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loviatarsluv · 4 months

Note

If you’re still taking writing prompts, may I request Halsin comforting the reader who gets bad anxiety about going to sleep?

ahhh this is so sweet and definitely something I think about constantly, imagine curling up in Halsin’s lap and him holding you and comforting you im going to scream!!!!!!!!

ty for this prompt, I needed it 😭

Halsin x gn!reader/tav 🩷

rating: sfw (very soft and fluffy and sweet)

Sleep has never come very easily to you. And the few times it did, it was restless - filled from start to finish with nightmares that always inevitably woke you up in the middle of the night, clutching onto your bedroll, chest heaving and eyes streaked with tears.

You’d been able to hide it from the others for the most part, but Halsin noticed a few nights ago while on night watch, when you lurched out of your bedroll, silently sobbing. He watched you as you tried to calm yourself, burying your head in your hands and curling your knees to your chest. He wanted so badly to comfort you then, but he didn’t wish to make you uncomfortable in his efforts. So he silently watched you until you finally settled back into your bedroll, and your eyes closed once again for the night.

The next night, you noticed he’d been lingering close to you all evening, periodically asking you if you needed any help with anything, even offering you a cup of the tea that he’d brewed, bringing it to you with a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

He towers over you as you sit on a log next to the campfire, watching the flames lick at the night air and the smoke swirl and try to find shapes in it. You almost gawk at his size and stature, despite having already spent a considerable amount of time with him - you’d think you’d be used to it by now.

You smiled and took the cup gratefully, your fingers brushing against his as you took it from him.

“Thank you.”

His smile softens, and he brings a hand up to brush a lock of hair behind your ear.

“No need. It should help you sleep, we must take all the rest we can before morning.” He says, resting his hand on your cheek - his warm palms feel like a beam of sunlight.

Your face falls.

“Y-yeah. Right.” You reply, your voice meek and small as your eyes fall to the cup in your hands, staring at your reflection in the tea.

Halsin notices your demeanor shift, his brows softening as he kneels in front of you.

He holds your chin between his thumb and his index finger, guiding your face up so your eyes meet.

“What is troubling you? Is there anything I can do to help you?” He asks, his expression outwardly calm but his light eyes flicker with concern.

Your body tenses, and you feel your eyes start to sting with tears that you can’t shed. You shake your head, and force another weak smile.

“I’m okay, really. Nothing dire or important. Thank you.”

You feel a tightness in your chest - you wanted so badly to talk to someone about this, you knew that you likely needed to, but for some reason the words just wouldn’t come out, the taste of them bitter on your tongue. It wasn’t out of fear of Halsin judging you, as you knew he was the last person in the realm that would judge you for such a thing or probably most things. He had a true heart of gold.

Part of you just wanted to preserve the image of you that he had in his mind - strong and fearless and unbreakable. It was unbecoming of a leader to be wrecked over something as simple as nightmares.

“It is important to me, if it is important enough for you to lose sleep over. But, if you are not ready to talk about it, I shall be here when you are ready.” He says simply, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes and savor his touch, still feeling his lips burning on your skin even after he pulls away.

He turns to walk away, and you grab his arm to stop him.

“Halsin?”

He turns, his scarred face glowing in the orange light of the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames. “Yes, my heart?”

“I’m so happy you joined us. Thank you.”

His eyes soften more than you’ve ever seen, almost resembling those of a puppy whose just been adopted.

“As am I.”

You give his arm a gentle squeeze before letting go, and watch him lumber back to his own tent, sitting just outside of it and fixing his gaze back on you. He watched you as if he were ready to leap in front of an arrow for you, as if he were ready to fight to the death for you. Your cheeks heat under his stare, and you look back down at your tea.

Just drink it. You need to sleep. He made it for you, just drink it.

You take a big sip, the warm liquid heating you as it goes down your throat and it tastes of chamomile and honey. You smile, as you remember Halsin telling you of his sweet tooth, and how you teased him about being a bear that loves honey.

The tea helps you ease your nerves just enough to finally let yourself feel tired enough to seek your bedroll and lay down, slowly drifting off to sleep.

You only sleep for a few hours, every second of it plagued by your usual nightmares - flashes of bloody battles and mind flayers and everyone you care for either hurt or dying. Just as an arrow hits you in your dream, you wake with a start, lurching out of your bedroll, gasping and clawing at your blanket.

Your eyes burn with previously unshed tears, now falling in a full torrential downpour. You bring your knees to your chest and just sob, unable to control or care about your volume as every sob racks through your body like a tidal wave.

You don’t notice Halsin approaching you before you feel his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his lap, cradling you and shushing you until your breathing calms.

“S-sorry…” you sob into his chest, gripping the fabric of his nightclothes for dear life.

He shakes his head, then rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Do not apologize. You are not made of steel. You are made of flesh and blood, and a beating heart. You are made to feel.”

You sigh, your shoulders still shaking and your hands and voice trembling as you speak. “I’m just so exhausted… and I can’t even find respite in sleeping.”

He tightens his arms around you, tilting his head so that his cheek presses to your scalp. “Would it help to have someone to keep you company? I can stay here beside you, if you desire.”

You nod, your breathing finally slows and your body starts to settle. “Please.”

He scoots aside into your bedroll with you as you cling to him, refusing to let him go and let go of the bliss that is being enveloped in his embrace. He grabs your blanket, pulling it so that it covers you, tucking it in between the two of you so it’ll stay.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, his large hands gently rubbing your arm and leg.

You nod, and snuggle into his chest.

“Could you talk to me? Like… tell me a story, or something,”

You don’t see it but you can feel the smile radiating off of him as he lets out a contented breath, then places a kiss to the top of your head.

“Of course.”

He begins to tell you of his time with Thaniel all those centuries ago, of their adventures in the forest and describing the serenity of being wrapped in nature’s embrace. He tells you of the times he was in wild shape and got mistaken by other bears as a true bear, and how he acquired the large scar on his face. You listen to the steady beat of his heart and the gentle rumbling in his chest as he speaks and it’s infinitely more effective than even a lullaby is to lull a baby to sleep.

Your eyes slowly close and you drift back to sleep, this time, rather than horrific nightmares, you dream of a calm and peaceful clearing, the wet grass tickling your bare feet as you walk - and you see him, waiting near the water, hand outstretched and beckoning you. You smile in your sleep.

He looks down at you, watching you as you slumber, his heart pounding as he runs his thumb along your cheek. He would cherish this moment of seeing you in pure bliss, and cherish the thought of him having given it to you. He’d give you the moon and the stars if he could, he thinks.

god I am unwell I love him so much halsin snuggles would fix me I think

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maharlika · 6 months

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flight

a short halstarion ficlet i wrote for @kingthunder for the prompt: "halsin teaches astarion how to wildshape into a bat"

uhhh that's not quite what happens here, but i hope you enjoy this ramble anyway! this is pre-relationship also so kajdlakjsd

Astarion stops short right outside of Halsin’s tent, and clears his throat.

“Druid, I’d like to speak with you.”

There’s shuffling from inside the tent, and then the door flap parts and Halsin steps out. Astarion fights the reflex to take a step back––he always forgets just how much larger the other elf is.

“Astarion,” Halsin says, inclining his head in greeting. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Astarion looks askance at the rest of the camp. Everyone seems occupied, but in such a small space, and with such insatiable gossips as Gale, Karlach and Withers, there’s no telling who might be listening in.

“Perhaps we could speak in private,” Halsin says, clearly reading Astarion’s worry.

“Perhaps,” Astarion replies. Halsin lifts the entrance to his tent and gestures as Astarion blinks in surprise.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Oh, I––all right.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Astarion hunches down and enters Halsin’s tent. Contrary to what he’d expected, the tent isn’t a bear’s den. Inside, it is sparse but clean, and it smells like rich soil and herbs. There’s a bedroll tucked into one corner, and green moss covers the floor like a soft blanket.

Astarion takes a ginger cross-legged seat while Halsin rummages around in one of his packs.

“I’m sure you’d prefer something more––sanguine, but all I have is tea,” Halsin says, his back to Astarion. He’s a hulking thing in the enclosed space, and Astarion feels a zip of something that’s not-quite-apprehension slithering down his spine to be so close to something that he knows could maul him in a blink of an eye.

“I can’t remember the last time I drank tea. I don’t know if I can,” Astarion says.

“Even if you can’t, it’s a cold night out––maybe you’d like to keep your hands warm.”

With that, Halsin pours them both tea in wooden cups. Astarion rubs his thumb across the smooth grain and watches Halsin from the rim of the cup as he takes a careful sip.

“I didn’t come here for tea, you know,” Astarion says as a pocket of warmth settles somewhere in his chest.

“I know,” Halsin says serenely, looking at Astarion with an unnervingly frank gaze. “What is it that you need?”

“I don’t know if it’s polite to ask.”

Halsin raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know the first thing about druids,” Astarion continues, before he can stop himself or think better of it. “Well––I do know some things. But I’d like to ask…when you’re––when you become a bear, are you still in there? Inside of––the animal?”

Halsin listens to Astarion intently, with no sign of derision or amusement.

“You’re not the first to ask the question, and you’ll not be the last,” Halsin says, after a moment and another sip of tea. “Many druids have philosophized long and hard on this, but I shall not subject you to my people’s ramblings. It is different for every druid, but suffice it to say: yes, we are still ‘in there’. I am the beast, and the beast is me. It is only my form that changes, not my personhood. When I am in Wild Shape, though, it is true that the affairs of people seem much less…important. Other things are magnified instead. Emotions, desires, senses. It is easy to get lost in them.

And there have been…accounts, of course. Live as a beast for long enough, content yourself with the thoughts of a beast and the actions of a beast, and you may lose yourself. But for a regular druid spending short spans of time in Wild Shape, it is of no consequence.”

Astarion drinks Halsin’s words like parched ground drinking the rain.

“Would you teach me?” he asks. “Is it possible for someone like me to learn?”

If Halsin is surprised by the question, he does not show it. He brings his tea to his mouth and takes a long swallow, closing his eyes as he ponders.

“It is a skill like any other,” Halsin says. “I have seen you use magic, and our kind is naturally attuned to the natural world. I don’t see why not.”

“And you’re not going to ask me why?” Astarion says warily.

“Would you tell me?”

“Well, not if you don’t ask,” Astarion says, fighting and failing not to pout. “You’re ruining my aura of mystery, you know.”

“Apologies,” Halsin says with a huff of laughter. “Astarion, why would you like to learn Wild Shape?”

“I think I would make a very fetching bat,” Astarion says flippantly. “And I do tire of walking all day. Tav takes us up all these mountains and hills––it’s wretched. Why walk if I could fly? And why fly if someone could carry me?”

Halsin hums in agreement, but Astarion can see he’s not so easily fooled. Those keen eyes are upon him again, gaze unrelenting.

“It’s all right, you know,” Halsin says, “to not want to be a person sometimes.”

Astarion stiffens.

“Rest easy,” Halsin says, “I’ll not subject you to a lecture. As for your request, I’m sure I can fulfill it. When would you like to start?”

“It’s that easy?” Astarion says, squinting in suspicion.

“Oh, learning will not be easy. But this conversation? Yes, I’d like to think so. More tea?”

“I––” for a moment, Astarion flounders. He should go, he thinks. He’s got what he came here for, and there’s no more to discuss unless Halsin means to teach him how to Wild Shape right at this moment.

“Do you know what it feels like?” Astarion asks, eventually. “To want everything to just stop?”

“Better than you might think,” Halsin says.

“Oh?”

“A story for another time, perhaps.”

“Well, aren’t you full of secrets.”

“I like to cultivate an aura of mystery.”

Astarion barks out a laugh at that, which makes Halsin smile.

As Halsin pours them more tea, Astarion allows himself to imagine it: the wind beneath dark wings, his body light enough to soar. It would be so nice, he thinks, to be free for once.

#halstarion #halsin #astarion #bg3 #bg3 fic #rai writes

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valiantvillain · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @mxanigel. And here's for posting my first WIP Wednesday on here too.

Characters: Miraz (half-orc Tav) x Astarion

No pressure tags: @malabadspice, @mightymizora

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She found Astarion lounging outside his tent, gazing up at the sky, the epitome of indolence and ennui. Almost as if he had purposefully posed himself. It would have made for quite the romantic image…for a teenage girl. She had half a mind to leave the man to his musings and go to bed before he noticed her. He could have just glanced her way and ignored her, but no, he had to regard her, take in her presence. She folded her arms, expectant.

“It’s quite a sight,” he said in that sultry saccharine voice that made her eye twitch. “The stars, I mean. I could take or leave your chin.”

So could most people in her experience. The modest underbite and tusks tended to offset an otherwise picturesque image. An impassive hum buzzed behind her lips. Miraz chose to humor him and turn her eyes up toward the night sky.

Most dusks in Baldur’s Gate ushered in a thick blanket of starless night, shades of softened sapphire in summer and inky blackness during the colder months. Stars tended to hide in the city, fading away in the light of the sea of lanterns and glowing fireplaces. What few you saw were usually dim and elusive. She had once gotten a telescope for her birthday, a gift from one of the priests at the temple of Helm who had known her since she was a babe. Those gleaming points of light in the distance had been pretty but she had always preferred the flicker of flames with their warmth and their smoldering embers, the smells of incense and woodsmoke mingling with the evening air. It was drinking wine by the hearth after a holiday meal, it was reading books by candlelight under blankets, it was near and alive. What did she care for spying on stars?

Out here in the wilderness however, hundreds or possibly thousands of miles away from so much as a village, it was as if she were looking out across an entirely different sky. It held so many more colors here, an ever shifting gradient of greens and blues and more stars glittering at one time than she had ever seen in her entire life. It seemed so much more expansive as well, without all the walls and buildings to cage it in, like it went on forever, less like staring into an abyss and more like observing an endless ocean. She supposed the stars did have their charm.

“I guess they are beautiful tonight, in their way,” she mused with a shrug. Still not her cup of tea, but she could perhaps understand why another would appreciate them.

“I can see the stars from Baldur’s Gate, of course, but not with such clarity,” he replied, drawing her gaze back towards him. He had a preference for speaking in a slow, languid drawl she noticed. It struck her as odd for someone who talked so much. “It got me thinking. Reflecting on what tomorrow might bring, when we find the druid Halsin. Will he know how to bring the worm under control? Will this little adventure of ours be over?”

Again with controlling the tadpole instead of getting rid of it. Why the insistence? And to what end? Miraz had a hard time buying that their newly acquired ability to read minds was a portent of something greater. Certainly not anything with consequences that far outweighed the benefits. For that was always how it went, wasn’t it? Power but at an inevitably unbearable cost. In this case, likely turning into soulless tentacled monsters. She for one would be glad when they found a cure and concluded this misadventure. Besides, given how Astarion rolled his eyes so often she thought they would stick that way whenever she so much as contemplated a charitable act, she doubted he would mourn the loss of her company when this was all over, nor she his.

Yet he watched her with intrigue, as if waiting for something more than just a conversational answer.

She scoffed, allowing herself the barest tug of a smirk at her lips. “What? Will you miss me?”

“Ha! Why not?” Well, to his credit, he had laughed as he rose to his feet, though it was short bark of a sound. Dare she say it, he seemed satisfied, impressed even, as if he had found whatever he had been looking for in her words. Like he had found just the right foothold to scale up a wall. “You’ve been to the hells and back. Survived the crash. Survived everything that’s followed. I’m not easily impressed by people, but you’re stronger than I gave you credit for.”

Miraz could say the same of him, though her expectations had been low to say the least. After his initial poor attempt at trying to kill her, she had suspected they would end up babysitting him more than anything else, especially given the demeanor she had come to associate with nobles who hadn’t worked a day in their life. He had surprised her, however. The elf proved to be a damn good shot and hardly shy when it came to fighting in close quarters. Nor did he utter a complaint when he ended a battle as drenched in blood as she did. Add in his skill at finessing a lock to open or disarming a trap and he was turning out to be more useful than she once thought.

Still, when it came to the matter of authenticity or sincerity, to say she didn’t trust the man as far as she could throw him would have been far too generous. More apt to say she didn’t trust him as far as Gale could throw him. To say nothing of the fact of how he seemed to watch her with more than a hint of disdainful distrust.

“I thought you didn’t like me.” She kept her voice even, cool and nonchalant as if observing the weather. A simple statement of fact.

For a fraction of a moment, she thought she saw his brow twitched, a short unexpected hitch in his demeanor. A moment’s hesitation before the wheels in his head once again turned.

“You have your charms…more than you think,” he said with the hint of a smirk and the artful sweeping of a singular bow.

Ah, was it her turn then? Had the process of elimination gone so horribly awry that he was left with no other option than the half-orc for whatever it was he hand in mind? She was used to being everyone’s last resort at this point, though that didn’t make it sting any less. These days she shielded herself by refusing to entertain the idea of flirtation. It was easier that way. Fewer games to play and fewer headaches to deal with. Astarion was scarcely different from all the charming boys who had been dared by their cantankerous friends to put their skills to test with her. She had fallen for it once as a girl, gone farther than she had ever cared to had she known beforehand. He bore the same rehearsed look of pleasant interest. A smile on his pretty pillowy lips that was a touch too composed, a bit too perfect. Like a shopkeep straining the very boundaries of his politeness to deal with a difficult customer and still get their money. It was a performance and nothing more, a means to some end she had yet to determine. Whatever “charms” he claimed she possessed, they were a lie. It was always a lie.

“Watch yourself, Astarion,” warned Miraz coolly, schooling her features into a neutral expression.

His disappointment was swift, gone nearly as soon as it appeared to give way to a grin of playful admonishment. “Oh, you’re no fun.”

Certainly not his sort, of that she was certain. She rolled her eyes before turning on her heel, calling over her shoulder.

“Good night, Astarion.”

“Sleep tight,” he called back, a little too exuberant for her liking. “I’ll see you later, I’m sure.”

She had rebuffed him, yet even as she sauntered away, his eyes followed her, burning into the back of her skull. It was almost enough to make her shudder.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #wip wednesday #miraz #half orc #paladin #astarion #fanfic

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iamthunderhearmehowl · 6 months

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BG3 AU Circle of Decay: Dammon Headcannons

hey hi it's me, again, currently dying from food poisoning at 1am

So I was sitting in my office thinking about how much I love this Tiefling and I realized. . . . .as a character you probably never want to hear that from ANY writer, because that means you'll get emotional damage for breakfast.

🌟 These headcannons are for a BG3 AU called "Circle of Decay", all the content for this AU can be found here -> (Link)

General

So we all know that Dammon and Karlach are kind of an item/ its kind of like puppy love - that being said, I dont think the game eludes to it being more than that

BELIEVE ME I WANT THAT TO HAPPEN - ahem - but in this AU it does not happen

Karlach is so busy that Dammon is just doing his own thing and perfecting his craft - he's not the best blacksmith in Faerune for no reason, and while I'm sure he would wait on her - people just be on different paths, you know?

While his main shop is in Baulder's Gate - he will ocassionally go to the rebuilt town of what was once the shadowfell realm - to sell and work on more items

Since the town's form of payment is primarily services and goods and not money - he does get some pretty sweet kickbacks and of course clients who can pay will get their armor and weapons done at a faster rate

His blacksmithing there is not permenant - they just needed someone with services there every once in a while until the town could officially get their own. Think of it as his 2nd base, his vacation forge, 2nd store location if you will.

The Night They Met

When he met Faeryl - the man was like Oh Shit

The poor girl was half naked / covered in blood and hyperventaliting in the corner of his forge

"I'm so sorry. Please don't freak out. I didn't have anywhere else to hide and I don't want my father knowing. "

He asks her if he should grab the local healer and she quickly responds "No. Please don't. The locals already don't like me and they especially won't after this. I don't want to give my father anymore grief "

He brings her a blanket and a dish with warm water and a rag. He kindly asks if he can clean up the cuts and wounds on her back

As he wipes the blood off of her right shoulder he's almost taken aback - The Symbol of House Vandree is branded there in her skin.

"Please don't tell anyone" she's almost crying. He calms her down and assures he wont - perhaps he could walk her home.

"Where are you staying at? I could deliver you to your father"

"Oh. Yeah I'm staying at the old MoonRise Towers "

"Oh you and your father are staying with Halsin?"

"Uh haha technically? Halsin IS my father"

"Oh you must be one of the adopted children"

"I wish. I would've had a less traumatic childhood. Also, I'm 90 years old - so I'm not a child"

Dammon just looks at her for a second. His brain is malfunctioning. It's currently in the endless loading screen circle and playing weird dial up noises. "I didn't know Halsin had biological children"

"Yeah neither did he, nor I - Quiet frankly when that weird mummy said something I thought he was playing a joke"

"But. . . you're drow? Also you have the marking of House Vandree - one of their slaves?"

"Wow you look more confused and scared than I am, and I'm the one who just accidently murdered a family of deer. Look, It's a long, long story. I also hate to ask this - but I'm not too keen on heading back home and getting a lecture"

Dammon aggrees to let her stay for the rest of the evening - only walking her home after all the villager's had fallen alseep and gotten over the commotion of finding deer entrails near town

He does want an explanation of what all is going on if she's going to stay - so she spills everything.

He seems to be charmed by her - she's wrapped herself up in the blanket and has curled up on a cushion next to the fire. The cup of tea he's given her looks so large in her hands

Since that day - she visits him in the morning to bring him honey buns, cinnamon rolls, etc. More or less it's an excuse to see him.

Faeryl ends up visiting him in the middle of the night every so often when she can't sleep - he's normally up still working anyways

Emotional Damage Headcannons

Faeryl does NOT initally tell him that she's pregnant with is child - she's in disbelief. As far as she knew she couldn't conceive - Fey'ri are normally born when Sun Elves and Tieflings interbred.

As far as she knows she was Drow/Wood Elf - it never occured to her that she had Sun Elf in her blood, although she does have noble blood

One day he notices that Faeryl hasn't come to visit in about 2 days - which was unusual

He heads to Halsin's home to see if she's okay; Mol, Arabella, Halsin, and Greta are all in the kitchen looking STRESSED

They explain that Malice and Alistair came for her and took her back home to Menzobarranzan - forcefully - they fucking just kidnapped her and threatened to slaughter the whole town; she didn't have a choice

Halsin is pacing - worried, he explained that she can't hide her belly for long. It's already starting to show a little bit

Dammon is like "Um what?!"

Gretta sits him down at the table "She hasn't told you? She's carrying your babe."

If he were standing up his knees wouldve buckled and he wouldve hit the ground

The man wants to grab a sword and run towards the underdark - but Mol stops him and points out that hes NOT a fighter (MF ACT 2 WAS SO STRESSFUL BECAUSE HE KEPT WANTING TO JOIN IN ON THE FIGHTS AND HIS ASS KEPT DYING - I RELOADED LIKE 17 TIMES)

If House Vandree were to find out that they have a possible Fey'ri in their possession it's over - they're killing her and taking the babe. The child would be the perfect killing machine - Infernal Blood, Noble Blood, Magic Abilities

Eventually it plays out to where they do get a hold of Dammon and force him to forge Armor for House Vandree (for an upcoming war)

they only allow him to see Faeryl for a mere few minutes before they tear them apart

Anyways - that's all i have for tonight <3 I am currently in the process of writing some scripts to voice act so stay tuned for that.

#bg3 #bg3 halsin #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 fanfiction #bg3-headcannons #bg3 headcanons #baulders gate 3 #bg3 mol #bg3 au #baulder's gate 3 au #bg3 dammon #bg3 arabella #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #bg3 ocs

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amethysts-tavern · 8 months

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#91: Being alone.

Alone time is hard to come by when you travel with a large party: a dozen or so companions and associates, a menagerie of animals, a stowaway or two, and of course whatever Withers is. Some days it feels like you’ll never get a moment to yourself. Someone always needs you, whether it’s to stop infighting or to peel the potatoes. Even your sleep has been disrupted by devils, vampires, and ambushes.

Gods know you love your merry band of misfits. But sometimes… sometimes you just want to curl up with a blanket and a cup of tea in a cozy nook somewhere far away from everyone and just have time to sit with your thoughts. Today was one such day.

The day’s battle didn’t go as well as I had wanted. You realize now that it was a mistake bringing both Shadowheart and Lae’zel. You were hoping that a small victory would help them get along better, but it seemed to just make things worse.

“You need to heal me when I’m hit,” Lae’zel demands. “As the only melee fighter…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there. The only melee fighter?” Karlach joins the discussion.

“Chk. As I was saying, as the only melee *fighter,* it’s imperative that I remain in top condition at all times.”

“Sorry, Lae’zel, Tav was near death. I thought that might be a little more important than kissing your boo-boo,” Shadowheart retorts snarkily.

You rub the bridge of your nose and sidestep the conversation to find a quieter place to sit down. You find a felled tree and sit down, facing away from camp. Your head drops into your hands and you massage your temples. It’s not long before a deep but gentle voice grabs your attention. Of all people, it’s Halsin who finds you.

“They can be a bit… much… sometimes,” he says, somehow knowing why you had found a spot just outside of camp to end the day. “Days like this I turn into a bear and slip away for a few moments of solitude. No one goes looking for a bear,” he chuckles. You smile at the idea of becoming a woodland creature to escape the tedium of being human, even if just for a few moments. Admittedly, it’s a delightful thought.

“I’ve got a few spells left for the day. I could polymorph you into a sheep… just for a little while,” the druid offers. You chuckle at the thought - bouncing around in the grass, finding a shady tree to sit under and watch the world go by.

“Do it,” you say hastily. “Make me a sheep.”

“You’re sure?” Halsin asks.

“100%,” you respond confidently, seeing Jaheira crossing camp to make a beeline toward you. It’s not unlikely that she is in need of something.

“Alright, just stay where I can see you. There are goblins out there and mutton is always on the menu,” Halsin warns before quickly casting the spell.

And just like that, you’re a sheep. You bleat a thank you before bounding off into the open field to frolic among the wildflowers.

“Halsin, where did Tav go? Weren’t they just here? I have a question for them,” Jaheira asks, approaching the large elf.

“They said something about going for a walk. They should be back soon,” he responds, his eyes never leaving your wooly form. For a few minutes, you are blissfully alone among the tall grass. No one else pays any mind to the stray sheep just outside of camp.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #halsin

14 notes · View notes