Work Text:
The afternoon drifts lazily along in our camp. It's rare we get a moment's pause, let alone a day or two to rest. Everyone is whiling away the afternoon in their own way. Gale reads from some book of arcana and conjures the weave with his free hand. Lae'zel sharpens her sword and checks it over for any nicks. Halsin is roaming the forest somewhere in his bear form. Wyll is preparing some food for our evening meal. Karlach and Shadowheart are supposed to be taking inventory of our supplies, but they are chatting away happily. Temerity is suffering through another headache and went to lie down. I haven't seen Astarion in a little while, so I assume he's joined Halsin to try for another hunt. I decide to take some time to channel my ki and do a little training. I walk a little distance from the camp, not so far that the others can’t see me, into a patch of grass. I take off my boots and step into the grass. I prefer to feel the ground under my bare feet when I practise. The grass feels warm between my toes as the sun has beat down on it all day.
I look at the sun which has started to sink lower in the sky, bathing everything in a golden light. I briefly pause to admire the beautiful shades of orange and pink the sky is turning as the sun continues to set. I inhale deeply and close my eyes as I position myself into my first stance. My feet are shoulder width apart, my palms come together as if to pray. I lift my arms slowly above my head, palms still together, and concentrate on the air around me. As my arms extend to their fullest I feel the familiar hum of energy start to pour into my body.
I pull my hands apart and open my arms, moving them in a half circle back down to my sides, before balling my hands into fists and positioning them in front of me, ready to strike. I drop into my second stance, my right foot moving back as I prepare to push forward. My fists move in slow jabs against an invisible enemy. I feel my ki pool into my chest before it travels down my arms and into my fists. I open my eyes and see the air almost vibrate around my hands as I continue to move.
My movement remains deliberately slow to better feel the ki flow through me before I speed up into proper practising. As I position myself into my third stance I spot Astarion walking through the camp toward me. Not wanting to break my concentration, I give him a slight nod and continue to breathe slowly and purposefully as my body moves. He saunters over and leans against a tree a few feet away. I pay him no mind and carry on.
I crouch slightly and swing my fists slowly as I swerve carefully from one side to the other. Dodging imagined foes as my blows land. I straighten up again and bend backwards, arms crossing my chest to protect myself, my tail stretching under my legs to skim along the ground. As my back is about to snap I reach my arms behind myself, finding purchase on the ground and pushing against it. My feet leave the ground and I propel myself upright again.
“I forget just how flexible you are,” Astarion's breathy voice penetrates my focus.
“Used to be an acrobat,” I reply flatly. Not trying to sound rude or disinterested, but I can't practise the meditation and talk at the same time, which Astarion is well aware of.
“Yes I remember darling, very distinctly, you showing me your talents,” he says with a smirk. He also is fully aware that I used to be an acrobat, and that I have told him plenty of stories about it, not just shown him my flexibility.
I squint at him and look away, ignoring the comment. I’m not going to take the bait. I close my eyes and focus on the ki reverberating through my limbs. I lift my left leg a foot or so off the ground and sweep it upwards and away from myself, my body rolling with the movement. My right leg follows and forms a slow kick through the air. I feel the energy flow through my leg and out of my foot, propelling outwards and causing the grass to rustle as I come back to a standing position.
“My, I didn’t know your legs could move so far apart,” Astarion makes another lewd comment.
I continue to ignore him and press on through the next stance as the ki within me grows. I bring my arms in front of me and slam my palms together, fingers spread. A wave of energy releases from me and sends a small shockwave through the grass. Astarion lifts his brows and smirks wider still as he sees the grass flutter around me. I separate my hands and lock my elbows against my ribs. I ball my hands into fists again and clench my jaw. My tail snaps behind me like a whip. I straighten my back and let out a sharp breath from my nose. My ki is vibrating through me now that I am warmed up. I start to jab and kick the air around me, weaving and spinning as I go. Feeling the energy flowing through my body and out into the world as I strike.
The quiet scenery before me falls away as I picture myself making contact with foes in my imagination. As I get faster I start to grunt a little as my blows meet their target. My fantasy battle fades as my heel hits the ground harder than I intended and leaves a small divot in the grass. I hear Astarion softly laugh.
“Were anyone listening to this without looking they would think you were having some alone time in your tent.”
I pick my foot off the grass and reset my position. I glance over at him and settle into the third stance again. “Bored are we?” I ask as I look away and make two strikes in front of me.
“Yes, obviously,” Astarion says sardonically.
My ki flares through my arms as I continue to punch the nothingness around me. Astarion watches me and huffs loudly. He behaves like such a moody teenager sometimes. Then I remember that he was turned so young, and he essentially is a permanently moody teenager.
“You’re distracting me,” I scowl.
“I know, I’m good at it too,” he beams at me.
“No one else to pester? I thought you’d joined Halsin for a hunt?” I feel my ki waver as I direct my attention to speaking to him. I centre myself and slow my breathing again.
“Halsin’s gone for a nap in the afternoon sun with Temerity. Says as it gets closer to winter he grows wearier,” Astarion pouts. I know he’s really enjoyed their hunting sessions together. I’m glad for it as it makes things between the three of us considerably less awkward and sometimes Astarion’s need for attention overwhelms me. It pleases me that they can share an activity and be closer. I’ve joined them a handful of times when I had the extra energy to.
“Nearly time for bears to hibernate,” I muse.
“Well I wish he would put it off a little. It’s not as if he’s a real bear. He can remain in elf form through the winter,” he continues to whine.
“Well he’s been half bear so long he may as well be a real one. You’ll need to find other hobbies for the winter months Star,” I respond, trying not to sound frustrated.
“I quite like watching you move like this. Does that count as one?” he jokes.
“Can you do so quietly?” I retort.
“Darling you know I’m anything but quiet, especially when it involves you, hells the whole camp knows that” he giggles. We haven’t partaken in each other in quite a while, not since we decided we needed to take time to enjoy our relationship in other ways, but that hasn’t stopped him from being an intense flirt. He takes great delight in getting me too flustered to concentrate on my training. I sigh and look at him directly. If he’s so determined to interrupt me I may as well make him useful.
“Why don’t you stop being a distraction and help me?” I offer.
“Thought you’d never ask, how shall I help you? ” he leers and steps away from the tree, moving towards me. I hold up a hand to stop him. He pauses and raises an eyebrow.
“Not in whatever way your dirty mind is thinking,” I scold him mockingly. “I know what you’re doing, but I want to practise. See that chest? Pick it up and take it back to the tree you were leaning on,” I point to a small chest by the supply tent. It’s full of weapons we’ve looted as we travelled to sell or trade whenever we stop at a settlement of some kind. He spots the chest and collects it, returning to the tree. He opens it up and I tell him to look for any small daggers it may be holding. He retrieves about a dozen and lays them in front of him.
“I’m guessing you want me to throw these at you?” Astarion asks as he picks up one of the daggers and turns it over in his hand.
“You can help me test my speed and dexterity,” I beam at him in an identical fashion he did earlier.
He makes a face at me. “Really darling, do you think this is a good idea? What if you get hurt? I wouldn’t want to damage that pretty little face of yours.”
A short, hard laugh escapes me. “You’re dramatically overestimating your abilities, or grossly underestimating mine. Either way – don’t insult me. Throw.” I command. Astarion frowns at me and grips the handle of the dagger tightly. I knew that would get to him. I drop my right leg back and slam my palms together again. My ki instantly pulses through me as I do so.
“As you wish my sweet, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he grins menacingly, baring his fangs. I grin back at him and feel my own canines touch my lips. He takes the dagger by the blade, lifts it up by his face then with a quick flick of his wrist, he looses it toward me. It spins through the air and flies straight at my chest. As it comes closer I hear it cutting through the air. I push onto my foot and rock back catching the handle of the dagger in my left hand. I tilt my head and smirk at Astarion. He looks mildly surprised for a moment, then a dark smile settles on his face. This little game appeals to his violent nature.
“Don’t go easy on me Fangs, you can do better,” I push him. I pitch the dagger back at him and it pierces the trunk of the tree. I want to see what he can really do.
“Only a warmup my dear, just you wait,” he laughs. Not a second after the laughter leaves his lips, so too does he pull the same dagger from the tree with his left hand. This time it comes sailing toward my face. I throw my leg up and flip backwards, kicking the dagger behind me as I go. It thuds harmlessly into the grass somewhere nearby.
“Impressive!” Astarion calls out. “How about this then?” he has picked up two daggers from the grass and uses both hands to throw them at me. I duck my head out of range of one and punch the other on a lower trajectory into the dirt.
We continue like this for a few minutes. I dodge or catch the daggers as they whizz through the air and send them back to Astarion for him to launch at me again. I start to pant a little from the exertion and I can see Astarion is working up a sweat himself. He pauses his assault on me briefly to untie the laces on his shirt and let a little more air flow to his skin. I watch him pull at his shirt and expose more of his chest, his pale skin glistening in the setting sun. I feel a slight twinge in my belly. I shake my head and push that feeling away. I refocus on my ki and wait for Astarion’s next move.
He holds a dagger up high over his head, but as I watch that one he flicks another dagger he was holding closer to his hips at me. This one flies at my shins, and I manage to jump back and kick it with a sweep of my leg. I prepare for the next dagger, but I see Astarion tug at his shirt a little, trying to get some air under the cloth. The same twinge inside me comes back. My ki wavers again and my breath stutters in my throat. Before I can regain my attention on him, Astarion has fired off two more daggers, one after the other. One is low like before, aiming for my legs, and the other is higher up, flying at my face. I sweep around and smack the first out of the way with my tail but as I come back around for the second I falter and instead of deflecting the blade spinning through the air, I simply hold my left hand up to shield my face. The sharp metal pierces my hand and comes to a shuddering stop as the cross guard of the hilt meets my palm. The tip of the blade is no more than an inch from my nose.
“Ahh – argh!” a choked wet noise escapes my throat. My arm drops and I catch it with my other hand, staring wide eyed at the dagger sticking through my palm.
“Shit, Kyrus!” Astarion shouts and runs over to me. “Oh my gods, my sweet, I’m so sorry!” he apologies profusely. I don’t acknowledge him; the adrenaline is shooting through me so abruptly I can barely hear him.
He comes up next to me and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Let me see it,” he says much softer, but still with panic in his voice. He takes my wrist and moves the hand with the knife in it a little so he can see the damage. “We can fix this, nothing a health potion or a healing word or two won’t be able to mend,” he reassures me, though it feels more like he’s reassuring himself.
“Are you alright, my love?” he squeezes my wrist gently, trying to snap me out of my shock.
“Ugh, yes. I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” I grimace, wiggling my fingers to check they still work.
“Gods, Kyrus, don’t move your hand! Come on, we need to get this sorted out,” he scolds me and turns me towards the camp, marching me into the centre of it. I keep hold of my arm with my other hand. The dagger is keeping the blood from pouring out of me.
“Sit, darling, I’ll get Shadowheart,” Astarion lightly pushes me down to my bedroll by the campfire. I sit down and keep my eyes on the metal protruding from my hand. A few moments later Astarion returns with Shadowheart and Karlach in tow.
“Oh Fangs, you weren’t kidding, look at that!” Karlach winces as she sees the dagger sticking through my hand.
“What in the hells were you two idiots doing?” Shadowheart sighs as she kneels in front of me, taking my wrist in her hands and moving it to get a better look.
“I was helping Kyrus train! They wanted to test their speed and dexterity,” Astarion asserts as he plops down helplessly next to me.
“Oof, Knuckles it’s not like you to be so off your game, what happened?” Karlach asks as she watches Shadowheart hold my wrist straight and inspect the handle of the blade.
“I told you, you were distracting me Star,” I laugh faintly.
“What do you mean?! You’re the one that goaded me into hurling knives at you!” Astarion bristles and scowls at me. I take my eyes off my hand and look at Astarion, raising my brows slightly at him. A flash of understanding lights up his face before he returns a more sinister look.
“It’s not my fault my beauty is not something you can help being affected by when you fight, dear,” he purrs.
“You’re both ridiculous,” Shadowheart rolls her eyes, but a little smirk betrays her. “This is going to start bleeding as soon as I pull the blade free, hold it over the ground or else you’ll stain your bed roll.”
“I’ll pull the blade out, you be ready with the incantation,” Astarion says. Shadowheart nods and I brace myself.
“Alright, Kyrus. On three. One, two, three.” Astarion counts down then pulls out the dagger. Blood manages to spurt out a little as Shadowheart recites the healing words. A small flash of green light covers my hand and disappears, leaving no wound, nor mark behind.
“There we are, all better!” Shadowheart smiles and lets go of my wrist.
“Thank you, Shadowheart.” I smile at her. “Sorry for the bother.”
“No bother at all, I find your injuries hilarious. What will you come to me with next time I wonder? Though if it is the result of some sort of failed sexcapade I will not be healing you,” she teases. Karlach laughs heartily next to her.
“Don’t worry Shadowheart, we have potions for that,” Astarion smirks.
“Of course you do,” Shadowheart rolls her eyes and laughs.
Astarion looks at the dagger he’s still holding and pitches it into the dirt next to the small puddle of my blood that has soaked into the dry earth by the campfire. "Such a waste," he tuts.
“I'm sure Knuckles has more where that came from!” Karlach snickers and reaches down to ruffle my hair.
“I would prefer it not come out of the only weapons I have,” I laugh quietly.
“I would never darling, hands are much too difficult to feed from anyway,” Astarion wrinkles his nose at the idea.
“There's a pun in there somewhere. Something about biting the hand that feeds?” Karlach muses.
“Oh please don't,” Astarion sighs, “Puns are the lowest form of comedy.”
I suppress a smile at his hatred of puns unless he’s making them and look at my no longer injured hand. I wiggle my fingers before flexing my palm. I form a fist and flex a few times over. Then I punch Astarion playfully in the arm.
“Ow! What was that for?!” he grasps his arm, grunting in mock pain.
“For distracting me!” I chuckle.
“Do you see what I have to put up with? Now Shadowheart needs to heal me too!” he pretends to whine.
“I’ve seen you take worse, you’ll survive a small punch I’m sure,” Shadowheart smiles and stands up next to Karlach.
“Yes you’re right, I barely feel it now. Think you might need to work more on your strength dear,” Astarion smirks at me.
I smirk back and tackle him, sending him falling backwards. I scramble on top of him, pinning him in place.
“Only my strength yeah? Not my speed?” I laugh, tickling as much of him as I can reach. He squirms and pushes against me, but has trouble moving due to how much he’s giggling.
“I think this is where we take our leave,” Shadowheart shakes her head with a laugh.
“Bets on who wins?” Karlach chuckles as they turn towards the supply tent and walk away. Astarion’s laughter fills the camp as we roll around on the ground, sharing a movement of joy amid the chaos that is our ongoing situation.