#andan

Andan stared into the fire of the camp, content as the rest of their group milled about. They were so close to Baldur’s gate, merely a day away. Spirits and nerves were high. Wyll and Gale were cooking, Shadowheart and Astarion giving unhelpful advice with some gossiping on the side. Karlach and Lae’zel were sharpening their weapons. The tiefling was multitasking, getting some horn polish ready off  to the side for both her and Wyll.

The paladin smiled, things were content. Eventually, her eyes met Astarion’s, the vampire shooting her a wink.

Red… a sharp smile, soft eyes. Joyful in the light. Her burrows furrowed slightly, where have I heard that before? Her gaze turned back towards her book, looking but not reading. Her mind began to wander back to her youth, the thoughts finding a familiarity to what had once been spoken to her.

-

Andan stared at the paper, brow furrowed and lips pursed. What if..?

“Andan, dear child… I can hear your brain working from here. What are your thoughts?”

The half-elf glanced up at her mentor, Hilor. The older elf stared at her, an almost fatherly curiosity in his golden eyes.

“So… you know how you know how people will die?”

He raised a brow at her, flipping a page in his book, “What of it, dear one.”

“If you can tell how they die… can you tell when their life would begin? Like… love?”

“A Soulmate?”

Her ears perked up, whipping around towards him, “Yes! Can you?”

Hilor barked out a laugh, “What makes you think that, Andan?”

“Well… I don’t know. It was merely a thought.”

He let out a low chuckle, closing his book before he set it off to the side. His private writing room was lit dimly with candles, gold crowned bookshelves lining the far wall from floor to ceiling with hundreds of books. He stood from his plush seat near the fireplace, making his way over to his mentee. The old elf kneeled down with great effort in front of her, the young half-elf sitting in his desk chair.

Andan blinked at him, cocking her head to the side, “Hilor?”

“Hush, dear child.”

She clamped her mouth shut, waiting as patiently as she could. She always had to wait long when he told her to be quiet. Whether he was testing her patience or was truly thinking was still a mystery to her.

It felt like hours before he spoke again.

“I see… red. A sharp smile, soft eyes. Darkness, the light… joy. Two-… oh. How interesting.”

Hilor said nothing else, standing and returning to his book in his plush chair.

Andan sat there, blinking, “Is- is that it? Red? Sharp smile, soft eyes? Dark, light, joy? What was there ‘two’ of?”

He sat there, smiling softly at the young twenty-five year-old half-elf. There was joy in his eyes, yet also a great sadness.

“Hilooor! Please!” Andan jumped from the seat, sliding in front of him to grasp at his knees like a child would to a parent, “What was the rest!”

“Were you not penning a letter to request Selunite archery lessons, ni leshere?”

She pouted, glaring up at him, “Yes… but I’ll get the answer out of you, yet Iar adan.”

Hilor merely smiled, patting her hand gently before resuming his reading. 

-

Andan’s mind returned to the present, ears flicking to the sound of a deliberate step to her unblinded side. It was Astarion, a hand raised in a gesture of peace.

“Are you alright, love? Has the tadpole eaten the rest of your little brain away?”

She rolled her eyes, setting her book aside, “I ate two tadpoles, Astarion. How many did you eat again?”

He glared at her, a sharp grin coming to his face, “Careful, love… would hate to have the rest of our worm stash in your bedroll. Would truly be a waste of that lovely little brain of yours.”

She barked out a laugh, letting him settle in next to her. They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the rest of the camp bustle about before she began to speak.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Astarion?”

He paused, glancing over at her, “No, why do you ask? Do… you believe in them, Dani?”

“I see… red. A sharp smile, soft eyes. Darkness, the light… joy. Two-… oh. How interesting.”

A smile threatened to cross across her cracked lips, but she managed to hold it back. Instead, she let her shoulders shrug.

“No reason other than curiosity. It was something I liked to ask Hilor about when I was younger and I wanted your thoughts.”

He turned towards her fully now, “Oh? Did he tell you anything, or- Wh- Dani! Andan where are you- woman! Hold on!”

Before he had even finished his sentence, she stood. Her well-muscled legs leading her towards the fire.

“Andan!”

“I’m going to eat dinner before Karlach eats it all! I have some Githyanki blood in my tent if you’re interested!” She grinned back over at him, watching him puff up like a hissing cat.

“You absolutely terrible woman! You didn’t let me finish my question!”

Andan let her grin spread, watching his irritation spread. She could have let him finish, but it was so much fun to ruffle him up like this.

Once she grabbed her plate of food, she turned towards her vampire love. He was angrily sipping on his goblet of blood next to Shadowheart, nit-picking the half-elf on the black roots starting to show in the cleric’s white hair.

“Salen aestar!”

Astarion glanced at her, raising an annoyed brow at her.

“To answer your question, my dear. What Hilor told me is one of the reasons I like the color red so much.”

His own red eyes widened, blinking at her. His eyes had widened in surprise. They were… soft.

Soft, red eyes. A smile that was normally so sharp, was lax in surprise.

She took a few steps over, landing a kiss on his cheek before she went to join the two other front-line fighters. Astarion took a few seconds of stunned silence before he began to sputter again. Andan took her seat gracefully between Karlach and Lae’zel, listening to their conversation as her beloved vampire began to vent to white-haired cleric.

A grin graced her lips as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

Yes, Astarion. I do believe in soulmates.