#Unfortunately she's also Shar

[y-rhywbeth2]

There was cut content where Astarion could convert to Shar?

I came across a post ages ago somewhere with a datamined recorded line from Act 2 where Astarion gets Shadowheart-style huffy on behalf of his 'mistress,' Shar. I have no idea where I saw it (ages ago) or how far back that concept was cut, but it did stick in my memory as an unfortunate 'yeah, I can see how that might happen' moment.

[earlysunshines]

killshot

im nayeon x fem!reader ; smut!! 

synopsis: your roommate is aware that you hate her and she likes irritating you but oh no she just now realizes you’re hot and wants you so bad

warnings: kinda porn w no plot ; smut!!! ; mentions of alcohol ; hate fucking(???) ; degradation kinda ; insulting each other as they fuck yesss ; face riding ; comp sci major!reader *shivers and shakes* ; fwb-ish but not really ; nayeon is umm lowk manipulative but only if you squint , maybe? ; not proofread as always

wc: 5.1k

a/n: computer science major slander (i'm jealous) and also i don’t like the pacing but oh well maybe u guys will (i'd be such a great writer if i weren’t lazy af... )

with a groan, you lift yourself off the bed after hearing a loud thud. tiredly, you blindly reach for your phone and check for the time with squinted eyes: 1:04am. 

a low “fuck” leaves your lips while you struggle to sit up, still hearing the impact of bodies crashing against the walls and the faint sounds of a woman and man groaning through the bedroom door.  

nayeon is home. 

this is a bi-weekly occurrence; your roommate nayeon stumbles into the apartment all hot and heavy from the alcohol that was in her system, and then you can hear her getting all intimate—against your will—with some random person she’s found at the various clubs she cycles through. to be completely honest, you don’t care for her midnight rendezvous, just as long as they don’t bother you. 

however, this night she’s bothered you greatly; you’re fucking irritated. 

just when you had finally sought solace in the arms of sleep after hours of laboring over a project, your few minutes of rest are abruptly shattered by the intrusion of nayeon. —all drunk and insatiable—who’s barging into your room whilst some average guy latches onto her neck. he doesn’t look like he knows what he’s doing, but it doesn’t matter because nayeon’s senses are too fucked to really pay attention to that. 

“get the hell out of my room.” you yell angrily towards the two. to say you were annoyed would be an overwhelming understatement, you were furious. 

“ah—fuck, sorry y/n,” she responds, voice all airy and light whilst the man’s hand slides down to play with the edge of her dress. “wrong room baby, let’s go.” she says whilst pushing the man off her a bit, much to his dismay. 

they both leave the room, still attached to each other with their hands roaming and gripping at anything. to make matters even worse; they didn’t close the door behind them. 

“fucking whore.” you scoff, falling back down on your bed and groaning.  

- 

im nayeon is an indescribable pain in your ass and unfortunately, she also happens to be your roommate. 

for the most part, you generally pride yourself on your composure and tolerance, but living with nayeon has truly put your patience to the test. she's irresponsible and unreliable, which regularly pushes you to your limits. you find yourself frustrated sharing an apartment with someone who’s always falling hort of your expectations. she's falling far from them, really, and it’s almost impressive. 

she has a knack for disappearing into the lurking in the apartment while you're away, often entertaining friends and leaving behind a mess in her wake. the audacity she possesses to neglect simple chores like doing the dishes or tidying up after herself borders on infuriating, you’re fighting the urge to bodyslam her into the mattress sometimes. it's as though she expects the cleaning fairy to magically swoop in and restore order while you're left to pick up the pieces of her irresponsibility, maybe she thinks you’re the fucking cleaning fairy. 

living with her was hell, you don’t even know how she managed to keep up with her courses and stay sane with how she lived her life. she was a pretentious, sassy little thorn stuck in your skin. 

but still, there are two things that keep you tethered to the apartment, even if it's a bit embarrassing to admit on factor. one: the rent is cheaper, and your shared living space is nice. two: nayeon’s fucking hot. 

the truth is: nayeon is the epitome of physical allure, the hottest person you've ever laid eyes on. as much as you resent her for her shortcomings, you find yourself unable to ignore the pull of her undeniable visuals, which whispers against the urge to pack your bags and leave.  

you despised the stupid allure of her face, the way her figure teased and tempted, and the fact that she held the power to have you on your knees if she poked you in the right ways. it grated on your nerves to know that you weren't the only one drawn to her; half the campus seemed to be either enamored with her, aspiring to be her, or eager to get into her pants. and she wielded her beauty like a weapon, using her "pretty privilege" to her advantage.  

the feeling you had towards her was bitter, but the attraction you had made things complicated. 

it was easy to mask your little attraction for your pretentious roommate with annoyed comments and irritated glares, but deep inside you wanted her in ways that you could never admit out loud. countless daydreams and very questionable thoughts about her invaded your mind at the worst times possible, espeically when she was near. 

- 

- 

your irritation mixed with attraction was mutual. nayeon felt the same way about you; what a match. 

at first, nayeon found herself irritated by your stuck-up demeanor and seemingly perfect self. your involvement in various extracurricular activities, dedication to your studies, and honestly majoring in computer science major as a whole contributed to her initial impression of you as someone who had it all together. it was a stark contrast to her own carefree attitude and laid-back approach to everything, which built friction between the two of you. 

(nayeon could never do all of that, study for hours and keep her shit together. and god, especially watching you type for two hours straight already made her head swirl. how does someone do that without losing their shit? she wonders if you’re okay) 

from nayeon's perspective, you were nothing more than a stuck-up bitch in her shared home, always fussing over cleanliness like a relentless clean freak. it striked a nerve every time you scolded her for leaving behind a couple of dishes or a few stray bottles of alcohol. if it bothered you so much, why not just pick up after yourself instead of constantly complaining? 

despite the irritation you stirred within her, nayeon couldn't deny the undeniable truth: you were actually pretty cute for a nerdy, uptight roommate. in fact, she'd even go as far as to admit that you were pretty hot. 

nayeon has seen the people in the computer science department, most of them are men who look like they’ve never spoken to a woman or gone outside for more than thirty minutes a day. you on the other hand were quite the sight, someone nayeon would describe as “eye candy.” 

and yeah, she kind of overlooked the fact that you were her type after you had yelled at her so much, but then there was this one little moment that changed her mind. maybe she could tolerate you more. 

(maybe nayeon had to put looks first in this case.) 

-- 

-- 

some thursday afternoon, while you typically would be found either buried in books at the library or enjoying the afternoon at a café, nayeon found herself in a predicament—she couldn't find one of her favorite t-shirts. with frustration growing, she decided to take matters into her own hands and went into your room to see if it had somehow ended up there, given that you were supposed to be out.  

to her surprise, she discovered that you were most definitely home, a fact that caught her completely off guard—especially when you’re home in your room, in the middle of taking your pants off. 

she barges into your room to see you with your shirt off and the fly of your pants down, revealing some of the logo of your victoria’s secret underwear. your cheeks flush a dark hue of red when you realize she’s invaded your privacy, and you quickly cover your chest—which, is already covered since you have a bra on, but god is this whole situation embarrassing.  

after you literally push her out the door—slamming it shut with embarrassment—nayeon stands outside the door with a newfound interest.  

nayeon couldn't fathom that someone who dedicated their sanity to lines of numbers and letters on a screen could look so good. there was something mesmerizing about the subtle groove tracing down your stomach, hinting at the definition of your abs, or the glimpse of your bicep as you hastily covered yourself and scolded her for intruding, maybe even the hint of muscle on your shoulders. whatever it was—all nayeon knew was that the little mishap of you not locking the door and giving her the chance see you like that piqued her interest without doubt. 

and after seeing you half naked? the image of you, with your shirt off and the hint of your physique tantalizingly on display? holy shit you had her fantasizing a little (a lot) more than she already had been; she needed some of her fantasies to come true.  

your roommate had already been attentive to your quick—and evident—glances on her body and her lips. she also noted the subtle bite of your lips when she swayed by, your eyes barely caught her, but she noticed it all. getting her fantasies to become a reality seemed easy enough—probably—and she was determined to make it all happen.  

she knew she already had you starting to wrap around her finger, just by those observations, so it should be easy enough to get you hot and heavy, right? 

- 

“oh look who’s finally fucking awake.” you mutter, turning around to see the hungover, marked up woman emerging from the hall.  

nayeon rolls her eyes at you like always and simply responds, “oh shut up, don’t be a drag.” 

“i’m a drag? i’m not the one barging in at one in the morning the same night my roommate stays up to actually do their school shit. not only that, but that fucking guy—” 

“was a terrible kisser,” nayeon cuts you off, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i kicked him out so can you please just—” 

“no!” you scoff, surprising nayeon with this burst of anger. you’re much more irritated than usual, which is weird. nayeon suspects that it’s because she’s never accidentally stumbled into your room, and to be fair; this was kind of intentional.  

you see, nayeon thought that if she could make you a little jealous, it’d increase the chances of you intervening. just what she wanted. 

“i couldn’t fucking sleep and i have a really important assessment today.” 

“yeah yeah, move over i need some tea.” nayeon says tiredly. upon hearing her response, you clench your jaw tightly and lean against the marble counter, gripping it with one hand tightly to suppress your annoyance. 

your roommate looks at you and a laugh slips out accidentally. after hearing that, there's probably a vein visible on your forehead, maybe your neck—somewhere. 

that was your last straw. 

angrily, you lift yourself off the counter and swiftly advance towards nayeon, pinning her against the fridge with force. the impact reverberates through her as her back meets the cold surface, while you lean in closer, your eyes narrowing with intensity.  

now, this should not be turning nayeon on—she’s going to blame it on her hangover and whatnot, and maybe the fact that whoever that guy was and whatever he did didn’t really satitate her—but it does.  

with barely an inch of space separating you, your height advantage allows you to tilt your head down, locking eyes with nayeon with a glare. the tension crackles between you like a firework, it’s thick and palpable, your look shows restrained anger. despite how furious you look, there's an unexpected allure to you, drawing nayeon in even as she senses the little reprimanding you’ll give her. 

“don’t give me that fucking attitude nayeon. you’re fucking unbelievable, you’re a fucking slut, you know?” 

“yeah?” she says, a smirk tugging at her pretty, plump lips.  

you feel your body tense as soon as you start to take in the proximity of the two of you. gulping lightly, you move yourself away just an inch, but nayeon pauses you, pinching your collar. 

“oh don’t get so timid now, you were just fuming earlier pretty.” she laughs. “keep going. this is cute, i like this. what did you call me again?” 

as nayeon's eyes flicker from yours to your lips and back again, the tension between you is like pushing down on a spring, and it’s about to pop back up any moment. sensing an opportunity, nayeon skillfully navigates her way out of the looming scolding, her allure becoming a potent weapon against your mood. she begins to weave her charm, coaxing a reluctant softening in your expression. despite your initial anger, you find yourself drawn to her, you can’t let yourself slip up, not now, not when she’s the reason you might fail your assessment. 

“you’re— you’re so... fucking irritating…” you mumble the last part of your sentence, voice getting smaller. you push yourself away from her and shake your head, trying to conceal your blush. nayeon giggles before going back to making her tea, the tension in the air like an invisible weight pressing down on you, and this whole morning might just completely flatten you down from how distracting it’ll be the whole day. 

nayeon’s relieved, at least you’re not scolding her while she dips her chamomile bag in and out her little mug of hot water. 

- 

the day is filled with the events of the morning, with you struggling to finish various lines of code because the feeling of nayeon toying with your collar lingers, and nayeon trying to force the thought of you finally snapping in her head. 

seems like the two of you are trying to avoid the same thought, despite how badly you two want it. 

it's palpable that there’s something in the air that needs to be swatted away, and nayeon knows you’re too much of a coward to really do anything about it, so she’ll figure somethign out.  

one thing about im nayeon: she always gets her way, no questions asked, no matter what it takes. 

- 

nayeon finds you on the couch typing away later that night, probably doing some homework. 

nayeon plops down next to you, intending to tease and push you over the edge. you turn your head after feeling the cushions under you shift, immediately grimacing once you see your roommate. 

“what do you want?” 

“what, i can’t sit next to my roommate?” nayeon questions, “i’m just going to watch tv, if you don’t like it you can leave.”  

“whore.” you mutter under your breath, quiet enough so she doesn’t catch what you say.  

your roommate lounges lazily on the couch and rests her head against the armrest. as she reclined, her hair spilled over, framing her face like a halo. nayeon's gaze wandered lazily around the room before settling on the tv, and with a languid movement, she turned to lay fully, bending her legs so they didn't intrude into your personal space. 

your jaw tensed, a visceral reaction to the sight before you. the light from the tv in the dimmed room accentuated the allure of nayeon's figure. you couldn't help but steal a glance, your attention momentarily torn away from your screen by the annoyingly captivating vision in your periphery. 

casual sweatpants adorned her figure, the looseness of the bottoms from brandy allowing for comfort yet teasingly hinting at the eye-catching curves of her terribly alluring figure beneath. the fit of her tank top—cropped just enough to expose a sliver of her toned midriff—effortlessly made your gaze linger. the fabric clung to her silhouette in all the right places, revealing the subtle contours that sent a subtle jolt through the room and your veins. you completely forgot about pretending to be irritated in that brief trance. 

the tank top, snug against her skin, revealed a gentle dip of her collarbone, an enticing invitation that you took note of. the image staying in your head even as your attention returned to your screen. a flush settled on your cheeks as you tried to focus again. the ambiance of the room, however, remained penetrated with the downplayed sensuality that lingered in the air. you huff lowly. she's winning whatever game this is without even trying. 

after typing at your laptop for a bit, you hear the faint sound of people talking in the background. you look up from the screen and see some show playing, then turn to see nayeon’s head turned toward the tv.  

shaking your head, you redirect your attention back to the assignment in front of you; the task is quite easy, but it’s insanely tedious and for some strange reason nayeon’s presence isn’t helping you. 

nayeon shifts on the couch and sits upright against the cushion, you don’t bat an eye. your roommate is sick of you being academic, she’s bored and wants your attention. needs it, maybe. 

“when’s that due?”  

without turning your head, you respond, “next week.” 

“why do it now?” 

“why do you care?” your tone is impatient. “and besides, it’s better to get things done earlier.” 

“nerd.” nayeon sighs. she scoots over and peers at your screen, putting her hand down beside you to prop herself up and when she leans over, her boob smushes against your arm a little.  

you glare at her. “aren’t you usually out? it’s a friday night.” 

she shrugs. “didn’t feel like it.” and after she scans the screen one more time, she leans away (to your dismay) and continues on with whatever drama she had been watching.  

the thought of her boob being smushed against you lingers, embarassingly it’s almost tattooed in your mind for the next half an hour. 

when you finish your assignment, that’s when you let out a big, hefty breath and close your laptop.  

nayeon's annoyingly melodic giggle dances in the air as you sink into the plush couch, surrendering to its embrace that eases the pain in your shoulders. after savoring your few seconds of tranquility, your thoughts drift to the comfort awaiting you in your bedroom, your bed, peace and quiet, being enveloped by the blanket.  

as you start to stand up, a delicate yet firm grip clings to your forearm, delaying your departure. nayeon's touch, like a sirens call, invites you to linger, gently coaxing you to stay a little longer. 

she bats her eyelashes at you. “stay here.”  

you brows knit. “why would i stay with you?”  

“watching shows alone is boring, and i know your ass isn’t going anywhere tonight.” 

you groan in response and decide to give in—you might as well lounge on the couch for a bit—earning a smug smile from your roommate. she unpauses her show and you allow yourself to ease into the cushion, then watch with her (against your will), only to immediately tense up at the scene that unravels before your eyes. 

two girls appear on screen, and they’re kissing each other.  

they’re close, kissing, and then fifteen seconds pass and boom—they’re eating each other’s mouths sloppily, groaning and everything, tongue and all. you shift in your seat when you feel a weird pulse down at your core. 

“y/n,” nayeon starts, “have you ever even kissed someone?” 

“of course i have.” you respond, crossing your arms.  

nayeon turns her head in surprise and tilts her head. “seriously?” 

“yes, is it that surprising?” 

“well, you’re always cooped up in the house and whatnot… didn’t think you had any game.” 

“i hooked up with someone last month for your information. i'm not a homebody.” 

“yeah? sure, you did.” she laughs, shaking her head. you roll your eyes at her. 

“fuck you.” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the tv and watching the two girls undress each other. “do you always watch shit like this?” 

“why, does it turn you on or something?” nayeon asks, shifting closer to you. a lump forms in your throat. 

you shoot a quick glare at her and lie, “no.” 

nayeon laughs in amusement after pink dusts your cheeks. “you seem pretty flustered baby.” 

what the fuck? 

as you meet her gaze, a wave of surprise washes over you, mirroring the hunger that burns in her eyes. nayeon's laughter tumbles from her lips, enchanting and playful, as she places her hand delicately on the couch. leaning towards you, she ignites a spark that makes your heart skip a beat. feeling a sudden urge to be closer, you subtly shift in your seat, captivated by the exhilarating simplicity of the moment and giving into nayeon’s intentions. 

“i don’t believe you.” she says. 

“what?” 

“you’ve never kissed someone, hell, like you could even fuck someone.” 

“excuse me?” 

she just laughs at the mix of emotions coming from you; your cheeks are dusted pink, but your tone and expression displays that regular irritated look of yours. 

then she bites the corner of her lip, finally easing into the reason she even bothered you in the first place. she leans a little closer, lips hovering near your ear lobe, and giggles again. 

“how about you prove that you’ve fucked someone, hm?” nayeon suggests, raising her brows. “that you even can.” 

your breath trembles slightly, you’re stiff in your place. 

“if it’ll shut you up then... fine.” 

she clicks her tongue, then pulls away from your ear. now she’s looking at you with a shit eating grin, you want to wipe it off her face. 

the air stilled, your breath shook, and nayeon’s hand inches to your forearm. her other hand grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you in and your lips meet in the middle. 

she tastes like cherry, well, her lip gloss does. 

your hand finds its way to the back of her neck, pushing her deeper into you so your lips can hungrily slide and suck and gosh, everything, all of the above, both a and c, you name it. 

the last thing you had on your mind for the friday night was kissing your roommate aggressively. initially, you were just going to finish the assignment and take a nap or something, but this? it’s much better than what you had planned originally. 

nayeon practically takes your breath away after simply kissing you, just the way your lips lock makes you greedy. you groan accidentally, embarassed until you have nayeon groaning into you too, even louder for that matter. 

you pull away for a brief moment, voice a little shaky and out of breath. “is this why you bothered me? are you that horny that you wanted me to fuck you?” 

“oh shut up, it’s not like you’re against it.” nayeon’s right, you’re not. not in the slightest. 

“fuck you” is uttered from your lips before you crash your lips against her again, taking the air from her lungs again. 

the kissing quickly escalates and your tongues are in each other’s mouths. you’re both unashamedly moaning and groaning into each other carelessly, it’s funny how quickly everything escalated within seconds, the boundaries between whatever you two had dissolved like sugar in boiling water. you shift yourselves over so that nayeon is under you, both your knees on either side of her legs. you reach over for the remote to pause the two girls who were mirroring the two of you—well, the two of you started going at it after they did so maybe it was the two of you mirroring them. 

each subsequent kiss felt as electrifying as the crackle of sparks dancing in a bonfire. the more nayeon deepened the kiss the more it drove you crazy, irrationally enough to continue kissing her and slip your hands under her shirt. 

nayeon sighs blissfully as you kiss down her neck, her fingers tangle with your hair while she claws at it aggressively, and still, the pain from her grabbing your hair only turns you on more. 

“fuck,” she groans when you suck on her neck, sinking her nails into your tricep. 

“slut.” you mutter, smirking against her. “so easy to rile up.” 

unashamedly, nayeon begs and begs for you until you’re biting down on her skin, repeatedly uttering your name until you’re leaving marks that’ll have her friends wondering who ruined her this time—and this time, it’s not some person she’s run into at the bar while tipsy. 

still, she could get drunk just off of you. 

you start to undress her, starting with her top and taking a moment to gaze at her undeniably alluring figure. strands of hair just barely stick to her forehead as she gazes at you breathlessly with eyes full of lust. she moves her slender fingers to work at the edge of your shirt, urging you to take that stupid t-shirt you have on off so she can get a sight of your surprisingly exciting figure. maybe she’ll get a better, longer view of what she had seen that night she walked in on you changing. 

“fuck, why have you been hiding this?” she mutters, sliding her hand down your side. “god you fucking bitch.” 

“if i didn’t you’d be all over me, you fucking horny mess.” you spit back harshly, but the way you moan when nayeon latches her lips onto your neck completely rids of that fake, irritated tone of yours.  

nayeon ends up on top of you in a matter of seconds, thenyou’re groping her ass shamelessly as you two devour each other’s mouths again. hands tug at whatever else covers your bodies until it’s just the two of you skin to skin. everything that had just happened in the span of ten minutes was for sure ten times better than whatever else had been going on in the movie. 

you can feel her grinding desperately against your thigh as you kiss her, feeling the moisture from her needy cunt that dampens your once-dry upper leg. you palm her breasts blindly and feel her gasp against you, and then nayeon forgets how to breath when you press your thigh up and against her, adding more stimulus. 

she moans frustratedly, the feeling of just your thigh against her throbbing pussy is far from what she needs. so, she’s putting her hand on the middle of your chest and pushing you down to lay flat on your back. she bites her lip blatantly before lifting her hips away from your skin. 

you furrow your brows in confusion and begin, “what are you—” 

“shut up,” she grunts, shoving one hand in your head and gripping your hair so rough that you whimper. she shifts over so that her pussy is directly above your mouth and orders: “just eat, bitch.” 

this is something you can’t argue with her about, and fuck you’re hungry.  

there’s a meal waiting for you that you’ve been craving, you can’t just lay there and starve. 

eagerly, you lift your head up a bit to meet the aching in between her legs; she’s so wet and you’re definitely teasing her about this later—but who knows how long it will take until it’s later. 

she moans louder than ever and it surprises the both of you, it only leaves you wanting more of her, wanting to hear her when she’s at her limit. your nails sink into the flesh of her thigh as you devour ravenously, taking note of what makes her twitch more and what earns lewder noises. what earns noises that turn you on more than ever. 

it doesn’t surprise you how shameless she is during sex—clearly, she isn’t ashamed of seducing her roommate—the way she rides your face so desperately gives you enough to know how she is. 

nayeon likes when you suck on her clit, she grips your hair tighter with each “pop” sound that’s made after you release the suction. she’s easy to read, her cunt is easy to adjust to. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” nayeon moans, leaning back little while she continues to ride, head tilted back and face almost parallel to the ceiling. “god-- fuck, oh my—shit, keep going,” 

you can see her tits from your view, nipples all perked up while you grip onto her thighs tighter, feeling her shake in your grasp.  

nayeon's like an alarm clock, ticking and ticking away until the alarm rings, her cry echoing through the room, hand gripping at your hair tighter than ever as her head falls back. you continue to savor her arousal even after she came, earning little whines and whispers of your name. 

“oh, y/n, just like that...”  

you're doing all the work now, which only helps with your aversion towards her, but still, you’ve made her moan, cry—all of the above, so at least there’s something to use against her. 

and then she lifts herself off of you, letting your head rest back against the seat of the couch so you can catch your breath.  

when she looks down, all she can make out through fuzzy vision and overwhelmed senses is the puff of your lips, hooded eyes, and fucked up hair; everything about the sight of you is a product of her desires, a fantasy that’s been lingering in her mind now come true. 

“slut,” you mutter, almost breathlessly. “you’re really loud, you know.”  

“fuck you.” 

“already did.” you retort, giggling. “let’s go for another.” 

“oh so now look who’s a horny mess.” nayeon responds, moving over to sit on your lap. 

you sit up, holding yourself up with your hands placed behind you. “you just never shut up, do you?” 

nayeon smiles before tracing her finger along your skin. “do you me want to?” 

you look at her amusingly before shifting positions so she’s laying down flat on her back, with you hovering above. the two of you kiss again, nayeon savoring a the traces of arousal off you, a muffled hum of delight vibrating against your locked lips. 

she pulls away, thumbing your nipple and making you groan surprisingly. you pull away to glare at her. 

nayeon laughs, “wow, you’re so--” 

you cut her off by shoving your ring and middle finger in her mouth, she almost gags, but the way she sucks obediently is enough to tell you that she’s enjoying this. 

“you just never shut up,”  

in response, she moans with your fingers still in your mouth, right before you pull them out, skin coated with her saliva. 

you bring your fingers down to her cunt, teasing her folds. 

“let’s change that.” 

[nyrandrea]

Everything's Fine

As you try to deal with everything that has been thrown at you so early into your journey: forced leadership, mindflayer tadpoles and taking on everybody's personal problems, it all just gets a bit too much for you.

(Takes place during Act 1)

Word Count - 3.5k

Also available to read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

xxx

You felt your patience starting to wear incredibly thin when you realised Astarion had been staring at you for over five minutes now. 

Not directly, he would never be so conspicuous—at least, not intentionally— but you kept catching those fleeting glances he was throwing your way; the corners of his red eyes crinkling every so often before returning to whatever book he was pretending to read. It wasn’t one of those charming, smouldering gazes he would sometimes give you after a night of feeding, asking if you were alright, knowing full-well that your answer was a resounding ‘I’m fine’, and that you would provide for him again soon. 

No, what he was doing right now—very carefully—was scanning you, studying you,  judging you. It was as if he was trying to leer right through to your very soul. 

You almost had half a mind to stomp over to his tent and demand what his problem was, but there were other unfortunate issues to contend with. 

Namely Shadowheart and Lae'zel. 

“I already told you that the artefact is my responsibility,” Shadowheart said, her aloof demeanour and confident tone betrayed by the hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. “This way it will protect us all, I thought we had already established that!” 

“We have established nothing,” Lae’zel hissed back. “We only agreed not to slit each other’s throats in the night, though...,” she grimaced. “I still have no reason to trust that you will not try again.” 

“At least there’s still some sense in that bullish head of yours.” 

“Tsk!” Lae’zel spat at Shadowheart’s feet, much to the latter’s disgust as she recoiled back. “However, the matter still stands that the relic you hold onto belongs to my people. Therefore, it should be in my possession!” 

The cleric sneered. “I would sooner slit my own throat.” 

“Then go right ahead. Nobody will stop you.” 

Rubbing at your temples to try and ease the incoming migraine that, for once, was not caused by the mindflayer parasite living rent-free in your head, you decided to step in-between the two women, not really caring about risking a gutting from their trigger-happy blades. 

“C’mon, we’re not seriously having this fight again?” You huff incredulously, the question already sounding stupid as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course they were having this fight again. They had it yesterday, and the day before that, and they were probably going to have it tomorrow as well. 

“We are, as it happens,” Shadowheart replied, her eyes flickering briefly to you before narrowing forward again. “Because this savage bitch won’t leave me alone!” 

Lae’zel bared her teeth in a cruel grin. “Better to be that than a revrykal of Shar.” 

At the mention of her Goddess’s name, Shadowheart practically lunged herself towards Lae’zel with an enraged scream, her dagger raised high with the intention of plunging it straight into the githyanki’s chest, who in turn raised her shield to protect herself. In that moment, you were nothing to them but a speck of dust in the wind. 

It wasn’t until your hand shot up in a blind panic when Shadowheart realised what she was doing, forcing her to suddenly pull back to avoid injuring you, only a moment too late as her knife slashed the palm of your hand. Blood sprayed across the ground as your short but pained cry echoed throughout the camp. 

“Oh Gods...” Shadowheart muttered as everyone was suddenly on their feet and crowded around the three of you in a matter of moments. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t... mean to...!” 

“What? Attempt to kill our leader in cold blood?” Lae’zel muttered as she took your trembling hand to examine it, you only stared ahead as the shock took a moment to wear off. You didn’t even register her uncharacteristically gentle touch as she turned your palm up. “Only a flesh wound, you will live.” 

“Still,” Astarion piped up from behind. “Perhaps it would be best to get that dressed up lest you attract any...*ahem* unsavoury visitors.” 

“It would seem we already have,” Lae’zel replied, to which the vampire put a hand up to his chest in mock offence. 

“Lae’zel, you depreciate me,” he pouted. “I’m hurt.” 

Astarion’s sudden cold grasp on your wrist startled you as he decided to examine the cut himself in a much less gentle manner than Lae’zel. “Not that I would be able to get much from this anyway, even if I tried.” 

You were slightly worried that he was pondering the idea the longer he stared at the wound; you could practically see him drooling. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he snapped out of his daze. 

“Well, we should probably get this cleaned up anyhow,” he finally said. “To avoid infection and whatnot.” 

“...You’re not gonna lick it clean, are you?” Karlach asked with a grimace. 

“Of course not!” Astarion bit back, much more flustered this time. “I’m not some savage beast, you know.” 

“That’s... debatable,” Gale piped in. 

“Well! It’s lovely to know that you all think so little of me; the feeling is very much mutual,” Astarion said with a fake smile before taking you by the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll have to nurse this poor wounded soul, as well as my pride.” 

He started guiding you away from the rest of the group, you only allowed him to because the whole situation had you in a bit of a daze, but not before Shadowheart tried to get in another “I’m... I’m sorry.” 

“It’s... I’m fine,” you replied with whatever level of composure you could muster up with a smile in a small attempt to reassure her before allowing yourself to be led towards Astarion’s tent. Your words seemed to satisfy her as Shadowheart returned a sorrowful but grateful nod, though her expression turned sour when Karlach stepped between her and Lae’zel. 

“Alright now, ladies, what do you two say we let out our pent-up aggression towards each other in a healthier and less murder-y way, huh?” The tiefling suggested before holding up her finger to not let the other two get a word in edgewise. “And before you ask, I will not be taking no for an answer.” 

A small smile graced your lips at Karlach’s enthusiastic yet surprisingly pragmatic way of taking charge, and it seemed to be working as Shadowheart and—to your utter astonishment—Lae’zel agreed to whatever training regimen she had in store for them.  

‘Perhaps Karlach should take over as leader...’  

The idea was extinguished as soon as it had entered your mind, replaced with thoughts of the tiefling messing everything up, of her killing you in your sleep, that you shouldn’t trust her to lead your party. The only one who should have any authority over these subordinates is you. Only you are worthy. 

The voice quieted down after a few moments, leaving you only with a pounding head—just another one of the many wonderful side-effects of the parasite. 

You didn’t take any heed of whatever thoughts the tadpole forced upon you. You knew that Karlach would never hurt you, or any of the others for that matter—not by choice, anyway. However, those flashes of betrayal and blood were starting to wear you down a bit, especially with the lack of sleep; the very notion of it had been non-existent since you escaped the nautiloid and accepted the leadership that everyone had practically forced upon you. 

You weren’t exactly a natural-born leader; hell, you barely managed to keep yourself alive never mind a whole group of people. 

“That’s going to need stitches,” Astarion said as he observed your hand more closely now that the two of you were in the privacy of his tent. Heat flushed around your cheeks at how close the two of you were. Flashes of that night you had shared a bed—or well, the forest floor—came to mind, and you hated how flustered it made you. It was a one-night stand, a bit of fun to ease the stress of adventuring; clearly it meant nothing. At least... that was what you were made to feel. 

What had been a night of passion for you, had been the same old dance for him. 

“Take a seat there,” Astarion’s said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a knife. “I should have a needle around here, somewhere.” 

“You know how to sew?” You asked, settling down on a cushioned stool. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, and a sting of guilt surged in your chest. “How do you think I’ve kept these clothes looking so good for over two hundred years? Certainly not by magic.” 

“Why not just buy new clothes?” 

Your prodding seemed to hit a nerve as he paused for a moment. 

“Why waste the coin?” He finally replied, sounding a little dejected. 

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip as you tried to think of a way to quickly rectify your carelessness. “You do look great, by the way—y-your clothes, I mean,” embarrassment takes over as you trip over your own words. “The gold embroidery is um *cough * it’s nice.” 

Astarion seems amused at your inability to grasp basic English as he chuckles, the sound deep and almost musical. “Why thank you, darling. I’m glad someone around here appreciates the finer details.” 

The vampire kneels next to you and threads the needle before gesturing for you to hold out your hand. “It has been a while so... let’s just hope I’m not too rusty, hm?” 

Those words don’t instil a great deal of confidence within you, but you won’t allow it to show, trusting in him to get the job done. If you ended up getting sepsis, well... Withers was always on stand-by. 

“Now, hold still,” Astarion instructed. “This may sting a little.” 

You nodded, only wincing a little when he made the first stitch, the pain became more bearable as you watched him focus with the kind of laser-like precision that only came with a practiced hand; it made you wonder how many times he had done this. His methodical movements almost lulled you into a sort of relaxed trance, had your mind have not been working overtime, you honestly might have fallen asleep: Gods know you could have done with a bit of shut eye. 

Ever since the ship crashed, your problems just seemed to keep piling on top of each other: Lae’zel was hellbent on getting to that githyanki creche, and there was the matter of Karlach’s engine, Gale was close to blowing to kingdom-come if he didn’t get another magical item to consume soon, Astarion would probably need another feeding at some point, not to mention the dog, Scratch, and the owlbear cub who had started hanging around the camp. A dog was one thing but how much did owlbears need to eat?  

It was fine, you reassured yourself. Everything would be fine. 

“There we go,” Astarion said, relinquishing your hand back, freshly stitched and cleaned. The pain was still there, dull and throbbing, but it wasn’t anything a quick healing spell couldn’t fix. 

“Not my best work but it will just have to do for now,” he huffs, as if he was annoyed with himself. “You’ll have to excuse the sloppy stitching, it’s... been a while.” 

“It’s beautiful work,” you can’t help but admire the stitching; it was flawless. “Thank you, Astarion.” 

His gaze remains on you for a moment, as if he were expecting some sort of quip or punchline, and his eyes widen slightly when he realises you’re being genuine. 

“I... uh... you...?” He pauses and squints; still nothing. “You are... most certainly welcome.” 

You raise an eyebrow; did he really think so lowly of you that he believed you simply weren’t capable of a simple 'thank you'? Or was it himself that he had no confidence in? Your thoughts turn to when you asked him about how he came about becoming a vampire. Astarion kept most of his history closed off from you but told you just enough to let you know that this ‘Cazador’ fellow had treated him poorly. Belittled him. Enslaved him. 

You couldn’t begin to imagine how horrible it must have been; no wonder he didn’t trust anyone. 

A part of you wanted to pry into his thoughts, to let him know that you were here for him should he ever want to talk, but a new figure entered the tent, startling you into closing your mouth. 

“Hello!” Gale cheerily greeted with a smile, his eyes latching onto you immediately. “How are we feeling?” 

“Oh, we’re feeling quite dandy, thank you,” Astarion interjected with a frown. “You didn’t think to knock before deciding just to barge in?” 

“Well, given the materialistic structure of this very sound establishment, I think you’ll find it’s a little difficult to uh...” Gale trailed off, attempting to rap the tent flap to no avail. “...knock on.” 

“Then why not just knock on the wooden beams with that...” The vampire waved lazily towards Gale’s staff. “Very large stick of yours.” 

“Duly noted, but I think we’re getting a bit off track here,” the wizard said before turning to you. “I need a word.” 

You were taken aback slightly by his bluntness, and you couldn’t help but notice the almost pained way he was wringing his hands and how his eyebrows subtly twitched. He looked incredibly... uncomfortable. 

His hand hovered over his chest briefly, just above the mark that glowed whenever he consumed magic. 

Shit. Was it that time already? But hadn’t you given him something only yesterday? Or had it been a few days now? With recent events, it was hard to keep track of the time anymore; day and night just meshed into one big messy blur. 

Judging by your panicked look, Gale held up his hands in a placating manner. “Now, I know you’ve had a lot on your plate recently but this little uh... situation of mine is growing quite dire again so... if you could just relinquish whatever magical artefact you have, then all will be fine and dandy.” 

“I... don’t have anything on me at the moment.” 

Gale’s expression dropped. “Come now, you must have picked up something along the way, surely?” 

You grimaced. 

“In a dungeon? Along the road? What about that little goblin camp you rampaged through recently?” 

His sudden passive-aggressiveness made you feel uneasy. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Astarion cut in, folding his arms. “But we were a bit preoccupied with fighting for our lives to be on the lookout for any magic boots for you to chew on.” 

Gale chuckled dryly and drew the vampire a dirty look. “I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of what might very well happen if I don’t find something to contain the beast within me very soon- “ 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darling.” 

“This isn’t a joking matter!” 

“Ugh! Just shut up!” You snapped. “I do get it, Gale. Because you remind me Every. Damn. Day. About this big, scary, mystery catastrophe that might happen without actually explaining anything about it! A bit of context would go a long way!” 

Gale’s hurt wince suddenly had your stomach churning in guilt; you shouldn’t be snapping at people; you were better than that. 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised. “As soon as we’re out on the road again, I’ll make it our priority to look for an artefact for you, alright? You have my word.” 

Astarion scowled and Gale forced a smile; his lips too strained for it to be genuine. It seemed like you couldn’t please anyone today. 

“That’s all I can ask for, and I promise... all will be revealed soon, otherwise the tadpoles will be the least of our worries.” 

When Gale left, you plopped down to the ground and took ragged breaths to calm your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt as you nestled your injured hand in your lap. Had Gale only checked in on you so he could ask you for a magic item in return? Was he really that desperate? He must have been, seeing as you had completely forgotten about his predicament. 

What kind of leader were you? 

“You know, you can’t go making promises all willy-nilly like that,” Astarion said. “We have enough problems as it is without having to worry about...” 

His chastising faded into white noise as you grasped your head, the sting of your fingers curling and tugging through unkempt hair was just enough to distract from the pounding that came from within your brain. The ability to focus was suddenly lost to you as your heart raced, and dark emotions swirled within your chest like a wild tornado; it was tempting to let them sweep you away, to ride the waves into the unknown. To be anywhere but here without anyone depending on you for so, so much.  

“Hello?” Astarion drawled. “Are you even listening to- Darling...?” 

He moved closer to you; his steps measured and deliberate as he lowered himself down next to you, still allowing you enough space while being close enough to reach out a hand to your trembling shoulder, his touch cold yet oddly comforting. 

“Hey,” he spoke in a soothing, soft tone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with unwavering support. “I’m right here with you, you’re safe, just breathe along with me, alright?” 

You nodded, albeit shakily, and tried to mirror his calm, measured breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, attempting to regain control over your racing heart. 

Astarion’s voice never wavered as your frantic gasps slowly started to synchronise with his calm breathing. “I know things are tough right now, but these feelings will soon pass. You’re stronger than you think, darling.” 

He continued to gently rub your back, tracing comforting circles with his fingertips, a rhythm that matched the cadence of your breath. Your hands slowly unlatched from your hair as you felt Astarion’s reassuring presence and honeyed words grounding you. 

“There we go, you’re regaining control,” he encouraged softly. “Now, I’m going to get you a glass of water, will you be alright for a moment?” 

You nodded again, and with a quick squeeze of your shoulder, he left. As your panic attack started to ebb, your breathing evened and your heart slowed as you felt yourself returning to the present moment, the tension that had your body rigid starting to ease. 

Astarion was back by your side within moments, gently pushing a glass into your hand and helping you lift it to your lips for a small sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. 

“How do you feel?” 

“I’m-” 

“And don’t you dare say ‘I’m fine’,” he scowled. "Because we both know you’re clearly not.” 

You racked your brain to try and find a way to explain that you were okay and that this was just a small moment of weakness, a blip in the road, that there was nothing to worry about and you had it all figured out. 

But the words never came, instead you draw your knees up and hug them close to your chest as if to hide away from his piercing gaze. 

Astarion lingers by your side for a moment, his expression unreadable. 

“Would you like to stay in here for a while?” 

Unable to find the energy to speak, you simply nod. 

“Then come on, scooch over.” 

As you shuffle slightly to the side, Astarion sits down next to you, draping an arm over your shoulder and allowing you to settle your head into his side and cling to his shirt in a way that a child might cling to their mother. 

“...I’m sorry." 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Astarion’s expression soften as he waved a nonchalant hand. “Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, dear. If anything, I should be the one apologising, who knew being in my mere presence would be so breathtaking?” 

You managed a small chuckle at that. 

“But in all seriousness,” he continued. “I know a thing or two about putting on a façade and... well...,” he paused. “Just... know that if you ever want to talk, I’m all pointy ears.” 

You hum in acknowledgement, though you can tell by his undertone that he’s being disingenuous, kindness wasn’t exactly his forte after all, but you appreciated the attempt all the same. But you were just content to sit in his arms for a while, and he seemed pleased enough with the silence. So, for now, you inhale the comforting aroma of bergamot, rosemary and brandy, letting yourself get lost in his comforting presence. 

And exhale. 

xxx

Hellooooo Baldur's Gate 3 has me in a chokehold and the brainrot is real. I'm only in Act 1 hence why this fic takes place so early in the game but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. Apologies for any inconsistencies :'3 Let me know what y'all think!

*Edit - since this has been pretty well received, I've opened up requests! Pop me an ask if you would like one :)

[nerdallwritey]

Cheeks All Flushed (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Unfortunately this chapter was longer than tumblr wanted, so I've split it into two posts. The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading. OR It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (This particular part is 18.5k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 3 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read the first two parts!! It means so much to me that you guys are enjoying my writing and silliness. This chapter is much more slice-of-life than the last two parts, in that it's mostly fun at the Tiefling party with less smut. It's also the longest part so far! Apologies to those of you here for vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder of where Part 2 ended, you and Astarion just entered camp after dallying, even though Shadowheart told you not to. Rest in peace, you will be missed.

Taglist: @a66-1, @khaleesiofthewolves, @khywren, @lollipopsandlandmines,

@minestrones, @mizuki-nautilus

It was Wyll who spotted you first. He’d been wandering close to the treeline, gathering extra kindling for the fire, but something told you he’d also been keeping an eye out for you.

“You two are in heaps of trouble,” he muttered, ushering you behind Karlach’s currently vacant tent. “You’re lucky it was me who saw you first.”

“How is she?” you whispered, looking around to see if you could spot Shadowheart.

“I think seeing you might calm her down,” Wyll said, “but be prepared for an earful.”

“Oh please,” Astarion scoffed. “I’ve dealt with worse than an affronted cleric of Shar-'' He stepped out from behind Karlach’s tent and was met face to face with the cleric in question.  

“What was that?” Shadowheart’s hands were on her hips.

Astarion retreated, shielding half of his body behind you. “Hello, Shadowheart,” he waved his fingers delicately and smiled awkwardly. 

You leaned over to Wyll. “Save yourself,” you muttered. “We’ll be fine.”

Wyll gave you a sympathetic look and nodded. “Coming, Karlach!” he called, to which Karlach responded, “What?”

Shadowheart stood before you, looking frustrated and tapping her foot. You adjusted the pile of blankets in your arms. 

“Got the blankets,” you said sheepishly. Astarion raised his pile up a little higher in agreement.

“What was the one thing I said?” Shadowheart ignored the blankets.

You sighed. “‘Don’t dally.’”

“Mhm. And what did you do?”

“We-”

“Astarion?” Shadowheart turned to the vampire. 

He let out a reluctant whining sound. “We dallied.”

Shadowheart looked pleased by his admission. “Whose idea was it?”

You and Astarion shared a look. 

“Don’t tell me, I already know it was Astarion’s,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

Astarion scoffed. “You don’t know that!”

Shadowheart raised a doubtful eyebrow and looked at you. You avoided her gaze. She looked back at Astarion. “Yes I do.” 

“Darling,” Astarion hissed at you.

“I didn’t say anything!” you hissed back.

Suddenly Shadowheart grabbed Astarion’s left ear and your right ear and pulled you both out from behind Karlach’s tent. You and Astarion protested as you went.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Ah! Watch the hair, you heathen!”

Shadowheart flung her arms forward, releasing both of you and sending you stumbling forward towards the roaring fire. You caught yourselves before crashing into the flames. 

“You could have KILLED us just now!” Astarion exclaimed.

Shadowheart ignored him. “Look who’s finally back,” she addressed the rest of camp. 

Lae’zel scoffed, pausing the loud sharpening of her greatsword. “I must give you credit, Astarion, you last longer than I would have thought.”

Astarion straightened. “Thank you, I- hey.”

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to her blade. 

“Sorry, everyone,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “We lost track of time, that’s all.” You adjusted the blankets still in your arms.

“We have nothing to apologize for,” Astarion said, moving close to you and going to kiss your cheek, but thinking better of it when he saw steam pouring from Shadowheart’s ears. “Sorry,” he said to her softly. 

Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head disapprovingly. She clapped her hands together before she spoke. “Okay,” she said and turned to face you, “go wash those blankets and hang them to dry.” You nodded and she turned to Astarion. “Once you help carry those blankets to the lake, you are to help Lae’zel hunt for tonight’s dinner.”

Astarion made to argue. “But-”

“‘But’ nothing. I want the two of you as far away from each other as possible until everything is prepared for tonight’s festivities.”

“Here, here,” Gale agreed from over by the cookware. 

“Oof, tough break,” Karlach smirked. 

Astarion sniffed. “Just because some of us aren’t getting laid, doesn’t mean all of us should suffer the same fate.”

You hid your face in the laundry you were holding and groaned loudly. 

“Watch it, Fangs,” Karlach warned.

Shadowheart took you by the shoulders and turned you towards the lakeshore. “Go,” she said, a bit of a bite to the word. 

“Yes ma’am,” you sighed and started making your way to the waters gently lapping the sand by Withers. 

“You too, Astarion,” you heard Shadowheart behind you. 

“I’m going,” Astarion spat. His footsteps caught up with yours. 

You dropped the blankets by the waterline and grabbed the bucket and soap that you kept nearby for laundry duty, one of your commonly assigned chores. Astarion’s pile of blankets joined your own, then his arms came around your waist from behind, and his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“Sorry, love,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. 

“At least we’re not dead,” you leaned into his caress. 

“You are so incredibly out in the open it’s unbelievable,” Shadowheart called from a few yards away. 

“GIVE US A MOMENT,” Astarion snapped back in her direction. He turned to look at you, his frustration turning into fondness. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the crown of your head just as Lae’zel began to complain. 

“Let’s go, vampire. Before someone else steals what is rightfully ours.”

“I’m not anyone’s!” you complained to the sky above you.

“Is it truly so hard to believe that she actually likes me?” Astarion asked as he made his way to his tent to prepare for the hunt.

“You are handsome but weak,” Lae’zel informed. “Far from the optimal pleasure partner.”

“I could make you eat those words,” Astarion teased.

“You would not last a single minute with me,” Lae’zel said and then returned to her own tent to prepare. 

You sighed, embarrassed but not surprised by the camp’s reaction to your delayed arrival with Astarion. There was no talking your way out of it, especially with Astarion’s line about getting laid. The bastard. He could be so annoying sometimes.

At least you didn’t have to dance around it. Even though less than twenty-four hours ago you would have insisted that there was nothing going on between you and the Astarion, now you smiled to yourself, happy that that was no longer the case. 

“Thou hast now a bosom companion-”

“MISTRESS OF REVEL,” you yelped, clutching a hand to your chest to slow the pounding of your heart. You exhaled and turned to see Withers looking more or less unbothered. “You scared me, Withers.”

“Take care that thou are not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.” 

You stared at him. “Gods, you sleep with a guy ONE time.”

Withers stared back.

“Okay, two times.”

The stare continued.

“Okay, so he made me cum, like, five times total, is that what you want to hear?”

Withers said nothing. 

You groaned and picked up a blanket, hiking your pants up your legs. “Whatever, stop looking at me.” You waded out into the water, blanket in one hand, soap and bucket in the other. 

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

“All becomes dust and bone,” you mocked quietly. “You’re a pretty morbid guy, you know that?”

You looked over at him and swore you could see a small smile before his expression faded into one of cool indifference as usual. 

~~~~~

It had taken nearly all afternoon to finish washing and hanging all the blankets to dry on  the makeshift clothesline you’d erected lining the water’s edge, but you’d done it. Shadowheart had been kind enough to cast Lesser Restoration on you to combat the fatigue of blood loss and to help fade the marks still leftover on your neck. As a result, all you’d suffered from washing was some mild back pain from constantly bending to dunk and soap the blankets and standing back up to hang them. Laundry out here wasn’t the easiest task, especially without the proper tools you’d usually find in the city, but you enjoyed the peace that came from the still waters of the lake. Today, you’d been extra thorough in your work and you were pretty sure the blankets were cleaner now than they had been when Astarion had nicked them from your companions in the first place. 

Speaking of your companions, Shadowheart was doing her best to keep Astarion away from you for as long as possible. When he’d come back from hunting with Lae’zel, she’d made him help Gale prepare the meat.

“Even though I can’t partake in the meal,” he’d protested, “I have to help prepare it? Really?”

“Ah, relax,” Gale smacked him a little too hard on the back, “you can drain it dry first. Much easier if you go to town on the creature rather than letting me exsanguinate it myself with a blade.”

“I’m not some personal predator,” Astarion crossed his arms. A beat. “But fine, I suppose I can help this one time.”

After he’d drained tonight’s meal, a large wild boar, Shadowheart had sent him and Wyll to scavenge for more wine at the Blighted Village. He’d complained about the long trek and the poor quality of the wine they’d probably find, but Wyll had been able to drag him off after a bit of flattery and the batting of eyes. The man was too easy sometimes. 

By then, the sun hung low in the sky and you’d asked Karlach to come stand by the blankets and act as a heater to speed up the drying process. 

“Do you miss him already?” she teased.

“Who?” you teased back, adjusting another blanket.

“Do you loooove him?”

You sputtered. “What?! No! I mean- I don’t know! This is new for me, and new for him and we’re figuring things out, we’ve barely talked about it and-”

She laughed at your word vomit. “Was it good?”

You paused. “Was what good?”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “You know what.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart begin to pound. “Can we not talk about this?”

Karlach groaned. “Come on Soldier, I’m so pent up it’s criminal! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“Karlach!” You whisper shouted. Luckily the others were too busy with their assigned preparation tasks to pay attention to the two of you huddled behind the damp blankets. 

She didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows at you to encourage you to talk.

You sighed and avoided eye contact. “It was really good,” you muttered, hoping she might not hear you.

A smug smile graced her lips. “I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, wringing the water out of one of the blankets on the end of the clothesline. 

“He seems like the type who’d know his way around.”

“Yeah, well.”

“And how does he compare? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Um…” You pursed your lips.

“Wait, but you just said it was really good?”

“It was!”

“But-?”

“There is no but! He was really good!”

“You’re hiding something, Soldier, I can tell. He wasn’t the best you’ve ever had?”

“It’s just that… there haven’t been… others… to compare it to.”

Karlach stared at you. “WHAT?!” Her flames erupted to the point where you had to take a few steps back. 

“Shh! Quiet!” You listened for your other companions but heard nothing. 

“Don’t tell me Astarion was your first?!”

“And so what if he was!”

“The smug bastard,” Karlach muttered. Her face grew serious. “If he so much as looks at you wrong, tell me, and I’ll kill him.”

You laughed. “Shadowheart’s first in line to kill him, but don’t worry, I’ll have you waiting in the wings.”

“I’m serious. I’ll kill the pointy freak before he can hurt you, mark my words.”

You laughed again, moving closer to her now that her flames were calming. “Astarion and I are both adults. I’ll be fine.” Your voice went soft, “And I think he truly cares for me.”

Karlach huffed in disbelief. “Gross little vampire probably smelled your virgin blood and couldn’t keep away.” 

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. He likes me.”

“We all like you,” Karlach sighed. “You’re a lot of fun.”

“Thank you.”

“But none of us would want to see you get hurt by the leech.”

“You know, I think he’s more sensitive than you all realize.”

“Astarion.” It was more of a statement of disbelief than a question. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Yes.”

“Mr. ‘Tell Me How You’d Like to Die?’ Mr. ‘Describe How I Look in the Mirror and Tell Me I’m Beautiful?’ Mr. ‘I Have A Troubling Relationship with Power Over Others?’” She looked at you pointedly. “Mr.-”

“Alright,” you cut her off. 

“No wait, I've got another.” Karlach held up her finger like she was about to say something. “Nope. Lost it. Damn, it felt like a good one, too.”

“We all have our quirks,” you said, steering the conversion back on track. “Astarion, I think, has a few more than one might deem acceptable, but I trust him. He’s been true to his word about everything so far.” Your voice got small, “And I really like him.”

Karlach blew out a breath of resignation. “I know you do, Soldier.” Her hesitance turned into thoughtfulness. “And he did look pretty smitten when I found you both this morning.”

Your face went red at the memory. “Gods, that was so embarrassing. I still can’t believe we fell asleep out there.” Your brain took a second to process what she’d said. You turned to look at her, a small smile forming. “‘Smitten?’ Do you really think so?”

Karlach rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yes, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Your small smile grew into a smirk of satisfaction. You grew giddy. “You should have heard him, Karlach! He was so sweet, and gentle, and he kept checking in with me, and didn’t make me feel awkward or bad, and his body, oh my GODS, his body! When I say he’s unfairly beautiful, it truly is unfair because, how in the Nine Hells do you get abs like that and-”

Karlach was watching you with a fond smile on her face. She grinned and lifted a hand to stop you. “Okay, okay, I believe you. He took care of you.”

You sighed happily. “He did.”

“I’m glad.” After a moment, she sighed dramatically. “Okay, so maybe he didn’t just fuck you in some sort of weird vampire power play because you’re a virgin.”

“Karlach!” You furrowed your brows. “Seriously?”

“Oh, sorry,” she amended, “you were a virgin.”

You scrunched your nose at her. “You’re so lucky you’re a walking inferno, otherwise I’d punch you so hard right now.”

“You don’t have the guts,” she teased. “You’re too soft, Soldier.”

“I am,” you sighed in agreement. 

The two of you stood in a pleasant silence while Karlach paced back and forth to dry the blankets evenly. 

“I’d hug you if I could, you know,” she said quietly. “I am happy for you. And if anyone is getting laid around here, I’m glad it’s you.”

“Thanks?” you laughed. 

“But if he gives you any trouble, you come find Mama K, yeah?”

You saluted her playfully and she mirrored you.

“Your guests dost approach from the east.”

“WITHERS,” you stomped your foot, pretending to be upset, but smiling over at him. “We need to put a bell on you to remind us that you’re still alive.”

“I am not still of this realm of existence,” Withers corrected.

“You know what she means, skelly boy,” Karlach grinned over at him and then at you. “Come on soldier, let’s go greet our adoring fans.”

Karlach led the way to the center of camp where sure enough, Halsin and the tieflings of the Emerald Grove were emerging through the brush. Halsin caught your eye and waved affably. You waved back, happy to see him looking so well after the rescue from the goblin camp. 

Behind him, he tugged a cart meant for an ox, filled to the brim with food and booze and the eight troublesome kids who’d been kind enough to show you their hideout hidden beneath the Grove. Mol hopped out first, followed by Arabella and Mattis and the others who looked around briefly before zeroing in on the abandoned little temple past the waterfall in the corner of camp. They made their way over to it and disappeared inside.

Noted. You’d have to check on them later.

Suddenly a flash of blue and pink was launching itself at you and you stumbled backwards as it wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Alfira!” you wheezed, returning her hug.

She pulled away, grinning. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” She was positively giddy and her mood was infectious. “I need to get some wine in me first, but we must play something together!”

Your smile faltered a little. “I’d love to, but my lute’s a little worse for wear.” You led her over to your tent and gathered a few pieces of the shattered instrument from your bag.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding.” Alfira took the pieces and examined them closely. 

Lakrissa found her way over to you. “Is this one causing trouble?” she asked, playfully slinging an arm around Alfira’s shoulders. “She was buzzing all afternoon about this shindig.”

“Hi Lakrissa,” you greeted happily. “No, I was actually just showing her the state of my lute.” You pulled a loose string out of your bag to emphasize your point. 

“I’ve seen this before,” Alfira took the string from you and inspected it along with the few shards of wood you’d already handed her. “The music overtook you during a particularly powerful song and your trusty instrument suffered the consequences. Did you bash it into a rock in a fit of musical liberation? Been there.”

You gritted your teeth sheepishly. “I wish it was in a fit of musical liberation. No, I kind of got backed into a corner protecting Astarion from a bugbear attack.”

“The mouthy one?” Lakrissa asked.

“You’ve met a mouthy bugbear?”

“No, Alfie, I mean their mouthy friend. The one with the hair?” She lifted her hand up to her own head to try and emphasize the height of his hair. 

“Oh yeah! Hard to keep track of you all,” Alfira shrugged.

You laughed, “Think about how we feel! There’s a billion of you!” You gestured around to the tieflings that were now acclimating to your spruced up camp.

Shadowheart had done a great job of tidying the clearing of fallen branches and mischievous weeds and had gone around making sure that everybody’s tents were in order. With the help of Lae’zel and Karlach, the three had managed to move a large log into the center of camp that was acting as a table that currently housed the booze your party had gathered, along with the food Gale had been preparing all afternoon. 

Gale, as soon as he’d declared the meal to be sufficient, had gone around hanging colorful banners throughout the camp with a few magic words and the snap of his fingers. You’d offered to help him in his effort but he politely declined, citing Shadowheart’s wrath. 

Now Halsin, Zevlor, and a few of the other adult tieflings were unloading the cattle cart and adding their hoard of food and drink to the table. Shadowheart and Gale were already filling goblets with wine and Lae’zel was chatting with (or maybe threatening) a tiefling that you recognized as one of the guards at the gate to the Grove. Karlach waved over at you from where she was talking with Dammon and you returned it happily.

You turned back to Alfira and Lakrissa. “Sorry Alfira, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to play with you tonight.”

“Nonsense!” She took you by the hand and led you and Lakrissa to the cattle cart. She pulled out two lutes and held one out to you. “One’s my teacher’s. I’ll play hers and you can borrow mine for tonight.”

You took the instrument she offered carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It was lovingly worn and smooth to the touch. You gave an experimental pluck at one of the strings. Perfectly in tune. You strummed a chord and minor illusioned Gale’s robes to go from deep purple to a loud, obnoxious orange. 

Gale paused in his pouring of wine as Shadowheart snorted. He looked down at his robes then looked over at you smirking at him. “Hey…” He scolded with no ice behind his words. He addressed Alfira and Lakrissa who were holding back giggles, “You realize you’ve just given her a literal instrument to channel the weave more potently, and now she can make tonight extremely irritating for us all?”

“You missed my illusions,” you teased, strumming again and returning his robes to their royal purple hue.

“On the contrary, we were only gifted about twelve blissful hours without you tormenting us with your tomfoolery.” 

You pouted at him teasingly. “How sad.” You poised your hands, ready to strum another chord. “I could make things so much worse,” you threatened, your voice lowered to a stupid octave.

“Behave,” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows at you, but you could see the amusement that played at her features.

“Fine,” you groaned and turned back to Alfira. “Thank you for this, I promise not to attack another bugbear with it for the sake of the mouthy one.”

A voice sounded from behind you. “The mouthy one?”

Astarion came to stand beside you, his hands clasped behind his back and skin speckled with blood spatter. For some reason, he absolutely stank. 

“Oh gods,” you said, scrunching your nose and turning away. “Did you and Wyll wander into a stinking cloud or something?”

“Hello, dearest,” he purred, pulling you to him and puckering his lips for a playful kiss, but you pushed his face away, avoiding his mouth at all costs.

“Get away from me, freak,” you laughed as he was able to plant a kiss on your cheek with a loud “MWAH.” He looked very pleased with himself. 

Alfira and Lakrissa, meanwhile, watched this display politely with their noses plugged.

Lakrissa gestured between the two of you. “When did this happen?” Her voice was nasally. 

“He’s always been a jackass,” you said.

“She means, love, when did you finally pluck up the courage to confess your undying love for me?” The flamboyant lilt in Astarion’s voice made you smile. 

“This just happened, actually,” you said, pointing from you to Astarion. “The stink is extra new.” 

“Do you like it, darling? A gift from one of the goblins at that Blighted Village. They weren’t pleased we came for their wine, stink bombs were thrown, blood was spilled, a tale as old as time.”

“Did you get to murder a bunch of goblins?” Despite the topic, you spoke to him as if he were a child. 

“I did,” he said, his voice gravelly, his face twisted in a wicked smirk. 

“Good for you. Now get the hells away from us.” You pointed in the direction of his tent. “I don’t know why you haven’t already scrubbed your skin raw to get rid of that smell. You hate things of a vile nature.” You adjusted your accent to sound like him as you said the last bit. “Though you do love gore.”

“I had to share this delightful experience with you first, my sweet. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” You gave him a teasingly sour expression and pushed him off in the direction of his tent. “Get fresh clothes and go jump in the lake or something! Then burn that armor!”

Astarion grabbed your arm and pulled you closer again, much to your dismay and protest. He brought his mouth to your ear. “Care to join me?”

You met his gaze, which flickered down to your lips for a moment, only for a roguish grin to spread across his face. You grew flustered and looked away.

“Maybe later.”

He chuckled, “Can’t wait.” Then he spun on his heel and headed off to his tent.

“Sorry about that,” you said, turning back to Alfira and Lakrissa, only to discover that they’d already walked away. You spotted them pouring themselves some wine a little ways off and sighed. 

“They left ages ago,” Astarion called over his shoulder.

“And you’re still here?” you called back, smiling. 

He laughed and you settled Alfira’s lute safely within your tent before you meandered your way over to Rolan and his siblings who were seated not far off. Rolan was bent over, his eyes closed in concentration. 

“Evening, folks,” you greeted and were met with joyful hellos from Lia and Cal.

“You’re just in time for Rolan’s extremely cool magic trick.” Lia teased.

“That is, if he’d hurry up and do it already,” Cal added.

“Patience,” Rolan said. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” He cracked his knuckles enthusiastically. 

Cal leaned forward and whispered loud enough for all of you to hear, “Having performance issues, Rolan?”

“Hush, you,” Rolan rolled his eyes.

“I, for one, love a good bout of showmanship,” you settled in next to Cal. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Rolan gestured to you, vindicated. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth as he looked at his siblings. He took a deep breath. “And…”

A burst of colorful light erupted from his hands as he lifted them into the air.

“...behold!” He exclaimed as the colors faded into tiny bursts of light, dissipating like fireworks.

You clapped excitedly. “Beautiful!”

Rolan looked over at you, clearly pleased. “Adoring applause? You’re too kind.” He bowed dramatically, making a show of his gratitude. 

Lia turned to Cal. “Remember when he could barely cast that?”

Cal nodded. “They grow up so fast.”

Something caught your attention from a ways off. Peeking out from behind the large cluster of rocks you found yourself facing was Silfy; the younger sister of Mattis, the tiefling child who tried to sell you a “lucky ring.” Astarion had halted your hand when you went to give him a coin, shaking his head and explaining that you were being scammed. 

Now, however, Silfy seemed alone. You remembered how upset she’d been when you caught her trying to rifle through your pockets. 

“Never have I met such troglodytes,” you heard Rolan laugh. “Now, pass the wine.”

“I have to take care of something,” you said as you stood up. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before the party’s over,” you smiled and waved, making your way over to Silfy’s hiding spot. 

You saw her see you and duck behind the rock. 

“Hello,” you coaxed gently, bending on your knee to level your height with hers. Silfy poked her head out but looked nervous. “It’s okay,” you encouraged. “You’re Silfy, right?”

She came out slowly and nodded. 

“That was a pretty cool show just now, huh?” You said, referencing Rolan’s trick which she’d no doubt seen. 

She nodded again and looked at her feet.

“What are you doing over here all alone?”

She sniffled. “Mattis was mean to me.”

You tilted your head. “What did he say?”

Silfy looked up at you. “He said Mol would never let me in her Guild in the city because I’m no good at pick-pocketing.” Her voice wobbled and you could tell she was trying not to cry.

You hid a smile. The things siblings fought about… And this particular fight was extra unusual. “Should we go talk to him?” you asked.

“Okay,” she said and watched as you stood. 

“Come on,” you said and took her hand.

Together, you and Silfy walked around the length of camp, passing people as you went. You tossed out polite greetings and a few kind words, but eventually made it to the waterfall and the slippery log that connected your camp to the little temple where you knew the other kids were hanging out. You held tight to Silfy as you crossed the log.

Mol stood by the entrance. “Silfy!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to see her. “There you are.”

Silfy let go of your hand and approached Mol. “Sorry I’m no good at pick-pocketing,” her voice barely audible above the roar of the waterfall a few feet away. 

“Is that what Mattis said that made you run away? Ah, don’t listen to him. You’ll get plenty of practice before we reach the Gate.” 

Silfy stood up a little straighter and looked pleased. 

Mol cocked her head towards the temple entrance. “Get in there,” she smiled.

Silfy smiled back and ran inside. Mol turned to face you. 

“Thanks for that,” she said. 

“Happy to help,” you said, attempting to subtly peer into the temple and see what the others were up to.

“You came through for us. That’s a change from most adults I know.” 

You shifted a little to try and get a better angle. It was too dark.

“What are you guys doing way over here?” you asked absently.

“Watching a bunch of old folks get dumber by the dram-full. And when they run dry… I’ve got a few bottles tucked away to keep things flowing.” She grinned at her own ingenuity. “For a price, of course,” she added. 

“Smart,” you nodded and crossed your arms. An idea had struck you earlier in the evening when you saw the kids slink over here. You readjusted your feet, trying to look like an authority figure but knowing Mol was probably immune to the act. “How would you guys like to get a little practice in, this evening?”

Mol looked at you curiously. “Practice what?”

“Scamming. Scheming. Stealing.”

“I’m listening.”

“One of the men I travel with, the one with the hair-”

“-long or floofy?”

“Floofy, for sure,” you answered almost immediately.

“Right. I know him.”

“Well he considers himself to be an expert at sleight of hand.”

Mol scoffed.

“I know,” you agreed. “I think you should all prove you’re better than him.”

“Easy,” Mol crossed her arms. “How?”

“Here’s my proposal: You each try to take something from his tent or off his person without getting caught. If you get caught, you’re out.”

“And if we don’t get caught?” 

“Depending on what it is you took, I might let you keep it.”

Mol scoffed again. “What’s the point of stealing off him if there’s a chance we won’t be able to keep our spoils?”

You pursed your lips in agreement. “Honestly, I really want to prank him and I think it would be hilarious if you guys took his stuff. He loves his stuff.”

“I do love a good con…” Mol pondered for a moment. “Alright, counteroffer.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Since you happened to catch me in a good mood; we do this for you and we have your sworn loyalty once we establish ourselves as the best Guild in the Gate.” She thought for another moment. “Also two hundred gold.”

You sucked in a breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Mol.” You held out your hand for her to shake. “But you’ve got a deal.”

“Hang on, you’re not gonna try to talk us out of it? Not gonna haggle?”

“I already tried to talk you out of it back at the Grove,” you shrugged. “But you’re all way too clever for your own good and I know there’s no changing your minds. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some friends waiting for us in the city.” You smiled at her, your hand still outstretched. 

She returned your smile and took your hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”

“A pleasure doing business with you,” you bowed dramatically and Mol snickered.

Mol made her way to the open door of the temple. She looked back at you. “I expect to see that two hundred gold before the night is through.”

“I’ll go get it right now,” you said pointing back towards camp.

Mol nodded, satisfied, then entered the temple. You heard her shout as you were leaving: “Alright, listen up! We’ve got a job.”

You smiled to yourself. You didn’t know what had come over you, and you knew that it was dangerous to be negotiating deals with con artists in the making, but you couldn’t help yourself. Especially after Astarion had crowded you in the aftermath of the stink bomb he’d been hit with. You loved watching him squirm and this was a great opportunity to do so. Mol and her gang of tiefling troublemakers were harmless as they were right now. They’d managed to take odds and ends from around the Grove, minus Arabella’s attempt to take the idol from the druids’ ritual. There was nothing currently at camp that couldn’t be replaced on the road. After all, you’d all crashed onto the same beach with nothing but the clothes on your backs. Well, except maybe the artifact Shadowheart concealed on her person, but you had just sicced the kids in the opposite direction towards the vampire. 

You made your way back into camp, stopping to chat with Zevlor and Halsin. 

“Gentlemen,” you acknowledged, trying not to seem guilty after conspiring with the leader of the child criminals a few yards away. “A pleasure to see you both.” You noticed Zevlor was enjoying a goblet of wine, but Halsin was not. “Not partaking in the revelry, Halsin?” 

He chuckled. “I assume you mean my lack of a goblet of wine or a cask of ale?”

You nodded.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”

“Oh, ho, ho.” You and Zevlor made amused eye contact. “You sure you’re not a bard, archdruid?” You elbowed Halsin playfully and he chuckled again. 

“You’ve never heard me singing. Which makes you very fortunate.”

Zevlor laughed. “Yes, the singing we could probably do without. It feels so good to see these people smiling, let’s not ruin it. ”

“Then I shall not keep your ear any longer,” Halsin said, holding up his hands in playful surrender. He nodded to you. “There are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. Go enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry; there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”

Zevlor raised his goblet to you. “Here, here.” You mimed raising your own cup to clink with his. You exchanged goodbyes and the men resumed whatever conversation they’d been having before you walked by. 

Your tent wasn’t far off and you knew you had plenty of gold in your bag to spare for your hired thieves. You exchanged a few more hellos before making it over to your tent. You lit a single candle to help you search your bag in the dim light of your tent and tried to not draw attention to yourself. You started digging through your bag for your coin pouch. 

Just as you’d counted out the last of the gold, you heard Astarion behind you. 

“Here’s my little treat,” he purred.

You stood up quickly, miscalculating where you were located in space and hitting your head against the top of your tent.

“Agh!” you yelped, turning around to face Astarion and ducking to properly exit. You looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t ask what you were up to.

He looked you up and down. “With their cheeks all flushed.” 

“Hi,” you said, not knowing how to respond. 

“Hello,” he smiled, drawing closer. “You’ll notice a distinct lack of blood stains and horrid stench to me.” He held out his arms and spun to show off his fresh, clean appearance. “It’s crazy what a little water and perfume can accomplish.”

“Well done,” you teased. “You’ve mastered basic hygiene.” 

He moved even closer. “Go on,” he said, leaning towards you, “give me a sniff.”

“And smell more rotten eggs? I’ll pass.”

“Come on,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You looked at him skeptically, then leaned in a little and inhaled. 

He smelled just as good as he had this morning, perhaps even better given that he’d just reapplied whatever it was he used to scent himself. You leaned in closer to his throat and inhaled again. It was a clean scent; one that was mature and distinctly male. It was delicious.

“What is that?” you asked, not pulling away.

Astarion chuckled lowly. “You like it?”

You finally pulled back and nodded. 

“Just a little scent profile I concocted to mask the unfortunate smell of death that comes from being, well, dead.”

“Do tell,” you probed, just as you noticed Mattis and Silfy sneaking around, a little ways off, clearly on their way to you and Astarion. You did your best to hide your stare, but Astarion noticed when your eyes shifted back a little too quickly and he looked behind himself. Mattis and Silfy quickly ducked behind a nearby tent. He turned back to face you.

“Thought I saw something. It was nothing.” It was a bad excuse, was what it was.

Astarion narrowed his eyes but continued, excited to talk about his scent mixture. “Mind you, my undead smell is very faint, but it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hit of aged brandy can’t hide. It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse.”

“Sounds like you missed your calling as a perfumer,” you said, genuinely interested in what he was saying but noticing Mattis and Silfy out of the corner of your eye. 

“I did, didn’t I?”

It was then that Mattis and Silfy approached you both.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mattis said, the picture of innocence. “Silfy and I just wanted to thank you again for finding her earlier.”

Silfy nodded.

“Oh!” you said, doing your best to sound shocked. You bent to get on eye level with her again. “I’m glad you’re okay, Silfy.”

Silfy sniffled and threw her arms around your neck. “Oh, thank you, Miss Hero!”

“Aw, this is too much,” you said, rubbing her back and making eye contact with Mattis. “I’m always happy to help.”

Mattis came around behind you and hugged you as well. 

“Thank you for reuniting me with my baby sister.”

You felt his hand reach for your own and grab the pouch containing the two hundred gold for Mol. He concealed it expertly. 

Both he and Silfy pulled away from you at the same time. “Well, guess we better head back to the others. It was so nice meeting you.” Mattis turned to leave but Silfy lingered.

“Come find us in Baldur’s Gate!”

You smiled at her. “We definitely will,” you squeezed her hands before she shuffled off to join Mattis walking back towards the temple. 

You stood up, dusting off the front of your pants. 

Astarion looked at you with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

You pointed with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction the kids were headed. “That was weird.”

“Why’d you give them a coin purse?”

You sputtered. “Why did I-? Whaaaaat? I didn’t-”

Astarion placed his hands on his hips. 

You sighed and looked at your feet. “Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Silfy was upset because Mattis said she wasn’t good at pick-pocketing, so I went to the kids and said Silfy could practice on me.” You smiled lamely.

“So why did the brother pocket it?” He was onto you.

“I uh… think it was a round one type of thing. So next time it’ll just be Silfy.”

“Uh huh.” Astarion didn’t look convinced. “I’m going to assume you lost some sort of bet with Mol and her fleet of child criminals and that those two are the ones who came to collect.”

“Ah!” you exclaimed. “You caught me! I said I could beat Arabella in a staring contest and lost big time. Like, double or nothing lost.”

Astarion tsked and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You really must stop picking fights with children that you cannot win.”

“I can win,” you got defensive, even though you were lying through your teeth. 

Astarion tilted his head in disbelief. 

“I can!” You doubled down. 

“Mhm.” Astarion leaned forward and kissed you deeply, tilting you back a bit and bringing his hand to your cheek. 

He pulled away and you blinked back at him, dazed. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “You and your weird soft spot for those urchins.” He pretended to gag, as if admitting such things was making him sick.

“Aw, shucks.” 

He groaned. “I’m going to have to insist that you remove ‘aw shucks’ from your vocabulary immediately.” 

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Your eyes went to his mouth.

He flashed his fangs. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He bent forward to kiss your neck and you tilted your head to give him better access.

“Astarion,” you half protested, “people can see us.”

“Let them,” he hummed against your throat. He moved his mouth so it was beside your ear. “Come to my bed tonight.”

A pleasant chill ran through your body. “I’ve seen your bed,” you sighed, thinking of the wooden pallet in his tent that was often covered with jars of half-drunk animal blood. “Come to mine instead.” 

Astarion growled from the back of his throat and kissed your neck again. 

“Yo, Astarion!” Karlach’s voice called from the food table. 

He pulled back slowly and turned to her, his arms still resting around your waist. “I’m a smidge busy here, Karlach.”

Karlach held up her hands innocently. She made eye contact with you and winked. “I just wanted to know if you’d seen all the wine the tieflings brought.”

“Of course I’ve seen the wine, I procured half of- wait, the tieflings brought wine?” He immediately pulled away from you and marched over to the table, examining the copious bottles of liquor. “So I got a stink bomb thrown at me and it was for nothing?!”

Karlach sucked in a breath. “Seems like it. Sorry, mate.”

Astarion turned back to look at you, clearly distraught by this discovery. You withheld a laugh.

He turned back and picked up a bottle and goblet. “Well, we’ll see who’s the better sommelier: me or the half-fiends.”

Karlach turned quickly and whipped him with her tail.

“Hey!” He stumbled a little, but caught himself. 

“Whoops! Sorry, you can never trust us half-fiends.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh,” Astarion backtracked. “Apologies, Karlach. I didn’t mean that.”

“Mmm,” Karlach crossed her arms. Then she smiled. “Wanna get drunk?”

“Gods, yes,” he sighed and uncorked a bottle, grabbing two goblets. He turned back towards you, still standing at your tent. “Care to partake?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m going to continue with my rounds,” you said, pointing vaguely towards the party at large.

Astarion shrugged and turned back to Karlach.

“Your loss, Soldier!”

“Save me a glass of the best stuff,” you called before walking in the direction of Gale’s tent. 

“No promises,” Astarion sang as you rounded the corner and found Gale at his tent, a goblet of wine in his hand and a half eaten plate of food set off to the side. 

“And how’s my favorite wizard enjoying the evening’s festivities?” you asked upon arrival.

“Ah,” he smiled, “come to turn my robes yellow this time?”

You held up your hands. “No lute. Sorry about earlier.”

“All in good fun,” he reassured. “I did miss your tomfoolery.”

“I knew you did,” you elbowed him playfully and he laughed.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” He looked up at the stars. 

Your gaze followed his. “That it is.”

“Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.”

“Yes, destruction by cleric would have been a tough way to go.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled and looked back up at the stars. “This is a view I once might have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.” He gestured over to Danis and Bex, drunkenly giggling with each other not far off. 

He turned back to you. “She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting by the firelight…”

You smiled at the wistful look on his face. “I hope you’re referring to your cat and not Mystra.”

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose- no!” His voice cracked a little as he exclaimed. “Tara is not any cat. She’s a tressym. And given your confusion, I’m guessing you’ve never met one.”

“Guilty,” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“They’re brilliant creatures; fine company for any self-respecting wizard. She’d be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I’ve given her little to be proud of recently.” 

“Not true! Gale, you have so much to be proud of.” 

“You’re very kind,” he sighed. “She’s the one who discovered that the orb’s fury could be quelled with magically-infused items, you know.”

“You’re kidding! How’d she figure that out?”

“A lot of trial and error,” Gale laughed, holding a hand to his chest where the orb laid quiet for now. “I can still feel the phantom torment of her claws prodding me. Regardless, after so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to repay the favor. Not directly to Tara, but these poor tieflings. I’m sure she would approve.”

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know she would.”

He smiled at you, then looked away. “So… you and Astarion.”

“Me and Astarion,” you bobbed back and forth on your feet.

“He has a certain charm about him, Astarion,” he nodded. “Then again, so does a tiger when it purrs.” He took a swig of his wine.

“Gale, if I did something that led you to think-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted before you could finish the thought. “You did nothing of the sort. I think I’m just too deep in my cups.” He looked down into his goblet and sighed before looking back at you. “I’m glad you found each other. And better I have this revelation now than farther into our journey.”

“You’ll always be my favorite wizard,” you said, punching his bicep in playful camaraderie. “I hope this doesn’t change things between us. I value our friendship too much.”

He chuckled softly, his hand ghosting over where yours had just made contact. “This changes nothing.” A reassuring smile graced his features. 

Movement to your left on the beach caught your attention.

“Is that Wyll?” you asked.

Gale followed your eyes over to his right. “Ah, yes I believe he’s been pensively staring at the water for a majority of the evening.”

“And you didn’t check on him?”

“I did, but he insisted on being alone. Though I’m sure he would much rather welcome your company than that of a babbling wizard.” He nudged you with his elbow. “But after that, go indulge in the frivolities! They’re good for the heart. And mine will be lighter, to see you enjoying yourself.”

You surged forward and hugged him. He held you tightly while still clutching his goblet. When you pulled away you pointed at him. “You still need to teach me lanceboard.”

“And you need to stop enchanting the pieces to attack each other.”

“I will when it stops making you laugh.” You grinned at him, then waved and headed towards Wyll.

Just as Gale had said, Wyll was standing alone by the water’s edge, past the drying blankets that swayed subtly in the evening air. 

“Thought I smelled you over here,” you said, sliding down some rocks and making him noticeably flinch.

“Oh gods, do I still stink?” He raised his arm to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I fear I’ll never be fully rid of it.”

“I was teasing,” you came to stand beside him and looked at the lake. “Though, Astarion seems to have a promising career ahead of himself as a perfumer if you need his help.”

Wyll chuckled. “Good to know that your new beau smells as good as he looks.”

“Indeed he does,” you smiled at him and he smiled back. 

After a moment, Wyll sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

“It’s no party without the Blade of Frontiers.”

“Really? I’m honored.” He turned back to face the water. “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood. And I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.”

“What? Why?” It concerned you deeply that one of your beloved companions was feeling down and you hadn’t even noticed. “What brought this on?”

“I’m a devil,” Wyll scowled. “I love the people from the Grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays. You don’t want a devil at your party.”

You were surprised he felt that way. Mizora had so kindly gifted him his devilish features not long after Karlach officially joined your team well over a tenday ago, and the people of the Grove had long since come to terms with the Blade’s new horns. He was still Wyll; kind, fiercely protective, and above all, a good man. Those who couldn’t see that were fools.

“Claws will pop the balloons, you see,” Wyll teased, trying to lift the mood. “And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.” 

You smiled sadly. “You don’t unsettle me. Or any of us. You know that.”

Wyll laughed humorlessly. “If only half the world had half the heart you do.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”

“I suspect you’re the best dancer among us, Mr. Upper City. I’d love to dance with you sometime.”

Wyll laughed. “In truth, I always enjoyed a bit of pomp.”

“You seem like the type,” you laughed.

“I once beat the Baldurian record for the most sarabandes dances in a single evening. Much to the exhaustion of the good ladies and gentlemen of the Gate.” 

“I can see it now,” you said wistfully.

“I had years of lessons, but honestly, it’s all about your partner.” 

You took a step back and bowed dramatically. “Well I hope one of these evenings I might be a proper partner to stumble along with.”

Wyll smirked and bowed back to you. “One of these evenings,” he agreed. He inhaled deeply and turned back to the lake. “I just need some time alone beneath the stars, and I’ll be back to my old self. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, walking forward and hugging him. He returned it and you squeezed him tightly. 

“Okay,” he jokingly wheezed, “you have my word.”

“Good,” you pulled away. “You know where to find me,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the party. 

“I do,” Wyll nodded, looking at you fondly. 

You turned and called down the beach, “Keep an eye on him, Withers!”

Withers simply stared at you from his spot by the boats. 

You placed your hands on your hips. “One of these days I will crack him.”

Wyll laughed and waved you off. “Good luck with that.”

As you reemerged into the party, you saw Zaki run past you holding a tin of one of Astarion’s hair products. You snorted and looked around to make sure Astarion hadn’t seen. 

No, he and Karlach were still busy downing goblets of wine and comparing them to each other. 

“Bitter!” Astarion exclaimed, sticking out his tongue and pulling the goblet away from his mouth as if it had bitten him.

“Ah, you’ve got no taste, Astarion!” Karlach clapped him on the back. “This one’s better than the crap you served three cups ago.”

Astarion scoffed. “That was a classic vintage! Gods, it’s like you know nothing of fine wines.”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “Um, hello? Ten years in Avernus, mate. Didn’t get much drinking in while enslaved. Anything’s better than fire wine.”

“Tragic,” was all he said in response.

Suddenly Alfira was running over to you. “There you are!” The sweet scent of alcohol wafted off of her and she held a goblet in one hand and her teacher’s lute in the other. “Now, this might be the wine talking, but I’m feeling inspired. Thinking of writing my next song… about you.” 

“Me?” you asked, placing your hands on your chest and batting your eyes. “I’m flattered.”

Alfira nodded. “But I need an angle. Any ideas?”

You thought for a moment, then made your voice pompous. “Let it be only as truthful as true poetry would permit.”

Alfira grinned and matched your tone, “But of course.” Then she became serious, “You achieved something beyond mere fact by helping all of us. That deserves to be remembered.” She shut her eyes for a moment, regaining her thoughts. “Buuuut, like I said, I need more wine before I truly start waxing poetic. Shall we play a song together now?”

“Great idea,” you grinned and started making your way to your tent to retrieve her lute. 

As you passed by Astarion and Karlach, you watched Arabella reach into Astarion’s back pocket and come away with what looked like a few coins. She made eye contact with you and smirked before running off.

Karlach clearly saw this occur and held in a laugh. She looked past Astarion at you and you held a finger up to your mouth, signaling for her not to say anything. She snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Astarion asked.

“Nothing, you just look so stupid when you sniff wine like that.”

“I do not!” he protested. A beat. “Do I?”

You shook your head to yourself as you made it to your tent and grabbed the lute, walking with Alfira to the center of camp by the fire. 

“What shall we play?” she asked. 

“How about a classic?” you suggested, strumming the opening chords to “Bard Dance.”

Alfira grinned and nodded, immediately picking up the harmonies to the song while you took the melody. A sudden whistling caught your ear and you turned to see Volo performing the song with just as much gusto as the two of you. Had he been here the whole time?

Around you, the tieflings and your companions gathered around to hear you both play. They were stiff at first, merely listening and swaying to the familiar tune they’d no doubt heard many times. It wasn’t long before Danis bowed to Bex, who curtsied back, and the two began dancing merrily around the clearing. 

With the ice broken, others coupled off to dance together, and others formed groups of three or four. 

Shadowheart clapped along to the beat as Gale approached her and twirled her around happily. Karlach joined the fray, swinging her hips and waving her arms, but was careful not to hit anyone by mistake. Even Halsin joined in on the fun, awkwardly marching back and forth to the beat and encouraging shy tieflings to join him. Lae’zel and Astarion remained on the edge of the crowd, but you could see Lae’zel tapping her foot to the beat despite her best efforts to remain unaffected by the merriment. 

As your fingers danced over the strings, you sent off a few minor illusions of fireworks to add some dazzle to the performance. Alfira added her own dancing lights to swirl around the audience.

You made eye contact with Astarion who was smirking at you. He made to raise his goblet to you in a toast, but his hand was empty. He looked around himself to see if he’d misplaced it, but movement farther back in camp let you know that it was Meli who had absconded with the cup. You smiled widely at Astarion and shrugged. He shrugged back, smiling and reaching for a new cup. 

As the jovial song came to an end, the audience clapped and a few members approached you and Alfira, thanking you for the music and placing a few coins in your palms. 

“Marvelous!”

“Such fun!”

“Alfira, you simply must play for us on our journey to the Gate!”

“No praise for the wizard, Volo?” Volo complained to an unhearing crowd. He humphed and returned to scribbling in a notebook closeby.

You and Alfira thanked everyone before you handed Alfira her lute back.

“Thank you for this,” you said. “I’d love to play again with you some time.”

Alfira took the instrument from you and nodded. “Oh, yes please!” She looked at her lute for a moment, then held it back out to you. “You should keep this one.” 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “You’ve clearly had it for a long time. It must hold sentimental value to you. I don’t want you to part with it, I’ll have a new lute in no time.”

“Please,” Alfira insisted, still holding it out. “You play so beautifully.”

“Don’t go inflating her ego now,” Astarion said as he approached carrying two goblets of wine. “She’s annoying enough as it is.” 

Behind him you saw Mirkon run by with a set of thieves' tools.

Astarion handed you one of the goblets of wine and smiled at you. “Hello, my sweet.”

“Hi,” you said shyly, still not used to his full attention but enjoying it nonetheless.

“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.

“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”

You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.

“-she won’t be needing the lute.”

“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”

He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira. 

She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.” 

You nodded and smiled as she left to rejoin Lakrissa at the wine table.

You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.

“What was that?” you asked.

“What was what, darling?”

“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”

Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.

You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”

“And if I did?”

“Where?”

He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”

He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip. 

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”

He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”

He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine. 

When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.” 

“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded.

You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”

“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”

“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”

You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.

Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”

“Darling, this is the best they had.” 

“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.

He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.” 

“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”

He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Rude,” you scoffed, “but fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”

Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”

You snorted. “How’d that go?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”

You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”

Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes. 

You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.

“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”

“What are you looking for?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.

You smirked. “Okay,” you said, pretty sure he was looking for the lute he’d snatched for you. As you were about to step away, you paused, remembering the gang of young thieves actively stealing from Astarion. “I-” you shook your head. “Nevermind, keep looking.”

“I will, now go away.” He got up to look behind his tent. 

You held in a laugh and made your way over to Shadowheart, who you just witnessed pour herself a fresh glass of wine. 

“Hello,” you said, joining her at the refreshments table and popping a grape into your mouth. The crisp snap of the grape reminded you how hungry you were and you began to fill a plate with food. 

“Hungry?” Shadowheart laughed.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I missed bread and cheese this afternoon.”

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “And whose fault was that?”

You slowed your chewing and slouched. “Mine.”

“Uh huh,” she took a swig of wine and smiled at you. “I think it’s safe to say you learned your lesson.”

You nodded as you took a large bite off a bread roll. 

Shadowheart took a step back to rest against the table. She surveyed the party at large. 

“Everyone seems to be in high spirits.”

You swallowed heavily and willed yourself not to choke, clearing your throat instead. “You put together a great party, Shadowheart.”

“I know,” she smiled. She shimmied closer to you and nodded over to Astarion’s tent where the man was still searching around, looking deeply confused. “I saw you and Astarion have been reunited.”

You lifted your gaze to Astarion’s tent, your expression melting into one of pure adoration. He was such an idiot. Even though you knew you were the cause of his ignorance. You shook your head, snapping out of it.

“Sorry again.”

Shadowheart blew out a puff of air. “Far be it from me to keep you two apart any longer. Besides,” she nudged you playfully, “blood must still be running hot. After everything.”

This time you did choke. Shadowheart’s eyes widened and she smacked you on the back.

“I’m fine!” you insisted. You cleared your throat and took a sip of wine. 

Shadowheart laughed. “It’s fun getting you flustered.”

“I’m sure Astarion would say the same,” you agreed.

She sighed happily next to you and returned to looking into the party.

“You know who I never thought I’d find myself caring for?”

You stuffed your mouth with a hunk of cheese on a cracker to the point where you could barely get out the word, “Me?”

Shadowheart looked at you and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, desperate people… like these refugees. Never gave them much of a thought. Certainly not this bunch from the Grove. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.”

You nudged her with your shoulder. “I hate to say it Shadowheart, but you’re a good person. Though given your sentimentality, it sounds like the wine is talking,” you teased.

“It’s not talking enough for my liking.” She turned and grabbed the bottle you’d seen her pouring from moments ago. “Share a bottle with me?” 

You looked at her skeptically. “Just a bottle? You’re not trying to poison me for disobeying you earlier, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just a bottle of poison free wine. You’ve suffered enough. Besides, I think you have other plans afterwards. Wouldn’t want to keep you.” She kicked her foot out towards Astarion’s tent which was now vacant, minus Doni slinking away with a hairbrush.

Before you could give her an answer, she was filling your goblet to the brim, despite the fact that you hadn’t finished the wine that was already there. She poured the rest into her own goblet, shaking the bottle to get out the last few drops.

“There,” she said. “Liquid courage.”

She tapped the brim of her goblet against yours and took a long sip. You joined her. Mixing the two wines hadn’t been a bad idea after all. There was a pleasant fruity aftertaste that you enjoyed. You went back in for another sip. 

She watched you as you drank. “Do try to get some rest tonight if you can. Tomorrow’s another day.”

“Yes, mom.”

She smacked your arm. “How dare you! I’m nobody’s mother.” She took another swig of her wine just as Lae’zel approached with her greatsword. 

“Are you aware that the child thieves are taking our belongings from camp?”

Shadowheart choked a little. “Excuse me?” She patted herself down and was relieved when her hand made contact with the artifact still on her person. She didn’t dare pull it out in front of everyone and instead looked at you.

“Oh, that,” you said smiling. “I told them they could.”

“And why would you tell them that?” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” you sat up straighter. “I told them they could only take from Astarion.”

Shadowheart snorted. “What?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be funny if the rogue got robbed by a bunch of kids.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “He is failing miserably at what he claims to be very good at.” She eased her stance and loosened her grip on her greatsword.

You laughed. “I think it’s partially Karlach’s fault. She suggested they both get drunk.”

“That’ll do it,” Shadowheart nodded, taking another sip of wine. 

“Hang on, Lae’zel, were you planning on attacking the kids?” You pointed at her sword.

Lae’zel eyed the weapon, then looked at you. “All children should know how to defend themselves from enemy attacks. I had already killed two of my cousins by the time I was their age.”

You nodded slowly. “Killing isn’t as much of a priority when you’re a kid here.”

“You make that blatantly obvious everyday with your oafish battle stance and shoddy swordsmanship.”

You scoffed and Shadowheart laughed. “I’m a lot better at fighting now, thanks,” you smiled at her, not actually offended. You knew she’d been raised on an entirely different plane, and who were you to judge their customs? At this point in your adventure, you knew not to take her harsh words personally. Even though she was usually right.

Lae’zel looked you up and down. “Perhaps so. I have seen the kith’raki tear a screaming neogi’s legs from its belly to fashion into blades.”

“Ew,” Shadowheart scowled. 

Lae’zel kept her eyes trained on you. “Yet, they could not match your nerve at the goblin camp. It was enough to drive me to madness.”

“Oh,” you said, a bit taken aback. “Thanks?”

“I smell their blood on you still. I smell your sweat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh gods, I thought I washed that all off-”

Shadowheart set a hand on your shoulder and shook her head. You turned your focus back on Lae’zel. 

“I meant to taste that sweat. Pity for us you’ve already promised your body to Astarion.” She crossed her arms, annoyed.

“Ah,” you nodded, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” 

“Chk,” Laezel rolled her eyes. “It is your loss. Come morning you will wonder. You will wonder how my lips might have tasted. How my fingers on your skin might have felt.”

You looked down at the ground, feeling guilty for not picking up on her intentions sooner. Shadowheart laid a comforting hand on your back.

“Enough, Lae’zel,” she said. “She was bound to make a choice sooner or later. Let’s respect her decision.”

“And what a foolish decision it was. Astarion can’t even handle a few children. I would skewer them the moment they touched one of my belongings.” She thrusted her greatsword forward as if to demonstrate. 

You swallowed. “Then let’s be glad they aren’t after your belongings.” 

Lae’zel looked down her nose at you. “Let us hope that continues.” 

“Hope what continues?” Astarion approached the three of you and grabbed another bottle of wine, not bothering to pour it into his goblet and instead opting to drink directly from the source.

You shook your head, feigning annoyance. “Are you following me?”

“Darling,” he purred, sidling up next to you, “didn’t I tell you last night that I wasn’t going to leave you alone anymore, especially after we-”

Lae’zel groaned loudly. “I’m going to keep a vigilant watch for any of those whelps stepping out of line.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her tent, but not before intimidating a few unfortunate tieflings milling about nearby. 

Astarion took another swig from his bottle and winced, not enjoying the taste. “What’s with her? Apart from her usual Lae’zel…ness?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, sipping your own wine and feeling warmth spread through your chest.

Shadowheart leaned over to look at the vampire. “Enjoying yourself, Astarion?”

Astarion did a double take, apparently having not noticed her when he first walked up. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you protectively.

“Ooohh no,” he said, “you’re not sending me out on another long errand to keep me away from her.” He sounded whiney, likely from the buzz he was still nursing with the wine.

You and Shadowheart laughed.

“It’s okay, dearest,” you teased, poking his nose. “We’ve made peace with Shadowheart.”

Astarion looked from you to Shadowheart skeptically. “No more errands?”

Shadowheart smirked. “Don’t dally again and we won’t have to find out, will we?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Astarion, who pulled away from you and continued to drink from his bottle. “I suppose that’s fair. But to answer your question, yes, surprisingly I’m having a delightful time.”

You scrunched your nose. “What happened to hating all the attention and the bad wine?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Must you always question the details, darling?”

You laughed. “Yes, evidently I must.”

Astarion waved his hand in the air, ignoring your answer and continuing to address Shadowheart. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to really let loose at a soiree such as this without being told what to do or hunting for something.” He wrapped you in his arms again. “Not when I already have my prey for the evening right here.”

Your eyes widened at Shadowheart and you avoided eye contact with her, flustered.

“Astarion,” you muttered as he kissed your shoulder from behind.

Surprisingly, when you looked back at her, Shadowheart had a small smile on her face.  

She addressed you when she spoke. “Seems like you’ve really captured this one under your spell.” She nodded her head towards Astarion who had his nose pressed against your neck. 

He pulled back and looked shocked. “Is that what this is? Have you cursed me? Vile witch!” He smiled at you like a dope. He snapped his fingers at Shadowheart. “Remove this curse, cleric!”

Shadowheart grabbed his hand and set it back at his side. “What you’re not going to do is snap at me as if I were a dog.” She looked at you. “Who knew liquor would make him even more insufferable?”

“We should have accounted for this,” you agreed. 

“I am right here,” Astarion pouted.

You reached for one of his hands wrapped around you and squeezed it. “We know, dummy.”

His slightly unfocused eyes went gooey. He looked at Shadowheart. “You know, Shadowheart, we were each others’ firsts.”

You went rigid under his touch and Shadowheart inhaled her wine by accident, coughing briefly.

“That can’t be true,” she said looking between the two of you.

“Astarion,” you elbowed him.

Astarion scowled. “Oh, perish the thought, she was the first thinking creature I ever drank from.”

Shadowheart nodded slowly. “Congratulations?” She looked at you. “You didn’t drink… his blood too, did you?”

You shook your head and Astarion laughed. 

“No dear, I took her virginity.”

You elbowed Astarion with a good amount of force. 

“I will kill you,” you muttered exasperatedly.

“You will not,” he wheezed.

“I will not,” you sighed, looking up at Shadowheart, whose eyes had gone wide. 

Her expression morphed from one of shock to one of anger. She stood and walked over to Astarion. Her hand glowed with the makings of a guiding bolt. You stood quickly and stepped in front of Astarion, shielding him.

“Shadowheart!” you exclaimed. “It’s alright!”

“He’s a vampiric freak,” she said loudly, drawing the attention of a few party goers. “He’s using you for your blood and your innocence!”

Astarion scoffed and stood, stepping to the side, rendering your body shield useless. 

“How dare you,” he said, stomping his foot. “While, yes, that does sound like me, and was my intention originally,” Shadowheart raised her glowing hand and you held up your arms to stop her, “I did not make passionate love to her for no reason!”

You brought your hands to your face and ran them down your features slowly. This was mortifying.

“Can we keep it down?” you asked quietly.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes and dropped the prepped guiding bolt. She crossed her arms and looked at Astarion expectantly. “And what was the reason?”

He groaned dramatically. “Gods, I only brought it up as a joke for a laugh, do we have to keep it up?”

“Astarion,” both you and Shadowheart warned.

“Fine,” he avoided looking at you. “I like her, alright? More than like her, she’s- well, I don’t know what she is.” He took your hand in both of his own. “But isn’t it nice not to know?”

You looked at each other for a moment, his face soft, but a little concerned. You smiled and brought the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss.

“So you didn’t bed her for the sake of gaining power from her virginity or something?”

That snapped Astarion out of his focus on you. “What? No, of course not! I’m a spawn anyway, so even if I wanted to I couldn’t.” He smiled at you. “But I didn’t want to!” He added quickly. 

“Nice save,” you teased, ruffling his hair, then thinking better of it and moving it back into place. “Let’s keep our sex lives to ourselves from now on, okay?”

“Gods below, if I’d known she’d react like that-” Astarion looked up at Shadowheart who was crossing her arms and looking at him as if daring him to finish the sentence. He cleared his throat. “Noted.”

Shadowheart shook her head and rolled her eyes before perching on the refreshments table once again.

“If he hurts you, I’m going to kill him and not revive him. And I’ll pay Withers for him to stay dead.”

You patted her shoulder. “I know. Thank you.”

Astarion leaned over to look at her. “To be clear, I don’t plan on hurting her.”

Shadowheart changed the subject. “What were you looking for over there?” She nodded her head towards Astarion’s tent. 

“Hmm?” he looked confused as to what she was referring to, then caught on and perched on the refreshment table again beside you. “Oh, just a little something for our beautiful bard here.” He started playing with the ends of your hair.

Shadowheart returned to her wine. “Couldn’t find it?”

“You know, it’s the strangest thing, I’ve been misplacing things all evening. Must be because of this delicious buzz I’ve got.” Astarion remembered the bottle he’d set down mere moments ago and returned to it.

Shadowheart lifted her eyebrows at you over her goblet. “Strange,” she said with an air of “We know exactly what’s happening and Astarion doesn't.”

You sighed, thinking he’d suffered enough at the hands of the kids. You took his free hand and hauled him up from the table. 

He eyed you curiously but made sure to take the wine bottle up with him. “What is it, darling?”

“Come on,” you started leading him towards the temple. 

“Oh ho,” he chuckled, stumbling a bit behind you, “wanted to get me alone, did you?” He sped up a little and gently bit the tip of your ear. 

You gasped at the sensation and he pulled back to smirk at you. You blinked and shook your head. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to ravish me in there,” you nodded ahead to the temple. 

Astarion caught you by the waist and lifted you a little, forcing you to stop moving. You yelped and he pulled you back so that he could whisper in your ear. “I can take you wherever I damn well please,” he growled. 

You shivered as he set you back down. “As sexy as you are, my love, you’ll see what I mean momentarily.”

You grabbed his hand again and led him across the log bridge and into the temple.

Only to find it empty.

Your stomach dropped. Uh oh.

Astarion sighed. “I don’t see what the problem is, dear.”

He took advantage of his grip on your hand and pulled you back to him, then spun you around so that your back was against the damp stone wall of the now truly abandoned temple. 

His knee came between your legs and he pinned your hands above your head. 

You were too shocked to say anything.

He grinned, and leaned into your ear again. “I could take you right here and right now,” he bent to kiss your throat and moved his thigh to rub deliciously against you. When you let out a small noise of satisfaction, he pulled back to look at you, his voice low, “If that’s what you want.” 

“Astarion,” you whined, closing your eyes and rolling your hips. 

“Yes, sweet girl?” he smirked at the pathetic look on your face.

“Kids, Astarion,” you exhaled shakily as he adjusted his thigh to give you a better angle. 

He paused. “Kids?” Then he chuckled. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, darling.”

You opened your eyes and gave him a confused look. 

He gave you an equally confused look. “I’m dead,” he said slowly, “I don’t think it’s possible?” He raked his eyes over your body and rested on your stomach. “Is it?”

You gently whacked the side of his head. “No, idiot, I’m talking about the tiefling kids.”

“Oh!” Astarion let out a relieved laugh. “What about them? You didn’t lose our entire camp over a game of hopscotch, did you?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed off the wall, looking around for any sign of the kids. It was dark and you couldn’t make out a thing. You groaned loudly up at the ceiling and ran your hands down your face. 

“I shouldn’t have trusted them…” you muttered.

“What did you do?” Astarion asked, sounding prematurely annoyed. 

You ignored him and opted to march out of the temple and up the log back into camp. 

A small laugh rang out from behind Gale’s vacant tent a ways off.

It sounded distinctly childish. 

You huffed some hair out of your face and marched up to Volo who was near Wyll’s tent, still writing in his journal. 

He lit up as you approached. “Aha! There you are! Come now, settle in. I do hope you have partaken in something bracing? This may well take up all night.”

You grabbed him by the arm. “No time.”

He protested as you dragged him towards the edge of camp. “I say! Unhand me! I’d hate to see your name slandered in an upcoming tale of your heroic escapades!” 

You ignored him and spun him to face you. “How loud can you whistle?”

Volo puffed his chest proudly. “I’m surprised you have to ask, given my accompaniment to your performance earlier this evening.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “As loud and as lively as necessary.”

“Great. I’m going to need one sharp, loud whistle on my say so.”

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Ah, drawing attention, are we? Giving a rousing speech? Toasting to your fine accomplishments?”

“Neither.” You cupped your hands up to your mouth. “MOL AND COMPANY.”

The party grew silent.

Volo tilted his head. “Oh. Interesting choice of audience. But, children are the future-”

You elbowed him. “Do it now.”

“Right.” As instructed, Volo lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew harshly, emitting a loud, high pitched whistle.

You saw heads turn to you, as well as the figures of the kids clamoring to look at you from behind Gale’s tent.

“TO ME,” you called firmly, making eye contact with Mol and motioning for her and the others to come to you. 

As the children filed towards you, Volo shrunk back. “Do you need-”

“You can go.” 

“Thank heavens. Good evening.” He tipped his hat to you, then scurried off back to his post by Wyll’s tent. 

Mol came to a stop in front of you, crossing her arms and scowling at you. “What do you want now?”

You looked down at all eight of the hired thieves. Most avoided eye contact but Mol and Arabella, who smiled at you. You crossed your arms.

“It’s time to go over your spoils.”

“What, in front of him?” Meli asked, pointing behind you at Astarion, who lingered behind you looking rather in awe of what was occuring. 

“It’s been long enough,” you confirmed. “You all did very well and I’m very pleased with your efforts.”

You watched as the kids grew smug and shared excited looks with each other. 

Mattis spoke up. “What do we get in return for doing so good?”

“So well,” Astarion corrected.

“Didn’t ask you, did I mate?” Mattis snarled. 

Astarion flashed his fangs in retaliation and Mattis shut his mouth.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Well let’s see what you gathered, huh? Then we can determine.”

Mol clicked her tongue. “I already told ya’s, we have her support when we get to the Gate.”

“Lame!” Zaki exclaimed. “We should get some kind of physical prize or something.”

Doni made a noise of agreement. 

Mirkon shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s nice that we have the support of the hero of the Grove to help us.”

Arabella smirked. “I kind of want to see what else she has to offer.”

You did your best to stay stoic in front of them all, but you were too endeared by their curiosity and felt a smile tugging at your lips.

“Alright cretins,” you teased loudly, “show me where you buried the loot.”

Silfy giggled. “We didn’t bury it, silly!”

“Silfy,” Mattis hissed.

She grew quiet. “Sorry.”

“Be nice,” you warned, resting your hands on your hips. You took a deep breath, thinking about how to proceed. “Alright, first one to show me where you hid the loot gets their prize first.”

“Prize?!” Zaki gasped and Meli was already running across camp.

The other seven raced off after him.

You sighed fondly, choosing to walk after them at a leisurely pace.

Astarion caught up and strolled beside you. “Am I to understand that you had the urchins steal my belongings this evening?”

You clasped your hands behind your back and looked straight ahead. “Perhaps.”

Astarion chuckled. “I’d kill you if I didn’t desperately want to kiss you right now. Seeing your command over those children was really something.”

You cleared your throat. “Later. We need to get your stuff back first.”

He nodded, his brows furrowing. “You seem to like kids. Not just those brats.”

“I do,” you smiled. “They can be the best audience. Plus they’re hilarious in their own ways without even trying most of the time.”

Astarion nodded. “A collective of child criminals is rather funny from an objective point of view.”

“They’re pretty good, too,” you bumped his hip. “Got past our master rogue all evening.”

Astarion tsked. “I blame the wine, darling.”

���I think you’re getting sloppy.”

“Would you STOP FLIRTING and GET OVER HERE?” Mattis yelled from the boats near Withers.

Arabella leaned against the boat closest to the living corpse. “Bone Man here said we could hide our stuff in the boats.”

“Withers!” you exclaimed with no actual anger in the cry. 

“I did no such thing,” he denied, as stoic as ever. 

“Uh huh,” you said, then leaned in conspiratorially to the kids. “He hides our stuff all the time.”

The kids snickered, looking from you to Withers.

“I do not,” he said, his tone holding the same inflection as always. “I hast no need of thine earthly possessions.”

You clicked your tongue. “And yet you require compensation from us whenever we need something from you. Where’s the money going, Withers?”

Silfy giggled.

Withers didn’t budge.

You turned back to the kids. “He absolutely hides our stuff.” 

They snickered again. 

You moved closer to the boat to peer inside. Doni stepped in front of you, blocking your view.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, taking a step back, “who wants to show me what they took first.”

“So you really are going to reward them for this behavior?” Astarion crossed his arms and you ignored him. 

“I got here first,” Meli said, stepping forward with his hands behind his back, “just so we’re clear.”

“You did not,” Zaki protested, “Doni got here before any of us.”

“Doni doesn’t count! He’s the best sneak of all of us!”

“He does count and that’s why he won!”

“Quiet, you two,” Mol said with a bit of an edge to her tone. “Doni did win fair and square.”

“Told you!” Zaki stuck out his tongue.

Meli rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He stepped forward and addressed you. “May I present…” he pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing Astarion’s wine goblet from earlier.

“You little whelp,” Astarion hissed but you held up a hand to silence him.

Meli smirked at the vampire. “You’ll notice,” he tipped the goblet forward so you could look inside, “not a drop wasted.”

Sure enough, the goblet still contained a hefty portion of deep red liquid. 

You applauded his effort and a few of the other kids joined in. “Well done, Meli. But, uh, you didn’t drink any, did you?”

Meli scowled. “Yuck, no thanks. I don’t know why adults like this stuff.”

Astarion bent forward. “I’ll be taking that,” he swiped the goblet back, “thank you.” He took a long, deep sip, then wiped a drop that rolled down the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Who’s next?” you asked.

Silfy reached into the boat and pulled out a small brooch, covered in rubies and emeralds. “I got this from his tent.”

You got down on your knees in front of her again. “Oh Silfy!” you said, in awe of the craftsmanship. “This is lovely! Good job.” You turned to show Astarion.

He looked uninterested. “That was my mother’s.”

You stiffened briefly, then relaxed. “No, it wasn’t.”

He snorted. “Of course it wasn’t. I swiped it off some dead-” You made a face at him and nodded towards the kids, reminding him that young ears were listening, “-teddy… bear?”

“People die,” Mattis said flatly. “We’re not idiots.”

“I’m missing a gods damn eye,” Mol pointed to the bandage around her head.

You sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even trying, you guys are way too smart.” You turned and handed the brooch back to Astarion who pocketed it without question. 

“The smartest,” Mol grinned, looking around at the other seven.

Mirkon stepped forward. “Me next!” he reached into the boat and pulled something out, concealing it behind his back. He looked very pleased with himself when he revealed a set of thieves' tools. 

Astarion laughed once, humorlessly. “I have a million of those.”

Mirkon smirked. “Yes, but only one on your person.”

Astarion’s face fell and he patted himself down. His mouth raised into the smallest smile. “Not bad.” 

Mirkon tried to look cool, but he burst into a grin and stepped back to rejoin the others. You handed the tools to Astarion who hid them on his person once again and took another sip of his wine.

Zaki reached into the boat. “Here’s what I got.” He held out an unmarked tin but one that you recognized as one of Astarion’s beloved hair products.

Astarion spat a bit of his wine. “Give that here,” he held out his hand and Zaki clutched the tin closer to his chest. 

“Why should I?”

“Um, Zaki?” You made eye contact with him and shook your head. 

Zaki sighed and handed it over to Astarion reluctantly. “Tasted terrible anyway.”

You laughed and Astarion sputtered. “This is NOT to be ingested, you twerp.”

“Weirdo man!” Zaki exclaimed in response.

“Oof,” you turned to Astarion, “that’s gotta hurt.”

The kids laughed. Astarion narrowed his eyes. 

He examined the contents of the tin to see how much was left. When he saw that not much had been sacrificed, he sighed in relief. “This is a fine hair product from a particular salon in the Upper City that I was able to snatch while on the road. I only have the one container, if you must know.”

You turned back to Zaki. “Well done,” you clapped for him. “It’s like you stole his baby.”

Zaki blushed and smiled before Doni stepped forward.

He made a small noise and held out a hairbrush. 

Astarion gasped and snatched it from Doni quickly. “This was actually on my person during the Nautiloid crash.” He held it close to his chest. “I had it hidden away, how’d you find it?”

Doni responded with another unintelligible noise.

Astarion looked at the other kids.

Arabella shrugged. “We try not to question his methods.”

You patted Doni’s arm. “Great job, Doni.”

He smiled and Arabella took his place. 

She held out a small coin purse. “Tah dah!”

Astarion bent forward to examine it closer. “Sorry darling, that’s not mine.”

Arabella smiled. “I know.” She loosened the string to the purse and emptied the contents into her hand. A substantial amount of coins fell into her palm. “But these are.”

Astarion gasped and felt around his person again. You and Mol laughed at the look on his face. “Har har, I’d like those back now, please.”

Arabella handed the coins back a little too eagerly.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “All of it.”

Arabella’s shoulders slumped and she reached into the pocket of her skirt, handing him another handful of gold. 

“Work on your poker face, darling.” 

Arabella pursed her lips but nodded. 

“Mattis,” Mol said, motioning for him to step forward. 

Mattis nodded and looked between you and Astarion with a smirk. 

He extended his arms, revealing a dagger in each hand. “Whoa,” you said cautiously, motioning for the other kids to step away. 

Astarion laughed. “Be careful with those, kid.” He knelt next to you, looking Mattis in the eye. He elbowed the tiefling gently in the ribs, but it was enough to shock him into loosening his grip. Astarion caught one of the daggers and expertly grabbed the other one by the hilt and yanked it from Mattis’ hand. 

Before Mattis could even register what happened, Astarion was back on his feet, sheathing the daggers through his belt.

You looked at him with a shocked expression. He raised an eyebrow.

“What? Oh please, I didn’t hurt the child, and now he’s no longer armed. You’re welcome.”

You turned to Mattis. “You okay, Mattis?”

Mattis rubbed his chest and nodded. He looked up at Astarion in awe. “You have got to teach me that.”

The other kids agreed and crowded the vampire. 

He laughed uncomfortably. “There are… so many of you.” He looked to you for help.

“Alright guys, let’s give floofy hair some space.”

“Floofy?” Astarion brought a hand up to his hair as the kids dispersed. 

Mol stretched her arms over her head. “Best for last, I suppose.”

She went to reach into the boat for what you had to assume was the lute Astarion had hidden away for you. What she pulled out made you audibly gasp.

You’d expected something tattered, nothing special. Something plucked from the road by someone who didn’t understand the intricacies and nuances of musical instruments, but you knew you’d be content to make due with it because someone you deeply cared for had taken the time to pick it up and take it home to you.

Instead Mol presented you with a lute that looked like it hadn’t even been played yet. It was crafted from rosewood, giving it a pinkish hue and its surface shined as if it were just polished. Delicate roses were carved into the face and the strings were coiled tightly along the neck. 

“Oh,” you breathed out.

Mol raised an eyebrow. “Okay there, hero?”

You shook your head to break the spell. “I- yes.”

Mol turned to Astarion. “And what does this one mean to you? You had it stowed away so carefully with all those pillows and rags. Must be pretty special.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “It’s um… a gift.”

Mirkon giggled. “For who?”

Arabella crossed her arms. “It’s a lute. Clearly it’s for the bard.” She gestured to you with a nod of her head. 

Mattis blew out an unimpressed breath. “I saw her already carrying one around the Grove. Some gift.”

“So what?” Mirkon argued. “I think it’s nice.”

“So do I,” you confirmed, looking at Astarion, who caught your eye then turned away sheepishly. You turned back to the kids. “Want to know something funny?”

The kids looked intrigued and nodded, a few of them giving “yeah’s.”

You leaned in to whisper loudly and placed a hand next to your mouth as if telling a secret. “He broke my other lute,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder at Astarion.

He scoffed. “I did not!”

You tilted your head at him disapprovingly. “It’s your fault it broke.”

“I-” he tried to dispute you, but came up short and shut his mouth.

Mol laughed. “No wonder she wanted us to swipe your stuff. Although, seems kinda pointless now.” She handed you the lute.

It was a comfortable weight in your hands and you tested the sound. It would need a bit of tuning, but it was good enough for you to cast a minor illusion of fireworks around the kids, who all looked up in awe. You flipped the face of it up towards you and ran your fingers over one of the rose etchings. 

You turned to Astarion who was avoiding eye contact by drawing shapes in the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “Where did you find this?”

He looked at you and perked up, gaining an air of confidence that you usually saw when he was showing off in battle. “Found it on the Risen Road. Some poor soul perished with it hidden away in their belongings under a bunch of useless junk.” He examined his nails, feigning disinterest. “It was from the same horde where I found my hair product. I suspect some Upper City patriar accidentally stumbled into a pack of hungry gnolls on their way back to Baldur’s Gate. One can only imagine why they were all the way out here. But their loss was our gain.” He laughed airily. 

You stood and held your breath. “You’ve held onto this for that long?” 

Astarion deflated a little, caught. “I… may have been saving it for a special occasion.” He saw you move towards him. “Don’t be weird about this,” he warned, holding up a finger. “If you really annoyed me I was planning to give it to you and then destroy it. The look on your face would have been priceless.” He laughed again.

You ignored his deflection and took one of his hands in your own. “You’ve had this since before we-” you paused. “Since before last night.”

Astarion smiled softly. “I told you I liked you.” He looked away again when he asked, “But you like it?”

You bent forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s gorgeous. I love it. Thank you.”

“Gross,” Mattis moaned. “Can we just get our prizes now?”

You turned away from Astarion to face the kids again. “Right.” You clapped your hands together. “GALE!” You shouted, not bothering to turn your body in his direction, knowing he’d hear you anyway. 

Not even a second later, he misty stepped beside you. “Yes?” he asked. “How can I help?”

“Gale,” you said, your tone implying that you needed him to play along, “the kids did a great job of stealing from Astarion tonight.”

Gale furrowed his brow in confusion, but sensed the kind of answer you wanted. “Oh, that is most excellent news.”

You nodded and placed your hands on your hips. “I think we need to discuss their reward.”

“Absolutely,” Gale agreed. He motioned over to a patch of grass a little ways away, “Shall we?”

“Be right back,” you said. 

As you and Gale walked, you heard the kids talking to Astarion.

“So why do you have fangs? You some kind of demon?”

“My father was a bat.”

“Cool, can you fly?”

“No.”

Gale spun on his heel to face you. “So,” he started, “what’s going on?”

“Fair question. I wanted the kids to rob Astarion.”

“Sure,” Gale nodded. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Thought it would be funny. Didn’t think that far ahead.”

Gale nodded again. “Let me guess, you didn’t want them to actually keep the loot and now you need to satiate their desire for spoils of some kind.”

“You got it,” you confirmed.

He held a finger to his chin, lost in thought for a moment. “Alright. Play along.”

“Can do,” you said and followed after Gale back towards the kids.

“Why would I need echolocation if I’m not blind?” Astarion asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know!” Zaki shouted in the same tone. “You’re the one who’s half bat!”

“Tell me you can screech at least?” Meli asked.

Gale cleared his throat and the kids turned to face you.

“I don’t see no prizes,” Mol said, crossing her arms.

“An astute observation, Mol,” Gale agreed. “That’s because I’m going to summon your prizes from the Astral Plane.” Gale raised his eyebrows at you, talking out of his ass.

“Ooohhh,” you gushed, making what he said seem really impressive. 

“You’ve been to the Astral Plane?” Mirkon asked excitedly.

“Of course,” Gale lied.

Arabella cut in. “How do we know you’ve actually been?”

Gale chuckled. “How do you think we met our Githyanki friend?” He pointed to Lae’zel over his shoulder who was in the process of skewering watermelons with her greatsword as a few others watched.

The kids looked back at Gale, seeming to accept his reasoning.

Astarion rolled his eyes.

Gale rubbed his hands together, his fingers sparking with the purple glow of the weave. Something you suspected he was doing to try to further impress and convince the children.

“Who’s first?” he asked.

Meli was about to step forward, but Arabella stopped him.

“Doni got here first, he gets his prize first.”

Meli groaned. “I’m next, then.”

Gale smiled at the boy before him. “Well Doni, it’s Githyanki tradition that their most skilled warriors receive Crowns of Valor.”

You placed a hand on your heart, further playing along. “Gale! You can’t mean-”

“Oh, that’s right,” Gale nodded. “These young, intrepid adventurers deserve the highest of honors.”

You looked at the kids and raised your eyebrows. “That’s amazing!”

The kids shared excited glances and giggles as Astarion leaned in to you.

“To be clear,” he whispered, “Crowns of Valor don’t exist, right?”

“Correct,” you said through an unmoving smile. 

“And I knew that,” Astarion said unconvincingly.

Gale spun his hands through the air, the purple glow of the weave glowing brighter and brighter until a small, Doni sized crown appeared in Gale’s hands. It was of simple construction, made of tin with pointed peaks at the top, like the paper crowns you would make as a child. Then, Gale moved his hands some more and the crown molded itself into something similar to Lae’zel’s armor that you’d first met her in; polished silver with delicately raised patterns throughout, adorned with shining red jewels. 

“Whoa,” you said, genuinely impressed. 

Gale smirked and lifted the crown above Doni’s head. “I now bestow unto you the Githyanki Crown of Valor. Well done, lad.” He placed the crown on Doni’s head, who smiled widely and stepped back for the other kids to observe. 

They ooh’d and ah’d, a few even reaching to touch it, but Doni brought his hands up to the crown to keep it on his head.

Meli excitedly jumped forward. “Me next!”

One by one, the kids stepped up to receive their incredibly real and not conjured on the spot Crowns of Valor from Gale. 

“Thank you for the lute,” you said quietly to Astarion as the two of you watched the parade of children marching up to the wizard.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “I’m not sure you even deserve to keep it, given that you hired a bunch of children to steal it for you.”

You sighed loudly. “Just admit you were bested tonight and move on. I won’t think any less of you for it.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t use this one as a club.”

“No promises,” you lifted the lute to mime hitting another imaginary bugbear. 

When Mol received her crown, the last of the kids to do so, Gale stood.

“Oof, the knees,” he muttered before rubbing his hands together to convey that his work here was finished. “Well then! I believe everyone has been thoroughly rewarded for their hard work.” He looked at you and winked. You mouthed a thank you.

Mol took off her crown and inspected it. “Hypothetically, how much could a Githyanki Crown of Valor sell for?”

You and Gale gasped dramatically.

“Why would you want to do that?” you asked, scandalized.

Mol rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Just tell us how much coin we’d get.”

Gale thought for a moment. “Hypothetically, if it were to be appraised, maybe about-” You elbowed him. “-a lot. Despite the absolutely priceless nature of the objects, you’d probably get a lot of coin.” He sounded pained to be saying such things.

“Excellent.” Mol said, examining her crown and then placing it back on her head. “Now,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “do you need anything else from us? Or can we go? There are drunk adults to swindle.”

“Charming,” Astarion said flatly. 

You straightened. “Yes, you’ve all done an excellent job tonight and are free to go.” 

As the kids were about to leave, you stepped in front of them, blocking their path. 

“No more stealing tonight-” you said and a few of them groaned, “-but it’s fair game again when we see you next. Which will be in Baldur’s Gate when you’re members of a highly respected new guild.” You smiled at Mol who looked at you smugly and nodded. 

“Damn right!” she said proudly. 

The others buzzed with agreement and started dispersing after saying their goodbyes. You hugged Silfy, Arabella, and Mirkon, and waved to the others who promised they’d be careful on their journey to the city. 

You stood back and watched them go, flanked on either side by Astarion and Gale. 

Astarion examined his nails. “Those weren’t worth anything, were they?”

Gale shook his head. “Not unless transmuted tin suddenly gains a lot of value amongst merchants and traders. I’ve been gathering different alchemical items and ingredients all throughout our journey, and that tin that I used was actually from-”

“Ugh, stop talking,” Astarion interrupted. “I merely asked if they were worth anything in case I needed to nick one of them off one of the little roaches before they leave and we never see them again.”

“Astarion,” you whacked his arm lightly. “They’re just kids. And I’m sure we’ll see them again.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he sighed.

“You could also just ask Gale to make you one if you want.”

“I’d be happy to-”

Astarion held up a hand. “And ruin this hair? I don’t think so.”

You looped your arm through his and watched as a few of the kids retreated into their makeshift headquarters for the evening, while a few others made a point of walking by Lae’zel’s tent first. It was clear they were trying to show off in front of her, but Lae’zel paid them no mind and focused instead on cleaning her greatsword of watermelon chunks. After a moment of them pacing back and forth in front of her, she leered at them and the kids quickly ran back to the temple, terrified she might stab them. Scratch and the owlbear cub chased after them.

You turned to Gale. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. I owe you one.”

Gale smirked. “Is it really a party if one isn’t rescuing their friend from the clutches of their own antics?”

Astarion snorted. “What kind of parties have you attended?”

“Well, I thank you for your quick thinking and skill with the weave.”

Gale puffed his chest. “I am rather excellent at magic, as I’ve said many times over. Though I fear what will happen once those miscreants try to pawn off those fraudulent crowns.”

You shrugged. “That’s a problem for future us.”

Astarion tsked. “Assuming they can catch us.”

You and Gale laughed. 

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Gale agreed. “I’ll leave you two to your evening. Let me know if you find yourself in any more trouble.” He nodded his head to you. “Good night.”

“Good night Gale,” you smiled as he walked back towards the excitement of the party where Karlach and Rolan were partaking in a loud drinking contest.

Astarion pulled you closer to him and squeezed your hip. “I still can’t believe you did that. After everything I’ve done for you.”

You smiled at him. “Ah yes, thank you for deciding not to kill me every day since you’ve met me.”

He pulled you into a kiss. “You’re welcome,” he said, muffled against your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tasted of wine.

You pulled away and inclined your head towards Withers, still standing stoically nearby.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m not even entirely sure he’s paying attention half the time, what with his distant stare and lack of meaningful conversation.”

“He called you my ‘bosom companion’ earlier.”

“He did what?” Astarion looked past you at the skeleton who made no move to acknowledge either of you. “I’ve barely had any time with her bosom yet, thank you.”

When Withers didn’t respond, you laughed and bent down to get a better grasp on your new lute. Astarion joined you, picking up his recently returned items and turning to face you. 

“Care to join me on a walk?” he asked.

You smirked. “This isn’t part of another plan to bed me, is it?”

Astarion laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He made his voice low and gravelly.

Your face went red. “Aren’t you drunk?” you asked, deflecting his advances as the two of you started making your way towards Astarion’s tent.

“Ah, ah,” Astarion tutted, “I was only ever tipsy. And to be honest, I believe the last of it burned off when the one person I stupidly trust most for some reason, betrayed my trust and stole my things.”

“We got them back!” you argued. 

“Hmm,” Astarion hummed. “Perhaps we should break up.”

You gasped loudly. “How dare you!”

He smirked. “I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Am I going to regret asking what you have in mind?”

“I can think of a few options,” he said as you reached his tent and he knelt to return his items to their proper places. 

You yawned. “Oh yeah?”

Astarion rose back up and looked at you softly. “Tired, darling?” 

You mentally surveyed how you were feeling. “I suppose I am.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. “A side effect of playing hero for dozens of tieflings. Told you it wasn’t worth it.”

You rested your arms over his shoulders. “And it surely has nothing to do with my lack of sleep last night, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Astarion teased, kissing your forehead. “Go say your good nights.” He nodded towards the heart of the party where Karlach and Rolan were drunkenly singing an old dwarven drinking song. 

You looked at him curiously. “What about you?” 

“Trust me, my sweet, none of them are here to see me.” He tucked some hair behind your ear. “Even though I’m world-endingly beautiful.”

“I think you’ve mentioned that,” you teased. 

“They should count themselves lucky they even caught a glimpse.”

“Alright.”

“I mean, look at me.”

“I got it,” you laughed and pulled away from him, lifting your new lute one last time. “Will I see you later?”

Astarion furrowed his brow. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

You smiled shyly. “I don’t know, I’m still new at all of this.”

His expression grew soft. “As am I. We’ll get the hang of it.” His voice became flamboyant again when he said, “We are the most impressive pair in Faerûn after all.” Then he laughed brightly.

You laughed and turned to make your way to your tent to drop off your lute. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I await on baited breath, my love.”

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (fair) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

[liminal-space-lesbian]

Bg3 Ladies needing comfort after a bad day

Request: So for the BG3 headcanon or blurb requests what about a little thingy where the Lady’s of the game have a bad day and need lots of comfort from their Tav. 🥺

A/n

Honestly idgaf if Lae’zel is ooc, my baby is secretly going soft. Sorry guys!! I believe she actually has feelings deep down <3 Also mild spoilers if you haven’t finished the Crèche questline

Also Karlach is so babygirl omg if someone doesn’t give her a hug rn I SWEARRRR

Karlach:

Karlach had spent the entire day fighting off various enemies, who were unfortunately harder to defeat than expected. And right as she’s settling down for the night, finally getting a reprieve from the day, Raphael shows up.

He’s yammering on about how he wants to strike up a deal with you, but you cannot send him away fast enough. Seeing a devil only dredges up bad memories for your lover, and you do not want her to have to relieve the memories of her torture in Avernus.

“Come here baby, it’s alright just try to relax.” You coax, seeing the tension in her body once Raphael leaves. You coo, gently taking her into your arms. Her head buried in your chest, strong arms wrapping around you tightly as you rub her shoulders and the back of her neck. You ease the tension out of her muscles, kissing the crown of her head.

She finally lets the tension leave her body as she breaks down into tears, quietly crying into the fabric of your shirt. Small sobs wrack her shoulders, sending an aching pain lancing through your heart. You can’t stand seeing her so upset.

“I fuckin’ hate demons. No good ever comes of ‘em. Promise me you’ll never even consider Raphael’s deal.” She pleads, and you’re quick to reassure her. “I promise, I’ll never make a deal with a devil. I love you too much to risk it.” You whisper into her hair as you place a gentle kiss on her temple.

You cuddle her to sleep, allowing her to wrap herself around you entirely. Lord knows a decade of not being able to touch anyone without scorching their skin off leaves a girl touch starved. You tuck her in as cozy as she can get, and pepper her face with gentle kisses as she drifts off. Your heart aches for the suffering your lover has endured, but all you can do is be here now to support her.

Shadowheart:

Shadowhearts wound on her hand had been flaring rather badly all day, and unfortunately you had to travel past an abandoned temple of Shar. All the memories- or lack thereof- cause Shadowheart’s mood to sour. She seems snappy and short tempered, but when you visit her tent later you see her curled into a ball and cradling her hand.

“Oh sweetheart.” You murmur, getting on your knees beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. She sniffles, obviously trying to hide her tears. You shush her, gently lying behind her and wrapping your arms around her. She rolls over and cuddles into your chest, crying more freely now.

“Why did they have to take my memories? Sometimes I don’t even feel like I know myself.” She whimpers, and your heart shatters. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry.” You whisper, kissing her forehead and wiping away her tears. “I know you, and I love you.” You murmur, rubbing your hand soothingly up and down her back as she tucks her head into your neck. You spend the evening wiping away her tears and soothing her as best as you can.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t get upset, she gets angry. It’s how she was raised, channel every feeling into anger. Anger fuels strength, and only created a stronger more tenacious fighter. So when Lae’zel finds out the truth about Vlaakith, she’s angry. Enraged. Furious. Not hurt.

Lae’zel definitely doesn’t cry when she’s alone in her tent that night. She also definitely doesn’t crawl into your arms and bury her face in your shoulder. Your touch is the only balm to the aching in her chest.

“Tsk’va, look at me. So weakened by the betrayal of a false god.” Lae’zel grits out between tears, fists clenched firmly in your shirt. Her anger is directed at herself, as if it’s her fault she was fooled along with every other Gith.

“Darling, it’s not your fault. Vlaakith tricked everyone. I know her betrayal hurts, and you have a right to be upset. Im so sorry you have to deal with something like this.” You coo, kissing her forehead and wiping her tears. She scowls and pulls away from your touch, but only to roll over so she can be little spoon.

She doesn’t speak for the rest of the night, but you feel a bit of tension melt away from her muscles. The next morning she’ll wake as if nothing happened, but for now she burrows farther into your warmth, seeking your comfort.

Dame Aylin:

Aylin’s mood took a turn for the worse when she heard Raphael had proposed a deal to you at Sharess Caress. She had already spent the day overstimulated from the noise of Baldurs Gate, a stark contrast to a century in shadowfell, where the only sound was the wind and rumbling in the distance. Now that you told her this? She was pissed.

She stomped off to be alone, saying she just needed time to think. You could tell by the stiffness of her posture she was upset, more than just angry. You gave her some space, but when she finally returned to your tent to go to sleep, you confronted her.

“What’s wrong darling?” You coax, your expression soft as you open your arms for her. She hesitates, her pride and stoicism holding her back for a moment. Her hesitation is short lived however, as she heaves a sigh and flops into your arms.

“I’m just thinking of my time spent in shadowfell. Raphael is a devil, simply a reminder of the evils in this world.” She pauses, heaving an irritated sigh. “After being trapped in that soul cage for so long… sometimes it feels as though I’m still there. Not physically but… in my mind that place haunts me.” She admits quietly, and you think you hear her voice quiver.

“I’m sorry Aylin. You didn’t deserve that. If I could take away all your pain I would.” You murmur, hugging her a bit tighter as you look in her eyes. You see tears clinging to her lashes as she swallows thickly.

“I know you would. And I love you for it.” She whispers brokenly, nuzzling her head into your shoulder as she clings to you. She pulls away to place a deep kiss on your lips, reveling in the comfort of you.

“Try and rest Aylin, you need sleep.” You coax, easing her to lie back. She complies, allowing herself to get comfortable as she slips off to sleep. For the first time in weeks she doesn’t have a single nightmare.

Isobel Thorm:

Isobel was drained after narrowly escaping being kidnapped by Marcus. She pumped all of her magical abilities into the shield around the Last Light Inn, as well as blessing you and your companions to ward off the shadow curse.

You could see her bottom lip quiver as she climbed into bed, and she instantly cuddled into your side. You turned towards her, gently cupping her face in your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask gently, and she simply shakes her head, blinking heavily as tears flow freely down her face. You brush the tears away with your thumbs, nodding as you kiss her forehead. You take her into your arms and let her cry it out.

You rub up and down her arms soothingly, allowing her the space to let out her feelings. Eventually her cries taper out, and soon enough she’s drifting off to sleep. You carefully make sure she’s tucked in perfectly before resuming your spot, cuddled up to her for the night.

A/n

If this is bad it’s bc I’ve been awake for 17 hours, sorry peeps 😔

[kirain]

So apparently we were supposed to get a hafling werewolf bard companion named Helia, but Larian axed her early in development. She would've been the only small race companion in the game, which I personally felt it was lacking. The closest we had was Barcus, but unfortunately he wasn't a full companion nor was he romancable. Plus, bards are hilarious. I imagine her dialogue would've been incredible.

We were robbed...

Though I don't want to be ungrateful. Larian did a lot and honestly spoiled us. I just really would've loved to have a hafling werewolf bard on the team. She sounds so interesting. So I made her myself. 😁

She and Karlach would be the best of friends. They'd get drunk every weekend, shoot the shit, sing campfire songs, and dare each other to do dangerously stupid challenges. They'd have a lot of fun and cause all sorts of trouble, as they should.

She'd be sarcastic and sassy like Astarion, but they probably wouldn't get along very well, since she's a halfing and a werewolf. He'd call her "mongrel", while she'd call him "tick". If he tried to bite her, she'd bite him back. The mockery would be vicious, but deep down they'd understand each other's struggles. Real enemies to friends potential.

Lae'zel she'd annoy—by constantly trying to make her laugh and calling her "sour puss". She'd also have no problem calling her out when her loyalty to Vlaakith clouds her judgement. Though she'd also admire her drive and resilience. Lae'zel would, in turn, teach her a few battle techniques, and eventually come to see the value in humour.

Gale she'd butt heads with, only because she's foul and he's so proper, but they'd both give as good as they get, knowing it's all harmless banter. After a whille, they'd learn to appreciate each other's company, and she'd even use some of his stories as inspiration for song lyrics.

As for Shadowheart, they'd get on surprisingly well, bonding over their pain and hatred for Selûne. That bond would only grow as they learn Selûne is actually worth worshipping, with Shadowheart becoming the goddess' devoted cleric and Helia becoming a proud member of her lycanthrope followers. Together, they'd give Shar a metaphorical and literal finger.

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Druid Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Jaheira or Halsin is the main speaker/subject or I think their reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Astarion_Jaheira_OskarsBeloved]

Astarion: Cazador always warned us to stay clear of this neighbourhood. Never said why, though.

Jaheira: The last spawn who tried was sunk into the cobblestones and left for the sun to find. I had an unfortunate taste for theatrics, in my youth. {Devnote: A little abashed, but shrugging it off}

Astarion: Ah. Yes, that was probably it.

[PB_Halsin_Jaheira_Park]

Halsin: Ah, a glimpse of nature. Like a sip of water to parched lips, eh, Jaheira? {Devnote: content}

Jaheira: Baldurians think all druids to be hay-haired idlers, Halsin. Perhaps we ought not speak of nature - but high art, or politics? {Devnote: ‘change the record, all these city folk think we’re hippies as it is’ A little tongue in cheek, she agrees with him entirely}

Halsin: I think on them also. But nothing matches the splendour of an ancient tree. {Devnote: Unfazed}

Jaheira: It is so. And, should one favour bear-form, that tree in particular makes for excellent back-scratching… {Devnote: Idle, teasing - offering a direct tip to Halsin under the guise of a hypothetical}

[PB_Shadowheart_Halsin_ROM_Act3]

Shadowheart: Halsin, if I were a druid, what animal do you think I’d be? {Devnote: Idle banter, either Loyal/Reject Shar arc}

Halsin: Given your memory issues, perhaps a goldfish? {Devnote: Gently teasing}

Shadowheart: I’d hoped for something a bit more exotic… but would you carry around my fish bowl, feed me flakes of food?

Halsin: Only the finest, of course.

[PB_Laezel_Halsin_Act3_ROM_001]

Lae’zel: You’ve quite the appetite, Halsin. I’d wager you’ve bedded more of your foes than you’ve felled.

Halsin: Hmm. A challenging sum. The chimera has three heads… but does it still count as one? {Devnote: Not offended, thinking back}

Lae’zel: Must have been a challenging kill.

Halsin: Kill… yes. {Devnote: ‘Yep, that’s definitely what I mean.’}

[PB_Halsin_Shadowheart_SteelWatchFoundry]

Halsin: The birthing ground of those steel monstrosities. I would feel little sorrow if this place should close forever. {Devnote: some disdain (in a factory making robo-sentries)}

Shadowheart: Oh come on, you have to be at least a little impressed by the craftsmanship. There's only so much you can do with wood. {Devnote: gentle poking}

Halsin: Not so, in my experience. There is little I cannot whittle.

Shadowheart: Did you do that on purpose...? {Devnote: half-amused groan}

[PB_Halsin_Gale_ROM_Act3]

Gale: Halsin, you must have accumulated considerable wisdom on matters of the heart in your long life.

Gale: Anything you'd like to pass on to a strapping, love-struck wizard such as myself?

Halsin: Dispensing advice on matters of the heart would be like swapping boots - what suits me may be a poor fit for you.

Gale: Ah. Well, there's no faulting that logic. At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'. {Devnote: Accepting the answer. Thinks 'be yourself' is naff advice}

Halsin: Oh no, perish the thought. That can be outright cruel advice to offer in certain cases.

[yangcherie]

i am obsessed with your writing. really. i would love to read your view on a shadowheart trying to win your heart when she realizes that the other companions also want you. be as fluff or smut as you want! (and of course you don't need to write anything you don't want, really, no pressure) 💕🩷

one step ahead

pairing: shadowheart, background cast x gender-neutral!tav (reader.)

content warnings: alcoholic consumption, lightest bit of suggestive. reverse comfort. religious trauma (shar.), pre-selune shart.

author’s note: i don’t quite know. this is the first time i wrote wothout being high so ahm. this might suck. Uh. so sorry, dear... begging the nines for this to flop. praying hands emoji.

Before discovering:

You’re a darling thing – considerate, easy to like.

Shadowheart vies for your heart, confident she’s the only one. The party is big and Farûn even bigger, surely, they will not take this one thing away from her? She doesn’t take it seriously at first, the way they touch you, look at you, speak of you. No, she ignores it, continues to court you with soft flowers and fold and prayers of blessings upon you. You’re a priority to her, first and foremost. The only thing she has besides Shar’s teachings.

You like her. The way she feels about you is nothing if not refreshing, rid of lust. So you laugh with her, thank her so prettily for her gifts. She’s confident.

After discovering:

It comes to her late at night. She is not the only one who gives you flowers and gold and prayers, it seems. What meager she has to offer the others are extravagant with. She begrudgingly stumbles upon the possibility that you might’ve served more as a distraction than a lover, you’ve been challenging her faith and focus.

Have you swayed her? The same way you have seemingly swayed the other ones in the party?

If there’s one thing Shadowheart has discovered about herself, it’s that she does not like to share. But you are not hers. And is then she begins to descend into thoughts she does not like, about how it would feel to stake a claim over you.

You become more of a trial to overcome, something to have a crisis over.

Shadowheart purses her lips, sulking by the fire. She’s alone, thankfully – but the night is not peaceful for her, as it may be for the others slumbering around. The wind bites at her legs and something akin to heartbreak and envy chews at her heart as she stares at your tent. An abandoned, emptied bottle of putrid wine lay on its side near her.

It should be alarming, how quickly she’s taken to a different sort of nightly activity; chasing away her thoughts of you with wine and whisky instead of praying. She’s half-convinced you’re a hidden disciple of Lady Shar, with the way you invoke loss so easily in her. You must be a test of faith – one she is losing.

If she is bound to lose, she will not go down without tooth and nail. She’s opted for trying to sweep you off your feet, bouquets of orchids, opening her heart to you. Unfortunately, for every endeavor, you’ve tugged an endearing smile at. You’ve sung her praises on how darling of a friend she was – and she had been laughed at, patted on the back with sympathy by those in the party.

She wonders if you’ve even paid mind to how her advances have faltered. How she had herself distanced from you.

Shadowheart huffs, petty. Your heart has been something hotly-contested amongst the camp – for fuck’s sake, amongst everyone you cross, from drows and tieflings to cambions and lords alike. She knows it, she sees how those in the party - especially that damned vampire, drink in your bodice. The lilted curve of your smile. The bob of your throat. She sees how they could just maim one another for a chance at you, and she cannot blame them for their hunger – but it does not soothe her misery.

The idiots make it a competition of sorts; how far they could skirt around their affections without being caught — but Astarion seems to be winning. It is no secret to everyone, of the trysts you share with the vampire. It haunts her; how in the absence of light, he leans over you, pins you to the ground and sinks his teeth into the soft, welcoming flesh of your florid neck. He licks and savors the sanguine off of your skin whilst you whimper in pain beneath him.

During those nights, she cannot help but stay up, even long after the vampire has sauntered off, leaving you bloodless, limping. She strains her ears to listen to you breathe stiltedly. What she wouldn’t give for the chance to eat you up, whisper pretty things to you even as you push against her and whimper.

(During those nights, it is where she cannot help but truly resonate with Lady Shar’s teachings. Embittered, speared with loss with the fact you have plenty of beds to warm, hearts to hold – but none are hers.)

In the morning, she alone fusses and casts a light heal over you, brushing over your wounded neck, ignoring how Astarion will make an innuedo of your taste to irritate his fellow, seething companions. She will ignore how you flush.

Shadowheart is not blind – even the most foolish of fools could see she is not the only one to vie for your heart. She kicks around in the dirt, disgruntled, raking a hand through her otherwise pristine hair. You are a ridiculous conundrum, an enigma that puts her faith, her control at a losing trial — a groan is forced out of her. She would kill to have anything else on her mind but you, you, you, you, who has swarmed and consumed much of her waking thoughts.

Damn you. Damn you for all you are. You must be a cambion amongst the likes of Haarlep with the way you’ve ensnared her.

Before the cleric can run off with gritted teeth, however, a weight is settled on her shoulder from behind. Mortification is quick to take over her, a chill like winter in Icewind Dale, or worse, High Ice, crawling on her spine.

“Hey, you.” Your voice softly greets her. You do not wait for her answer, she figures when you decide to sit down on the log and huddle up to her as a comforting anchor, unaware to the flushed grimace on her face.

It is a brief thought that passes; what if the Nightsong Lady was watching her right at this moment? How will she ever explain this in her prayers? Should she beg that the Lady spare you? She gapes like a dehydrated fish on land when you burrow yourself further to her side and meet eyes with her.

You do not know you look how ambrosian you are at this moment. You are warm. You are soft and you are alone. Right in front of her, nestling into her, even – unknowing that she is on the prepice of some circle of hell, one riddled with indecision. Should she swoop you off your feet, profess her affections to you and press her mouth to yours until you’re stupid enough to let her bed you for the night?

Or should she gather you in her jaws and bite voraciously hard enough that you will turn limp? Spare you from what is her maw? The pit of her want she could condemn you to?

(But hers must be more merciful than the rest’s, surely? Would you prefer it to be her that destroys you?)

She is now convinced, you are the greatest trial of forbearance and endurance Shar has thrown her way.

“Shadowheart?” You murmur worriedly, a few seconds later to her silence, the fire casting a sultry, welcoming flush over you. She watches as you reach a hand up to your own face; undoubtedly thinking, why is she staring at you like you’ve burnt down the entirety of Faerûn? Shadowheart swallows, jittery; she cannot bear to tear herself away from your embrace.

“Why... why have you come here? To me?” It is all she manages to wrench out of her dry throat. Her waist trembles when you wrap an arm around it. She wishes to ask more; what are we? What am i to you? What do you want from me? Why are you doing this to me—?

“You looked lonely, was all.” You yawned, something ladened with slumber. She could not fathom the thought that this, whatever you were doing, could be casual to you. Was it an everyday occurence for you to ensconcing with whoever you deemed warm enough? “You could do with some company.”

Company? Does she deserve it? You could be with Karlach or Halsin, right now. Their arms were built to sweep you right off your feet. Or Astarion, surely? Was her company so special to you, you had refused your nightly tryst with him?

No, the rational part of her hisses. You’re thinking too highly of yourself; and what it says is true. She’s nothing more than some elf, one who cannot even string herself together.

It’s an uncomfortable silence – though it seems onesided, with how you flutter and cosy up to her despite how stiff she is. Somewhere in between, she feels a frown on your face pressed to her shoulder. She swallows, a prayer of repentance and a lash against her back is what she deserves. She’s a fool. There is no other but herself to fault if she was to fail the trial you pose.

“Shadowheart,” you mutter, more fiercely, another question on your mouth. She reveres the image of you, with your brows are wrinkled with worry for her. “Are you okay?”

But if the punishment is inevitable, she might as well just enjoy the buildup, right?

The cleric shakes her head, the witty response she has wilting when the instantaneous tightening of your arms around her fills her with the most innocent surge of need she’s ever felt – and her body wraps its arms around you before her mind has a say on it.

“Y-You torment me, you know?” She says, breathy, unnerved. The way you look at her and search her eyes for anything that could give her away has her breathless, and she can’t quit decide if that’s a good thing. It feels dirty, almost as if you’re looking for sin in her. She has plenty to go around.

“Why?” You ask, pushing on.

“You confuse me.” Shadowheart shakes her head, allowing the warmth of your palm to slide on her face. She graces it with her own. Shar cannot be watching, damn her. “So much.”

She continues, clutching onto your fingers, “I cannot be with you, I cannot – but gods,” she chokes, lips quivering once. “you make it so hard to stay away.”

You flush at it, what she means. Shadowheart follows. She wonders if you can hear it, the thrum of her heart, a testament of her sin, her unforgivable wrongdoings. She wonders if you know she’s starting to look at you as more of a salvation then a trial. You feel like it.

“Where is this coming from?” You ask, so gently, so reassured. You even tuck her hair behind her ears and it makes her flush with delight. “What makes you so sure you cannot be with me, hm?”

“Why me?” It clicks to you why she had asked that earlier. You frown, smoothing your thumb over the apple of her supple cheek. Her voice trembles. “You could have anyone you wanted, you know. Soldiers, or dukes. But you, you act like this towards me; and I’m just me.”

She does not say how afraid she feels that she could taint you with sin.

“And I like you for you.” You interject; and the butterflies in her stomach seem to triple, despite her eyes burning with exhaustion. “You are more than enough for me. You are wonderful to me.”

“You’re fine, we’re fine. I want to be with you.”

(She wonders if you mean for the rest of your life or this night only.)

Your words ring in her mind. She wonders if you want her to the same extent she does with you. But whatever — she’ll deal with it in the morning, the talk, the regret, the prayers, her reward and consequences. For now, she will let you soothe down the mess she’s made of her hair and hold her, entangle yourself to her as if to share warmth in place of the dying fire.

She could be enough for you, she could take care to not damage you with what she is. And she’s sure that she deserves this, snugly rocking in your arms, even for a night or two. And maybe you deserve a pretty flower again.

If she cannot have you, she can at the very least make sure you have her.

[crazylittlejester]

I'd absolutely love to hear what you have to say about Time 🙃 /gen

And, I hope you are feeling well. I think you said you were dizzy? I hope that gets better 🫶

I’m feeling much better, thank you!! I hope you’re going good as well :)

Sorry this took me a whole day to type out, but I finished!! I got it!!

I have a lot more thoughts, I had to cut a lot for the sake of making it readable and not obnoxiously long so I really hope I still get my points across well 😭 , but here we go:

An Abridged Version of My Thoughts on Time (I’m Insane I’m Sorry):

Okay so I’m starting off this whole thing by saying that 100% of this is my opinion and the research I did was done specifically to back my stance (which does not make it canonical fact. You can do research to back any point. You can do research to argue against my point, even). This doesn’t make my perspective or interpretation of a character the correct one by any means, and this definitely leans towards how I personally characterize and view him and is biased in that way because I’m the one who wrote it. All of you are entitled to your own opinions, you don’t have to agree with or listen to a single thing I say. In fact if you do disagree I encourage you to reblog and share your OWN thoughts so I can read YOUR perspective! I like seeing opinions people have and I love to see how differently all of us can view the same character /gen. I just that ask if you do do this, that you be kind and respectful to myself and others :)

This entire yap, analysis, whatever you wanna call it, is my perspective on Time and my thoughts behind why I believe he acts the way he does. At some point in all this I’m specifically going to focus on how he’s acting at the end of the Dawn arc and in the more recent updates. However in order to talk about that I wanna go to the beginning and talk about his past, the environment he grew up in, his relationships with others, and how I believe that has shaped the way he functions as an adult. My apologies now for being insane, unfortunately I have no life and also a lot of thoughts, and full access to a college library full of case studies- My professors would be so proud… Hope y’all enjoy lmao

Loneliness and Isolation:

One of the first things I noticed when I started playing OOT was this divide between Link and the Kokiri. Despite the fact that none of them know he’s actually a hylian, the bullying and teasing and the way they treat him for not having a fairy feels as though they’re making him to be different from them. Even Saria and the Great Deku Tree speak to/about him in ways that make it seem that, even though they care about him, they do see him as different from the others. (Granted, Saria’s treatment of Link is likely fully an unintentional thing. She doesn’t mean to be cruel when she makes her comment about how after Link got his fairy he could be a real Kokiri because she is a child and probably didn’t think about how that would come off to a kid who’s been arguably treated as less than for not having a fairy this entire time. She’s probably aware of how upset he’s been, but they’re children and I doubt she realized her attempt at comfort potentially made Time feel worse. The Great Deku Tree, on the other hand, referring to him as ‘the boy without a fairy’ immediately makes it clear to us as the player that Link is different from the Kokiri. He knows Link is hylian, which is something the player, Link, and the Kokiri do not know at this point)

Not having a fairy like the others certainly separates Time from the Kokiri because having a fairy companion appears to be a huge deal, something everyone has in common except for him. While it isn’t really on the same scale, I imagine this feeling of not having something your friends do could be, to an extent, comparable to how it would feel if all your peers had cell phones or social media access and you did not. (BAD EXAMPLE I KNOW BUT HEAR ME OUT.) The ability to consume media at such a fast pace and share jokes and trends with peers has become something to bond over, and being outside of that ‘world’ would leave someone to feel like they’re missing out on something they couldn’t possibly understand unless they get it for themselves. When your friends all have phones and you don’t, you have to sit there awkwardly when they all pull them out to text people or look things up, even if you’re doing something that doesn’t even require being on your phone, like going to the mall or hanging out. Sure they might show you a meme or two, but you can’t show them your memes, or share things and exist in the online world the way they do. Time could see and interact with the others’ fairies but he didn’t have that for himself, and I imagine it was probably hard for him to bond with the Kokiri because of it. Even if they were just playing a game or messing around and he wasn’t even being teased for not having a fairy of his own, those other fairies were right there as a constant reminder that Time didn’t have his own companion because he was, for a reason he couldn’t understand, different

Having played Skyward Sword and the beginning of Twilight Princess and seeing how both of those Links are treated by the people around them in comparison to how the Kokiri interact with Time, it feels safe to say there’s a good possibility he felt out of place and a little isolated by his own community. The way he was seemingly blamed for the death of the Great Deku Tree after finding out the life altering information that he is different probably did nothing but cause further divide between himself and the Kokiri in his mind, if not completely sever the connection he had between himself and that community

Do I think the Kokiri completely excluded him and intentionally tried to isolate him? No, I do not. However it’s clear that Saria was his best friend and the others weren’t always the nicest to him. It’s not too far a stretch to say he probably felt very lonely at times in his childhood, more so than the average kid

The theme of isolation and loneliness continues when the timeline shenanigans happen at the end of OOT and Time is now the only one who knows what happened to him. He has absolutely nothing to show for what he physically just went through and he can tell people about it all he wants but they’ll never understand because for them it simply never happened. Once again Time is isolated from this community he finds himself a part of because he’s different from them in a way they cannot relate to, driving a wedge between him and the rest of society. And Malon and Zelda are not people who would intentionally drive him further from feeling like he can belong, but they will forever be different from him in a way none of them now have the power to control. He formed relationships with them and with other people that were then erased. He knows a version of them that doesn’t exist anymore (in the timeline he continued to live in), and he’s alone in that. There IS no fix to that problem

Attachment Styles and Development

Relationships are crucial to child development and the connections formed when we’re young impact the way we create and view our relationships in adulthood. Peer relationships are just as important as parental ones because they play a different role. While your friends are the ones who have more of an impact on things like your music tastes, interests, and sense of identity/role within your group of peers, it’s your parents/caregivers who teach you right from wrong (often religion plays a part in that as well though not always), are responsible for feeding you and helping you learn new skills as a young child. Having a secure attachment and good relationship to caregivers when you’re young really impacts how you seek comfort as an adult and how you form relationships with others. Children whose parents or caregivers responded to their distress in unpredictable ways (by offering comfort sometimes and being unable to other at times, for an example) are less likely to seek out those figures for comfort or be soothed by them when the comfort is offered. I have no idea exactly how old Time was when he was placed with the Kokiri or what his mother was like, but I feel it’s fair to say the Great Deku Tree was probably the closest thing to a parental figure/caregiver (while he was living with the Kokiri) that he has any memory of. And I also feel it’s fair to say that as the stationary tree guardian of a bunch of immortal children, it was pretty impossible for him to support all of those kids’ emotional needs

Making this assumption based solely on Navi’s role in the story and what she does for us as players of the game: I feel like the fairy companions might almost be more of a parental/caregiver like figure to the Kokiri children than the Great Deku Tree is, simply because they’re able to be around them more. Navi helps Time (and the player) find things, gives clues, and helps the player with the game controls, so inside the actual game I think it’d be fair to say she (and other fairies) have more of a hands on role in guiding these children than the Great Deku Tree. And again, Time didn’t have that, not until his adventure started. He didn’t have a fairy companion while his friends and peers did, he was on his own. He wasn’t getting that potential comfort from a reliable caregiver the others were, which I believe can be partly responsible for how determined he is to solve his own issues. (Of course personality also has a play in things like this, and as we all know the hero’s spirit is incredibly fucking stubborn.) He was taught through the failures of the ‘adult’ figures in his life that the only one who’d be there to really comfort him was him

Identity and Relationships

Apart from feeling alone and not having the same types of companionship his peers did, I firmly believe Time seriously struggled with identity issues as well. Being told he wasn’t enough for the Master Sword yet, just to then be suddenly physically several years older and expected to operate as an adult despite having less than a decade of life experience, back to being shoved into the body of a child after living through horrors and accumulating scars that are now just gone doesn’t real make for the most confident, mentally stable of people. The message he most likely took from that was “You’re not enough as you are.”

He was a hero who saved a kingdom, then forgotten when everything was set back, and then abandoned by the one person (fairy) who went through it all with him after it was all done. If he’d felt alone or isolated in his youth before all that happened, I can’t imagine how overwhelming all those emotions were after all that. He needed Navi because she’s the only one who can really validate what he went through, she was the only one who could have understood him. She was a guardian and a friend and he couldn’t figure out why she left him, which must’ve just been absolutely devastating.

He was still just a kid, with no one to talk to about these issues. (Though he sort of works through some of them on his own through helping others in Majora’s Mask. Granted that left him with new issues even if it may have helped him work through a few old ones. I think there are quite a lot of similarities between Link and Skull Kid, but that’s a yap for another day.) I can imagine that both his identity and what he was supposed to do with himself were things he questioned constantly, and building relationships with people was probably very difficult for him when he hadn’t fully worked out himself. And he didn’t really have someone to comfort him or help him figure all that out

At a certain point, I think the feeling of being alone became almost a comfort to him. It was the most reliable thing he had, he could handle things on his own and that was something he knew for fact. He learned how to deal with his emotions and issues (maybe not in the healthiest of ways in his youth), and instead of being so suffocating, the isolation became something he could CONTROL. With all the instability throughout his childhood, the fact that he could reliably be on his own without dealing with the unpredictability of others was probably a relief. He didn’t have to worry about people leaving or getting hurt because he couldn’t protect them, but that didn’t really replace the feeling of loneliness so much as sloppily cover it up

Malon and the ranch are things that have been able to give him something he hadn’t had in years, which was stability and companionship. He’s been alone and isolated or dealing with loss his entire life, but she’s able to provide him with something steady, something safe to come back to. That’s been absolutely huge for him in regards to the healing process, because not only is it said in LU that she believes him completely, she’s literally his biggest supporter. And having a sturdy location and person to come back to at the end of whatever little trips he probably continued to go off to gave him comfort while still allowing him to keep that feeling of control over himself and his life. Sure not everything is perfect all the time and relationships are things that you have to put time, effort, and patience into, but he’s allowed to have his support and his much needed feeling of control over his life at the same time while living in that scenario. She loves him, she loves him very much and I have no doubt they worked together to get him to the place of comfort he’s at now. The panels from any of the ‘Malon’ posts are really the most relaxed we’ve seen Time for long stretches of time, it’s clear he’s been able to make a safe space for himself there

And now here’s the part where I actually talk about the recent comic update(s)!!!!!!!! (Yippee!!!)

Time is a very quiet, stoic character in LU especially when compared to the others, which are qualities that pull a lot from the hero’s shade. He’s the unofficial official leader, and he’s at a point in his life where he’s been able to work on himself and form healthy relationships (not perfect ones, but healthy ones built on communication which is clearly a struggle for him still but I cannot afford to get into that this post because that’s way too much. If y’all want a yap about that, ask me later). He puts a lot of stress and pressure onto himself, because he feels as though he’s responsible for these younger heroes, even though some of them have far more experience than he does

But in addition to this, he’s absolutely terrified of caring about people, and he’s not used to working with other people in this area of his life. Because no one sticks around, and if they do, what’s stopping the timeline from resetting somehow and taking their memory of him away? He no longer has the stability and comfort that comes with being alone because he’s forced to work with other people, other heroes who are equal to him in that regard, and people are unpredictable. And with unpredictability comes loss of control

Anger is an easier emotion for a child to process, and express themself through. This is why depression in children often manifests itself as anger. Children dealing with depression have a harder time managing and controlling their anger and can come off as snappier, inattentive, and reckless (obviously this is not the same case for every single child). While he certainly isn’t a child anymore in LU, I think Time is still someone who when overwhelmed is quick to anger, but this does not mean that he’s not kind. He’s incredibly kind and caring, and you can tell he loves everyone around him so deeply even though he’s probably a bit angry at himself for letting them all worm their way into his heart because he’s going to have to let them go some day. But still, some of that snappiness comes through even in his adult years and he’s a lot harsher with the others than I believe he intends to be. He’s not genuinely angry at them, he’s mad at the situation they’re in right now because he’s no longer responsible for just himself. He doesn’t have control anymore, and he’s probably back to feeling like a scared child who might be about to lose everyone again and he hates that

Twilight got hurt and he blames himself for it. He’s in an unfamiliar situation with people he cares a lot about who are all just as reckless and determined as he is, and he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself because in his mind if he lets something happen to one of these boys, that’s on him and he should’ve done better

Ough (A Continuation of ‘Isolation’)

In a way Time exists on a different level of the timeline. He retained memories of things that no longer exist, and he’s witnessed the rewritting of time over and over again. The timeline he was born in may no longer be the one he exists in, though it certainly branched from that original one. He has knowledge and memories of relationships that are real to only him in the timeline where he lives, and I would argue that because of this, he lives outside of society

Now this genuinely has nothing to do with anything I just wanna yap about something because The Voices, and it’s gonna be a fucking reach but if you’ve stayed this long you must find something appealing about my incoherent rambling so allow me to draw a genuinely insane comparison between Time and his existence in society and ‘The Lady of Shallot’, written in 1832 by a poet by the name of Alfred Tennyson. If you have no idea what this is, it’s incredibly short and easy to find with a quick google search, and I encourage you to read it. But for those of you who didn’t sign up for a poetry assignment today I’ll summarize

The Lady of Shallot is cursed to stay in a tower away from the rest of society and she’s unable to look upon Camelot with her own eyes, because something bad will happen if she does though she has no idea what. Day after day she creates these tapestries of what she sees of the society behind her through a mirror. She’s unable to look at it with her own eyes so what she creates is unable to perfectly reflect what it is the world has to offer. And she’s absolutely sick of it, she sees happy people wandering down below, knights riding through, she sees through her mirror what life is like for those within society and she wants to join them. She sees a beautiful man one day (Lancelot) and decides the curse is worth it, just for a chance to leave her tower, so she turns around and sees Camelot with her own eyes. She leaves her tower and goes to join society but by the time she gets there she’s dead

Now one of the meanings hidden within this is how artists are almost outside of society and that is how they are able to so accurately depict it, and that joining society and being ‘normal’ would make them unable to keep their unique perspective that isolation provides. But I’m going to be crazy here and draw parallels to a video game character because I CAN

Time exists outside of society and is isolated from every community he tries to be a part of because the differences between him and the Kokiri/normal hylian are so significant he feels like he doesn’t belong there. Despite having built his sense of identity back up, he still, to an extent, feels like an outsider. The things he’s been through separate him from being able to just be a normal guy, and he craves so badly to be part of a community he’s almost convinced himself he CANNOT join. The chain (and Malon, but mainly the other heroes) help him have something to connect to, because while they may not have the exact same experience they understand him more than anyone else ever could. He then tries to join society, something happens, and he dies a warrior full of regrets

Is it a reach? Yeah. But I like the poem and I can’t stop thinking about the parallels (that I’ve probably completely fucking made up at this point) every time I think too long about Time and it makes me claw at the dry wall and scream. I’m so normal…

Anyways, *weak cough* thanks for reading, if you did. It means a lot that you’ve supported my insanity. I hope this is coherent-

Thanks Emmie for reading through this for me 😭, and special shoutout to every single one of you who sent me asks yesterday to remind me to write this I love you all sm actually:

@trash-aged-like-fine-wine @rebornofstars @blueskybehindtheclouds @captainn-hook @ghosttoasts

[rawrsatthetree]

I think the best way to tackle a Modern AU for BG3 isn’t to make it a slice of life but to some how combine the elements of a collage drama, organized crime, a dooms day cult, and an alien invasion all into one coherent plot.

I do not know how to do this but I do have some ideas. All the characters have no reason to associate with each other until they’re all abducted by aliens, wormed, and released back into the wild like a bird that just got tagged. Everyone kind of writes it off as either a bad trip or a dream until the cross paths and the worm does the connection thing. Eventually bringing them all together with a few people investigating the invasion to get to the bottom of what’s happening.

Wyll is a pre law student mostly against his will to appease his dad. He wants to help people but doesn’t necessarily want to be a cop like his father the chief of police. He half asses his classes because he doesn’t have much passion for them, blowing them off to volunteer in clubs and community outreach programs. I think Mizora should be either a professor, Dean of students, or academic advisor. In exchange for favors she alters his grades pushes him through the system. Little does he know she’s also idk involved with a crime organization and her favors go from small and perverted to slowly becoming more dangerous and criminal. He’s young and she has a lot of power over his future and could even expose him as a fraud and an accomplice to his father so he feel helpless to defy her.

Astarion is a law school drop out but that’s old news. You’ll find him prowling the local bar and club scene looking for potential clients. After a string of bad luck and poor life choices he’s a prostitute and drug dealer for a local gangster in the Black Hand gang only known as The Vampire (I know I’m so creative). Cazador’s deal is still the pretty much the same local rich public figure is secretly a very cruel and evil man who uses fear and addiction to control his underlings.

Karlach worked as muscle for the leader of the Black Hand gang before she was forcibly sold and enlisted as a mercenary over seas. After a ten years fighting in foreign years she’s back and ready to get her revenge on the whole Black Hand cult unfortunately she has to do it quickly because (ok idk I tried doing some research and couldn’t find any condition caused by an injury that can suddenly become fatal idk maybe cancer from a bullet or shrapnel)

Gale isn’t a professor but like a doctorate student on a tenure track, but bordering on the mad science kind of research. He’s in an abusive relationship with his over seeing faculty Mystra. Ultimately a lab accident during his research leads to the orb.

I think Lae’zel should still be an alien. She was abducted on another planet and escaped while the earthlings were being tadpoled. Now she’s stranded and tadpoled on a strange planet.

Halsin is a university professor and a local environmental activist. He’s been investigating strange occurrences and is onto the alien invasion thing.

I’m honestly not sure about Shadowheart. She should definitely be college age. But I’m not sure how to approach the shar thing.

Not sure about Minthara either except maybe military turned death cult member.

Jaheira and Minsc are cops investigating the alien invasion I’m so sorry not like real world cops but like fun fictional cops that only exist in movies. Boo is their police dog. OMG wait no they’re Park Rangers!!

Other stuff

The dead three chosen are instead three gang leaders. Except Bhaal cult also doubles as a murder cult still on top of being a criminal organization.

The alien invasion is still the mind flayer grand design.

I don’t think the dead three are controlling the mind flayers this time. Instead they’re using the strange alien invasion occurrences as grounds to start a dooms day cult or maybe they are idk

[trappedinafantasy37]

A Minthara origin would be the most entertaining, fascinating, and most compelling origin

Unfortunately, it doesn't work given how her story already plays out. When it comes to discussions on who can be considered the main character of the game, Minthara is often overlooked as a candidate despite the fact that she just oozes main character energy.

What makes Minthara's story so compelling is that she starts off already enthralled by the Absolute. As her origin, you would have to experience coming to the surface from the Underdark, getting lured into a trap, tortured and forcibly converted by Orin (this is probably where her origin would actually start gameplay wise), committing a litany of atrocities in which you have no ability to do anything otherwise, failing the Absolute and getting tortured again, and then you get freed in which you swear bloody vengeance against the Absolute. Unlike the other origins, you as Minthara would end up actually having to live and experience the torments that are merely talked about in conversation with the other origins (with the exception of Shadowheart as Shar actively tortures her throughout her origin).

The entirety of Act 1 would be completely different from the origins because she wouldn't be on the Nautiloid. Remember, the Nautiloid was Gortash's mission and Minthara has no connection to Gortash, only to Ketheric and Orin. She would literally have no reason or business being on the Nautiloid. In order for her to start there with the others, her entire backstory would have to be changed which would do her story a massive disservice. No, a Minthara origin would only work if her story legitimately starts with her already a part of the Absolute.

But, then we come across the biggest narrative hurdle in her origin: how does she get the Prism? At least with the other origins, you get the Prism pretty much from the get-go via Shadowheart. (Hell, even if you ignore her she will kinda force herself into your party anyway.) Since Shadow has the Prism, how do you explain these two character naturally coming together on their own if they are not on the Nautiloid together? Does Minthara go find Shadow, or does Shadow come to her? And, how exactly does Minthara retrieve the Prism from Shadow? Given Minthara's nature in Act 1, there is a very high likelihood that the retrieval of the Prism in Act 1 may be fatal for the half-elf, meaning you as Minthara will be down one companion.

Another narrative hurdle is determining what Act Minthara should get the Prism. I personally think her story works best if she doesn't get the Prism until Act 2. Her torture scene, as brutal as it is, is a turning point in her character motivation, similar to Shadow finding out about the Nightsong or Bae'zel finding out the truth about Vlaakith. If you pay very close attention, Minthara actually does manage to break out of her enthrallment on her own without the Prism and it was because she was tortured directly by the Absolute.

Considering the fact that she has an actual religious faith in the Absolute, Minthara simply having the Prism wouldn't be enough to break her loyalty. This is why the Emperor doesn't bring her completely into the fold in Act 1, even though he does disconnect her from the Absolute temporarily. Unfortunately, this means that you as the player characters, gets tortured (which serves as fantastic motivation for you to want to destroy the Absolute).

So, if Minthara doesn't get the Prism until Act 2, you end up with the same dilemma of explaining how Shadow and Minthara come together. Not only that, but if she doesn't get the Prism until Act 2, what of the other companions? At this point, a Minthara origin legit has a very high likelihood of being a solo or near solo run, which would also make her origin the most mechanically difficult to play. But, I personally don't think that's much of a problem. Minthara is pretty damn OP in her own right. I literally have a list of bosses that she has solo'd or nearly solo'd for me. So, although mechanically difficult, I still think it'd be very doable to do a solo run in a Minthara origin. However, this would also make her story so much more rewarding, a single paladin fighting against god by herself? Sign me the fuck up!

A plus side to a Minthara origin is that she would end up having the most amount of unique content to all the origins in the entire game cause her story wouldn't really start in the goblin camp, but most likely in Moonrise (it would kinda act as a prologue to Act 1 if anything). This also means that Act 1 would actually be a bit shorter for her than the other origins as the entirety of the Underdark/Grymforge would be inaccessible in her origin. Remember, Minthara is an enemy of Lolth by this point and returning to the Underdark means you as the player character would just die immediately. Which is a real shame cause that is a lot of content to lose. So, it would have to be made up elsewhere, giving Minthara content that the other origins will never have.

Unfortunately, she would be the least played origin because for all of Act 1, you as the player character would be forced to do evil things because Minthara has no free will. Which means you would have no free will and you cannot make any choices for yourself. Most players can barely handle the Alfira scene with Durge, the only moment in the game in which you are forced to do something evil. And, to this day, players still actively whine and cry and bitch about raiding the grove for Minthara. It seriously feels like half the fandom is just mad that raiding the grove is an option that's available. I don't really think many players can handle being forced as Minthara to raid the grove. In a Minthara origin, there will be no knock-out method, no loophole, no exploit. You as the player character would be forced by the Absolute to raid the grove as you do not have the ability to do otherwise.

Having no free will as Minthara through the entirety of Act 1 is what makes her story so much more compelling as an origin. Because it would be frustrating as a player to play a game of choices and not be able to make any choices. As a player it would be frustrating to be forced to do the evil and bad things. As a player, having no free will for the entirety of Act 1 would serve as fantastic motivation to destroy the Absolute, to destroy Ketheric, and to destroy Orin. It would actually make an Oath of Vengeance paladin so much more rewarding to role play as because you would actually feel the intense desire to seek vengeance for yourself.

It is a real shame that Minthara doesn't have her own origin and it's a shame that there are just too many narrative hurdles for it to work. For all the other origins, your story starts with you just wanting to get rid of the tadpole. As you learn more about it, you stumble across the Absolute and learn about the elder brain. From there, your motivation is either to destroy the Absolute, or claim it for yourself for the sole purpose of getting rid of the tadpole.

But a Minthara origin has a completely different motivation as it's intensely personal. You were stolen from your home, your oath to Lolth was stolen from you, you were tortured by Orin and Ketheric let it happen, a worm was forced into your brain, you were forced to commit atrocities, and robbed of your free will. Would that not just piss you right the fuck off and want to make your tormentors pay?! In this case, you as Minthara don't need a personal quest. The main questline IS your personal quest. I don't know about you, but that is some mad main character energy.

[itsalwaysalmostchristmas]

Rework of Viconia Devir

So, I had been working on two different ideas: How to rework Viconia where her whole story arc from the previous games doesn't get shat on and how to make the Tadpole Troupe more diverse.

I don't know why the thought came to me but it did: Shadowheart should've (or I think it would've been fun) been Viconia's daughter.

Please hear me out!

If you don't know, Viconia has literally the worse luck in the world it seems, like read her wiki page history I'm sure that's just then tip of the iceberg.

When travelling with Gorion's Ward she is a cleric of Shar, and if not romanced, after their adventures she goes to Waterdeep to run an enclave there, which Viconia in BG3 does tell us:

[Viconia DeVir: I had an enclave in Waterdeep, you know. Much grander than this. Shar ordered me to raze it, kill all who followed me - claim they betrayed me, when in fact I slew those who showed nothing but loyalty.]

I really think Viconia remaining with Shar sucks major balls. Literally, she goes on to be a hero in her own right in her epilogue:

[No longer with Protagonist, Viconia went on to found a cult dedicated to Shar in the city of Waterdeep. One of her followers betrayed her, however, prompting the slaughter of the whole tainted lot. Shar admonished Viconia strongly for this, but she was unrepentant and again wandered the Realms. Viconia was still formidable, and went on to prevent an attempt by the Knights of the Shield to take over Calimport, even worked with Drizzt Do'Urden to save the elven city of Suldanessalar from a Zhentarim plot. For this last act, the elves accepted her, and Queen Ellesime bestowed the highest honors of the Seldarine, an accolade never before given to one of her dark kind. Viconia reportedly bowed without emotion, and then left. Her fate remains unknown.]

Does that sound like someone who would continue to follow Shar?? My gal work with Drizzt Do'Urden! Saved at least two cities! Bestowed the highest award that no drow had ever received!?

Seriously, to me Viconia DeVir and Mother Superior are two completely different characters.

So, how does this work out for her to be Shadowheart's mother? I've got two alternatives that I could see the story using both at the same time, which they do with Gorion's Ward and Abdel Adrian.

Option 1: Viconia had a relationship with a human Selûnite

It could've been in Viconia's wanderings she save a town/village and a human took a keen liking to her. Either a fling or a genuine relationship, Viconia ends up pregnant and out shoots Jenevelle. You could still have it that her dad was a werewolf, but because he's human the years of torture on that torture disk thing caused him to perish.

(whatever that thing is)

Option 2: Shadowheart is the daughter of Viconia and Gorion's Ward

So, in Viconia's romanced ending she has a son with Gorion's Ward and fucking dies.

[Protagonist and Viconia continued adventuring long after leaving Tethyr. He became an important political figure, and she was his trusted counsel. Eventually Viconia bore Protagonist's child, which first served to strain their relationship. The birth, however, changed her, and she dedicated herself to raising the boy, teaching both the ways of the drow and of Protagonist's people. She marvelled at the understanding in his eyes, but unfortunately, didn't live to see him grow. Viconia was poisoned by a servant of Lolth, her last words whispered to her loving mate in private. Protagonist raised his son in secret, and tales vary on the result. Some say they waged a crusade against the drow, but all agree that the former child of Bhaal never forgot the love of his dark maiden.]

Obviously this isn't canon anymore, I guess? But, we've seen in the game Larian picks and chooses bits n pieces from the source material. I also don't like how Gorion's Ward isn't mentioned too much, I did hear that apparently Tav was meant to be a child of Gorion's Ward before it got scrapped and I do like the idea of descentants being part of the party.

If they had chosen this route of Shadowheart being Gorion's Ward and Viconia's child they could twist it in a few ways:

Viconia and Gorion's Ward did have a son but he was killed by Lolth servants rather than Viconia, making Shadowheart their second child.

Viconia and Gorion's Ward did have a son and they had Shadowheart as well but Gorion's Ward was killed by Lolth servants rather than Viconia, making the son still alive.

They never had a son, Lolth servant still kills Gorion's Ward

They never had a son, no Lolth servant kills anyone but Gorion's Ward still dies before we see Viconia again because people would not like a retconned CHARNAME we hate you abdel adrian fuck you

I think option 3 or 4 would make more sense game wise because you could still be vague on whether or not Shadowheart's other parent was Gorion's Ward, that way the player can decide based on who they romanced in their playthroughs. I do like option 2, either the brother could've spent all these years looking for his mother and sister and trying to save them or on the torture disk with his mother.

Also I don't think Viconia would become a Selûnite herself, honestly. I feel like two goddess' fucking you over would put you off worshipping another. However, I could see her wanting the best for her children, it says so in her epilogue she is a dedicated mother and I could imagine her wanting to set her child on the right path, some insecurity of poisoning her child's chance of a good life by being their mother.

I've said this in a post before but I genuinely didn't realise that Shadowheart's dad was a werewolf until I read it in a wiki article. I thought it was a manipulated memory and her dad (who we could switch out for Viconia) was illusion or replaced by a wolf to instil a fear in Shadowheart and make it seem like Mother Superior had saved her.

And, could you imagine the scene! You've defeated Mother Superior and her enclave, you got to where Shadowheart's parents are, with Minisc and Jaheira in your party, and hanging limp on the torture disk thing is the familiar face of Viconia DeVir.

Also Viconia's child being a target of Shar feels more possible than some random Selûnite couple. Honestly, you could take the whole Selûnite bit out. Could you imagine how pissed a god, especially one like Shar, would be if someone who had just killed a whole enclave of followers just shrugged of being scorned by you? Wouldn't you want to make them suffer for years? Make them remember what kind of god you are?

Anyways, here's half-drow Shadowheart!

(please excuse spelling mistakes and grammar I'm dyslexic)

[y-rhywbeth2]

Jergal trivia:

Known for keeping his tone emotionless and being perfectly polite and formal while "his words portended horrors unimaginable."

Responds badly when the dead are resurrected without his permission.

Netherese Archwizards insisted he wasn't actually a god, just a really powerful necromancer who was pretending to be one. (Because they were all after immortality, so - as their inevitable demise - he was their worst fear)

Master manipulator had an on-off courtship with Shar, while being fully aware that she was only responding because she was trying to manipulate him. Apparently he's into that (plus her evilness is apparently sexy). Also I suspect his apparent depression isn't just a manipulation tactic, so possibly her emotion eating/mind wiping was a major draw.

Honestly their approach to life is quite similar; "Power, success, and joy were as transitory as weakness, failure, and misery." - the difference being that Shar's answer is "destroy all joy and exist in eternal misery" and Jergal's is "Misery too shall pass. Life is a brief period before a long afterlife, so spend that brief time working out who you are and which afterlife I'm putting you in."

Overlap with Bhaalist dogma is: "You're all going to die, suck it up" and "I think my dead clergy should keep working, after being mummified."

If you couldn't afford the funeral costs back in the time of Netheril then his church would enlist your reanimated corpse for hard labour until the costs had been worked off (they had a construction service you could hire that was staffed with zombies)

His church used to have a life insurance policy: If you keep up with your payments, we will resurrect you when you die. If you're an adventurer and died somewhere stupid miles away from home, then unfortunately some poor Jergali priest is going to have to go out on their own adventure to fetch your body.

I wonder who paid for the BG3 party?

[raviollies]

Summary time

The gang decided to investigate a Selunite encampment for Eirwen to ask for ways to combat Shar and the influence of the Shadowfell and maybe clues regarding her lost memories. The Selunite outpost was....well rundown. Everything was dirty, tattered and no Selunite symbols. When questioned they literally just said "DO YOU SEE HOW WE LIVE?"

2. I think you guys can tell that it was actually a Sharrian enclave instead. Blythe used Dominate Person and charmed one of them and they gave us a guided tour of the facility. The basement had a bunch of bodies and relics, which we looted of course.

3. The party (Eirwen and Arameia) refused to leave unless we took care of them because they're hurting innocent people. Blythe couldn't possibly give a fuck cause she's not getting paid, and Raha just kind of was ambivalent. Then Blythe had a lightbulb moment and told them to UNALIVE themselves (Yes I know Dominate person doesn't work this way but we found it to be funny enough to just go with it)

5. Afterwards the gang went back to camp and hung out for a bit. Had a long discussion about whether or not it matters if Eirwen regains her memories because at the end of the day, she's still herself. Who cares who she used to be, and if that information hurts her...why not let sleeping dogs lie?

5.5 I FORGOT but at dinner Lorelai decided to be bat form as it's easier for her to get cozy and warm up and she had her blood in a goblet (Yes we all thought batstarion was too adorable). Arameia however thought it was EXTRA adorable and asked her to sit her in lap. She did.

6. Raha made breakfast the next day - Rice Porridge with nutmet and cinnamon with side of plums and nuts...it was an Elven dish from his childhood - unfortunately it had milk in it and Eirwen is lactose intolerant.

6.5 ANOTHER THING I FORGOT - Arameia introduced her tiny little miniature dragon she found in her coinpurse (yes. that's his horde. pocket change) and Blythe went Wild because of the amount of chemical reagents she could acquire from the little guy. The little guy in question was sweating bullets and attempting to flee.

7. We went to an Elven village to restock but turned out that it was ransacked by most likely humans, judging by the weapons left behind. Raha himself was the most despondent out of them all since he had lost his family due to a human raid, his entire village facing a similar fate and nothing remained except some survivors that had to relocate.

8. Arameia asked Raha to translate something she found and it was clear that Raha did not speak Elven naturally, and it is his second language. It was revealed that Raha never learned Elven as a child, due to the proximity of his village to a large human settlement most spoke common instead of Elven to be able to communicate with the humans. Unfortunately this caused a lot of friction with the Elves that took in the refugees. Facing a lot of ostracization and othering, Raha had left this other village as soon as he could, and learned Elven on his own, causing him to be fluent by no means anywhere near a native speaker.

(I shit you not tumblr wouldn't let me post this until i did the border. I don't know what it has against Forlorn Raha)

9. Raha and Arameia had a heart to heart at the fire, as Arameia also lost her parents when her village was wiped out (hers by a pack of werewolves, hence her deep seated hatred towards them). Raha could sympathize, but he doesn't hate humans, due to the hate he faced from other Elves. He believes that it's simply a product of having power, and chooses to remain solitary.

He is thankful for meeting everyone but he can never trust crowds or big populations ever again, preferring to stay clear.

10. Lorelai bullied Raha for getting laid

[fuckyeahbaldursgate]

Viconia - Plot Support extraordinaire

Just to preface this as I don't want this to seem like I am hating on BG3 as a diehard fan of the original series because I really do love BG3. I've completed it twice now and think it will absolutely be joining my annual rotation of BG1/SOD/BG2 playthroughs but it has its problems, much in the same way that the originals themselves have problems as well.

So after my Sarevok post I wanted to treat Viconia to the same critical analysis as unfortunately I think she also gets the short end of the evil plot stick. I get it, evil characters can be hard to get right but again similar to Sarevok, in my opinion, her character regresses to evil Shar mook number one rather than actually being Viconia. Worse still she's entirely at the mercy of being wrapped up in ShadowHeart's backstory.

Anyway this is a bit of a deep dive into Viconia's issues in BG3. Spoiler warning for both BG3 and BG2.

1. No Grey DeLise.

Again, similar to Sarevok, another prolific voice actor that has done recent video game work seemingly not approached for the role. I can't help but think that some of this is down to the rushed nature of act three generally and Larian just having to get whoever they could for the job in the time that they needed it. Unlike Jaheria and Minsc there's no attempt to mimic her original VA or get someone who sounded like her so she ends up sounding completely and utterly different.

This version of Viconia sounds haughty and stuck up which while the original Viconia VA has a degree of arrogance, she is also pretty sultry. Haer'dalis even comments that she has 'the throaty voice of the most expensive courtesan' and Viconia deliberately plays on the stereotype of the sensual female drow with certain male party members for her own benefit e.g the male Bhaalspawn, Edwin, Sarevok and even Anomen (I cover this a bit here and here).

2. Her in game design...just isn't great.

Let's be honest, combined with the voice, Viconia's design basically makes her unrecognisable. She looks like a generic old drow lady to the point that I did have 'Is that meant to be Viconia?' moment when I first met her.

Now I appreciate there is minor controversy with Viconia's original BG2 portrait (which is probably the most recognisable image of her) because the artist actually used a famous porn star as the base for it.

For info, this was a common practice at Bioware at the time as they used to use lots of different images as bases for portraits. They finally got into legal trouble for it in NWN where due to various copyright claims they had to change quite a few portraits.

More recently, I think that Beamdog actually did quite a good job of recreating a faithful adaption of her original portrait in Siege of Dragonspear while presumbably navigating the original copyright issue.

In comparison to her BG3 portrayal, my first impression was she looks incredibly old. Now as far as I'm aware we've never been given a canon age for Viconia but we do know she was around for House DeVir being defeated by the Do'Urden house so she has to be at least 100 years old by the time of BG1... but her character level is between 2 and 6 (depending on the party's XP) so a relatively inexperienced cleric. With that in mind I definitely assumed she was on the younger side (maybe 200-300?). Either way 5e elves can live between 750 to 1000 years although there are instances in the Forgotten Realms books of drow living to over 2000. Now tack on the additional 120 years for BG3 in my mind it would definitely put her in the middle aged category but not necessarily anywhere near the end of her life. Critically she would be aging much slower than Jaheria but with those wrinkles she looks WAY older than her. I honestly feel cheated of an interaction between the two about how hagged and old Jaheria looks in comparison to herself.

In terms of her outfit, although initially she wears the Sharite mask and hooded outfit, which is good for concealing her identity, we eventually end up with Viconia in a spider adorned dress. This seems like a strange choice given the spider motif when she literally stopped worshipping Lloth for Shar - maybe she's being ironic? The lack of armour,when she's a cleric that knows there's a good chance she's about to have a fight seems kind of stupid. If you do choose to fight her, she then looks entirely comical in her light dress accompanied by an enormous oversized shield and mace.

For me though this really identifies her design problem: her leather armour was a critical part of her original design. Given that we only see portrait style headshots of BG characters, the decision not to include her leather corset with the three straps and the head band is really what makes her unrecognisable. It would be like removing Minsc's head tattoo or Jaheria's braids or Sarevok's armour (which even with all the problems I talked about in my post, at least he got to keep that).

My hope is that some enterprising modder out there makes a more BG2 accurate version of her in future. Larian, please give my lady her leather armour back or maybe even a justicar outfit!

3. Ignores her BG1/2 alignment, motivations and twists her original epilogue.

Now I do appreciate BG3 deliberately assumes that the events of BG1/BG2 are a little bit fluid, which Jaheria confirms this when she talks about the bards that tell stories of her slaying gods or bedding them depending on which one you listen to. But the game goes onto confirm certain events in Viconia's history that don't really make sense:

A.) The game confirms that Viconia did travel with the Bhaalspawn but not for the entirety of the game. Minsc informs you that after trying to dissect Boo she was expelled from the group. I have to admit this story didn't gel with me at all because it implies Viconia is some sort of chaotic evil idiot (reminder: Viconia is neutral evil with a 16 INT score and 18 WIS score in BG2) who would deliberately provoke a giant raging berserker man by murdering his beloved pet. Like that's the sort of thing I could see Xzar (who is completely and utterly mad) doing but not Viconia. What benefit would she get out of it? Maybe it would be a good tribute for Shar but that would be a pretty short term benefit. In fact in BG2 Viconia offers begrudging respect to Minsc for his effectiveness in battle, she knows he's powerful and she wants to be on the right side of that. Minsc for his part does what he does with many of the female characters, particularly in BG2 and makes her a proxy substitute for Dynaheir offering to protect her. That's not to say she won't insult people (Aerie and Jaheria or characters who she perceives as weak often get the brunt of it) but she's generally smart enough to stay out of an actual fight. Important to note that in any of NPC conflicts that end in a fight in BG1/2 (e.g. Kivan, Ajantis, Keldorn) it's never Viconia that's starts the fight.

B.) The Waterdeep cult.

In Viconia's epilogue, which you only get if you kept her for the end of Throne of Bhaal and you didn't romance her, Viconia goes on to do a few things which you can see below (obviously massive spoilers for BG2) :

So it feels like Larian has taken the first part of this ending but nothing else, which really leaves a lot of questions. We know Shar isn't entirely happy with Viconia based on her diary entries so why is Shar still giving powers to a woman that basically killed a whole bunch of her followers? Why is Viconia still working for a goddess that hates her? Why is she so accepting of Shar's plot to groom Shadowheart as her replacement? Why on earth hasn't Viconia got the fuck out of dodge, which is pretty much what she has been shown to do in the past? And this comes neatly onto my next point.

4. Viconia is just a plot device for Shadowheart.

I love Shadowheart and I love her arc but honestly Viconia being the Mother Superior just felt like a way of inserting her into the game in a way that didn't really fit especially when Viconia's diaries in BG3 show that she knows that Shar intends for Shadowheart to essentially replace her as one of her prominent followers/chosen. The whole plot ignores two critical points about Viconia and her backstory:

Firstly the reason Viconia left the Underdark in the first place was because she refused to sacrifice a child to Lloth and Lloth turning her brother into a drider after he saved her from being sacrificed. Now Viconia is many things, she's self serving, cruel and dedicated to her own survival at the expense of anything and anyone else (quintessential neutral evil through and through) but at the same time she threw away her position, caused the downfall of her house and got most of her family murdered to save a child. You're telling me she would then willingly go along with Shar's plan to deliberate plan to kidnap and repeatedly torture a child for YEARS whilst also training said child to replace her? My girl doesn't have many lines in the sand but harming children definitely seems like one of them. I actually wandered whether Shadowheart not liking to harm children / prefers saving them is not just about her being a secret Selunite but also a potential a hint of Viconia's influence.

Secondly, that plot seems to ignores Viconia's other primary driver, which is to survive: it's why she leaves the Underdark, it's why she travels with the Bhaalspawn, it's why she worships Shar and it's why she murders an entire cabal of Shar's followers after one person betrayed her. Now if we ignore that she has qualms about children, you're telling me that she would instead essentially train her replacement to be an amazing cleric who is 99% likely to murder her? I'm pretty sure Viconia would have tried to kill Shadowheart way before her becoming a justicar or simply skipped town as she has done before.

The alternative?

Personally I would have liked to have seen Viconia ultimately involved in a plot to overthrow the Mother Superior or maybe doing something even crazier like going after Shar herself out of revenge following her fall from grace after the events of the Waterdeep cult. Maybe she works with the Absolute to get her revenge and keep her divine powers - hell who better to help Ketheric with the Nightsong in Shar's temple then an ex priestess of Shar?

If not the Absolute then Shar's got plenty of enemies and Viconia has converted before. Maybe she could have joined the team to achieve a particular goal while giving fans of the original series the opportunity to have one of the original evil characters to join the crew. I would have loved to see the contrast with Minthara who is still fairly fresh from leaving drow society and a complete blunt instrument compared to Viconia's more subtle ways. Maybe Viconia would take the paladin under her wing, maybe introduce her to a new patron god (something I don't think is ever explained is how Minthara still retains her divine powers given neither Lloth or the Absolute are fueling them anymore). Shevarash the elven god of revenge, would be a fantastic fit for both of their back stories (which would also be a nice little throw back to Viconia's heated / sometimes fatal arguments with Kivan in BG1) presuming that Viconia could get over her disdain for the elven pantheon by that point in the timeline. The fireworks with Jaheria of course would be grand while Minsc I feel would be very conflicted given his mind's tendancy, as noted above, to sub in any female magic user as Dynaheir.

[kemendin]

Epilogue

Or, I finished my first playthrough of BG3 and had many emotions (still processing) and many thoughts (also still processing), so here are some Kem ramblings on chosen endings and what happens post-game in Dhamari canon. Under cut because major spoilers of course!

So, for anyone curious, here's how things turned out, and these are fairly unsurprising I'd imagine:

Astarion did not ascend. I tried it for kicks, and I hated his ascended self lol. And Dhamari wouldn't have gone for the 'replace one tyrant with another' idea.

Gale did not claim godhood, BUT nor did he actually give the crown to Mystra - it was left in the sea. As Dhamari said, "If Mystra wants it, she can damn well fish it out herself."

Wyll became the Blade of Avernus, and went romping back to the Hells with Karlach. Go be badasses, guys!!

Lae'zel became the new Comet, and went sailing off to be the saviour of her people.

Shadowheart turned her back on Shar and went off to explore Faerûn and her new faith in Selûne (and got custody of the owlbear).

As for Dhamari and Gale... I had to do a lot of pondering on their ending, both in terms of in-game choices and how things ACTUALLY play out in my brain. While I’m very entertained by the idea of ‘Professor Dekarios’ I don’t think Dhamari is cut out for city life. So the short answer is, I went with the ‘I’ll marry you but I won’t live in Waterdeep’ option and they go off adventuring again instead.

The long version is, of course, more complicated:

Initially Dhamari is all 'yes of course I'll marry you and go back to Waterdeep with you' because frankly he's got no idea what to do with himself post-Netherbrain destruction. But that goes kinda not too well overall, for several reasons:

a) He really has no idea what he's getting into with the whole wedding business, because drow don't DO that. So while Gale's making all these plans and sending out multitudes of invitations, Dhamari's list consists of Wyll, who can't come, and Jaheira, who probably could, and he's just very overwhelmed by all the grand ceremony notions.

b) He's jealous of now having to share Gale with Tara and Mrs Dekarios and probably half of Waterdeep, because Gale's of course rather well known, and even more so after saving Baldur's Gate. Gale knows everyone and Dhamari knows no one, and he feels like he's being perceived as this odd little drow blemish on the local wizard celebrity (whether or not this is actually true is up for debate).

c) After the relief of no longer having a brain death sentence and the pressure of saving the world wears off, and he's had a little chill time, he starts feeling incredibly restless again. He's never had a point in his life till now where he wasn't scared or in danger or both - he has no idea how to live a life that doesn't involve fighting to survive. Unfortunately, in absence of obvious threats, he ends up on some mental level fighting Gale instead - lashing out with confusions and uncertainties he doesn't know how to cope with.

So within a month or so things get very tense between them, because Dhamari is rather terrible at communicating his problems to other people, but eventually they're forced to hash all this out. The end results are: a much smaller wedding than originally planned, Gale declining the offer to take a teaching post at Blackstaff Academy, and soon after the wedding they pack up and go adventuring again for a while so they can spend some time together that's ACTUALLY just the two of them.

At some point - dunno yet if it's pre- or post-epilogue reunion get-together - Dhamari visits with Jaheira, and she invites him to join the Harpers. Dhamari's felt a sort of half-conscious connection with the Harpers for a WHILE now, since finding the executed patrol of them in Grymforge (that's a whole other ramble/fic in process lol) and so when Jaheira makes this offer he's like '...huh yeah I could do that'. It gives him a much needed sense of purpose in life, gets him out and about and not quite so latched onto Gale every hour of the day. So when he and Gale take breaks from adventures and chill in Waterdeep for a bit, Gale can be doing his wizardy stuff with his wizardy friends, and Dhamari does whatever Harper business needs doing around the city.

So things aren't always perfect between them, and frankly these two will always find something to argue about because they ARE such different people. But they love each other, and they learn from each other, and as far as they're concerned - it's a happy ending.

Random tidbit - I really like that in the route I chose, Gale retains the mark of the orb. I think that despite what it was - a death sentence - Dhamari's actually rather fond of it aesthetically, and even sees it as a reminder - to both of them - that Gale survived. That Gale chose Dhamari, chose life, and it was the right choice.