like a bird, like a stone (смешанная)

The morning after they kill the netherbrain, Tav can’t get out of bed. He tries. He really does try. He wakes up in his bed at the Elfsong (miraculously intact, by the grace of whatever deities don’t yet hate them), and for a long moment in his murky half-conscious state, he can’t remember who he’s supposed to be. Just the faint sense that he’s supposed to be doing something. And then he remembers yesterday’s battle (fire and blood and a long fall), and he remembers his name. And he stares at the dark wood ceiling, and thinks about all the steps involved in getting up.
The idea of it makes him very tired, and he realizes: there’s no reason for Tav to get out of bed right now. There’s no oversized brains to kill, no illithids to murder, no one who needs him to save their kid or find their dog. They saved Baldur’s Gate yesterday, and there’s no more tadpole in their heads.
(or: come closer. this is a regular h/c tav/astarion postcanon story for regular people. haha, jk, unless.)