#anyway the way gale creates magic from the weave with his hands with his voice it's music it's poetry to rogier

[sadmages]

Durge thoughts

[fantasyheroine]

Written in the Stars - Chapter 3

Pairings: Astarion x Tav

Rating: Explicit

Summary: For months Astarion and Tav have been growing closer and both of them would consider the other a good friend at this point. But is friendship really what either of them truly want? One night has the potential to change their relationship forever. Will the two of them be able to overcome the hurdles a new romance throws their way while they navigate the impending threat of the Netherbrain? Or will past trauma's come back to haunt them permanently? Get swept up in this whirlwind of passion, love, and fear as the characters of Baldur's Gate 3 take on the Cult of the Absolute.

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Chapter 3: Orders are for Slaves

Word Count: 11,391

Warnings: Lots of dialogue. Heavy angst. Some gruesome imagery. Crack. Gale.

Song: P!nk - Please Don't Leave Me

A/N: I am so sorry that this chapter took 3 weeks to publish! Life got a little crazy there for a bit and I was kept quite busy. I hope that the length and quality of this chapter can make up for its delay. If you haven't been doing so already, I suggest listening to the song before reading the chapter and then directly after. I put a lot of thought and effort into picking the right piece and it serves as both a preview and summary. Anyway enjoy the excessively long chapter!

Tav was left staring after Astarion as he departed the small clearing. She let her longbow clatter to the ground before kneeling on the forest floor. She pounded the earth with her fists, causing little pieces of dry, brown dirt to come flying up around her. *Damn him…! Damn him! Damn him! Damn him!* She wanted to hate him. Wanted to hunt him down and make him feel her pain! She hated the way he had so easily turned her anger into sorrow. Hated the way he had just left her here! Alone… Confused… Heartbroken… Nothing made sense anymore… What was she supposed to do…? Familiar feelings came creeping back into her mind and she considered them. It would be easy. She could let herself slip back into old habits. She knew how to keep them concealed. No one would be any the wiser. *No Tav! You've come this far. You don't have to do that anymore.* She shook her head trying to clear the thoughts from her mind. *Come on. Pick yourself up. You can do it.* Tav pushed her palms further into the dirt. *Feel the earth around you. What can you hear? What can you smell?* The forest held the scent of ash but the air itself smelt like lavender. The tell tale signs of wild magic crackled like electricity. Little pops could be heard on the wind as Thaniel worked at healing the lands. If she had any hair on her arms, it would have been standing up as the weave sent jolts down her spine. Far above the trees, the cry of a falcon echoed. Tav’s head lifted up in surprise.

“Fenrir!”

She lifted her arm to the sky and the fearsome bird dived. Its descent was fast. The kind of speed you’d expect to see from the quickest bird of prey. The speckled creature extended its talons as it approached and landed on the proffered perch. The bracers she donned as part of her armor kept her skin protected from the sharp points now firmly planted into the leather. Tav reached a hand up to the raptor’s head and gave the blueish-black feathers a little scratch. The avian let out a quick chirp and leaned into her touch. She continued to comb through its feathers as she spoke, using the language of animals.

“You're a good boy Fenrir. I suppose Ursa sent you to come bring me back to camp?”

Fenrir clicked his tongue in response. Tav withdrew her hand and gave him her full attention. His voice was deep and carried the classic accent of Baldurian animals. It had always fascinated her how an animal's voice reflected their place of origin. Fenrir had come from the Cloak Wood forest. She herself had come from the High Forest. And while she had been the one to hatch him and teach him speech, he had still ended up with the inflections of Baldur’s Gate. The bird gazed at her with his black beady eyes.

“She is concerned. You have been gone all day.”

Tav sighed. Leave it to her animal companions to be the ones to check up on her first. They had the tendency of being nosy and often missed the subtleties of when she didn’t want to be disturbed. She looked away from her familiar.

“Yeah, I know… I just… had some things I had to work through.”

Fenrir tilted his head to the side in consideration of her words. He had seen his elf approach the pale one the night before. And while that wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, the distress he’d picked up on the following morning was unusual. His next words were meant to test the waters.

“The fanged elf consumes your mind often.”

Tav let out a small chuckle. It seemed Fenrir had her figured out. She lifted a finger to boop his beak.

“You always were the most observant out of all of us.”

The avian playfully nipped at her finger.

“You know as well as I, that it is my nature to notice that which others do not.”

Tav shook her head, lips curling up into her first true smile of the day.

“I suppose it is. Tell me then, what would you do if your chosen mate did not wish to be with you?”

Fenrir’s tail fanned out behind him in displeasure. The way his eyes narrowed looked like how a person’s brow did when it was furrowed.

“He rejected your mating display?”

Tav picked up on the change in body language immediately. *Oh boy. Here we go again.* Fenrir had made it clear through many a conversation that he did not approve of Astarion. She had tried to convince her friend that the elf really was who she wanted, but Fenrir always took the stance that she could find a better partner than the rogue. Her smile turned sheepish as she attempted to soothe some of his agitation.

“Kind of…”

A series of angry beak clicks sounded at the answer and Fenrir fanned his tail wider. He lifted one foot off of Tav’s arm and stretched his neck up high.

“I do not understand. You are a most excellent hunter. Why would he reject you?”

He paused and assessed the female in front of him. A sort of knowing look sparked in his glassy orbs.

“Did you make sure to bow to him before displaying your prowess?”

Tav wanted to laugh but bit back the sound. Of course he would think elf relationships worked like falcon ones. He had only been with her for five years after all, and during that time Tav had never attempted flirting with anybody. It was childish of her to ever think that Fenrir would actually understand the dynamics between her and Astarion. She barely understood them herself. There was no way a young and inexperienced bird would get it. Despite holding back her giggles, she couldn't help the teasing that came out in her tone as she indulged in the silly line of questioning.

“Ah, that must have been what it was. I forgot the bow.”

Fenrir clicked his beak again and ruffled his feathers.

“How many times have we spoken on this, hatch mother? Without the bow, he has no way of knowing your intentions are to mate. Do it again. This time, remember the bow. He will not reject you.”

It was growing harder to not laugh. Her falcon was attempting to instruct her on how to win Astarion’s heart. The whole situation was ridiculous. Gods, how she wished it could be as easy as Fenrir was making it seem. If all it took for Astarion to accept her advances was a bow, she would have given him the most elaborate bow in all of history. Hells, she might have even attempted a low curtsy. But it wasn’t even close to that simple. And after the last twenty four hours, the two of them were currently standing on cracking ice. She tried not to let her sadness show. All animals were empaths, and exposing her emotions to her companion would only serve to make him more agitated. She did her best to keep the hurt out of her voice as she asked her next question. Fenrir had so confidently stated that should she try a second time, with the proper procedure, Astarion would not reject her. The notion was worth asking about.

“And how can you be so sure he’ll accept me if I try again?”

There was a very real possibility that her bird had picked up on something she hadn’t. At his core, Fenrir was incredibly observant. It’s what made him an excellent predator and familiar. There was every chance that he had noticed something about Astarion that would give indicators that the man liked her back. The animal took a moment to smooth out a misplaced feather before he responded.

“The fool has been performing courtship attempts since the moment we met him, but has been going about them in poor fashion.”

Tav’s smile morphed to confusion. What had Fenrir seen that gave him that impression?

“What do you mean? What courtship displays has he been attempting?”

He looked back up at her.

“For one, he constantly preens around you. I once watched him delicately lay every feather on his head piece by piece for over an hour of time, before he approached you. You did not notice his attempts.”

Astarion had painstakingly arranged his hair just so before engaging with her? She had always thought his messy curls simply existed in such a state of constant perfection. It had never crossed her mind that he did it on purpose. Shit. What else had Fenrir noticed? The raptor seemed to pick up on her unasked question because he offered up another of his observations.

“He dances for you. Granted, it is not a very good dance, but he does try.”

Ok that one had her puzzled. What in the Hells did he mean by dancing?

“Care to elaborate on that one, friend?”

More beak clicking hit her ears and she watched as Fenrir shifted from foot to foot.

“The gestures he makes with his hands when he speaks, and the way he walks. They look like a bad dance. He does it to try and get your attention. The buffoon hasn’t seemed to realize, though, that he always has your attention. Honestly, I do not understand what you see in him, hatch mother. He does not seem to be the brightest or most confident bird.”

That observation was curious too. Astarion had forever maintained this air of flamboyance to him, but it hadn’t occurred to her that maybe he dialed it up a few notches when in her presence. *Why would he do that?* Surely he knew that she found him interesting regardless of the dramatics. Maybe Fenrir was right and the confidence he portrayed was actually false. She had caught glimpses of his insecurities in the past. Most frequently when they were still getting to know each other. But it had been months since those early days spent travelling. She had hoped that he’d feel comfortable enough around her by now to not have to mask as much… But maybe his mask had just gotten better and those moments of genuineness she had thought she’d seen were simply a new act he’d been putting on. Or maybe he was performing in a vie for her attention. There were certainly plenty of people at camp who prevented her from spending all of her time with him. She shook her head again. She would have to think on all of this later. Right now there was a falcon waiting for her response. She gave Fenrir a joking smile again.

“He would make a pretty lousy falcon wouldn’t he?”

“Yes. His mating displays are abysmal. It is a wonder he ever gained your attention. Most females would not have looked twice at him.”

Instantly, a memory popped into her head. She was talking to Arron, the druid trader from the Emerald Grove. It was right after the fight with the goblins at the gate. The fight where she, Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart had conveniently stumbled across Aradin and his band trying to regain access into the druidic sanctuary. They had been warily welcomed into the Grove ,and she had been selling some of the unnecessary things their adventuring party had come across in the few days since crashing onto the ravaged beach, when her eyes caught a motion behind the Halfling merchant. Her gaze had met Astarion’s as the seller appraised an agate she’d found along the shoreline. He’d given her a sly smirk and a cheeky wink, then slipped the trader’s pouch of gold into his pocket off the table it had been sitting upon. His boldness had made her heart flutter and the deftness in which he had swiped the coin made her want to learn more about him. Covertly she’d made a glance at the enchanted longbow leaning against the broken stone obelisk where Arron had set up shop before enthusiastically engaging the short man in a barter for a pair of missile snaring gloves.

She had intentionally looked away as her companion took advantage of her skilled distraction and was pleasantly surprised when Astarion had presented her with the ranged weapon that night at camp. She had assumed he would keep it for himself considering he had proficiency in the item as well, but he had revealed it to her with a flourish and some off handed comment about how she had good taste. The unexpected generosity had found her searching beyond the rogue’s blatant good looks and disarming charm. She glanced to the side where that same bow lay discarded after her fight with him earlier in the day. It wasn’t the strongest armament in her arsenal by any means and she barely used it nowadays, but for some reason she had chosen to use it today out of her entire collection. Sigh. Another thing to think about later. Her head turned back to Fenrir. The falcon was watching her with calculating eyes.

“Perhaps I see something in him that you don’t.”

The avian once again ruffled his feathers and turned up his beak in disdain.

“Hmph. I still think him a fool and poor choice.”

This time a little laugh did escape her at the statement. She reached her fingers up again to scratch the back of his neck.

“I know, buddy. But it’s my choice, and I like him. I suggest you learn to like him too.”

Fenrir did the bird equivalent of rolling his eyes and pecked at her gloved hand. She playfully grabbed his beak between her thumb and pointer finger and lightly shook his head from side to side.

“Why don’t you go tell Ursa I’ll be back in a bit. As soon as I have collected all of my arrows I’ll start heading that way.”

Fenrir recovered from the good-natured assault and lowered his head as his body pitched forward, preparing for flight. He gave a few test flaps of his wings before offering Tav a final warning.

“Very well. Do not linger or I shall come find you again.”

Tav’s face wrinkled in amusement as she raised her arm into the sky, giving Fenrir a better position to take off.

“Go. I’ll return before you know it.”

The answer seemed to satisfy him and with a big flap of his strong wings, Fenrir shot up towards the clouds. Tav watched him for a moment as he soared through the air before letting her body slump heavily. The falcon had successfully disrupted her negative thoughts but now with him gone again she was left to face the aftermath of her fight with Astarion. All around the clearing were scattered arrows that she had fired at him during their faux dance. High up in the trees were more arrows that she had shot in practice before he had snuck up on her. And then there was the arrow she had fired into the brush where he’d been watching her. Ugh. Collecting all of them was going to be a pain. Under normal circumstances she might have just left them lying around and come back for them the next day, but part of her plan for when she returned to camp was to start packing up her things in preparation for the trip to Baldur’s Gate. With more stress in her body than she’d had in days, Tav climbed to her feet.

It took roughly thirty minutes to gather up every stray missile and by the time she was done the sun had well and truly set. She estimated that there was roughly an hour of light left before the sky turned completely dark. From what she could recall from the morning, it had taken her longer than an hour to find this copse of trees and she still had no idea which direction she had taken to get here. Her head lifted to where Fenrir had disappeared. He had come from the west and slightly south of her current position. There was nothing around her that she recognized, but maybe if she moved in the trajectory that her familiar had come from something would eventually stick out. It was her best bet. With a dejected heart and dragging feet, she began the trek back to camp.

Astarion’s head was spinning as he sauntered away. All of what had just occurred had been completely confusing. Never before had he seen Tav so angry. In the entirety of their time together this was the first instance in which she had gotten truly mad at him. It had frightened him to a new level. That part of his brain still stuck in survival mode after years of torture, had been screaming that she was going to kill him. She could have if she’d wanted to. While Tav may not have ever claimed to be a monster hunter, there was no doubt that she was a deadly huntress of a different kind. The kind that could have shot an arrow straight through his heart before he could even blink. Yes, she could have killed him. And it was a surprise she hadn’t. He wondered, then, if he would have killed her, should the roles have been reversed… *No.* He didn’t think he could kill her even if she turned into a Mindflayer… The answer as to why, however, continued to elude him. He bit his lip, fangs pricking flesh, but the sensation went unnoticed. There was something here that he wasn’t grasping. Something that he was failing to understand. But for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what that missing piece was.

He chewed on his bottom lip as he racked his brain, trying to hold onto whatever slivers of enlightenment he could grasp. But like silken thread, those potentially eye-opening thoughts slipped through his fingers. Astarion let out a huff of frustration. Why did everything with her have to be so damn confusing!? It was his job to be able to decode people. Understand their motives so he could manipulate them. He was good at it. But then she came into his life and now nothing made sense anymore. All those years of building skills in seduction and perception, tossed to the side, out of reach, when anything concerning her came up. It was truly infuriating. He had wanted his relationship with her to be simple. Sex for protection. She was strong, and he’d been in need of that strength. Getting her to fall for him should have been easy. A basic matter of deceptive romancing that left him in complete control over everything. But she had changed the script. Used lines he wasn’t familiar with, and taken actions that went against all he thought he knew… And now…? They were stuck; her angry, him stumped. There was no playbook he could reference for going forward. No persona he could portray to try and get things back on track. She was resistant to it all. 

So far his life with her went bounds beyond uncharted territory. It was like he was a child again. Experiencing the world for the first time. How many things had she opened his eyes to? How many incorrect notions had she dispelled? His forehead crinkled, a solid crease forming between his brows. It was awful and uncomfortable, and he wished again that things between them could just be easy. Slowly, his mind began drifting to thoughts of ‘what now’. They had fought. Their first ever actual fight in all of the long months spent travelling together. The only kind of fights he’d been in before were those for survival. The kind where it was kill or be killed. He had never experienced a domestic fight. What was supposed to happen when two companions fought? She hadn’t killed him, and he hadn’t killed her. What move would she make next? She could tell him to leave and never come back. Dismiss him from the party for ever daring to defy her. Or worse, she could leave him. Had she gone back to camp the moment he left her standing in that clearing, packed up her things, and called it quits? Astarion’s feet faltered. She wouldn’t do that, would she? Just leave him after everything they had been through…? His body started to ache. Each ridgid muscle turning taut as they begged him to turn around and run back to her. Was she still there? Was she waiting for him…? Or had he lost her forever?

Something cold and wet hit his cheek. It traced the outline of his chiseled face, then dripped off his chin. It made the softest splash as it hit his old, worn shoe. Only the ears of an elf could have caught the noise. His head turned down and he stared at the damp spot it had made. Then another one fell. It also landed with the tiniest splash. How long had it been since he’d last cried? It had to have occurred somewhere around the same time Cazador had made the last revision to the scars adorning his back. But those tears weren’t like these. Then, they were from physical pain. Now…? They were from agony. He hadn’t felt such anguish since the night he’d dug himself out of his own grave. The night he had become a slave… More cold tears dripped onto his shoes and he dropped to his knees. His body shook with the weight of the emotions he felt. Tav was going to leave him. One way or another he was going to lose Tav. *Oh Gods!* He was going to have to go the rest of the way to Baldur’s Gate alone. Find a cure for the tadpole alone. Face Cazador ab-so-lutely alone. His face hit the dirt as his body collapsed from under him. Dry earth turned to mud from the sheer amount of liquid pooling from his eyes. He was alone. Again! This was worse than dying. Worse than being turned. Worse than the tadpole in his head. He was going to have to figure things out by himself. Manage on his own like he always had. He might as well go crawling back to his old master. It’s not like that would feel any different than this.

It felt like time was frozen as he lay face down on the ground. It took many long minutes, but he willed himself to stop crying. He didn’t want to think about any of this anymore. If she left, he’d deal with it. If she cast him out, he would deal with it. Carefully, Astarion climbed back to his feet. That little spark of life that had resided inside of him his entire life as a spawn kept him moving forwards. He would not fail. He would not fall. Not over some insignificant woman. He was a free man now. A free man had endless opportunities. And if he could kill Cazador? Take his master’s place in the ascension? Well, he could do anything he wanted then. He didn’t need Tav. He was better off without her. She had only been holding him back. Making him weak by forcing him to play hero. He would be fine without her… Wouldn't he?

That feeling in his chest was hurting even more than before. Again, he lifted his hand to rub over the spot where he felt the pain. And again, his palm landed over his undying heart. It was strange; to experience sensation underneath his left pectoral after a lifetime of nothing ever being there. He briefly wondered if the effects of the tadpole had made their way into his body. He wouldn’t put it past the little parasite to start causing more issues. Perhaps these things he was experiencing in his chest were the start of ceremorphosis. He supposed he’d have to ask Halsin to take a look at him when he made it back to camp. That is, if he didn’t turn overnight… Speaking of night, he figured he would have to find a place to settle down. He had decided that he wasn’t going to return until at least morning. There was too big of a possibility that he’d get back and find Tav’s tent packed up and gone. The sight would likely break him again, and he would need time to prepare for the act of indifference he would be forced to perform for the others should his fears be true.

However, wandering the healing shadow-cursed lands would do him no good. He needed to find someplace to bed down. Some location where he could think, where he could plan. A safe spot where no one could see him trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered world. Astarion considered his possibilities. There was always the House of Healing and various other buildings in the destroyed town of Reithwin. But minus the old hospital, all of those places were rotten. His nose wrinkled. He didn’t much fancy the idea of resting among the smell of decaying wood. And the safety of those locations were severely lacking. He would be exposed. So where could he go then? A brief glance at his current surroundings gave him his answer. The towers at Moonrise weren’t too far off. And the structural integrity of the fortress was intact. Plus should any cultists be lingering about, they’d likely not be in the area where their leader had fallen. *The towers it is then.* Astarion shook off the dirt that had collected on his clothes and wiped away the mud caked on his cheeks. His eyes were still wet but he tried not to pay attention to them. He was fine. He was going to be fine. A quick adjustment to the direction in which he had been walking found him making his way to the towers where mere days ago the party had defeated one of the three leaders of the Absolute.

Tav made it back to camp right as everyone was finishing their dinner. Her stomach growled at the smell of food. She hadn’t eaten all day. Hadn’t even thought to pack a snack before charging out of camp like a Deep Rothé. She approached the blazing fire that was strategically positioned in the center of the temporary home. Gale offered her a hesitant smile when she was within range of his sight. It seemed Karlach had shared a warning about her previous iciness and he was the only one who hadn’t scattered at her reappearance. She did her best to return the wizard’s smile as she plopped herself into the seat beside him.

“You’re back?”

His tone was cautious. She couldn’t exactly blame him for it either. Gale, despite what he would have people believe, was relatively tenderhearted. Whenever a confrontation broke out in camp he’d casually avoid getting involved unless necessary. She removed the quiver and longbow from the notch on her back and set them to the side of the homemade bench the two of them sat on. She let out a long, drawn out sigh before responding.

“Yeah… I’m back.”

Gale quizzically inspected her. Nothing about her appearance seemed amis and at the very least she had left camp protected. Tav was suddenly grateful that humans didn’t have dark vision; for she was sure that if they did, her companion would have spotted her bloodshot eyes. She tried to change the subject away from the looming questions that clearly sat at the tip of the man’s tongue.

“Is there any dinner left?”

Luckily her redirection worked as Gale was now getting up and making his way towards the cooking pot on the main table set up near the fire. He took the container over to the cooking irons staked into the ground near a less fire intense portion of the conflagration and hung the pot on one of the various hooks. He summoned a mage hand to begin stirring whatever the receptacle contained and took up the seat to her left again.

“You’ll be happy to know that I saved some specifically for you. It wasn’t easy. Lae’zel was particularly ravenous tonight and I had to beat her off with a wooden spoon, but I figured, after your long day in the woods, you’d come back with an empty stomach and an eagerness to consume the first thing put in front of you. If you’re wondering, tonight’s dinner is a fragrant stew comprised of glowcap mushrooms, bluecap mushrooms, peas, and grilled goat. All things we had here at camp. I don’t want you thinking I went and spent our money without your valued input. Besides, we have collected more than enough supplies to last us until we get to the city. I’ll have you know, I took stock today and structured our rations into a finely detailed list. It is organized by food group with the amounts of each item cataloged in the classic tally stick inventory management systematization that is known amongst all shopkeeps. I even added a note to the level of freshness for our provisions through the use of…”

Tav interrupted whatever useless detail he planned to inform her of next. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind today to be invested in Gale’s peculiarities. She just wanted to eat and get on with the group meeting she had planned. She attempted to put on an air of appreciation as she spoke, not wanting her friend to pick up on the fact that she really didn’t give a damn about his list.

“Thank you Gale. I’m sure your list is very comprehensive.”

Her placating smile barely reached her cheeks and the wizard seemed to pick up on the fact that she was merely attempting to appease him. His smile took on a more apologetic look than his typical cheery one and he started waggling a finger in her direction.

“Right. Food first. I’ll acquiesce, I get carried away sometimes, but we can always go over the list later, so one bowl of stew, seeeeeeeerved promptly.”

He stood from his seat again and gathered up a modestly sized wooden bowl and iron spoon. The mage hand used the serving spoon it was stirring with to scoop up a glob of the stew and dump it into the dinnerware in Gale’s hands. The human once again returned to her side, offering up the meal.

“Careful, my friend. I should warn you, it is quite hot. Last thing you need today is to be burning your tongue on your supper.”

Tav gratefully took the bowl, blowing on its contents. The food smelled fantastic, which led to her stomach growling again. She supposed their party had been pretty spoiled recently with all of Gale’s elaborate homemade cooking. Most nights everyone was too exhausted after a day full of fighting and adventuring for much effort to be put into dinner. But since winning the battle at Moonrise, the wizard had been going all out on what he prepared. The night before he had provided everyone with a three course meal that Tav was sure had left her armor fastening a bit too tightly. Now he had made a hearty stew from scratch. She took a tentative spoonful, testing the temperature, before diving in for more. There was no debate that Gale was an incredible chef. Immense gratitude settled into her chest at the fact that he had taken up the duty of cooking so willingly back during those early days of adventuring together. Had meal planning been left up to her, everyone would have been eating cheese and dried meats every night. The thick liquid warmed some of the coolness in her heart and she turned back to her companion with more willingness to engage with him.

“So… What did everyone do today while I was gone?”

It wasn’t often that she left the other’s to their own devices. A bit of a micromanaging tendency she had, but everyone seemed to value the fact that she made the majority of the decisions. They all came from such different places and backgrounds that her ability to remain level-headed in whatever situation the group found themselves in, had caused everyone to unanimously appoint her their leader. Since then, she had been calling the shots and giving directions. Most of the time she didn’t mind the responsibility, but days like today were the few instances where the multitude of expectations sent her way became overwhelming. Still, it would be interesting to know if anything had gone completely horribly wrong in her absence. Gale tapped his chin at her question.

“Let’s see… Ah! Halsin spent the day talking to the plants. To my ears, it sounded reminiscent of a motivational speech one would give shy children. I’m not sure exactly how the conversation went, but I did see the most lovely of violets today. They are typically not native to this area, as you likely well know, so I am sure his hand had a play in helping it bloom. Did you know that the citizens of Waterdeep regard violets with the highest of prestige? There is an entire holiday celebrated annually in which violets are planted. It is known as Ahghairon’s Day, who, you may not know, was Waterdeep’s first Lord. Truly fascinating stuff, I assure you.”

Tav pinched the bridge of her nose. That was not the kind of information she had been looking for. The beginnings of a headache started to throb in her temples. She moved her hand to run her fingers through her hair. That stubborn strand that liked to stick to her forehead moved at the motion then flittered back down into its preferred spot. Her tone was sarcastic as she tried again to get anything useful out of her friend.

“Did anyone else do anything of note? Or did you all gather to watch Halsin talk to his plants?”

Gale let out a small chuckle at the snipe.

“Not up for discussing the intricacies of Waterdeep holidays I see. Not to worry, there is plenty more to conversate about that may be of more interest to you. Wyll and Shadowheart engaged in quite the debate today. Shadowheart was of the mind that proper penmanship is conducted with a limited amount of ink on the quill. Wyll however, felt that a decent amount of ink is needed to ensure the legibility of one’s writing. I intervened, and being the resident academic, suggested that they both write the same lines, on a spare piece of parchment, side by side, and allow the rest of the camp to be the judge. Overall, more people agreed that Wyll’s handwriting was neater than Shadowheart’s, implying that more ink is indeed the favorable option. Admittedly, I fear, I am going to have to more elaborately investigate the particulars of this matter, as today’s experiment was a rather pitibale trial in the grand scheme of scientific discovery.”

Gods. Now she did have a headache. With the last bit of mental effort she could muster, Tav sent out a tadpole SOS to all of her companions.

“Someone please come save me from Gale.”

The wizard was still chattering on about the proper ways in which to employ the scientific method but she had wholeheartedly turned her ears off by this point. Her brain tingled at the incoming message sent her way, and Shadowheart’s voice washed over her mind.

“I had to put up with him all day. The very least you could do after running away this morning is take one for the team.”

She shot back the image of a raised middle finger and felt Shadowheart’s laughter. She opened her mind back up to the rest of those infected.

“Fine then. Don’t come over here to save me, come because I have something important to discuss.”

The noise of rustling tent flaps could be heard and soon all of her friends, save Astarion, were gathering around her. Gale cut off his monologuing in a sudden wheeze of air as Karlach affectionately thunked him on the back of his head.

“Hush up sparkle hands. Tav’s got something she wants to tell us.”

Tav stood up so that everyone could see her. Wyll had been kind enough to grab Halsin who was unable to receive tadpole communications due to not having been infected with a Mindflayer parasite. She looked at all of her friends who had followed her this far. Each one of them had fought by her side time and time again, defending her, risking their lives for her. Once again she would have to ask them to join her in an almost undoubtedly life threatening quest. Instinctually, her eyes searched for Astarion. He had become her partner in crime, the one she looked to for confidence when she felt unsure or insecure. He gave her the comfort she needed to be brave as she knew that despite what the other’s might say or do, he was always on her side. Her seeking came up short. He was not here. She scanned the treeline in hopes that he’d come swaggering out of them with his typical smirk. Had he heard her tadpole request? The psionic powers only worked within a certain range. Was he too far to hear her or had he simply chosen not to come? She spent another moment keeping her eyes trained on the horizon but a cough had her reluctantly turning back to the group. With a deep breath, she mustered up the courage to start her speech.

“We have been through so much together. It’s hard to imagine that our journey has taken us this far. Many of us had hoped we’d have found a cure by now. Moonrise was the promise we were all holding onto. I’m sorry that it did not turn out the way we wanted. But we’ve learned valuable information. We now know that somewhere in Baldur’s Gate lies a Netherbrain in wait. We also know how to potentially defeat it. Three netherstones, for three chosen. Combined they will kill the brain. Or make it possible to kill it. The hope is, that with its death, the tadpoles will cease to function and we will be cured while ultimately saving The Sword Coast from a full on Mindflayer invasion.”

Tav took another deep breath. This was the part she’d been dreading her whole walk back to camp. The part where she would have to ask each of them to come with her. To join her in facing an ancient illithid god. They would most likely die. The odds of walking away from that final battle practically nonexistent. Part of her wished she could face the horror alone. She had come to care for her companions deeply. She didn’t want to have to watch her friends die. But to capture even the slightest chance of success, she would need them. Her chin lifted with deep determination and she looked at all of them in turn. Karlach, the fiery barbarian with a heart of gold. Shadowheart, the recently converted Selûnite with so much life still to live. Gale, the most intelligent academic she’d ever come across who deserved the chance to find the woman of his dreams. One by one she gazed into their eyes. Lae’zel the warrior. Halsin the wise. Wyll the noble. Her voice was resolute as the question finally formed on her lips.

“Who will come with me?”

The air went still with the weight of the task ahead of them. Karlach was the first to move. Without breaking eye contact she stepped up to put herself directly in front of Tav. Her large, red hand came to rest on the smaller woman’s shoulder.

“I’ll follow you to the end of the road, soldier.”

Some of the anxiety in her stomach dissolved and she pulled her ferocious best friend into a hug. Karlach was with her. Tav pulled away and glanced at the rest of her compatriots. Lae’zel stepped up next. The Githyanki woman sneered, her small, upturned nose flaring.

“This creature is enemy number one of my kind. I would be a coward if I were to turn away now.”

Despite her harsh response, Tav smiled. The green female’s mannerisms were a hard pill to swallow at first, but the ranger had found herself beginning to enjoy the unique qualities of the fighter’s personality. Plus she felt a bit of pride in the role she had played in helping the young Gith grow from judgemental, astral soldier to the more nuanced woman she now was. Tav held out a hand for Lae’zel to take and the two of them clasped wrists in a firm sort of handshake. Halsin spoke third and he too moved to put a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Tav, you helped me cure the blight that has haunted my mind for one hundred years. You have brought life back to a land without any, and provided me the opportunity to save my childhood friend. I promised you my aid back in the Grove, and I have no plans of retracting it, no matter how difficult the road ahead may prove to be. My skills are yours to wield”

Tears began pricking behind her lids. Three out of her seven allies had sworn their allegiance to her for a second time. It was overwhelming to be trusted so wholeheartedly. To have so much weight resting upon her small frame. She quickly wiped at the drop of liquid escaping down the bridge of her nose.

“And the rest of you? What do you say?”

Wyll brought a closed fist across his chest in salute to her.

“The Blade is at your service.”

Gale summoned a spark of magic into his hand.

“What’s an adventure without a wizard by your side.”

Shadowheart gave her a snide smile.

“We’ve all come this far. It would be silly to not see it through to the end.”

Tav laughed, flashing her teeth in a wide smile.

“Then pack your things. We head for the city in three days.”

Astarion was pacing around the circular floor of the prison warden’s office. The sound of his tasteful boots scraping against the stone tiling echoed throughout the chamber, making it the only noise to be heard in the raided tower. His back was stiff and his feet were sore. He felt hungry, cranky, and beyond tired. He hadn’t slept last night. Nor did he expect to get any rest this night either. Damn. He picked up a loose stone by his toe and tossed it across the room. It went clattering, creating the grating sound of stone against stone.

“I don’t understand it. First she wants sex, then she wants me. Only for hours later to be shooting arrows at my head! What is a man supposed to think!?”

His shrill, ostentatious voice pierced the veil of quiet that had settled over the space at Moonrise when its ruler had fallen. Spiders retreated back into their webbed cracks and a cockroach skiddled in front of him. He crushed it with a swift stomp. He hated cockroaches. That and rats had been the only things Cazador had ever allowed him to eat. Tav had been the first humanoid being he had ever drank from. Before that fateful night where his hunger had driven him to try and sneakily feast on her, he had been slipping into the wilderness, when he could, to hunt down any animals he could get his claws on. After accidentally revealing himself as a vampire, he and Tav had struck up their every other day arrangement. It still took him off guard that she had so willingly accepted his condition. He grit his teeth.

“I swear to all of the gods within the Nine Hells that I have never met a woman as confounding as her! It’s like the sweet thing doesn’t even know what she actually wants. One moment she is fine with the way things are, and then the next she is telling me she wants our relationship to mean something! I thought it did mean something!”

The speed of his pacing increased and his voice took on a rougher, more angry edge. One of his hands was gesticulating wildly in the air as he continued to process out loud, while the other fiddled with the strings of his ruffled camp shirt.

“I could have given her experiences beyond her wildest imagination, but noooo. She just had to go and make things complicated! Now what am I to do!? Agh! I need input people! I have been mulling over this for hours. Someone please give me something to go off of here so that I can try and make sense of everything.”

Astarion paused in his grumbling speech and tilted his head to the side as if he was listening to a faint voice. Displeasure pooled within his features and he let out an elven slur.

“Timothy, your opinions are absolutely worthless! She hasn’t gone mad! I would have picked up on something like that. The warning signs are always evident months in advance. After all, I’ve seen my fair share of people lose the battle to insanity while locked in Cazador’s prison and I know for a fact that she is not one of them! So somebody else say something…please!”

A cajoling smile settled onto his lips as he spun on his heel and put the back of his hand on his jutted out hip. His opposite knee took on a slight bend as he leaned forwards in a slight bow. His free hand was raised, the last three fingers of the appendage curled inwards while his index and thumb pointed outwards and to the side, respectively.

“Griselleda, darling, what do you think? Am I the one in the wrong here?”

Once again his head tilted as he listened for a response. His hand snapped back to his side at whatever answer he received. He made a dismissive flourish over his shoulder as he swung his body back around to return to his pacing.

“Ugh! You Humans are so medieval. She does not have the plague!”

The sound of sole against floor returned and Astarion completed five laps of the room before shouting irritably at the slumped body of a dead, incredibly hairy, dwarven man that he had placed carefully against one of the walls.

“Helvar, for the love of Gods! Chew with your mouth closed! I am trying to think!”

He glared at the stout corpse then surveyed the other four positioned to sit next to ‘Helvar’. Griselleda, the plump Human woman, wore a bloodied apron that was starting to attract flies. Beside her, Timothy the Deep Gnome, sat slack jawed with a mouthful of maggots. With a sneer, he approached the body of what used to be a good-looking high elven woman and lifted a finger to her bottom lip. He pulled the useless muscle down, then wiggled it in a mock semblance of speech. His voice morphed into a haughty falsetto as he mimed speaking as the woman.

“Well, Astarion. I think you might have hurt her feelings and that’s why she shot at you. She has always been a bit brash and strong headed. Perhaps spending so much time around Karlach has taken her already wild tendencies and turned her into a barbarian of sorts.”

He released the corpse from his grasp and the woman’s head lolled against a stone brick with an audible thump. He strode back across the room and picked up a discarded lock that had already been picked. It was old and about the size of a kiwi. He twiddled the item between his palms as he considered the new idea.

“You make a good point, Margaret. I clearly hurt her. Maybe I have had a part in this whole debacle… Ugh, but that still doesn’t leave me with any answers on what to do about it.”

Suddenly Astarion’s body tensed and he whirled around chucking the lock he’d been holding at the greying head of an older, and very dead, human man. The swinging shackle of the mechanism lodged itself right into the meat of the man’s left eye with a sickening squelch.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it Bernard! Just because you married a wretch, doesn’t make every woman one! I’ll have you know that Tav is lovely to be around! Her wit and charm are more than alluring! And the sound of her voice is that of a siren’s song! I could spend all day listening to her. She wouldn’t even have to talk about anything remotely interesting and I’d be completely engaged…”

His eyes took on a semblance of wistfulness. Dejectedly, he put his face into his hands and massaged the fleshy divots underneath his brows, directly behind his eyes. He let his body sink to the floor against a tall bookcase. There were so many emotions warring inside his mind. Anger. Fear. Confusion. Those were the ones he could identify. But there were infinitely more that remained unnamed. For once, he wished that he’d been afforded the opportunity to learn magic. Surely there was a spell that could sort all of this out for him. A scroll of Enhance Ability would do him wonders right now. Gods. How had everything between him and Tav gone so wrong? He’d thought they had had a mutual understanding. He outrageously propositions her, she turns him down. It was fun and entertaining. It made him strive harder for new and creative ways to try and get her to sleep with him… It kept the years worth of foul memories spent as Cazador’s toy at bay… And now she had gone and ruined the whole dynamic. Leaning into his anger was the only way he could see himself getting through the night. Those other two pesky emotions were better served smothered. He didn’t like the feeling of being afraid or confused. Didn’t like the litany of unknown sentiments that had him wanting to tear his hair out. So he chose to stay mad. Mad at Tav. Mad at the world. And maybe, even a smidgen, mad at himself.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Astarion forced himself to leave the tower. He bid farewell to the bodies that had kept him company throughout the witching hours, specifically deciding to leave ‘Timothy’ with a mustache of blood drawn on him. It took longer than expected to return to camp, his body frequently bumping into trees and tripping over obstacles along his path. He was so tired. Two days without rest would leave anyone exhausted, even an elf who only needed four hours of trancing a night. All he wanted to do was return to his red, rectangular tent and collapse upon his bedroll. Maybe lose himself in a shitty book with unfathomably bad romance. *That sounds nice.* Unfortunately, Tav spotted him the instant he made it over the crest of the passage that tied their campsite to Last Light Inn. She came stomping up to him with a wholly unbecoming expression plastered on her usually breathtaking face.

“Where have you been!?”

She was not pleased. All night Tav had sat up by the fire watching for his return. What initially had started as worry, slowly distorted into anger the longer the hours dragged on with no sign of him. She had nearly lost her mind at the swirl of concern and indignance fired up inside her chest. He had stayed out all night! In enemy territory no less! It was stupid and immature. The kind of juvenile venture she would have expected from somebody half his age. The whole thing was making her blood boil, so when his figure finally appeared over the hill, she leapt to her feet and stalked towards him. She crossed her arms over her chest when she was close enough to see the faint beauty mark that existed upon his left cheek. Her leg bounced involuntarily as she glared at him.

“Do you know how foolish that was!? Staying out on your own right after the battle at Moonrise!?”

She was still dressed in her armor from the day before. Apparently she hadn’t taken the time to change when she’d arrived back at camp. Which meant she had been neglecting self-care just like he was. Irritation crept into his bones. He didn’t want the responsibility of being the reason she refused to take care of herself. The blame was entirely hers. She was choosing to be difficult to get a rise out of him. An attempt to make him feel bad for their fight. Well, he had no intentions of playing along. Astarion turned up his nose at her. She was looking at him expectantly. The audacity! The damn woman wanted him to explain himself! Explain where he’d been! He shouldn’t have to explain himself! He was an adult man! If he wanted to stay out past the party’s bedtime he had every right to do so! He bared his fangs in her direction with an irate huff.

“Didn't I tell you not to wait up? I thought I had made myself clear that I was not planning to return until today. Besides, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you.”

Tav rolled her eyes, her arms becoming tighter across her chest. If her breasts hadn’t already been covered and compressed by the scalemail she wore, they would have been showing more cleavage than a busty barmaid as she squeezed herself. What a stupid, stupid man. Astarion was strong but not ‘take on an army of scorned cultists’ strong. Had there been any Absolute followers still lingering about, they could have taken full advantage of the fact that he was in the woods without a single weapon or any piece of armor. Plus, what if the shadow-cursed hadn't been completely irradiated? He wouldn't have stood a chance should the slew of corpses they had left in their wake these past few weeks suddenly become reanimated. Any form of fight would have left him in a very difficult position. Sarcasm dripped like venom from the tip of her tongue as she sassed him while maintaining her harsh glare.

“Right, because if an entire horde of cultists decided they wanted revenge, you'd have been more than adept at handling them.”

Astarion scoffed. Was she actually serious? He had faced far worse than a few measly cultists. A vampire spawn was still a deadly creature to encounter in the dark despite it not having the full extent of powers a true vampire possessed. He could have dealt with a fight. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t taken precautions while away. Camping out at the towers had been a strategic move. Picking the prison warden’s office in the basement of said towers had even added to the natural defences the structure provided him. He had been perfectly safe. It was incredibly insulting for her to have simply assumed he wasn’t. He was a vampire for fuck’s sake. Not some lowly peasant with the constitution of a mole and the average intelligence of a newt. He knew how to be careful. Knew how to defend himself. He had fully taken the threats of night into account. It was ludicrous she even dared to suggest otherwise. He matched her sarcastic tone with one of his own.

“Do my ears deceive me, or are they really hearing you doubt my abilities? I’m a vampire spawn, darling. I’m the thing people warn their children about. The nightmare everyone hopes they don’t encounter in the dark. Any amount of cultists wouldn’t have stood a chance against me.”

Tav cracked her neck with a quick jerk of her head. This man and his ego. What she wouldn’t give to watch his egregiously large skull deflate. She sneered at him.

“I don't doubt your abilities, Astarion, but that was a stupid move. You were unarmed and unarmored. Should someone have wanted to turn your insides into ribbons they could have.”

A touch of desperation seeped into her agitated voice.

“I need you, so make sure you come back to camp from now on.”

The sarcasm dropped from his demeanor. ‘I need you.’ The words bounced around his mind with an out of control chattering. ‘I need you. I need you.’ She needed him… What did she need from him? Was she referring to the assistance he provided in battle? Or maybe she meant his ability to pick any lock. Those would be the logical reasons as to why she might need him. His throat tightened. What if she was actually referring to the pleasure of his company? That was why he needed her. She was the first friend he could remember having in over two centuries. The first person to make him feel… *No!* He didn’t want to feel! Feeling made him weak! It made him a target! Fuck her for making him feel! Instinctually he lashed out. Hurt her before she hurt him.

“Well I don’t need you! And I most definitely don’t need you policing what I do!”

White hot fury blazed inside of Tav. Two words gritted from her teeth.

“Shut. Up.”

A direct order. Spoken like he was some kind of insubordinate in need of chastising. He lifted his chin high and looked down at her from above the top of his angular nose.

“There you go again trying to tell me what I can and cannot do! Who died and made you king?”

Tav closed her eyes and balled her hands into fists. *Breathe. Remember to breathe. If you turn him into a skewer, this whole thing will turn out much worse than it already is.* She knew she shouldn’t snap back. They were both tired and emotionally drained. Another fight would not do either of them any good. Her mouth had a different idea, though, and the words that came tumbling out were provocative.

“Might I remind you, that you all appointed me as leader of this group, and it is currently my word you are supposed to follow. If I want you to be back in camp, you will come back to camp! If I want you to shut up, you will shut the fuck up!”

That did it. There was no more ‘Mr. Nice’ Astarion. All that was left was seething rage.

“Ah yes. Our fearless leader with all her ducks requiring rows. Shall I bow down to your clear superiority?”

Tav willed her body to keep still. Hitting people she cared about was never the right way to go about things. How many times had her fists gotten her into trouble? She didn’t need to add another instant to that list. An enraged, final warning was the best she could muster.

“I swear to Gods, Astarion! If you don't shut your bitch ass mouth…”

But Astarion was on a roll now. It was too late to try and stop the defensive hate spewing past his teeth. He strided closer to her, his voice dropping an octave into a dark, malicious jeer.

“You'll what? Put me in the corner for being a bad boy? Am I going to get spankings too?”

She couldn’t take it anymore. This petty back and forth. The endless taunting. She was too tired for his shit. Too vulnerable. Too raw. Her emotions burst out of her with a roar.

“That's enough! I've had enough of you! If you are going to be a stupid, pompous asshole, then go do it somewhere else!”

There it was. The truth. She was done with him. Declared by her very own lips. Gods, it hurt more than he could have imagined. To be valued and then discarded. It was a fate only intended for the worst the world had to offer; and it came as no shock the world deemed him as such. He was vermin. Less than that. He was the piece of muck stuck to the bottom of a shoe, existing only to be eventually scraped off and left behind. It seemed like now was the time Tav took up the scraping. He didn’t blame her. Not really. There had always been the chance that she’d grow tired of his antics and send him packing. He was honestly surprised it had taken this long. At the start of their journey, he would have bet all of his coin on the prediction that she’d get rid of him within a week. Somehow he had made it just over five months. *This cannot be the end.* They had made it so far. Grown so close. He trusted her. She couldn’t actually be sending him away now of all times. The only piece of hope left in his chest managed to ask the quiet question of conformation.

“Are you telling me to pack up and leave?”

The emotion behind the query was lost to the storm of fire raging inside Tav’s soul. She was too far gone to notice the change in Astarion. She spit out her response with offhanded bluntness. Her mind was still swimming in the puddle of anger he had successfully stirred up.

“What? No. But I am telling you to go bitch by yourself. I don't need this from you today! There's too much to do and your attitude isn't required.”

The notion that she wasn’t kicking him out of the party hit him like a bull bucking a rider loose. It left him floored. He would have cried tears of relief had his pride not reminded him that once again she was bossing him around. His nostrils flared. He repositioned himself. Shoulders back, chin high. More imprudent words flew from his sharp tongue.

“Right, so I'm just supposed to go sit in my tent and whittle the time away until you're no longer throwing a tantrum? How childish of you.”

“You're the one acting childish! If you had just talked to me yesterday like a normal fucking person then maybe we'd both be in better moods right now!”

Her voice carried across the entire span of their camp. It drew the attention of all of their companions who had previously been minding their own business as she’d confronted Astarion. Each of them had noticed his absence the night before and each of them had picked up on the distress it had caused Tav. No one actually knew what had gone down between the two, but they did know that both had disappeared the previous morning the moment the sun had fully risen. Now there was a clear fight brewing and the strongest of them began to prepare to pull Tav and Astarion apart should things turn violent.

Astarion feigned nonchalance. He lifted a hand and inspected the back of his nails.

“Talk to you about what? There was, and still isn't, anything to talk about.”

Tav’s entire face was red. She looked like a balloon ready to pop. Karlach inched closer to her, while Lae’zel snuck up on Astarion.

“Are you fucking serious right now!? Nothing to talk about!? How about we start with the fact that you fucking kissed me! Why don't we start there!? Huh!?”

Every eye in camp went wide. Tav and Astarion had kissed. This was huge… For five months all of them had been watching the pair tiptoe around their feelings for each other. Tav loved Astarion, that was clear. Astarion’s feelings for Tav, however… Some of them had their suspicions. Some of them thought he was insincere. To hear that he was the one who had tipped the proverbial scales? That was unexpected.

Astarion fanned out his fingers in front of him with a ‘tsk’.

“I don't recall anything like that ever happening.”

As his head turned away from her in mock disinterest, she lunged. Karlach caught Tav around the waist and held the livid woman in her grasp. Tav squirmed and clawed at the beefy Tiefling’s forearms. Her teeth were gnashing in dazzling sparks of white and a little bit of foam was collecting in the corner of her mouth.

“Quit it with the gaslighting! We both know what went down! Why are you trying to pretend it never happened!?”

He turned his back to the ranger, fluffy, silver curls dramatically swaying at the movement.

“If something had happened, then it would have been inconsequential. It would have meant nothing.”

Tav’s body went stock still. Tentatively, Karlach set the elf back on her feet. The woman’s tone had gone icy. It was the same tone she had used moments before she and Astarion had physically fought. Devoid. Empty.

“Nothing!? Hah. Fine then. It was nothing. Why would anyone think kissing you meant something anyways? It's all just part of the act you put on isn't it? The suave, seductive vampire following his master's command like a good little spawn. I thought you were free, Astarion. I thought you were better than that.”

It was Lae’zel’s turn to catch Astarion around the waist as he lunged. The Githyanki fighter had no troubles lifting the light 5 '11 man off the ground. Astarion’s legs kicked as he fought against the strong woman’s hold. Spit came flying out of his mouth as he screamed at Tav.

“HOW DARE YOU!!!”

Tav tilted her head in a play for innocence. She put on a sickly sweet smile as she purred.

“What? Is the monster's feelings getting hurt? I didn't think he had any.”

Lae’zel held him tighter as Astarion nearly broke free. He struggled and struggled, but the Gith’s hold remained unbreakable. Tav let out a horrible, cruel, wicked laugh. It sent chills down everyone’s spine.

“While you’re following orders, why don’t you be a good little pet and start gathering your things. We leave in three days. Do try and get rid of whatever you have that isn't absolutely necessary. I’d hate to see you dragging behind because you couldn't part with something useless.”

Each command struck like a shard of exploding ice. His body felt cold. Colder than it normally was. He wanted to cry. But there were too many people watching. They had gathered the attention of the entire camp. Even the four animal companions they traveled with were watching intently. He stopped struggling but Lae’zel did not let him go.

“Stop…”

Tav couldn’t let it rest. She had to win. Had to fight. Make him feel as awful as she did. She kept going.

“You know if you had simply come back last night, none of this would be coming as a shock to you. I made this whole big announcement, and if you had simply acted maturely and worked out our issues when we fought in the woods, then you would know all this. So come morning on the 17th of Flamerule I want you to be completely ready to head to the city. Any attitude, and I might just change my mind about letting you come with.”

His body shook with his unshed tears. It was over. They were over… A tiny squeak came from his throat. A begging of her name.

“Tav…”

She didn’t hear it. She was lost. Lost in anger. In rage. Lost to that overwhelming bundle of hurt tangled deep inside her chest. Everyone waited with bated breath. What would she say next? Would Tav double down and make the worst mistake of her life…?

She did.

“Be a good boy and listen, Astarion.”

Astarion slumped in Lae’zel’s arms. She let him go and he dropped to his knees. He looked up at Tav with more hatred than he had shown this whole adventure.

“I don’t have to take this from you. I am not a slave any longer. And I am not yours. I will never be yours.”

He climbed to his feet. He glanced at each of their companions before rigidly turning and walking out of camp.

The realization of what she’d done caught up with her as his form disappeared into the sun. All the anger faded within seconds. He was gone. She had pushed him too far. With a hollow sinking in her stomach, Tav knew, in that moment, that she had well and truly lost him.