Chapter Text
Astarion parts your legs with his knee and lowers his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. Your hand sweeps gently up the creamy skin of his side, and you revel in its familiar chill. The tips of your fingers gently brush the edges of the raised scars on his back.
Astarion stills under your touch at once, his muscles going taught as he clenches his jaw.
Fuck.
You pull back to look at him. His eyes are squeezed tightly closed, and his brows knit together in a pained grimace.
“Astarion?”
He sighs, “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Too much for today?”
“Yes,” he whispers as shifts from his position between your thighs, sitting upright on the bed.
He runs his fingers through the silvery curls of his hair, frustrated. It breaks your heart every time seeing him like this.
“Hey, look at me.”
He glances back at you. Despair swirls in his crimson eyes, and his mouth set in a hard line
“It’s okay.”
He shakes his head. His voice shakes with frustration, “But I want this, want you, all of you.”
You sit up and position yourself beside him but take care not to touch him.
“I know. Sometimes what we want doesn’t always align with what we need.”
He groans with a small smile tugging at his lips, “Stop being so nice to me."
You giggle, “Why? Because it makes you want to be nice back?”
He smirks at the shared memory, “Precisely, my dear.”
His arm wraps around you, pulling you close up against him.
Laying your head on his shoulder, you take a deep breath and let your eyes drift closed, enjoying the intimacy.
This was an ongoing battle that you doubted would be won anytime soon if it ever could be. Astarion’s trauma still hooked its greedy claws into him. He would often initiate but would freeze up under your touch before you could make love.
“I could try…” he trails off.
You know what he’s going to offer. He always did.
“No, you beautiful, beautiful fool. That’s enough for today, but I will accept cuddles… if you’re up for it.”
He chuckles and lays back, resting his head on the feather pillow.
“Come here, darling.”
You cuddle up beside him, laying your head gently in the crook of his arm. He plants a soft kiss on your forehead.
When you look up at him, he looks a million miles away, staring at the ceiling blankly, losing himself in his thoughts.
You feel an odd unease tighten in your stomach. This happens regularly. Usually, your supportive words are enough to bring him back, but this time feels different somehow.
He breaks the silence with a desolate whisper, “Do you think I will ever get better?”
His desolate tone is heart-wrenching. You’ve got the feeling that he believes he may be irreparably broken from discussions you and him have had.
You plant a light kiss on his chest. Propping yourself up on your arm, you reach and cradle his face in your palm. His eyes drift from the ceiling down to you.
“You’re not broken, Astarion. We will get through this. Give it time.”
He nuzzles his face into you, seeking the comfort of your touch.
“I have an eternity, but your time is finite.”
You scoff at him. You’re a High Elf, just like him, and although 750 years may not be infinite like his, you have centuries to either find a cure for him or extend your life further. He’s well aware of this, but lately, he has been overly focused on the fact that you will die eventually.
“Exactly how old do you presume me to be, Astarion?”
It dawns on you that he never actually asked how old you were. For all he knew, half of your life was already over.
“Last time I checked, it was considered impolite to ask a lady her age.”
You can’t help yourself, and you burst out laughing. After all the things you two had been through together, and he thinks asking your age is going to, what, offend you?
Ridiculous man.
The expression on his face is a mixture of shock and puzzlement. His eyebrow is cocked up, and he stares at you quizzically.
“What’s so funny?”
You smirk, “My love, we have enraged and killed Gods, fought countless fiends, demons and devils, and felled a Netherbrain together, and you worry that you, my partner, my soul mate, my everything, asking my age is impolite ?”
He grins, “Well… when you put it like that, I suppose it does seem a little ridiculous.”
“I have many centuries ahead of me, and I will spend them all with you, I hope.”
Astarion smiles, but there is something hidden in that smile, and it brings back the uneasy feeling you felt before. You can't quite place what it is.
Astarion grabs your hands and holds them, his thumbs caressing them comfortingly.
“I love you, and I will love you forever. You know that, right?”
There’s an odd urgency straining his voice as if he needs to know that you know this. That uneasy feeling blooms into pure anxiety at the urgency in his voice, the look in his eyes and even the smile on his face. Something feels wrong.
“Tell me what’s going on, Astarion. You’re starting to scare me.”
“Don’t be scared, my sweet. I just want you to know that I love you, now and forevermore.”
Your heart races inside your chest. Your stomach is in knots. Your whole body is screaming at you that something isn’t right.
You look at him and search his face for any signs that something is amiss, but you can’t see anything. He looks relaxed, if a little sad, but that isn’t unusual after he couldn’t perform.
“Shhhh, my love.” he purrs, “everything is fine.”
He rubs your back and kisses your shoulder softly, trying to comfort you. You lean into him.
“Astarion…”
“It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” he says in a low whisper close to your ear.
“Come, my love. Let’s lay down for a while until night falls. Once you fall asleep, I’ll slip out to go hunting.”
You lay back down with him, putting your head on his chest.
For some strange reason, be it due to your anxiety or his strange behaviour, you desperately don’t want him to go hunting, not tonight.
“You could feed on me tonight if you want?”
“As tempting an offer as that is, there is no need. There are plenty of animals in the forest.”
“I know, but you still could.”
You don’t even know why you’re pushing this so hard, but something deep down in you is frantic to keep him close.
“Not tonight, darling.”
He uses the same tone he used with that vile blood merchant at Moonrise, and you know better than to push it any further.
You try to relax back into him, but your body is buzzing with an anxiety you have not felt in some time. If only you could place it…
Astarion starts to hum your favourite tune low in his throat as he always did when you were feeling anxious while rubbing your arm with his fingers.
You slowly drift into a troubled trance.
When you wake up the next morning, Astarion is nowhere to be found. You had felt him leave to go hunting, but he never returned.
Did he get caught by someone or something? Did the sunrise take him by surprise, and he found someplace to wait it out?
He is always home well before the sun starts to creep over the horizon
This was entirely unusual. He always returned and crawled back into bed with you.
Leaping out of bed, you throw your robe on and glance out the door. The day is cloudy and cool, and you can smell the rain. In a frantic rush, you throw your boots on and start toward the forest you know he goes hunting in most.
You wander the forest, calling out to him, but there are no traces of him. No dead carrion, no footprints, no signs of a struggle - just nothing. Your heart is hammering in your tightening chest, and you search frantically for anything that could lead you to him.
You spend the entire day wandering the forests. Even when the rain starts to pour down on you, leaving you soaked and freezing, you endure.
The darkness of night envelops the land, and you return home utterly exhausted, hoping to find him there safe and sound.
You open the door, and the little house is as dark, quiet and as empty as you left it.
You start a fire in the large stone fireplace and stand there to warm your frozen body.
Where could he have gone? Why did he go? What did I do?
You look around the little place you had shared with him for over a year.
It looks so empty without him…
A yellow-tinged envelope catches your eye, sitting on your bedside table. You must have missed it in your rush to go find him this morning.
Picking it up, a sense of dread fills you. It smells of rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. Your hands shake as they open the letter, and you slip out the neatly folded piece of paper.
Placing the envelope down, you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the folded letter. You pray that this isn’t what you think it is, but a part of you knows it’s precisely what you fear.
Your trembling hands have trouble unfolding the parchment. It’s written in a beautiful hand.
“Dearest Love,
My only one, I’m sorry it had to be this way. I knew I would never have the strength to say goodbye to you in person, to look into your eyes and see the hurt I’d caused. I am a coward, as I always have been.
I believe being with me is holding you back from the beautiful life and love you deserve; one I am unable to provide for you.
I love you too much to keep dragging you down into the dark.
I hope you can forgive me one day.
You made my dead heart beat anew. I could never forget you.
I love you now and forevermore.
Love always,
Astarion."
Tears slide down your reddened face and drip onto the parchment in your hand. Once you’re finished reading it, it slips from your fingers and floats to the floor.
He left me…
You curl up on the bed you had shared with him for years, breathing the scent of him that lingered on the sheets. Violent sobs wrack your body as your heart is torn asunder.
How could he do this…
You cry until your body can’t produce any more tears, and you finally drift into a grief-stricken sleep.
In the morning, you look around the little house you shared with him and realize that he had taken some of his belongings but not all of them.
How long had he been playing this?
Your once cozy home now feels cold, empty and claustrophobic. The walls feel like they are closing in on you.
What am I going to do?
You stay in that little house for a couple of weeks, hoping Astarion will change his mind and come back to you.
A useless fantasy.
He never returns, but you never expected him to.
You had spent every night over the last several weeks wandering the forest surrounding the area, checking his favourite hunting spots.
In the city, you had tried searching for him in the taverns, the hostels, the flophouses, everywhere you could think of. You even followed the roads until sunrise, hoping you might bump into him.
In truth, you knew that you would never find him if he didn’t want you to, but you had to try at least.
You spend the next years searching for him in every place you can think of.
You search Baldur’s Gate and all his regular haunts.
You go back to the Underdark to see if he went there. He had talked about helping the other spawn at one point, but his siblings tell you they haven’t seen him. You even use Detect Thoughts covertly to see if they are lying to you, just in case.
You return to the Grove even though you know it’s a long shot. He wasn’t ever fond of that place.
You even search old camping spots he was particularly fond of. You doubted he would return to sleeping on the ground, but you tried anyway.
You find nothing, of course. It was as if he just disappeared from existence entirely.
Eventually, all hope fades away, and you are forced to face the fact that he’s gone and he’s not coming back.
Not knowing where else to turn, you decide to go to Waterdeep, where Gale has kindly offered that you stay with him for as long as you need to.
You start a new life there, as best you can.
Months Later
“Good morning! Can I offer you some tea?”
Gale’s overly chipper tone in the morning makes you cringe inwardly.
How could someone be this happy in the morning?
“Yes, please."
You rub your tired eyes, yawning.
“Splendid!”
Gale places a steaming mug of herbal tea on the table, and you take it in your hands, enjoying the warmth.
“You look tired, my friend. Are nightmares still troubling you?”
Your rest is plagued by constant, unforgiving nightmares that often wake you up screaming into the dead of night.
“I’m fine. If I keep you up at night, I could move to a room further away?”
Gale’s manor was grand, of course. It had more rooms than you cared to count and all the luxuries you could ever want. Despite that, this never felt like home, even after all this time.
“There’s no need. I’m usually awake, nose buried in a good book. At least it is nothing like Wyll’s snoring. Gods.”
You both laugh at that. Wyll had snored so loud some nights that you were worried Astarion would kill him just for some peace and quiet.
“So, what’s on the docket for today?”
“Oh, I’m going to go out into the city to meet some friends.”
“That sounds like a lovely idea! I’m glad you’re making friends. I’d love to meet them.” Gale grins happily.
“Of course, um, one day, okay?”
“I can host a grand dinner and make them my signature dish!”
You almost choke on your tea. Gale tried, but most of his cooking was… lacklustre.
“I better go get ready then. Thank you for the tea."
Returning to your room, you slip into a clean robe and pull on your boots before heading down the long, winding staircase.
Gale is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, “will you be home in time for dinner?”
“Oh, no, probably not. Don’t wait for me.”
“Be careful out there at night, this isn’t Baldur’s Gate, but it’s not exactly safe either,” he warns with a worried look.
You want to roll your eyes at him but stop yourself. Did he think you couldn’t take care of yourself? You had spent years roaming Faerûn looking for Astarion by yourself and only returned with a handful of new scars.
Well, ones he can see anyway.
“I’ll be careful, Gale. Thank you.”
With that, you slip out of the door into the air, chilled by the breeze coming off the sea. It was truly beautiful here… if only you could appreciate it.
You walk briskly through the busy city streets, wanting to leave them behind you as quickly as possible. Waterdeep was a busy city, and people already packed the thoroughfare going about their days.
You had spent so much time by yourself during your years searching for Astation that you had become accustomed to being alone. You were still trying to acclimatize to city life again.
Stopping at a small tavern, you buy yourself some wine.
Probably not the healthiest way to deal with my issues...
Near the outskirts of the city, you see the familiar little path that you walk almost every day. It took you to a beautiful lookout point that no one seemed to visit. It was your favourite place to be alone.
The wealthy of this city don’t want to ruin their fine boots, I suppose.
You sit on the edge of the cliff face, letting your legs hang over precariously.
What am I going to do about Gale wanting to meet these “friends” of mine.
Truthfully, you’d made up these “friends” so you could get some time alone. Gale was your friend, and you enjoyed his company, but he could be overattentive at times.
The silence up here was as beautiful as the views. The noises of the city were left behind, and only the soft winds blowing through the trees could be heard.
You uncork one of the bottles and drink straight from it. You had no; how did Gale put it - ah yes, decorum.
You spend the entire day sitting up there, drowning your heartache in the only elixir that could lessen the pain in your chest and numb the void in your soul.
I can’t believe it’s been years.
You often think about the time you spent together, replaying it over and over, analyzing every interaction, every word, every touch.
What did I do wrong? Was it something I said? Something I did? Something I didn’t do? Something I didn’t say?
Tears fall from your eyes at the memories, and you wipe them away with the back of your hand.
I thought we were happy.
You watch the light of day slowly fade as the sun drops below the horizon, blanketing the city in the dullness of night.
I guess I should go back.
You stumble your way down the steep path.
Perhaps I had too much today.
Reaching the city, you walk through the now slightly less busy streets. Much of the throngs of people have retired to their homes or, more likely, the taverns of the city. You hear vivacious laughter from some of the taphouses, signalling the end of another day
A light breeze stirs, and you faintly catch the scent of rosemary and bergamot. Even in the wine’s blissfully numbing embrace, your heart clenches and leaps in your chest.
You look around in every direction, but no one and nothing stands out.
You sigh, chiding your heart, telling it to stop flip-flopping around in your chest.
It isn’t him. It will never be him again.
You continue walking, but every time the breeze stirs, that smell of rosemary and bergamot drifts with it.
Great, now the very Gods themselves are fucking with me.
You can’t help but stop to look around again. You make sure to pay extra attention to dark corners and alleys, but you see nothing out of the ordinary.
Or perhaps, I’m just going crazy.
You shake your head and laugh at yourself for being so foolish, but another tear escapes your eye and glides slowly down your cheek.
Rounding a corner into a dimly lit corridor, you come face to face with a group of people looking particularly dishevelled. Their eyes slither over you repulsively.
“Well, well, what do we have here? A little lady, all lost and alone?”
Excellent. This is just what I need today - a mugging.
“Don’t be scared; no one has to get hurt here. Just give us your coin, and we will be on our way. Won’t we, lads?”
Foul, yellow-stained toothy grins split across the faces of the others malevolently.
They each draw small blades, so small you would hardly call them daggers. You very nearly laugh at their pathetic excuse for weapons.
The citizens of Waterdeep must be easy to scare; fortunately, I am not.
Grasping the weave, you turn, but before you can even get a cantrip playing on your fingertips, you hear a familiar voice.
“Touch her and die.”
No… it can’t possibly be.
The group of dishevelled people look around wildly, trying to find the source of that voice.
One of them steps forward threateningly, “Trying to play tricks on us, sorcerer? We aren’t so easily spooked.”
Your eyes search the rooftops surrounding the corridor. If he were to be anywhere, it would be there. You don’t see anything at first, but you catch a glimpse of movement and faintly make out a figure moving over the roofs shrouded in darkness.
Stepping closer, with that sad excuse for a dagger pointed at you, the man growls, “Your coin. Now. We won’t ask nicely again, little lady."
Astarion jumps down in front of you with his blades drawn.
“Final warning. Try to touch her and die.”
You’re speechless, just staring at the back of his head in bewilderment.
How much did I have to drink today? Am I hallucinating?
The group sizes Astarion up, no doubt wondering if all 5 of them could take on 1 of him.
With a shake of your head, you finally regain some of your composure and stand next to Astarion with a fireball playing on your fingertips.
“Do they dare?” he whispers only loud enough for you to hear.
“I kind of wish they would,” you whisper back, but lower knowing his hearing is much better than your own.
He chuckles under his breath.
They stare at you with your fire, and the look at their weapons compared to Astarion’s, gawking at them before they bolt off as if the fires of the Hells themselves were licking at their ankles, leaving you and Astarion standing there laughing
The laughter falls away abruptly and is replaced by abashed crimson eyes as he turns toward you.
“Astarion?”
You reach out to him, needing to be sure this isn’t a hallucination brought on by your sleep deprivation or just another dream.
He gently takes your hand in his and plants a soft kiss on the back. The bracing chill of his skin sends a shiver running up your spine.
“Yes, darling. It’s me.”
Your temper ignites, rage flashes through you like wildfire, and you shove him hard.
“You left me!”
Your lower lip quivers. Tears immediately flood your eyes and spill down your reddened cheeks in small streams.
The corners of his mouth draw downwards, and remorse saturates his expression.
“I know.”
Your chest feels tight as if your lungs are constricting around your wildly beating heart, and you swallow the lump rising in your throat.
“What did I do wrong?” Your voice shakes
His eyebrows pop upwards, creasing his forehead and his eyes round in shock.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why?!”
Bringing his hand to the back of his neck, he sighs, “I thought… I thought it was for the best.”
“For who?”
You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it
“You.”
Indignation reignites the raging wildfire, and you shoot him a smouldering glower.
“Fuck you, Astarion! What gave you the right to decide what’s best for me?”
“You’re right.”
His admittance catches you off guard. The repentant tone of his voice washes over you like a wave, quelling the fiery rage burning through your veins.
Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the brisk air, trying to rein in your emotions.
Exhaling slowly through your mouth, you meet his gaze again, “Why are you here, Astarion?”
He shuffles his feet, “I’ve been looking for you."
You scoff, “Why? Why now?”
He rubs his hands together, “If you are willing to hear me out, I would like to… talk.” he glances away from you, unsure of himself, “I understand if you don’t want to. If you never wish to see me again, say the word, and you will never have to lay eyes on me again.”
“Not tonight.”
“Of course, whenever you want to. I’m staying at an inn on the edge of town called Golden Harp Inn, room 2.”
“I’ll think about it. Goodbye, Astarion.”
You turn away from him, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lower lip, fighting the urge to cry.
“Would you allow me to walk you home?”
Your eyelashes sweep up as you look to the heavens, exasperated.
“Are you going to follow me regardless?”
He chuckles, “Probably, but I’ll be eminently more discreet about it.”
“You know I can take care of myself, right?”
“Of course, darling. I’m well aware you can burn anyone you wish to ash, or worse.”
A small smile pulls the corner of his mouth upward, and his fangs just barely peek out of his lips.
That damn smile tugs at your heartstrings as it always did.
Gods, I’ve missed him.
You roll your eyes, “Fine.”
“Lead on.”
You walk together in an awkward silence. His trained eyes observe the surroundings, instinctively searching for dangers lurking in the murky gloom. You’re thankful when you reach Gale’s grandiose manor.
Astarion looks up at the tower reaching high into the sky, clearly impressed.
“You live here?”
“This is Gale’s Manor. I’ve been staying here with him.”
A forlorn look passes over his face, and he looks down at the ground.
“I see,” his eyebrow cocks inquisitively but regains his confident composure quickly, “I hope to see you soon. Goodnight, my dear.”
With no further ado, he strides away and disappears into the twilight like a ghost.
What in the Nine Hells am I going to do?
You give your head a quick shake, trying to dislodge your whirling thoughts.
The manor is dark when you enter, with only a few flickering candles strewn about in various places.
You tiptoe up the stairs to your way up to your room, close and lock the large door, and slowly sink to the ground, wrapping your arms around your knees
You let the sorrow you feel consume you, and you sob inconsolably.
You awake with a start and find yourself on the floor where you had sunk to and cried yourself into some semblance of a trance.
Pushing yourself to your feet, you look at yourself in the mirror hanging on the opulently wallpapered wall. Your eyes are bloodshot and swollen with dark bags stretching out under them. You groan at your reflection.
Great.
Slipping into a clean robe, you make your way downstairs. Glancing out the tall window, you surmise that dawn had barely broken the horizon. The sun sits low, split in half by the bay. The golden light is just starting to brighten the dark sky.
Sighing, you make yourself some tea and sit on the terrace. The steaming hot cup warms your hands, providing a sense of comfort.
What in the Hells am I going to do?
You hadn't been able to think about it last night, consumed by grief. The voice in your head screams at you. Your intuition wails desperately at you that you should probably ask him to leave and never return. He broke you once, and you still haven’t recovered from his sudden disappearance. Unfortunately, what you know and what you want are constantly at war with each other.
I don’t want him to go.
Whether you liked it or not, your heart still belonged to him, and somehow, you knew it always would.
Gale’s voice breaches the serene silence of the emerging dawn.
“You’re up early this morning.”
Startled, you jump, and your tea spills into your lap.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says as he grabs a towel from the kitchen and hands it to you.
Taking the towel, you wipe your lap, “It’s okay. I was just lost in my thoughts.”
“Care to share what’s on your mind? Perhaps I could be of some assistance or provide a friendly ear.”
Should I tell him about Astarion?
You know you should. Gale was your friend, after all. You had quite literally been through hell and back together. He could help you sort out this mess you found yourself in if only you would let him in.
For some reason, you feel the desperate need to keep Astarion’s resurgence to yourself.
“No, it’s just my nightmares again.”
You feel an immediate gush of insurmountable guilt. The lie slips out of your mouth skillfully, much too easily for your comfort, but you’re not ready to share Astarion just yet, not until you figure out why he is here and what he wants from you.
“I’m going to go for a walk. I need to clear my head. Do you need me to pick anything up while I’m out?”
Gale shrugs his shoulder, “No, no. There’s no need to trouble yourself. Enjoy your walk.”
The early morning air is colder than you had prepared for, and you shiver slightly. You spend the day aimlessly wandering around the city, lost in your thoughts of Astarion.
What could he possibly want now? How long had he been looking for you? How did he know you were in Waterdeep?
You had so many questions that only he could answer.
The day passes in a blur, and before you know it, you’re standing outside the Golden Harp Inn as the sun starts to dip below the horizon.
You stand outside the inn in a paralyzing apprehension. An inquisitory voice penetrates your thoughts, breaking you out of them.
“Can I help you?”
Your eyes drift from the worn sign of the tavern and meet the woman's anticipatory glare.
How long have I been standing out here?
You shake your head, “Sorry. I’m looking for someone who might be staying here.”
Her brows raise in a suspicious glower, “And you’re looking for them outside?”
It was a fair question.
You plaster on the most innocent grin you can muster. “No, I just, uh... I wasn’t sure I had the right place, is all.”
She gives you a curt nod, “Well, why don’t you describe who you are looking for? I know all of my patrons.”
Your mouth quirks up in a half smile.
How do I describe him?
“Elf, extremely pale, obnoxiously smart mouth.”
“Oh, him,” she rolls her eyes hard, “he’s in room 2. Up the stairs, second door on your right.” she hesitates, judging you, “Be careful around that one, dear. He looks like he breaks hearts left and right.”
Gods, you have no idea.
You nod in appreciation, “Thank you.”
As you walk up the creaking staircase, your body trembles in anxious anticipation. You take deep breaths, trying to steady the untamed beating of your heart.
You warily eye the wooden door with the tarnished bronze #2 nailed precariously onto it, but you hesitate to knock.
Do I want to do this?
A muffled voice rings out from behind the closed door.
“I can hear you breathing, you know.”
Fuck.
Astarion opens the door and gives you a shallow bow, inviting you in.
“How did you know it was me breathing? It could have been anyone.”
He chuckles, “I can also smell your delectable blood, and I would recognize that scent anywhere.”
Of course, how could I forget that?
You bolster yourself, puffing out your chest in a silly attempt to appear more confident than you’re feeling.
“Well, I’m here. What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Straight to business, I see?”
You scowl at him in a warning, “Astarion.”
“Okay, darling. Okay.”
He stares at your with an eyebrow cocked, “Are you cold?”
“No.”
He rolls his eyes exasperatedly, “You’re shivering, my dear.”
Am I?
“Here.” he drapes a blanket around your shoulders, pulling it tight in front of you, “better?”
He’s standing close to you, and you inhale his comforting scent. He smells like the home you’ve been yearning to come back to.
“Better.”
He smiles, “Good.” He pauses, rubbing his hands together, “You… you might want to sit for this.”
Your stomach leaps into your throat, and your heart rate spikes further. What in the hell was he doing to say to you that he thought you should be sitting for? Was he about to ask you to come to his wedding? Tell you about his new lover? Ask you to kill him?
What heartbreak am I going to befall this time? I shouldn’t have come.
He reaches out and squeezes your arm in a comforting gesture, “Easy, darling.”
“What?”
“I can hear your heart beating a million miles a minute.”
You huff. You never could hide anything from him. He could read you like a favourite book
“Just spill it, Astarion. Stop stalling.”
He glances away from you nervously, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit?”
“No, I don’t want to sit.”
He sighs, “Okay, suit yourself.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, and you can see the unease he feels on his face. His usually confident demeanour is nowhere to be seen. He looks unsure of himself for the first time since you were walking into the Szarr Palace intending to kill his master.
He clears his throat and walks towards you. His gaze meets yours with an intensity that makes you gasp.
“I’ve been looking for you for a while. You’re incredibly hard to track down.”
You interrupt him, “How long?”
“Over a year.”
You would have been looking for him at the same time he was looking for you at one point.
He takes a small step toward you, “I came here to tell you… I… I want to be with you, but I didn’t realize you had moved on with…” he cringes, “Gale.”
A sad smile spreads across his face, “Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. He always did have feelings for you, and he can give you all the things I can’t, all the things you deserve.”
You walk over to the chair, plunge yourself down into it, and start to laugh hysterically.
Astarion is eyeing you with his best "I am not amused" look, but he sits on the side of the bed opposite you, looking at you like you might be cursed.
“I’m sorry,” you manage to squeeze out between giggles, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at your assumptions."
“Care to elaborate, darling?”
“Gale and I are not together, Astarion.”
His eyebrow cocks, “But you’re living with him?”
“I had nowhere else to go when you left… I couldn’t stay in our little house. You were everywhere and nowhere, and it hurt.”
Those vibrant scarlet irises glance away from you momentarily.
He meets your eyes again, “So you’re not together?”
You shake your head, stifling another giggle, “Absolutely not.”
With a wide, relieved grin, he says, “This conversation has just become much more pleasant.”
If only it were that simple.
“I don’t know if I can be with you again, Astarion.”
No matter how much I want to.
You suddenly feel uncomfortably hot and rise from the chair, shrugging off the blanket.
“What do you mean you want to be with me?”
“I want you, all of you. Without you, life is hardly worth living. The last years taught me that.”
You’re pacing around the small room now. Astarion’s eyes follow your movement keenly.
“And you thought you could just show up, and I’d what? Welcome you back with open arms?”
A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, “A man can hope, but no.” his eyes meet yours with a humility you haven’t seen before, “I expected you to tell me to leave, or quite possibly burn me to ash, but here you are.” he pauses, “I’m sorry I left.”
You stop rapidly pacing the room and meet his eyes sadly, “I’m sorry you felt like you had to leave instead of just talking to me.”
He huffs, “Oh, come off. You were amazing.”
Tears brim in your eyes, “Then why did you leave me, Astarion?”
“I…,” he steps so close that he’s almost touching you and wipes the tears escaping your eyes with his thumb, “I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what? Me?”
“Gods, no.” he hisses, “You’re the only person I’ve ever truly cared for. Have you truly spent the last couple of years thinking I left because of you?”
“What else was I supposed to think?”
His face softens, “Oh, my love. I’m so sorry.”
Astarion wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. It takes you a minute, but you finally allow yourself to melt into him, pressing yourself hard against him. Your shoulders slump and shake with sobs.
When he finally releases you, you look up at him and are surprised to see tears running down his pale cheeks.
Instinctively, you reach up and wipe them away with the back of your hand, “Don’t cry, Astarion.”
He chuckles at you, amused, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away.
“Don’t cry, my love,” he whispers.
One of your hands still grasps a handful of his shirt. You’re scared that if you release the tight grip, he will disappear, and this will all be a dream.
“I was afraid."
His words echo in the expanse of your mind.
“Why were you afraid?"
He brushes the hair out of your face tenderly and cradles your face with his palm. You press your face harder into his cool touch, your lips grazing his skin.
He is home.
“I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to give you the life you deserve,” his voice lowers to a whisper, “the love you deserve.”
You scoff at him, “A life with you is all I wanted, Astarion.”
Astarion tilts your head so that your eyes meet his searching crimson gaze. His face is relaxed, and you see no signs of that mask he sometimes wore.
“Do you still want it? Me?”
His lips ghost over yours, making your eyes flutter closed.
“I could never stop loving you.”
He clicks his tongue, “That’s not an answer.”
“I’m afraid, Astarion.”
“Of what?”
“I’m afraid you will leave again when things get hard or uncomfortable. I won’t survive losing you twice.” you stare back at him with suffocating trepidation, “Perhaps we can be friends… for now.”
You can almost taste the sorrow infecting his red eyes, but he smiles anyway, “Friends. Yes… yes, I can do that.”