A fleeting thought crossed Sebastian's mind as he watched the older orc gesturing emphatically, how easy it would be to cross the distance between them, to take Thornmaker's head before the warrior even registered his approach. The thought was mechanical, almost reflexive, a product of centuries of training rather than genuine intent. Besides, Sebastian reflected with mild surprise, Boarstaff wouldn't approve.
The realization that Boarstaff's opinion had become a consideration in his thoughts was unexpected. When had that happened? When had another's approval or disapproval begunto factor into his calculations? It was inefficient, from a purely tactical perspective. Yet Sebastian found he didn't mind this particular inefficiency.
"You're missing the feast."
Sebastian looked up to find Boarstaff standing before him, a wooden plate laden with food in one hand. The warchief's expression was difficult to read in the flickering firelight, but his posture lacked the tension that had characterized him during the council meeting.
Behind him Sarah grinned. "You should come join us, Sebastian. Please?"
He looked to her, then back at Boarstaff. "I'm observing it," he corrected mildly. "Different experience."
Sarah pouted, but a quiet word from Boarstaff sent her back to where the children were eating.
"She wanted to come see you, to make sure that you were okay." Boarstaff settled beside him, his broad shoulder nearly touching Sebastian's as he began eating from the plate. "You don't need to isolate yourself."
Sebastian's lips quirked slightly. "Concerned about my integration?"
"Concerned about your isolation," Boarstaff countered, his voice low enough that only Sebastian could hear. "The village is beginning to accept you. The desert clan seems cautiously open to your presence. Even the dwarves are more curious than hostile."
"And yet I remain here," Sebastian observed. "Apart."
"By choice," Boarstaff pointed out, taking another bite. "No one has asked you to remain at the edges."
Sebastian watched him eat, a habit he still found strangely fascinating since his transformation. "Old habits," he said after a moment. "Observe before engaging. Assess before acting."
"Vampire training?"
"Survival," Sebastian corrected.
Boarstaff studied him, clearly wanting to ask more but respecting the boundary Sebastian's tone had established. Instead, he nodded toward the gathering. "What do you see, with those observant eyes of yours?"
Sebastian followed his gaze, taking in the complex social dynamics playing out across the clearing. "Alliances forming," he said. "The desert warriors respect your fighters, but they're more impressed by the dwarves' weaponry. The dwarven craftsmen are fascinated by the desert clan's horses, probably calculating how to adjust their armor designs." His eyes tracked particular movements. "Thornmaker has found common ground with their war-leader… probably comparing kills."
"And?" Boarstaff prompted, sensing there was more.
"And they're all acutely aware of time," Sebastian finished quietly. "They know Cornelius is coming. They know many won't survive what follows."
Silence settled between them as they watched the gathering together. Despite the weight of Sebastian's observation, the feast continued with determined good spirits, perhaps even because of that awareness of limited time.
"I'm surprised Khalida hasn't sought you out again," Boarstaff commented eventually. "She seemed intrigued by you."
Sebastian's lips curved into a subtle smirk. "Is that jealousy in your voice, Warchief? Afraid I'll leave you for a woman with a beautiful horse and run off to the desert?"
Boarstaff nearly choked on his food, caught between surprise and amusement. "I'm merely assessing tactical alliances," he replied, though color had risen to his cheeks.
"She's gauging reactions." Sebastian took pity on him. "Watching how others respond to my presence before committing to further interaction. Sensible strategy."
"Is that what you're doing as well?" Boarstaff asked, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Waiting to see how the village responds before committing further?"
"Of course," Sebastian agreed, his tone deliberately light. "Purely tactical considerations." After a moment, his expression grew more serious. "I've already committed, Boarstaff. I murdered my brothers. I've chosen to stand against my father. There's no path back from those decisions, even if I wanted one." He paused, then added more softly, "Which I don't."
Boarstaff held his gaze, searching for something in Sebastian's expression. Whatever he found seemed to satisfy him, as some of the tension left his shoulders.
"You represent something unique here," he said, gesturing toward the gathering. "Four cultures, four different approaches to survival. Yet somehow we're all here, planning together."
Sebastian followed his gaze. "Necessity makes for unusual alliances."
"Is that all this is to you? Necessity?" Boarstaff asked quietly. After a moment, he rose to his feet and extended a hand. "Come join the feast. Not as an observer. As a participant."
