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Astarion wants to leave the house, just to distract himself a bit.
Just to take a break.
A cry of pain pierces the air.
The vampire starts moving objects in the room mindlessly. He hates dissociating but at this moment he misses this feeling of not being present in the moment.
It's been years since he felt so useless, so doomed. And so scared.
Another cry, louder than the previous one, and Astarion clenches his fists as if being ready to attack an invisible enemy.
He and Tiriel have been through a lot. He has seen her in blood and pain many times - his fierce warrior-wife who wields a two-handed axe with the same elegance he uses daggers is unstoppable and unbreakable.
But this… this is different.
"I - I can't!", he hears Tiriel. "It hurts!"
Whatever she wants to say next, drowns in yet another cry.
Astarion casts a glance outside. The sun is still shining so he is locked inside the house. Helpless and useless while Tiriel is suffering in agonizing pain only with a midwife to be by her side.
...He had no idea it was possible. He is an undead. Undead men don't impregnate mortal women. Besides, it had been twenty years since they met. If it had been possible to conceive a child, it would have happened a long time ago.
But –
One day her blood just tasted different. And Tiriel was so tired she couldn’t lift her weapon on their back home from the wilderness. She was claiming everything was all right and he had to drag her to the town’s healer.
She came back much sooner than he expected, and he immediately sensed something was utterly wrong. Tiriel sat in front of him in the chair, eyes firmly fixed on her hands.
"My sweet, what did he say?" Astarion asked. By this moment he started feeling a wave of his own panic. Tiriel is mortal. She is a warrior, yes, but she isn’t immune to curses and, after all, death. And besides he had never seen her like that.
"Astarion, tell me one thing. Have you heard about children born from vampires?"
"Yes, I have. Dhampirs. It’s like being a vampire without downsides,"he got so carried away that he basically gave a lecture to Tiriel, and then stumbled. "Why do you ask?"
And then she put her hand on her belly.
“He told me I am pregnant.”
… The next months were intense. Sometimes everything was good. They could even sit and talk about the future – sure, the child was going to be an elf with just a bit of human ancestry on Tiriel’s side.
But more often than that they both were scared. Tiriel had insane mood swings and she would burst into tears after some innocent mockery from him. He had nightmares and panic attacks. Everything he thought had gone for good returned the instant he’d learned about pregnancy.
And Tiriel… Well, the thing is women die at childbirth even if the child is mortal. Even if before the woman has challenged the gods.
Cries from upstairs are unbearable to hear. Astarion wants to be there with Tiriel and, at the same time, he wants to be miles away. And it’s all his fault.
If she dies, it will be his fault.
Fuck it.
Astarion goes up and with a bit of hesitation pushes the door. The smell of familiar blood makes his head spin.
“Go away, idiot! I told you not to come here!” the midwife curses. “There is too much blood!”
“No, please!” Tiriel begs, reaching out for him, “Don’t go!”
Astarion kneels beside her and squeezes her hand. “I am not going anywhere, my sweet.”
What if something is wrong? What if the child is some monster, not even resembling a sentient being? What if…
And suddenly Tiriel goes silent.
A squeal, full of fury and distress, pierces the room.
“Well, this one looks like a healthy girl”, the midwife places the baby in Tiriel's arms.
The tiny Elven baby with long pointy ears stops crying, feeling her mother’s skin against hers.
Astarion stares at the child in shock.
“Didn’t really take after me, did you?” Tiriel adjusts herself a bit in the bed. “My lovely beautiful girl”, she presses a kiss against the baby’s forehead, “Look at her ears, they are like yours!”
Astarion can’t take his eye off them. His child. His and Tiriel’s. His daughter. Not a monster – just a baby.
The long pointy ears twitch, and Tiriel starts caressing them.
“Tiriel… My love…”, he finally manages to speak again, “Her ears are very sensitive, don’t touch them too much”.
“Oh, I am sorry”, Tiriel stops. “But they are so cute!”
“They are.”
Astarion can’t decipher what exactly he feels. All these months the child was just an idea, something he couldn’t feel attachment to. But now that the baby is born, the realization that nothing will be the same hits him. That his life has just changed forever.
And this is good. The worst thing that was happening to him all the centuries of enslavement was the understanding that nothing would ever change. Nothing would get better or worse because everything would stay the same. And now, it’s something new. Something natural. Something he thought was available only for normal people, not someone so twisted and ruined like him.
Tyrael touches his arm softly.
“Hold her.”
“What?! No! I am not…”
“It’s your child, Astarion”
Astarion stands up and recoils. “Tiriel, I will hurt her! Look at her, she is small! I will… I will do something to her!”
It seems like his voice scares the newborn and she starts crying again.
“Sit with me”, Tiriel asks. “Please”
Astarion hesitates but obliges. Before he says anything, the little bundle is already placed in his pale arms.
He freezes. The girl cries even louder demanding to be returned to her mother. Astarion touches her forehead with his fingers – the skin feels delicate like silk”
“Ai armiel telere maenen hir, salen damia”, he whispers in Elven.
And the girl stops crying. She looks at him with her dark eyes and suddenly smiles. The newborn stretches her tiny arms as if trying to reach out for his face.
And Astarion bursts into tears. Sobbing, he cradles the baby in his arms, hearing the fast heartbeat within her delicate rib cage.
It’s his daughter. His treasure. The reward for everything he’s been through. The sign that he has been doing the right things all these years.
Tiriel puts her chin on his shoulder and wraps her hands around his waist.
“Thank you, my love”, Astarion says to her. “This is a gift.”
They sit like that for what feels like an eternity. Finally, Tiriel breaks the silence.
“She needs a name.”
Astarion studies the girl’s face as if looking for a hint. Then, the name comes to his mind, though he doesn't know where he could have heard it.
“Alethaine. My love, can we call her Alethaine?”
Tirielnods. “It’s not like I have any other suggestions. I was scared to death the whole time. It’s beautiful. Let’s call her that”.
It’s already night when the midwife leaves the house. Astarion helps Tiriel to get to the bed with clean sheets and then brings her sleeping Alethaine.
Astarion watches how Tiriel pulls the collar of her shirt freeing swollen breasts and then places the girl that way so her mouth in front of the nipple. The girl makes sucking movements and her ears twitch simultaneously.
Tiriel starts humming – and Astarion recognizes a human lullaby he’s heard from Tiriel maybe only once or twice.
He carefully puts his head on Tiriel’s lap so he can see both his wife and daughter.
“How are you feeling?” he finally asks.
“Tired. Happy. And you?”
Astarion chuckles. “You pushed a whole Elven baby out of your body and wonder how I am feeling?”
“Actually, yes”
“I feel … alive.”
Tyrael reaches to his silver curls and strokes the hair with her free hand.
“Thank you for giving her to me”, she whispers.