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Astarion was prone to snits and sulks. Taran had known this from the start, and had fallen for him anyway. She tried to take it in stride, tried to extend the same grace to him that had been shown to her when her hurt was still fresh.
The problem was, another part of Astarion's personality was a demand for attention, particularly when he was in a sulk. He wanted to be pampered out of it, and sometimes Taran obliged. Sometimes she just left him be until his mood improved.
But sometimes the group was gathered around the fire, trying to figure out their next steps, and every suggestion was met with a snide remark from the shadow Astarion had chosen to brood in. Sometimes not even a remark; sometimes it was a sigh or a dry laugh that served the same purpose. The group tried to ignore him, even as Taran looked skyward for strength.
Lae'zel's patience broke first. "Silence your creature or I will take his tongue," she snapped at Taran, who threw her hands up in the air.
"Fine. Meeting adjourned." They snatched their staff from where it was leaning nearby and stormed past Astarion into the trees around their camp. Astarion had been about to make some cutting reply to Lae'zel's calling him a "creature", but instead his eyes followed Taran and the trail of irritated sparks that flew behind her.
Taran sat on a stump in a clearing, chin resting on their knees and eyes closed. She heard rustling in the trees around her, quiet but oddly deliberate.
They opened one eye as footsteps approached. "I'm mad at you."
"I know." Astarion sat on the ground next to her stump. His shoulders were slumped, face the very picture of misery - still in a dramatic sulk, but aimed in a different direction this time.
"Pouting at me won't help."
His expression smoothed, if only slightly. "I know that, too."
"You know you deserve this, right?" She gestured at herself. "I get to be mad at you when you're being a bastard."
"I know." His head tipped backwards, resting against her hip. She allowed it, for the moment. "I'm trying to be...better." His voice suggested the very concept was revolting.
"I know you are." Taran sighed, resting their forehead on their knees. "You just don't seem to expend that effort evenly." There was a pause. "It means you can't just not be a bastard to me," she clarified dryly.
"You're the only one worth the trouble." Taran sighed and Astarion turned around to face her. "Alright, alright, fine. I just..." He hesitated before resting his forehead against her leg. It seemed to be the only response he had.
"I'm spinning a lot of plates, here." Taran's voice was quiet. "It would be nice if I had a partner to help me keep them in the air. It's not that I don't trust the group but…" She sighed. "They're each their own individual plate, sometimes."
"And me?" Astarion didn't look up. Taran smiled softly, despite themselves.
"The most important plate." She threaded her fingers through his hair; he leaned into her touch. "You just keep knocking all the other plates all over the place. Opposite of helpful."
They were quiet for a long moment, just carding her fingers through Astarion's hair as the evening grew darker around them.
"This can work," she said quietly. "I want this to work. But you have to work with me, alright?"
"...it's going to get worse," Astarion said, sounding dejected. "When we get into the city. Even just being out here, seeing the walls, I..." He rested his weight more fully against her, bringing his arms up to wrap around her.
"And we will deal with that. But if you keep pissing Lae'zel off she's actually going to cut your tongue out. Maybe a few other parts of you. So try to keep the bastard thoughts on the inside, alright?"
"I promise to try."
"That's all I can ask."