Work Text:
To be honest, Tav really doesn’t know which one is worse: fighting an entire army of cultists and the chosen of a god or having a terrible hangover. At this moment though, her answer may be more inclined towards the latter.
In hindsight, perhaps they shouldn’t celebrate so early, given they merely defeated one of the chosens of the Death Three. But when the idea was proposed, no one actually opposed it, even Jaheira herself. After all, the shadow curse was lifted, and they can finally be on their way to Baldur’s Gate.
Everyone had fun and nobody thought of slipping off elsewhere except Dame Aylin, who had disappeared with Isobel not long after the start of the celebration to “better adore my darling”. Other details of the rest of last night are lost to Tav, all she can remember is the laughter, the crackling of the fire, and the bitter taste of cheap alcohol. It is a miracle that she woke up in her own tent this morning, which she is now trying to pack away with a full-blown headache and a half-functioning brain.
Looking around, Tav can tell everyone is just as miserable as her. Astarion hasn’t stopped complaining about how even the sun couldn’t hurt him as bad as the liquor did; Lae’zel looks like she would kill everyone for just walking into three meters of space around her (compared to the normal one); Gale just whimpers pathetically every ten seconds. The rest of her companions are either packing their stuff extremely slowly, contemplating their life choices on the ground, or both.
The only one who is properly functioning is Jaheira. With what little memory Tav has of last night, the goblet was more like a decoration on the High Harper’s hand.
After putting most of her stuff into her bag, Tav finally moves on to the last pile of clothes before finishing up. They are mostly plain and well-worn, the life of an adventurer doesn’t exactly grant her the privilege of owning any piece of fabric with lace or embroidery. Sighing, Tav squats down and grabs a handful of them when something cold meets her fingers. Moving the clothes aside, Tav picks up a silver box with a frown.
The box itself is flat and small, with beautiful engravings of vines and stars on top. It looks very valuable and certainly doesn’t belong to her, yet it just appears in her belongings out of nowhere.
“Oh, that’s very pretty. Didn’t know you had something like that.” A female voice speaks from Tav’s left side. Looking over, Tav finds Shadowheart staring at the box in her hand while sitting on the ground with one leg up and massaging her temple.
“It’s not mine. I don’t know why it was there.” Tav answers, “Do you think it may belong to the others?”
“Hm, maybe?” Cocking her head, Shadowheart extends one hand towards Tav. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Sure.” Tav passes the box to Shadowheart, and she squints while studying the object.
“Curious, it’s sealed with magic.” After a few minutes of examination, Shadowheart declares. Not being particularly good with magic, Tav raises an eyebrow at this discovery.
“What kind of magic?”
“I can’t—”
“Why are you so slow here?” Both of them look up together at Lae’zel, who stands in front of them with her arms crossed.
“I found this box in my inventory but it’s not mine. Shadowheart said it’s sealed with magic. Is it yours?” Tav speaks up before Shadowheart has any chance to say anything. The hangover is causing enough of a headache for her, another argument between these two may very well be the last straw.
“ Bah. I have no use for flashy things like this, and I fail to see why it is important to return this box to its owner. If someone can’t watch over their property, they are not worthy of keeping it.” Lae’zel scorns, “But if you really want to find its owner, ask Astarion. This kind of thing seems to be his specialty.”
Tav can’t tell which specialty Lae’zel is referring to, dealing with flashy things or lost property, but she bets it’s more likely the former, given Astarion is normally the sole cause of the latter.
“Of course it’s not hers, why would she own anything other than deadly armories and a big ego ?”
“You are welcome to test how these two things combined can do to my enemies, Shadowheart.”
If Tav could cry, she would have done so already. Thankfully, someone manages to interrupt their argument before her head explodes. “Good morning, ladies. Did someone just mention my name?”
For once, Astarion’s voice lacks its usual theatrics, as its master strolls towards them. “Morning, Astarion. Do you own it?” Tav points at the box in Shadowheart’s hands. She offers the box to Astarion, who gives the box a quick inspection.
“Although I’m flattered that you assume such an exquisite thing would belong to me, I’m afraid I’m not the owner. And, if I’m correct, there is magic on it?” He passes the box back to Tav and asks.
Shadowheart stands up slowly and winces, her body sways slightly before steadying. “Yes, but I’m not familiar with this kind of magic.”
“Well, in that case, should we consult the expert? You know, a certain former chosen of the Goddess of Magic?” Astarion suggests with a small hand gesture and a raising brow.
Gale’s tent is on the other side of the camp, so the four of them walk a short distance to find the wizard sipping from a cup of steaming dark liquid. There is a look of confusion on his face as Gale watches them marching towards him.
“Good morning, how can I help?” Gale’s eyes shift between all four of them and finally rest on the box in Tav's hands.
Before Tav could answer, Astarion makes a face of disgust and yells, “What’s that vile thing you’re drinking?”
“Ah, this is viperleaf brew.” Gale holds out his cup for them to have a better look inside, “Don’t worry, I can assure you it is completely safe to consume. Contrary to popular belief, viperleaf is actually an excellent antitoxin when combined with garlic and stormroot. They can remove the toxicity of viperleaf itself and reverse the effect, making it a perfect cure for a hangover. In fact, I still have some left, so if any of you are interested, you’re more than welcome to have some.”
Tav would have laughed at the horrified expression on Astarion’s face if her headache had been less severe. “Gale, would you mind looking at this? We want to know what kind of magic is sealing the box.” Tav gives the silver box to Gale after he puts the cup down.
The box is turned upside down a few times while the crease between Gale’s brows deepens. A wave of his hand reveals the magical seal composed of runes on its surface. “The runes are written in Tiavan and Lueric, acting to preserve the content inside the box and prevent anyone other than those with permission from opening it. Where did you acquire it?”
Tav shrugs, “Found it with my clothes this morning, we were hoping to find its owner. It looks valuable, probably sentimental to someone too.”
“This is just a waste of time. We should have gotten on our way at this time.” Lae’zel glares at them and huffs.
“How about we just crack it open and find out what’s inside? Maybe it’d give us some ideas on the identity of this mysterious owner. You can surely do it, can't you?” Having moved a few inches away from Gale’s tent (and the viperleaf brew), Astarion narrows his eyes and gestures to the box.
Gale nods, “I could, but I don’t think this is a good idea. However, since you’re the one who found it, the choice is yours.” He looks at Tav indecisively.
Everyone turns their heads to her and waits for her response, and Tav really doesn’t want to deal with lost property with a throbbing headache and moderate dehydration anymore, so she sighs and nods. “Yeah, go for it.”
With a flash of blue light, the runes waver and gradually fade. All attention is drawn to Gale’s hand as it opens the lid cautiously, revealing the content inside: six pieces of heart-shaped chocolate, lying in two rows of three on a dark blue velvet lining.
“That is…unexpected.” Shadowheart is the first to speak up after a moment of sudden quiet. Apparently, that is also the only thought in everyone’s mind as no one makes any comment after her. And Tav immediately regrets her decision to open the box because now it only creates more questions than before.
With marvelous dexterity and a protest from the wizard, Astarion takes the silver box from Gale’s hands and starts probing it in different places. “It must be a trick, maybe some hidden mechanisms that could be triggered…”
“Hey! What’s cooking?” Putting both hands behind her head, Karlach walks alongside Wyll to join their group of five while Wyll greets everyone. Her usual joyfulness diminishes a bit, but still iconically Karlach. Upon noticing the chocolate, she lets out a yelp, “Aww! Astarion! Are you finally making a move?”
Dumbfounded, the vampire asks flatly, “What move?”
And it is Karlack’s turn to act surprised, “A move on Tav? Didn’t she mention it was a tradition for people to give chocolate to their crush in her hometown when we shared stories last night? I thought you were confessing to Tav.”
Frankly, Tav doesn’t remember she had ever said that last night, and judging by everyone’s reaction, the issue of memory loss is universal. But the implication of Karlach’s words…
“ Excuse me? ” The abrupt cry from Astarion causes all of them to wince at the same time, high volume is not exactly a good friend with a bad hangover after all. “You don’t seriously think I would do something so incredibly cliché as a love confession, do you? This is more of a Wyll or Gale—”
“ Te astringuo lingua !” Two different sets of panicked voices shout at the same time, followed by two transparent hemispheres overlapping with one another while shielding Astarion inside. Gale and Wyll lock eyes with each other awkwardly, both noticing the last pieces of Silence scrolls disappearing on their hands.
The high elf obviously hasn’t realized he has been silenced as his mouth continues to move for two more minutes before he is aware of the hemispheres. His look instantly changes from annoyance to anger. Stomping out of the spell’s area, he shoots daggers at the other two men, “How dare you! That was rude!”
“Forgive us, but I think none of us are able to handle anything louder than normal speaking volume after a night of alcoholic indulgence.” Gale bends forward with his hands behind his back and explains, though the apology is far from sincere.
A quarrel breaks out between the two of them, and Wyll has somehow gotten involved. Tav watches as chaos unfolds before her, the pounding inside her head getting more and more insufferable with each passing second. This is definitely not an ideal way to treat a hangover.
While the men are having a heated conversation, Karlach leans towards Tav, “Sorry, soldier.”
Tav shakes her head and hesitatingly asks, “So, Astarion likes me?”
“Not just Astarion, but every man in our party is in love with you, Tav.” Shadowheart answers with equal parts of weariness and amusement, “I’m actually surprised it took you this long to notice. They practically radiate hunger whenever they set eyes on you.”
“If a Githyanki is interested in someone, they will not be so cowardly about it.” Lae’zel reprimands, “I would never accept someone like them. Anyone who wishes to court me must express it clearly and firmly.”
There were indeed signs and hints here and there, but Tav didn’t give them much thought when they had an entire cult to fight and tadpoles to eliminate. “Does everyone know about this? Except me?”
Karlach gives her a wry smile, “Yeah, I think even Jaheira is aware of the whole thing. But hey! At least you know now!” Her words don’t provide as much encouragement as she intended but Tav knows she means well. The sudden revelation is quite shocking to Tav, since most of the time she was either covered in blood or bruises. Her companions do have some worrying traits, one way or another.
Besides them, the argument has died down and the men join their conversation once again. “So, if it was not from one of us, whom could it be?” Now holding the box of chocolate in his hands, Wyll states a new question.
“Maybe we should ask our big druid friend over there?” Gale gestures towards Halsin. The archdruid is currently chatting with Jaheira, their voices too low to be overheard.
Astarion snorts, “That bear of an elf? If there is anything sweet I believe it will end up in his stomach, not Tav’s tent.”
“Well, I suppose it’s worth asking.” Wyll leads the group towards the two druids, who have now taken notice of their approach.
“Oak Father preserve you, what do you need?” Halsin greets them with a warm smile despite the tiredness in his eyes. Jaheira, on the other hand, watches them with mirth.
Wyll explains the entire affair to him, which he listens to attentively. When Wyll is finished, Halsin looks at the silver box that has been passed to him and says, “This is not of my possession, however,” He shifts his gaze from the container to Tav, “If this is what you like, I can learn how to make it.” The softness in his eyes threatens to drown Tav, and he finishes the sentence with a slight nod, “ For you .”
Oh no , Tav thinks, oh dear gods .
All hell breaks loose.
“Ha! Don’t get ahead of yourself. I think you are the only one with a sweet tooth here, my bear friend.” Astarion hisses at Halsin before continuing, “Not to mention, if she ever wants some chocolate, I can take her to Wonna’s Laugh once we get to Baldur’s Gate. I’m very familiar with that city, my dear. And I know all the best places in town for some excellent night-time activities.” He turns to look at Tav with half-lidded eyes.
Next to him, Gale clears his throat. “I happen to know an outstanding lolly store back in Waterdeep, so if you are in need of some sugary food, you are most welcome to come with me after our business in Baldur’s Gate is done and, of course, survive . Hopefully, I can also show you around our remarkable City of Splendors.”
“I think Tav would like to stay in Baldur’s Gate for quite some time, Gale. Our great city has plenty in store to impress.” Wyll says proudly. “ Wonna’s Laugh is nice, but there is this shop called the Melting Heart which specializes in luxury chocolate. They only serve the upper class so it’s unlikely common folks would know about them.”
Astarion glowers at Wyll offensively. “Really? You’re pulling the high society card now?”
Unfazed, Halsin continues to talk to Tav, “Remember that honey cake I made, Tav? Not to be arrogant, but I’m quite good at making desserts.”
“Pardon me, if my memory serves me right, I have been the one making dinner for our little party every night. Besides, where did you find an oven in the Shadow-cursed Lands?”
“Nature always finds a way, my friend.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
Having heard the conversation between Gale and Halsin, Wyll interrupts, “The life of the Blade has taught me more than the ways of wielding swords and slaying monsters, Tav. Cooking is also one of them.”
“Oh darling, it may be surprising, but I’m something of a cook myself!”
“You’re a vampire, Astarion. What can you cook? Roast blood bag?”
“I could cook pretty well two hundred years ago , thank you very much.”
Amidst the mess, all the women have moved aside and crossed their arms in unison with different emotions in their expressions: exasperation on Lae’zel’s, resignation on Karlach’s, amusement on both Shadowheart’s and Jaheira’s. The druid even starts talking to Scratch and the owlbear cub.
As the root cause of this farce, Tav feels obliged to put an end to it, but all of her efforts of trying to make them shut up have been in vain. Seriously, one would think an archdruid, a former chosen of a goddess, an ex-magistrate, and the Blade of Frontiers would have more control of themselves.
While everyone is busy arguing or watching the show (or being the peacemaker in Tav’s case), two silvery figures approach them from afar. A bellow startles the group and finally does the job for Tav, “ What are you doing with my gift? ”
Turning their heads, everyone watches as Dame Aylin stands a few inches away from them with Isobel on her arm. The cleric of Selûne looks suspiciously tired while Dame Aylin looks as dignified as ever. The aasimar stares at the silver box and roars in anger, “Thieves!”
“Aylin, I’m sure there must be some misunderstanding.” Isobel immediately tries to calm her lover down by putting a hand on her armor-clad upper arm.
“Wait, this is yours?” Astarion cries incredulously.
“Of course! This is my gift to my darling Isobel. Chocolate is her favorite!” Her wings spread out a bit along with her words.
Tav thinks she may need to drink the viperleaf brew later, preferably with some powerful painkiller potion.
Wyll asks in confusion, “Then why was it in Tav’s tent?”
“I think our canine friend here may have an answer to that question,” Jaheira speaks up and all attention is drawn to the white dog who is now wagging his tail enthusiastically. “He said he found a beautiful box last night and wanted to give it to Tav this morning but she was sleeping longer than usual, so he put it in her den.”
“So, after all this time, it was not any of us, it was the dog. And all of us failed to notice it.” Gale concludes, “How dramatic.”
“ Chk . I told you, this has been a waste of time. Just get this over with and move on, k'chakhi .” Lae’zel rolls her eyes and walks back to pick up her bag.
Jaheira gets the silver box from Halsin and gives it back to Dame Aylin, and Karlach takes up the role of explaining everything to the two servants of The Moonmaiden, leaving just Tav, Shadowheart, and the four men behind.
The half-elf eyes them one by one, “Well, at least now we know how and why it happened, don’t we?” She remarks, a wicked smile slowly spreading on her face. “Although, you may now have other ‘how and why it happened’ to explain to someone.” With that, she leaves to get her bag, totally ignorant of what she has gotten Tav into.
The remaining of them watch as the cleric leaves, and when four heads turn to her simultaneously, Tav has only one thought in mind as four pairs of eyes set on her.
Fuck me.
