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The group sat around the campfire, each with their own portions of the hearty meal that Gale crafted with his vast cooking knowledge.
Everyone was too tired from the day and many fights to talk whilst eating, leaving the air quiet, aside from the sound of food being eaten.
It didn’t take long for Shadowheart’s gaze to land on a certain person who made, without a doubt, the most noise out of the circle.
Lae’zel was hunched on a log and eating her food with the least amount of grace possible. The Gith held a large cut of cooked meat between two pieces of sliced bread, apparently oblivious to the juice dripping from her hands down to her forearms. Her face held lingering spots of sauce and more juice from the large bundle of food she tightly held together.
It wasn’t quite animalistic, Lae’zel being careful to not drop anything or move too hastily, Shadowheart thought, it was simply messy and loud. Emphasis on messy. It was undignified, something Shar would find abhorrent in her own followers.
Laezel was not oblivious to the half-elf who sat with perfect rigid posture across the fire from her, watching intently as she consumed her meal. The Gith scoffed when she caught how Shadowheart carefully ate her food in the way a mouse would nibble on cheese.
The Sharran was using tools to delicately slice and pick up her food, which annoyed Lae’zel. To githyanki culture, eating with tools is a waste of time and resources. Why create and clean the utensils after each use when you had two perfectly fine hands and sharp teeth to use instead?
However, what bothered the Gith the most was the stupid dignified manner in which Shadowheart ate. The way she carefully cut and bit into such small pieces was a tragedy. Lae’zel also knew that Shadowheart was too anxious about her appearance when eating in front of others that it took away from truly enjoying the meal and all its wonderful taste.
So, while Shadowheart stared with contempt towards Lae’zel, Lae’zel only pitied Shadowheart.
Gale’s dinner tonight was made with the intention of using your hands, yet Shadowheart ate with a fork and knife. Even Wyll seemed content to allow his hands to get messy from the delicious meal. Eventhough Shadowhearts’s method was the most graceful of the group of travelers, it consistently made her the last person to finish, leaving her alone by the fire while she continued to methodically dissect her food. It was, Shadowheart loathed to admit, lonely.
Shadowheart looked over at Karlach and found the Tiefling tearing away at the meaty food with the same reverence as Lae’zel but somehow quieter. Maybe Lae’zel relished in making others hear her slurp the juice from the meat, a stupid githyanki thing about pride and strength. Either way, Shadowheart grew more annoyed by the second, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away at the efficiency, and mirth?, the Gith consumed her food.
“Enjoying the show istick?” Lae’zel pinned Shadowheart’s eyes with an intense and teasing glare. Shadowheart didn’t realize she was staring long enough for the Githyanki to catch her staring, she was a Sharrite who was desperately losing her touch it seems.
The half-elf responded quickly lacing her words with malice, “I’m simply gawking at the animalistic way you eat your food. Your table manners could put a bear to shame.”
The rest of the party stopped their movements and stared at the two women locked in a staring contest, indecisive on whether to stop the two from getting into yet another verbal turned physical fight or if the two could resolve the issue themselves. After a moment of pause, the general consensus seemed to be to sit back and watch the fight unravel, a little show to go with their otherwise quiet dinner. Most of them were finished with their meals anyway, if things got bad they could always leave the two to punch or kiss it out.
Not removing her eyes from the Sharran’s, Lae’zel slowly moved her mouth to the crook of her elbow and licked a line of grease all the way to her wrist, effectively cleaning the skin with her tongue. Shadowheart’s nostrils flared with anger and…something else. Something that the hardened battle warrior did not miss, even if the half-elf convinced herself that she was good at masking her feelings. Lae’zel didn’t find her so hard to read as she led others to believe.
“Jealous?” The cocky grin on the Gith’s face only made Shadowheart more angry.
The Cleric violently blushed and quickly calmed herself as she decided the Gith was not clever enough for her response to have such a lewd double meaning.
She cleared her throat, ensuring her voice was void of the embarrassment of the sudden confrontation she was met with.
“Quite the opposite in fact. Is there a reason you suckle at your food for all of Fearun to hear? Or are you simply too daft and oblivious to the gross noises you make each night?” Shadowheart hoped her words stirred the Gith with rage or would make Lae’zel admit there wasn’t a logical reason to her eating habits aside from being careless and crass.
Cleaning the last remaining bits of her meal on her hands by sucking on her fingers, knowing how Shadowheart would follow each movement, Lae’zel sent a smirk towards the dark Sharran. She knew the real reason the half-elf was so enamored with the way she ate her food. Two reasons actually, one, being the way Shadowheart’s gaze would linger on lithe her form, and two, the Cleric was obviously jealous but too stubborn to admit it.
“In truth, I pity you. You consume food while trying to seem overly dignified. You can hardly enjoy the taste, denying yourself true pleasure.”
“Oh? And I thought all the Githyanki cared about was strength and efficiency. However, you eat with the grace of a bear because it makes the food more enjoyable?”
At this point, most of the gang slowly left the fire to return to their tents for the night. They knew the fight wouldn’t end with one of them dead or in a kissing match of dominance, and with the opportunity for a fun show gone, the tiredness of the day set in for each traveller.
Lae’zel turned to Shadowheart to reply,
“Yes, exactly, little Sharran. The way you eat is void of self-pleasure, a true waste for such succulent meals. Perhaps you’ve wished to do the same, only to focus your resentment on me instead.”
Shadowheart pauses, quickly realizing what Lae’zel says might be true. The way Laezel unabashedly ate her food free of anxiety seemed pleasant. Maybe there was something about making a mess to enjoy a good meal. And the latest show of her tongue was, horribly arousing, against Shadowheart’s wishes.
Never one to admit her insecurities, especially ones that the Gith correctly discovers first, Shadowheart gives a half-hearted reply she hoped sounded annoyed but instead sounded rather wistful.
“Hardly. I have zero interest in looking like a rabbid animal while eating, thank you.”
Lae’zel shrugs a shoulder and walks to her tent. Leaving Shadowheart to sit alone at the fire, again, with her food only half eaten.
———————
Traveling in Faerun had its perks and one of them was the many taverns and inns they could sleep and eat in.
Currently, the party was split between laughing and exchanging stories with the bar keep, and eating a warm meal near the large fire.
Lae’zel watched Shadowheart from the bar with a drink in hand, shaking her head in disapproval. The Cleric attempting and failing miserably to eat a large leg of roasted bird with a fork and knife.
Shadowheart grimaced as she placed down the utensils, deciding on whether she would cast away her dignity and manners for a decent bite of food. The sound of footsteps behind her caused Shadowheart to look over her shoulder at a stern looking Gith.
“Take it and follow me.” Lae’zel started to move and Shadowheart grabbed her arm to stop her.
Shadowheart frowned, “Take what? Follow you where?”
Surprises were NOT Shadowheart’s favorite and she sure as hell didn’t like surprises from Lae’zel. Namely because Lae’zel’s surprises usually ended up being grueling sparring matches.
Lae’zel seemingly understood that she rarely invited the Sharrite to go anywhere without combat involved, so she made her voice a little softer…a little.
“There’s a table outside. Bring the plate.”
Shadowheart was unconvinced there wasn’t an ulterior and more sinister motive, “Why?”
Lae’zel didn’t think thoroughly enough for her plan to include lies to lure Shadowheart to follow her. She said the first thing that came to mind, “The weather is adequate.”
A single raised eyebrow was the Cleric’s response, her face still conveying distrust.
“It’s loud in here and I request company.” Lae’zel shifted on her feet, annoyed at the amount of effort her plan is requiring.
Finally relenting, Shadowheart knew Lae’zel was going to keep giving false reasons, so she grabbed her plate and followed the Gith. It wasn’t like the Githyanki would stab her while she ate, would she?
The pair came of a table just outside of the tavern, the area empty save for a few people milling about near the edge of the street.
Lae’zel motioned at the seat on the opposite side of the wooden table built for two people.
Shadowheart grinned, “Is this a romantic date? I didn’t take you for the type Lae’zel.”
A scoff was released from the Gith as Shadowheart lowered into the seat still holding her plate.
“Please, this only serves to help you get the stick from out your pretty ass.”
“WHAT?!”
Shadowheart’s chest nearly burst open at the response from Lae’zel, who wasn’t smiling but seemed rather serious. She was too shocked for now to dwell on it, but later would definitely replay the word “pretty” used to describe her ass from the Gith.
Shadowheart remained silent, unsure what the Gith meant about her having a stick up her ass.
“You eat like a damns mouse. I refuse to allow you waste such food in a way. Now eat.”
‘Oh’ Shadowheart thought to herself. Again, the Githyanki seemed to surprise her with another Faerun metaphor, one that she was shocked was used correctly.
Lae’zel sighed for probably the one hundredth time tonight, “What stops you?”
Still reeling from the earlier statement from Lae’zel, Shadowheart grumbled, “It’s gross and messy to eat with your hands.”
“T’ch. There is such a thing as washing your hands after a meal, Little Sharran.”
“Stop calling me Little, I’m quite literally taller than you.”
“Eat the bird, Shadowheart.”
The constant urging by Lae’zel and being told what to do by the Gith set her on edge, “WHY are you so insistent on this?”
“Because you refuse yourself indulgence and satisfaction. You care what others think, allow their perception to stop you from enjoying what is yours. I cannot sit and watch you pout at yet another dish. Pick it up with your hands and take a true bite from the leg.”
Lae’zel’s eyes burned with conviction, unyielding from Shadowheart’s displeased expression.
“You know what? Fine!”
With that, Shadowheart angrily grabbed the cooked bird leg and took a large bite, tearing it with her teeth.
“Good. Now again.”
Mouth full of food, Shadowheart thinks to groan-aloud at Lae’zel but finds the taste in her mouth to be, unexpected, pleasant, more full of flavor.
She swallows the food and remains silent. Relishing the difference between using a fork and knife, and without.
Lae’zel says nothing as Shadowheart goes for another bite and finishes it before placing the bone back on the table.
Her hands are covered in juices and bits of meat from the meal, she looks down at them, unsure how to feel with dirty fingers.
“Here.”
Shadowheart looks up to see Lae’zel standing close and offering her a cloth that was partially wet. Shadowheart didn’t know where it came from, but it must’ve been preplanned before they came outside. With a gentle hand, The Cleric takes the rag and slowly cleans herself with it.
“Was it different?” Lae’zel slightly tilted her head, genuinely curious.
A moment of silence and then a soft, “Yes.”
“Good. I’ve checked the surrounding area. It is safe, for now. I will go inside and retire for the night. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
With that, Lae’zel briskly turns away and walks into the tavern, leaving Shadowheart to sit alone at the table.
The Sharran looks back at the tavern door the Gith walked in and then down at the bone with meat still on it.
After a few moments, Shadowheart picks up the bone and takes another deep bite. The juice from the meat runs down the corner of her mouth and to her chin. She quickly snatches the partially wet cloth and wipes it away, afraid that anyone saw.
She hurriedly glances around her and sees that no one would have seen her slip-up.
With a sigh of relief, she continues to gnaw at the bone until there is almost nothing left.
Lae’zel grins from her spot at the bar when Shadowheart shuffles into the tavern a few minutes later with an impressively polished bone stripped of any scraps.