Jacob Seed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
weaponwithoutpurpose) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
openmisc2025-10-29 08:14 pm
weaponwithoutpurpose) wrote in openmisc2025-10-29 08:14 pm
Jacob/Astarion/Rosita
It takes him about two minutes to both scout the place and find a river to sit beside, just like he said he would. He doesn't get out the fishing pole or anything too quick, but he does put Mae on alert, just in case.
He's going to give them a few minutes. Just like he said. Just like they talked about. He's not going to worry until that time has passed because they said they would come and he trusts them more than he trusts any other person.
Right now, he's wants to sit in the wind, the actual wind, and listen to the water, the real fucking water, babble by. He wants to bask in the outdoors and let Mae take over just a little bit of the guarding.
He's going to give them a few minutes. Just like he said. Just like they talked about. He's not going to worry until that time has passed because they said they would come and he trusts them more than he trusts any other person.
Right now, he's wants to sit in the wind, the actual wind, and listen to the water, the real fucking water, babble by. He wants to bask in the outdoors and let Mae take over just a little bit of the guarding.
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"He will be," he assures her. "Five minutes." He repeats that mantra. "Five minutes."
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"We promised him a soft place to land," she reminds him, takes another moment longer and another, slower kiss before she considers starting to climb down.
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He lets her go carefully, gently bringing her into one last kiss.
"Seems there's a settlement down the river. We're on the outskirts now. No one has come by and no one is close enough for Mae to alert," he explains to her, still marveling at the fact that she is here, with him, close enough to touch.
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The 'five minutes' - more like half an hour, the Admiral can't do any fucking thing right - is a briefer span from Astarion's perspective than he'd planned for. He'd committed himself to spending as long as it took for Gale to graduate or be snatched from the ship, be that weeks or months or (gods preserve him) even longer, and he's done neither. Instead he's run, like a coward, and no number of justifications are going to help.
He graduated, he reminds himself. He didn't become a good person, just less...actively harmful to those around him.
He isn't exactly encumbered. Most of what's precious to him is almost weightless - not least the magic jewellery he's picked up along the way, including the new ring that's allowing him to walk in the sunlight. The stuff of legend, and Florian had just pawned it off on him like some random trinket he'd found between the cushions. Incredible. Everything else is in a pack slung over his shoulders, or - like his bow, quiver and knives - strapped to him within easy reach.
The only thing loose is Aylin, who is thankfully not as keen on exploring the wilderness as she is on staying close. When she darts off along the riverbank, then, Astarion yelps in unpleasant surprise - he's got no way of knowing it's because she's caught a familiar scent.