“Lae’zel.” Wyll calls apprheneisvely as the githyanki is meditating, thewhole camp tense as they had just escaped Creche Y’llek barely a day ago.
“What do you want, she’lak ?” Lae’zel growls, looking up and surprised to see the unhatched gith egg in his arms.
“I was hoping to get your advice. I think something might be wrong with the egg.”
“Fool, I am no ghustil nor a varsh .” Lae’zel snorts, looking at the egg with disdain. “Dispose of it, it is of no use to us.”
“You really feel no empathy, Lae’zel?” Wyll pouts, Shadowheart and Halsin suddenly joining in the little conversation.
“Is something wrong with the egg, Wyll?” the druid asks, his first time seeing it. “What a fascinating specimen. What laid it?”
“One of her.” Shadowheart points at Lae’zel, the usual bite missing from her tone. “They were going to cull it before Wyll convinced Hestra to intervene and now we’ve got it tagging along.”
“It is, uselessly, occupying our limited storage space. Be rid of the useless thing, you don’t even know the first thing about raising a yank .” the warrior scowls, annoyed her meditation ritual was now completely disturbed.
“The hell is a yank?” Wyll asks, not recognizing the term.
“It’s the Tir term for ‘child’.” Lae’zel rolls her eyes, adjusting herself so she was sitting cross-legged instead of on her knees.
“What’s going on here?” Hestra pipes up as she approaches, having grown concerned about the small group gathered in front of Lae’zel’s tent, given recent events.
“Wyll was asking Lae’zel about the egg but she doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of it.” Shadowheart shrugs.
“Is something wrong?” The tiefling bard asks, tilting her head slightly with concern as her attention turned to the egg cradled in Wyll’s arms.
“I’m not sure.” Wyll shrugs, looking down at the gith egg worriedly. “Something just felt off but…”
“This was your idea, Wyll.” The tiefling reminds him, arms crossed. “You wanted to rescue that egg.”
‘I know! It was cruel to just leave it to be destroyed or worse, abandoned after the havoc we caused in the creche.” He says, scowling. “Rescuing it was the right thing, Hestra.”
“Not saying what you did was wrong but you’re just now realizing the consequences.” She wags her finger at him, then holds her arms out. “Give me the damn thing.”
“Do you know something about gith eggs?” Halsin asks with curiosity.
“What?” Hestra gives him a bewildered look. “Of course not.”
“Have you had children before?” The question comes from Halsin again.
“No. I’m incapable of breeding.” Hestra snorts. “I was partially raised in a community that… looked after dragon eggs, if you care to believe me. I have some basic understanding of being an eggtender.”
Wyll, skeptically, passes the egg into Hestra’s arms. Lae’zel watches as the tiefling carefully adjusts her hold, cradling the large object with a surprising amount of tenderness. They all watch as the tiefling caresses the shell’s surface.
“Huh… it’s soft. Like leather.” Hestra murmurs, surprised by the observation. “The shell is drying out.” She passes the egg back to Wyll, then heads back to the center of camp and digs through her pack until she pulls out one of her spare tunics.
“What are you doing?” Shadowheart asks as they watch her rip the tunic apart.
“The egg needs to be soaked or the shell is going to crack.” Hestra retorted as she shoves the cloth into Shadowheart’s hand. “Could you use Create Water and soak that in water for me?”
Shadowheart thinks to protest but is curious to see where this goes and does as asked; using the mentioned spell to soak the torn tunic and handing it back to Hestra. The tiefling didn’t seem to care that it was soaking through her bloodied armor but she gestured for Wyll to pass the gith egg back to her. She carefully swaddled the egg in the soaked cloth, then set it on the ground before digging back through her pack and pulling a length of rope. The party, including Lae’zel, was watching with utter fascination as their leader used a length of rope to tie together a sling for the egg. Carefully, Hestra slips the egg into the sling, then removes her shield and carries the egg on her back, shield covering it carefully.
“Let’s keep moving. We need more favorable ground before any githyanki catch up with us… or whatever lives down here.” the tiefling says.
Through their stay in the Underdark, Lae’zel watches how the tiefling cares for the egg. When they travel, she keeps the egg either slung on her back, hidden under her shield or across her chest, like a mother carrying a babe. The githyanki fighter found the behavior peculiar, as did most of the party but no one dared comment on it.
Until one day they were sat around the camp, Lae’zel still unsure of the conversation they had about their flesh bond… about it being more. Hestra was sitting by the fire, the gith egg cradled in her lap as she was running one of her hands over the surface, a demure smile on her lips, tail coiling with content pleasure (Karlach had been teaching the githyanki how to translate the movements of tiefling tails to discern emotions).
“How’s the little guy?” Karlach asks, pointing at the egg.
“Doing well, I think.” Hestra traces a mark she had found along the leathery, semi-transparent shell. “The water is helping but that varsh was right. This child will be small, weak… a runt.”
“That doesn’t mean it should be condemned to death!” Wyll protests. “I do not regret saving it.”
“Wyll, we can’t raise it.” Shadowheart retorts. “We’ve all got tadpoles and now have to fight gods and an Elder Brain, remember?”
“Besides, none of us are parent material,” Astarion said. “Well, perhaps our eggtending bard here. You’re quite knowledgeable about such things. You even sleep with the damn thing.”
“It’s an egg, you idiot.” Hestra growls, coiling her tail around it protectively. “It needs constant supervision.”
“She is correct in that matter.” Lae’zel adds, making a dismissive gesture. “Without a varsh the egg would certainly perish. The bard serves as an adequate substitute, as you did wish to save the child Wyll.”
“You seem to know alot about raising eggs.” Karlach points out, brow lifted suggestively.
“I don’t really know that much.” Hestra shrugs. “It’s instinct and just using what little I remember from my days as a child and what I managed to observe at the creche.”
“What, were you raised by birds?” Astarion chuckles.
“Dragons, actually.” Hestra runs her hand over the exposed surface of the egg thoughtfully. “My father abandoned me to an elven sanctuary, guarded by dragons. No one wanted me because I’m a devil spawn but the dragon matriarch… she gave me a chance.”
The fire crackled loudly as the party was silent, realizing they had touched upon a very private and tender moment for their leader. Lae’zel noticed the tiefling’s tail was twitching thoughtfully, the tip curled slightly with a subtle sign of anxiety. Hestra glanced up and sighed.
“I would, often, sleep in the nest the broodmother tended, surrounded by dragon eggs. They’re far bigger than this guy here but some principles appear to be shared. They were my family, even if I didn’t get to see any of them hatch before I was forced to live with my mother.”
“What kind of dragons did you live with?” Halsin asks.
“I cannot tell you, as I am sworn to guard the clan and the sanctuary with my life.” Hestra retorts. “Even mentioning it was dangerous but sometimes truth is far stranger than any fiction I can conjure. Besides, I trust you would not seek ill will of my home and even if you did… well, I’m confident you would all be destroyed upon reaching the gates.”
“Something you’re willing to die for?” Shadowheart says with mild awe. “Shocking.”
“Just as you owe Shar your life, I owe them mine.” The tiefling retorts, stifling a yawn. “We need to rest.”
With the conversation over, they all depart to bed. Lae’zel lingers by the fire, noticing the bard had fallen asleep rather quickly. She was slumped against the rock, the egg nestled in her crossed legs. The githyanki scowls and stands up, walking over to shake the bard awake. The woman startles but moves herself in a way to shield the egg.
“W-what?”
“You should not sleep like that.” Lae’zel tells her firmly, then points to her bedroll.
“Fair point, Lae’zel.” Hestra yawns, then carefully scoops up the egg and moves herself to her bed roll, laying on her side and coiling her body so the gith egg lays nestled against her stomach, legs shielding one side while her arms and torso provided the rest of the barrier. Her tail draped over her hip to coil around the egg possessively.
“Why?” Lae’zel asks as she crouches in front of the tiefling, glancing at the egg.
“Why what, Lae’zel?” Hestra retorts back, voice heavy with exhaustion.
“Care for this yank, this outcast?” The githyanki huffs, gesturing at the egg.
“Ah. Perhaps because I understand what it’s like… to be unwanted. Unredeemable.” the tiefling says with obvious sorrow in her eyes, gently stroking the back of her hand against the surface of the egg.
A long silence permeates them, Lae’zel watching the tiefling as she carefully curls her body further around the egg. She notices movement under the semi-transparent soft shell, the egg rocking as if to be closer. She blinked, surprised by what she had just witnessed as it was so foreign to everything she had known. Hells, Lae’zel was still wrapping her head around being declared hshar’lak .
“You were… unwanted?” Lae’zel asks, surprised by the admission.
“I’m a tiefling, Lae’zel. We are an unwanted species.” Hestra smirks sardonically. “Yet, I was given a fleeting chance. I should extend the same to this little one here. Do something… noble for once in my life.”
“Shadowheart is right. We cannot raise it.” Lae’zel sits down as she says this, her curiosity piqued further.
“I’m working on that. We have to get back to the surface of Toril first.” Hestra yawns, rubbing at her eyes.
“You are an adequate varsh … mother.” The githyanki compliments her, feeling a strange pulse in her chest and twist in her guts. “Do you hope to have young of your own?”
“I’m incapable of it so…” Hestra paues, her gaze flitting to the egg. “I don’t know. Maybe? Besides, even if I wanted to, no man or woman would want kids with a tiefling bard. My profession has a bit of a reputation for being horny deadbeats after all.”
“Hmmm. Curious.” was all Lae’zel says.
“What about you? Did you ever think you’d bear young for Vlaakith?” Hestra asks lazily, her eyes half closed.
“I had no aspirations to be shu’kyani .” Lae’zel scowls. “But now with my future uncertain, I will have to consider what to do now.”
No answer but a light snore as Hestra falls asleep, an arm gently wrapped around the gith egg. Lae’zel co*cked her head to the side as she observed her former lover in such a… strange behavior. A curious thought coming to mind, she reached out and touched the egg and rocked it gently. The tiefling’s whole body immediately coiled around the gith egg protectively, a soft growl emanating from the woman’s throat. Lae’zel raised a brow, pulling away and watching. When the egg settled, the tiefling relaxed. Through the translucent shell, Lae’zel noticed the young seemed to be leaning towards the tiefling and she realized she could hear the soft thrum of music from Hestra’s chest.
Lae’zel thought more about what she had said the other night, how Karlach had tried to explain that the bard was in love with her.
Maybe there was something to this ‘love’ that had been omitted from the slates.
