Feral4Fiktion

“Is it true captains have someone in every port? You know a special someone. For l’amor. Or s-,”

“You don’t have to answer that!”

“Oh, I think the captain absolutely has to answer this question.” Sam chimed in. The grin was evident in his voice, making the captain flush. “This is going to be good.” Apparently he’d also been listening to the previous questions where they’d given the most noncommittal answers possible to what could only be described as the most bullshit romanticized versions of space travel ever asked. Captain mentally face-palmed, horrified at who else might be on comms right now, too.

Suddenly desperate to stop before anyone could dig further, a quick “It’s been nice to meet you all!” was sent out.

The tour guide for the Faraday Budget Tours hurried to cut off intercoms and send over some credits. Captain was just as glad to never see the Tour ship again. In fact, she had the idea to start keeping the grav drive powered on just enough that they could jump within two seconds if she ever saw them again. Hell, maybe a new reactor so she could designate enough to jump in a second flat.

“Who’s driving next?” It was close enough to shift change…and honestly whatever was left (even if it had been hours) would have been covered, no matter who had been in the pilots seat as long if they’d put up with that. Even Vasco. Actually Vasco might have handled all that the best. Maybe he should be put on comms screening in this sector of space…

When Barrett accepted his position in the pilots seat (his chuckling earning him a glare), the Captain checked in with everyone still awake before heading to the newly installed Captains quarters. It was still new, and still being unpacked and made into a simple home, but it had been obviously needed.

At first even Sam had thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to squeeze into the same bunk some nights, but the reality had quickly set in between Sam’s abundant body heat, one or both rolling off the side at the slightest direction changes, even the feeling of others being too close for the new couple to really have any kind of intimate moment.

Now Sam was sitting on the edge of the full-sized bed, leaning back on wide arms with an all-too-pleased look on his face.

“So, Captain,” he drawled. “Should we have a talk about the many, many ports we end up in? Or maybe a special someone?” He was leaning back on his arms, the picture of Freestar cockiness. It only got worse when he heard the exaggerated sigh and wry smirk that graced his captain’s face.

“You know perfectly well no one is waiting for me at any port, Coe.” Not much had happened, but somehow the words sounded tired. “The one’s who matter are usually on this ship with me. One’s got her face in any book she can get her hands on. The other is looking damn good on my bed, right now.”

Sometimes it was hard to really see any color change on his face. He’d done a good job of getting his beard high enough to hide anything, but now it was too easy. His cheeks had turned a ruddy red and he had to take a second to look all around the room before finally looking at the one before him again.

“Have I told you today just how lucky I am to have you? I know this just started, but damn does it feel like the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He’d said different versions of the same thing before. It seemed like after the confession in front of Solomon Coe, Sam had gotten the courage to say everything he seemed to have been piling up for who knows how long. He never seemed to lack anything encouraging, sweet, and almost sickeningly poetic anytime the Captain asked.

It still made his partner blush every time, and there was no hiding that from anyone, much to the rest of the crews delight. They had been trying to keep their budding relationship quiet, but it had become obvious lately that everyone knew.

The party was beginning to wind down, and you were coincidentally coming to the end of your own nightly rounds around the camp. It was something you’d been doing since day one of this adventure though tonight you had to admit was the first time you’d truly enjoyed doing so. Most everyone was in high spirits, Halsin and Nettie had happily healed some injuries that had been bothering your party, and the tadpoles were mercifully quiet since a few nights ago.

All in all you could enjoy yourself, and were on your way to grab another bottle of whatever was left/drinkable (the selection at the beginning of the night was questionable…what was left might be poison when mixed for all you knew), when you passed by the resident light haired elf’s tent and caught him scowling at the bottle in his hand.

“Enjoying the party?” Your voice jolts him out of his stupor. For a moment his scowl remains, but then he pulls what may be the most serious face you’ve seen on him.

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” A dramatic swig and enhanced scowl follow. “I hate it. This is awful.”

You and Astarion had not been seeing eye to eye since the day you found him on the beach. It wasn’t that he’d pulled a knife on you! If anything you had laughed about it when, an hour later, he’d mentioned that Gale’s introduction was “not the best”. He had rolled his ruby eyes and snorted something about at least being memorable. And he hadn’t minded delving into an ancient ruin and fighting burglars and zombies, or at least he’d been silent about it.

But the moment you’d walked into the Emerald Grove something had shifted. He was snarky in front of Zevlor. He sneered at Wyll and the kids, especially when you saved or didn’t mind their thieving. You’d heard him scoff when Nettie made you swear to take Wyvern poison. You soon realized he seemed to have a problem anytime you helped anyone in anyway that didn’t promise immediate reward.

You had thought leaving him at camp would help, but then when you found the monster hunter, and then discovered his vampiric traights…maybe you hadn’t reacted the best you could have, but you were already under a lot of pressure, and being chased by a vampire lord and offering your blood like a lamb to sacrifice had been just over the threshold of things you could handle calmly.

You’d still ended up letting him feed that night, but you’d had mixed feelings about it. Especially when you woke the next morning still tired, slightly woozy, and had to face a several conversations with goblins while trying to ignore that you could literally feel how pale you were.

Since then you’d mostly left him to his own devices, and the few conversations since were short and didn’t offer much to repairing what you assumed wasn’t a very good relationship.

“Really? Saving lives is awful?” You could almost feel his approval drop lower if the deepening scowl on his face was any indication.

“We killed some goblins to save some tieflings. The tally of lives didn’t change much. But what do I get for all my hard work? A pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” With his signature scoff he turns his head, surveying the camp as though they should all apologize for his present irriation.

Feeling a little tipsy from the previous bottles you make the bold decision to grab the bottle in his hand and take a much longer swig than he had.

“See what I mean? Awful!” With only a moment of hesitation he took the bottle back and drained it himself. Once he was satisfied he cocked an brow in your direction. “All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system. Maybe it was the genuine desire to bridge a gap you’d felt growing with the vampire you’d genuinely enjoyed fighting alongside. But you found yourself asking “And what’s your idea of a little fun?” and almost instantly dreading it.

“By the hells…Sex, my dear.” For a moment exasperation took over his face, before he seems to catch himself and plaster his usual smirk on his face. “A night of passion…”

It wasn’t only the wine getting your face to flush as you surveyed the remaining companions around the camp with a shocked “Ah!”, remembering a night not long ago when Astarion had played a particularly gruesome “game” of asking which of your companions you would feed off if you had the same appetite as him. You could barely remember your answer before scampering away, hoping he hadn’t heard and you hadn’t admitted to anything anyone else would hear of.

“So…who have you decided on?” You ask casually, hoping to get out of this conversation as quickly as you had the last, preferably without inviting any follow up. If you felt your heart skip a beat and land heavily in the bottom of your stomach, well, that was the wine.

Your companion was quiet for so long that you finally had no choice but to turn to face him with some dread and curiosity. You were met with furrowed brows, wide ruby eyes, and an even wider jaw.

For a dreadful moment you both stared at each other in silence, until some thought flashed over Astarion’s face faster than you could recognize what it was.

“I recall telling you before you have more charm than you think. You, apparently, did not believe me then.” He stepped closer till he was almost whispering, but you could hear every word like a hammer in your head. “So let me assure you now. You’ve only gotten stronger since that starry night, and your charms have increased alongside that strength. I’ve decided…on you.”

There was a something in those ruby eyes that twinkled like a small candle peeking through a dark night; a certainty settled in you that he meant those words now, even though you’d been unsure on the night he referred to.

His arm moved up slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him, to one side of your face, brushing a hair back where it had fallen. Your eyes were locked on his, finding this serious side to be much more enrapturing than his usual snarky self, even if that side of him left you flustered sometimes too.

“Let’s wait till things quieten down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.” For a moment you could feel his breath on your face, his fingers brushing your jaw so gently, yet you felt it like a warm tingle that sent a haze over every thought. It should have been sending off warning bells, but you only realized the danger when you caught a moan just before it could escape.

You caught a quick flash of some emotion you hadn’t seen on him before he became his usual smug self again. If you didn’t know better you’d almost call it guilt, but you were too hazed to give it anything but a passing thought.

“Till later, Darling. Don’t let anyone else carry you off. For tonight, you’re all mine,” were Astarion’s parting words as he turned and stepped into the shadows with barely another glance over his shoulder and a small wave.

Like you could think of anyone else when your legs were jelly, heart was pounding like you’d fought the goblins again, and there was a ringing in your ears like you’d once heard when you were being sucked dry of blood. The party noises started crowding for your attention again and you shook your head trying to recover before anyone could notice their “leader” standing in the middle of camp with a mind far away in the clouds.

“I’ve decided on you,” such simple words, no doubt they didn’t mean anything and he’d used them thousands of times. As he’d implied before he was no stranger to picking up conquests among Baldur’s Gates elites. That knowledge didn’t stop your stomach from flipping and cheeks from burning. It seemed impossible that after everything, even Astarion seeming to pull away from the group lately, that he would want you…but that’s what he said, and he hadn’t proved to be an outright liar in the time you’d known him.

You decided on one more lap around the camp, noticing with another jump in your heart that people were starting to disappear into their tents, or back to the teifling camp. You tried to focus on their cheerful good nights, even offering half-hearted help getting a few of the more tipsy safely back, but were guiltily happy when the help was declined with small jokes and friendly waves.

As the last of your guests disappeared into the trees you noticed yourself peering around the camp, checking that everyone there was turning in as well. If you happened to peek at one particular tent with a mirror outside, it was just to see if he had settled in for the night for safety reasons. There were still hunters after that one, after all. No other reason.

Yet you didn’t stop your feet from wandering further and further outside the camp, the opposite way the others had gone. And when you passed Shadowheart and she tipped her mug at you, then towards a particular patch of forest just far enough from camp to be peaceful, but close enough you were sure it was still safe, you knew already that she had no doubts what you needed that patch of trees for.