Closed to @divinestrike

[pale_elf]

[It had been few weeks of travel since they left the Grove behind and Astarion spent most of his time fighting and preparing for the Shadow Curse and all that it seemed to involve. The original goal was to travel through the underdark after dealing with the Myconids, the durgears and all that nice stuff. He even found himself deeply amused by the little tower exploration and how one of the robot guardians just... hugged one of his companions. Whoever build them had to be a true, lonely loser. A spectator here, a dwarf saved from mushrooms there, the area was secured with Nere dead and... it turned out the elevator was stuck. Days worth of work- WASTED! Katlach had been lucky in getting a new armor from the forge, but all Astarion got was a laughing amulet that refuses to get off him.

After some discussion, traveling on the surface seemed like the best possible option, even if the mountain opass was guarded by Lae'Zel's people and they seemed rather hostile and dangerous. A daring escape from a killing githyanki machine, an encounter with Elminster and many other problems later they were finally on the right road fortheir destination.

And Astarion's Anxiety was only growing the closer they got to Baldur's Gate. Not only now they traveled with a druid, someone who probably saw him as an insult to natural order, but as soon as they passed whatever awaited them in the Tower... he would be within reach of Cazador once more. Needless to say, his need to reaffirm himself as a valuable team member kept increasing the more they traveled.

It was with absolute delight that he recognized some familiar roads during one of his hunting trips, and for once he didn't even mildly protest when the good souls in his group stopped on their tracks to help some villagers in danger. No. He gathered some valuable things, threw in his bag some other things he looted during his journey and proceeded toward Candlekeep. He could remember Cazador talking about lovely crypts right under the old fort and an old entry that allowed to pass through some cracks between the walls. He left the camp at night with the excuse of food, set down his trap, and waited.

The sun was already setting on the horizon and the group's tents had already been set down when he finally approached his prey. How many days had it been since he last tried to flirt with the Cleric of Selune? Probably too many. He smirked, leaned against the tent like he had a real support and tilted his head to the side, trying to give himself a mischievous but also... almost affectionate expression.</small>]

Well, good evening, darling. It's been far too long from the last time we had a private chat, wouldn't you agree?

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[divinestrike]

[There was certainly something to be said about keeping one's self busy. She had never imagined that leaving the priesthood in the city to travel would result in the present moment. She also hadn't expected a nautiloid ship, finding herself plus one small tadpole companion, or the others that she met along the way, working towards what she believed was likely to be a common goal. It felt like every step they took to even marginally understand what next to do was only hindered by an extra step.

Go here.
Do this.
Investigate [x] location.

In the end, it only resulted in more questions and fewer answers. By the time they had finally begun to ease their way through the remnants of the treacherous mountain pass and all it contained, Nepione had to admit that she was feeling... frustrated. Largely with their situation as a whole. What could she, as the appointed leader, really even do? And if anyone else was suffering a lack of morale how was she supposed to help with that?

In fact, she spent so much time obsessing over that right there, the comforts of those she travelled with, that she realised she was most likely neglecting her own. Yet she felt she didn't have a choice.

On the night in which Astarion found her at her tent, her thoughts were every which way, save for whatever she was supposed to have expected of him. Far behind her were their earlier days where they could more easily exchange banter. She still checked in with everyone regularly, but so much of the time it was some strange habit she'd developed of mothering.

Smothering, some might have said, she was certain.

In the process of pulling brush through her hair, she raised an eyebrow as she took in the vampire spawn, his comfortable posture and the common content expression drawn across his features.

Private chat, hm?]

Is there something wrong?

[Because of course that was where her mind went to first. Why else would he have been coming to her?]