#wildweave

It’s only Gale, who lets go immediately. “Breathe, just breathe, Tav,” he says, keeping a calm and cool head.

She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Callum is missing. My son is missing.” Saying it out loud makes it feel worse. Tav clutches onto the fabric of her shirt above her frantic heart. “I should’ve been paying more attention to him. Or holding his hand. He’s so small, Gale. So small. What if someone took him?”

The wizard swats away the suggestion. “I’m sure he merely wandered off after spotting a sparkly bauble or colorful trinket.”

“But what if—”

He cuts her off. “We’ll find him.”

“But—”

He cuts her off a second time, firmly grabbing onto both of her shoulders. Her mouth snaps shut and she stares wide-eyed at her friend. “We will find him, Tav. But I implore you to take a deep breath.” Tav nods profusely inhaling through the nose and exhaling slowly through the mouth. Already some tension leaves her. “There. Much better.”

She takes another breath and at least now she can think straight. “Thank you.”

He smiles at her reassuringly. “Of course. I doubt he got very far. Why don’t you search the immediate vicinity? I shall search further up the road, and Astarion, you can—” It’s only now that they’ve both noticed their other companion is nowhere to be found. “Astarion?”

Curse that blasted vampire.

…

Astarion Ancunin has two objectives whenever he comes to Baldur’s Gate. One: keep Tav happy. And two: keep Callum happy. As of right now, he is failing quite spectacularly at both. Callum vanished under his watch and his mother is in a state of panic. It’s been years since she’s worn that wrecked expression and he never wishes to see it again. The only way to fix that is to locate the boy and bring him to her as quickly as possible.

Easier said than done.

He wasn’t at any of the stalls near where they were, nor inside any of the shops. It comes as no shock that no one noticed a small child with blue hair passing them by. If Astarion didn’t have to worry about accidentally exposing himself to the sun or drawing too much attention, this would be so much easier. Wave a dagger here, idle threats there and somebody would’ve seen something useful.

He makes a sharp turn down an alleyway when he spots a woman crouching in front of several stacks of barrels. She doesn’t notice him yet, her focus on something, or someone, hidden from his view. “Hello, little one. Are you lost?”

“Y-yes,” a small voice warbles.

He can’t physically see him, but he recognizes that voice. It’s Callum. Callum is over there, to his immense relief. Astarion’s first instinct is to shove the stranger aside, pick up the boy, and run like the hells, but it’s never that easy. This is Baldur’s Gate, the City of Blood, who knows if this woman has good intentions or bad. Astarion hangs back, sliding back behind the corner from which he came, a dagger at the ready, just in case.

He watches as she scoots a little closer. His hold on the hilt tightens. “Can you tell me your name?” she asks.

“No.”

The woman, a drow upon closer inspection, laughs at the timid yet blunt answer. “Smart boy.” Astarion wholeheartedly agrees. “I’m Mira. I’ll help you find your way home, alright?”

“I miss my Mama.”

She stands up and holds out a hand. “I know. We’ll find her together, promise.”

There’s a long pause as Callum thinks of what to do. “O-okay.” A tiny hand comes out from behind the barrels, latching onto her fingers.

She smiles down at him, hoping to coax him out of his hiding spot. “Okay.”

Astarion has no choice but to step in before they can leave. Thankfully for him, the alley is steeped in shadows, so if things get out of hand, at the very least he can close the umbrella in favor of fighting. Astarion clears his throat and slowly walks their way. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. He’s coming with me.”

The drow jumps, startled by his sudden appearance. “Stay there,” she whispers. She lets go of his hand, guides him back behind the barrels, and turns to face Astarion. She eyes him up and down. “Can I help you, sir?”

He puts on a charming grin and holds up his hand to show he’s not holding a weapon (it’s up his sleeve). “Ah, but you already did. You found my friend for me. Thank you for your services, but they are no longer needed. Good day.” He motions for her to leave.

She takes a defiant step back, closer to Callum. “Are you his father?”

Astarion resists a grimace, because it’s a stupid question and he can’t say yes. “No,” he grinds out. “I’m a family friend.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she challenges.

They’re maybe five feet apart, staring each other down, silver glaring up at red. “You don’t,” he deadpans. He looks past her, toward those barrels. “Come out, little bird. It’s time to fly home.”

Out pops that head of blue hair, followed by puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “Asty?”

“The one and only.” His eyes flicker back and forth between the boy and the woman every few seconds. He doesn’t want either of them out of sight. “You had us all worried sick disappearing like that, especially your mother. She’s looking for you right now.”

At the mention of Tav, the little comes out of hiding entirely. The drow woman still stands guard, hand shifting towards a rapier sheathed at her hip. “Mama?” he chirps.

Astarion nods. “Yes. I’ll take you to her.”

A few things happen all at once. Callum tries running towards him, only to be prevented by her. Astarion reveals the dagger up his sleeve because it seems he’s going to have to do this the hard way. Next thing he knows, a strong gust of wind blows him back against a brick wall and then there is a sword being pressed to his throat. The mysterious woman knows magic. And he dropped the dagger when he hit the wall. Perfect. Can this get any worse?

Naturally, he has to make light of everything, if not for himself, but for Callum’s sake. “Let’s not do anything hilarious.”

She presses the blade ever closer, making the cool metal touch just below his Adam’s apple. “Shut it,” she hisses. “I’m not going to let you hurt him.”

She thinks he’s going to hurt Callum? The idea is so preposterous, he could laugh. He restrains himself from doing so because something tells him she won't share his sense of humor. “This is just one big misunderstanding, dear. Lower your weapon and I will gladly explain everything away.”

Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Do not take me for a fool.”

And yet she is a fool. “I would never dream of doing such a thing.”

“How about I just run a stake through your heart, vampire?” His smile drops as a crooked, snaggle-toothed smirk spreads across her face. “Better yet, I can toss you out in the sun over there.”

Well, shit. This is worse.

A gasp from the little boy turns both of their heads. He’s running away, running right past them, running as fast as his little legs can take him, with his arms extended out. “Mama!”

At the end of the alley stands Astarion’s beloved druid, looking regal under the light of the sun. And Gale’s there too, he supposes. “Callum!” She meets him halfway, deftly scoops him into her arms and squeezes him like her life depends on it. “I was so scared.” She cranes her neck to look him over. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

His voice waivers. “I saw a cat and I wanted to pet it, but-but it kept running away. Then I lost you.”

She closes her eyes and thinks of his warmth breath on her neck, his weight in her arms, his heart beating in his chest. “It’s okay.” He’s okay. He’s fine. “You’re not lost anymore. You found me.”

“I love you, Mama.”

Tav presses a kiss into his hair. “I love you, too.” She kisses him over and over again.

The tender moment is broken with an aggravated cough. “Ahem! Not to spoil this heartwarming reunion, but can someone please tell this madwoman to release me?”

The druid flushes with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she calls. She approaches the drow woman, though she still keeps a safe distance back. “Let him go. Please.”

She glares at her captee. “He’s a vampire!”

Gale tries to talk her down. “Ah, yes. We are well aware of this fact, Miss …” He trails off, gesturing for her to fill in the blank.

“Mira,” she says.

“Miss Mira.”

“Just Mira,” she corrects.

“Just Mira.” He slowly saunters over, placing a hand on Astarion’s shoulder. “He’s actually a very good friend of ours and we’d prefer it if you didn’t kill him.”

“He was going to drink from your son!”

The vampire scoffs. “No, I wasn’t!” He pauses. “And that’s not his son!” The thought of Gale and Tav, together, makes him physically ill.

“Hush,” they both snap.

Astarion begrudgingly obeys. There is still a fucking sword at his throat and apparently he’s the only one bothered by it.

This is going absolutely nowhere. Tav steps a little closer so she’s behind Gale but next to Astarion. “Miss—” The other woman opens her mouth, so Tav quickly corrects herself. “I mean, Mira. Mira. I appreciate you looking out for my son, I’ll never be able to properly thank you for that, but there’s no one I trust more with him than the man before you.” She grabs Astarion’s wrist. “Please, release him.”

Mira’s eyes start on Tav then Callum, flit over to Gale, and finally land on the vampire. They’re all staring at her, hope shining in their eyes and it’s too much for her to bear. “Fine,” she groans before sheathing the rapier and crossing her arms.

Astarion brushes off some imaginary dust from his shoulders. “Thank you. It was about time.”

“You’re welcome,” she sneers back.

Tav’s hand is touching his face, turning his head by the chin this way and that, checking for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

He shrugs, playing it of. “I’ll live.”

“Asty, I’ll make it all better.” Tav semi-reluctantly hands him over to Astarion, who readily accepts the boy. “I’ll give you a magic kiss like Mama gives me.” And he does, right on the cheek, and then Callum hugs him around the neck.

Astarion catches a glimpse of a beaming Tav over the boy’s shoulder and feels his heart melt with sentimentality. Gods below, he has gone soft over the years and these two are to blame. With a sigh, he pats the boy’s back. “Thank you, little bird. I think it’s working.”

So Callum’s fine. Astarion’s got him. Tav feels secure enough to turn her attention back to Mira. “Thank you for protecting my son. Please, let me give you something for your trouble.” She digs into her satchel and pulls out a small pouch heavy with gold coins. “Here. Take this.”

Mira stares at the pouch for a moment, but takes a step back. “It was no trouble at all. Keep your gold.”

The druid is a persistent one. “Then allow me to buy you a meal. Please. I do insist. Please.”

Mira is not immune to those big, doe eyes. She throws her hands up, resigning herself to her fate. “Sure. Why not?”

Tav’s face lights up. “Yes! Perfect. Thank you. I know this place not too far from here—”

“I’m sorry. You expect me to endure a meal sitting across from someone who just tried to kill me?”

Tav chuckles dryly. “I’ve done it.”

Astarion spins around. “What? When did you—” But then he stops mid sentence to cringe. “Oh … right …” She’s referring to the first time he fed on her. He was one gulp away from going too far. Tav passed out from the blood loss and he stayed up the rest of the night to make sure he hadn’t unintentionally killed her. The next morning she sucker punched him. It was very much warranted. “Have I told you how lovely you look in that color, darling?”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

Mira leans over and stage whispers to Gale. “Um, so what’s the story behind that?”

He arches an eyebrow at the query. “To what are you referring to?”

She looks back over at the trio. Tav is fussing over both of her boys, repeatedly asking if they’re okay, they’re unharmed, they’re fine. Mira tilts her head in their direction. “Them.”

The wizard follows her gaze then sighs. “One lunch isn’t a sufficient amount of time to explain that … mess.”

“Is that so?” She clasps her hands behind her back and bites her lip. “Sounds like a good excuse to meet up again.”

Gale’s face burns bright red. “O-oh.” He starts fiddling with his coat, the buttons, the cuffs, anything to distract him from openly gaping at the beautiful woman currently speaking to him. “I-I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

“It’s a date?”

He offers her a shy smile as a confirmation. “It’s a date.”

…