exsangue: (pic#16872163)
𝐴𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑛 ([personal profile] exsangue) wrote in [personal profile] corporeity 2023-12-23 04:43 am (UTC)

[ For all that Astarion is a practiced liar, he does mean to speak to Gale the next day. Except that their relatively steady pace of expedition accelerates, once Tav decides it's time to prioritize reaching Moonrise--and thus time to venture properly through the Underdark. Not only does Astarion not have an opportunity to speak with Gale alone, he doesn't get to witness any potential reactions to the mark Astarion's left on his throat. Gale is whisked off with the lead party while Astarion is stuck packing up camp and finding a suitable place for them to pitch their tents amidst volatile mushrooms (sentient and otherwise) and drow outposts.

Tav finds an arcane tower below the surface, which of course means the magic users are marched to investigate while Astarion is left with Lae'zel and Karlach to sharpen their blades and sort the party's rations. The monotony and the nervous twist in his gut are both miserable.

It also means he hasn't had a chance to loot anything fresh for Gale, nor has he been able to feed properly. Astarion's own hunger pangs are staved enough by the occasional bat and lizard, and he has to hope Tav will cede something from the party cache if Gale's catches up to him while they're gone.

Which additionally means Astarion is worried about Gale, beyond just considering him an asset. Which is part of the whole problem.

Finally, Astarion's roped into a short scouting venture while Gale is left behind to rest. They ambush a duergar camp, and Astarion returns aching and covered in blood, one bejeweled arcane ring slipped into his pack. By some small blessing, their own camp is near a warm underground mineral spring--perfectly safe, according to Halsin--and seeing as Astarion doesn't need to eat with the rest of them, he slips off to rinse himself of viscera.

He sheds his armor at his tent and most of the rest of his clothes along the way, down to his underwear by the time he realizes he's not the only one in for an evening bath. There isn't much room for modesty in the great outdoors (or great underground, as it were), so most of them have shared the bracing river topside at a polite distance apart.

Somehow, Astarion and Gale haven't yet. Different sleep rhythms, maybe, what with Astarion not actually needing any. But here he finds himself at the edge of a steamy spring, lit only by the strange bioluminescent plants of the Underdark, staring at Gale's naked back a few yards from him. Their first time alone in days.

Astarion knows how to be quiet, stick to the shadows; he could slip back to camp before Gale even had a chance to turn around and see that he has company. A week or two ago, he likely would have done just that and dealt with his own smell in the morning. But Astarion is tired, and--he's missed him, he realizes with an uncomfortable pang, and they do need to talk. And this is a terrible place for it, with Gale very naked and Astarion nearly there, but it's not like they have many better options down here. So Astarion clears his throat from the rock he's perched on at the edge of the spring, not shedding the last of his meager modesty just yet. ]


Mind if I join you? I'll try not to get blood all over your side of the bath.

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