Like Real People Do, Chapter Nine

Gale Dekarios x Named! Tav x Astarion Ancunín

Chapter Synopsis: Unexpected foes lurk in the Underdark.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Four and a Half. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.

Read on ao3.

Word Count: 4.5k

Notes: I just didn't wanna shut up in this chapter apparently!

Learn more about my Tav, Seraphina.

Chapter Nine: Misfortune

Fire.

It was everywhere. All around.

The screams were blood-curdling and piercing.

There was as much blood as there was fire.

She remembered how quickly she had to make it across the field to get her downed companions, uttering healing spells as quickly as she sent a sphere of thunder at their enemies. As the only healer they had, the panic and anxiety of trying to keep everyone alive in this Hell ate her alive.

The fire kept raging, only growing larger and larger.

Destroying.

Consuming.

The heat ceased being an aura and she could feel it in her bones. She could smell her skin, hair, and armor melting. All she could hear was her own screams.

“Seraphina!”

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped for air, clutching at her own throat. In the darkness of her tent, she could make out Astarion kneeling over her. She sat up and looked all around.

“Are you…alright?” Astarion asked. His hands awkwardly hovered around her shoulders.

“I…y-yes,” she stammered.

“Darling, I could hear your heartbeat from my tent,” he said.

“I’m fine,” Seraphina said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Thank you for coming to check on me.”

“This isn’t the first time, you know,” Astarion commented. “That I’ve heard you across camp.”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say.

“I quite prefer it when I’m the cause of your heart racing like that,” Astarion joked. She could see the slightest wilt of his ears when she failed to smile.

“I’m sorry,” Seraphina whispered, wiping at her face that she now realized was wet with tears. “I need to go back to sleep. That’s all.”

Astarion didn’t budge, still staring at her. Her skin was already crawling from her dream, but she could feel it even more so under his scrutiny.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Of course, my sweet. I’ll be in my tent if you want a distraction,” Astarion said.

He left with a nod. She didn’t want him to leave, but she also didn’t know how or if she could ask him to just lay with her and hold her. Asking Astarion to do that would mean making it clear that she had started to have deeper feelings about Astarion than their current unspoken arrangement allowed for.

He’s not interested in that, she thought.

She didn’t go back to sleep either. Her exhaustion made her fumble through the necessary discussion the party had to have the following morning.

Seraphina knew that telling Lae’zel of her decision that the group would be traveling through the Underdark to get to Moonrise Towers wouldn’t go over well. She didn’t feel great about it either. She wasn’t one to break promises, but the incident with the patrol made it clear that going to the githyanki for a cure was far too risky.

They took another day to rest. When the morning came to pack up camp and search what remained of the goblin camp for the entrance to the Underdark, Lae’zel and her tent were gone. Seraphina and the warrior weren’t close on account of Lae’zel’s disgust at Seraphina’s ‘bleeding heart’ and Seraphina’s shock at Lae’zel’s brutal view of the world, but it still saddened the cleric to see that the warrior had actually chosen to leave their party. She had to resist the urge to snap at Shadowheart, who seemed all too pleased about the development.

After spending their morning killing the remaining goblins at the goblin camp, it was a relief to encounter the friendly myconid colony once the party arrived in the Underdark.

While Gale and Wyll traded with the hobgoblin, Karlach and Shadowheart bartered with a halfling woman. Seraphina skipped over to Astarion’s side.

“Hi there,” she grinned.

“Hello, my sweet,” he replied coolly. Seraphina frowned. His greeting lacked any levity and his lips had barely lifted at the corners.

“You seem like you’re in a bad mood. What can I do to help you have a fangtastic day?” she said, elbowing him lightly.

He rolled his eyes.

“You could try never making such a bad joke again,” he said.

“I hope this conversation isn’t draining you too much,” she smirked.

“Thank the gods you’re not a bard.”

Seraphina grunted as she lightly stomped her foot.

“You’re not being very fun today,” she pouted. “What’s going on?”

Astarion looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

“Darling, look around us,” Astarion gestured his hands around them. Seraphina did a spin, taking in the glowing mushrooms, the multicolored and intriguing myconids, and the ginormous space that was the Underdark.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said dreamily.

“I’d prefer to be basking in the sun rather than scrambling in the shadows again,” he sniffed. “And we’ve barely been here but for a few moments and you’ve already signed us up to risk our necks in the name of helping a few mushrooms.” Seraphina gnawed at her lip as she tried think of something that could cheer up the sullen vampire when Gale started walking in their direction.

He smiled and waved bashfully at Seraphina, one hand behind his back. Their friendship had been strained since their argument two days ago. Truthfully, they had barely said a word to each other.

“Enjoy whatever lecture the wizard is about to give you. I think my fingers have pockets to empty,” Astarion said, his gaze focusing in on the halfling trader.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t do that,” Seraphina replied.

“Maybe I’ll find something pretty for you,” Astarion winked and stalked away. Seraphina took a deep breath to prepare herself for talking to Gale.

“Seraphina, could I show you something?” Gale asked, stepping closer. She gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Go for it.”

“Close your eyes.”

She arched an eyebrow.

“Humor me,” he said, the hand of his that she could see slightly trembling.

She sighed and closed her eyes. She felt the familiar warmth of Gale’s hand taking hers and he slightly lifted it. A cold metallic object entered her hand.

“Open.”

Seraphina opened her eyes and looked down to see a gorgeous, pale blue circlet in her hands. A beautiful deep purple gem sat in the middle, surrounded by smaller, pointed pieces of metal in a sunburst pattern.

“Gale, this is beautiful,” she said breathlessly. As she turned it in her hands, she could feel the hum of lightning coursing through the headwear.

Gale exhaled with a chuckle, his face flushing red.

“It’s for you,” he grinned. “If you would like it that is. I know that you’re quite fond of lightning, even though the storm isn’t quite the crux of your magic anymore, and I believe this will pair greatly with your armor. The trader told me this was another invention of Yrre the Sparkstruck, so I immediately thought of you. Of course, I hope you don’t feel obligated to use it if it doesn’t suit your purposes or – ”

“Gale,” Seraphina laughed as she put on the circlet, letting it sit just under her horns. “I love it. Thank you.”

Gale reached up and carefully tucked away a few pieces of her hair. His fingers grazed across her brow and, as his eyes fell to hers, she felt her heart skip a beat. She could see the yearning and adoration in his eyes. She looked down at his slightly parted lips and imagined what it would be like if she could kiss him to get him to stop rambling when he was overthinking.

Gale suddenly snatched his hand away, clearing his throat as he took a half-step back.

“I think your gear will be quite ready to overflow with lightning soon enough,” he said.

“It’s working already. I think I feel a spark between us right now,” she whispered.

Gale’s entire body seemed to relax, though his smile seemed sad.

“Yes. You’re quite right. I feel that too,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry. About what I said the other night,” she blurted. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. It was thoughtless and cruel.”

Gale paused.

“It is nice to hear your apology. Though, you weren’t exactly wrong. I, more than anyone, should be wiser about telling someone to go against the will of their god,” he said. “I simply hope you understand what all comes with being a Chosen. I…I hope that it is your own ambition and not something you seek at the behest of others.”

Seraphina felt her mouth go dry. Of course, this what she wanted. She had already lived a life dedicated to Tymora. Being her Chosen would be the greatest honor she could ever receive. It would mean the world to her family, as a Hellwhisper no less, to serve her goddess in such a way. She had to do it.

“Immortality, power beyond my wildest dreams, and it’s all in service of the Smiling Lady. Why wouldn’t it be what I want?” she asked with a nervous laugh.

Gale gave her a pitiful look.

“The gods demand more than vows when calling followers to the altar, Seraphina. I speak from experience and not from a place of doubt in you or your abilities.”

His words sounded so familiar. He deserved to know why she snapped at him the other day.

“Gale, you should know that you’re not the first person to – ”

“Let’s scram,” Karlach suddenly appeared next to them. “I think Astarion just took that lady’s entire gold pouch.”

“Oh Gods,” Seraphina groaned.

She would tell Gale. Soon.

x x x

Seraphina stood off at the edge of camp as everyone finished eating dinner. She stood shoulder width apart, her arms lifted. With a deep exhale, she sliced through the air.

Nothing.

She took a step forward with her left leg, shifting her weight onto it. She lowered one arm, lifted the other, and took a deep breath. She exhaled as she quickly dragged her right foot to her left, stood up straight, and moved her arms in an upward diagonal arc.

Nothing.

She continued practicing different motions, occasionally getting a result, but not exactly the one she wanted. Spike growth, a stray fire bolt, an acid splash. Nothing new and not what she wanted to see.

She let out a frustrated huff as she stared at the smoldering, acid-covered patch of spikes in the area she was focusing on.

“So, are you actually trying to accomplish something or are you anticipating becoming a dancer if we survive all of this?”

“Yes, Astarion. I’m practicing magic.” She glanced over her shoulder to see that Astarion had seated himself on top of a sturdy mushroom behind her.

“I thought you sorcerers had no need for that.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Seraphina started. “To learn a new spell, Gale has to read a tome. If I want to learn a new spell, I have to practice until I find the exact movement and focus that casts the spell I want. Gale asks the Weave to do things for him, while I tell it what to do. It’s like when Lae’zel…” Seraphina’s voice faded, and she quickly shook her head. She wasn’t going to let Lae’zel’s absence weigh on her. “It’s like when Lae’zel used to practice a new fighting technique.”

“Hmm,” Astarion said thoughtfully. “So, all that innate magic transfers into…this?” he asked, gesturing at Seraphina as she continued making different, erratic movements with her arms and hands.

“If this is so stupid to you, you’re more than welcome to leave. I would focus better.”

“You look ridiculous and its quite entertaining, so this seems like fine way to spend my evening,” Astarion said with a sip from his goblet.

“Are you still upset because we’re helping the myconids?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? It’s a waste of our time, which, as I should remind you, is extremely precious on account of the cult that has put alien tadpoles in our heads.”

She turned to face him, putting her hands on her hips.

“We help people because we can, and we should. It’s horrifying how selfish you can be.”

“Looking after yourself keeps you alive.”

“Connecting with the beings and world around you keeps you alive.”

“I haven’t had much time for that the last two hundred years in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Astarion – ”

“No one helped me any time when Cazador decided that a fun way to spend the night was torturing me. The oh-so-brave Hellwhisper family has been going on their adventures, being heroes, spreading the good word of Lady Luck, for how many centuries now? Three?”

Seraphina stepped forward, reaching out for him, but Astarion stood and took a step back. He continued speaking.

“I probably saw quite a few of your ancestors when I had to find victims for Cazador. None of them ever took the time to investigate the gothic estate in the Lower City that people disappear into,”

“If I’d known what I know now years ago, I would’ve killed Cazador the first chance I had.”

“You naïve, silly thing. You actually think you stand a chance against Cazador.”

Seraphina nodded her head without pause.

“Of course,” she started.

At the same time as she said her next words, Astarion mockingly mouthed the same ones.

“Luck is on my side.”

“Of course. Hells, you’re almost as bad as Wyll,” he said with a scoff, rolling his eyes.

“Astarion, I can’t change the past. What I can do is help you kill Cazador and figure out your future.”

He paused. He stared at her with the same apprehension of a starving animal being offered food.

“Help me kill Cazador?”

“I mean, that’s why you’re reading that book, right? You want to kill him. And I’ll help you. I’ll go with you to the city to kill him. I swear that before my goddess, on my life,” Seraphina continued. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. She meant every word and she was desperate for him to believe her.

Astarion stared at her for a moment longer.

“You don’t have to believe me, but I’ve, uh, I’ve handled quite worse,” Seraphina said. She hadn’t told him yet but, in truth, the prospect of a vampire lord was much less daunting after her experience a few months ago.

“You’re…sweet,” he replied. “Have fun with your magic. I’ll be searching for a meal.”

“Thanks. Be careful,” Seraphina replied. Astarion walked away from camp, disappearing into the darkness beyond the illuminated mushrooms. This wasn’t the last time they would have this conversation, so she was fine with him leaving.

Someone cleared their throat.

“I hope this seat isn’t taken,” Gale said shyly, gesturing at the now empty mushroom. She wasn’t sure whether it was Gale’s blush, his endearing smile, or his eyes that looked at her as if she was the best thing he’d ever seen, but Gale’s very presence gave her butterflies.

“It’s open if you can be less of a nuisance than my last audience,” she teased.

“I swear to be the most respectful spectator,” Gale smiled as he sat on the mushroom.

Seraphina turned back to her work area. Anxiety made her hands shake. Gods, she didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of him. She took another deep breath and closed her eyes, holding her hands together in front of her. She repeated her process, creating plant growth on top of the spike growth, healed herself and Gale, summoned a magma mephit that Gale swiftly eliminated, but still not a result she wanted.

“Seraphina, I hope it’s not rude for me to ask you a question,” Gale spoke up. “I haven’t witnessed a sorcerer practice magic before, so my curiosity is quite peaked.”

“Ask away,” she said as gently as possible, trying to mask her growing frustration.

“Is there a certain result you are hoping for?” he asked.

“Yes. I used to be able to call lightning to any place I desired. Before my trial, I mean. I think I can do it again if I keep trying.”

“Would you be amenable to assistance?”

“You are a good teacher. I would be,” she said as she brought her hands back together.

She heard Gale stand, followed by the crunch of the ground, before she felt the warmth of his body as he stopped next to her. Her breath caught in her lungs.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed. His tone, authoritative and direct, sent a hot shiver down her spine that settled in her core.

Seraphina closed her eyes, choosing to lean into Gale’s voice rather than make a snarky comment about how she already does that.

“Listen to the world around you.”

Wyll was calling to Scratch, praising the dog as they played fetch. Karlach and Shadowheart were asking Halsin dozens of questions, all three seated round the campfire. There were creaks and bangs and other sounds that echoed around the chasm they had set up camp, but other than that, nothing.

“Do you remember what it felt like to connect with a tempest?” Gale asked.

Seraphina opened her mouth to answer.

“Don’t speak,” Gale said.

She closed her mouth immediately and tried to ignore how heated her body was becoming listening to him. She could remember. How could she forget? Harnessing the power of a howling gale at her fingers was what she knew best. She used to command lightning and control the weather around her. She was born to manipulate the storm. She could never forget it.

“Connect to it. Call to it.”

The sharp shock of lightning connecting with her as she forced it to strike. The pleasant relationship as it traveled through her fingertips. She could almost feel it even though it was far away from where she was in the Underdark. She could feel that hum just beneath her skin.

With a grunt, she opened her eyes, her arms flew open in a straight line, and she felt the power surge through her as a long, wide bolt of lightning left her hands in a straight line. Seraphina huffed out a laugh before beginning to fully chuckle as Gale beamed at her.

He clapped. “I take it that’s what you were hoping for?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Seraphina gushed. “Gods, that was – ”

“Ah!”

Gale and Seraphina quickly tuned on their heels at the sound of Shadowheart’s yelp and gasps escaped from both as instinct kicked in. Three figures in black cloaks were at the campfire. Shadowheart was stumbling away, blood trailing from a gash in her arm. Another had his dagger raised above Wyll, whose hands were already sparking red with the beginning of an eldritch blast.

“Flagra!” Shadowheart shouted, launching a guiding bolt at the cloaked person standing closer to her. Halsin wild shaped into a bear, launching himself at the person attacking Shadowheart. Karlach dodged the stab of the figure who pointed his dagger at her.

As quickly as time seemed to go faster, it suddenly slowed as Seraphina felt a hand wrap around one of her horns and yank.

“In Beshaba’s name,” hissed a voice into her ear.

As the dagger began to slice into the side of her neck, she felt an overwhelming tide of energy flow through her right along with the hot pain. She could feel it – her body calling to the storm.

The person behind her screeched, their hands falling away from her as lightning struck them.

“Detono!”

Seraphina felt the blast of thunderous force all around her, but she was unmoved. Gale’s hands clutched her arms and yanked her body forward as she struggled to move her trembling legs.

Think. She commanded herself. Seraphina straightened and looked at the figure that had been thrown by Gale’s thunderwave, whose cloak had fallen, revealing a bald elven man. She watched her blood drip off his dagger.

He stood, snarling, and began to run towards Seraphina and Gale. As soon as his sprint began, Seraphina prepared a sacred flame, only for an arrow to emerge from his chest, a small grunt pushed out from his lips as his body fell forward. Astarion stood a few feet away, his eyes blazing as he headed towards another man running at Shadowheart.

A sharp pain exploded in Seraphina’s shoulder, and she screamed. She looked and saw the tip of a dagger sticking through her body. Gale launched a ray of frost as she turned, only to see the thrower of the dagger swiftly dodge the spell.

“Tormentum!” Seraphina shouted. As the first missile shot from her fingertip, the vibration of a wild magic surge filled her bones. While her target fell over, dead, thunder rolled, blue light exploded in her vision, and she heard Gale scream. Dread came over her as she realized lightning had struck all around her.

No. No.

Not again.

Her heart dropped as she looked for her companion.

“Gale!” Seraphina screeched. He had fallen to the ground, burns marking his skin, his hair singed, and his clothes scorched. He was still breathing, but unconscious. She quickly looked around to see if there were any more assailants.

There was a sickening crunch as Karlach’s axe pierced the face of the man beneath her. Shadowheart stood over a body that had been mutilated with necrotic magic. Astarion was going through the pockets of a body. Wyll emerged from the shadows, covered in blood.

“Halsin?” Seraphina shouted.

“Right here.”

Halsin appeared from the other side of his tent, dragging a body.

“This one still breathes. For now,” the druid said as he tossed the unconscious man near the campfire.

“Maybe he’ll tell us what the hells this was about,” Karlach huffed.

Seraphina had stopped paying attention after hearing Halsin calmly reply. The threat was gone, but Gale was in danger. She lowered her hands to him and then immediately snatched them back. She stared at her palms.

“Shadowheart! Help!” Seraphina screamed.

Shadowheart staggered over.

“Gods! What happened?” Shadowheart asked, blue magic emanating from her hands as she began to heal Gale’s wounds. “Are you out of spells?”

Seraphina shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. Please, just take care of him. I’ll…I’ll go get some scrolls,” she hauled herself up and she tried to run, but the world spun around her, and she collapsed to the ground. She did this. Her magic did this to him.

Tymora allowed this to happen.

No, she thought. This was Beshaba’s doing.

Her body shook as she tried to stand. Her blood had been running cold, her fingers and feet numb, her mind reeling, ever since the man whispered in her ear. But none of that mattered right now. If Gale died…

Gods, she didn’t want to think of it. The first time he died, days after they met, it had been scary, but that was before Gale dared to enthrall her and make her hang on every word he said. It felt nothing like this. This was a terror that threatened to make her heart stop.

Seraphina yanked her bag of scrolls out of her tent, emptying all the contents onto the ground. She frantically searched for the scroll of restoration. She didn’t cease when she felt cold hands grasp her shoulders.

“Seraphina, you’re bleeding horribly,” Astarion said.

“I’ll live,” she replied, blinking to try and clear her quickly blurring vision.

“Here, you fool,” Astarion pushed a healing potion into Seraphina’s hands and snatched up a scroll, sprinting over to Shadowheart and Gale. As the tiefling looked down, she could see that the entire left side of her shirt was soaked with her own blood. She reached up and felt the gaping wound that nearly sliced her throat open.

Oh. That’s why she was lightheaded.

Seraphina uncorked the bottle and drained it. As she got to her feet again, ready to return to Gale’s side, she saw Halsin standing over the unconscious man, rope in his hand. Seraphina’s stomach turned as she recognized the black antlers tattooed on his head.

I truly am a risk to all of them.

“My lady, guide my hand,” she uttered to herself.

x x x

As Shadowheart expended all her healing spells on Gale, Seraphina kneeled next to him, clutching his hand between hers. She muttered prayers over and over. With each one, instead of her spirits becoming bolstered and hopeful, she felt herself sinking further and further into an abyss.

“Seraphina,” Shadowheart said, placing a hand on the tiefling’s shoulder. “All we can do is let him rest now. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Seraphina asked quickly. Shadowheart pursed her lips.

“He’s stabilized.”

Seraphina looked back at Gale, and she choked back a sob at the slowly disappearing burn on his face.

“Seraphina, you need to talk to the others. We have to discuss this. I know you care for him, but sitting here won’t help us prepare if another attack is imminent,” Shadowheart urged.

“I know,” Seraphina murmured. She pressed a long kiss to the back of Gale’s hand, slowly lowering it to his side. She squeezed his hand, and she considered telling Shadowheart to just leave, but she couldn’t. She would be back.

Both the clerics slipped out of Gale’s tent. Halsin and Wyll sat around the fire. Astarion was kneeled in front of the man that Halsin tied up, staring at the tattoos on his head.

“Wyll, with all your infernal knowledge, do you have any idea who would get this monstrosity as a tattoo?” Astarion asked.

“I’ve never seen it before,” Wyll admitted. “But perhaps someone else has.” Astarion turned and his face softened as his eyes met Seraphina’s. But he wasn’t the only one staring at her. The pressure of everyone’s gaze made her want to disappear.

Seraphina swallowed.

“He…they’re assassins of the Black Fingers,” she said.

“Black Fingers?” Wyll asked. “What in the hells is that?”

“The Black Fingers are assassins that serve Beshaba, the goddess of misfortune. Lady Luck’s divine enemy,” Seraphina replied.

She sighed and clenched her fists.

“They came to kill me – ”

“More will come.”

Everyone’s head spun to look at the awake assassin. He tilted his head back to glare at Seraphina.

“All Tymora’s Chosen will fall. Everyone who is trying to become her Chosen will fall. Every worshipper will fall,” he spat. “Every single one a sacrifice in the Maid of Misfortune’s name.”

Astarion suddenly slipped out his dagger, held back the man’s head by his scalp, and slit his throat. Seraphina watched as blood gurgled from his lips and spilled from the deep cut. She could hear everyone arguing over whether it would’ve been more advantageous to leave the man alive. But none of their voices mattered.

The ‘gift’ from Seraphina’s goddess had once again nearly claimed the life of someone dear to her. Assassins threatened her life and the life of her companions. The trial was always going to be a test of luck, a gamble. Seraphina knew that and she still went all in. She took her losses and kept betting anyway, determined to prove her trust in her own luck in this game of chance.

But now, and not for the first time, Seraphina wasn’t so sure if she wanted to keep playing.

Like Real People Do, Chapter Nine

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