Title: Seasons Change (But People Don't)
Fandom: Critical Role / Mass Effect
Rating:  G
Length: 459
Content notes: No warnings apply
Author notes: Also for monthlysupergo's February madlibs prompt: Grunt & Keyleth with the title "Seasons Change"
Summary: Keyleth looks up towards him, with that confused expression she wears so often when he asks her something. But it quickly turns into a kind smile.


"Why do you keep doing that?"

Keyleth looks up towards him, with that confused expression she wears so often when he asks her something. But it quickly turns into a kind smile.

"Why do I keep doing what, exactly?"

"Well, that." Grunt nods towards her hands; her fingers were working on something for the entirety of the evening, and he would be damned if he wouldn't get it out of her now.

"Oh." She uncrosses her legs, but her fingers don't stop fidgeting. "That's, uhm. Habit, I suppose? From when I was younger..." She opens her hands, revealing a small, druid-crafted flower in her palm. Its soft, pale green petals contrasted strongly with the slowly dying leaves of the autumn trees, covering patches of the ground around their camp.

With a shy smile, she looks up to him. "My father has taught me this. It helps to calm my nerves, and... In times like these, I really need this."

"This explanation is as good as any." He settles down beside her, facing the low-burning flames. "Why don't you go and try to sleep? Your shift is over."

But she doesn't answer, nor does she attempt to get up, to return to her tent. She keeps sitting by his side, silent but for the ruffle of the leaves she creates between her hands. When she speaks again, her voice is as fragile and weak as the little birds she likes to save.

"I- I just don't want to go to sleep yet, Grunt."

He waits, patiently, for her to continue. And she does, shortly after.

"With everything that's happening right now, all the hardships that are thrown our way I- well. It's so clear, even when I close my eyes. Especially when I close my eyes and... What if we don't make it? What if we won't come back this time? It's not like the thing with Pike hasn't been close. We won't be this lucky all the time, will we?"

"I don't think much about it." He really doesn't. It's not his place to question his purpose, never has been.

She doesn't answer. Her gaze is still fixed on the flames, and she interrupts building her flowers only to occaisonally throw a gust at the fire, reigniting it.

They stay silent, and Grunt can't help but enjoy it; it feels almost comfortable. Companionable, even. They stay like this, until a thin streak of light at the horizon announces the dawn of a new day.

"Your father, huh?"

She shrugs, again, watching another crisp, dead leaf drop from a branch and gently falling to the ground. Then, she looks at the flower, that had grown in size and color during their watch.

"Yeah. Seasons change, I guess, but people don't."