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“You told him you weren’t close,” Astarion finally snapped, like he’d been waiting all evening to say it. Gale should probably have felt more nervous about an angry vampire this close to his vulnerable throat, but Astarion had ceased to truly frighten him. They all had bigger problems, these days. “You’ve no right to wonder why he won’t trust you after that.”
“I said no such-“ Gale said, exasperated, and then he paused. He remembered an attempt to comfort him under false stars, and his own bitter response. He’d been a little caught up in his own melodrama, hadn’t he? “Ah.”
He was a little surprised Tav had repeated that conversation to Astarion, but perhaps he shouldn’t be. They’d become quite close, as far as he could tell.
Astarion gave him a look that said he thought the wizard was the stupidest person he’d ever met. Gale couldn’t fully justify being mad about it, in this instance. “It was a regrettable choice of words,” Gale admitted, and Astarion sneered. “I hardly think that I am the only one in our merry band of misfits who occasionally speaks before he thinks,” he said, a little defensively.
Astarion briefly looked furious at the implied accusation before he mastered his expression. “Yes, fine. Pot, kettle,” he bit out through clenched teeth, jerking a hand between the two of them. “He and I are working out our mutual trauma,” he said, sarcasm dripping off every word. “You, on the other hand, made unwanted overtures, insulted his magical ability when he turned you down more kindly than you deserved, and then followed it up by giving him a gift only to stab him with it,” the vampire said sharply, leaning in with a vicious look in his eyes. “So don’t look so pathetic about why he’s not eager to ask ‘how high’ when you say ‘jump’.”
Gale blew out a breath, trying to pick through that field of conversational mines. “Did he ask you to talk to me about this?” he asked before addressing any of it.
The spawn immediately looked cagey.
“I’m hardly sharing any sensitive information,” Astarion huffed, and Gale leaned back, eyeing him. He could get the upper hand here, by threatening to tattle, probably, but he’d rather try to keep the peace first. He did like Astarion a little, after all. Who else was going to read disturbing, cursed books with him?
“I’d think out of everyone, you could understand seeking some stability and comfort via a romantic relationship,” Gale settled on in his own defense, speaking carefully, and Astarion’s answering glare was sharp enough to cut.
“I don’t care how you handle your mommy issues,” Astarion snapped, and Gale was sorely tempted to light him on fire right there. Just a little bit. “But I’d appreciate you leaving the rest of us out of it.”
“Yes, because not getting involved in anyone else’s problems is exactly what this group does best,” Gale said sarcastically. Then, more irritably, “And while it may be convenient to you for the orb to be my problem alone, by its very nature it concerns a great deal more than just myself, and I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want that acknowledged.” Astarion blew a sharp, unnecessary breath through his nose.
“You blowing all of us up is concerning, yes,” he said icily. “But it gives you no right to be an absolute twat to Tav.”
Gale blinked at him, unable to even be properly offended at the sheer hypocrisy in that statement. Astarion certainly could hear himself speak, and there was no reason for him to say something so outrageous and leave Gale such an opening. He was usually much better at verbal sparring.
“You’re mad because I hurt his feelings,” Gale realized aloud, a bit wonderingly. He’d thought that whatever was going on between Tav and Astarion was mostly physical, though he hadn’t seen any evidence of them sneaking off for dalliances lately, and that was hard to hide in a camp like theirs. But this irrational defensiveness, from someone who prided himself on seeming to have no attachments at all, was telling. Telling rather a lot, actually. “You’re trying to protect him.”
“He doesn’t need protecting,” Astarion scoffed immediately, and Gale raised a brow. “You’ve seen him fight.”
Gale was quiet for a beat.
“Have you noticed Wyll’s been avoiding you lately?” he asked eventually, and Astarion scowled at him for the subject change, but went along with it, probably thinking he’d dodged a crossbow bolt.
“Yes, yes, everyone hates a vampire spawn," Astarion drawled, hands waving about as he spoke. "No doubt he’s worried about his precious neck, not that I’ve any interest in getting near all that. Self-righteousness is not a flavor enhancer.” Gale gave him a grim sort of smile.
“I’m fairly certain it’s because he’s afraid of Tav, actually,” Gale said. “You were out hunting with Halsin, but when you were gone, Tav put him through the ringer for the rat jokes. I honestly think Wyll was a little afraid for his life,” he said mildly, studying Astarion’s face as his expression froze comically. “I’ve never seen our fearless leader so angry, and that’s truly saying something for a possibly-possessed murderer.” Astarion blinked, and then his eyes narrowed in the direction of the rest of camp.
“That little shit,” Astarion murmured to himself. Then his gaze snapped back to Gale and he cleared his throat. Gale smirked a little. “This isn’t one of your sappy stories,” Astarion snarled, but Gale could see now there was no bite.
“Oh, no, it’s much better,” Gale agreed lightly, because he knew it would irritate the elf. “Adorable really, the two of you,” he lied, since it was actually mostly sad and/or disturbing with just the occasional hint of something sweet.
“I will kill you in your sleep,” Astarion said irritably, but he used that threat at least once a week— usually when Tav was being preposterous— and Tav was very much alive and well, so it fell incredibly flat.
“I will apologize to Tav for what I said before,” Gale said, feeling more magnanimous now. “I can hardly let him think I don’t trust him, when I let him talk me out of exploding myself for the greater good,” he said wryly, and Astarion gave him a sharp nod of approval. “But I would ask that both of you consider the possibility of the Crown seriously. The implications… well, I do truly think it would open up our options, if it is what I think it is.”
“Both of us,” Astarion echoed wryly. “I don’t particularly care about your history lesson,” he said, blatantly lying. He was just as interested in power as Gale himself, and not for entirely different reasons, either. “As if I have any influence on this group of weirdos,” he scoffed. Gale held up a finger.
“You do have an influence on Tav,” he said. “Which you well know.” A long moment passed between them before he continued, where Astarion’s face didn’t seem to know which expression to settle on. “And Tav, in spite of any protest he may make, is the one we look to to make the hard decisions. The others listen to him.” Tavran wasn’t a typical leader-figure, but his ruthless pragmatism had become the foundation on which they relied in the face of such horrifying odds. Not to mention his absurd charisma. An amnesiac with a disturbing amount of bloodlust and asshole-ish tendencies should not be able to be so persuasive, but here they were.
“It helps that he’s cute,” Astarion said distantly, as if following Gale’s train of thought— and maybe he was, sometimes they all overshared without meaning to, what with the tadpoles— before glaring pre-emptively at Gale like he could force the man to pretend he hadn’t heard that by the power of his scowl alone. Gale just huffed a laugh.
“Well, you saw that before the rest of us, didn’t you,” he said lightly, but they both knew that wasn’t what Astarion had seen at all. (Not only because Tav had been honestly a wreck when they’d all crash-landed. At least his hair had finally grown out.) Astarion had only been unfortunate enough to try to manipulate someone who he realized too late was more than capable of doing it right back. And now those messy little things called feelings were involved, complicating it for both of them. Gale couldn’t hold it against him; he’d done the same thing, after all.
“I am the cleverest one here,” Astarion sniffed, and Gale let out a ‘ha!’ but didn’t otherwise protest. No reason to start that fight.
“What are you two doing, brooding over here?” Speak of the devil. Gale started slightly and Astarion smirked at him, though Gale would be willing to bet money that Astarion hadn’t heard their friend approach either. He was naturally sneaky, that Tav, and his lessons with Astarion had only made it worse.
“We’re not brooding,” Astarion said, looking back at Tav after rearranging himself into an artful sprawl. So very subtle. It worked of course, Tav’s gaze slipping away from his face for a telling moment. “We’re trysting.”
“Not exactly the word I would use,” Gale said with an exaggerated grimace.
“Without inviting me?” Tav asked, mock-offended, a hand over his chest. “Rude.”
“While the meeting in private is accurate, it was for the sake of looking over this tome away from less approving eyes,” Gale explain, revealing the Necromancy of Thay with a little flourish. Halsin in particular didn’t much like its existence. “Not for something more scandalous.” The conversation had strayed a bit from its original point, but that had been the original purpose of their meeting. He and Astarion had decided to see if they could deal with the tricky spirits together, so far with little luck.
“Some would say a romantic tryst would be less scandalous than that book, I’d wager,” Tav said wryly. Also Halsin, probably. “I know what happened the last time you tried to read it, Astarion. Keeping each other accountable with that, I hope,” he said, far more imperiously than a lanky, fair-haired, blue-eyed half-elf should really be able to manage. There was a weight to his presence that didn’t make sense, just looking at him.
Probably the trauma.
“Yes sir,” Astarion purred, undercutting the weighted moment immediately. Tav kicked at his ankles with no intention to do harm.
“Alright, if you can sass, you can wash dishes, come help me.”
“Absolutely not, I don’t even eat. Why should I have to help clean up after dinner? It’s beneath me,” Astarion protested in outrage (mock or not, Gale couldn’t always tell with him) and slumping even more dramatically than before. Had he managed to unfasten his shirt, too?
“Well I suppose I could take Gale instead, down to the stream for a little privacy, since I told everyone the only way I was going to agree to the washing was for some peace and quiet until I got back,” Tav mused, tapping his chin. “We’ll have the water all to ourselves, before everyone else goes to wash up. Could we borrow your soap, at least?”
“Minx,” Astarion grumbled, getting to his feet and leaning all the way into Tav’s space, proprietary. They kept distance between their bodies, but Tav snuck a kiss, oddly chaste and sweet for two bloodthirsty gremlins, Gale thought. “I suppose if I get to have you beneath me as well, it could make up for it,” Astarion purred, and Gale rolled his eyes and got ready to leave, but Tav’s reaction drew his attention back to them.
“Whenever you’re ready, and not a moment before,” he told Astarion, quietly serious. The plain honesty was a bit of a shock to Gale, who suspected they’d forgotten for a moment that he was there. “I’d like to wash your hair, though, if that’s alright.” Astarion looked as flummoxed as Gale felt, but the spawn soon rallied.
“My dear, only if I may return the favor,” he said, tone very different now, almost affectionate.
“I was actually thinking it’s time for me to shave it all off again,” Tav mused playfully, inspiring an angry scowl.
“Don’t you dare get near your head again with a dagger—“ Gale cleared his throat and got to his feet. Tav turned to him as he stood up.
“Tav, a word, if I may,” he requested, and Tav’s expression went a little tight. “Not right now,” Gale added hastily. “I do not intend to interrupt; you’ve bargained for some alone time quite expertly,” he said with a little bow. “Perhaps later tonight, or in the morning, before we set off again. I’d like your advice on something.” Tav’s expression relaxed a little.
“My advice?” he echoed, picking up immediately at the fact that this was a different sort of private meeting than the kinds Gale had requested before.
“There’s something even the all-knowing wizard can’t solve on his own?” Astarion crowed, his tone mocking. Gale glanced at him and saw something serious in his eyes, in spite of his comment. Astarion was testing him.
“Tav has always been able to see things differently than I. Than the rest of us,” Gale allowed with a self-effacing shrug. “I do not wish to underestimate his talent for strategy, and I’d be quite grateful for another perspective.” Astarion’s mocking face over Tav’s shoulder told him he’d laid it on a little thick, but Tav’s expression softened just a little. Perhaps a hint of surprise, or caution around his eyes. Gale hoped at least to soften some of the distant rigidity Tav kept for those he didn’t like. It had been extended to Gale lately, too, and he’d rather it didn’t.
“Alright, Gale. You sure it can wait?” Tav asked, tilting his head in that uncanny way he had, and Gale made a shooing motion lest he wake up tonight with vampire teeth in his neck in revenge.
“Not indefinitely, but certainly for a few hours, or tomorrow. Go. Those dishes won’t wash themselves.”
“I will wash myself, if you don’t hurry up,” Astarion announced airily, already sauntering away and Tav snorted.
“Go get your fancy soaps, I’ve got to collect the dirty dishes,” Tav told him, and Astarion made a dismissive gesture about the dishware before ducking into his tent. “Any luck with the book?” Tav asked Gale quietly, lingering for another moment.
“No, I’m afraid not,” Gale said, shaking his head. “We’ll keep trying. He thinks it might give him an edge on Cazador, but there seems to be something keeping us from being able to read the whole thing. We might yet get to the end, but for now it seems we’re at a standstill.” It occurred to him that he could pitch his hopeful trip to Sorcerous Sundries in that slant; he had no idea if there was anything there that could help read the book or beat a vampire lord, but perhaps a suggestion in that direction would make Tav more willing to stop by. And if they happened to find anything about the Crown while they were there…
No. He’d present his theory honestly, he decided, watching Tav frown, nod, and take him at his word. Even after how much of a prick Gale had been to him. “Try not to get possessed by whatever curse is on it, hm?” Tav said wryly, and Gale gave a wry snort.
“We’ll do our best,” he agreed. “Now go, we can talk in the morning. Gods know I’m looking forward to washing Moonrise off me again. Hard to feel clean after that nightmare,” and Tav grimaced in agreement.
“Right. The morning then.” He offered Gale a small smile, then headed back the way he’d come. Astarion reappeared before they both turned the corner, and he watched Tav drift closer, as if in orbit. Or perhaps it was Astarion who orbited, murmuring something to his companion that made Tav laugh out loud before they were out of sight.
Gale shook his head. “Not one of my sappy stories indeed,” he muttered to himself, and went to see if Shadowheart could spare any wine.