#wyll's whole thing is he's very rational and understanding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blackjackkent · 3 months

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All right, back into Hector's playthrough... left off having just gotten Minsc and Boo! I'm so excited. :D

Next priority is to save Florrick, bc I gather that's on a time limit before she gets hanged, and then go after Wyll's dad.

Lots of exciting stuff to do. :D Quick stop at camp first though to make sure that Minsc is getting settled in smoothly.

"Jaheira... Boo is trying his best to explain, but I still do not understand your anger!"

"Do not hide behind your hamster, ranger! You do not understand because you do not *listen*!"

OK, so maybe not completely smoothly. XD

This reads to me as Jaheira having a bit of adrenaline letdown; she's been worried about Minsc since before she even got to the Shadowlands and now she doesn't have to be anymore, and there have been a lot of other backed-up emotions waiting their turn, such as anger for having put himself/her in that position in the first place.

"We were the first to discover the cult. And if you had only waited, we might have marshaled our numbers and--"

"Good does not wait for evil to button up its britches! When it offers buttocks for the smacking, Minsc and Boo greet cheek with hand!"

Good old Minsc. XD

Hector and Co. are just watching this play out and looking sort of bewildered. Hector doesn't say anything yet though. In arguments among the companions he's traveled with longer, he has been willing to step in and take a hand, but I think he sees Jaheira and Minsc's friendship as something he stands a little outside of, and is even rather intimidated by. He's grown very close to the people he travels with, but the idea of a decades long friendship of such depth and shared challenge is outside his experience.

Say nothing.

"This mess falls on *our* heads, Minsc. The city under siege, its people poisoned by the cult - it all might have been avoided if you had just put your feelings aside and *listened*."

Hector tips his head thoughtfully to one side as he listens, and he feels a flash of sympathy for Jaheira. She is angry, yes - but at herself as much as Minsc. There is guilt under the words. She sees the moment of Minsc's capture as a turning point in the whole conflict.

And yet... had things played out as she describes, there is no guarantee things would have gone any better.

[INSIGHT] "Or the trail would have ended there, instead of leading you to Ketheric," he points out quietly. "The Prism. Me."

Jaheira glances sideways at him and scoffs. "I have seen too much to believe destiny has taken our side," she says bitterly. "Blind luck, perhaps. The point remains."

"You meant well, Minsc," she says - more calmly but no less pointedly. "But you exposed the city to harm. You helped the cult spread. And worse, perhaps, than any of this..." She swallows sharply, and her voice cracks almost imperceptibly. "You forced me to leave you behind!"

The emotional subtlety seems a little lost on Minsc, whose eyebrows and shoulders lift in an attitude of abject puzzlement. "But... this is where Minsc falls short of the understanding, Jaheira!" he says earnestly. "What else is a berserker for, if not to charge into danger ahead of his Wychlaran?"

...Oh. :(

Narrator: [HISTORY] The Wychlaran - wise women of Rashemen, each bonded to a berserker bodyguard for life. There is no higher title, nor deeper bond, in all of Rashemaar custom.

OK this is actually kind of sad. :(

In this particular worldstate, Minsc has already had not one but two witches. In BG1, he and Dynaheir were traveling together when Caden initially recruited them, and Minsc was devastated when she was killed at the beginning of BG2. And then, further on through BG2, Minsc eventually asked Aerie if she would be his new Wychlaran, which she accepted, because she is a tremendous sweetheart.

The big question to rationalize out here - given Aerie's kindness, Minsc's loyalty, and the fact that Minsc was one of Caden's best friends - is how Minsc stopped considering Aerie his witch, because Aerie and Caden are both super alive and happy and safe in Faenya-Dail, half a world away.

The only explanation I can conjure up is that we know Minsc definitely continued adventuring after BG2, and despite the narrator's point that a Wychlaran bond is supposed to be for life, I picture Aerie basically releasing him from the pact because she was no longer traveling/in danger particularly and didn't want to hold him back from his adventures by feeling like he had to be around for her. (And, to be honest, probably freeing herself a little as well from feeling like she had to be responsible for him in turn while she was trying to settle down with Caden, raise Quayle, and not think about that sort of nonsense so much anymore.)

Knowing Minsc, this would be a troubling development, because his role as bodyguard to a witch is critical to his identity. So it is not surprising to me that he would latch onto Jaheira as a replacement - she is one of his only remaining close friends, and she is an older, wiser woman with powerful magic.

That said, it's also not surprising to me that she doesn't respond positively to this discovery - she has seen plenty of his relationship with both Dynaheir and Aerie and doesn't want that level of bond with him (especially not if it is going to trigger him to dive headlong into a nest of mindflayers to "protect" her).

"Wychlaran...? Minsc, I am not your witch! You are not my bodyguard! This is not some high lodge of your homeland!"

"Boo agrees you are a queer kind of witch," Minsc says gravely. He still seems more puzzled than castigated by her irritation. In his mind, which operates in simple, isolated truths untouchable by nuance, his loyalty to her is simply not a matter to be questioned. "But this city is a queer place. And Minsc, you may have noticed, is sometimes strange himself."

Minsc pauses, considers in silence for a moment. "The titles matter not," he finally agrees after a little while. "Only this - when Minsc does as Minsc does and charges in to make a mess, Jaheira does as Jaheira does and finds a way to save us all anyway!"

Hector can't help a slight grin in spite of himself. He doesn't blame Jaheira for her irritation, and he shares her worries for the battle that lies ahead. But Minsc's greatest crime here seems to be loyalty heedless of consequence, and there are far worse failings to have.

"Aw, that's actually kind of sweet," he says; his lips twitch as Jaheira shoots him an exasperated glare.

"Ugh," she mumbles. "I fight alongside fools."

Minsc grins broadly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "You hear that, Boo? We fight alongside a Wychlaran again!"

"I am your *friend*, ranger. I am not your witch!" Jaheira snaps. "There will be no ointments, or healing balms!"

Minsc's face twists with perplexed regret. "Not even for Boo?"

Hee. This is absolutely meant as a throwback to this banter with Aerie in BG2, and I love it.

I was definitely wondering previously if Minsc was considering Jaheira his new witch, so that confirms it. Poor guy. :( He just wants someone to be loyal to - as we all do, I suppose.

Jaheira is clearly not comfortable with it, though. She is, as we know, a person who keeps her own cards very close to the chest emotionally; a bond that deep and permanent is not something she would give easily, and certainly not without some Serious Discussion in advance. (To be honest this reads more like her being bothered by him just assuming it and using it as his rationale for acting irresponsibly; I could see a scenario where, had Minsc asked her the way he asked Aerie, she might have been more amenable.)

Maybe Shadowheart would be interested in a berserker bodyguard, Minsc. You should ask.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #miiiiiinsc <3 #caden of candlekeep #some throwback thoughts here

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timeforelfnonsense · 3 years

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Just a Taste (Updated)

Dafni x Astarion

Rating: M

Ao3

I’ve been reworking some of the first fics I wrote for these two now that I have a better idea of their relationship. I’ve updated them on Ao3 but there was some interest in me reposting them here as well!

Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series

Astarion passed along the far edge of the camp. A groan escaped his chest as he slumped down against the base of a tree. His whole body ached right to the bone. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the throbbing pain behind his eyes to disappear. He knew he needed to feed as soon as possible. He had waited far too long to make up for his little indiscretion with the boar earlier. The whispers of vampire among his traveling companions had, at last, died down. Unfortunately for him, his caution had left him weak and vulnerable. He clutched his head in his hands and took in a deep breath. His body tensed in an instant. The soft forest breeze carried the irresistible scent of prey. His mouth watered and the familiar, white-hot sting of thirst clawed at his throat.

He could see them all tucked into their bedrolls, spread across the little clearing. Sleeping. Helpless. His gut twisted with guilt at the thought but he was desperate and so very tired. Hunting would require far more energy than he had left and the food that slept peacefully around him was far more likely to quench the caustic burn he felt inside.

He would have to be mindful in the selection of his quarry. Lae’zel was the first to be struck from the list. She had a bitter, bordering on metallic scent that he found less than appetizing. And more importantly, he was certain she would slay him without a second thought should things go awry. Shadowhart was out next. Though her bouquet was much more appealing, she had a suspicious nature and seemed likely to be a light sleeper. Wyll had always seemed an alluring prospect - Strong, fast, and righteous. Despite the appeal, he would also be a dangerous choice, being a monster hunter by trade. Gale would due, he supposed, but as the wizard tossed in his sleep the delicate shimmer of a magical barrier caught his eye. That left him with one, final option.

Dafni slept in a heap of pelts beneath the cover of an old oak tree a few paces away from the others. Wildflowers bloomed in the soil around her as if the earth was reacting to her very presence. His gluttonous gaze lingered on the pretty cleric. He watched her chest rise and fall slow and even. He’d never known her to indulge in sleep, preferring to take her rest by way of trance. She must have been truly exhausted. With a silent step forward, Astarion took in another deep breath. She was floral, like lilac and primrose with just a touch of citrus. His pupils dilated as every fiber of his being shouted at him - Desperate for just a taste. It was a risk to be sure, feeding on a woman of divine persuasion, but of the options available to him she seemed the most delectable and least deadly.

“How cliche,” He thought, “a creature of the night- Driven by sanguine desire to drink from the lovely maiden asleep in her bed of flowers.” He dipped to his knees and with a delicate hand brushed her hair from her neck. He steeled himself, preparing to strike. Leaning in close just as her eyes shot open. “...Shit”

It was the cool tickle of breath on the back of her neck and the feeling of a light hand on her waist that pulled her away from her dreams. When she first saw him standing over her, ruby-red eyes wide, white hair tousled and untamed, she had assumed something must have happened during his watch. However, the guilt and shame that twisted across his handsome face quickly did away with such assumptions.

“What are you doing!” She hissed.

“No, no- It’s not what it looks like I swear!” His words were rushed as if they could not leave his mouth fast enough.

Dafi sat up in her bedroll, her eyes fixed on Astarion’s pleading expression, his hands outstretched in surrender. He reminded her of a wild animal backed into a corner facing down what was to be their demise. His bravado was all but gone and in the place of the cocky rouge she had come to know was a frightened young man. His eyes fixed themselves on the holy symbol that hung from a silver chain around her neck. At that moment the pieces fell together: the boar, his unique appearance, his eagerness to keep watch at night. There, in the dim glow of the fire, she saw him for what he was...

Vampire.

“Were you trying to kill me?”

“No! I wasn’t going to hurt you!” He promised, “I just needed - well…”

“You needed blood.” Dafni tried to keep her tone firm and fearless but her words shook none the less.

“It’s not what you think!” He pleaded, “I’m not some monster. I feed on animals! Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.”

The last word was dripping in melancholy. His head hung low and his shoulders sagged. He had proven himself to be proud, even bordering on snobbish - never asking for help and turning his nose up when it was offered. His suffering must be great if he had been willing to admit his weakness and need.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered. Against her better judgment, she reached out to him, placing a hand on his pale cheek.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs. I thought I could keep it to myself but tonight I felt so awful…” Astarion slumped into his hands unable to meet her eyes, “And… I wanted you to trust me. No. I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

His logic was far more rational than her own. She was a cleric, sworn to the preservation of life. She should have set him alight with divine magic the moment she realized what he was. But, when she looked at Astarion it wasn’t a monster that looked back at her. She saw her friend. The man who called her Daffodil with testing endearment. Who always watched her back in a fight. Who’d come ever so close to kissing her not that long ago. Vampire, he might be but Astarion was no monster. Her heart ached to think of the fate he had been doomed to. He was an elf, never to return to Avandor. Was it not her very reason for existing to care for all of Corellon’s children? Why should Astarion, whom she had come to care for, be any different than the rest of their kin?

“I do.” She smiled, her thumb stroking his cheek, “I Trust you, Astarion. If you say it wasn’t your intention to harm me then that is the truth.”

How long has it been since he had felt a hand so gentle with such kind intention? She held his face so tenderly he thought he might melt. He had spurned her kindness on countless occasions. Thinking it had been a sign of weakness. Now, on the receiving end of her light and he felt a fool for having ever encouraged her to tamp down on her compassion. He leaned into her hand, savoring the warmth of her touch.

“Thank you.” He purred against her ear, “Do you think you could trust me just a little further? I only need a taste. I swear.”

He could hear the steady thump of her heart pick up. The sight of blood pumping through her veins was near irresistible. Her cheeks went flush and the intoxicating smell of her blood threatened to send him into a frenzy. It was no small effort to keep his vampiric instincts in check. He couldn’t remember wanting the blood of any creature half as badly as he found himself wanting her. But, no matter how badly he craved her he refused to betray the trust she’d given him- To prove himself the beast he swore not to be.

“Fine” She spoke in a little voice, “But not a drop more than you need.”

“Of course.” He promised, “Not one drop more.” Delicately, he guided her back so her head came to rest in his lap. He brought one hand to rest on the swell of her full hip and while the other cradled the base of her skull. His fingertips traced the hollow of her neck with almost loving reverence. “I will try to be as gentle as I can manage. It might hurt a bit- a sharp, cold feeling but the pain should fade fairly quickly if memory serves.”

She nodded her understanding, glancing up doe-eyed through her thick lashes. With that, he leaned in pressing a kiss over her pulse before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh. If her scent had been captivating her taste could only be described as transcendent, sweet, and perfect. Yet it was more than the flavor that had him completely delirious. It was the irresistible happiness that began to bloom in his chest as his heart fell in rhythm with her’s. She was a lush and colorful field, the feeling of the sun on his cheeks for the first time in 200 years - Spring incarnate and he was ravenous for more.

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Cazador’s words rang loudly in his ears as the red ambrosian liquid gushed into his mouth. All those years luring food for his old master and he’d been forbidden anything but putrid rats. He’d assumed it was meant to demoralize his spawn. To remind them where they stood in the pecking order. Now he saw the truth of it. With every swallow, he felt better than he could ever recall feeling.

His grasp grew tighter on her hip drawing her into himself no longer satisfied with gentleness and charm. What had happened to the restraint he’d shown just the other day when he’d nearly stopped himself from kissing at the river? Hunger began to blend with desire. He wanted her, in both blood and body. A shaky gasp slipped from her lovely lips. She twisted in his lap, lancing her hand through his hair, tugging him closer. An invitation to drink deeper and indulge the amorous feelings her resplendent curves and needy sounds were insisting.

“Astarion, I’m starting to feel faint.” Her voice was shaky but it was enough.

“Of course.” He gasped. He removed himself with haste, realizing his hold on her body. Relief washed over her and Dafni allowed herself to crumple against him. Above her, Astarion was still struggling to catch his breath. “I was just swept up in the moment. But it worked. I feel good. Strong. Happy!”

He nuzzled at her neck, his nose running along the soft edge of her jaw. A small squeak passed her lips at the feeling of his tongue running over the aching wound. Prompting a satisfied purr from Astarion. He was warmer to the touch now and a faint rosy hue colored his cheeks. His arm once again wrapped across her middle, pulling her into him as if he’d done it hundreds of times before. Astarion was hardly the picture tender regard but his arms were strong and his slow heartbeat thrummed in time with her own.

“I’m glad” She yawned, “You deserve to feel good.”

He stroked absentmindedly through her hair as she began to nod off. Her sweet words overwhelmed him. Gods he wanted to kiss every inch of the strange, wonderful woman curled up in his lap, to taste him in other ways. He hadn’t expected the act of feeding to be so… intimate. He couldn’t be sure if it was always this way or if the elation he felt was a side effect of her being an eladrin. Either way, the temptation to hold her all night was undeniably present. A disheartening pang of thirst still lingered in his throat however and she was far too weak for him to take anymore. His other desires would simply have to wait.

“I hate to disturb you, darling, but you’ll have to excuse me.”

“You are not excused.” Dafni huffed, snuggling closer in protest.

He tried to suppress the laugh but it was no use. She stuck out her lower lip in his favorite pout as he untangled himself from her. She reached up for him, wrapping her hand tightly around his wrist as he turned to leave.

“Come now.” He teased, “You’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” He bent down placing a kiss on her forehead, “This is a gift you know. I won’t forget. Now, sleep, Daffodil. I’ll be back in the morning.”

#bg3 astarion #astarion #elf writes #sunshine & starlight #bg3 oc #dafni of gwynneth #repost #rewrite #eladrin elf #d&d oc

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