Chapter Text
The first time is routine enough.
It's not long after they've left Zadash, and for safety's sake, decide to take watch shifts - especially after the recent goblin ambush.
So as the blackness of the night just barely starts to show signs of ebbing, Fjord stifles a yawn, stands from his spot beneath a tree, and makes his way over to where Beau has bedded down.
He kneels down and nudges her, too distracted by the promise of imminent rest to register that the monk is swinging at him the moment she jolts awake. Fjord bites back a yelp as he barely dodges, growling a harsh whisper, "Beau! Fuck’s sake, it’s just me!”
“Ugh...shit, man. Sorry. I’m not used to the whole...adventure party thing.” She’s groggy, but she shakes it off and stands, offering Fjord a hand up. He accepts it and rises with her.
“I hear you. Especially not with people this…” he trails off. Inclined to being assholes, is what he wants to say, but truthfully, it’s too soon to really tell.
“Colorful.”
Fjord chuckles. “Yeah. Colorful.”
Beau kicks her staff up into her hand with ease. “Guess it makes sense. We’re either criminals or circus dropouts, so…”
“Wh- Hold on now, I’m not a criminal. I-”
But Beau isn’t listening to him, he realizes, as he watches her move to sit against the tree and recognizes an expression of deep thought. It’s uncharacteristic of her so far. It’s even more uncharacteristic of what Fjord knows of her as the monk takes out a journal from within her robes and pages through it briefly before stopping with a sigh.
“...Beau?” he asks, cautiously approaching and kneeling beside her once more.
“Okay, this is a fucking weird question, but...what’s your take on Yasha?”
No, he hadn’t been expecting that.
“Are...are you asking me if she’s my type, or-”
“The fuck? No,” she snaps, staring up at him with a look of confusion before returning to her pages, brow still furrowed. “I’m asking what you think of her. Like what her deal is. I mean, the wings...that was new, right?”
“As far as I know, yeah,” he replies, “Never seen her do that before.”
Beau makes a sound of acknowledgement as she scribbles something down on the page; she writes, squints, hastily crosses something out, continues writing. She does this for a few more moments before the silence is broken again. “...She doesn’t even seem to know what she is, man. Doesn’t remember her past. Can you imagine that, just...going through shit not knowing who you are?”
Fjord doesn’t respond.
“...Anyway. I dunno. I want to get to know her more, but…” the monk sighs, dropping her arms and tipping her head back against the rough bark behind her. “She’s a mystery. Cool as hell, but...a mystery.”
For a minute, her only response is the sound of distant nightlife. She thinks that maybe Fjord dozed off, that he got tired of her rambling bullshit about the enigmatic barbarian. But when she glances at him, she sees his eyes are focused on the dancing flames of the campfire.
“I think...in time, maybe, she’ll open up,” the half-orc replies, choosing his words carefully, “We’re still strangers. And with the way she comes and goes, maybe it’ll take a while. So if you want to know more about her, just...I don’t know, talk to her. But don’t be fuckin’ weird about it.”
“Oh, c’mon, I’m not gonna be like…’Hey Yasha, those skeleton wings were pretty hot, wanna show me again sometime and talk about it?’ I have a little more tact than that. Usually.” Beau closes her eyes and drops her head forward. “Fuck.”
“Fuck?” he repeats, confused.
“Yeah, fuck, man. I don’t know how to like…” she trails, making a few vague gestures with her hand. “I don’t know how to fucking talk to hot women without being, uh. You know.”
“...Then maybe just watch her? Hell, I don’t know Beau, I’m not exactly an expert in that either.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I can do that. I’m good at that. The monk shit. Patient and observant, that’s...that’s me.” Beau’s expression is one more similar to a grimace than confidence. So Fjord does what he can to reassure her - an awkward hand on her shoulder, intended to bolster her confidence. Her resulting gaze looks more concerned than inspired.
“Uh…”
He withdraws his hand. “I, uh. Just mean to say you can do it. If you really want to try and get to know her more. Yasha seems like a lonely soul and I think it’d do you both good to have a friend.”
Beau’s expression is unreadable - Fjord’s surprised she hasn’t sent him sprawling. But then she snorts, and the faintest hint of a smirk plays on her lips. “Yeah, man. Maybe you’re right. Thanks.”
Fjord gives her a half-smile in return. “Anytime. Now if you don’t mind, it’s ass ‘o clock in the morning, so I’m going to sleep.”
“Sure. And, uh. Thanks. For the talk. Good talk.”
“Yeah. Good talk,” he says, standing back up to retreat back to his bedroll and settling down.
Beau has no issue staying awake that night during her watch. Her mind is filled with questions with no answers, or answers that only lead to more questions. But maybe Fjord has the right idea - maybe two lonely souls could find friendship. Maybe it’s not what she really wanted at first, but she can’t deny that Yasha genuinely intrigues her. She tells herself it’s because the other woman is a mystery, and Beau loves nothing more than to find answers, especially when it comes to people. Yasha is a puzzle and Beau is just curious.
Beau doesn’t realize that she’s lying to herself when her watch comes to an end and there’s a portrait of Yasha sketched beside hastily scrawled notes.