Chapter Text
Wyll always thought he’d fall for someone gentle and soft, someone calm and level-headed, someone who turned away from violence. Someone whose courage was quiet, unlike his own.
He wanted someone who could level him out and bring him back down to earth when he got too caught up in monster slaying and defending the weak. He wanted someone who appreciated a dance under the stars or poetry in candlelight.
Castien wasn’t exactly the person Wyll had pictured, so it was a shock to him when he felt intrigued by the odd warlock elf who had a pact he didn’t remember about.
At first, it shook him and his companions how easily Castien fell into violence, how he seemed to relish it. He was reckless, like when he let Volo dig around his eye in an effort to fish out the tadpole or when he rushed in to kill the goblin priestess in front of her many followers.
But Lae’zel said it best, once: it wasn’t that he was reckless. He just craved blood.
Beneath the ease with which he wore violence like a second skin, Castien was also like a child. He trusted easily and without question; he was open and accepted everything as truth.
He was the complete opposite of what he thought he wanted and yet Wyll wanted him like he had never wanted anything or anyone.
“You know, darling,” Astarion was saying, inspecting his nails. “I think it’s dead.”
Castien stood over a gnoll, breathing hard. He smiled as he brought his greataxe down once more on its head.
“Can never be too sure around here,” he said, prying his blade from the mangled creature. He turned toward the cave, frowning. “I hear people in there.”
“To kill or to help?” Astarion asked.
“To help, Astarion,” Wyll chimed in. “Obviously.”
Castien hummed. “I don’t know,” he said. He looked at Wyll and smiled playfully. “Can never be too sure around here.”
Lae’zel started marching away from them towards Waukeen’s Rest. “Let us return to camp and resume our search for the crèche in the morning,” she said. “Those people are not our concern.”
“Well, if you meet a gnoll on your way back and live, I’d love to hear about it later,” Castien quipped, moving towards the cave. Lae’zel huffed.
Castien was a contradiction. He wasn’t a straightforward problem that Wyll could solve with a rapier. All this time he thought he wanted simplicity, but perhaps that wasn’t what fate had in store for him.
He followed Castien into the cave.