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In the springtime, birds of every size and color left their trees to strut their plumage in hopes of attracting a mate. There were even, Bernadine had heard, certain varieties of dragon that, when stricken by a particular mood, took to the skies with bits of their hoard tucked amongst their scales, twirling in glittering arcs and demonstrating their battle prowess before their rivals. While she hoped they wouldn’t encounter any randy dragons, Bernadine thought this was the perfect opportunity to take her friends birding, while feathered love was in the air.
Of course, on the ground, the story was not much different.
“It’s quite easy for me, you know,” Tav said, walking backwards and ducking under low-hanging moss. “Identifying these creatures. I’ve read all about local fauna. The lore of this place is not so deep, so I’ve already mastered it.”
Lae’zel crossed her arms and stepped carefully over the roots. “Is that so.”
There was another reason that Bernadine had invited her friends out, and it might be a bit selfish, she thought. This sort of conversation, this obvious flirtation, seemed so easy when others did it. She thought of her own attempts to boast or be coy--ugh, better to just forget that. There must be some secret to keeping herself from becoming tongue tied and forgetting her own name when she tried to speak to Ast… when she tried to speak to other people.
So, this was the plan. She would observe these two, find out how they did it, and then hypothetically use their confidence to talk to a beautiful, curly-haired elf without embarrassing herself. And she had a magnificent name for this strategy: GUTS. Githyanki Ultimate Technique for Seduction.
Step one: impress them with your survival skills.
“Since you already know everything, what is that?” Lae’zel asked. She curled her lip, baring her teeth expectantly, and pointed at a hedgehog that wandered across their path, unaware of the aliens leering over it.
“This is a peacock, of course. A small terrestrial mammal with a unique appearance. In the city of Baldur’s Gate, the spines of the little peacock are used as the primary unit of measurement. They have something of a religious significance to the locals,” Tav explained, impressively confident considering how wrong he was. With a flourish, he bent down over the creature, and it curled up and rolled away from his grasp. He stood and wiped off his hands. “Just demonstrating its evasive abilities, naturally.”
“Chk. Why did you even invite this k’chakhi?” Lae’zel rolled her shoulders and watched Bernadine attempt to coax the hedgehog out of the tall grass.
Maybe she shouldn’t have roped them into this--she didn’t mean to embarrass Tav. But, if he was embarrassed, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked pleased with himself. How were they doing this? If she said something stupid to Astarion, she would never be able to face him again. Much less act cute about it.
Bernadine sighed. “I thought having you both here could be fun. This is a hedgehog, and they definitely aren’t used for measurement. At least, not in Baldur’s Gate. It’s alright that you haven’t seen one before, since you must not have been able to play outside much growing up.”
Lae’zel placed her hand on Tav’s back and lowered it until Bernadine had to look away. “I played plenty. The dragons dealt with most pests, but we took slingshots to the Eye of the Sky to rile the beholders, when we wanted an excursion,” she explained.
“Ten points each for the little eyes. A hundred for the big one,” Tav recalled. He snuggled against Lae’zel’s touch, and then stumbled backwards as the ground shook beneath their feet.
“Whatever that was,” Bernadine gasped, distracted for a moment from her romantic troubles, “it sounded big. Both of you stay close to me!”
Another rumble shook the forest and Bernadine called her blackthorn club up to her hand, animating it with a quick shillelagh. What could be stomping around like that? A bear? A moose? It had occurred to her that there were few birds and small animals around, but Bernadine had attributed that to their own raised voices. Perhaps something else had scared them off.
While they got into position, the creature toppled through the brush, tearing down small trees in its path as it tried to free itself from the branches. It was like a huge lobster, with tentacles hanging from its face like spilled guts. It raised an armored claw and brought it down hard against Bernadine’s club.
Step two: inspire them with your strength in battle.
“It’s a chuul!” Bernadine shouted. “They’re attracted to magic! Try not to let it grab you!”
Lae’zel drew her sword and pushed the wizard roughly behind her. “It must have smelled Tav’s massive ego.”
“Or perhaps the smell of Lae’zel’s shoes reminded it of home,” Tav replied. “Bernadine, ready to send this kaincha crustacean back to the deep?”
She was more than ready. This was something she understood. As the creature attempted to wrestle the club from her hands and lashed out with its poisoned tentacles, she reached down deep into the energy of the earth, calling up entangling roots to snare the chuul’s thick legs. It wiggled, angry, and only managed to tangle itself further.
Lae’zel stepped forward, thrusting her blade between the chuul’s armored plates with a controlled flourish. Silvery ichor poured from the gap. As she looked back, making sure Tav was watching, the chuul scooped her up in its claw and whipped her skin with its tentacles, paralyzing her.
Step three: try not to die.
“Igni--” Tav began to trace an arc from his temple, and Bernadine all but pounced on him.
“No fire! We’re surrounded by trees--you’ll burn the whole valley down!” she said.
“Uhm, as you say.” He flipped through a soggy, dogeared spellbook as the book attempted to bite his fingers, trying to find a spell that didn’t involve fire. “Here’s one. A party trick, courtesy of the Astral…”
As he snapped his fingers, Lae’zel was teleported from the creature’s grasp to land safely in the grass. Bernadine rushed over to help her break free of the paralyzing poison, hoping that Tav could keep the lobster occupied.
“You couldn’t do something that hurt the creature, instead?!” Lae’zel groaned.
With a quick healing spell, Bernadine got Lae’zel on her feet, and Tav rolled under the chuul’s snapping claws. He cast another spell, hardened malice driving a painful spike through the creature’s mind. As it reeled from the pain, Bernadine called on the forest again, feeling its power and comforting presence flow through her and into a wave of thunder that knocked the creature clear from the roots and onto its back. It twitched, knocked out by the force, and Lae’zel strode over to drive her blade into its chest.
Bernadine took a deep breath and watched for a moment to make sure that it was really dead. This felt… incredible! If only everything was as easy, gave her such a warm rush, as calling upon her druidic magic. She could almost feel the forest’s energy congratulating her on the victory. Certainly, the birds and deer could come out of hiding, with the monster defeated. Maybe, she thought, she might even be in the mood for a lobster boil, when they returned to camp.
“My, my, my, Bernadine, I hope you studied Lae’zel’s maneuver. You might have learned something. Like don’t get grappled by something with tentacles,” Tav teased.
“Of course she learned something.” Lae’zel twisted his arm, forcing him down on his knees.
“Ow! Excuse me!”
She yanked on his beard and released him. “Don’t start fights you can’t finish.”
The old anxiety started to creep back into her mind. Bernadine wasn’t sure she had learned anything, at all. GUTS was a flop. It was like Lae’zel and Tav barely cared if they misspoke or made fools of themselves. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, they were doing it on purpose. As they dragged the chuul’s meat-filled claws back to camp, she wondered if someone could ever love her enough to be endeared by her mistakes. She thought of Astarion’s sweet smile--the real one, not the false one. There must be some way she could make him smile for her again.
“Could I, ehm, intrude for a moment?”
Bernadine was surprised to see Tav leaning over her at a respectful distance. She had been so engrossed in her book, she hadn’t even heard him approach. Sliding over to make room and adjusting her hair and glasses, she patted the spot on the cushion next to her, and he arranged his long legs to fit down into her makeshift camp nest.
“The seafood boil was excellent. My compliments. But, ehm,” Tav cleared his throat. “Your behavior today was a little odd, if that isn’t rude to say. I thought I would come check on you. Are you alright?”
She thought for a moment and felt her cheeks flushing red. Odd? Honestly, today had been… fun. She hadn’t guarded her words and actions like she normally would have. She hadn’t overthought things and analyzed her friends’ every facial expression, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But, even so, it had felt easy. Comfortable. She’d just been herself. “I think so. Why? What do you mean by ‘odd’?” she asked. “Did I say something wrong?”
“I know why you brought us out today. Recall that the tadpoles connect our thoughts. Why are you suddenly so interested in procuring mates? You don’t seem like the type to sow your wild goats.”
She covered her mouth with her hand and tried not to laugh. “Goats?”
“I think it’s a local expression meaning to see out frequent, noncommittal intercourse,” he explained. Not quite. Though, the thought of herself chasing down a herd of curly-haired vampiric billygoats was amusing.
“You mean ‘sow your wild oats.’ And… not really, no. There’s just one that I want. Something’s going on with him. It’s like he keeps trying to say something but can’t figure out how. Did I do something? Is he pulling away?” Bernadine asked.
“You’re asking me?” Tav shifted uncomfortably. “I may not be the best authority on these things.”
“But people like you! I saw how you are with Lae’zel. How do you know what to say? How do you know what she’s going to say?”
Tav put his hands on his knees and took a measured breath. “I never know what Lae’zel is going to say. But I like that.” Pausing, as if savoring something, he sucked in his cheeks and laughed gently. “Even if she sometimes says things that she should not.. But, you have to understand--the way we grew up, the way we were taught to speak. Lae’zel isn’t unkind. She has a strong heart and a bright spirit. I wouldn’t change her.”
That was just the problem--Tav and Lae’zel understood each other so easily. The others could bond over past adventures and shared sorrows, but what did Bernadine have to offer any of them? Why would they care what she had to say at all? She stood up and rolled her shoulders, looking up into the dark trees. “Of course you think so. You get each other. That’s what I’m doing wrong, isn’t it? I’m not a child soldier or a vampire spawn, I don’t have these problems, but I still can’t figure out how to say what I want like a normal person. Isn’t that sad?”
She expected Tav to get up and leave, but he didn’t. “Hm. I don't think so. It’s kind of beautiful, in a way. We are all very different, all across all these tales, but we want the same things, don’t we? Someone to curl up next to. Someone who tries to see us for who we are and not what we’ve done or been. Do you think that Astarion sees you for who you are?”
Bernadine sucked in a breath--that is what she wanted. She wanted Astarion to see her real self, no hiding or making herself into something she wasn’t. She wanted him to choose her, not in spite of her flaws, but because of them. “How would I know?” she asked.
Smug, Tav stretched himself across her pillows and bedroll, making himself at home. She certainly wouldn’t be sleeping in her own bed tonight, at least not without a prybar.
“We have a saying,” he drawled, “That the day only ends when you close your eyes. So, don’t ask me. What happens next is up to you.”