Like Starlight and Wine (A Baldur's Gate 3 Astarion x Tav Fanfic)

32. A Strange Encounter in the Wetlands

I had promised Wyll that my fight with Astarion wasn't going to be a distraction during the rest of our journey, so why am I sulking now? My heavy legs move sluggishly along the road as if I have lead for feet. I've fallen back short distance behind the rest of the party as we retrace our steps back southward from our detour to the risen road. I can't seem to bring myself to look Astarion in the eye... to apologize for treating him so badly. Though I can't determine whether my unwillingness to do so is due to stubbornness, pride, shame, or something else entirely.

I don't notice at what point Wyll subtly pulls away from the rest of the group, putting a little distance from them so that he is walking a bit nearer to me. He occasionally steals glances over his shoulder at me, his brow knit with concern. But Astarion does not. He doesn't look my way once. I'm not sure whether I'd even want him to. He's right to be upset with me... but part of me still longs for those ruby-red eyes to find their way to mine. My chest aches for the pale elf to notice me, but at the same time I'm certain I'd die of shame if he did.

 "Everything alright, Tav?" Wyll asks at one point, and I nod, averting my gaze, guilt swarming my cheeks with heat. I promised him I'd keep my mind focused on the journey before us, yet here I am unable to push those thoughts of Astarion out of my head. And the worst part is that I can't even seem to hide it.

"I'm fine," I reply, my voice unexpectedly stiff and raspy in my dry throat. "I'm just a little tired."

I can see in Wyll's face that he doesn't believe me. He falls back further until he is walking next to me, and gently rests a hand on my shoulder as if to comfort me. "We can take a short rest right here if you need a moment," he says kindly.

I shake my head, almost missing the quick, sharp look Astarion finally steals our way over his shoulder. There's a warning in his gaze. His red eyes are piercing like daggers, sending shivers through my spine. Maybe he doesn't like the idea of us stopping so early in the day. More likely, he's still angry with me.

"I'm alright, really," I insist, forcing a soft smile up at Wyll while pretending I didn't just see that brief, cold look in Astarion's eyes. "We don't have time to stop every time I feel a little tired." More like, we don't have time to stop for a fool who's head is full of foolish thoughts.

"If you're sure," Wyll nods. "But if you need anything don't hesitate to speak up."

"I will... thanks."

I'd forgotten Wyll's hand still resting on my shoulder until he finally removes it, slowly as if he has to pry himself off. But I don't give it much thought as we continue on our way down the road, only this time Wyll remains at my side.

As the trail continues southward, the road dips down steeply, and the scenery around us begins to change. Thick clusters of tall forest conifers become more spread out, eventually replaced by patches of verdant grass and lush, weeping willow trees. Down below us, a bright, green swampland sprawls in the distance, sunlight dancing along the still, green waters.

Where is our adventure taking us this time? I wonder, as I find myself basking in the warmth of the sun. I try hard to focus my mind on the journey ahead, but my will breaks, my gaze wanders, and my eyes find their way to Astarion's back ahead of me. I study the shape of him, tracing the outline of his square shoulders with my gaze, remembering every muscle, every scar; remembering how sturdy they'd felt with my arms wrapped around them-

Get a grip, Tav, I shake my head. You know that's never happening again. You need to focus!

As I work to rip my mind away from those memories that feel so forbidden, I suddenly hear voices in the distance; a dispute up ahead between a handful of people. As we approach, curiosity overwhelms every other thought in my mind at the sight of the three people off the side of the road. Two young men have an old woman cornered near a rock-face. They are verbally berating her while she cowers, her small body quivering and distraught.