Work Text:
Elizia is mid rummage through a barrel when behind her Astarion utters an absolutely baffling 'rawr'.
She turns slowly, red and orange braids sweeping over her shoulder and causing the clasps to click against the glass bottles in the barrel she's still hunched over. The others haven't noticed, having some sort of discussion over one of the bookshelves. Gale has three books under an arm already.
Astarion himself hasn't noticed her attention. She watches as, back to her, head tilted up to apparently better admire the taxidermied bear looming over the room, Astarion raises a hand and pretends to claw loosely at the air with another quiet fake growl. She manages a whole three seconds before she's doubled over, wheezing with laughter, the rim of the barrel hurting her stomach but not enough to stop her leaning on it for support.
She hears Astarion turn around behind her, armour creaking slightly as he moves. When she dares to peek over her shoulder she breaks out in new mirth at the wide eyed dismay on his normally cool and calculating face. If he could blush then she has no doubt that he'd be a fantastic shade of red right about now. He huffs and crosses his arms tightly, looking away from her with a sneer of disgust which only makes tears leak from her eyes.
A couple of deep breaths and a wipe across her cheeks and she has herself under control enough to lean back against her trusty new support barrel and apologise to Astarion.
He looks at her briefly before looking somewhere over her shoulder again, dramatic as always. "Are you quite done?"
She really doesn't mean to snort. "Don't ask me that, I won't be able to stop again!" She waves a hand at him that he glares at before batting it away.
His eyes narrow and he leans in closer. Closer until she has to bite her lip to stop from laughing directly into his face as he searches for something.
"You heard nothing."
She nods, biting harder than she knew she could without tasting blood. "Mhm."
He backs off and moves as if to turn away but his body stutters and he comes back, a pointed finger poking her chest.
"You are lucky that I like you, darling. Very lucky indeed."
She nods again but can't help herself from leaving a little whittled bear of an approximate likeness outside his tent that night. It hits her back in the morning, thrown across the camp with a hurled 'asshole' that has her laughing madly once more. She chucks it back with a jaunty wave to follow, it clocks him on the arm and she swears she sees his snarl twitch up slightly before he stalks into the forest to find breakfast.
When she walks past the spot the little statue had fallen later that morning it's suspiciously nowhere to be seen.