“It's disappointing to see how much you slip up without me there to hold you accountable, but since I am so generous, come back to me on the twentieth of Eleasis with your findings, no sooner or later. I have business I would rather you not interrupt.” Cazador adjusts the rings on his fingers, splaying them out so he can admire them in the lamplight. “There’s still a few more hours until the Zau’viirs require your… presence again.” His cold eyes rake over Astarion’s body and it's a look he knows all too well. “Spend the rest of your time with Godey, he’s been very upset with how quiet the halls are.” Despair wells heavy and tight in his chest as Astarion gets to his feet, concealing the quivering in his legs, his voice level like this is any other day talking to a friend. “Yes, Master. Thank you for guiding me.” Turning around, he makes for the ballroom entrance. “Oh, and my son,” Cazador calls out and Astarion faces his master once more knowing whatever is to come will not be worth the shred of freedom he's experienced. Master wears a wickedly gleeful smile on his hateful face. “Do leave the doors open. I want to hear your lovely voice.”

A quick look around the room was enough to spot the drow courtesan. He had dark blue-gray skin and white hair carefully shaped. It was his unusual outfit that pulled my attention at first. A black harness with shoulder pads and a skirt with slits on the sides that went up to his hips under a belt. The harness seemed to be made of leather, shoulder pads were harder to tell. They were shiny like leather but unusually stiff, too. “Isn’t that him?” Elissa asked nudging me with her shoulder. “I don’t see any other drow around.” “So, go and talk to him, then… unless you’re having second thoughts, of course.” I could hear the smirk in her words. “I am not. I just –“ I shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t know what to say to him. How do you even open for something like that?” “Sounds to me like you’re too scared to go for it now.” Elissa giggled. I rolled my eyes. “I know what you’re doing, Lis.” “Ladies, may I be of service?”

There’s barely time to lock the bedroom door before Astarion’s hands are on you, one on the back of your neck to pull you into a heated kiss and the other wrapping around your waist to pluck at the lacing at the back of your dress. “Gods, how I’d love to take you right here against this door, absolutely ruin you,” he murmurs against your lips as you feel the ties at your back come loose. “Do you feel ready for that?” You ask breathily. The dress begins to slip down your shoulders. “No,” he admits, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t worship at your altar, hmm?” He’s pulled the lacing loose enough for the dress to fall to the floor, pooling at your feet and leaving you in just your underclothes. “You don’t strike me as the ‘praying to the gods’ type,” you tease. “Oh, I’ve long since tried them all. None of them answered. But you,” he growls, head dipping down to mouth at your neck, “you answered.”

By the time you fully register what’s going on, the flap of your tent is already open, and you and Astarion are left scrambling to cover yourselves with whatever blankets or discarded clothing you can get your hands on. Shadowheart looks entirely unphased, as if perhaps she knew there was a possibility she would open the tent flap to this. You suppose she probably did, considering that she’s long since put together what’s going on between you and Astarion. “I’ve come to tell you two the tea is ready, and that Gale is nearly done cooking. It’s a shame the tea is already brewed, I would have told Halsin to add yarrow,” she sighs, eyeing your bruised neck and generally disheveled state. She glances to Astarion and raises her eyebrows a little, eyes flickering down to what has turned out to be a very obvious bite mark. “Do you need healing?” “Oh, not at all,” he drawls, clearly playing it up in order to cover his embarrassment. He’s putting quite an effort into throwing on the mask. “I think you’ll find I’m faring quite well.” “Perhaps Wyn should bite you harder next time, then,” she teases, causing Astarion to sputter wordlessly. She smirks and looks back to you. “Do come see me if you need healing after the tea, alright? I think Halsin will still be able to add powdered yarrow even if it's already brewed, but I’m available if that’s not enough.” With that, she exits the tent, having delivered her message. Astarion seems more embarrassed than you, what with Shadowheart having known exactly how to fluster him past the point of being able to keep the mask on. She’s never been easily fooled by it, or perhaps she’s just immune to that kind of charm. Either way, you’re finding it very funny to see him so easily disarmed, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing. Astarion lets out a very irritated-sounding little huff, but you can see a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m just going to take a bath if you want to relax. Don’t come get me until I’ve completely shriveled up,” Juniper told Cal.

Theus chirped in from his place on the settee. He had his body stretched along its length and an arm thrown over his eyes. “Good luck. Dad’s doing his ‘weekly deep conditioning’ a.k.a. piss outside or face his wrath.”

The dhampir cursed to herself. Why build this huge house to only place one washroom in it? She thought.

“Um, you can use one of our baths, if you’d like. We each have one, and two extra.” Cal glanced down as if embarrassed. He wasn’t sure if his words qualified as bragging but there was a tinge of guilt brewing within.

“Really?” Juniper’s emerald eyes lit up and the young man nodded. She cupped her hands around her mouth to call to her father. “You hear that, dad? Five bathrooms! Next time, take note when you decide to have a family with enough hair to supply a wig shop!”

The boy lets out a whine as his finger slips. His pout makes me want to ruffle the curls between his horns. Instead, I pat his back and motion for him to give me some space on the stool. I slow down the metronome's tempo before placing my hands on the keyboard and playing the simple melody. “Like this,” I say to him. “Use your index and middle fingers as much as you can. They are the strongest and the easiest ones to control. Come on, try again. A little more slowly.” He looks at the black and white keys with a concentrated frown, as if they were enemies he's about to attack. Letting the metronome sound for a couple of bars, he finally hits the keys. And this time, he finally succeeds. His little face lights up as he looks up at me. I smile back. “Yes! You did it! I knew you could.” My fist bumps his, eliciting a giggle. Unfortunately, according to the clock on my desk, our time is up. “We're done for today.” With bouncy steps, he grabs his schoolbag from the corner of the room and hands me a bill. I thank him with a nod and walk him to the front door of my apartment. “You did great today,” I compliment him. “Keep practicing and next week we can start with a new song.” “Sure will! See you next week, Miss H.” “See you next week, Mirkon.”

“What? I do want to, Tav, but I need time…” And why should she be beholden to his problem? “Go on with Halsin, I would never hold your hunger against you.” “I knew you would understand! And do let me know when you're done being selfish, I'm ready for you anyday.” With a kiss to his cheek and a pat on the back, Tav practically skips off, eager to bed the bear in whatever pile of leaves he's probably sniffed up. Selfish? She isn't… wrong though.