thank you!! 💕💕

Tav wanted to ask where he would go, in a place as dangerous as this. Wanted to ask what he could possibly be doing when the land itself was trying to tear them apart with nothing more than the shadows around them. Wanted to know how to make sure it never happened again.

They didn’t say a word.

Finally, though warily, he seemed to decide rejecting their offer wouldn’t be in his best interests.

Instead, he sighed, eyes darting over to the railing, where the others sat talking on the floor below. He wouldn’t meet Tav’s gaze when he muttered, “Distract everyone. Just for a bit.”

A forest, she realized after an agonized beat. She was in a forest.

And she’d been there a while.

How the hell had she gotten into the forest?

She was sure her head was about to explode. It hurt to open her eyes.

Above her, the night-dark sky peeked through a canopy of black trees, the stars invisible behind the clouds of rain. She couldn’t seem to look away from that slice of night, her mind struggling to comprehend what was happening.

Lydia woke like she was coming alive.

With a start and a gasp for air, Lydia’s hands clutched at the wet leaves beneath her. Pain shot through her body, mixing badly with the chill of the air and the drizzle that fell through the trees that surrounded her, plastering her clothes to her body.

Astarion slowly closed his mouth on whatever he’d been planning to say. He seemed confused about the offer, eyeing Tav as if he couldn’t trust the words out of their mouth. Tav almost wanted to be insulted—but they’d have time for that later. Astarion’s condition was worrying. They’d bitch after.

“No,” he muttered, as to not alert the other occupants of the inn. “I was good at hiding. Stop that.”

Tav ignored him. “How do I help?” they whispered.

Astarion blinked. Before he could speak, Tav said quickly, “You don’t have to tell me what it is. Just tell me how to help.”

Tav stared at him in disbelief. How long had he been like this? How long had it been since Tav had properly /looked/ at him? They’d all been in such a rush—had Tav not once looked back?

Horror curled in their gut. Astarion seemed to notice, because he sighed like they were being impertinent again.

Red veins radiated from the corners of his tired eyes, ringed in purple-blue. A brilliant bruise bloomed along the left side of his jawline, a small cut bisected the corner of his lips, and he looked—

He looked like he hadn’t slept in a thousand years.

“Astarion?” Tav tried softly, but he ignored them, turning his head further until they couldn’t see anything but where his neck met his collar. They moved closer, and closer still.

Stubbornly, he still wouldn’t look up until they were close enough to reach out and touch him. Tav stifled a gasp.

But when they got close enough they realized, no, it was their Astarion, and he looked like he’d been through hell. His hair was a mess, his skin was blotchy even at the distance Tav was at, and he just looked—/tired/. More than he should.

Why wasn’t he recovering like he usually did?