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Maybe tonight could finally be the night.
It was no surprise that Jocasta was not a bard. Bards were supposed to be charismatic, charming, and cool. And the second rogue in the wilderness camp certainly was not any of those things. She was tall and awkward and clumsy, and talked herself into a corner. Constantly.
Falling from a nautiloid ship and finding a sparse group of survivors hadn't been expected, to say the least, but Jocasta would be lying if she said she wasn't fond of them. Wyll was heroic and brave, Shadowheart always supported her, Karlach a bundle of energy and positivity, and Gale a good best friend. Lae'zel was quite bristly at times, but Jocasta was slowly warming to her. And then Astarion.
She really hadn't gone into this expecting to be taken by him. But she liked people of all sorts. She'd been teased too many times now about falling in love a little bit with everyone she meets, and she never really had a good comeback for it. It felt true. Even several of the Tieflings she'd helped in the Grove had secured special places in her heart. Her companions even more, as she spent every day with them.
But as for Astarion. Gods, dammit, she couldn't help it. It was something In the way he spoke. He could be so mean, and yet he had a purr to his voice and a way he leaned in when he spoke to her. When the vampire crouched over her neck on one of the first nights she had set up camp, her heart had pounded in her chest, and against her own better judgment, she let him feed on her.
Ever since then, she'd had it bad for him. A lovestruck curse, she called it, though only to herself. She'd rather die than face the teasing of her companions if they knew she liked the vampire. It felt so embarrassing, and she didn't know why. Every time she spoke to him, it felt like she put her foot in her mouth. She felt giddy looking at him after that night, catching glances across the campsite, looking away when Astarion finally felt her eyes and spotted her. It was in the way he leaned in to speak with her, the way he talked, a slight flirty tone behind every word. And yet, in the same breath, he'd roll his eyes at her. Make a sarcastic comment. Some days he greeted her with, “Oh, hello darling,” and others simply with an indifferent, “Yes?”
She could pull her hair out some nights. Did he like her? Tolerate her? Wish he had fed on her to death and not revived her? What an unreadable man.
But today was good. She was out with her group, slowly making their way through the wilderness as they stumbled through their quest to find a cure for their plight. Jocasta had helped Astarion in a fight, getting in the way of a blasted spell aimed for him, and in reply, Astarion sneak attacked a guard on her behalf, saving her. They seemed even now, and Astarion, soaked in blood, seemed to be in a brilliant mood.
As such, now that they sat around the campfire, Jocasta felt brave. Okay, perhaps brave was not the correct word. It skirted the edges of bravery. Feeling shaky and sweaty at the same time was more along the lines of how she was feeling. But with how well things had gone today, she was just waiting for most of her friends to go to bed before she approached Astarion.
She poked around her bowl of stew by the fire, purposely keeping it lit with a few more logs to keep herself awake. Hells, she was nervous about this. She had rehearsed it in her head several times now, but her words always came out wrong.
Hi, Astarion, beautiful night we're having. Do you happen to like me back or do you hate every part of my presence around you?
Hi, Astarion, thank you for saving my life today. By the way, I have intense feelings for you, I hope that's alright.
Hi Astarion! You may very well be the most handsome individual I've ever met. Do you feel the same, or are you mostly repulsed by me? Either answer is fine.
Hi, Astarion! If I happened to hypothetically ingest poison, and hypothetically, the ONLY cure for this poison, was to kiss me on the mouth, would you, hypothetically, do that to same my life? Hypothetically?
Godsdammit. She was doomed.
***
Shadowheart finally got up for her drink, and Jocasta used her movement as an excuse to get up as well. Distracted from the conversation anyway, she had been watching Astarion polish his dagger at his own tent, opting to sit further away from the fire. She picked up a bowl of the stew and took her chance while everyone was distracted with a story from Wyll.
She stood there in front of Astarion's tent, looking long and lanky and awkward with two bowls of soup in hand, and she met him with a wide smile as soon as he looked up from his work.
Of all the things that could have come out of her mouth in that moment, even Jocasta herself was surprised when she blurted out, “Good evening, Astarion! Do you like soup?”
She wished the earth would just swallow her whole in that moment when the rogue looked back at her, puzzled.
She held the bowl out to him like she had forgotten that was why she came over, and then tried to cover up her awkwardness with more talking before he could even get a word out.
“You hadn't gotten any and I wanted to make sure you had some. It's a meat stew— you're not a vegetarian right?” And then she floundered. “Oh, right, of course not. Because of the… blood thing. Right— so this is fine? I mean— it doesn't have any blood IN the soup— but— I could find something to put into it for you! I don't think there's any garlic in it either? Does that… does garlic actually bother you, since you're a vampire?! I can make a fresh batch if you need—!”
Astarion finally held up his hand to make the taller elf fall silent, fumbling her way to a pause after she'd talked herself right into a corner. Astarion chuckled, and she didn't like how she couldn't tell if it was of amusement or annoyance.
“The stew is fine as it is.” Astarion answered, taking the bowl from her and placing it to the side for now. “Though I doubt you've come here simply to talk to me about dinner.”
Jocasta felt like her heart was in her throat. Soup?! Soup!? She talked to the man of her desires about a fucking soup?! She wanted to pass away on the spot. Maybe Astarion could use her as one more snack. Her face was blush red and she hadn't moved an inch, hand now clasped at her side with no bowl in it.
“Oh— uh, yeah. I, um, I just wanted to check.” She stammered.
“And nothing else?” Astarion raised an eyebrow.
“Well, also, I wanted to thank you— for saving me earlier. That one guard you took out? That was… that was nice of you.”
Astarion had his arms folded, but took one to gesture with, the other arm still resting across him, hand tucked at the elbow as he moved and spoke.
“I wouldn't go so far as to call it nice, as I would ‘mutually beneficial,’ however your praise is accepted,” he smirked.
“Well, uh— mutually beneficial or not, I'm short a few stab wounds thanks to you, so, I… I appreciate it.”
There was a beat too long of silence between them, Jocasta feeling her own eyes flickering around Astarion's features, following a few of his curls around his face, his sharp cheekbones, down to his jaw and then jumping back to his eyes.
Astarion finally spoke again, and Jocasta's gaze hastily moved from his lips to his eyes and back in rapid succession she hoped he missed. “Well, I suppose it was penance for that fire bolt you took for me as well, so, thank you.”
She couldn't tell if the thanks was sarcastic or sincere. His tone was too hard to read. Once again, she was left with the question of if he held feelings for her, too, or wanted her to drop dead.
But either way, Jocasta smiled. She couldn't help it. It made her feel a little giddy that he noticed her attempt. She brushed the toes of her shoes into the dirt.
“Yeah, of course! I always try to help a friend. I mean, I'm really growing fond of the people here. And that includes you, too. I hate to see my friends get hurt.” Her smile was just so happy. Full of some type of naive or foolish glee, as if she really believed she could save everyone from harm, every time. Frankly, Astarion didn't know what to make of her, either.
She paused again for far too long, before she followed up.
“So, uh, did you like the soup?”
Her insides felt like ice as she saw it sitting beside him, untouched. She had been standing here the whole time and he hadn't moved toward it yet. Idiot. Idiot. Dumbass fucking idiot. Jocasta could drown in that lake right now and it would be a mercy.
“I haven't even picked it up yet, darling.”
“Right. Sorry. I'm, uh— yeah. That's right. Sorry. Scatterbrained. Sometimes my words come out faster than I can stop them.”
“I've gathered that, believe it or not.”
“Of course. Yeah. Right, I'm— I'm sorry.” Jocasta forced an awkward laugh, backing up to retreat to the fire. Her heel hit a small stone and she stumbled back a few steps, regaining her balance, her own soup sloshing in its bowl and spilling half across her nightclothes. Her ears and face felt like they were burning her alive, and all she could do was force out another awkward laugh before she turned and practically ran back to the campfire.
She sat down again beside Shadowheart and hung her head.
***
She stayed out by the fire until it died. Until Gale had retired with his book, Wyll had finished his heroic story, Shadowheart finished the wine, and she heard Karlach snoring from her tent. Lae'zel had gone to bed long before them. Jocasta's head stayed down, just staring at the embers as the fire died. She prodded the coals with a stick, watching them slowly put themselves out. Hugging her knees, she just replayed her own embarrassment over and over again until she heard footsteps beside her.
She startled back to the moment when she realized she was being approached, and a small tin bowl was placed in front of the fire, cleaned and dry, stacked with the rest of the cookware. Astarion stood above her now, looming in the moonlight, curls silhouetted by the cloudless night, eyes almost glowing. She saw the flash of his fangs in a smile when he stood there.
“The soup was good, darling.” He said without prompting, placing his hand on her shoulder for just a moment. And in an instant, he was walking off again, back into the shadows, as much a mystery as he was before.