Chapter Text
To say Tav is odd is perhaps the understatement of his two and a bit centuries. He’s never met someone so intrinsically capable while also being so simultaneously goofy.
The looting for example. Astarion is no stranger to the old adage “My favorite things are other people's things” but Tav seems to want to rifle through every single barrel and box they pass. He watches her sift through a wicker basket of fish for a fresh mullet she throws in her backpack. Likewise go a silver jeweled necklace, a pair of gladiator sandals, two books on what looks like very boring history she definitely will not read, a large framed picture of a brook and then six watermelons she found next to a corpse. He has a terrfying vision of what tonights dinner will be and mentally takes a note to ask Karlach to cook.
Watching her throw every glimmering, wearable or edible piece of anything into the depths of her backpack should be the roof of her item oddness but somehow Tav finds another floor.
The clothes.
It had shocked him the first time. Tav had had her hand once again in a chest but when she pulled out a rather splendid he’ll admit, set of leather armor, rather than chucking it unceremoniously into her bag she’d begun undressing.
Right there!
They were in a tomb for godsakes across which were strewn the still cooling bodies of some very recently slain bandits. Which is to say there weren’t any witnesses bar them but still. Shadowheart and Lae'zel both appeared nonplussed but of course they’d been traveling with Tav before. Astarion didn’t look away, but Tav, if she even noticed, didn't appear bothered. He watched her shuck her shirt and peel down her slacks, revealing inches of tantalizing skin before getting re-dressed just as efficiently into her new if slightly musty smelling armor.
“It looks good,” Shadowheart said, looking slightly flushed. Tav beamed back at her and then tossed her old clothing on the ground. Right. So they were just going to take this all as read then?
Later on Astarion couldn’t quite himself, even if it meant exchanging words with the so far gothest member of their little troupe.
“Does she do that often then?”
“Do what? Oh the turning herself into a sheep? First I’ve seen but she didn’t seem worried about it.”
“No, no no. Not that” though that was a question for another day, really. “The disrobing and wearing dead peoples clothing wherever she finds it, that thing.”
Shadowhearts eyes light with understanding and then avert guiltily. “Oh that! Yes, she does do that.”
Astarion waited for what for him, would count as patiently. “Why?”
“I’ve never asked why.”Shadow heart said, the guilt look becoming increasingly guiltier.
“Right. And is there a reason for that or am I meant to guess at your sudden evaisness because I don’t mind. Honestly. Is this a religious thing? If your unfortunate bowl cut suddenly too tight?”
“Because Istik” Lae'zel’s voice interrupts from behind him, “Then she might stop disrobing.”
The chkk sound Lae'zel makes with her mouth is a little insulting but turning back to look at Shadow Hearts quickly pinking face, he realizes the two of them must find it just as odd as he does. They just don’t want it to stop.
Astarion ponders it that evening, looking at the stars. He supposes it has nothing to do with him, and Tav obviously seems very comfortable in their own body so she mustn’t notice or mind the looks she gets from her companions while changing. Astarion takes to stealing glances at Shadowheart and Lae'zels faces the next time Tav finds a fitted set or particularly pleasing dress. It’s so obvious now that both women are obviously gratified by the reveal of Tav’s skin as she slips between outfits, he almost pities them. He’s taken so many lovers that the display of skin as it slips from and between clothing has somewhat lost its enticement, but he will admit, Tav is attractive. Not as beautiful as him of course, but not ugly or hard to look at. They have strong arms and lovely shoulders which are shown off beautifully when she moves to take off her coat. But then everything about Tav is strong, her self assurance definitely. His eyes follow the curve of her hips as she shimmies the dress up only for it to get stuck half way up her thighs and then she has to do the same little wriggle to pass it down. He feels a slow pulling warmth coil low in him and realises with mirth that it’s arousal. This as Tav tosses the dress over head now and, with both arms stuck through, is making a valiant effort against a cloth tube.
The arousal does not abate however, and finally Lae'zel steps forward to pull the offenidng garment down revealing Tav’s pleased if flushed face. Astarion isn’t some lovestruck teen or lust dirven fool, he doesn’t feel the need to do anything about the stirring caused by Tav or even address it. Looking around again he’s also not the only one affected. Lae'zel’s cheeks are a shade of darker green and Shadowheart is positively scarlett.
Tav doesn’t try on everything she sees. Some of it is obviously too heavy, even if she does hold it pressed to her skin for a moment, before she sulkilly places it in the travellers chest at camp. Other times she seems to object to color, cut, protections. He never would have placed Tav as a fashionista but she’s very choosey over how she presents herself, and eventually this extends to them as well.
They’re exploring a recently vacated owl bear cave. That is Tav is tapping every barrel while the group sort of mills behind her when she stands with a shout of exclamation, holding a tiara above her head.
“Shadowheart look! Look!” Shadowheart looks at the tiara, they all do. It’s a simple geometric design with a small obsidian embedded at the centre. Tav hands it directly to Shadowheart.
“For you!”
Shadowheart looks abashed but oddly touched as she accepts the thing. Astarion sniffs delicately. He supposes it does go rather well with her whole, all the world is loathsome and must crumble to ever black cinders thing she’s got going on. As Shadowheart thanks Tav and goes to put it in her backpack, Tav’s hand shoots out again.
“Try it on!”
Shadowheart stops. It’s a simple enough request. No reason not to. She tries on the tiara.
Tav beams. That’s the only description for it. Her whole face lights up and all of them, even Astarion himself goes a little softer for a moment. Naturally he then snaps out of it but the warmth of her smile continues to haunt him for the rest of the evening.
It happens again with Lae'zel and a pair of boots. Lae'zel doesn’t waste time with thanks, only shrugs into the magical shoes to Tav’s obviously appreciative delight. Astarion is not jealous.
Astarion himself is one day handed cape which he also dons immediately to Tav’s bright and effusive compliments. Neither Shadowheart nor Lazel had received such and he can feel the two of them glaring daggers at him and like the newly restored sunlight on his back, it warms him to the core. So later down the track when Tav innocently hands Shadowheart an entire new ensemble, it doesn’t surprise him that Shadowheart swallows and then begins disrobing then and there in the woods next to the fallen goblins, but it does certainly make her more interesting. Astarion knew in an abstract way that they were each playing a game competing for Tav’s regard, but Shadowheart had just raised the stakes. She looks at noone while she does it, but she does do it cheeks pinking all the while. Astarion is less interested in watching the clerics pale skin be revealed to the light. He notes that she’s thinner than her armour makes her appear,but experiences none of the same arousal he felt when watching Tav.
Slipping into a form fitting and obviously enchanted new armour set makes Tav actually giddy, so much so that she enfolds the usually stoic Shadowheart in a brief and excited hug.
“You look amazing!” Tav babbles and Shadowhearts blushing seems to shift form mortification to pleasure.
Astrain is not jealous. He looks at Lae'zel, and seeing as she looks exactly like he feels, Lae'zel isn't jealous either.
It still feels ridiculous every time after that but Astatrian and Lae'zel both take whatever clothing or armour item is offered and begin disrobing then and there, in front of an often bouncing and delighted Tav. Astarion take’s Tav’s oohs and ahhs in stride, he is beautiful and he deserves them of course. So by the time they meet a new companion, Wyll, first sword of the frontiers, it doesn’t even occur to the group as abnormal.
Until of course Tav pulls a rather delicious looking robe set from the travelling chest and starts shimmying out of her trousers right in the middle of camp.
“What in all the holy hells -”
Astarion has moved before he can even think to react only to find Shadowheart’s hand already glowing and Lae'zel with her hand around Wyll’s mouth and a knife to their throat.
“Really now?” He furiously whispers,so as not to attract Tav’s attention “We’re going to kill him now? We just got him! I’m certainly not going to be the one to explain that!”
Tav is luckily caught in the fabric of her newly acquired robe, a little known danger of the wilds, which allows the four of them to beat a hasty exit to behind a nearby boulder.
“If the istik ruins this for us he will wish he was dead.” Lae'zel says.
“I’m not one to agree with Lae'zel normally but in this we’re of an accord.” Shadowheart says, nodding.
Wyll is looking between the three of them as if they’re crazy. Astarion think he mustbe mad because what he means to say is, “I have no idea what these women are talking about”, and what comes out of his mouth is “We never mention the undressing. We all do it. If you bring any of it up we’ll kill you.”
Wyll barks a sharp laugh that slowly sobers as he looks between their dead serious faces.
“Right. Uh - can I ask why?”
Lae'zel chcks, which Wyll somehow intuits correctly as absolutely not. The evening passes.
Wyll does not mention it again. He shyly averts his eyes when Tav redresses in font of him, ears blazing red, but he doesn’t ask again. When Astarion is offered a new dress shirt off hand, he considers refusing but the lure of Tav’s eyes weaken him. He turns so his backisi to the woods and strips, resettling the new shirt as quickly as possible to Tavs usual exuberant praise. Astarion doesn't allow his face to reflect the genuine pleasure he feels under Tav's warmth, only smirking like the praise is his rightful due. But something must betray him anyway because when he looks up Wyll is staring at him knowingly. After a while Wyll stares at them all so knowingly that Shadowheart suggests jokingly that they kill him and Astarion jokingly says he’ll consider it. Jokingly of course.
Because by now yes it’s obvious they all enjoy both looking at Tav as she disrobes and also basking in her effusive praise after disrobing themselves. And the praise is never leering or sexual or delivered in a way that would make them uncomfortable. It’s simple honest appreciation for a gift hunted for, chosen, delivered and perceived.
The shoe is on the other foot literally however when it happens to Wyll. Shadowheart isn’t there so he and Lae'zel share amused glances as Wyll strips down to his boringly normal underwear and then into the outfit Tav has gathered for him. They watch with matching smirks as he obviously melts under her regard.
Then they meet Gale. Wyll is the one who approaches him and tells him, “Listen. There’s a thing that we all do and we never talk about.”
Tav is odd. But no one is asking her to change.