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After joining your camp, Halsin kept to himself for the most part. The state of the shadow-cursed lands ate at him, and his failures at the grove kept him from peaceful meditations. Yet, even when all that kept his mind occupied, one ray of light shone through it all. You. Ever since the first moment he met you, he felt the first inklings of a crush developing, and each passing day his feelings for you grew. He watched you from across the fire, tired to the bone, yet eating and laughing as natural as could be. It's truly a good circle Halsin ended up in, gratitude swelled in his chest.
After defeating Ketheric Thorm and lifting the shadow curse a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt free, for the first time in ages. Your light shone on him brighter than before, it drew him in like a moth to a flame. Surely, you must've noticed too. His little touches. How he didn't stray far from your side. How the bear shielded you from arrows in combat.
Yet... There was one small hurdle. Astarion.
You've bound yourself to him, and Halsin felt... off. It gnawed at him, and having not dealt with this wrong feeling of jealousy before, he didn't know how to handle it. It wasn't helped by Astarion's nature, who was a great flirt, but underneath that, he was unavailable. The love in your eyes when you looked at him wasn't mirrored in his. He would break your heart, sooner or later.
Bitterly, Halsin thought how much better off you'd be to seek comfort from his arms. He'd treat you right after another long day of exploring the wilds. After all, you had commented on feeling safe with him before. If Halsin wasn't too rusty after being archdruid for so long and interpreted the signs right; you were interested in him too. But... not as much as you were in Astarion. The pang he felt at that realisation only increased his bitterness.
He'd witnessed the song and dance of the two of you countless times already. Once every two or three days, Astarion would seek you out by the campfire, feeding you lines, soft and seductive. He'd say something about 'hungering for you' and you'd realise he hadn't fed in a couple days. Of course, you good soul, you sweet thing, would immediately offer to let him feed on you that night. The manipulation was easy for Astarion. Effortless. How would you feel when you realised you were just being used?
Halsin knew he shouldn't judge his traveling companion so harshly. After all, Astarion has been through the hells and back, with the scars to show for it. The pale elf was barely relearning to live life as his own person after 200 years of captivity and abuse. It was no wonder that he had bigger things to deal with than relationships, and that his own survival was constantly on his mind. Despite not being able to blame him, Halsin couldn't help feeling resentful. It was so unlike him that the intensity of such emotions scared him.
What had changed within him, that a crush would affect him this deeply? He never was one for jealousy, but these nights at camp were filled with it. Halsin sighed. He averted his eyes, staring into the fire. To the side, you chatted with Astarion, who promised you all kinds of pleasures, judging from the look on his face. And you ate it all up. No. Briskly, Halsin stood up and retreated to his small tent.
He was glad when he couldn't hear your laughter anymore. Soon, his elf ears would pick up other noises, and he'd escape into his meditations. Perhaps Astarion got under his skin this much, because you reminded him of himself, when he was younger. Naive and giving, he was. Perhaps he still is, in a way.
A darker part of him rose to the surface during that night's meditation. He recognised the hurt within that side of him, although he held it back, for the greater good of himself. It held all of his anger, jealousy, loneliness, hurt and bitterness. It didn't suit him to give in to those feelings. Yet, now that it had bubbled to the surface, it was difficult to stop the pot from boiling over. Turmoil and strive settled over him. He dug deeper, not wanting to let himself be swayed. Despite that, he knew how easy it would be to forge a plan of his own. Some gentle manipulations of his own. Only a few well-timed words, in just the right tone. That'd do it. After all, hadn't you shown your naivety already? When you realised Astarion's scheme, you'd cry on Halsin's shoulder, and he would show you what a sincere love felt like.
As the sun rose, the druid banished this scheme from his mind. He'd be no better than the pale elf, then. By thinking of you like someone to manipulate, he'd deny himself the healing that he worked so hard on achieving. He breathed in deep, feeling the clothes on his body stretch around the depth of his lungs, and exhaled, already feeling more like himself. His healed self. His kind, strong, self. Good. Better. This dawn, his inner strife was left behind.
Yet, in the morning, when he saw you tired and bloodless, Halsin's painstaking resolve crumbled.