Blood & Wine - A Spawn Astarion Fan Fiction

Nymeria

When we return to camp, pork is definitely not on the menu, but the copious amount of rations that the other search parties gathered today means our first substantial meal in nearly a fortnight. As we're gathered around the campfire, going around and recounting the events of the day, there's one notable absence, Astarion.

Not soon after Karlach stoked the flames and we sat down to eat, he gathered his meal and retired to his tent without speaking a word to anyone. I kind of miss the way his eyes would find mine with a glint when Gale's stories would lean more towards pompous, regaling us with the time he seduced a goddess. The one tale we had all heard separately at one point.

The embers died down and everyone began to retire to their own tents until it was just Karlach, Wyll, and myself, the latter two of us sitting close to the fire for warmth.

I keep my head down, listening to them compare tales of hunting demons, finding common ground between them. I bristle as Wyll reaches out and touches my knee as he explains how he felled a particularly nasty demon, as if to remind me that he didn't find my demon lineage repulsive, that I wasn't a threat.

I look up to Karlach; she smirks, her fangs peeking through her teeth with a nod to Wyll, "Well, I think I might crash. Quite literally. I can feel the fires in my chest beginning to wane after today's excitement. This part is the worst, you know."

"No, can't you just stay a little longer." I straighten. "I was going to ask—"

"You can ask me tomorrow, little rabbit." She nods. "You two have a good night."

Karlach's tail flits happily as she walks away.

"It seems we are the last awake." Wyll says, shifting to face me, "I did want to thank you for the gloves." He lifts and flexes his hand, "These are a bit thicker than the ones I had before."

"You should really thank the goblins we murdered." I shrug, "They came upon them well before we did."

"About that." Wyll inclines his head, "I have noticed in the last few weeks that you've been pairing off with Astarion more often than not."

I chuckle, "It isn't by choice, I assure you."

Something shines behind his eyes, "Really."

"We decided, a bit before we met you, of course, that those practiced in the art of healing would be best paired with those without." My hand flexes, and I whisper a couple of words of power, letting turquoise tendrils of healing magic dance across my fingertips. I shrug it away, "That and it seems I'm the only one among us that can stomach his changing moods. He nearly came to blows with both Shadowheart and Lae'zel in the beginning."

"You have afforded him quite a bit of charity then." Wyll laughs to himself, lifting his metal cup of mead to his lips and taking a sip. "You are a far kinder soul than I, it seems." He trails off, his eyes unfocused on the dying fire.

"Kindness is always a skill you can acquire and should be fairly easy for a hero like yourself." I smile; this time, I offer comfort, resting a hand on his shoulder.

He straightens, looking over where my hand rests, his lips parting slightly.

"That reminds me." I pull my hand away. "The cave from today, the one where the goblins had been raiding, seems to be connected to The Grove."

Wyll regains his composure, "That would devastate the druids. Do you think they were able to send word back to the camp?"

"I can't be sure." I shrug my shoulders, looking down at my hands, "They might have been too distracted by the chest, but..."