Chapter Text
“I’m impressed with your work as always, Valora, but it would be remiss of me to not mention how heavy this thing is,” Astarion said. He swayed his hips side to side like a slow pendulum while he gripped the large, handmade pot. She had spent quite some time on this piece and he’d be damned if he dropped it. His hand moved underneath the unglazed base to ensure a better grip.
Valora turned to look at him, watching as he continued to reposition his hands. She frowned slightly at the sight of him constantly moving, constantly fidgeting. Valora had planned to bring the pot to Tav’s flat herself, but Astarion had insisted on helping. He had never been the kind to help others in his past life, but found an odd inner peace in helping his girlfriend and her family in this one.
It’s funny how things work out, Astarion thought.
“Now, I don’t intend on complaining, but is it meant to be this heavy? I fear I’ll set it down and Astarion– gods, I’ll never get over that– will be unable to move it. I don’t want to set it in the incorrect place and force your friends to live with an obelisk in their entryway forevermore.”
The drow felt her ears lower at his words. It was nice to hear Astarion ramble for a change, rather than be the chatterbox herself. Though, his comments weren’t helping her feel better in the slightest. Valora’s eyes flicked upwards to the screen that displayed what floor they were on.
Three. She blinked slowly, hoping that it would push upwards faster and by the time she opened her eyes they’d already be on the tenth floor. Nope– Four. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Astarion changing his grip again. “They asked for it to be heavy,” Valora said, her eyes still fixated on the slowly-changing numbers. “That was the only request– bottom heavy to ensure the monstera won’t topple over. Could you– um– could you be more careful? It’s stressing me out watching you move like that.”
Astarion nodded quietly, his own crimson gaze switching over to look at the screen instead of Valora. Five.
“Vally?”
“What?”
“Let’s both stop focusing on the lift. How long do you think this will take? I don’t have a problem staying– I don’t think we have plans– I’d just like to know how long we’ll be here,” Astarion’s voice was soft as he spoke to her. Valora had been working tirelessly on this project. He knew that she was focusing on the lift to distract herself from the idea that her new friend might not like her pot. He was focusing on the lift because he detested small, enclosed spaces.
“I’m not entirely certain how long, but I’d like to stay a little while. The text she sent said we’re more than welcome to stay for dinner. Something like “Astarion always makes too much food. Come hungry!”
“I hope it’s the pot roast you brought home last time you delivered the mugs,” Astarion practically drooled at the thought. It was such a shame that his doppelgänger couldn’t eat the foodstuffs he prepared. “Now that was phenomenal. I mean it. We should take notes, Vally. Perhaps reverse engineer his recipe? I have so many questions…”
"Tenth floor,” the robotic voice of the lift blasted through the worn speakers. “You have arrived on the tenth floor.”
Valora immediately booked it out of the lift and Astarion followed suit, moving his hands again to get a better grip on the pot. The hideous green wallpaper that covered the narrow hallway nearly made Astarion gag, but he shoved it down. Compared to Valora’s family estate, this was horrendous. Almost pitiable.
Making a fuss will only stress her out more, he thought to himself as they approached what appeared to be Valora’s friend’s flat– an unassuming dark green door, with bronze numbers and a matching door knocker. The knocker had been installed improperly and was hanging precariously off the rusted nail. Astarion frowned.
Gods, why can’t I remember her name? Tab? It has to be Tab.
He looked back to Valora, who was chewing her bottom lip. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the knocker rattling as she did so. Her amethyst eyes flickered back to Astarion, who gave her a reassuring smile.
“I’m a little worried she’s not going to like it. I know she said she trusted my judgement, but… I don’t know. I’m still worried. What if it doesn’t fit in with the rest of their decor?”
They could hear shuffling coming from the other side of the door and the sound of a woman’s voice shouting “Just a moment, please!” Valora felt as if she could crumple up and die this very moment, on the hand-painted welcome mat.
“Oh, pet, I’m sure she’s going to love it. Tab wouldn’t have asked you to make it for her if she wasn’t confident in your skills,” Astarion said, hearing shuffling from inside the flat. “It’s a gorgeous piece, really. Perhaps one of your best. I particularly enjoy the vines.”
Valora furrowed her silver brows and blinked twice. “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that?”
“Hmm? I particularly enjoy–”
“No, no, I heard that. Did you say Tab?”
“Is her name not Tab?” Astarion questioned. “You and Astarion both said her name was Tab. Tab Valnorin.”
“Her name’s Tav. I don’t think anyone in the history of, like, ever, has been named Tab. That’s— that’s not a name. Have you met someone named Tab before? I promise I’m not teasing you, I’ve just never heard the name Tab…”
Valora’s voice slowly faded away as Astarion stared blankly at a patch of peeling wallpaper. It took great effort to keep himself together, and he found himself absentmindedly rubbing the bottom of the pot with his left hand. The coarse texture helped keep him as present as possible– which, admittedly, wasn’t that present.
It had been nearly half a millennium since he had heard the name Tav. The name had all but completely died out in the modern age, and Astarion seriously expected that he wouldn’t have to hear it ever again. How incorrect he was. His middle finger ran over a small imperfection in the unglazed base of the pot, and he ran over it repeatedly.
It’s only a name, he thought. You’re twisting yourself into knots over a name. Get over yourself. Relax. It’s only a name. It’s only a–
Tav applied the finishing touches to her eyeliner before she pulled her cardigan over her shoulders and rushed to greet her guests. Astarion was in the kitchen, eyes lowered as he finished chopping the potatoes. He glanced up at her and they exchanged a nervous smile before Tav opened the front door.
“Valora! So glad you found us all right!”
“Hello, Tav! Sorry we’re a little late– the traffic was absolutely bonkers,” Valora laughed nervously, looking over her friend. She noticed the new cardigan and smiled. “Seriously. It was backed up all the way to the Cliffgate. Though, we made it here safe and sound, right, Astarion?”
Astarion muttered something, but his words were cut short by the half-elf’s excitement for the pot. He raised his upper lip and curled the corners of his mouth, attempting to put on a normal expression, but failed.
“Oh, don’t worry about it! Star is just finishing up dinner,” Tav smiled at her friend before her eyes fell on the pot Astarion, Valora’s Astarion, held in his arms. She hadn’t noticed the pained expression on the vampire’s face, and she craned her neck over Valora’s shoulder to get a better look. It was square with a tiered base that widened at the bottom. Painted dark green with light green vines twisting around it, and tiny flowers of different colours dotted along. It was beautiful, and exactly what she wanted.
"Valora, it’s perfect! I love it!” Tav exclaimed. “It’s so big, but I guess that’s what I get for not researching how big a monstera is.”
“You do? I was so worried you wouldn’t like it! I tried to make it smaller, really, but it took on a life of its own,” she smiled, gently tapping the side of the pot. “My work tends to do that. I am but a humble shepherd that gently guides the clay, but it ultimately chooses the direction.”
Why did I say that? That’s literally one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever said, she thought. Valora laughed nervously a second time and subtly nudged Astarion in the side, trying to get him to say something. He didn’t respond, and instead continued to stand still with that strange expression stitched onto his pale face.
Tav chuckled and stepped aside to let the pair in. Tav absentmindedly touched Valora’s shoulder as she passed, then did the same to Astarion. “Please come in, there are hooks by the door right there to hang up your stuff. I hope you’re hungry, because Star’s been working on this pot roast for hours. I told him how much everyone liked it last time. He won’t admit it, but he takes this very seriously.”
Astarion’s body tensed the moment the half-elf touched his left shoulder. A simple touch alone wasn’t enough to send him spiraling, but his already panicked mental state pushed it further. His fingers trembled as her fingers lingered just a little too long, causing the pot to wobble. Astarion swallowed dryly, and quietly marched into the flat behind Valora. If he was quiet enough, maybe, just maybe, nobody would pay attention to him and judge his reaction.
As the two passed the threshold and entered into the modest, yet cozy, flat, Valora couldn’t help but think of the little place she had in Neverwinter way back when. The way Tav and Astarion had organized their sanctuary somehow reminded her of when Astarion first came into her life; how he opted for organic materials over plastic and other synthetic products. Linen shirts, charcoal toothpaste, woolen blankets, things like that.
“We loved it. Ast was just saying how he was hoping that your, uh, Astarion– that is so weird– would make it. Isn’t that right?” Valora said while making her way to the hooks, hanging up her crossbody bag and zip-up hoodie. It was a little nippy out, so Valora had chosen to wear a navy blue long-sleeved henley underneath her hoodie. “I left Snowball at home– I know I said I’d bring him, but it was a bit of a hassle to get him in the car. I’m sorry.”
“Ah, I understand. But for the future, he is always welcome. I bought cat treats for him, in case,” Tav pointed to the bag of treats on the coffee table. She’d bought them from a specialty shop where they sold only organic, human-grade pet food. Astarion said she could buy them from anywhere and it would be fine, but Tav didn’t want to risk it.
The cat treats were a sweet gesture, and Valora suddenly felt a little guilty for not bringing Snowball over. She fidgeted with the wooden beads of her bracelet and looked to Astarion for reassurance, of which he offered none. It wasn’t often that he got like this, but when he did, she knew to just ride it out.
“That’s so kind of you, Tav. Thank you. I’ll bring him next time– given everything goes smoothly, of course,” Valora said as she knelt down to take off her hi-tops. She fumbled with her laces and cursed under her breath, before plopping them in the shoe pile beside the door. She popped back upwards and stood awkwardly next to Astarion, who was quietly struggling with the weight of the pot.
“I mean– it’s going to go smoothly. I have a good feeling about tonight.”
I am so nervous I think I’m going to pass out, Valora thought. Tonight has to be perfect, it has to.
“I would like to set the pot down,” Astarion said, interrupting Valora’s thoughts. His voice was flat and near monotone. “If I drop it, it will shatter.”
“Oh! Oh gods, I’m so sorry. Yes, right here, if you don’t mind?” Tav pointed to the corner next to the balcony door. Valora had asked for specific measurements and pictures of her living room so she could craft the planter perfectly. Tav thought it was going to look great, especially after she got the plant in it.
There was, admittedly, a part of Astarion that considered dropping the pot and booking it out of the flat. He could practically see himself forgoing that awfully slow lift and running down the stairs, taking the truck and driving as far as he could. Astarion hadn’t felt this way in–
The sound of ceramic scraping against the wooden floor broke him from his trance. Astarion looked down at the pot that sat completely intact in its place. He crossed his arms over his chest and bit his lower lip, brows furrowed.
In the kitchen, Astarion dropped the chopped potatoes into the pot with the roast, then covered it again to put the ceramic pan back in the oven. He bent down to peer through the pass-through window that looked into the living room.
“We have about an hour until the food is ready,” he announced. “But I also made something called a seven-layer dip, if you’d like some.”
Tav grinned at Valora and Astarion. “Have you had it before? It sounds amazing. Oh, if you’re thirsty we have water, and some soft drinks I can’t remember the names of. In a red can? I’m sure you know what I mean.” Tav punctuated her sentence with a nervous laugh, inwardly cursing herself. Why was this so difficult? Never in her life had she been so nervous meeting new people. Valora wasn’t even a new person, Tav had known her for a few months already. The only new person was Astarion, and he wasn’t exactly new to her, either.
“Anyway,” Tav said with another laugh. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
“Yes! We love seven layer dip. My brother makes it whenever the Neverwinter Knights have a game. Do you, uh, do you keep up with hockey? Or sports in general? Are you familiar with sp–”
Valora jumped at the sound of her phone ringing in her back pocket. She raised her silver brows up upon reading the caller ID. “Gods, I’m so sorry, I have to take this! It’s like I mention my brother and he calls. He’s watching Snowball. I’ll just be a second– may I use your balcony?”
Valora smiled sheepishly while she stepped out onto the balcony and shut the door behind her, leaving Astarion alone in the living room with Tav. He stood awkwardly in the corner near the pot, as if he was guarding it.
“I’m not big on hockey,” Tav said to Astarion. “Or any modern sports, really. Star thinks I’d like it more if we actually went to see a game in one of those big stadiums. I miss the old fashioned tournaments - ”
“Tav?” Astarion called from the kitchen. “I could use another pair of hands, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, sure! I’ll be right back. You can sit down, if you want,” Tav gestured to the couch.
Tav turned and walked into the small kitchen, where Astarion had prepared a tray of food. The dip, a bowl of chips, some small plates, and three glasses were laid out neatly. Astarion peered out through the pass-through window into the living room, where their guest still stood with his arms crossed near the balcony door while Valora paced around outside.
“Is he all right?” Astarion asked, his voice quiet so as to not be overheard.
“I was hoping you’d know,” Tav said. “I thought you might have telepathy or something.”
Astarion huffed a laugh through his nose. “Not as far as I know. Can you take the tray, and I’ll take the drinks?”
Tav did as he asked and picked up the tray he’d prepared. She brought it into the living room and put it down on the coffee table. Astarion placed a pitcher of ice water and a few cans of the soft drink in the red can next to it. As he straightened up, he gave his double a polite smile.
“It’s good to see you again,” he said.
“Likewise,” Astarion cleared his throat and nodded curtly as his doppelgänger. They looked nearly identical, but Astarion easily picked up on the little differences between the two of them. His twin had a much more relaxed disposition, with a half-smile that said I’m here, I’m present, and I’m home. Astarion’s eyes shifted to the tray of water and the same red drink Valora’s brother kept in the fridge at home. He wasn’t a fan of the taste, but didn’t want to make an even bigger fuss.
Move, you have to move, Astarion thought to himself. The man stepped forward and took a seat on the very far end of the couch, as far away from Tav as physically possible.
“It’s still impossibly jarring to see someone that looks just like me,” Astarion said, just before letting out an awkward, dry laugh. “I’m sure you must feel the same.”
A beat passed and Astarion shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Valora was phenomenal at carrying the conversation with strangers and getting out of awkward situations. While it was possible for him, his silver tongue didn’t come as naturally as it once did before. He silently hoped that she’d be done with her phone call soon and would rush in and break the ice.
“Oh, it absolutely is! I don’t have a reflection, so seeing myself at all is no small thing,” Astarion sat in the plush armchair across from where his duplicate sat. “I thought I must have died the first time. It was a shock, to say the least. Truth be told, I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable seeing multiple versions of myself walk around in the world.”
“I’m sure it was… frightening, to say the very least,” Astarion said dryly, looking towards the sliding glass door. He watched as Valora impatiently tapped her foot, clearly trying to end her conversation. “That’s not an issue I’ve had in some time, I’m afraid. I empathize with you. I remember how awful that felt.”
Astarion nodded. It did feel awful, but having no reflection was part of his life, and he didn’t want to think about it. He’d made his choice, and that was that. “Yes, but at least now I can trust Tav to tell me when my hair is out of place.”
“Can you?” Tav smirked at him and opened one of the red cans.
He watched as Valora slapped her phone shut and stuffed the device into her back pocket, getting ready to enter back into the cramped flat.
Keep it together, Astarion thought. This is important to her. Be polite. Your own gods-awful brand of issues cannot interfere with her making friends.
“Well, I suppose I’m going to be the first one to eat,” Tav sat on the other end of the couch and leaned forward to help herself to a plate of chips and dip. She’d never had this dish before, but watching Astarion put it together made her mouth water. Tav helped herself to a generous amount of dip onto her plate and took a bite.
“Mmm Star, this is so good. Of course, I don’t know what it’s meant to taste like, but wow.”
Tav gestured to Astarion and then to the tray of refreshments in front of them. “Help yourself! You can tell us how he did better than I can.”
Astarion could feel a knot weave itself together in the back of his neck. His fingers gripped the edge of the couch on instinct, and before he opened his mouth he was interrupted by the sound of the sliding glass door. The knot lessened– Valora was not his keeper, but he did feel more comfortable with her in the room.
“I am so, so sorry about that! My brother thought Snowball ate a lollipop. Ooh, seven layer dip!” Valora excitedly rubbed her hands together as she made her way to the couch, taking a seat next to Astarion. “What did I miss? Talk about anything interesting?”
“Oh, nothing much! I was just telling Star, ah - ” Tav shook her head. Having more than one Astarion around was difficult, and she was constantly using the wrong name for them. “Sorry, Astarion, how I want to go see a sportsball game in one of those stadiums. Have you ever been to one?”
Valora excitedly reached for a chip while Tav talked. She scooped some of the dip, aiming for a juicy black olive. Astarion followed after her; while he may have been in a sour mood, who was he to say no to delicious dip?
Gods, this is incredible, Astarion thought as he chewed on the tortilla chip. Even he could see how unfair it was that his doppelgänger couldn't enjoy the fruits of his labour.
“I am sure she has,” Astarion said with a chuckle. “She’s from here, remember?”
“Well, yes, but you never know! The future is confusing. I’ve been living here for a few months and I feel like I discover something new every day. I still don’t understand what the internet is,” Tav shifted her position and tucked her legs underneath herself. “I’m happy to have met people like you, who are patient enough to wait while I figure out how to reply to a text message.”
Astarion shifted in his seat. He had a question burning in the back of his mind, but he didn’t know the best time to ask. It was about the palace that could still be seen looming over the city, but it was different, not the same palace he had lived in. He’d been wanting to ask about it ever since he’d seen it from the window of a cab, the sign on the outside read “Baldur’s Gate Cultural Centre”, and Astarion had no idea what that meant.
Valora smiled at being called patient. Usually she was called reckless, impulsive, brash, etc… patient was a welcome change. She thought for a moment while chewing, and opened her mouth to speak once she had swallowed.
“I have a question,” Astarion interrupted. He could not wait for Valora to answer Tav, he had to know. “The Crimson Palace still stands, but it appears different from the outside. What happened to it?”
Astarion hoped his question wouldn’t be taken offensively. The man across from him had lived there; he had taken over after his ascension, but left quickly after. The details were fuzzy, and curiosity had burned in Astarion’s mind ever since.
Valora and Astarion looked at one another, communicating via subtle changes in their expressions. An eyebrow raised, a lip pulled upwards. A silent dance to decide who would best answer the question. Eventually, Valora looked back towards the other couple, gearing up to answer.
“It’s a museum. I’ve never known it as the Crimson Palace– imagine my surprise once Ast really explained everything to me,” Valora laughed dryly. By this point, she was leaning over herself, her hands moving with each key word that came out of her mouth. If anything, the drow was expressive.
“Anyways, the story is that the building sat vacant for a little under half a millennium. They– they being the city– apparently lost the deed and because the building was built into a wall they didn’t rediscover the building until repairs were done on said wall. That was like, twenty years ago, I think?”
Valora looked over to Astarion for confirmation but quickly remembered that she was the one who explained this to him, not the other way around. He still sat there, slouched into the couch, his right arm draped over the back and his left clutching the armrest.
Astarion felt his stomach flip over at this news and he exchanged a look with Tav. Both wore similar expressions of confusion and concern. Although that palace was not his home, he still felt uneasy at the thought of groups of people walking through the halls for entertainment, touching everything, not knowing the atrocities that had occurred there. He was inwardly grateful that he and Tav had made sure the palace back home had burned to the ground. Nobody would be able to repurpose it.
“That must be odd,” Astarion muttered and looked at his doppelgänger. He didn’t dare ask it, but Astarion wondered if he’d ever ventured inside. What changed? What did they do with the kennels? Astarion didn’t know if he’d ever be brave enough to go there himself, but maybe one day he could ask his double about it.
A heavy pause passed over the four of them, blanketing the living room in an uncomfortable silence. Valora was the first to speak up and redirect the conversation away from such a heavy subject and back to something she actually enjoyed talking about: hockey.
“To, uh, answer your previous question, we go to the stadium often. If Neverwinter wasn’t multiple days away by car we’d have season passes for the Knights, but we go whenever they’re playing the Sentinels. We have jerseys and everything. I love hockey. You should come with us sometime!” Valora’s eyes flickered towards the chips once more before deciding to take another one. She silently hoped that their new friends would come over sometime and bring the dip with them.
“I’d love to! There’s so much to do in the future. Well, I suppose it’s not the future anymore, since we’re living in it,” Tav laughed.
“And please, don’t be shy with the food. Eat as much as you’d like,” Tav helped herself to more chips, to punctuate her point.
“Yes, please eat! I didn’t spend all day in the kitchen for nothing,” Astarion said with a smirk. “Oh, Valora, before I forget, let me pay you for the pot! Tav was so excited for it, and you did such a lovely job. My wallet is in the kitchen, though. Do you mind?”
“I don’t mind at all,” Valora stood up off of the couch with a small smile. She didn’t need the money, but greatly appreciated being paid for her work. “Lead the way, Star.”
Astarion stood up and walked the few feet to the kitchen, where his wallet was tucked between the wall and a small indoor planter where jars labeled thyme, rosemary, basil, and dill were nestled. A shelf of recipe books ran along the wall overhead, and the vines of a few indoor plants hung over the edge. Tav had insisted on keeping their flat full of different plants, and of course Astarion had to water them, since she couldn’t reach. Astarion made a mental note to trim the herbs later, as they were growing quite large.
Astarion watched as Valora left, tailing behind his doppelgänger. She looked over before ducking into the kitchen and offered him a soft smile, to which he responded with a smile of his own and a light wave. The moment Valora’s head was out of view Astarion’s face fell, and he did his best to hide his face with his dominant hand.
Act normal, he thought to himself, Don’t cause a scene. If you’re silent, hopefully she will be silent, too. Just wait it out, Astarion. You’ve waited out worse.
Tav watched the two wander into the kitchen, and sat back against the couch to enjoy her chips. Astarion sat silently on the other end, his eyes looking anywhere but at her. Tav fiddled with the leaves of the spider plant that sat on the shelf next to her.
“Did you know that spider plants purify the air?” she knew it was a dumb thing to say, but she had to break the ice somehow. “That’s what they told us at the garden centre, anyway.”
Astarion didn’t reply. He kept his eyes down and his face blank. Tav knew her Astarion well enough to know something was wrong; the two shared many similarities, and the look on Astarion’s face was one of them. Though he wasn’t looking at her, Tav saw the slump of his shoulders, the slight twitch of his lips. His ears drooped low and he was so still, barely even breathing, as if he didn’t want to attract attention. Tav knew this expression well.
“Are you all right?” Tav couldn’t help herself, she had to ask.
“I’m just peachy,” Astarion drew his lips into a thin line and blinked, still looking down at the chips laid out on the coffee table before him. “We can just sit here quietly, you know. We don’t have to talk.”
Astarion’s fingers itched for a cigarette. He could feel the weight of his nearly-full pack in his back pocket. As deep as the desire to slip out onto the balcony ran, even deeper still was the need to stay put and keep his back facing the wall; not facing the half-elf that sat before him.
Rationally, the vampire knew that this was not a bad person, and that she was a victim of circumstance such as himself. Astarion felt genuine shame at his behaviour, and yet could do nothing to stop it.
“Oh, right. Of course,” Tav muttered and she pulled her cardigan tightly around herself. She didn't know what she’d done to offend him, and didn’t know how to ask. Tav looked around the room, wondering when Astarion and Valora would be done in the kitchen.
“Can I get you something? Water or anything?” Tav tried again, wondering if that was the reason for the cold shoulder.
Astarion’s calloused hand gripped the armrest of the couch harder as he sat unblinking, continuing to stare at the coffee table. He could hardly hear the voice of the woman that sat across from him; her words muffled and warbled as if he was underwater and she was speaking to him from dry land. Astarion squinted as he tried to focus on the table, attempting to pull himself back out from the depths of his mind.