Extremely self-indulgent post-act III romantic fluff plotted with @twenty7knives
Jaheira had been watching from the shadows — or rather, from the cracks and crevices of the Guildhall, her small rat form scurrying unnoticed through the corridors. It was a useful trick, one she'd perfected over decades, but tonight, she hadn't needed sharp ears or keen instincts to sense the weight pressing down on Astele Keene.
The woman was tired. Not the kind of exhaustion that came from a hard day's work, but the kind that settled into the bones, that gnawed at the mind until it frayed at the edges. She had been pushing herself, either through duty or through some unseen burden, and Jaheira knew, just by looking at her — knew in the pit of her stomach — that something was terribly wrong.
Jaheira hoped that working with Minsc wasn’t the reason for Astele’s exhaustion, but deep down, she knew it likely was. And if that was the case… well, that was on her. So she better compensate Astele somehow.
Once she was sure she was alone, she shifted back, rising silently from the floor. A moment later, her arms slipped around Astele’s waist from behind, drawing her close with the care of someone gathering a fragile thing into their grasp. She pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, lingering, letting the warmth of her breath trail over Astele’s skin before she murmured, "You are working yourself to the bone again, are you not?" As if she was entitled to lecture anyone on that matter, but eh.
Her voice was low, concerned, but not demanding, as her fingers traced slow, soothing circles against her stomach. "Sometimes, when I feel like this... when my mind won’t let me rest, I sit, I breathe, and I let the heat of a steaming bath ease the tension off my shoulders."
A pause. The invitation was not subtle. It wasn’t meant to be. "You should come with me," she added softly, lips brushing against her ear. "Let me take care of you tonight."