Astarion never had much need for sleep. He slept, that much was true; he only found that he needed significantly less of it than the others seemed to. A fact that he kept to himself, as the less others knew about him, the better. Every fact about himself that he volunteered was carefully crafted. His every action was premeditated, to portray an image of himself in their minds, to control the narrative of their perception of him, from within their own minds. An old habit he had developed centuries ago to make the act of enticing victims for his master an easier, almost mindless task. It was like painting in a way, he supposed. He was no different than a sculptor creating an image. It was art, what he did. He did it well. It was, however, insufferably boring to lay so still for the long hours the others slept. He was, however, not alone. He could feel it, sensing the blood pumping through her fast-beating heart. The little healer who had fallen asleep in his arms mere moments ago had awoken in a panic and a huff. She scrambled away from him on her hands and knees, dropping to her own bedroll where she lay, even now. Pantomiming sleep nearly as well as he did. He supposed that he was partially to blame for putting her so ill at ease. Perhaps she could feel his gaze upon her, and that was the impetus that drove sleep away from her. However, it could not be helped. He tried to look at other things, to divert his eyes from her perfect form for a moment or two, but he found that he always returned. She was just so interesting to watch. The way the fire illuminated her fine, light hair. The way her skin almost glowed amber in the soft flickering light of the flames. The way her shoulder rose and fell as she lay on her uninjured side, she was bleeding, even now, and he could smell it. Ironic, for the healer of the group to be the injured one, harboring a secret wound the others knew nothing of. Astarion thought as he chuckled to himself in the dark; ironic indeed. He found himself strangely pleased to know of it. He was unsure of why Hestra may have gone the entire day without mentioning her injury or pausing to address it, but he reveled in the fact that, if only in this moment, he knew her better than the others. As though the two of them shared some secret knowledge known only to them. As though it made them co-conspirators in some grand scheme. As though it made them closer than they actually were. A foolish thought that he tried time and time again to abandon, yet it floated to the surface of his psyche with his every attempt to discard and disguise it. He knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to be closer to her. She was an interesting little thing. Yes, he wanted to be close to her, he wanted to observe her every interesting expression, he wanted to know her in her entirety, across every aspect of her adorable self, and most of all, Astarion thought as he momentarily broke his eyes free from her to cast a hasty, resentful glance at the others; he wanted to keep her all to himself.
Early in the morning, as the last embers of the campfire cooled and before the sun began to peek above the treeline bashfully, Astarion watched as the little healer stirred. He thought nothing of it, initially. Perhaps she was an early riser; nothing particularly amiss there. To a point, he found that he would have been quite surprised had she been a lazy waker or late sleeper. She rose, gathering a handful of her things, including her medical satchel, and stole away in the semi-darkness of the very early morning. Surely she could not be attempting to flee? To abandon them? Astarion was curious. Where could she be going in such a hurry? He rose and followed her. She walked towards the brook they had made camp beside and began to undress. Astarion looked away. As much as he would have enjoyed the sight, he knew what it was to have his privacy prevailed upon. He looked away, content to be near as she bathed and tended to her wounds. Minutes passed, then more; Astarion could hear the sound of her teeth chattering as she waded, shivering in the frigid water. Minutes passed and he grew more concerned with each passing moment, did she mean to freeze herself to death? Surely not. That simply would not do. Astarion made his presence known. He let his foot fall upon a twig.
She did not startle, nor did she turn or acknowledge his presence in the slightest. Astarion cleared his throat and addressed her. "Really now, you could have asked me to join you, you know." She remained sitting in the icy water, her back turned towards him. "If you do not require immediate medical attention, I would prefer to bathe alone." Astarion laughed. "It looks like you're the one in need of medical attention. I can smell the infection in your blood from here." She shivered. Why did she linger in the icy water? A healer he was not, but Astarion knew enough of human anatomy to know that prolonged exposure to frigid temperatures could mean serious illness. He had also heard salacious rumors that the quickest way to restore body heat once a body was deprived of it was to strip down and create...friction. If Astarion had any blood to do so, he would have blushed at the thought. It was a delicious thought to be sure, but, he had no body heat to offer her, and in such a scenario, he would likely be more a detriment than a help. Halsin would have to offer aide, that great bear of a man. Or Shadowheart, or La'zel, for that matter. Anybody but Gale. For all his avoiding the little healer, Astarion had seen how his longing gaze had lingered on her- no, anybody but Gale. Astarion shook the thought from his head. "Really now, a healer ought to take better care of themselves. I thought you'd finally snuck off of your own devices, but here I find you, catching your death of cold." She huffed and retorted, "You seem to make a habit of following me." Not an accusation so much as it was a statement spoken so matter-of-factly that he laughed. "I can't let the only healer foolish enough to join a party with such a slim chance of success fall to an untimely demise before we've made full use of them! Trust me, my sweet; we will have a myriad of medical emergencies to keep you busy soon enough. It comes with the territory of risking life and limb for glory." She turned to him then, and the sight was art in its purest form. It affected him, the sight. So much so that his chest constricted oddly, and he found it difficult to breathe. Her great green eyes reflected the sparkle and glitter of the water as the sun rose to its full glory behind her, her hair illuminated from behind as she addressed him directly. "Is that why you are here? For glory?" She was as direct, as she was beautiful. "For freedom." He answered softly. Clearing his throat before asking, "What about you? What makes you so different from the others, hmm? Why are you here?" She smiled at him then, an honest, friendly, open smile, one so rarely cast to the likes of him. She smiled, and she spoke, "Because all are deserving of care."
Astarion knew she likely stayed in the water to avoid having the full of her form observed by him, and although he would have greatly enjoyed prolonging the interaction with the delightful little healer, he excused himself. She seemed the determined type, and she would likely have frozen to death if he lingered a moment more. Astarion wondered at himself. It was unlike him to prioritize the interest of another above his own fleeting fancy. This little healer could be trouble for him. Great trouble indeed. He almost resented her for it. He had known her for less than three days, and already, his thoughts were consumed by her. He longed to be near her; He strove to keep her within his eyesight at all times. She was interesting indeed, to have stirred his heart in such a way, as though it was her right to do so, as though she had always resided there, and he had only now just noticed. Igniting something within him that he tried desperately to ignore. He had known an endless parade of lovers in the whole of his long life. He knew what it was to lust, to desire the body of another; he had seen it so often in the eyes of his master's victims as they succumbed to his charm. Yet, this was something entirely uncharted. Something that terrified him. The audacity of this little healer, to have accomplished all of that and yet to act as though she had done nothing at all. Or worse, to be genuinely unaware of the effect she had on him, it was a bit too much, even for him. It is just another fleeting fancy. He told himself. A harmless little thing, nothing more. Yet in the back of his mind, there was an awful inkling that it was perhaps something more powerful, something stronger, something more, something he did not yet have the word for. But no need to complicate things, he told himself. She was here, and so was he; that suffice for the time being. He would keep this growing fondness to himself. None other need know of it. She seemed too frightened of him to reciprocate his... fondness, and even if she had, he would not know what to do with such a rare and precious thing. No, he would make it his duty to keep the feelings he felt from the others, especially her. That, and keeping her away from Gale. Speaking of, he thought to himself with a wicked grin, he had some choice... words to exchange with the other members of his party. Yesterday's thoughtlessness would not be repeated. Never again.
