#at some point the context for the magic parchment will reveal itself. I Don't Know Yet Right Now Though

[jennycalendar]

playing a silly little run of bg3 where thea got tadpoled because thinking about her having to deal with all these extremely romantically inclined twentysomethings is very funny to me. was struck w the realization that laezel WOULD hit on the hot dwarven battle cleric two hundred years her senior at the tiefling party. this is that.

Thea blinked, then smiled. It was not the sort of smile that one would hope to receive upon extending a proposition such as Lae’zel’s; it was not full of promise, nor was it deliciously, threateningly lascivious in the way that Lae’zel had privately hoped that it would have been. She smiled in a way that was…Lae’zel did not exactly know the words to describe such a smile. Friendly, with a hint of condescension, but not necessarily in a negative way. It was the sort of smile that Wyll had bestowed upon the tiefling children. This did not bode well for Lae’zel’s night.

“Now, how old are you, cricket?” Thea asked.

“Cricket?!” said Lae’zel, insulted.

“Course,” said Thea. “You’re quick, you’re jumpy, you won’t stop with the chatter when you’ve something to say, seems to me you’re everywhere, day in, day out. Answer my question, why don’t you?”

Lae’zel had the distinct sense that Thea was attempting to impart a point upon her. “I hardly see why this is relevant,” she said curtly. “In the Astral Plane—”

“And even if you weren’t younger than my youngest daughter,” said Thea, as though Lae’zel hadn’t said anything at all, “I’m married gone thirty years now. Hardly looking to shake that up.”

Lae’zel said, “Married?!”

“Oh, this is getting interesting,” said Astarion immediately, leaning over and nearly spilling his wine on Lae’zel’s boots. “Does this mean I don’t have a chance with you, Althea?”

It was gratifying to see that friendly-condescending expression directed towards Astarion instead of herself, now with a hint of irritation. “No one has a chance with me,” said Thea, “outside of my wife, as I’m married. End of.”

“And your wife isn’t willing to share?”

The look on Thea’s face actually was very funny. She did smile, now, but it was a smile like a knife, and it sent enough of a message to Astarion that he looked his version of nervous. “Yeah, you try asking her that,” she said. “See how she takes it.”

Astarion flushed and said, “You could have just said no, you know.”

Thea seemed to only be half listening. Taking a long sip from her own goblet, she removed a piece of ruined old parchment from her pocket, scanning the ever-changing scrawl affectionately before scribbling something down in return. Lae’zel squinted over her shoulder. The kids keep trying to hit on me, she read. Hilarious.

Perfect script responded almost instantly. And I suppose at least one is reading over your shoulder right now?

Lae’zel decided, on principle, that she did not like Thea’s wife. Or Thea. Or tieflings. Or parties. “I can easily find pleasure elsewhere,” she threatened.

“Yeah, you do that, cricket,” said Thea absently. Her quill flew across the paper.

Lae’zel stalked away, seething. To be treated as some sort of—of—hatchling, and by such a laughably primitive creature! Her prowess in bed was rivaled only by her prowess in battle. If given the opportunity, she would slaughter Thea’s wife outright.

~~

I have had more than a few young Harpers profess their undying adoration towards me in my time, Jaheira wrote, though this was, of course, decades before we met, and I was not yet as esteemed and terrifying as I am now.

Takes a special sort of idiot to flirt with the High Harper, I suppose, Thea wrote, and added an innocently smiling face to punctuate her sentence.

Fuck off. I am eminently fond of idiots. A pause, then, What did you say to dissuade the girl?

Thea’s quill did a nervous zigzag. She was trying to be honest with Jaheira; they had little time left together, after all. But this didn’t seem like the sort of thing to joke about.

Told her I’ve been married for thirty years.

Jaheira did not respond for ten minutes. Thea stared anxiously at the paper, drank, stared more at the paper, drank more, tried her very fucking best not to lose her shit thinking about being out here in the wilds and knowing she’d lost Jaheira.

Then:

This does add some clarity to Minsc asking last year as to the welfare of my “second husband.” I assumed he was losing what little mind he has. A perfectly drawn heart. You are, by the by, a sub-par husband. I do not appear to have any sort of wedding ring.

Nearly gave me a fucking heart attack, Thea scrawled shakily, making me wait like that!

You made me wait THIRTY YEARS, ALTHEA, Jaheira started.

Seemed as though it was going to get a lot longer before she got finished. Thea cut her off. I’ve got the ring on me, she wrote. Forgot to give it to you.

The word “forgot” was enclosed by Jaheira in pointed quotation marks.

Yeah, fair. Didn’t give it to you. Didn’t want to humiliate myself again.

How Long Have You Been Carrying Around—Jaheira cut herself off, scribbling out the half-finished sentence to write another one. Silvanus help me, do not answer that; I will be forced to travel to wherever you are and kill you myself.

Thea drew a crude heart of her own, then wrote, Thirty years.

Another wait, this one longer and, clearly, ever more deliberate. Jaheira wrote: Being your wife is intolerable. You will have to beg me to wear your ring when you return.

All right. Thea drew three more hearts.

I am sick of you!!! Stop writing!!!!

Thea drew seven more hearts around the word “stop.” Jaheira scratched all of them out.

“What do you even do with that parchment?” Astarion demanded.

“My wife’s telling me how much she loves me,” said Thea immediately, pocketing the parchment. “Shove off.”

She pulled out the parchment again when he was gone. Jaheira had written something else.

Eat something. Do not just drink yourself into a stupor; I know how you get at parties.

I run a fucking bakery, fuck off, Thea wrote, and kissed the parchment before pocketing it again.