Ask Prompt Fill For @astreamofstars From This Ask Meme: Light And Dark Metaphors Jaheira/Khalid - "ships

Ask prompt fill for @astreamofstars from this ask meme: Light and Dark Metaphors Jaheira/Khalid - "ships in the night" This is a prequel to one of the longer J/K fics I've been working on. :D Perhaps it will help me with motivation to get that done eventually.

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“No, no,” the Rashemaar tells her cheerfully. “He is a miniature giant space hamster. The name is most clear, is it not?”

Jaheira squints, peering at the small, furry rodent in the man’s hand. It stares back at her with beady, intelligent eyes, casually licking its paw to wash its face. “...Perfectly,” she says dryly.

She cannot quite figure their new traveling companions out. Well - Dynaheir is not so much of a mystery; she is stern with an almost regal air, and not (or at least not yet) much given to casual conversation, but Jaheira can understand that well enough. She herself is not generally voluble with strangers.

But Minsc… Minsc is a puzzle. She was, at first, utterly convinced that he was having a laugh at her expense, with his hamster and his odd manner and his habit of hurling himself directly at any enemy they encounter with a loud cry and remarkably little concern for self-preservation. But as they have traveled on together, she is starting to realize that he is, in fact, just like that.

The hamster is a strange one, too. Despite surreptitiously casting a spell for animal speech on herself, she cannot get a word out of it; it just stares at her with those beady little eyes and then scurries up and down Minsc’s arm.

The whole thing has her deeply on edge - more so than she already was just by virtue of accompanying the two near-children from Candlekeep who make up the rest of their party. When she and Khalid departed on this Nashkel fact-finding mission, they had not expected to end up gathering strays along the way. It makes things far more difficult…

“Minsc would ask if Jaheira also keeps an animal,” Minsc continues with that air of affable good-humor, seemingly unperturbed by Jaheira’s evident confusion. “But Minsc has seen the truth. In battle, Jaheira holds all manner of animals inside her!”

“...That is one way of putting it.” Jaheira has to admit she has never heard wildshaping described quite this way before.

“Boo wonders if you have ever turned into a hamster,” Minsc says eagerly.

“Well, he may continue wondering.” Jaheira sighs. It is not really Minsc’s fault that she is stuck on guard duty with him. This was, in fact, Dynaheir’s request - that the watch be split so that at least one of the pair of Rashemaar travelers be awake at all times. Jaheira can even understand why; in Dynaheir’s place, she would not offer full trust immediately either.

But if she has many more nights spent with only Minsc, followed by an empty bed as Khalid takes his shift, she might quite possibly go mad.

“Are you and Dynaheir… attached?” she asks carefully. Perhaps, if the answer is yes, there might be hope that this state of affairs will not last long. 

“Minsc is very attached to Dynaheir!” Minsc replies jovially. “By oath and by word - and by spell, at times, when Minsc becomes lost and must be dragged along. She is Minsc’s wychlaran, his witch, and Minsc shall follow her until he dies or the dajemma is complete, and see she comes to no harm.”

He squints at Jaheira curiously. “Is this what you mean by attached?”

“It is not. But never mind it,” Jaheira says, with a sort of weary resignation. She tilts her head, peering past the veil of leaves above them to judge the moon’s position. “It grows late enough,” she adds. “Go wake your… ‘witch’, and I shall wake my husband.”

Without waiting for a response, she trudges towards the edge of camp and the familiar, battered tent that she has carried since before she and Khalid even met. Poking her head inside, she nudges gently at the pile of blankets on the bedroll.

“Khalid?” she calls softly, her voice far gentler than it was in talking to Minsc. “Wake up, my love.” The blanket emits a drowsy groan, and she smiles to herself. “You are called to the watch, Harper.”

“B-be damned to the watch,” Khalid mumbles, muffled from within the bunched fabric.

Jaheira climbs fully into the tent, reaching under the blanket until she finds her husband’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “Shall I tell Dynaheir she shall watch alone?”

“N-no, no, I am up. I am up. I d-do not dare annoy that woman, I th-th-think.” Khalid sighs and sits up, coming fully into view as the blankets fall away. His hair is tousled and messy and his eyelids are still heavy with sleep - but his expression brightens as he catches sight of her face. “A k-kiss before I go?” he asks as he begins to clamber past her towards the tent flap.

As if she would deny it. With the current state of things, this is the only proper moment of privacy she and Khalid are afforded; it feels like clinging to water dripping rapidly out of her hands. She doesn’t even waste time answering, just cups his face in both hands and kisses him so fiercely that he overbalances and falls into her embrace. 

One of his arms locks around her waist with eager, thrilling strength, catching him in the fall, jolting their bodies together. He is warm from the blankets and his embrace feels welcoming, safe, wonderfully familiar.

“My love…” she mumbles. She rests her hand for a moment against Khalid’s chest, feeling the beat of his heart under his thin shirt. 

He brushes his fingertips against her lips, his eyes bright in the dim light of the fire outside. “Good night, d-darling,” he murmurs. “I will see you soon.”

Then, reluctantly, he draws back and disappears outside, leaving her alone in the tent. With a soft groan, she heaves herself onto the bedroll, stretches out under the blankets, breathes in the scent of him left behind.

She is struck for a moment by visions of a hundred nights in their past journeys traveling alone. It all seems so much simpler by comparison; there was nothing to distract them from each other, no orphaned young wards in need of her protection, no strange new companions carrying hamsters in their pockets. 

Grumbling low in the back of her throat, she rolls over and pulls the blanket around her. Perhaps we must simply settle this business in Nashkel, she thinks. And then matters will return to normal…