In this latest chapter "Barbarian on Barbarian Violence" we'll find ourselves following a pale elf as he looks out for his barbarian (Tav) friend who is currently drowning her sorrows in drink and the arms of those at Sharess' Caress. Unsurprisingly, the night takes a hilarious and bloody turn.
My favorite excerpt to write from this latest chapter as we see in a flashback our little barbarian learning how to spell a new word (It's Astarion's name and I am unwell):
Tav didn’t say anything once he finished but smiled genuinely, running a finger over her newly learned word. “That’s you.” She said, the flicker of satisfaction and warmth in her eyes made him realize he’d been perfectly still. She looked over at him. “A star.” Her smile seemed to always reach her eyes.
“It means little star.” He said quietly, unsure of why he was sharing this with her. He saw the way her eyes shone and she held a hand to her chest. “Your parents named you ‘little star?’”
He laughed lightly, taking another sip of drink. He didn’t really want to go down that road but he’d opened it up for some unknown reason. “So it would seem.”
“What were your parents like?”
He blinked, looking over the rim of his glass to the sand. The silence was palpable.
“Do you not remember?” She asked softly.
“Neither do I.” She said, causing him to look up. “Don’t remember much of anything. Typical barbarian huh? Too many hits to the head along the way, probably.”
It was not the first time she’d done this. Taken the attention off him with her own self-deprecating sense of humor. It was times like this that he was reminded she was not the simpleton he always assumed her to be. She was extremely emotionally intelligent. Even if she wasn’t always sure what she was doing or why she proceeded the way she did, she was always trying to save someone. Whether it be from death or an uncomfortable moment, she seemed to always deem it worthy of rescue.
Perhaps he need not try to sleep with her. He mused the thought as he finished his drink. Could he obtain an allyship that was not gained through use of his body? Perhaps it was from the haze of drink, or the way this moment seemed to be seen through his eyes in hues of comforting blues and the colors that only night time seemed to provide, but he entertained the thought of his friendship being worthy of protection.
But later as he lay in his tent and stared at the tarped ceiling, reality set in and he laughed to himself at his earlier naive thoughts. The drink must have been stronger than he thought.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/60696958/chapters/154997908
