A/N: This really is a indulgent story of my playthrough, told through Astarion's POV, featuring my Wild Magic Sorcerer Tav (they/he pronouns), whose name is Moss. They are based on a DnD character I've played before.

Astarion would be the first to say he had not been very impressed the first time he saw the clumsy high elf sauntering off the crashed ship, smiling and inviting everyone they met to join their party. Too much energy, too nice, not enough brains.

They had approached Astarion with trusting eyes and a gullible look. What did surprise him though, was that Astarion couldn't even get his dagger close before they suddenly turned around, still smiling even as they took in the dagger very obviously pointed at them.

"If you're trying to rob me, you're not doing a very good job. Nice work with the distraction though. Clever even, might want to not let the sun reflect off the blade next time."

Astarion was bristling, he wanted nothing but gut the elf where they stood, but he forced himself to keep his cool. "Why, thank you for the advice, now tell me quickly, you are one of them, aren't you? I saw you scuttling about the ship. You're with those tentacle-"

Astarion never finished the question. The worm inside his head squirmed, he saw flashes of a life that was not his own, busy market stalls, a voice raising above all others, claims of magic that could cure anything.

Confusing, unfamiliar sights being forced into his head, and as quick as it came, the visions went away.

"What was that? What have you done?" Astarion asked, his mind still reeling from the experience. The elf didn't seem to be faring much better, with the way they grimaced holding their head.

"That, I believe, is the little creature they shoved into our brains." The elf answered nonchalantly. "And I, for one, do not plan to keep it in there for long."

"The worm… of course." Of course it was the worm. Didn't it also allow Astarion to walk under the sun without burning to death? A psychic link to other worms was not that shocking of a revelation.

But if this was an illithid worm… that meant the freedom would be short lived. He would transform into those tentacle things, and who knows when that would happen.

Astarion suddenly felt like he was way over his head.

The elf introduced themself as Moss, just that, Moss, like the stuff you find clinging to wet rocks, a strange name for a strange elf. Immediately invited Astarion to be part of their troupe of adventurers, the fact that Astarion had tried to cut them open moments before seemed irrelevant. He only agreed because this seemed like his best shot at not having tentacles bursting from his head. A means to an end, someone to keep close to for just as long as they were useful.

Though Astarion questioned how useful they really were mere days after their meeting

Moss was… certainly unique. At times it seemed like this was their first time living the rough reality of adventuring, other times it was like they had a lot of experience traveling long periods of time. They complained about not having a real bed and regular baths and on the same tone complained how everyone else in their group had no energy to walk up and down the mountainous terrain of the Sword Coast for 12 hours everyday.

They were tall and lanky, clumsy with every step they took, always the last to react when they were attacked, and half the time, they seemed like they barely had control of the wild magic they wielded, and would surprise themself and everyone around them with the occasional bursts of magic exploding whenever they cast anything stronger than a cantrip.

A fool in elf form.

But there was something more to Moss, a certain cunning that wasn't very obvious when you first saw them, and a mean streak that was unexpected from someone who went around doing chores for everyone they met. It intrigued Astarion to no end. He saw it when they rescued Lae'zel from two trigger happy tieflings. From what Astarion glimpsed through his tadpole, Lae'zel and Moss had met before, and their intentions to each other seemed tentatively friendly.

The tieflings were no more than two scared refugees, and Astarion half expected Moss to talk them down and be boring about it, give some excuse or other to have the githyanki be their responsibility.

Moss interrupted the tieflings with a smile and a plan. "Bring the Githyanki down!" they said, "between us all, we can take her. C'mon, I'll help you!"

"Are you sure? We should just kill her inside the cage if that's the case."

"No, no, no, not at all. At least give her a fighting chance. It's only fair"

Moss' promises were convincing enough, and the tieflings reluctantly let Lae'zel down. She bristled like an angry cat at everyone and threatened to kill them all if Moss didn't join her.

"You should leave." Moss told the tieflings, their tone shifting from friendly to threatening in the snap of a finger "I'm sorry, but you see, she's my friend. Unfortunate, I know. But you can leave, and all is well. Go on, chop chop, goodbye."

"What?"

"Leave, I said."

"They are with the monster!"

What followed was a quick and brutal fight. Moss, once again, was the last to react, despite the fact that they were the one who provoked it, but the githyanki was strong and efficient, and between her and Astarion, the tieflings didn't stand a chance and they refused to back down.

Even with Shadowheart refusing to help, the tieflings were dead in a matter of minutes.

Astarion was impressed, despite himself. The nastiness of it all, the deceit. It was all very funny to him.

That night when they were back at camp, Astarion had quietly watched Shadowheart give Moss the cold shoulder as they flitted about between chatting excitedly at the new addition to their group, who seemed one wrong comment away from biting them, and catching up with the wizard they pulled out of a portal a couple of days before.

Eventually Moss made their way to Astarion. They always did, going around camp like clockwork, making sure to have a moment with everyone. Astarion suspected it was some desperate attempt to be liked by everyone. Pathetic, really, but something Astarion could use if it came to it.

After all, even if Moss's skills were dubious during fights, they still had a way of spinning their words and convincing people to do what they wanted. It could prove useful in the future.

Astarion smiled as soon as they approached, dialing up the charm and confidence like donning a well worn mask. "Hello darling! What can I do for you?"

Their responding smile was welcoming, warm, as if they were looking at a dear friend they had missed. Astarion didn't fool himself thinking this was reserved for him alone. It was just how Moss was with people, ridiculously friendly and overly familiar.

"Nothing, friend. Nothing at all. Just checking how you are faring, is all. You said you are a magistrate, didn't you? I know camp life must not be the most comfortable. I miss having a bed, I know that much.

Ah, Astarion almost forgot he had told Moss about being a magistrate. It felt almost like a lie, it was a life that hadn't been his for so long that the Astarion of that time might as well be another person. Camp life was infinitely more comfortable than the living situation Astarion was used to. The fact that he had his own bedroll, his own tent and a few items to call his own was a vast improvement, even if moving around everyday was kind of a hassle.

Moss didn't need to know that. "I've had better, but alas, it is not always that we get to be picky when there is a chance we might grow tentacles from our beautiful faces." Astarion said smoothly. Not a complaint, not a compliment, simply a neutral statement. "Now, there is something I'd like to comment on. Applaud you even, I was impressed with you today."

"Thank you, thank you! I try." They placed a hand over their chest and bowed slightly. It reminded Astarion of a performer thanking the public. After a moment they straightened up and tilted their head "What for?"

"The way you handled those tieflings, of course." Astarion said with a sharp smile "Oh, their faces when you turned on them. It was the funniest thing."

"Oh!" Moss said, a little surprised but then they started laughing, putting their hand over their mouth to stifle the giggling they could not hold back. "Right! It WAS funny. I thought that was the easiest way to get Lae'zel free. Shadowheart isn't very amused. Didn't talk to me all day." They shot her a pouty look, which went promptly ignored. "I say they should've backed down the moment they were outnumbered."

"Of course. That would be the wise thing to do."

"I told them to. Not my fault they were stubborn."

"I'm glad for it. It was fun! We should make fools out of people more often."

"Why! I think you may have a point. I'm sure we'll find other fools around the area."

Astarion was looking at one right now. But a fool they may be, at least they were not a boring one. Maybe sticking around wouldn't be so bad if he could have a little fun. Freedom tasted sweet, and Astarion wanted to seize it with both hands, he wanted to live, he wanted to choose what he wanted to do by himself, without anyone telling him how he should or should not act.

And for that he needed to make sure he would stay himself. He needed Moss on his side.