A Gift (Kinda) Freely Given

by Saiya_tina

Summary:

Astarion does Raphael a favor and is given a gift in exchange: the chance to explore his complicated feelings about sex without the fear of anyone touching him in return. Gale is starting to act strange however...

TL;DR: Raphael gives Astarion a magical pocket pussy and he doesn't know it's connected to Gale.

Notes:

Inspired by this prompt at the bg3 kink meme: https://baldurskink.dreamwidth.org/695.html?thread=225207#cmt225207

I just thought it would be fun and hot.

Chapter 1: The Devil's Gift

It had been a gift from Raphael of all people. Raphael had come to him personally with an offer: to eliminate a demon who had taken something precious from the devil, in return for something precious to be returned to him. Deals with devils rarely ended well, but the vampire was curious (and greedy) enough to oblige. The hunt and kill was barely worthy of his talents, but he was not one to say no to a precious gift. Raphael had then presented him with an oddly shaped object.

“What in the hells is this?” Astarion said, with a mix of disgust and anger, turning it over in his hands. It was approximately the size of his palm, the colour of lightly tanned flesh and a seam down the middle. When he pressed his thumb against it, it parted under his touch like actual, soft skin and revealed a very… familiar sight. “What in the actual fuck- is this a real-?!”

“Not quite,” Raphael said with amusement. “How gauche would that be? It’s a… toy of my incubus’ design. Realistic and life-like in every sense of the word, a lovely thing to enjoy when one is feeling… pent up.”

“I kill a demon for you, and you give me… what, a bloody sex toy?” The vampire was livid, his body feeling like a roiling cauldron of anger, disgust and shame. “This is not what we discussed!”

“Isn’t it? I promised you something precious in return for my precious. You think I don’t know every thought behind your eyes, vampire?” Raphael grinned, eyes like daggers, and just as poisonous. “The anger, the disgust every time you even think of bedding someone. You tried with the tiefling, Tav, didn’t you? Didn’t even make it a full ten minutes before you were overcome with disgust at yourself. Such a shame, carnal pleasures can be so delightful.”

“Tread carefully, devil,” Astarion hissed, half tempted to just throw the object in his face.

“That lovely little toy in your hands cannot touch you, cannot control you, can harm you in no way, but you? Oh, there is much you can do with it. Fuck it, eat it out, throw it away or sell it to a brothel, that is your choice.” Raphael tapped his cheek with a pointed finger, looking at Astarion with amusement. “After all, wouldn’t that be precious? Able to finally experience pleasure safely without any fear?”

“Get out,” Astarion’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “And I better not see you again, devil.”

“Oh, we’ll be seeing each other plenty, I forsee,” Raphael chuckled. “And in my opinion… do sell it to a brothel if you don’t want it. That would be… well, that would be something.” And with a flash of smoke and the smell of brimstone, Raphael had vanished. Astarion made to throw the disgusting toy after him, but something gave him pause. He stared down at the object, exploring it with his fingers. It looked incredibly realistic and there was something… disconcerting of seeing it protruding from an oval frame rather than being attached to a warm, living body.

He ran his fingers along the outer lips and parted them to start into what he could have sworn was an actual cunt. It was gentle pulsing, likely because of Astarion pulling its lips opens, exposing it to the air. To his disgust, and slowly increasing horror, he could see it getting damp, the pink folds glistening with slick the longer he held it open. There was even a small, round clitoris at the top and he couldn’t stop his thumb from reaching up to stroke it gently. It throbbed against the pad of his finger, just like the real thing and that snapped him out of his reverie. He let it go and dropped it into his bag, pledging to put the whole thing out of his mind as he headed back to camp.

He fended off the interrogation his party members put him through, citing a need for some bedroll time. He noticed that Gale’s tent flaps were closed quite early for the day, but gave it no further thought as he flopped down in his tent.

Chapter 2: Just One Touch

Summary:

Astarion decides to examine his gift.

Astarion had put the whole matter to the back of his mind and forgotten it for quite some time. The party had been busy, what with rescuing a bear-shaped druid, wiping out an entire goblin camp, and finally getting some knowledge of this mysterious entity known as the Absolute. It had been a horrendous day after Tav had taken them into battle against a group of gnolls and Astarion had come close to death several times, having been bitten more in one day than he thinks he’s ever bitten anyone else in his entire lifetime. The tension between Shadowheart and Lae’zel had been ramping up, and Gale had been… well, Gale.

There was something about the wizard that just rubbed Astarion the wrong way. He was handsome enough: strong, regal features, long chestnut hair, streaked with auburn and silver, just messy enough to be endearing in that half-up style the wizard preferred, big brown cow eyes that always reflected every emotion he ever felt, whether it was happiness, curiosity or anger, particularly when he was in battle. The focus and sharpness in that gaze had aroused… something in Astarion. A hint of lust, but mostly the thrill of a powerful, intelligent potential ally.

However, Gale had shot down that ambition quickly enough, not allowing Astarion to get more than a line out before advocating for silence. Gale advocating for silence, the thought was laughable if it didn’t mean Astarion was shit out of luck once again. The sting of rejection and humiliation made him want to rip the wizard’s pretty throat out with his teeth, but instead he settled for seething and going through the rest of their party for a suitable candidate.

The thought, however, made him feel sick. The idea of touching someone, letting them touch him… it brought his mind back to Raphael’s words and the object still sitting in his bag. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to examine it further…

Once they’d all retreated to their tents, or settled around the campfire, he pulled out the toy from the bottom of his bag. It still looked pristine, no matter how many things had been stuffed into his bag on top of it, and he took the time to actually examine it carefully.

As Raphael had said, it was incredibly realistic. The plump outer labia covered the most delicate petals and folds that he had ever seen, though he’d never had the chance to actually examine one so closely before. In his past dalliances, there had always been that sense of urgency and the distraction of knowing he’d have to bring his latest bed partner back to Cazador to feast on. So he paid no attention to any part of them, not even the pleasure being inflicted upon himself (when he was lucky anyway). There was no point of lingering on the dead, or the soon-to-be-so.

But there was no Cazador, no rush now. No voice in his head, threatening him if he came back empty handed. No dreadful anticipation of the lash if he was too slow, if the meal wasn’t to Cazador’s standards. There was nothing in his head but silence… and the wary desire to explore.

He took a moment to look his fill. Just like before, the folds of the cunt started to moisten the longer he held it open, almost as though it knew it was being looked at. He had the amusing thought for a moment that it was shy. He pictured a young virgin, flustered under his gaze, trembling in anticipation of what he might do to them. He had always liked the shy, reserved ones: they were the most fun to debauch.

The longer he looked, the more he relaxed. He had fully expected Raphael to pop up in the middle of the camp and expose him: the perverted vampire spawn with a cunt in his hand. But no, it seemed the devil was genuine about this at least: it was just a safe way to explore his limits. It was… oddly nice.

He turned his attention back to the folds before him. He kept his thumbs holding the flower open as his fingers dipped very gently within. His fingertips dampened with the slick exuding from the toy, and Astarion could have sworn the scent, that heady musky scent had gotten stronger. It felt incredibly lifelike, and if he closed his eyes, he would have sworn he was touching real-life flesh and blood.
His finger dipped deep enough to brush that welcoming hole in the middle and he felt it kiss at his fingertip, making his bite his lip, feeling the slightest stirring in his own breeches. He dared to blow gently at it, just the lightest stream of breath, and the small hole in the middle clenched, and he thinks he may have heard a gasp somewhere, though it was likely his imagination. He almost wished it was real.

His gaze trailed up to the clit slowly hardening at the top junction of the lips, feeling like he could almost see it throbbing. Cradling the toy in one hand, he let the fingers of his other trail up to lightly rub his thumb over the small, rubbery ball, his mind drawing to his brain the imagine of someone shivering as he thumbed at them, gasping as he sank his fangs into their throat, pain as Cazador punished him for disobeying-

He almost immediately wilted and nearly threw the toy away from him. He stuffed it back into his bag and rubbed his hands in the dirt, wiping off the traces of slick and heady scent before rolling himself up in the covers of his bedroll, pretending that the shivers trailing his body were from the cold. He could see the campfire through the sliver of light in his tent flap and debated shifting to one of the open spaces around it. He didn’t want to be exposed without cover, however.

As he began to trance, he mused he could’ve sworn Gale had claimed that spot earlier.

Notes:

I banged out more than half of this fic in a day, it's been a good one. More to come and tags to change!

Chapter 3: Midnight Play

Summary:

Astarion's sure he'll be staked in the morning, why not have some fun before?

Astarion’s first actual use of the toy was unplanned. He’d been so, so hungry and unable to resist it anymore. He could’ve gone hunting, but Cazador’s voice had rung in his head, the reminder Thou shalt not feed on any thinking creature as he looked upon the array of his companions resting around the campfire. The urge had been overwhelming and he had weakened, just for a moment, but it was enough.

He had stood over tomorrow’s adventuring party, the four of them sprawled around the campfire, and weighed his options. Karlach was untouchable and he had no desire to burn his throat. Lae’zel would slaughter him without compunction. He didn’t think she knew how to relax, it would be difficult to not wake her and the others. Gale was a tempting prospect, especially with that long, bared neck lined with the marks from his odd tattoo, but Astarion could smell something… wrong with his blood. Tav would be the best choice, or at least the most sensible.

But he was sloppy, and Tav woke up to seeing Astarion looming above him, fangs bared. The vampire spawn thought it would be his last moments, but the tiefling had been… kind? Understanding? Stupid? He had refused to let him feed on him, but assured him that he would be safe, as long as he kept his fangs reserved for their foes. Astarion hadn’t even protested, just thanked him with confusion and watched with astonishment as the tiefling rolled over and went back to sleep. The other companions around the campfire didn’t even stir. In fact, he’s rather sure Karlach just snored louder, interspersed with mumbled commentary from a still sleeping Gale.

The… trust was unexpected. Confusing. Hell, maybe it was just a sign that these people were far too trusting. He half expected to be staked in the morning and, well, stress wasn’t good for trancing.
After a hunt for some beast to satiate him for the night, he found himself back in his tent, attempting to get some rest. There was no chance of his trancing now, not with the threat of being turned on by the others once Tav explained to them the truth of his nature. And in that case… it felt a shame to die without feeling a bit good.

He drew the toy out of his bag and this time, he did not hesitate. Still keyed up from his near-death experience (shut up, it still counted) and warmed with a belly full of boar blood, he bared the innermost folds with a few fingers and leaned up to lave his tongue along the full length of it, ending it with a flick of the clit. It tasted sweet, with the unmistakable hint of musk, and Astarion just craved more. He ran his tongue along the outer lips, making sure to cover every inch of it, almost ravenous with the need to dominate something.

He heard some small kerfuffle from outside, the sound of someone suddenly moving and froze, tongue still half dipped into his wonderful toy’s hole as he heard Tav sleepily voice some concern for Gale. He carefully drew the tent flap back just an inch to peer out and spotted the purple clad wizard, sitting bolt upright, cheeks visibly flushed even under the campfire light.

“Y-yes, just an, ah, unusual dream I suppose,” Gale said to the tiefling, though his eyes were wide enough to be mistaken for saucers. “I-I think something from last night didn’t agree with me, um, excuse me-”

The wizard scrambled up to his feet and then walked quickly towards his tent. The spawn mentally shrugged and got back to his latest amusement. The urge had receded, but the desire hadn’t as he gentled his touch, dipping his thumb gently into the folds to rub against the hidden entrance, tongue flicking at the round little clit over and over. The toy got wetter and wetter, until it was almost dripping, filling him with delight as he drew back his thumb and a silver strand followed before breaking off.

“I wonder…” he murmured, before taking the clit between his lips, tugging at it lightly and giving it a gentle suck. To his utter delight (and slight horror), he felt a spurt of liquid hit just under his chin and pulled back incredulously, fingers wiping at it and just about biting back incredulous laughter. Did it just squirt? What the hells sort of enchantment is this? Maybe it was an accident? Only one way to find out… He ran his tongue along the length of the toy to gather up more of that sweet nectar, feeling it almost pulse around him, as though trying to coax his tongue deeper, like someone on the brink of orgasm would. The idea of it… both thrilled and disgusted him, but the curiosity burned strong. Despite his best efforts, his tongue alone didn’t seem to be enough, until he shifted to the clit again and this time, he drew it in and sucked on it. Hard.

Well, it definitely wasn’t an accident, Astarion had to conclude as the moment he applied the firm pressure, he felt a spray of liquid warmth erupt along his chin and neck as the little toy actually squirted, each jet coinciding with the pull of his lips. He kept going until he felt the little bud actually retreat from him like a real clit would and chuckled as he pulled back, wiping at his face.

So the little thing had sensitive points, just like a real one. It was truly a wonder of craftsmanship, and Astarion had to admit that it was very, very fun. He wiped his face clean, took the cloth to his little toy as well (he’d rather not find out if that realism extended to other matters) and chuckled as it quivered under the rough material, the clit twitching as he rubbed over it a few times just for fun, before tucking it away. For once, he didn’t feel the self-loathing he usually did after a sexual encounter, if one could call it that. No, he did what he wanted and there was no pain, no compulsion, no obligation, no danger. It was… liberating.

Despite his rushed cleaning job, he figured a dip in nearby river would be beneficial since he was rather sure he smelled like boar and sex, so he left his tent to head down. To his surprise, he heard the faintest sound of splashing and quietened his steps, sneaking down to see the source.

To his surprise, he spotted a very familiar pair of purple pyjamas on one of the rocks and the source of splashing to be none other than a very cold, slightly flushed wizard. Gale had waded into the river up to his waist, shivering from the cold, arms crossed in front of his chest to preserve some semblance of warmth. As Astarion watched, he took a deep breath and dunked his entire body into the cold water for a few seconds, letting out a sigh of relief as he emerged.

“Bit late for a bath, isn’t it, darling?” Astarion drawled. Gale yelped and wheeled around, arms immediately coming up to cover himself like a scandalized maid, much to the spawn’s amusement.

“Astarion! Wha-what are you doing here?” the wizard scowled, stepping further back into the river, hoping the darkness and water would cover him some. Astarion didn’t feel the need to tell him he could see in the dark. Cold and wet was a very good look for the wizard, long tendrils of dark hair dripping water down a lean, surprisingly toned torso. Despite Gale’s efforts, he could ill conceal the broadness of his shoulders, and even less so the fullness of his chest, tapering to a narrow waist. Astarion pictured cupping his pecs from behind him, feeling those hard nipples budding against his palm and, for once, the thought didn’t arouse disgust. In fact… he thinks he might even find it hot.

“Same as you, I think. Though, I was just planning to wash up a bit. I can’t imagine this water is right for a bath, you look positively chilled.” Gale scowled at the tone of mock concern and Astarion bit back a smirk.

“Perhaps I was just looking for some privacy. Not all of us like to show off every inch of skin the Gods have given us.” Gale’s eyes drifted to the low-cut collar of Astarion’s shirt and the spawn raised an eyebrow, a little amused by the bite of the usually placid wizard.

“Shame, dear. I imagine many would like to see all the Gods have given you,” he let his eyes tick down and Gale’s hands immediately went to cover his groin. Though that then left the rest of him exposed and Astarion could now enjoy looking at his tits.

“Astarion,” Gale’s words took on a warning tone, and Astarion was reminded that he may be risking getting staked in the morning: probably best not to piss of what allies he may have.

“Yes, yes, I’m off. Enjoy your midnight swim, but do be careful: it would be a shame if you drowned,” Astarion waggled his fingers in a little wave and turned to walk off, though not without casting a cursory glance to the strewn pajamas.

He could’ve sworn they looked damp.

Notes:

Astarion's having a great day.

Gale... is having a Day.

Chapter 4: Ignorance is Bliss

Summary:

If there's anything Astarion enjoys, its the rush of battle. Though he maybe enjoys it too much...

To Astarion’s great surprise, he was staked nor run out of camp in the morning. Instead, his companions seemed… while not excited, indifferent towards his condition. Gale had warned him off sampling his blood, but Astarion had already been aware something was wrong with him, so he dismissed it. In fact, Astarion might even go far as to say he’s been having a good time.

Part of it was due to his new toy. Now that he knew there were hidden depths – literally – to his new toy, he had spent almost every night exploring its limits. In that time he had discovered a few different things: 1) it very much worked and reacted like an actual cunt 2) There was a lot of magic at play (something he discovered after fitting two fingers into it and seeing them not protrude from the frame) and 3) It was very, very sensitive.

After a few days of nightly play, Astarion fancied himself at expert at using his favourite toy. The best results came from sucking on the clit and fingering it open and he had lost the number of times he had managed to make it squirt. He tried for once every night, but didn’t always succeed, though he was happy for the challenge.

Over time, he was pleased that his general revulsion for sex had started to abate, even though he still had no desire to actually try with another person. Knowing he could do whatever he wanted to his little toy with no repercussions was intoxicating and he pushed it to its limits on a few occasions. One particularly bad night, he was rougher than usual, fingering it harder and pinching the clit almost like he wanted to hurt it. However, that didn’t last very long, some semblance of guilt churning in his gut that made him gentle his touch, almost in apology. He had done nothing else that night, feeling foolish for his feelings towards an inanimate object and had stalked into the woods to take out his aggression on something more deserving. He stalked through the camp, throwing an odd look towards Gale’s tent after walking through the zone of silence around it.

Over time, he started making use of his toy more often and not just confined to the night. The small size of the toy meant it fit easily into one of his many pockets and he prided himself on his quick, subtle hands. It became almost like a stress toy: any time he felt agitated or annoyed, he slipped a hand into his pocket to play with it. It was nothing intense, just a few strokes of fingers along its lips, or a dip of a finger into its hole, or a light rub of a thumb over its clit.

Today, he was annoyed that Tav insisted on helping the tiefling refugees, his own protests outvoted from Gale’s puppy-eyed look to their leader, and Wyll’s agreement on it being the correct course of action. He scowled and plunged his hand into his pocket once the tiefling’s back was turned, rubbing his thumb harshly over his toy’s clit, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

Gale yelped and all three of them turned towards him, Astarion raising an eyebrow as the wizard flushed red. “M-my apologies, I think something stung me…” he swatted at his neck and Astarion was actually amazed at how bad an actor he was. “Must have been a-an insect or something.”

“Probably flew off after it tasted your rancid blood,” Astarion said blandly, smirking as the wizard glared at him.

“We can carry on,” Gale said, ignoring him in favor of Tav, “My apologies for the disruption.”

They continued on and Astarion periodically played with his toy, dipping his fingers into its depths and rubbing at its clit, enjoying the sensation of it subtly hardening under his touch. Gale stumbled in front of him and Wyll hurriedly gripped his arm, voice low with concern as they exchanged words, Gale insisting he was fine, just perhaps feeling a bit under the weather.

“Maybe we should send the wizard back to camp, Tav,” Astarion drawled, “He seems to be a bit jelly-legged at the moment.”

“I’m fine,” Gale bit out, glaring at Astarion. It would have been more effective if his cheeks weren’t red. “I can assure you that I am more than capable of handling myself. You need not concern yourself that I will be a burden.”

“See that you’re not,” the spawn huffed. His eyes caught sight of a troop of goblins approaching and he scowled, nodding his chin in their direction, “we have company!”

As the fight seemed imminent, he reluctantly drew his hand away from his toy, wiping his fingers against his armor before gripping one of his blades. He vanished into the shadows as Tav drew attention to himself, bringing his Warhammer down on one of the goblins and smashing it flat. Wyll knocked back another with an Eldritch blast before skewering one through the shoulder with his rapier.

Gale waved his staff and a blast of concussive energy knocked four encroaching goblins ass over tea kettle, leaving Astarion with easy targets to pick off before they could pick themselves up. The wizard shot him a grin that he returned, animosity temporarily forgotten in the heat of battle.

The goblins were easily taken care of, but the bugbears were harder, and smart enough to cotton on that their most powerful ally was also the most vulnerable. Gale scrambled back from a wildly swinging bugbear, scimitar barely missing his torso, though cutting a slit through the front of his robes. The wizard tripped over one of the goblin corpses strewn on the ground and tipped backwards with a cry. Astarion, hiding behind him, reflexively caught him with one arm as he lunged out from behind the makeshift wizard shield and plunged his dagger right into the bugbear’s throat.

“Now, now, this isn’t the time to fall for me, Gale,” Astarion said, grinning down at him, the joy of battle and bloodlust coursing through him. “I would’ve thought you’d at least wine and dine me first!”

“My apologies,” Gale got out as Astarion hauled him back to his feet, his arm a band of heat against the back of Astarion’s neck and shoulders where he’d gripped him in his fall. “The wine may have to wait, but never let it be said Gale of Waterdeep let a companion go hungry!” With that, he cast Hold Person on the remaining bugbear and turned to Astarion with a cocky grin, “To your health!”

Oh, the wizard definitely had his uses, Astarion thought with glee, pouncing on the bugbear with little aplomb, teeth digging into its neck and gulping down hot, fresh, delicious blood. His wounds healed with each draught, warmth spreading across his body, making him feel strong and invincible. He dropped the drained corpse and rushed back into battle, a full stomach making him faster and deadlier than ever.

Soon enough, they were surrounded by corpses and Astarion felt as happy and content like a well-fed housecat. Tav chose to stop there for a short rest and Astarion was all too happy for it, eager for the chance to laze around for a bit. He wandered a bit further into the trees to find a quiet, private spot and sat down in the cradle of a large tree’s roots: the perfect spot for some privacy, while also allowing him the ability to see without being seen. Tav and Wyll were busy discussing something while Gale sat a few feet away from them, busy making them a light snack with some provisions they’d scavenged.

After licking the blood off his hands, he reached for his toy and drew it out, the thrum of battle still coursing through his veins. To his surprise, despite the lack of stimulation it had received since he spotted the enemy group, his little toy was still slick with arousal.

In fact, he was quite sure that it was wetter than it was before, the clit hard and throbbing in a way he usually only got it after minutes of dedicated fondling. He didn’t think much more about it, simply ran two fingers through its slick before plunging them deep into its cunt.

He heard a yelp from behind him and froze, ears straining. Wyll and Tav had fallen silent and as he craned his head back, he could see Gale sitting bolt upright, face flushed as his hands clenched a roll of bread and a wedge of cheese.

“Are you okay?” Tav said slowly, looking at Gale with a raised eyebrow. The wizard smiled at him shakily and almost shoved the provisions into their leaders’ hands.

“Y-yes, please excuse me!” the wizard almost ran off into the woods, disappearing behind one of the trees. Wyll and Tav exchanged glances before splitting the bread and cheese. Astarion dismissed the odd behavior entirely after feeling how the soft, wet walls around his fingers started to clench around him, squeezing his fingers like it was trying to coax more from him. He chuckled.

“Greedy little thing,” he whispered, teasing it with a third finger. It took some coaxing, but it took it beautifully, rim stretched tight around the width of all three of his fingers as he slowly started to draw them back and forth. His thumb rubbed against its clit and pressed down, coaxing a small bloom of warmth around his fingers. He almost wished he could hear the fruits of his labor, imagining soft moans and desperate whimpers as he plunged his fingers repeatedly into someone’s hot, wet cunt. He craved the power this pleasure could give him, having them desperate and begging him for release…

The figure in his mind started to take shape. A lean, broad-shouldered body trembling beneath him as he trailed his hand along a softly toned stomach and palmed a nice, heavy tit, thumb flicking over the nipple. He spread his fingers and coaxed another hitching moan as hips bucked up into his hand, jerking and bouncing as he thumbed their clit over and over. He drew his fangs up along their sternum, feeling the light brush of wiry hair along his lips as he followed the darkened lines from their chest up to their neck, nipping at a bearded jaw as an eight-pointed star earring poked at his cheek-

Astarion’s eyes squeezed shut and he fucked his fingers into his toy harder and harder and brought his thumb up to press down hard against its clit and it squeezed his fingers hard before squirting all along the front of his armor. The illusory person in his head let out a realistic muffled cry, biting their hand in an effort to stay silent as Astarion continued to fuck into and rub at them mercilessly, drawing out their orgasm and sending them right into a second one, this one even more intense as the cunt around his fingers squeezed like it would rip them off. He pictured narrow hips bouncing desperately against his hand, trying to move away from his fingers, but helpless as he held them in place. He was in charge here, he decided how much pleasure they got, they were done when he decided they were done-

A weak whimper, this one definitely coming from outside his fantasies broke Astarion out of his frenzy. He drew his fingers out, covered in strands of slick that he wiped off on his armor, still covered in blood and guts, before pocketing it and following the sound. He would’ve thought it some wounded animal, until he spotted a hint of purple in the long grass.

“Fuck- Gale!” Astarion shouted, running over towards him. The wizard was curled up on his side, eyes squeezed shut and trembling, hand clapped over his mouth. There were hints of teeth marks on it, indicating he had practically been biting it to keep himself silent. He was flushed and panting, other hand clutching low on his abdomen and Astarion feared poisoning.

“Shit – Wyll! Tav! We need healing!” he called out, trying to roll Gale onto his back, but the wizard just curled up tighter, seemingly still not realizing he was there. The others ran over and Tav immediately knelt down and placed his hand on Gale’s shoulder, sending a wave of healing magic through the wizard. It didn’t seem to help much, but Gale finally blinked his eyes open and looked blearily between the three of them.

“What happened?” Astarion spoke first. The earlier high was gone now, filled with… concern? Since when did he start feeling concerned about people?

“I…” Gale’s voice was hoarse and clearing his throat. “My apologies, I… I’m not sure what came over me. I just felt…” He closed his eyes and swallowed, blinking them open again and he looked more lucid now.

“Apologies, I… one of their weapons might have been poisoned and I didn’t realize… I’m okay.”

“You had us worried, Gale,” Wyll said, squeezing his arm. “Let’s head back to camp, I think we’d all had enough excitement for one day.”

“Right…” Gale pushed himself up into a seated position on trembling arms and stiffened, knees curling together, “Uh, you go ahead and pack up, I’ll join you in a moment once my… once I’m a bit steadier.”

“Okay,” Tav said slowly, standing up and motioning for the others to join him. He fixed Gale with a look, “We’re just a few feet away, okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” Gale said hurriedly, uncharacteristically laconic.

Astarion followed them with one last glance at the wizard, watching as Gale pressed a hand to his chest over the orb, taking a few deep breaths. Once they were packed up, the wizard finally joined them. He had undone the top of his purple robes and bound the sleeves of it around his waist, almost like a half skirt, leaving him in just his white wrap-shirt. He claimed to be feeling too hot for the multiple layers and Astarion was inclined to believe him from the sweat making the back of his shirt almost translucent.

He later spotted Gale at the river trying to get rid of a rather large wet spot on his robes, pants drying next to him.

Chapter 5: Guilt by Omission

Summary:

The Underdark brings it all crumbling down...

Notes:

Mind the updated tags pleaseeeee

Something had changed.

While all of their companions had their quirks, Gale’s had been relatively mild. Aside from a self-professed propensity towards verbosity (and a bomb in his chest), Gale was probably the most normal person in their group, aside from maybe Wyll who was disqualified by virtue of now being a literal devil.

But recently, he had become… subdued.

He no longer slept around the campfire with the others, rather retreated to his tent before anyone else, citing the need for more rest due to not being used to their heightened levels of activity. During outings, he seems constantly on edge and alert, stiffening at the slightest sign of trouble and almost flinching when touched by someone when he wasn’t looking or paying attention. It would’ve been concerning had Astarion actually cared.

By contrast, Astarion was positively cheery. Perhaps he should have been more wary of Raphael’s “gift”, but it had been a Gods-sent gift in a way of letting him start to explore the concept of sex without the immediate disgust that came with it. It had also done wonders for his libido, now that he could enjoy the endorphins without the nausea, self-hatred and disgust that usually followed such pleasure.

So of course, it couldn’t last. The Underdark would have been beautiful once, had the vampire not finally been reunited with the sun. And of course as soon as he finally stopped flinching at seeing the sunrise, they had descended into a dark, cavernous pit where no light had reached for millennia. In addition, there was limited space to make camp, so they were practically on top of each other, which meant no stress-relief with his precious toy.

It made him agitated, his wit even more biting than usual, to the point that most of the party members were giving him a wide berth. He’d practically bitten Gale’s head off in response to one of the wizard’s cheerful rambles about the “impressive array of fungi” in the Underdark, and Lae’zel of all people had intervened on Gale’s behalf. After that, Gale stuck to Wyll’s side, who nodded along to his commentary, even if he wasn’t always listening.

One night, Astarion finally decided to risk it. They’d found a cave that allowed them more room to lay tents in, and his tent partner was Gale, who was notoriously the heaviest sleeper of all of them. Astarion had slaughtered a boar right next to his tent before, and all Gale had said about it was a morning hankering for sausages.

Once the camp fell silent as everyone retired to bedrolls, Astarion did one quick sweep of the area before retreating to his own tent, pulling the flaps closed. The only sounds were the crackling of the campfire, Gale’s light snoring, and the occasional drip of water somewhere in the caverns. He rummaged into his pack to pull out his delightful toy, grinning as he ran a finger along the outer lip.

“Oh hello darling,” he murmured, “How I’ve missed you.”

He was pent up enough to want to shove his dick into those marvellous folds without any preamble, but he wasn’t quite ready for that step yet, though he came closer with every use. Instead he held it carefully in his hands, and let his thumbs trace along the outer lips, gentle pulling them apart to let him see further into its depths. Whoever had crafted the object had done a marvellous job, and Astarion was surprised to feel a hint of desire to see such craftsmanship between a pair of blood-warm thighs. Despite its lifelike feel, it didn’t quite replicate the heat and intimacy that its real-life counterpart would embody.

Still, it was safe, and pleasurable, which was all he wanted right now. He dipped his thumbs further into the folds to part them more and leaned down to dip his tongue into the warm hole in the middle.

His sensitive ears caught a hitch of breath coming from Gale’s tent and he immediately pulled back, tense and wary. He listened for any sign of danger, of Gale rousing, but after a few long seconds, maybe minutes, his breathing settled back into sleep again. Astarion exhaled in relief, then turned back to his fun.

His favorite part of the enchantment was the illusion of wet warmth that the toy projected. As he turned down to lick at it again, it felt like he was exploring an actual cunt, the central hole getting wetter and wetter with each swipe of his tongue. He imagined his partner, the bearer of this wonderful flower, writhing underneath him, tilting their hips up to accept his tongue like the blessing it was. He ate them out like he was ravenous, drinking in their slick juices and humming as they emitted more and more.

He was lost to the sensation now, shoving his face into the toy ravenously, feeling wetness smear on his cheeks and chin, grateful for the first time he didn’t need to breathe. His nose nudged the small, rubbery clit at the top and a small, stifled cry finally broke through his reverie.

The vampire pulled back abruptly, heart sinking as he strained his ears to pick up the sound again. Then it came to his ears: the softest sound of someone panting, shuddery exhales, muffled like someone was covering their mouth. He turned his head to follow the sound and scowled once he realized the source.

“Gods fucking damn it,” he muttered to himself, glaring at Gale’s tent, “If that gods damned wizard is about to start scribbling into the night, I’m going to knock him out.” Astarion growled and, just to vent his frustration, flicked the clit of the toy. Hard.

He jumped at the sound of the cry that emitted from Gale, half to his feet, toy discarded for the moment as he crept over to the wizard’s tent. He pulled the flap back and the wizard yelped, turning away, curling up with his hand covering something at his front. “Astarion-! What in the world are you-”

“Me? What the hells are you doing?” the vampire scowled once he realized there was no danger. “I heard you shout-“

“I-it was nothing, just a b-bad dream,” Gale got out, craning his head over his shoulder to look at him. His face was oddly red. “I- I apologize for disturbing you, it won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” Astarion huffed. “I’d like to get my required 4 fours of beauty sleep, if you don’t mind.”

“Right, apologies again,” Gale said hurriedly, “N-now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep-”

The vampire didn’t want for the rest of the request, dropping the flaps of the tent to crawl back into his own. He wasted no time before picking up his toy and plunging his tongue back into it.

He pulled back and whipped his head around with a glare at another muffled sound from the other side of the tent and was about to throw a book against it when something… churned at the bottom of his stomach. The niggling of an idea that he dismissed immediately, but couldn’t shake off, the thought pushing him to shift closer to their shared ‘wall’. He could hear Gale breathing, shuddering breaths that he was obviously trying to muffle.

He pressed his finger into the slick opening and heard Gale exhale sharply, the smallest whimper escaping him as soft, warm walls clenched around his cold finger. He crooked it upwards to lightly drag his nail along the silken chute and Gale’s breath hitched. The dread in the spawn’s stomach started to pool faster, almost like a cramp. He pressed another finger into the toy and Gale mewled, pleading in a soft voice for release, begging for understanding from someone, anyone… pleading for it to stop.

The dread was quickly turning into horror, but he couldn’t… he had to be sure, he had to be… it couldn’t be possible, there’s no way magic like this could exist… could it? A different kind of desperation filled Astarion as he steeled himself, prayed to whatever God may be listening that he was wrong… and pinched the clit hard.

His eyes closed at the immediate, warbling cry from Gale, hearing him thrash and heart sinking as his fears were confirmed. Of course he couldn’t have something good for once, of course there was a catch. What did he expect from trusting a Gods-damned devil? Something precious for something precious, what a load of bullshit. Of course Raphael had neglected to mention that the something precious was connected to Gale’s fucking body.

He immediately pulled his fingers away and barely restrained himself from throwing the accursed thing into the campfire. He had no idea how much of it Gale could feel, if it could hurt him- it certainly could pleasure him. He shuddered at another low moan from Gale and looked down to realize his thumb was absently stroking the red and abused clit, automatically soothing it from the discomfort he had just inflicted, and the nausea, something he had just begun to disassociate from sexual pleasure, arose in him again.

His mind flashed to every damn time he had made use of his toy- no, of Gale. He had fingered him, licked him out, fucked him, hells he had violated him over and over and been gleeful of it. He had enjoyed every damn minute of it, had delighted in how responsive it- he was. Every night he had taken his pleasure from Gale, the wizard had been suffering in his tent, feeling phantom sensation breaching his most private places, unable to stop it or even understand what was happening.

How often had Gale gone to bed, dreading the sensations that would course through him in his sleep, even wake him up? How often had Astarion played with his toy- with Gale’s body as they adventured together? Gale had dismissed any concerns about his strange behaviour and Astarion had scoffed, chalking it up to his absurdities, before gleefully taking pleasure in tormenting him. It didn’t matter than he hadn’t known of the connection, it had been his hands that had caused the suffering Gale had endured. And for once, he did not relish in the idea of it.

Gale’s breathing picked up from the other side of the tent, breaking Astarion out of his spiral momentarily. He could hear the rhythmic shifting and the faintest hint of wetness and realized that Gale was… Gale was…

He should move away. He should find a safe place and hide that horrifying violation so that no one would ever find it again, ever touch it again. He should go next door and beg for Gale’s forgiveness and explain everything. He should… he should…

He should not sit and listen to the low sounds of desperate pleasure from the other side. He should not watch the wet hole in front of him expand and contract as its owner fingered himself, desperate for release. He shouldn’t think about how much he wants to go over to the other side and replace those long talented fingers with his own, fingerfuck the actual, warm body and watch him fall apart around him. He shouldn’t be picturing biting into Gale’s neck as one hand cupped his pec and thumbed over his nipple, while the other rubbed his clit in small circles with an edge of roughness to it, something that never failed to get him wet. He shouldn’t be imaging Gale impaled on his cock, crying out from one orgasm, only to squirm and plead Astarion for more as he pounded him into another and another-

He shouldn’t be picking up Gale’s cunt and taking his clit between his lips to help bring him off in the way he now knows he really likes.

He shouldn’t be doing any of this, Astarion thinks as his ears are filled with Gale’s desperate gasps as he squirts on Astarion’s neck and chest, but he doesn’t know how to stop.

Notes:

Look who finally succeeded his perception check.

Chapter 6: The Telltale Heart

Summary:

The aftermath

Notes:

TW for Gale's canoncial suicidal thoughts about the orb. It gets knocked out of him quick enough.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch it again.

Once the shock and horror of his discovery had worn off, he had stuffed the accursed thing into one of his packs and tried to forget it even existed. He couldn’t look Gale in the eyes anymore, the intense feelings of guilt and self-directed revulsion almost too much to bear. The wizard himself didn’t seem to notice much, though Astarion caught him looking his way with a frown a few times.

He didn’t know what to do, what to say. What could be said? How would he even begin to explain the whole situation without humiliating himself, or revealing far too much? No, it would be better to just ignore the whole thing. He wouldn’t touch that damned object again and Gale could soon forget about the whole thing, maybe passing it off as another quirk of the orb.

He was happy to do what he did best and just ignore the entire matter. It was easy when there was so much happening that demanded greater focus: the myconid colony and the adamantium forge, the trip to the Creche, the venture into the Shadowlands…

A suicide charge from a Goddess.

Astarion had nearly stabbed the blathering old fool in the neck, held back only by the promise of the charm to settle Gale’s orb. Then he’d nearly stabbed that insufferable purple, doe-eyed bastard for spouting all that nonsense about sacrifice and the greater good. He’d almost blown his own cover with a scathing remark of Gale clearly having had his brains fucked out for even considering such an inane demand, but he bit it back hard enough to make his own lip bleed. Instead, he stormed off and ignored the wizard thoroughly for the next few days. He would not waste his breath on a walking corpse.
That would’ve been easier if Gale didn’t occupy almost every moment of his thoughts.

Astarion didn’t know what had changed. Maybe it was just the after effect of his earlier… fun, but it became harder and harder to keep his mind off the wizard. He figured it was some fucked-up remnant from his enjoyment of his ‘toy’ that he had started to associate Gale with the feelings his experiments invoked, but it didn’t take long for them to be soured with the memory that Gale had not – couldn’t have – consented to whatever had been happening.

Maybe this was his way of making up for it: even if he couldn’t take back his actions, he could at least keep the blowhard from dying at the whims of a caustic Goddess.

It had nothing to do with the fact that the idea of Gale dying made something sour in his stomach.

That was Astarion’s belief, and he was going to stick with it until they found this ‘Heart’ of the Absolute and destroyed it, sans one wizard bomb.

So of course, Gale would complicate things.

“Astarion?” a soft whisper from his tent flaps after everyone had settled in for bed. Astarion himself was lounging on his bedroll, staring at the ceiling and indulging in his current favourite pastime of plotting how he was going to kill Raphael the next time he saw him. He was currently thinking ‘covered in honey and buried next to an ant hill’.

“What is it, wizard?” he drawled, making no effort to move, hoping Gale would take the hint and just leave. There was a long pause, enough that he wondered if Gale had misty-stepped away, but then there was a shuffle and another quiet whisper, “May I come in please?”

The spawn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Fine. Make it quick, though I know that’s difficult for you. Ten words or less if you please.”

Gale sighed, audible even from outside his tent, “Never mind, apologies for disturbing you.”

Ordinarily, Astarion would’ve rejoiced in managing to get under the wizard’s skin, but recent events had caused the thought to settle heavy in his stomach. Even if Gale didn’t know he had wronged him, Astarion felt the need to do… something. What an awful feeling. “Oh fine, don’t pout about it. Come on in.”

A pause and then Gale was gently moving the flaps on his tent out of the way to enter. It was a bit of a tight squeeze and Astarion generously shifted his legs a few inches to the side to let Gale sit down. He took the few moments as Gale gathered what to say to look at the wizard properly for the first time in weeks.

He looked infuriatingly good, though he always did, whether it was first thing in the morning and he was about to walk into the campfire in search of coffee, or while smothered in ichor after a battle. Despite the purple bruises under his eyes that spoke of restless nights and the general sallowness to his skin that came from being immersed in cursed darkness, he still looked… good.

Astarion wasn’t sure when the base attraction had turned into something… more than.

“We’ve not been on very good terms lately,” Gale finally said, looking down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting slightly. “Ever since…”

“Since you agreed to kill yourself and everyone in a ten mile radius for the dangling carrot of forgiveness from your ex-girlfriend? No, I imagine we haven’t been.” There was more than a little acid in his voice and Astarion tried to tone it down when Gale flinched. Gods, he really was becoming soft, how disgusting. “You can’t still be seriously considering it.”

“I must admit, I’m surprised at your recalcitrance,” Gale said, looking up at him with a little frown. “This is more expediate, most assured course of action that we have. The orb has enough power to level a city, surely it will be enough to eradicate this ‘Heart’-“

“You really cannot be this stupid,” Astarion snarled, pushing himself up. “It might guarantee victory, but at what Gods damn cost? Have you even once considered how this will affect anyone except you?”

“I’ll make sure you’re all clear of the blast radius,” Gale says, infuriatingly earnest. “You need not die with me, I won’t allow it. Once we find the Heart, I’ll go at it alone erase it from this world. You’ll be free-”

“And you’ll be dead!” his hand shot out to grab a handful of that purple velvet, yanking Gale closer. The wizard’s eyes widened and his hand came up reflexively to grasp Astarion’s wrist, but he made no effort to free himself or to even begin casting a spell. Whether it was trust or a complete and utter lack of survival instinct, it only incensed the spawn more.

“You’ve talked a lot about Mystra’s will, but about Gale’s will? Does that not come into it? You keep talking about how no one must die, but you will die! Has that sunk into your head, you obstinate buffoon? You will die!” He yanked him closer, almost nose to nose. “And you are an even bigger fool than I thought if you think that will hurt no one here.”

Gale’s eyes had always been expressive, something Astarion had gleefully seen as a weakness once, an avenue to exploit. He could see how Gale reacted to his actions and words, found that kindness and understanding brought a shine to them while malice and callousness made them darken. He’d practically shone with pride when they’d helped the tieflings, and been tremendously saddened when he’d seen the corpses lining the roads in the Shadowlands. He’d never have survived even a week under Cazador’s thumb… and at some point that intrusive thought had turned from one of derision to fear.

Right now, he could see the conflict in them, tearing their bearer in two internally. The desire to obey his Goddess and save his friends, and the desire to preserve his own life when he had only just found people who cared about him as much as he did them.

“Without you, Lae’zel would have no one to discuss Githyanki culture with,” Astarion said, voice softening against his will. He couldn’t even tell if it was intentional or not. “Karlach wouldn’t have anyone making her dishes from her childhood. Wyll wouldn’t have someone who looks at him and sees a hero first, and horns second.”

He saw Gale’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and he loosened his grip on his shirt, settling his hand on his chest instead, fingertips brushed the marks of the orb.

“Shadowheart wouldn’t have someone who understands what its like to be torn between your faith and your own beliefs. Halsin wouldn’t have someone who challenges him when he gets too stuck in his beliefs. You matter to all of them. And much more than you do to Mystra.”

“Astarion…” Gale’s voice shook. The spawn snatched his hand back and looked away. “I-”

“Don’t be stupid enough to throw your life away for someone who couldn’t even be bothered to ask for your sacrifice herself,” he growled. “You have far too much else to live for. And I’ll kill you myself if you ever say this to anyone else but… I don’t want to see you die either.”

“Can I hug you?” Gale blurted out. The shock of it was enough to have Astarion gaping at him, broken out of his dark thoughts.

“You- what?”

“Can I hug you?” Gale repeated, looking at him with wide brown doe eyes, brimming with tears close to falling. It almost made Astarion panic because fuck he broke the wizard but he was still hung up on the most bizarre request he had ever heard. People asked if they could kiss him, if they could sleep with him, and, in one bizarrely memorable moment, if they could paint him like some Cormyr girl, but hug him? Who the hell looked at him and saw something they wanted to embrace?

“It’s okay if the answer is no, but I’d… I would like to, with your consent.”

Gale could have staked him and it would’ve hurt less than his words, even if he had no idea the weight they carried. Every past night of using his perverted toy came back to him, enjoying himself with indulgence as Gale suffered merely feet away, unnoticed by everyone. He wanted to say no, didn’t want anyone to touch him, he didn’t deserve to be touched but… Gale deserved something. Some recompense, some justice, some revenge for the perversions and violations that Astarion had unthinkingly inflicted upon him. This would be a small price to pay… even though he didn’t want to pay it like this.

“Yes.”

He expected it to hurt, somehow. Expected it to be horrible, violating, disgusting, just as every other time he had ever been touched by anyone in the last two centuries before the tadpole made it so he could never be compelled again. Gale shifted closer and leaned in, arms slowly sliding around Astarion’s shoulders, one brushing over his ribs as it made to settle on his back, over his scars-

It didn’t.

It didn’t hurt.

It wasn’t horrible. Or violating. Or disgusting.

It was… good.

The angle was a bit awkward, they were sitting a bit too far apart and Gale’s face pressed into his shoulder was a bit wet, his hair tickling Astarion’s nose in a way that would’ve made him sneeze if he needed to breathe. But his arms were warm, his grip firm, but not confining. He smelt like lavender and sandalwood, a hint of smoke from the campfire. He was a warm, warm weight against him and it felt…

It felt good.

He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Or rather, what to do with them that wasn’t grasping his ass or hips or cupping his face and drawing him closer. What did people do in such a… non-sexy situation? Maybe he was supposed to copy him? He tentatively placed his hands on Gale’s back, trying to keep a respectful distance from any… tawdry parts. It couldn’t have been comfortable or even good, but Gale just sighed and snuggled closer.

Astarion is sure that if it hadn’t been for the lack of sustenance in this Godsforsaken land, he’d be blushing with borrowed blood as he carefully curled his arms further around the soft, warm weight against him. Indulged, just for a moment, to let his own face rest against Gale’s shoulder, unconsciously rubbing his face into the soft velvet a bit. This was… why in the Hells did people not do this more often?

Faster than he liked, he felt Gale’s arms shift from around him and immediately drew his own back, clearing his throat as the wizard drew back, eyes a bit red. “That was… not horrible.”

Gale chuckled. It was a small thing, but genuine. “What every man wants to hear after a cry on a friend’s shoulder, I suppose.” His smile was warm, like sunlight. “Thank you, Astarion. I… You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. And for indulging a foolish wizard’s whims. I hope I didn’t cause you any discomfort.”

“No more than- no.” Gods, when did he turn into a blushing maiden? It was a Godsdamned hug! “I hope that’s knocked some sense into you. I’ll do it literally if I hear another word about you blowing up.

“No, no, I… I think you’ve given me some much-needed perspective,” Gale said with a small laugh. “And some desperately needed comfort. Thank you, Astarion. Sincerely. I must impress upon you that my tent is always open should you ever need anything. Even if it is just to relentlessly mock my decoration aesthetic.”

“You absolutely do not need to be lugging a bloody telescope around, darling, that’s just excessive.”

“Ah, but is it when it gets regular use? I helped us find our way a few nights ago!”

“It was a straight line from the Creche to here, Gale. Karlach could’ve charted that path.”

“Oh, and please do explain the need for eight blankets, Astarion? Don’t try to excuse it, I know for a fact you only had one when we picked you up!”

“Well, it's not like the people I took them from would ever need it. Are you fishing for an invite?”

Gale flushed and chuckled, shaking his head, “Alright, alright, I know when I’m beaten. I’ll leave you and your penchant for large woollen coverings be.” He stood up with a wince, shifting to stretch out his knees and back. “Goodnight Astarion, may you have only pleasant dreams tonight.”

“I will if I see you in them,” Astarion said with a wink, that old pattern of harmless flirting slipping back into place between them as though it had never left. Gale laughed and shook his head, turning back to head towards his tent, leaving with a last smile towards the spawn.

Astarion watched him leave and then flopped back down onto his bedroll. He brought a hand up to his shoulder, still warm and damp from tears, the scent of lavender and sandalwood lingering in his tent.

He had never felt so warm.

Notes:

So this is the end of what I've written so far, though the next chapter is in progress. Updates will be slower as I figure out where I want the story to go from here!

(It was supposed to be a kinkmeme porn fill, how did it end up like this?)

Chapter 7: For Better or Worse

Summary:

Astarion flirts with the wizard, meets a drow and makes a choice.

Things had changed.

Astarion usually hung around Gale because he was the most fun to tease and make fluster and later because he had the most books he was willing to share, but lately things had been… different.

Now when he hovered around the camp’s cook, he was met with questions about how his vampire senses interpreted taste and scent rather than a suspicious glance at his hands. When they went into battle, he had magic at his back, whether it was a quickly thrown up shield, or a barrage of magic missiles at his foes. Reading quietly into the night had become reading quietly together, Astarion occasionally scoffing at the triteness of some of Gale’s more pleasurable reading while the wizard scribbled down his notes.

Having a friend was strange.

Knowing that your friend had very sensitive private bits was even stranger.

Some days, Astarion could forget what had led them to this point. Could forget that he knew exactly what Gale’s cunt looked like, tasted like, felt like, what Gale himself sounded like, what got him off the fastest. Could forget that some days, good ones, he almost wanted to sample the real thing.

But more than that, he really wanted another hug.

However, those were dangerous thoughts. Gale would surely never want to embrace him when he was in his right mind and not spiralling with thoughts of his supposedly-imminent demise or emotional from carefully chosen, yet truthful words.

It was odd as this was what Astarion should have wanted. He should have wanted Gale to be malleable, soft. To have him broken down so that he could be built up the way Astarion wanted, needed. He knew how the wizard worked now. A few soft words, soft touches and the wizard would do anything he wanted. Gale would die, kill, sacrifice everything and anything for someone he cared for. Astarion knew he now counted among those.

So what stopped him from pushing the advantage?

The thought stayed with him as they approached Moonrise Towers. Even in the dark, hopeless expanses of the land, the tower stuck out like a monolith of despair. None of the moonlanterns surrounding the
structure could mask the death and despair that radiating from every stone.

His companions seemed to feel the same, sticking close as they walked through the corridors to their unknown doe: the immortal Ketheric Thorm. Karlach was buzzing with restless energy as Tav tried to keep their face blank, but Astarion was perceptive enough to see the nerves there as they strode through the lions den.

He turned his eyes towards Gale and his lips thinned. The wizard’s jaw was clenched tightly enough to make the muscle bulge, eyes wide and nostrils flaring with quickened breaths. He looked uncharacteristically nervous, maybe even… frightened. His grip on his wooden staff was tight enough that his knuckles were white and there was an imperceptible shake to his hands.

Gale caught his gaze and consciously seemed to relax, some of the tension escaping him, but the vampire couldn’t be fooled. He raised an eyebrow and Gale met his gaze unflinchingly, but soon sighed and slowed down a bit to add some distance between them and the others.

“It’s here,” he murmured to Astarion, voice low, just a little hoarse. “I can feel it. The Heart is near.”

If Astarion’s heart did beat, it would surely have skipped one at that. He looked around, trying to see anything out of the ordinary, but nothing stood out, just a seemingly endless sea of fanatics.

“Well, we’ll be sure to give a good stabbing and then return to the camp for a delightful stew. Made by you, of course,” Astarion batted his eyelashes at him, “You wouldn’t leave us to dine on, ugh, Wyll’s creations, would you? The man can make a fine roast, but he wouldn’t know the intricacies of fine dining if it bit him. Amusing, considering his noble background.”

Gale cracked a smile, small but genuine, “You have very strong opinions for the one who cannot indulge in either of our efforts.”

“Yes, my greatest regret,” Astarion sighed dramatically, “To watch everyone else indulge in gourmet delicacies while I starve and sustain my self on goblins and kobolds. And the occasional cultist.”

“Truly, we have neglected you greatly,” Gale said dryly, but his eyes had lost that haunted glaze they’d gotten when they’d first entered the Towers. “I would let you indulge in my own vintage crimson, were I not quite confident it would make you positively ill.”

“Such a shame too,” Astarion purred, sidling up to him, only partially paying attention to Tav speaking to some half-Orc and looking over a bunch of terrified goblins. “I always felt that your blood would have a rich depth to it… rich and refined, like a well-aged brandy.”

“Oh?” Perhaps it was due to their location amidst the stronghold of their enemy, the impending face-off against the source of their tadpoles, or maybe just the spawn’s proximity, but Astarion could hear Gale’s heart race a bit, each thump signalling the hurried coursing of lifegiving, sadly foul-tasting blood that was pooling in the wizard’s cheeks. “Well, that’s quite… flattering. I’m afraid to disappoint, but as you know, I taste incredibly bitter, because of-“

“Yes, yes the orb, blah blah blah,” Astarion internally rolled his eyes. He ticked a look over at their audience, most of them focused on Ketheric who was speaking to the goblins. But most of his attention was on the searching gaze being directed at him from the warmest pair of doe eyes he’d ever seen. Gods, this fucking wizard truly was ruining him.

“I’m sure the rest of you tastes perfect,” the words came out without any input from his brain seemingly and Gale’s blush turned into an inferno, the wizard’s cheeks so red, they could be mistaken for apples. Astarion was glad he couldn’t blush or he’s sure he would be just as bad. It was horrible enough that he couldn’t stop remembering the taste of the wizard on his tongue, ripe and sweet like what he imagined those juicy berries they found on the Mountain Path tasted like. Even more intoxicating than blood and far more addicting. He saw the wizard’s eyes tick down to his lips and resisted the urge to lick them, fighting even harder against the urge to lick his.

Thankfully, the moment was broken by Ketheric Thorm being really fucking unkillable.

Gods damn it.

With that uncomfortable bit of information, they split up to explore the stronghold, Tav and Karlach heading down to the dungeons to see if they could find the missing tieflings as Astarion and Gale explored the main floor. Gale, academic savant (nerd) that he was, was immediately drawn over to a drow woman with an alchemical set up and had drawn her into a lengthy discussion about her practise with what she called the sanguine arts. Normally, Astarion would’ve been all for that discussion, but something about the way the woman looked at him made him feel… uncomfortable. He instead chose to skulk around the room and explore for supplies as they spoke.

His attention was drawn but the strong smell of blighted blood, familiar blood, and he wheeled around, hand dropping to his dagger. His jaw dropped slightly as he watched Gale happily exchanged his fucking blood for what looked like a potion. Gods damn it, he really couldn’t keep his eyes off this fucking wizard, could he?

“All your best traits in a bottle. Use it well,” the drow woman said, pressing the small bottle into the wizard’s palm. Her eyes ticked up as Astarion indignantly stomped up besides him. “Although, there is perhaps something else we could discuss.”

“Oh?” Gale seemed oblivious to her hungry gaze, though Astarion wasn’t, a sinking feeling in his gut. “If it’s in regards to the recent research paper about the hidden potential of blood magic-”

“Not that,” the drow waved dismissively. “Your friend. He’s a vampire, no? A spawn at least.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Astarion said, drawing on experience to pour all the charm and smarm he could into his voice, “We’re all friends under the Absolute! I won’t bite.”

A lascivious grin drew across the drow’s face, “Oh, I was rather hoping you would.”

Astarion just gaped at her and he could see Gale doing the same in his peripheral. “My apologies,” the wizard said slowly, “you want to be bitten? You do realize it bloody hurts?”

Astarion wanted to step on the wizard’s bloody foot for indicating he’d bitten him, truth be damned. He did want this bloody woman to know anything more than she seemed to already.

“I’ve dreamt of it since I was a little girl,” the drow said and Astarion finally clocked that look in her eye, one of pure fervent desire, almost maniacal. “To feel your life slipping from you… to dance on the edge of life and death? Of course I want it. And you will give it to me.”

“Excuse me?” Astarion sputtered, still unable to believe the nonsense he was hearing. It was starting to remind him of some of the servants in Cazador’s manor, the ones who pledged themselves to slavery for the chance of immortal life. None had ever succeeded. “Regardless, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

The drow’s expression turned into annoyance and she turned her gaze to Gale. “I assume he belongs to you?”

“Pardon?” Gale blinked and narrowed his eyes. “He’s his own person, you know. He belongs to no one.”

The drow continued to drone, but Astarion’s gaze shot to Gale and stayed there. He was dimly aware of the drow attempting to bargain, offering them a potion that would increase their strength, make them more powerful. Surely now, Gale would tell him to bite her. Surely now, he would convince Astarion that the momentary discomfort would be worth every advantage they could get against the Absolute. Surely now, Gale would realize that this was a chance to improve their changes of defeating the Absolute without him having to die in the process. Surely now, Gale would realize that his life was worth more than a useless, weak spawn’s comfort-

“Astarion?” The vampire spawn flinched and blinked, drawn out of his own thoughts to meet a pair of soft, brown doe eyes, looking at him with concern. This was it. He owed it to Gale. A small bit of discomfort was little price to pay to make up for what he had done to wizard for weeks, even if the latter was unaware of it.

“Sorry, darling, what did you say?” a paltry attempt to buy some time, to steel himself for what was to come. He could do this, he had done so before. A small bite, and then it would be over-

“Can you excuse us for a moment?” Gale didn’t want for the drow to respond, instead he moved away to the other side of the room. Astarion followed him in a daze, waiting for the blow-

“I asked what you wanted to do,” Gale said, voice soft. “She’s offered the potion in exchange, and it does sound useful, but I don’t like… what she’s asking. However, she’s asked it of you, so I wanted to ask what you want to do.”

“What?” Astarion said faintly. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Gale was supposed to tell him to bite her, to cope with the discomfort and disgust for the greater good. This was- none of this was-

“It’s your choice,” Gale said, firmly, the words cutting through Astarion’s frenzied thoughts. “You don’t have to bite her if you don’t want to, potion be damned.”

“You can’t be serious,” Astarion said, looking at him like he had lost his mind. Maybe the orb’s effects had spread to his brain. Gale was emotional and kind, but also pragmatic. Surely he knew the benefits of the potion outweighed the means to get it. “I should- we could really use that potion and I- it would just be a small thing-”

“It’s not a small thing,” Gale insisted. “And none of that matters. It’s a simple question, Astarion. Do you want to bite her: yes or no?”

Simple? What about any of this was simple? Of course he didn’t want to bite her, but surely there was more to it? Could it truly be that simple? Could he just… say no?

“I…” Astarion didn’t know what to say. Gale just kept looking at him with those damned eyes, his hand making an aborted movement to reach out to touch Astarion’s, though he didn’t’ make contact. Astarion didn’t know if he wished he had, or if he was grateful he didn’t.

“You’re a free man, Astarion,” Gale murmured, “You make your own choices, for better or worse. You can what you want to do, and I will support you with whatever decision you make.”

Astarion stared at him. This was… this couldn’t be… he must be in a dream. A trance. He’s going to wake up and find himself back in his tomb, clawing his way to freedom and failing with each broken nail. People weren’t like this, people weren’t like Gale…

But the wizard is in front of him, looking at him with those damnable eyes… and Astarion feels the word come to his lips.

“No.”

He looks over to the drow and takes a slow step, then another and another, until he’s facing her again, Gale’s presence at his shoulder. Just standing by.

“No,” he growled at her, fists clenched at his sides. “I refuse.”

“Excuse me?” the drow looked at him with contempt. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you’re squandering it!” She looked at Gale, “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

“I believe I told you already that he is his own man and he has given you his answer,” Gale said in a cold tone Astarion had never heard from him before. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we must be leaving. Good luck with your research.”

Gale turned and walked away, and Astarion followed a second later. He still felt the adrenaline running through him, along with the fury and disgust that always churned through him when someone aimed to use him. Now that he was away from her, the target of his churning emotions became himself. He knows he would have done it, had Gale asked. He would’ve fought down his disgust, the nausea, the fear of the effects of her vile blood that he could smell even more across the room and done exactly what Gale would’ve told him to. Obeyed him, like he once obeyed his master. It felt like no matter how far he went, he would always look for a master to command him-

“Astarion?” a quiet voice broke through his reverie. They were no longer in the tower, instead outside on the path with an endless dark expanse of water before them. Gale was looking at him with concern Astarion felt was undeserved, and the words came tumbling out. “Why?”

“Why what?” Gale blinked. The anger in Astarion found a target.

“Why in the hells did you tell her no?” he gritted out.

“Wha- I thought you didn’t want to bite her!” Gale protested.

“I didn’t!” Astarion shouted, wincing at the hysteria he could hear in his own voice, but he couldn’t control it right now. His façade was crumbling and he couldn’t even start to care. “But we could’ve used that potion! It would have made us stronger, made you stronger, so why the fuck didn’t you tell me to bite her?!”

“Because you said you didn’t want to!” Gale said, bewildered. “What did you want me to do, force you to drink from her? That would have been a gross violation of your person, Astarion! I- nothing is worth that. No potion, no weapon, nothing.”

“What if we could have used that potion to defeat the Absolute without sacrificing you?” Astarion hissed. “Are you that Gods-damned determined to die, that you would lose such an advantage-”

“I don’t care!” Gale hissed back, startling Astarion into silence. “I don’t care if that bloody potion would have turned me into a God, you. Said. No. As far as I’m concerned, the conversation ended with that. I don’t understand why you are angry with me about it!”

“I’m not angry at you!” Astarion said angrily, “But that was an objectively stupid decision, and you made it just because I was a little uncomfortable? We can’t afford to be weak like that-”

A flash of hurt crossed Gale’s face and it took the wind out of Astarion’s sails, figuratively. But the wizard drew himself up with a stubborn set of his jaw, looking Astarion in the eyes without backing down.

“I don’t care if you thought that was weak of me,” Gale said, voice low. “If you think we need the potion so badly, you can go back and bite her, but that is your decision to make, not mine. It’s your body, Astarion, you choose what to do or not to do with it. But do not call me weak for respecting your autonomy and your choices. If that makes me weak, so be it. I will happily be weak, but I won’t allow myself to turn into a monster, no matter what hand life has dealt me.”

Gale deemed the conversation finished and turned to head back into the Tower, leaving Astarion staring, stunned, at his back. He paused before the door, turning back.

“You are your own man, Astarion,” he murmured, so quiet, only elf ears could’ve heard him. “What you do with your freedom is your choice, no one else’s. Certainly not mine.”

With that, he disappeared back into the bowels of the Tower, leaving Astarion in his wake, gut churning with familiar and unfamiliar feelings.

Notes:

Apologies for the long wait but work kicked my ass. The plot continues!

Chapter 8: Words Said and Unsaid

Summary:

Astarion makes the best worst decision of his life.

They get the tieflings out and sail across the lake towards the Inn. Astarion can hear the others speaking to the former captives in low murmurs, Gale sitting with the two siblings of that idiotic amateur wizard who had yelled at him for being “too heroic”, reassuring them that their brother was safe and would be happy to see them.

They’d managed to get them out with some effort, most of it on Gale’s part as he used spell after spell to cover their exit while Astarion, Karlach and Tav took care of any witnesses. Gale was a bit pale in the darkness, likely from exhaustion, but he was smiling and looking lighter than he had in days, no doubt thanks to their successful rescue mission.

Astarion, meanwhile, was still trying to make sense of their interaction from earlier. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Had it truly been so simple? He could have just said ‘no’? He knows, logically, that it wouldn’t have mattered back then, before the tadpole, but now… it makes him sick to think about how despite his boasting about his freedom, he had never stopped thinking about himself as a slave. He had been indignant that Gale hadn’t forced him to debase himself for the party’s needs, Gods, how pathetic was he?

Once they reached safety and their freed captives were declared tadpole-free, Astarion went straight to the bar to nab one of the expensive bottles of wine and then find a quiet place to drink in. He could hear the sounds of celebration and merriment, the tiefling wizard yelling at his siblings and the tearful reunion of the tiefling couple in the distance.

It didn’t make him as sick as he expected it to.

“I thought you’d be hiding somewhere, my elusive friend,” an amused voice rang out from the door and he turned to see Gale peeking through with a small smile on his lips. “Are you in the mood for some intellectual company or shall I close the door and inform that raucous lot that you are indisposed?”

“I’d never say no to your company, darling,” Astarion said automatically, then cringed a bit at his own reflexive flirting. “Ugh, I’m too sober for… whatever this is.”

“This is?” Gale said, walking in and leaving his staff leaning against the wall, taking a seat next to him on the bed and holding his hand out for the wine bottle that Astarion passed obligingly. “I’d say this is two friends getting pleasantly inebriated after a very successful rescue mission.”

Astarion snorted. “Friends, are we?”

“I’d like to think so,” Gale shrugged, taking a swig from the bottle. “Haven’t you had friends before, Astarion?”

“I’ve had plenty,” the spawn retorted, “What, did you imagine someone as popular and fashionable as I-” he cut himself off. Even he was cringing at his own bullshit now. “Ugh. You know what, I can’t be fucked. No, none that I can remember anyway.”

“I see.” Gale’s tone was consciously neutral, and Astarion appreciated it. He might have bitten the wizard, bile blood be damned, if he had looked at him with pity. “Well, you have many now at least, if I may be so bold as to count myself among them.”

“Honestly, you might be the most… valid candidate, I suppose,” Astarion said, stumbling over his words a bit. “If this is what friendship is supposed to feel like.”

“What does it feel like to you?” Gale passed him the bottle back.

“It… I’m not sure how to describe it honestly,” Astarion said, taking a long swallow and draining a quarter of the bottle. “How would you?”

“Hm, hard to say honestly,” Gale said after a moment of thought. “My… my only real example before our little party was Tara. This may come as a surprise to you, but my social circle is rather small. Less a circle and more a… pinhead.”

“You?” Astarion said incredulously. Nothing about the kind, affable, admittedly excessively verbose wizard led him to believe the man wasn’t surrounded by friends at all times. He passed the bottle back. “What about all those stories about the Yawning Portal?”

“Oh I've acquaintances plenty. I… when I realized what the orb was doing to me, I became inconsolable,” Gale said softly, looking down. “I shut myself off from everyone, including my mother. I was too ashamed of my failure, and afraid of the danger I posed. I didn’t leave my tower for over a year.”

“Didn’t anyone visit you?”

“Sadly not.” Gale said simply. “Tara was my only comfort in that time, but she was often gone to find trinkets to treat the orb. And there's only so much one tressym can do to make up for one's entire social circle.” He looked up at Astarion, “You’re the first person I’ve spent any significant time with in a year or more. And it’s made me realize that I may have left a large part of my wit and sensitivity in my tower.”

Astarion wanted to snort 'no shit', but it didn’t seem… appropriate. When did he start caring about things like that? “Aside from the condescension and the bragging, you wouldn’t be able to tell really.” There was no bite to his voice. “But you do… fine. You're the most erudite bastard I've ever met.”

“I’m glad,” Gale’s tone was sincere. He took a drink and passed the bottle back. “But I have a feeling there’s something else you want to talk about.”

Astarion stared at the wine. “I’m not sure if I should.”

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Gale said, amiable as ever. “I'm happy to keep chattering on and regaling you with a continued lecture of Waterdeep's history with piracy. But if you want to speak of something more substantial... I am more than willing to listen.”

And he was, wasn’t he? Gale was always remarkably upfront about things, aside from the orb, and encouraged the same. Shadowheart had divulged her Shar worship to him him first and then to the others after being bolstered by his lack of judgement. He’d had suspicions about Astarion’s vampiric nature but apparently kept them to himself. He had only been indignant about the biting incident because Astarion hadn’t asked first.

So why was this still so bloody hard?

“I…” I wanted to apologise for what I did to you, he wanted to say. What came out instead was, “I wanted to thank you.”

That seemed to take Gale by surprise, the wizard blinking in astonishment. “Thank me? For what?”

“For what you said with the drow,” he rushed the words out. If he didn’t get them out now, he isn’t sure he ever would. “For not… forcing me to bite her. For letting me have the choice.”

Gale’s eyes softened and his hand reached out to pat his knee, but froze partway. Instead he left his hand next to him on the bed, between them, “I didn’t let you have a choice, Astarion, you just… had one. You will always have one. You will never have to do anything you don’t want to do again.”

Gods, his eyes burned. He knew vampires could cry, Cazador had delighted in it, and he had never so badly wanted to than he did in this moment.

“I spent 200 years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master,” Astarion croaked, hand clenching the wine bottle hard enough to make the glass creak. “What I wanted, how I felt… it never mattered.” He swallowed, “You could have asked me to do the same and I… I would’ve done it. Would’ve thrown myself against her, what I wanted be damned… but you didn’t. And though I know I didn’t- haven’t shown it… I’m grateful.”

Gale was silent and when Astarion finally got the courage to look over at him, he met those lovely doe eyes again, brimming with sympathy. It made his heart clench and normally it would make him angry, to be the object of pity, but he couldn’t… it didn’t sting as badly as it normally did. “I truly wish you didn’t,” Gale said, voice hoarse. “I wish you hadn’t suffered so much that you feel grateful for such simple decency. I wish someone had shown it and more to you before, and I’m genuinely sorry that no one did.”

The words washed over him, bringing some warmth to his chest. The sentiment was appreciated, even though it was just words, but it was more than he had ever gotten before.

“It would’ve been easy to bite her… to go along with what I was told to do,” Astarion said, handing him the bottle again. Gale took it but didn’t drink, just listening intently. “A moment of disgust that I push through and then carry on like normal, like I always have. Hells, I did so just a few weeks ago-”

“Astarion,” Gale interrupted, eyes wide in shock. “I- those nights ago with me a-and Tav, at the tiefling party… did you-”

“I needed protection,” Astarion scoffed, a smirk dancing across his lips to cover up the shame underneath. Better Gale know now before he made any more promises of undeserved friendship. “People don’t trust vampires, perhaps understandably, so I needed to get someone on my side.” His smirk took on a lascivious edge: this was it, the killing blow to whatever had been brewing between them. “And I thought you would be easy to seduce, frankly. You practically reeked of desperation, darling. Still do. I wasn’t expecting your orb to act as a chastity belt though, so I had to change my plan. Tav was easy enough, though Karlach eventually stole their heart, much to my disappointment considering it made all my efforts rather moot.”

He pretended to not see the way his words stung at Gale, the plain hurt in his eyes and the way he curled up in himself, cheeks burning with shame. This was for his own good, for him to realize that Astarion was a cancer: a parasite that would consume everything in his path if it meant he got a scrap of power, an edge over his enemies. He was not for silly, romantic wizards with soft eyes and softer hearts. He should push the knife in deeper, drive him away, do the selfless thing for one in his life and save that gentle heart from any more pain-

But Astarion had never been a selfless man.

“But if I were to be completely honest… I really had wanted it to be you.”

“Because it would’ve been easier to manipulate me into protecting you?” Gale said with a bite in his tone. Astarion winced, but he knew he deserved it.

“Because I have realized that, even back then, I had foolishly already started to be fond. Of you.”

“What?” Gale sounded stunned.

“Trust me, I was not happy about it,” Astarion groused, but it was half-hearted at best. “You were… are a complication I didn’t see coming. You can be annoying, a braggart, you never seem to shut up-”

“If this is what you call seduction-”

“-but you are also the kindest, warmest, most bitingly intelligent person I have ever met.” Gale’s words stuttered into silence as Astarion shifted to face him. “You’ve… I don’t understand why, but you’ve always been kind to me, even when I’ve not been so to you. I’ve enjoyed your company these past few weeks, even without anything… intimate happening. I’ve never understood why you even bother wasting your time on me-”

“Because I care about you,” Gale murmured. He shifted to mirror his position, eyes searching Astarion’s for something. The thought popped into his head again and, for once, the spawn allowed himself to think it: he really was beautiful.

“Really?” the barest hint of a whisper. He say some thought process flicker behind Gale’s eyes as the wizard looked him over, a bit conflicted. Then he seemed to come to a decision as he shuffled a bit closer and Astarion braced himself for whatever came next, likely a well-deserved blow.

Instead, what he got was a pair of warm arms slowly slipping around his waist, hesitant and light, and the touch of soft chestnut curls touching his shoulder, followed by the most comforting weight he had ever felt against his chest. He tensed initially, bracing for… He didn’t even know anymore, but it took him a moment to realize that he felt… different. There was adrenaline rushing through him, but it wasn’t the same as what he experienced with fear, or the exhilaration of a battle.

It felt… good.

Gale felt good.

His arms slowly came around the wizard, similar to when they had hugged weeks ago during their first proper conversation. Back then, the hug had felt… good. Comforting.

It paled in comparison to this.

He felt Gale’s chest rising and falling against his own, gentle breaths puffing against his cheek as he slowly lowered his forehead to a robe-clad shoulder. He idly thought he should move his hands: maybe placing them on his hips or even on his ass… but he didn’t want to.

So he chose not to.

He chose to stay just like this, with a warm, wonderful wizard tucked against his chest and his face buried in lavender scented waves.

“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion murmured against the closest ear, bringing one hand up to thread into thick hair.

“The mark of a great wizard is his unpredictability, or so I'm told.” The gentle tease made Astarion smile and he could feel the same being pressed into his shoulder.

“I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next.” the vampire confessed quietly. He could hear the celebration dying down, the low murmur of Jaheira and Tav in conversation, no doubt planning the impending strike upon Moonrise. This moment, wonderful as it was, would be short and they’d have to go out and fight and possibly die again. Gale still had a suicide order, and he wasn’t sure if he would obey it or not. He still had a cursed item buried in his pack that Gale had a right to know about, but he didn’t know how to tell him.

But for tonight, none of that mattered.

“But I know that this…” he pressed a kiss to the side of Gale’s head, pulling him closer and feeling the arms around him do the same. “This is nice.”

Notes:

So I just binge wrote another 10k of this story in the last 48 hours and its officially going over the 20k mark. This is turning into quite the epic...

Chapter 9: Devilish Dealings

Summary:

Same devil different deal.

Somehow things had changed but also not.

He and Gale already spent most of their time together, whether it was being on the same adventuring party, or being left behind at camp. It was rare that they were separated since Tav had their preference of teammates for their expeditions. So they often either spent time talking on the trail, or back at camp as they read silently together or exchanged notes on their reading material.

But now, they sometimes held hands as they walked behind Tav. Sometimes, Astarion propped his chin on Gale’s shoulder to watch the wizard cook. Sometimes Gale’s head found it’s way onto Astarion’s shoulder as they read together. More often than not, they chose to share their tents and Astarion tranced as Gale slept.

It was all very innocent and mundane.

Astarion found it delightful.

Despite the constant despair of the Shadowlands, a bright spot had unexpectedly made itself known. A bright spot with soft, brown doe eyes, a dry sense of humor and an adorable flush that made itself known at the most mildly salacious comments Astarion liked to throw his way.

So of course it couldn’t last.

Despite Gale’s assurances that they didn’t need to do anything that Astarion didn’t want to, including sex, the guilt never left the vampire. Not just the thought of depriving Gale of something he must want, but also for the traitorous secret that he had been keeping to himself for weeks.

He hadn’t used Raphael’s little ‘gift’ since he discovered it’s origin (or whatever Gale was to it), instead choosing to keep it hidden and try to forget its existence. When he’d spotted Raphael at the Last Light Inn with Gale at his side, his blood had run cold. He’d desperately tried to keep Raphael’s attention on him and his demand for answers about his scars, nearly blowing his own cover by biting out a poisonous “you owe me!” but the devil had just smiled enigmatically.

“Oh, don’t you worry,” he drawled. “I’ll come back when I have some answers… all will be revealed.”

That had just impressed upon him the urgency to speak to Gale as soon as possible. Raphael had leverage over him that he was definitely going to use and Astarion knew that as betrayed as Gale would feel, it would be a hundred times worse if he learned it from the devil instead of his new… boyfriend? Lover? What even were they?

So Astarion had started rehearsing his pitch. Thinking of the best way to essentially tell his wizard-lover-partner-friend that he’d been using his cunt like his own personal toy for days and hadn’t realized it, but then had sort of used it a little more after. Gods, Astarion really was a bastard.

It didn’t help that Astarion, despite his own self-proclaimed lack of interest in sex, was maybe coming around to the idea that sex might not be so bad, so long as it was Gale-sex. Sometimes when they got ready for bed and he saw the wizard wish him a goodnight with those ever-smiling eyes, he had to clench his fist in the bedsheets to stop from leaning over and kissing him senseless. When Gale muttered spells, recipes and arcane theory in his sleep, Astarion wanted to fuck under the covers and wake him up with his mouth on him. When he watched Gale get ready in the morning, hands deftly working to tie part of his hair up into his little bun, he wanted to walk up behind him and undo all that effort, card his fingers into his hair and hold him in place as he devoured his mouth and drank from his neck.

He wanted to hear those desperate little moans panted out over his head without a tent wall between them as he licked his wizard into multiple orgasms and his face was soaked with his slick.

Gods, he was down bad.

He was watching Gale walk in front of him, chatting with Shadowheart about what the Dark Justiciar corpses might indicate for the area (or at least that’s what he thinks the conversation was: he was maybe more focused on picturing the round ass he knew those robes were hiding) when his sensitive ears picked up on another voice.

“Our hero thought naught but of treasure ahead, did not consider the peace of the dead…” Raphael drawled from ahead in their path, eyes fixed on Tav, but with an amused glance at Astarion.

“Oh bloody Hells, not him again,” Gale muttered, uncharacteristically sullen for a Raphael interaction.

Raphael glanced at the wizard and his grin grew, though he finished his rhyme and warned Tav of the dangers ahead of them.

Astarion paid little attention to their conversation, biting his tongue almost literally, waiting for his chance to ask for more information about his scars. Though, as he glanced over at Gale apprehensively, he would have to be careful. Push Raphael too much…

The devil prepared to snap his fingers for his customary exit and Astarion panicked, blurting out, “Wait! Before you go… I have a proposal of my own.”

“Oh?” Raphael grinned, Cheshire like. “What can I do for my favourite client? I do so love working with you… probably as much as you’ve enjoyed working with me.”

“This is serious business, devil!” Astarion snapped, blood pounding in his ears. Calm down, he thought. Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this right now, in front of Gale…

… But he had to know.

“My old… a long time ago, someone carved some runes into my back.” He heard Gale inhale sharply. “I’d rather like to know what they say.”

“Astarion-” Gale spoke in a low tone, but the spawn shushed him

“Oh, it is of great importance to your Master…” Raphael purred, “As for what it is… I can give you all the gory details… once the beast below has been vanquished and sent back to the Hells.”

Astarion nodded, well aware of the displeasure radiating off Gale. The devil seemed to sense it as well and that grin grew more unsettling.

“Ohhh, you haven’t told him, have you? How uncharacteristic of you to leave your clothes on this whole time,” Raphael drawled. “Why not let them see? Don’t be shy!”

And with a snap of fingers, Astarion was stripped before them all.

If he could, he would’ve flushed with shame, but he knew how to hide it and the anger making his fingers curl into fists. He opened his mouth to make a quip but before he could say anything, he heard the rustling of cloth and then felt warm fabric drape itself along his back.

“How dare you,” Gale hissed at Raphael as he fumbled with the outer layer of his robes, having already given up his cloak to Astarion. “There was no need for any of these damnable theatrics!”

“Now, isn’t that adorable?” the devil cooed. “Mystra’s little toy cares so deeply for your dignity.” The fear from before surged through the spawn again. “I wonder… would you do him the same honour?”

“We have your conditions, devil,” Gale spat out, drawing his arms out of the other layer of his robes and using it to cover Astarion’s front, glaring at Raphael with pure spite over his shoulder. “If you want your work done, leave us to it. And don’t show yourself to us until it’s over.”

“Feisty little thing you are,” Raphael grinned. “I see why you like him: the prudish ones are always the most fun. See you later, my dear friends, until the next act of your story.” The devil vanished with a snap of fingers.

“That arrogant, egotistical, untalented hack of a poet,” Gale muttered under his breath as Tav dug into his pack for a spare change of clothes. “How much do you want to bet he was lingering in the area practicing that shoddy riddle and waiting for us?”

“You don’t have any money, Gale,” Tav said, handing a pair of pants and a shirt to Astarion.

“I’m confident enough in my answer to take that bet regardless.” His eyes flicked up to Astarion’s and then back to Tav and Shadowheart. “You two can go ahead, Astarion and I will catch up in a moment.” The cleric opened her mouth to protest, but Tav ushered her off quickly, shooting Astarion an apologetic look as they went.

Astarion shrugged on the borrowed clothes and if he weren’t still reeling from the last few minutes, he would have teased the wizard for looking away as he dressed, but deep down he appreciated it. Gale was always very respectful of his wishes, and he knew that Astarion was very private about his back. It made Raphael’s early words sting all the more.

Would you do him the same honour? Astarion had to tell him and as soon as possible. He was playing a dangerous game, not wanting to destroy this fragile little thing between them before it had even had the chance to bloom, but it was far too risky. Raphael could reveal everything whenever he wanted and Gale would never, ever forgive him if that happened. He needed to tell the wizard himself and beg his forgiveness and whatever punishment he considered fair. Hells, he wouldn’t even protest it.

“Astarion?”

He snapped out of his thoughts at the concerned query and huffed to indicate that Gale could turn back around. The wizard immediately did so and then reached out for his hand, waiting and allowing Astarion to reach out in turn, which he did, twining their fingers together.

“Nothing to worry about, my love,” Astarion said, bringing his hand up to kiss his fingers. “I wasn’t expecting it more than anything.”

“It’s okay if you’re upset,” Gale said, eyes looking at his searchingly. “It was a gross violation of your privacy, but if it helps: I think I managed to cover your back before Tav or Karlach got a good look.”

“No, no, I should… you may as well know.” Astarion sighed, reaching for the hem of his shirt. Before Gale could protest, he pulled the back of it up and turned around. He heard a sharp gasp from the wizard and a pained “Oh, Astarion…” followed by a very familiar pause. “It’s… now don't quote me on this, I don't exactly have access to my archive, but I think it's Infernal.”

“What?” Astarion blinked. “Infernal? Are you sure?”

“Reasonably sure,” Gale’s voice took on its academic tone that meant he was flicking through every book stored in his mental library. “I recognize the script from my studies. I never delved into it deep enough to translate it without a guide though… but I recognize some of these words. It looks… it looks like it’s part of a contract?”

“A contract?” Astarion’s mouth went dry. “What did that bastard do to me?”

“Did any of your… siblings have similar markings?”

“I’m not sure honestly… maybe? You think we all have parts of this accursed contract?”

“It could be…” Gale shifted to stand in front of him and Astarion let the shirt cover his back again. “I hate to say it, but we might need Raphael’s help for this. Unless I find an Infernal-to-Common dictionary somewhere in that dilapidated temple.”

“Well, we’d best get going then,” Astarion sighed. Gale nodded and started to head towards the temple, but the spawn caught his hand pulling him to a stop. “Gale…”

The wizard blinked, looking back at him curiously, “Yes?”

Astarion’s grip on his hand tightened for a moment, mouth opening and closing. He steeled himself and took a deep breath. “Tonight… when we get back to camp tonight, I need to tell you something. It’s… it’s very important.”

“Good news, I hope?” Gale said with a tentative smile, but it faded quickly when the spawn didn’t return it. “Astarion, whatever it is… I hope you know you can always unburden yourself with me.”

“You might change your mind after this, darling,” Astarion said with a bitter laugh. “But it’s something I should’ve… I should’ve told you this a long time ago. I can only hope you’ll forgive me for it.”

“You’re starting to scare me,” Gale said, apprehension colouring his voice. “But whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out. Together.”

“Gods, I hope so,” Astarion sighed, bringing Gale’s palm up to press a kiss to the middle of it and to nuzzle into it, Gale’s fingers caressing his cheek in return. “Together then?”

“Together,” Gale affirmed as they walked into the temple hand-in-hand.

Notes:

:D

Chapter 10: The Devil has his Due

Summary:

Scars and secrets revealed...

“He licked a dead spider,” Gale said in numb shock. “Dead. Spider. He licked it.” He looked at Astarion with wide, horrified eyes. “That is something that happened.”

“I know, that was delightfully disgusting, though I don’t know why you’re so surprised. Tav is only our leader because no one else could be bothered.”

“Still.” He looked apprehensively over at where Tav was still looking at chunk of meat he’d pried from the spider corpse, even as Karlach was cackling. “I… I think we need to get him some air. And perhaps have a long talk about unresolved childhood issues.”

“Oh, let him have some fun. If he gets off on licking spider corpses, who are we to judge?” Astarion said with a grin.

“We can’t just let him – stop licking the damn thing!” Gale snapped loudly over at the paladin who stuck his tongue out at him but obligingly dropped the chunk of spider meat, wiping his hands off on his armor.

“Meat’s been cursed,” he called back to them. “Succubus venom.”

“Maybe he’s been charming the thing that’s eating it?” Karlach shrugged, resting her arms on her axe. She gave Tav a Look. “I’m not kissing you until you’ve like thoroughly brushed your teeth.”

“I can’t believe I slept with him,” Astarion said with a sigh, startling a laugh from Gale.

“Regretting your actions?”

“Maybe a little. But considering the alternative at the time was blowing us all up by blowing you-”

“Astarion!” Gods, he loved the sight of that lovely flush. Gale really did have the perfect cheeks for it. “Although…”

“Yes, darling?”

“Eliminster did stabilize the orb…” Gale said, shuffling his foot in the dirt a bit. “If you did ever want to, um… no obligation or pressure or anything of course! But if you were interested in… partaking in such actions again… preferably with me this time…”

“Gale of Waterdeep,” Astarion drawled with a grin. “Are you issuing a salacious invitation to my person?”

“Only if you want to!” Gale said hastily. “I meant what I said, I am quite happy with whatever you would like to do and I have no expectations or demands of you beyond what you are willing to give.” He gave Astarion an earnest look, “Even if all we ever do is indulge in our small intimacies without ever making it more physical, I will simply be overjoyed that you have allowed me to bask in your treasured company.”

Gods, sometimes he thought he couldn’t blame Mystra for seducing the wizard, not when he bombarded him with those sweet sentiments and sweeter doe eyes. “I can’t believe you’re choosing to have this conversation next to a succus venom-infused spider corpse that our leader was licking right before we’re about to go face off an Orthon and a Displacer Beast. You truly do have the best timing.”

“Well, I, um, once read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger can have on one’s desire for… other forms. Of stimulation.” Gale gave him a hopeful look. “Have you ever read… anything on that subject?”

Gods, this fucking wizard was too damn cute, it made him want to stab something. Actually, that might be a good strategy: have Gale be cute right before battles to improve his own martial capabilities. He’s sure they can both deliver.

“Darling, I could’ve written the damn thing,” Astarion said with a feral grin.

Gale laughed, looking a bit flustered. “There’s no doubt in my mind about that. You always look so beautiful at the end of a stirring battle, your eyes bright and focused, muscles glistening…” he trailed off for a moment and Astarion was delighted when he seemed to consciously shake himself off. “Standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair… well, it only makes me want you more.”

Gods, Astarion couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to genuinely rip someone’s clothes off, but he wanted to strip this wizard down right now, spider corpse be damned. He was so lost in the imagery of it that he only realized he had stopped moving when Tav called out to him and startled him out of a very pleasant image of a very naked, blushing Gale in his bedroll. The wizard of his fantasies was watching him from over their leader’s shoulder, still with that damnably pleased smirk.

Astarion hurriedly caught up to them and then nabbed the wizard’s sleeve to draw him back a bit and hiss, “Where in the hells do you come up with all that poetic rubbish?” And why the fuck was it so effective?

“Is this really such a surprise to you?” Gale looked at him, amused. “You know that I have somewhat of a loquacious nature, sometimes to the detriment of myself and those around me, and I dabble in the art of poetry. Such sentiments come as naturally to me as the Weave.” He darted a look towards Tav and Karlach and then leaned in a bit closer. “Given my propensity towards verbosity, it won’t be a surprise to you that I have a very practiced tongue.”

Astarion’s jaw dropped but before he could say anything back, Tav gestured for them to be silent as the rejoined the path of the Displacer Beast. It was their final push before making camp for the night and the reminder of why they were here was a sobering thought as they both snapped back to attention.

For Astarion, it was a reminder that there was a difficult conversation to be had soon and that all these sweet words and sweet smiles might soon never be turned towards him again.

He'd been planning his speech for days, trying to find a way to both express his apologies and remorse, but also not… lose this fragile thing between them. Astarion didn’t even know how he wanted to Gale to react. Anger and disgust were the most likely, but Astarion doesn’t think he could bear to see those tender eyes turn cold towards him. He didn’t feel like he deserved forgiveness. Worse still was the thought that Gale would just shrug it off. He knew Mystra had done a number on his wizard’s self-esteem, that he was desperate to feel useful. He doesn’t think he could bear it if all Gale told him was that he was “happy to be of use”.

Tav paused and held up his hand, looking around as they approached the beast prowling in front of a throne of corpses. Astarion looked around as well: prime spot for an ambush. He met Tav’s eyes and nodded slightly, drawing out his daggers as Karlach tightened her grip on her axe. Gale cast Mage Armor on himself and waited for their signal.

Tav somehow managed to convince the giant behemoth to kill himself and save them the trouble, but Astarion was furious.

“That better count,” he hissed at the Paladin, who looked back at him stone-faced.

“Raphael just asked us to send him back to the Hells,” he said, voice low and soothing, but it just grated on Astarion’s nerves more. “He’s back there, we’ve fulfilled our bargain and you’ll get your answers.”

Astarion opened his mouth to spit out something biting, but Gale touched his arm and shook his head. Astarion jerked away from him and stalked out of the temple before he let that brief flash of hurt stop him.

He stalked the wilds for unknown hours. Without the sun, there was no way to tell the passing of time, but when he stalked back, he could see that most of the camp was empty, the fire still burning in the middle. Gale sat on one of the surrounding bedrolls with Scratch and the Owlbear cub asleep nearby, absently petting the former as his other flipped another page in his tome.

Astarion debated just stalking into his tent… but he had a promise to keep.

“You’ll catch your death of cold,” he murmured once he was close enough and Gale jumped with a start, almost sending his tome into the fire had Astarion not caught it.

“Astarion!” Gale said in an urgent whisper, a hint of scolding to it. “I would thank you not to drive me to a premature detonation, if you wouldn’t mind.” It was testament to how nervous Astarion was about this upcoming conversation that he didn’t even make a leering remark of Gale prematurely going off. “I’m glad you’re back though, I was worried. Are you feeling any better?”

“A bit,” Astarion admitted. “The devil… he hasn’t been by yet, has he?”

Gale shook his head, “No, I thought he might’ve appeared to you directly. But the night isn’t over yet… he could still appear later.”

“Right…” Astarion looked him over. Still clad in those ridiculously luxurious purple pyajamas, hair loose and flowing around his face, he looked ready for bed and Astarion really wanted to just take his hand and lead them to his tent and trance the night away… but time was short. He could no longer put this off, no matter how much he wanted to. If this meant it would be the last time Gale would look at him this way… it would only be just for his actions.

Astarion offered him his hand and pulled him to his feet, internally wincing at the loud crack of the human’s knees. Gods, aging sounded horrible. He led Gale away towards their tent, set up close to the others, but away enough that he wouldn’t wake anyone with his nighttime prowling. Once, there he cast a furtive glance around before sighing and taking Gale’s other hand in his. “I have to confess something to you.”

“You mentioned that before,” Gale said with trepidation, though he let Astarion keep hold of his hands, palms a bit sweaty. “Whatever it is, you can tell me… I can’t promise I’ll have a… overwhelmingly positive reaction, but I’ll listen to you. You don’t need to fear me.”

“I don’t fear you,” Astarion swallowed the adjoining I fear losing you. “This is… this is not easy for me to speak off, but you have a right to know. You should have known about this earlier, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Astarion…”

“You know those… strange feelings you were experiencing a lot a few weeks ago? I-”

The roar of hellfire interrupted them as a flaming circle appeared a few feet away and out stepped Raphael will a smarmy grin and the silhouette of a greater, winged form fading behind him.

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked rhetorically, grinning wider at Astarion’s hateful glare. “Thanks to you, our friend Yurgir, the orthon your friend dispatched so cunningly, has manifested in my House of Hope. I thought I would dismember him, but he has his uses so he’s simply being…reeducated.”

“We delivered the devil,” Gale said, glaring at him. “Now give Astarion what he’s owed. You had a deal.”

“Indeed we did! And as Astarion can testify, I always deliver on my debts,” Raphael grinned and Astarion’s blood ran cold as the devil’s gaze turned to him. “After all, didn’t your little gift deliver upon my promises? Something precious in return for my precious?”

“Your gift was an abomination!” Astarion hissed, fangs bared. “I would never have accepted had I known what- what it was!”

“Oh, but you were enjoying it so much!” Raphael cooed, looking between them with increasing delight. “You should’ve seen him, wizard. He fell upon it like a starving animal, delightfully insatiable. My incubus was positively green with envy at the treatment his little experiment was receiving.” Raphael grin turned vindictive. “But I suppose you would know best.”

“What are you talking about?” Gale demanded, overlapped with Astarion’s frantically hissed, “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Have you not told him, Astarion?” Raphael said with wide eyes of mock shock. “Keeping something like this from your lover, nay the object of your desires? For shame!” The devil vanished from in front of them and they wheeled around, looking frantically. Gale’s eyes met Astarion’s, confusion plain in them and the words came stumbling out of the spawn.

“It’s not what it looks like- I swear I can explain-!”

“I must say, it’s a wonderful likeness,” Raphael said, stepping out of Astarion’s tent and gazing at something in his hand. “Or perhaps we should seek an expert’s opinion, hm?” He grinned at Astarion and dipped his thumb in a horrifyingly familiar way. Astarion had a dagger in his hand right as Gale let out a yelp, hands immediately moving down to clutch at front of his robe, eyes wide and horrified.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Astarion screaming, throwing the dagger at Raphael’s head. The devil simply vanished and reappeared next to them, hand on Gale’s shoulder.

“What do you think, wizard?” he murmured in his ear, bringing his other hand in front of his face. “Isn’t it uncanny?”

Astarion couldn’t move, horror freezing him in place as Gale’s eyes fell on the accursed object in Raphael’s palm, expression flickering from confusion, to disgust and slowly to horrifying realization. “W-what in the hells is-”

“Astarion’s requested reward,” Raphael purred in his ear. “A delightful little thing of incubus design, based on their own abilities. It links itself to the owner’s desires and then connects to a desired receiver who experiences every little thing you do to it.” Another flex of his thumb and Gale’s breath hitched, eyes widening as things started to fall into place. “Oh, you should have seen him once he realized that – he couldn’t get enough of it! But I suppose you would know that better than anyone.”

“You Gods-damned liar!” Astarion spit out, fury breaking him out of his own stupor as he lunged towards the devil, who vanished once again and reappeared some distance away.

“Now now, I haven’t lied at all!” Raphael said with wide, innocent eyes. “I promise you something precious and provided! You took a lot of joy in your little toy-” a malicious gleam in his eye- “especially when you found out the source.”

Astarion hurled his second dagger at the devil, but it just passed through him harmlessly. He stalked forward to strangle the bastard with his bare hands, but a tight grip on his arm stopped him. He wheeled around and every ounce of fight in him drained at the sight before him.

Gale’s grip on his arm was tight enough to almost bruise, knuckles white. His other hand clutched the obscene toy and his face was flushed with anger and humiliation and something that looked awfully, horribly close to betrayal in his eyes. There was desperation there too and Astarion… he couldn’t bear to look at him, but he forced himself to. This was the bare minimum that he deserved.

“Did-“ Gale’s voice broke and he swallowed. “All those times… those nights where I felt someone was touching-” his face was pale and he looked like he was going to be sick “Every time I felt those things… that was you?”

Everything in Astarion screamed to lie. To deny any and all of it. He knows Gale would believe him, that Gale would trust his word over the devil’s. Gale is nothing if not loyal and he stands unwaveringly at the sides of his friends and loved ones.

He knows that if he tells the truth, he won’t be either of those anymore.

He will lose the one thing he has allowed himself to care for in over 200 years.

He will lose Gale.

But… perhaps he had lost him already. When Raphael first pressed that cursed object in his hand and he then knowingly indulged in an unforgivable violation.

He’s always been selfish: selflessness was a privilege offered to the wealthy and fools.

But for once, for his wizard… Astarion can do what he always should have.

“It was,” he says, voice blank and he sees Gale’s heart break. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know it at first… but I found out when I- the last time I used it.”

“You didn’t-” Gale’s breathing picked up, voice clogged with horror and tears. “You were the one-” he swallowed, clapping a hand to his mouth. “I’m going to be sick, I can’t- you-!”

“Gale, please…” Astarion reached for his hand and the wizard drew back so sharply, he almost fell over.

“Don’t touch me!” Astarion froze, staring at him as the words he’d hissed and screamed and shouted so many times in the past were thrown back at him. Gale’s cheeks were tear-stained and he clutched the evidence of Astarion’s sins tight in his fist, looking at him like he didn’t recognize him anymore. He gave Astarion one last look of pure disgusted betrayal before he turned on his heel and walked away, a wave of his hand folding his tent and items up to follow him as he moved to the opposite side of the camp. He didn’t spare him a single glance as he retreated into its cover and pulled the flaps closed.

Without even going over, Astarion knew that the welcome Gale had issued him before had been rescinded.

He stood there, watching with a sense of numbness, feeling like every bit of warmth in his body had been leeched away. He’d feared this would happen, had expected that this would happen.

So why did it still hurt like he’d been flayed?

Raphael tsked sympathetically and Astarion didn’t even have the energy to attempt to stab him again. He just turned to the cambion with dead eyes, who smirked at him in return.

“Now then. About your scars…”

Notes:

Soooo how we feeling?

Chapter 11: Bloodletting

Summary:

The aftermath

Gale refused to look at him.

The wizard had begged off exploring the temple again, claiming that something he’d eaten hadn’t agreed with him and he looked pale and peaky enough that Tav agreed he needed to rest and had asked Astarion if he wanted to stay back as well. The rogue noticed the imperceptible tensing of his former... something's body and offered to go with the party, the smallest act of conciliation that he could offer.

Gale hadn’t appeared to have told anyone, but even a Gelatinous Cube could’ve seen there was some tension between them right now, though no one approached him about it. He didn’t know about Gale, but the wizard barely left his tent except to cook and eat.

Karlach approached him after three days of Tav juggling them, where Astarion would offer to stay back or join the other party to give Gale as much space as he could. Astarion told her nothing.

“We’ll hear you out when you want, Fangs,” she said. “We’re your friends.”

Astarion didn’t even have the energy to scoff. Would she still say that if she knew his crimes? He just nodded and went back to sharpening his daggers.

The absence of Gale was like a lost limb. Even in such a short period of time, he’d gotten used to hovering around the wizard, and vice versa. He had to consciously divert his steps when his party returned and he saw Gale cooking, the habit of curling around his back over the campfire still fresh in his mind. He sometimes forgot to watch his own back, used to magical assistance alerting him to his foes. Shadowheart scolded him multiple times for making her ‘waste’ her healing magic on him, but he knew she was worried. They all were.

But there was little time to spend on that.

A few achingly lonely nights later, as Astarion half-listened to Wyll and Lae’zel the upcoming strike on Moonrise Towers with Jaheira, something lit up the sky. Harpers, tieflings and Flaming Fists alike ran to the near windows to see a bright streak speed across the sky, heading towards the Absolute stronghold and Jaheira made a call to arms.

Their party gathered and Astarion knew this was it: it was time to end the Absolute.

They met up near Moonrise, the ground littered with corpses and holy fire burning in spots and Tav gave a short explanation to their discovered of the daughter of Selune. Shadowheart, pale as a corpse, sat with Gale as he spoke to her quietly, one of her hands between his as he rubbed it soothingly. He caught Astarion looking at him and, for once, didn’t look away. His eyes ticked to the cleric and back to him as he nodded imperceptibly, soothing some indescribable concern that Astarion had started to connect to all of them.

The battle was long and furious. Gale’s magic had thankfully grown a lot over their travels and he conducted the battlefield like a composer would a symphony, drawing fire, ice and lightning in turn to decimate large groups of their opponents. Tav and Karlach headed straight for Z’rell and Astarion struck from the shadows, the power of his newly found amulet paralysing the Absolute’s devotee and keeping her in place for the two warriors to make quick work of. Some gnolls that Tav had aided at some point joined the fight on their side, ripping through the acolytes and despite some minor losses on their side, they eventually had cleared the entry hallway of cultists.

They made their up to the roof and Tav tried to reason with Ketheric, but it was clearly too late. They were getting the upper hand on the General when he struck the aasimar down and then dived into the hole the tentacle had come from.

“We need to follow him” Tav said, breathing heavily as Halsin healed a wounded arm. “Before he figures out how to gain his immortality back!”

“Reinforcements,” Lae’zel hissed, looking over the edge of the roof. “Some of us will need to stay and help our allies.”

“Karlach, Gale and Wyll, you three will join me in pursuing Ketheric,” Tav said, flexing his wrist. “Rest of you head downstairs and help the Harpers-”

“I’m going with you,” Astarion interrupted, eyes blazing.

“The Harpers-”

“Then send Wyll to help them, but you are not going down there without me.”

“They need you-”

“I’m needed here!” he hissed. He couldn’t help his eyes ticking over and he knew Tav saw it when those burning bright blue eyes softened. It was a dirty trick, but Astarion glanced at Karlach and he knew Tav understood. “Please.”

Tav looked him over and then sighed. “Fine, we all go. Lae’zel, Halsin, Shadowheart and Minthara will have to be enough to stop the others. Let’s hurry and finish this.”

As Tav led them to the drop, Astarion felt a familiar presence at his side. He glanced up and Gale looked at him with an unreadable expression. It was the most Astarion had seen of him in days and he didn’t look away.

“You don’t have to come with us,” Gale said in a plain tone. “It would be safer to join the others.”

“It would be,” Astarion said in a similar tone, “but whatever you think of me, and I’m sure it’s a rightfully low opinion, I’m not letting you go down there without me.” He didn’t wait for Gale’s response, jumping down after Karlach.

They explored the surprisingly vast illithid colony that had been apparently building under Moonrise Towers for decades and were able to find Zevlor, a few surviving Flaming Fists and Mizora, who Tav had negotiated Wyll’s release from his pact in exchange for their help. Then they came to the lift that would lead them to the belly of the beast.

The restoration machine brought them back into fighting shape, but Tav ordered them to take a few minutes to prepare and put themselves into order. Astarion watched him draw Karlach to the side to talk in low voices while he and Gale waited at opposite ends of the platform.

Astarion wasn’t sure what was the right thing to do. He wanted to explain things to Gale, to apologize and beg forgiveness… but he wasn’t sure if he had the right to, especially when he knows that he would never have forgiven Gale had the situation been reversed. He would have cursed him, attacked him, maybe even killed him, but forgive? How did one forgive such an incredible breach of trust?

And yet… this could very well be their last moments alive. He could tell Gale was thinking the same, fingers drumming on his chest where the orb lay under the robes Alfira had gifted them: a lovely piece of work that made him look like a prince from a children's fairytale. Astarion had helped him dye those with a bottle of Boreal blue he had pickpocketed from the bugbear vendor, insisting it suited him better than his usual purple. He should say something, but bravery was never one of his strong suits.

Fortunately, it was Gale’s. “Given the increasingly dire odds we’ve been facing, as well as the increasing likelihood that some or all of us may not return from this endeavor, I suppose we should… talk,” the wizard said, so quiet Astarion almost didn’t hear him.

“We don’t have to,” he said, offering an out. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, but you owe me an explanation,” Gale said, meeting his eyes for the first time in days. “And why don’t we start with the obvious: how could you dare to not tell me immediately when you realized what you had?”

Obvious and the most difficult. Astarion mulled over the answer. He had a practiced response, one where he explained how he didn’t want to hurt Gale’s feelings, how he had pledged to never use it again, how he never found the right time to bring it up, but… for once, he was going to do what was best for someone else, not himself. Gale deserved the unvarnished, ugly truth.

“I was scared,” Astarion said, finally. “And ashamed. I… you know I have… complicated feelings about sex. When Raphael first gave me that… thing, I didn’t know what it did. I thought it was just… a harmless object. It gave me the chance to… explore without the pressure of another person being present and caring about their expectations or needs. It took me a long time to even be able to look at it without feeling… disgusted at myself.”

He looked down at his hands. “It helped me get more comfortable. Knowing I was in charge, that it couldn’t… touch me back or hurt me, I started to… enjoy it. Then imagine my surprise when one night as I’m… indulging, I hear you from your tent. And you reacting to things I was doing.” He swallowed, “I wasn’t… I felt disgusted and horrified by myself.”

“But you didn’t stop.” It wasn’t a question.

“I wanted to,” Astarion said, but it felt like a weak excuse even to him. “I did, but I could hear you… you were… I felt so Gods-damned guilty, all I could think about was I needed to do something. I had to… make it up to you, do penance, beg for forgiveness, something… and whenever my- whenever Cazador made me beg for forgiveness, it was always with my body. So, despite knowing it was you experiencing everything I was doing… I figured the least I could do was bring you pleasure to make up for it, and then never use that accursed thing again.” He looked up at Gale, trying to convey as much remorse as he could, for once nothing but genuine. “I promise you, Gale, I never touched it even for a moment after that, and I never planned to ever do so again.”

Gale’s expression didn’t change, but the set of his shoulders relaxed a bit. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know how to. I believed my place among our companions was still… tenuous and we weren’t on very good terms either. I thought if I told you that it had been me… violating you, that you might tell the others and have me thrown out.” He shrugged. “It’s not an excuse, I know. Then as we started to get closer… it became harder and harder to find the right time. Then we started… what we did, and I became…” he swallowed. “I was scared to lose you. But all the more fool I, hm?” He laughed humourlessly. “I lost you anyway.”

Gale didn’t say anything to that, but Astarion had spent far too long watching him to not catch the slight hitch of his breath. “That night when Raphael came,” Gale murmured, “you said you had something to tell me. You were… worried about it.”

“I was going to tell then,” Astarion said, trying to inject every bit of honesty he could into that plea. “Far too late, I know, but it was… I promise you that it was my intention to tell you that night, Gale. I didn’t… I wasn’t going to let anything else happen between us without being honest about it. You deserved that at least.”

“Hm,” Gale didn’t say anything to that, looking over as Tav and Karlach started to make their way back. He stood up and dusted his robes off, straightening them out before walking over to Astarion. The vampire spawn stared as the mage offered him his hand. He took it hesitatingly and Gale tugged him to his feet. His hand lingered only for a bare second, but it was enough to give Astarion a tiny, wretched bit of hope.

“… We have a lot to talk about,” Gale said, eyes meeting his. They weren’t as warm or welcoming as Astarion was accustomed to, but it was a far cry from the disdain that he had seen the past few days. “To be clear, none of what you said justifies you not telling me immediately once you realized what you had. I understand you didn’t know it was… connected to me at first, but once you did, you had no right to keep it from me. Did you even think about what would have happened had you lost it? Or if someone had stolen your pack and found that-” Gale swallowed, looking ill again. “I understand your need to protect yourself, but you did it at my expense and that will… it will take me time to forgive that, Astarion. And I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.”

His heart sank, but he nodded. Gale had already treated him better than he deserved. “I understand. For whatever it’s worth,” he swallowed, “I am truly sorry, Gale.”

Tav and Karlach waved them over to the platform as Gale met his eyes one more time. “I know you are. And thank you for being honest.” He turned and headed towards the platform with the others. Astarion took a moment to close his eyes and centre himself, to push aside that familiar sensation of shattered hope, before joining them to descend to the Heart of the beast.

Or should it have been the Brain?

He stared with horror as the giant Elder Brain made itself known, the crown on its head drawing Gale’s attention as he stared at it with awe.

“It’s made of Netherese magic,” Gale said breathlessly. “Such power… to hold it or wield it…” he blinked and it seemed to break the trance. “No. This is it. I must do as Mystra commands.”

He brought his hand up to his chest and Astarion stepped forward, grabbing his wrist before it could touch the orb. Gale whipped around to look at him angrily, tugging at his wrist, but Astarion held firm. What was one more encroachment at this point, he figured bitterly.

“Gale, you cannot do this,” he hissed, holding fast against Gale’s attempt to free himself. “You cannot condemn yourself – and us – to death!”

“What choice do I have?” Gale hissed back, barely keeping his voice down to avoid alerting everyone to their position. “More than just a Goddess counts on my courage: whole worlds hang in the balance! I cannot falter here!”

“This is not courage!” he dropped Gale’s wrist and gripped his arms instead, giving the infuriating wizard a shake. “It’s suicide! You won’t just kill yourself, you’ll kill everyone around you! Tav, Karlach, Wyll, Scratch, the Harpers, the Tieflings, everyone! Would you be content in your afterlife with your Goddess, knowing you condemned so many others with you?”

“Astarion-” Tav said in a warning tone, but Karlach held his hand and he fell silent. Gale’s anger was melting into despair and desperation and Astarion ached to pull him into his arms. If only he hadn’t cost himself that right.

“You told me I have a choice, that I will always have a choice,” Astarion whispered, squeezing his arms. “You have one too, Gale. Gale’s will, remember? You can choose.”

“How can I choose to falter?” Gale whispered back. “What choice can I make here that won’t end in death?”

Astarion swallowed. He hated how vulnerable he felt, but Gale… he could stomach it for Gale. He had nothing left to lose.

 “You can choose me,” he said, “the person who loves you. Who has loved you since you told that drow bitch to fuck off. Who loves you enough to follow you down here because he didn’t want you to face this alone. Who has made so many terrible mistakes, who has betrayed your trust so severely, but who also wants one more chance to prove to you that he will try to be the person you saw in him. Who wants to spend as much time as it takes to earn your forgiveness, and your trust, again.”

He made one final plea. “We can find another way, together.”

Gale looked up at him with tentative wonder, like he could scarcely believe what he was hearing. His voice trembled, “If this is- if you’re just saying this to save yourself-”

“I’m not,” Astarion growled. The words stung more for how true they felt. “I don’t want to die, I’ll admit it freely, but nothing I have ever felt about you has been a lie. That fucking thing linked itself to you because even back then, I desired you and I didn’t even know it. Doubt anything and everything else, I know I deserve it, but not this. I love you, you stupid, self-sacrificing, irritating, yappy wizard, and I will not let you blow yourself up on some starry tart’s order!”

That startled a small laugh from Gale and Astarion’s heart soared at the tentative smile he had been aching to see for days. Gale’s hands came up to cup his elbows and Astarion soaked in the warm touch.

“Very well then,” Gale murmured and he was sure his heart had started beating again. The wizard looked over his shoulder at the Brain and then met Astarion’s eyes again. “Whether I condemn this world or not… I choose you.” He looked at Tav and Karlach, who were very politely pretending to study the ground and discussing the merits of organic floor materials, and Wyll, who was giving them the Look of ‘can we please save my father now that you’re doing with your relationship crisis’, and drew his staff from behind his back.

“Right then. Shall we?”

Notes:

Soooo how we feeling now?

Chapter 12: Avatar of Death

Summary:

When battling Gods, there are always losses...

Ketheric could not be reasoned with.

Oh, Tav tried. He appealed to the man’s sense of honor, to his love for his family, to anything left in that old, broken shell of a great former General, but it seemed there truly was nothing. Astarion knew right from the beginning it was a hopeless case.

There was no appealing to a man who had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Gale used one of his new spells to summon a fire elemental and sent it to free Dame Aylin as Astarion climbed up one of the sinewy webs to find a perch from which to snipe the mind flayers currently engaging Tav. He cursed as the climbed up to find a trio of skeletons clattering and ready to swing at him, but fortunately they were easy enough to dispatch, though they took precious time.

At least until a massive fireball ripped through them, the flames curving around Astarion without leaving so much as a soot mark on his armor. He grinned and gave Gale a two fingered salute before taking aim at Ketheric and piercing the man through the vulnerable, unarmoured skin of his neck.

Dame Aylin roared as she jumped into the battle, bringing her weapon down onto one of the mind flayers once, twice, splattering Tav with purple ichor, who ran through the other tentacled monster with his own blade. Karlach, fiery and raging, engaged the General with everything she had, landing blow after blow and unflinching at his increasingly desperate attempts to strike her back. She roared, turned to take a swing of his blade to her arm, and then swung her greatsword with all her might, cutting right through the midsection of his armor and knocking him back several feet to the edge of the smoking pit.

The General staggered to his feet, blood pouring from between his fingers as he clutched at his abdomen. Astarion knew a mortal wound when he saw it and he risked a glance to Gale, who was finishing off an intellect devourer. They were going to make it out.

Or so he thought, until Ketheric allowed himself to fall into the green, smokey pit and a God emerged in his place.

Of course NOW the Gods intervene, he thought bitterly.

The tide of the battle very quickly turned against them. Fighting an old, experienced General was one thing, fighting an Avatar of the God of Death himself was another. Dame Aylin fell to a sweep from the great scythe, tumbling to the platform in a mess of wings and armor. Tav and Karlach was knocked off the platform to the ground and the tiefling was no longer moving. Gale hurled another fireball at the pile of divine bones, but it seemed to do little to nothing, the flames just rolling off the monstrosity.

“We need a plan!” Gale called, misty stepping and appearing next to Astarion on his platform.

“Why can’t your Goddess come in her own avatar and take care of this pile of dog treats?” Astarion groused, throwing a healing potion at Tav and Karlach, but it seemed to have no effect. The Paladin managed to grab Karlach and bring his shield up right as Myrkul’s scythe swept them off the platform, throwing them both several feet back and to the ground.

“They’re not supposed to- never mind!” Gale grumbled. “Can you get to Aylin? I’ll cover you.”

“And who’s going to cover you?” Astarion retorted. “I can get the potion to her from here-”

“It won’t work! That monstrosity has some sort of necromantic aura around it, I can feel it. None of our healing items or spells will work as long as she’s on that platform. You need to get her out of there without being seen and give her the two Potions of Superior Healing that I found in a chest.” Gale shoved his pack into Astarion’s hand. “Hurry!”

“Gods damn it- if you die, you infuriatingly stubborn man, I will get Myrkul himself to revive you so that I can kill you!”

“Go!” the wind whipped around the wizard as his eyes glowed bright and lightning crackled in his hands. Astarion snuck down the sinewy lattice as Gale brought bolts of lightning down on the Apostle and drew it’s gaze.

Tav and Karlach, mostly healed up, found their way back to their feet and headed for the platform, but the newly hatched necromites slowed them down. Tav charged through them, allowing his armor to take their blows and shrugging them off and then brought his Warhammer down with every ounce of divine power he had in him onto Myrkul’s scythe. The wood and bone started to crack.

Astarion snuck as quickly as he could to where Dame Aylin lay and grabbed her legs, pulling with all his might to draw her away from the Apostle and out of range of whatever aura the damned thing put out. Gale continued to rain spells down as Tav swung with reckless abandon that would make Karlach proud. He grunted as he rolled her off the edge of the platform, wincing at the thud she made on the ground, but as he jumped down, he could already hear her breathing easier.

“Why is that the divinity on our side is always so much more useless than our enemies?” he grumbled, rummaging Gale’s pack to draw out the potion and pouring it into her mouth. As he pulled out the other one, he heard the Apostle let out a bone-chilling roar, making the entire area shake.

“Enough! You will all fall to Myrkul’s might!” The Apostle slammed it’s scythe into the platform and reaching a bony hand out. To Astarion’s horror, it was reaching for Gale.

“No!” He roared, Aylin forgotten as he immediately started scrambling up the sinew, but despite his own impressive speed, he knew he wouldn’t make it in time.

He cleared the edge just to watch in horror as something pulled Gale off the ledge he was standing on. The wizard flailed, trying his hardest to break his fall with something before he landed hard on his arm on the platform from 30 feet up with a cut-off cry of pain. For the first time, Astarion cursed his own enhanced hearing as the sound of bone snapping reached them and the wizard went limp.

“Gale!” Karlach cried out and her flames burned even brighter as she let out an even more fearsome scream of rage and swung her axe hard at the grasping bony hand, shattering it at the wrist. Astarion dodged bone shards as he ran over to the crumpled heap of blue cloth and carefully turned him onto his back.

Gale’s eyes were half open, breathing laboured and pained as Astarion checked him over. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The fall and his subsequent landing had broken his clavicle and shoulder, arm limp at his side. His ribs were in no better condition and Astarion could see blood pooling where the broken bones were piercing his skin. If the injuries and blood loss didn’t kill him, Astarion thought with dawning terror, the shock would.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he said frantically uncorking the Potion he had been in the process of giving Aylin. “It’ll be alright darling, you’ll be fine!” He patting Gale down with a shaking hand and tried to figure out a way to scoop him up to make him drink without causing him any more pain.

“ASTARION!” he heard Tav and Karlach call out together and turned just in time to see the scythe swing down again. There was no time to think, to act: he acted with instinct and pulled Gale’s body close to his and rolled them off the edge of the platform.

He heard a divine battle cry followed by the cacophony of cracking bones just as he felt the scythe catch against his back, a sharp, intense sting of pain and then nothing. Just the briefest sensation of falling and then landing hard with a heavy weight on top of him. He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t. In fact he couldn’t feel anything below his chest.

He craned his head up the best he could, but all he could see was the blood pooling on the ground below him. Some of it smelled familiarly vile with Netherese blight, though the rot was less prevalent than it used to be. But the rest of it… the most of it… smelled like nothing at all.

He knew it should concern him, but it wasn’t important right now. Right now, there was some far, far more important bleeding out on top of him. He once again tried to sit up, but nothing was cooperating, though the motion rolled Gale onto his side and into a cooperating arm, luckily. He tried to turn, but that wasn’t successful either. The only things that seemed to work were his arms and he was particular proud of his right hand that was clutching a mostly-full potion of Superior Healing that he had instinctively covered with his thumb before rolling off the platform.

“Well done, me,” Astarion said, or tried to. His tongue didn’t seem to want to work either. In fact, everything seemed to be shutting down… but he was tired. He was achingly, terribly tired, and Gale was delightfully warm and comfortable… though getting colder with every passing moment. Oh right: blood, humans needed that too.

Well, if only his arms worked, they would have to do. The arm around his wizard fumbled to grip the shoulder of his robes and tug him back slightly, enough to tilt his head back. Then he brought his right hand over and bumped the bottle against Gale’s lips.

“Drink up, darling,” Astarion slurred, forcing the lip of the bottle into his slack mouth and letting it pour. By some miracle, the wizard didn’t choke on it… or maybe he was like Astarion and just couldn’t feel it.

Astarion watched the potion drain and then let gravity win, slumping onto his back. With nothing else to do, he used what little strength he had left to pull Gale closer to tuck his face against his neck and count his breaths. It was difficult to start with because they were fast and short, but they got longer and slower the more he counted. He thinks that’s good.

Things faded in and out of darkness as he counted. In the midst of it all, he thinks he saw a bright flash of pretty light and heard a cry as the cavern shook around him. He thinks he heard a gasp and a frantic cry for help and warm hands on his face, in his hair.

His side was cold.

He couldn’t hear the breaths anymore.

It was too loud.

And then there was nothing at all.

Notes:

We still feeling good, gang?

Chapter 13: Rebirth and Renewal

Summary:

Turns out fighting an Apostle of Death is a bad idea. Or a good one?

Things were grey.

Whispers faded in and out of his hearing as he wandered aimlessly through the mist. He didn’t know where he was or where he was going. He looked down at himself. More mist. How bland and flavourless.

At some point during his wanders, something was different. A pinprick that was a different colour. It grew bigger. He thinks the color is ‘white’. As it grew larger, things started to flood back. The mist started to fade and he could see more. He had arms, legs, a body, a head, a face, fangs- he had a name!

And as he blinked his newly rediscovered eyes open, he remembered he also had had a wizard.

“Gale!” he cried out. Or he tried to. He thinks he actually just groaned like a recently revived dead undead person, but it seemed to have gotten attention.

“Fangs, you’re awake!” a very loud, boisterous cheer that made his ears ring. “Guys, GUYS! ASTARION’S AWAKE!”

The ground shook like the cavern all over again, but instead of an Apostle of Death hovering over him, he now a multi-headed monstrosity that it took his still reviving brain a few seconds to realize were actually his companions all looming over him like vultures.

“Dear Gods, don’t you all have some place to be?” Astarion said, though it came out more like “Gods… place… be.”

“Everyone’s earned themselves a good rest after that fight,” Tav said from somewhere to his side. Astarion craned his head to see the tiefling kneeling next to him with Shadowheart, both of them hovering palms glowing with radiant light over his body. He wasn’t sure what sort of divine orgy he had woken up in the middle of, but wherever their palms went, the aches and pains dulled. Oh he could feel his legs again! And they hurt!

“What happened?” his eyes were already dropping closed and he allowed it. Oh beds, he remembers those. Those could be nice. Sometimes.

“You did a very brave, very heroic and very stupid thing,” Shadowheart said, tone warm and fond in a way he’d never heard directed at him. He felt a hand smooth his hair back and a pair of unfamiliar, warm lips kiss his forehead. It was strange and different, but he thought he liked it. “And when Gale wakes up, he’s going to be so mad he missed being here for this.”

“We should ask Withers if he has a 2 for 1 special when Gale kills you for making him sleep through this,” Wyll said and Shadowheart scoffed.

“The Blade of Frontiers would sit by and allow an innocent cleric to be mauled by a distraught wizard? Are all those heroic stories mere hearsay?”

The bickering continued and lulled Astarion to sleep.

When he next woke up, it was quieter and his mind was much clearer. He managed to get his limbs to cooperate and let him sit up, the blanket falling into his lap as he leaned against the headboard.

He recognized the room as one in the Inn and there was a surprising amount of light streaming in through the window. Things slowly began to trickle back the longer he sat: the battle with Ketheric, the Apostle of Myrkul, the crunching of Gale’s bones, the numbness of his limbs as he struggled to pour a healing potion into the damned wizard’s mouth-

Where was Gale? He thinks he heard someone mention he was asleep last time. Was he recovering as well?

A snuffle broke him out of his thoughts and he reached under his pillow for his dagger, but there was nothing underneath. Of course not, this wasn’t his bed. No matter, he didn’t need a blade, he had his fangs! Whatever intruder thought they could sneak up on him-

“Potatoes… noblestalk… spell sculpt protects... illusion school is…” the sleepy mumble coming from below derailed his murderous train of thought and Astarion peered over the edge of the mattress.

Curled up on a bedroll under a familiar, warm purple blanket was the very wizard he was hoping to see. All that was visible of Gale was a hopelessly tangled mop of chestnut brown hair that was going to take him ages to brush out and, underneath it, glimpses of a silver star earring and pale, bruised skin. A flash of an image in his mind, slowing breaths, broken bones, pale skin getting colder-

His hand shot out and he was shaking Gale’s shoulder before he knew it. The wizard’s eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, fire sparking at his fingertips as he looked around wildly for their attacker. Only when he realized no one else stood in the room did he wheel around to stare at Astarion. The spawn only had a few seconds to take in the dark bruises under his red-rimmed eyes and purple bruising peeking out from the hem of that ridiculously lavish purple velvet shirt before Gale was throwing himself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around Astarion and burying his face into his neck.

“You’re awake! Oh thank the Heavens and Hells and all in between!” he said frantically, body shaking where it was pressed against Astarion’s. “I thought I’d truly lost you…”

Astarion couldn’t remember the last time they’d hugged. Probably sometime before his crimes had been aired. It felt as good as he remembered and he brought his arms around to squeeze the wizard just as tightly. “Now now, it’ll take more than an Avatar of Death to kill me, don’t you know?”

Gale didn’t laugh or relax. If anything his grip tightened. “Do you… do you remember what happened?”

“Some of it.” If Gale wasn’t going to let go, neither was Astarion. “I remember you were wounded and we fell from the platform… I think I passed out after that.”

“Passed out-” Gale let out a disbelieving chuckle. “Gods, talk about an understatement.” He reluctantly pulled back, but just enough to take Astarion’s hands in his. His grip was tight enough to hurt. “Astarion… you died.”

The spawn felt like his stomach had dropped out. “What?”

Gale swallowed, eyes bright. “You… I don’t know exactly what happened, but Karlach told me what she saw. After I fell, you tried to tend to me and Myrkul saw an opportunity. You reacted quickly and rolled us both off the platform, but the scythe caught you in the back. Aylin managed to divert some of the blow but it still…” Gale’s voice broke. “It severed your spine and nearly bisected you.”

Astarion shivered, whether from the cold or some physiological remnant from the encounter, he wasn’t sure. Gale noticed though and shifted to coax him to lie down again, drawing the blanket up to his shoulders. He shifted to sit next to him at his side.

“I woke up to you bleeding out before me,” Gale said, voice trembling. “You were clutching an empty potion bottle and I… I knew I had been injured terribly, I remember feeling bones break and blood in my lungs. But I woke up fine and you…” twin trails dripped down Gale’s cheeks, “We tried to heal you, but it just wasn’t enough… you died in my arms.”

It didn’t sound real. How could he have died, he was sitting right here! But nothing in Gale’s voice and demeanor betrayed it as anything but the truth. He had died. Again. He had died again.

He had died in the arms of the person he loved.

All in all, not the worst way to go.

Gale looked stricken and Astarion thought he may have said that out loud.

“You did.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as Astarion would have imagined, if he could have even imagined this. Gale seemed to be trying to find words and it was a rare enough sight that Astarion was going to savour it.

“You had a potion in your hand,” Gale said slowly. “And you gave it to me.”

“Yes, well… It wouldn’t do very well to convince you not to blow yourself up only to let it happen by Myrkul’s means.”

“Karlach said it looked like you were trying to shield me.”

“An exaggeration-”

“I woke up to you holding me despite you almost being cut in half.”

“A flesh wound-”

“Astarion,” Gale said sharply and the vampire snapped his mouth shut. His tone softened. “Why?”

Astarion stayed silent, gaze fixed on something far off. Gale sat patiently, with the air of someone who could do this all day. Finally, slowly, Astarion spoke.

“I didn’t think about it,” he said. “It just… I just did it.” He met Gale’s eyes and his breath caught. “You were hurt, dying and I reacted. It didn’t even… I never even thought about taking the potion myself. The only thing I thought about was saving you. That’s why I went down with you in the first place.” Astarion’s hand slid out from under the covers and he risked a touch to Gale’s hand. His heart soared when it was taken in turn. “That was the only thing that mattered.”

Gale exhaled shakily and gave his hand a squeeze. He seemed at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Astarion would mark the day in a calendar if he could do more than sit up. Gale seemed to be lost in thought for a while, lips pursed and then, judging by the set of his jaw, he appeared to come to a decision.

“Astarion,” he said, “Can I link my tadpole to yours?”

Astarion didn’t recoil. It didn’t occur to him to, though it did occur that it should have. But there was no danger here. “Yes.”

Gale reached out with his other hand and cupped his cheek, shifting closer and leaning in to press their foreheads together. As they closed their eyes, images flashed in front of Astarion’s eyes and the guttural roar of a dying Apostle of Myrkul ringing in his ears.

Astarion’s first thought was what a waste when he saw the pool of blood his nearly-bisected almost-corpse was lying in. The second was I’m glad I didn’t feel it, followed soon by oh.

For he saw through Gale’s own eyes as the pale elf before him closed his own and he felt like his world had ended.

“Astarion? Astarion!” his voice – Gale’s voice – sounded wretched and choked with tears. “Please, please, don’t close your eyes! You need to stay awake! Please!”

He gathered the body up to rest Astarion’s head on his lap, nausea rising in him at the unnatural bend of his torso.

“KARLACH, TAV, WE NEED HELP!” he screamed hoarsely over the rumbling of the cavern. His hands frantically roamed over Astarion’s face, fingers stroking his cheeks, his forehead, his hair. “Please, please, Astarion, you can’t- this can’t be the end, you must-”

He bent over and pressed his forehead against the vampire’s chilled one. “We have so much we still need to talk about, to work out, it can’t end here… Stay with me, Astarion… please.” His gaze fixed on pale lips, but he pressed a kiss to the side of them, a grief-laden thought slipping in his mind that their first kiss could not be this. Everything else seemed to matter so little now…

“I forgive you,” he whispered, throat clogged with tears. “I forgive you, I forgive you, of course I forgive you, you stubborn, stupid, impossible man. Please… just stay with me.”

Astarion felt himself being drawn out of the memory gently, his essence separating from Gale’s, leaving a hollow ache in his chest as he blinked back in his own body. Gale’s eyes stayed closed for a moment longer before he blinked them open and Astarion was glad to be back in his own body if it meant he got to look at those eyes again.

“I forgive you,” Gale said, softer than the memory, but no less sincere, thumb stroking Astarion’s cheek. “We have much to talk about, if you still want to, but I wanted you to know that. I forgive you.” A pause and then an even softer, “I love you too.”

He had died. He had surely died and this was his semblance of an afterlife. Any moment now, Gale was going to morph into Cazador and then laugh at the stupid vampire spawn ever dreaming he could have something like this and then flay the skin from his bones again.

But the pain in his body didn’t lessen. Gale’s touch didn’t fade. The image in front of him was not picture perfect, but adorably, perfectly imperfect.

“If you’re just saying this because you feel guilty I almost died-”

“I’m not,” Gale cut him off with a frown. “I’m many things to many people, but I’m not a man to throw the ‘L’ word around lightly. I’ve loved you for a while too, but I didn’t… it didn’t feel right to say that to you when I wasn’t sure whether I would obey Mystra’s orders or not. But that day… seeing you dying before me… all I could think about, my only regret, was not making sure you knew that beforehand.”

He brought Astarion’s hand that he still held to his lips, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Yes, you made a horrible mistake. But once I started thinking about it, about everything… one mistake didn’t taint everything else we had shared. I believe you are sorry, truly sorry, for what you did and when I really thought about it… I realized I had forgiven you before we even entered the battle. I just wish I had told you that before you-”

“No more wishes,” Astarion interrupted, pressing his fingers to his lips to silence him. Gale obliged and Astarion thinks he may have found his favourite way to shut the wizard up. “We both have had our regrets, and I say that’s enough. I think it’s time we stopped looking back at what we would have done differently and start looking forward to what we’ll do next.” He curled his fingers under Gale’s chin and tugged him a bit closer. “And I have the perfect idea of how to start.”

“You do have good ideas,” Gale said with a small, genuine smile. “But are you sure? If you would rather we-”

The last word trailed off as Astarion used what remaining strength he had to lean forward and press his lips to his wizard’s. Gale’s sharp intake of breath and subsequent sigh would’ve made goosebumps crop up on Astarion’s arms had he still the ability. The wizard was warm, soft, slightly grimy and utterly perfect against him as Astarion let his tongue flick over his lips and then dip in between them as he gasped.

If he were feeling better, he’d press forward more. He’d tip Gale back on the bed and kiss him breathless, then trail kisses down that lovely long neck and follow that path of orb lines, chest hair and happy trail all the way down to the real thing. And wasn’t that a delightful surprise of a feeling?

But this was good too.

Gale made a soft noise into the kiss and Astarion felt a little shudder course through him as he pressed closer, warm hands coming up to cup his face and Astarion wrapped his arms around him in return, pulling him almost on top of him.

Actually, this was perfect.

“You’re perfect,” Astarion said when they broke apart to tend to Gale’s need for air.

“And you’re a rubbish liar,” Gale chuckled breathlessly, lips delightfully pink. “I lived the life of a hermit for some time before I met you.”

“Didn’t you once say something about the ethics of experimentation or something?” Astarion said with a devilish grin.

“I believe we once spoke about experimentation being the mark of any good researcher,” Gale returned that smile with one of his own, far more mischievous in nature. “And that it should be repeated thrice for good measure.”

“Well, that was one…” he trailed his hand up Gale’s back to tuck a strand of messy hair behind his ear. “I believe we are due two more repetitions, Mr. Of Waterdeep.”

Gale shimmied further up his body to get closer and Astarion had to fight the urge to twist them and slam him onto the bed. “Well, if it’s in the interest of science, I can make myself available-”

Astarion had to amend his previous statement as he leaned in again. This was his favourite way to shut his wizard up.

Notes:

Just wanted to thank everyone who's been leaving comments in this fic so far! This is very much my first return to writing for fandoms in more than a decade and I was really nervous posting this, but I've been overwhelmed by the incredible support that's come in from everyone!

There's still a ways to go with this fic (I'm sorta just letting it take me where it does) and loose ends to tie up (coughRaphaelcough) so thank you to everyone who's been going on it with me!

Chapter 14: New Discoveries

Summary:

Before they leave the Shadowlands behind, Gale has an invitation for Astarion...

Thanks to Shadowheart and Halsin’s efforts (and Withers’ suspiciously powerful revivification magic), Astarion was back on his feet within a day or two and ready to seize the day.

And by the day, he meant a certain blue-clad wizard.

The Absolute’s army had marched forward towards Baldur’s Gate and they certainly needed to be ready to do the same, but Tav had insisted they take some time to rest up. After all, he reasoned, a small group could travel much faster than a large, motley group of miscellaneous bandits and ne’er do wells: especially one that had lost their General.

Astarion was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when it gave him time to indulge in his new favourite hobby: kissing his wizard.

They had indeed talked and hashed some things off. Gale had made it clear that Raphael’s abomination was staying with him for now until he could figure out a way to ‘disconnect’ himself from it and he’d hidden it away with layers of magical security. Astarion was happy to see it go, especially when there a very real possibility of something so much better.

They hadn’t progressed beyond kissing so far, through mutual agreement. Astarion was happy to fantasize of getting naked with the wizard, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to actually make it a reality. Gale was happy to wait, agreeing that in the middle of shadow-cursed lands and at a public campsite was not his ideal situation for romance either, especially when there was no real urgency anymore.

The closest they got was their last night before they would march to the Gate. Astarion had walked into their room (their room, he couldn’t believe it) and spotted a purple projection of the wizard pointing him towards the lakeshore. There, he came across a most beautiful sight. And the auroras in the sky was quite pretty too.

Gale smiled at him from a purple blanket he’d set on the lakeshore, settling his hands down from where he moved them like an artist painting the sky with colors and patted the spot next to him. Astarion took a seat and joined him in looking up at the purples, greens and blues framing the starry night sky.

“I love this time of night,” Gale said in a hushed tone. “There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break.” He paused and raised a hand to trace along one of the lines, eyes darkening slightly. “The cradle of eternity. The timelessness of lovers.” He looked over at Astarion with a small smile. “The most beautiful of fantasies.”

After 200 years of nothing but darkness, Astarion felt that there was nothing beautiful about the night. It was dark, cold, empty and lonely. But sitting below the most beautiful auroras he’d ever seen, with a gorgeous doe-eyed wizard looking at him with heated eyes and the softest smile, Astarion could understand what some of those beautiful fantasies might be.

“It’s quite a breathtaking sight, darling,” Astarion said, looking at him. “I assume this is your doing?”

“It is,” Gale said with no small hint of pride, the boastful little thing. “The curse is still present of course, though fading more and more with each passing minute. It’s just veiled and at arm’s length for now. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight? Tonight is special.”

“Oh?” Astarion drawled, shifting onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “And what makes tonight so special?”

“Well, we’re about to leave a century-old cursed land that we have ensured is cursed no more, and we’re about to go tackle an army,” Gale chuckled. “Who knows when we’ll get a moment’s peace next? And I didn’t even think I’d get anymore nights like this. So tonight… I wanted to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder.” He gave Astarion a playful look that had no right to be as sultry as it was. “And with company to match.”

If he had a heartbeat, he’s sure it would’ve skipped a beat as his eyes widened. How in the worlds was this incorrigible wizard so awkward and yet so charismatic at the same time? He’s sure it’s how he made sure none of his classmates drowned him in a chamberpot growing up.

“I had thought about showing you this before… everything happened,” Gale said delicately. “And then of course it never seemed the right time… but maybe that worked out for the best. I fear I would’ve been a touch more sombre at that occasion with the then-knowledge of my seemingly inevitable fate, this display more to soothe myself rather than to share its delights with you.” He shifted to mirror Astarion, propping his head up on the folded arm. “I was going to create it for you, to tell you that you are very special to me. If things were different, and we had more time, I would’ve done it all differently, but I suppose even if how we got here could use some work… we did get here eventually.”

“That we have,” Astarion agreed. A pause, then reluctantly, “Any regrets?”

“Only that I wasted time being angry,” Gale said. “I should’ve-”

“No,” Astarion reached forward to press his fingers to his lips. He thrilled that he could do that. “No, I will not hear you apologize for being understandably upset that I had taken liberties with you that I shouldn’t have.” There was no room for argument in his tone. “I touched part of you without your consent. Even if it was accidental, you still have a right to be upset, and I won’t hear you telling yourself you’re overreacting.”

Gale’s lips quirked into a smile below his fingertips and then he felt the lightest of kisses being pressed to them. “I fear if we start that argument again, we’ll be at it until the dawn. So instead, I will listen to your charmingly astute advice and stop looking back to start looking forward.”

“So the wizard can learn,” Astarion grinned, shuffling closer. “I must say: no one’s ever banished a curse to show me the stars before. You do know how to impress a man.”

“Well, then they were clearly not worthy of you,” Gale said, following his lead, close enough that their knees were almost knocking together, “because you deserve the stars themselves.”

“I have no need for the stars,” a cool hand slipped over a purple-velvet clad waist and pulled it’s wearer closer, until he could the warm puffs of his breath on his lips, “You are all that I want.”

Gale’s breath hitched and his hand came up to splay against Astarion’s chest, feeling for a heartbeat that he knew intellectually would not be there, but wanting to feel for it anyway. “Am I truly?”

“Well, there is a little something more I would like…”

“And what is that?” Gale murmured. “Whatever it is, only ask it and it shall be yours.”

“I believe it already is,” Astarion said with a wicked grin as he tilted his head and leaned in to capture the other’s lips, delighting in the telltale shudder that he could feel coursing through him. Gale felt like a furnace against him, soft, warm and so endlessly intoxicating that no blood, no wine, nothing could ever come close.

Gale’s hand shifted up his neck to tangle in his curls and Astarion followed the pull of his hand to kiss him even deeper, rolling Gale onto his back and shifting partially on top of him. This would usually be the point where Astarion would coax him to spread his legs so that he could grind into him, stoking his desire higher and higher until he was begging to be fucked, but he found himself quite content to just stay as they were. To feel Gale’s solid warmth beneath him and his endlessly soft lips meeting his own.

Soon, however, they started to lose themselves in their kisses, the meeting of lips becoming harsher and more passionate. Gale’s hand tightening in his hair and Astarion groaned into his mouth, shifting to better position himself on him, his hand creeping under the hem of Gale’s ridiculously over-sized sleeping tunic to splay along the warm, hairy expanse of his belly.

The wizard trembled under his touch, no doubt from the chilliness of his touch, but also from anticipation as his hands cupped Astarion’s face and coaxed him into parting his lips for his practised tongue. He felt Gale wince a bit as he nicked himself on his fangs, but the kiss took an even more addicting factor as Astarion drew his bruised bottom lip between his to get every minute drop of his delicious blood. Clearly the orb being stabilizes had more benefits than he thought.

Gale whimpered into his mouth and Astarion’s hand slid further up his soft, toned torso, the dusting of hair tickling at his fingertips, and settled over one perfect pec. He let his thumb flick over the budding nipple and saw stars as Gale’s hips bucked into his. Astarion broke from his mouth when Gale started panting for breath and turned his attention to that lovely, long neck, his unoccupied hand slipping between Gale’s shoulders and the blanket to draw him closer, coaxing him to bare more skin as he licked and sucked his way along the lines of the orb, determined to leave his own mark on his skin.

“Astarion…” Gale sounded breathless, head lolling back as Astarion worked his way to just under his ear, leaving a purple mark just below that dangling eight-pointed star. “My love…”

“Shhh,” the spawn kissed a line up to his lips, “Just let me touch you, my darling.” He left his nipple with one last pinch and slid it down his side, touch so feather-light it made Gale squirm with anticipation. His hand hit Gale’s waistband on his journey south and he paused for a moment before hooking a finger into the material and giving it a tug.

Gale’s breath hitched, but he didn’t stop Astarion from pulling pants lower, leaving them at mid-thigh as the vampire shifted to his side. Of course, Gale’s underwear was as ostentatious as the rest of him: snug and purple with white embroidery adding just an edge of refinement. The lacing in the front drew his eyes to the trail of hair disappearing underneath and Astarion swallowed for fear of ruining his dignity by drooling.

“Aren’t you a lovely thing?” he murmured, letting his hand trail over his bare thigh, getting a shiver in return. “Gods, you’re so beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to Gale’s shoulder and let his hand trail from his thigh to cup his clothed cunt. There was a sharp inhale and a hand at his wrist, but it seemed to be more to anchor himself than to draw him away. Astarion enjoyed the heat radiating into his palm, the hint of dampness at his fingertips, his mind filled with the images of what he imagined was hidden underneath the purple silk, then remembering he didn’t have to imagine-

A loud raucous cheer breaking out from the inn caused them both to startle and draw away from each other, Gale yanking his pants up and looking like a startled deer as Astarion mourned the loss of his warmth. Thankfully, no one seemed to be about to look over at the lakeshore, but the moment was gone, for now. Gale gave him a sheepish smile and then held his hand out with a claim to be feeling ‘positively knackered’ and the desire to retire to bed with a glass of good wine and a good book.

Astarion knew it was true love when he thought that that sounded perfect.

Later, as they lay in bed for their last day at the inn, soon to be back to camping on the road, Gale whispered a secret to him.

“Truth be told, it has… been a while since I’ve been with anyone besides Mystra,” he said in a hushed whisper, head resting on Astarion’s chest. “And my… encounters with her were always in the Astral plane. I’d forgotten how sweet the pleasures of mortal love could be. Or, well, physical love,” he added at Astarion’s look.

“I’ve spent so long hating the thought of anyone touching me, but… it doesn’t feel bad when it’s you,” he said with a hint of surprise. “However, I want to do this right… the way you deserve. And you deserve better than a quick tumble in a bedroll or a roll in the dirt.” His fingers, stroking along Gale’s shoulder, shifted up to draw his hair back from his face so that he could trace its contours gently. “Once we get to Baldur’s Gate, I’ll grab the coin purse off Tav and get us a suite at the Elfsong Tavern. We’ll have dinner – they served excellent calamari, though that was over 200 years ago – some wine that doesn’t taste like vinegar, maybe even a nice hot bath…” his thumb stroked his cheek, “And then I will take you to a proper bed and show you how nothing you did in the astral plane could ever compare to what I do to you in the material one.”

Gale shuddered and Astarion caught the slight hint of a sweet, musky scent as Gale cleared his throat. “That sounds… well, that sounds delightful. I, uh, I look forward to your plans.”

“Oh I know you are, my darling,” Astarion grinned. “So am I.”

Notes:

So I have realized this fic is now completely out of control and sitting at over 40k words ready to be posted... and I'm still not done lol. I haven't had so much fun with a fic in years!

Chapter 15: Mr. Dekarios

Summary:

They arrive at the Gate and Astarion meets the family.

Astarion couldn’t believe he’d actually missed this cesspool of a city.

They’d entered the city and it was almost immediately chaos. They’d run into Orin twice, who was having quite a delightful time taunting them with her shape changing abilities and Tav looked ready to use his hammer on the next person who looked at them funny. Karlach had wanted to go to the circus, so of course they did. It had been quite amusing until Astarion got banished for stealing from the djinni and then Gale threatened to open a world of hurt. It nearly escalated into a battle until Astarion reappeared with a ring and a smug grin and the djinni told them all to leave and then shut down his booth.

Karlach dragged Tav into a ‘love test’ with a dryad. It seemed to be just them standing with their eyes closed for a while, but something had clearly happened as Zethino commended them for their love and they somehow seemed to be even more lost in each other than usual.

“What do you think the test is?” Gale asked around a mouthful of some sugary cake he had acquired during their wander. Astarion wondered if it would inappropriate to lick the powdered sugar off his lips in public. Then wondered if he even cared if it was.

“Who knows?” he drawled, looking around for another set of pockets to dip his fingers in. “Why did they even need to take a test? Anyone with eyes could see they’re insanely in love, it’s practically nauseating. It’s likely just another grift.”

“Sometimes people like to validate their own feelings,” Gale said, licking his fingers clean of any traces of sugar and syrup and damn it, that was just cheating now. “It’s one thing to know it yourself, it’s another to hear someone confirm it.”

“Is that your way of saying you want to take that insipid test as well?”

“No, no, we don’t have to do that. I was just saying, from an theoretical standpoint-”

Whatever Gale was going to say next was cut off by screams erupting from nearby and both of them dashed off to apparently fight a shape-changed clown.

“What the actual fuck!” Karlach explained, breathing hard once the battle was done. “I can’t believe it, man- fucking Dribbles! They killed fucking Dribbles!”

“I’m… sorry for your loss?” Gale said, blinking owlishly. “Clearly this was a… very important clown. A cultural phenomenon even.”

“I know that tone, that’s your ‘Waterdeep is clearly superior’ tone,” Astarion was rummaging in the former clown’s pockets. He withdrew a letter with a triumphant sound.

“I do not have that tone!”

“You kinda do, Bookworm,” Karlach said with an apologetic shrug when Gale turned those betrayed doe eyes at her.

“But you also have that tone about just about everything, I think it’s just what your voice naturally does,” Tav added and Gale abandoned the puppy eyes for a huff.

“Savages, the lot of you,” he grumbled, though his lips quirked a bit when Astarion threw his arm around his shoulders and drew him in for a quick kiss to his temple.

“Excuse you, Baldur’s Gate is the height of entertainment! Where else can you spent two hours in the outskirts of the city and uncover a murder conspiracy?” he waved his letter under Tav’s nose, who grabbed it and studied it with a frown.

“This isn’t good,” he said with a grimace. “We should probably keep moving.”

Their pursuit of the letter somehow led to them clambering up the roof of the Ilmater temple and Astarion discovered the strangest thing yet: a calico, winged cat surrounded by the remains of what was once several messenger pigeons. Astarion had a moment to think that he had heard of such creatures somewhere and then he spotted the collar with a very familiar symbol.

“Gale darling?” he called as the wizard struggled onto the roof, “Is this one yours?”

Gale pulled himself onto the roof with a groan and looked at where Astarion was pointing. His entire face lit up and he suddenly looked years younger. “It is!” he said with such a bright, happy tone it made Astarion’s heart clench. He hadn’t heard that since before Elmiister’s visit. “It’s Tara! What’s she doing all the way out here?”

“So that’s the infamous Tara you keep talking about?” Astarion said, but Gale had already jogged ahead.

“Tara!” he said happily. “That can’t be you, can it?”

It apparently was as the moment the cat- tressym the Gale-voice in his head corrected – noticed who was speaking to her, she took flight like a furry lightning bolt, thumping into his chest and snuggling into his arms. Gale held her just as fiercely back, talking a mile a minute of how happy he was to see her and how much he’d missed her while she rubbed her face against his chest, chin, neck, cheek, everywhere she could reach.

“It looks like you’ve got yourself set up quite nicely here,” Gale said when he could finally say something without ending up with fur in his mouth.

“Gale, what’s your tressym doing here?” Tav asked, then looked taken aback as Tara peered at him over Gale’s shoulder and hissed. Gale seemed oblivious to her venom, focused on another important detail.

“She isn’t my tressym, she’s my friend,” he said with that tone he had insisted not even an hour ago he didn’t have. “And by the looks of it, she appears to be eating pigeons.”

“Can you ask her to stop eating pigeons?” Tav said and Gale’s eyes widened like he’d forgotten why they’d climbed up the damn roof to begin with.

“Oh. Right. Um, did you hear that Tara?” he asked the tressym currently trying to seemingly shove her face into his mouth. “Um, stop it.”

Astarion wasn’t sure if Gale could actually understand her mews and chirps, or if he was just pretending to, but regardless the wizard let out a sigh of relief. “She’s agreed. Just about.”

“Well, that’s just a shame,” Astarion drawled, feeling the need to interject for some unexplainable reason. “How dare you handicap such a fierce huntress? Let her eat all the pigeon she can, I say!”

Tara’s gaze flitted from Tav to him and Astarion had the feeling he had just been judged and found… adequate? The tressym purred and butted her head against Gale’s chin again and he gave her another quick cuddle before letting her fly off, pointing in the direction of their camp.

“Tara remains as wilful as ever,” Gale chuckled, offering Astarion a hand as he hopped down the last box. “But I’m glad you made her acquaintance.”

“She seemed quite lovely. Could you actually understand her?” he didn’t let go of Gale’s hand as they followed the others.

“Oh, in my excitement I completely forgot you wouldn’t be able to understand tressym-speak! Yes, I do. Have been able to since the day I summoned her,” he said with a fond smile. “She actually can speak Common perfectly well, she just doesn’t like to. To be honest, sometimes I feel she doesn’t really like people besides me and my mother, but I think you won her over a bit by advocating for her right to decimate the city’s pigeon population.”

“I’m glad,” he said, and he truly was. “It’s clear she means a great deal to you, so I wanted… well, I supposed I wanted to make a good impression.”

“She’ll love you,” Gale said with a sweet smile, giving his hand a squeeze, “As I do.”

After acquiring an invitation to witness Gortash’s coronation ceremony, where Karlach almost got herself arrest if not for Tav’s calming hand, they decided to call it a day. Their new camping spot was barely better than a sewer and Astarion couldn’t wait until they made it to the Lower City. Of course, that might also have something to do with a certain promise he had made to his wizard several days ago that he was finding himself increasingly eager to fulfill.

Gale was busy finishing up dinner, chatting with Tara as he cooked. She meowed and chirruped at him which made him laugh, admonish and blush at various points of time. Astarion was happy to just watch him. He knew how much Gale had missed his stalwart companion, how much he had wanted to see her again, and even a few hours in her company and had lightened his heart immensely. It gave Astarion a glimpse of what Gale must have been like before everything: the Nautiloid, the orb, the year of loneliness. He found himself grateful for little creature.

After a hearty dinner, Gale came to their little corner where they had set up their tents right next to each other with the tressym sitting on his shoulder, one of her wings ruffling his hair.

“Astarion, I would like you to formally meet my nearest and dearest companion: Tara. Tara, this is my-”

“You are Mr. Dekarios’ paramour, yes?” Astarion blinked as she spoke. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the voice of an elderly matron. “He is rather pale, sir, are you sure he’s well?”

“Tara, be polite,” Gale admonished. “I told you he’s a vampire-”

“Yes, that’s another thing. A vampire, Mr. Dekarios? While I will admit he’s quite an improvement over Mystra, can’t you turn your attentions towards someone more… suitable?” she sniffed. “Or at least mortal?”

“Suitable- excuse me!” Astarion said, pouring as much offense as he could into his tone which, judging by Gale’s wince, was a lot. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly suitable for him!”

“Hm, are you?” Tara’s eyes narrowed. “Now listen here, dear. I’ll have you know I’ve raised this boy almost as much as his mother in the past decades and my sweet boy deserves the very best. He needs someone to keep him grounded without stifling him and to understand his moods and idiosyncrasies and to love him anyway. You look the sort only interested in a tawdry affair and I won’t have another taking advantage of my little love’s gentle heart like Mystra-”

“Tara!” Gale said, shocked, eyes wide as he looked between her and Astarion, who was looking increasingly angry. “That is completely uncalled for-”

“Listen here, you winged cat-” Tara hissed at him and Astarion hissed back, Gale standing uncomfortably between them. “I know you care for him and he for you and that is only reason I’m not roasting you on a spit right now for having the audacity to compare me to that bitch of a Goddess!” Gale made a discomfited sound but stayed sensibly quiet. “Yes, I’ve had my share of meaningless flings; some of my choice, most not, but I will not allow anyone to cheapen what I feel for him by reducing it to some salacious affair. I will kill for him, die for him- I have died for him and I will burn this fucking world down before I ever let him come to harm.”

Both Gale and Tara stared at him with wide eyes as his words rang in the silence of the night, their companions either deaf to their conversation or wisely staying out of it. Tara recovered first, shifting her weight to jump down from Gale’s shoulder and padding over to Astarion. The vampire looked down at her distrustfully, waiting for sharp claws on his leg, but instead she butted his ankle and wound around it with a purr.

“I like him, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara said and Astarion could see Gale sag with relief. “A bit rude, but a good heart.” She trotted back to Gale’s side and sat down, licking her paw and then grooming her ear. “It’s nice to know I will have support for my campaign against the Gods.”

“You’re both going to be the death of me,” Gale said with a relieved chuckle, eyes bright as he looked at Astarion with such devotion it made the vampire’s chest ache. “And please no: we have enemies aplenty, I would rather we not add the divine to that list.”

“Pish posh,” Tara said and Astarion had a second to think oh that’s where he gets it from. “I think between Mr. Astarion and I, we could take on a Goddess or two. Though I would rather you keep that number to one, Mr. Dekarios.”

“Yes, yes, I promise I don’t plan to run off with another God,” Gale said, rolling his eyes. “Now if you will excuse us for a bit, Tara, I think Astarion and I would like a bit of privacy.”

“Very well, but do remember your Zone of Silence spell, Mr. Dekarios. I do hate to be woken up for anything besides breakfast.” A flick of her ear and a flap of her wings and she was taking off into the night, leaving the two of them to watch her disappear over the nearby roof.

“Well,” Astarion said once she was gone. “I think that went rather well.”

“I rather think it did,” Gale said, either ignoring the sarcasm or not picking up on it (likely the latter). “As I said, Tara has been there for me since I was but a child. Sometimes, I think she still sees me as one…”

“Oh that’s adorable,” Astarion said with a fanged grin. “You’re her kitten!”

“I am not!” Gale protested hotly. “I am a grown man, for Mystra’s sake! And perfectly capable of taking care of myself!”

“You’re her kitten,” Astarion cooed, grinning even wider at Gale’s scoff. “Gods, between your mother and your tressym, everything is making a lot of sense now. You were a spoiled little mama’s boy, weren’t you?”

“I was not!” Gale said with the whine of a spoiled mama’s boy. “Ugh, I take back what I said: letting you meet her was a terrible mistake and I’m clearly going to pay dearly for it.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Dekarios,” Astarion said with emphasis. “So that’s your last name?”

“It is,” Gale said with a sigh that indicated he was about to give him further ammunition. “Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable and dare I say unavoidable Morena Dekarios. It’s been so long since I’ve used it. Gale Dekarios cuts a poor figure next to the wizarding prowess of Gale of Waterdeep.” He deepened his voice on the last words for emphasis with a little scoff.

“Gale Dekarios,” Astarion said, tasting the words on his lips. Gale of Waterdeep had always seemed a bit of an odd fit for the sweet, romantic side man he'd become so acquainted with, no matter how much awesome power he accumulated, but Dekarios… “I think I like him more.”

That brought a sweet blush to Gale’s cheeks and a soft smile that made Astarion’s heart ache. “You like so many things about me I’d have sooner discarded… your generosity is quite wonderful.”

“It isn’t generosity,” Astarion said with a dismissive wave. “That implies that there’s anything wrong with Gale Dekarios.” The vampire fixed him with a look, “And there isn’t. Well, aside from the constant mumbling in his sleep. What in the world is a bitumen?”

“A spellcasting component- but never mind that,” Gale took his hands in his. “You should know Gale Dekarios likes you too. Very, very much. Though let’s keep his existence between ourselves for now.”

“Tara seems to call you that a lot,” Astarion said, using that grip to lead him into his tent.

“Yes, she’s the only one and she insists upon it. My mother couldn’t give one jot what I call myself as long as I’m happy, but Tara felt I needed the reminder of who I was. It was annoying at the time, but… in hindsight, I see why she felt it was important.” Gale settled himself onto the bedroll and opened his arms to Astarion who joined him quickly, resting his ear against the beating pulse of his heart.

“I’d been think about introducing the two – or rather the three of you at some point,” he combed his fingers through silver curls, “I would’ve liked to have done it over a sumptuous homecooked meal, but I’m afraid my culinary talents would be of little use to you.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t watch you indulge, my sweet,” Astarion said and tried not to focus on the sweet scent of blood he could smell under his skin. “Plus, I’d be content with a good glass of wine while you do.”

“Well, my tower in Waterdeep boasts a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself,” Gale said with building enthusiasm.

“I suppose it’s a date then,” Astarion said, and tried not to think about how even if they survived everything to come, making it to Waterdeep would be impossible without the sun protection of the tadpole.

“I can hardly wait,” Gale said, wrapping his arms around the vampire and kissing the top of his head, thinking of the sun setting on his balcony as he and Astarion watched from his favourite seat, wine glasses in hand and books strewn about.

I can, Astarion thought, thinking of burning skin, curtains plunging a sunlit tower in endless darkness and golden skin that he would never see in the sunlight again turning pale under his hands.

Notes:

You won't want to miss the next chapter ;)

Chapter 16: Long-Awaited

Summary:

Finally, a tender moment...

They’d finally made it into the lower city and Tav had struck a deal to get them all rooms in the Elfsong Tavern. Astarion should have been ecstatic, but it seemed that he had offended some (all) of the Gods at some point during their journey because he just could not get a moment alone with his wizard.

Between rushing to make it to all the potential victims on the murder list they had discovered, breaking into the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette office to prevent libel from being published, avoiding the Steel Watchers and Orin infiltrating their camp and kidnapping Halsin, they were being run ragged. Most nights, Gale barely had the energy to make sure they had hot food in their bellies before he was snoring into his pillow with Tara trying to groom his hair and Astarion was barely any better. He was better fed than he thinks he has been in his life with all the battles they’d been getting into, but even he wasn’t immune to exhaustion. They desperately needed a break.

Finally, they had a stroke of luck: they were able to make it before the last victim was slaughtered and ended the rein of terror of the aspiring Unholy Assassin. The dressmaker was profusely grateful and insisted each of them make a selection from his offered goods. Astarion was all too happy to partake, though Karlach and Tav declined, selecting a comfortable black and white ensemble that mentally made notes to dye later. As they headed out, he noticed that Gale had also left empty handed.

The wizard just shrugged with an enigmatic smile, “There was simply nothing quite to my taste.”

Astarion complained for another 15 minutes about his lack of taste until they were distracted by some other chaos.

A couple days later, Tav had set off to investigate reports of hag survivors meeting in town and Gale had begged off, claiming he needed some rest time. He did, however, insist that Astarion join them, which made the spawn suspicious. Still, far be it for him to deny his darling anything, though he was very displeased when he got back several hours later, covered in mushroom spores and feeling surprisingly nauseous for a vampire. All he wanted to do at that point was take a bath and cuddle his wizard but, to his surprise, Gale’s bunk was empty of the wizard. Instead, all it contained was a curled up Tara next to a simple letter than opened itself when Astarion touched it.

A gift for you, my love, it read in Gale’s looping scrawl above a small bronze key, simply follow yonder path. The letter pulled itself out of his hands then and hovered behind him. He looked at Tara curiously, but the tressym just gave him her usual smug look of ‘I know something you don’t’ and then covered her face with a wing as she went back to sleep.

Shadowheart gave him a big grin as he passed her and he eyed her suspiciously. “What is that look for? Don’t you have children to torture?”

“You’re awfully grumpy for someone whose lover has left him a romantic surprise,” she said, voice light and teasing. It suited her far better than the edgy princess persona she had tried to pass off when they’d first met: she seemed far more comfortable in her own skin. He was oddly proud of her.

“Oh shut it, you harpy,” he said instead. “Knowing Gale, I’m most likely in for some lecture on how the mattress mold could be turned into a restoration elixir.”

“Well, I hope that’s true, because I think you’ll certainly need one tonight,” she said with a Cheshire grin. “And don’t be a donkey, will you? He’s put a lot of effort into this.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow, but she went back to her wine and cooing over Scratch and he followed the letter, curiosity now piqued. It beckoned him to leave their suites and then diverted to the private suite to the side, the one where Duke Stellmane had apparently been murdered. He raised an eyebrow at the letter, “Are you sure about this? I’m not about to walk into some elaborate ritual where he plans to sacrifice me for that inane headdress he’s been going on about?”

The letter, of course, did not answer.

The vampire sighed and fit the key to the door and turned it. He heard it unlock and then slowly opened the door, “Gale darling, as much as I enjoy a bit of indulgence, you do know we have a perfectly good bunk-” his words croaked and stuck in his throat as he nearly swallowed his tongue.

The room had obviously been cleaned up and no sign remained of its sordid past. Instead, glowing motes of golden light filled the room, lending the room an aura of warmth and gentle intimacy. The bed had been perfectly made, looking comfortable and inviting with fresh clean linen and fluffy pillows that begged to be sunk into. The dining table to the left was set up for two with a bottle of wine chilling in magical ice. Astarion could see from the label that it was the good stuff. The entire room had an air of seduction and Astarion considered himself thoroughly seduced.

And then his eyes fell to the bathtub on the right and every ounce of blood he had drunk from their foes went straight down south as Gale smiled at him from a cozy armchair next to a steaming hot bath, scented with lavender and sandalwood. But that wasn’t the most alluring thing…

“Where in the world did you get that?” Astarion said, voice hoarse.

“This old thing?” Gale said with a deliberately light tone, gesturing loosely with a half empty wine glass down at the purple silken robe he was wearing as he sprawled in that armchair like it was his throne. The material was smooth and satiny with billowing sleeves, clinging to every dip and curve of his body and tied loosely in the front. It draped down to mid-thigh and gaped teasingly at his chest, highlighting the lines of the orb, the erotic sight intensifying as he nonchalantly crossed his legs, exposing a mouthwatering expanse of golden thigh. His hair was loose and flowing, freshly washed and so much longer than when they had started this journey together, beard trimmed and perfectly groomed. As if sensing (or seeing) the effect he was having on Astarion, he rested his head casually on a loosely closed fist and looked the vampire over, bringing his glass to his lips for a dainty sip that painted his lips the most intoxicating shade of red.

“Just a little something I requested of our very grateful dressmaker. He sent me a message this morning that it was ready. What do you think, my love? Isn’t it a lovely piece of work?” The small smirk on his face said he knew what the answer was, but he wanted to hear it from him.

“Good-” Astarion’s voice cracked embarrassingly and he cleared his throat, swallowing. “It’s- good. It’s good. Uh, a bit… exposed, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Gale said with wide, innocent eyes and Astarion was never going to mistake this Gods-damned wizard for a prude: he was just as kinky, if not kinkier, than Astarion liked to brag he was, he just hid it better. “The nights have been so warm lately, I thought it might be a good idea to get some lighter and breathable. After all, you keep telling me my usual sleep clothes will have me dying of heatstroke someday.”

He drained the dregs of his glass and let a mage hand carry it to the bar cabinet for a refill as he stood up and walked – or in Astarion’s opinion slinked – over to the vampire, bringing his arms around his shoulders and leaning in for a kiss that Astarion couldn’t have resisted even if he tried to. He wanted to place his hands on the smooth, silky waist, tug the wizard closer and devour him, but he was very aware that he was still covered in mushrooms spores, hag’s blood and hag’s – vomit? Afterbirth? – something. So instead, he let Gale control the kiss and snagged his lower lip between his when he attempted to pull back, giving it a little tug and nip before releasing him.

Gale soothed the tender spot with his finger, grinning at him. “Come on now, your bath will get cold.”

“I hope you’re going to get in with me, darling,” he said, hand shifting to the tie of the robe, but Gale’s hand gently caught his.

“Not yet, love,” he said with a grin. “I already… washed up. This is just for you tonight.” He bit his lip with a sultry gaze, “Though perhaps I could be persuaded to join you. Later.”

“Oh?” Astarion brought a clean hand up to cup his chin, thumb caressing his tender lip, dipping into his mouth, shuddering at the lightest flick of Gale’s tongue against it. “And what plans do you have that would assume I would need another bath later?”

“Some… long standing ones,” he murmured, biting gently on his thumb and giving it the lightest suck that had Astarion’s knees going a bit week. “Now get in before the water gets cold.”

Astarion didn’t need to be told again as he started to shuck his armor. Gale helped him in the process, something about the action of the wizard using his own, physical hands to doff his armour lightning a fire in Astarion, one that he could see reflected in his love’s smouldering eyes. Once they got down to the smallclothes, they both paused to look at each other.

This was the furthest they had ever gotten. Everything before this had stopped at this final hurdle, both of them content to wait until they were ready to do so together. Astarion waited for the nerves to creep up, the discomfort of being touched, being seen. But for once, all he felt was eager anticipation, and he knew that tonight, nothing short of ceremorphosis was going to stop them this time.

He caught Gale’s hands, brought them up to his lips to place a tender kiss on each fingertip and then guided them down to the waistband of his smalls. Gale’s eyes took on a brightness and he met his gaze, asking wordlessly. Astarion leaned in and took his lips again in an answer and together, they drew his smalls down his legs and he stepped out of them into warm arms.

The kiss grew more passionate and Astarion had to fight to keep his hands clutching Gale’s, the temptation to open that robe and reveal his coveted prize almost unbearable. But they had waited for so long, what was a few more minutes?

“Bath,” Gale said, soft and breathless as he broke away, panting a bit. He cleared his throat, cheeks red from the wine and the heat of the moment. “It-it’ll get cold…”

“Then we’ll warm it up,” Astarion said, making him shiver again, but he stepped back, eyes not leaving Gale’s, even as his lover’s ticked down to take him in, bare for the first time. For once, someone looking at his naked body didn’t make him feel small and vulnerable. Instead he felt like he could take on an army. Though right now, he just wanted to take a gorgeous, awkward, seductive wizard.

He stepped into the table and immediately groaned as the heated water seeped into his skin and bones, warming him up down to his core. He sank into the water and reveled as all his aches and pains were steeped out of him and he absorbed the heat and gentle scents. He heard Gale puttering around and felt the lightest touch on his hair, opening his eyes to the offer of a goblet of warm, fresh blood. It smelt oddly familiar and he raised an eyebrow at the wizard, who looked sheepish.

“Tav? Really?”

“He was all too happy to contribute,” Gale said with a little shrug. “I thought about using my own but… well, if you’re going to drink for me for the first time, it’s certainly not going to be from some utensil.”

Thankfully the goblet wasn’t made of glass or Astarion would’ve shattered it with the clenching of his grip. This wizard was truly going to be the death of him.

“Now, you just relax,” Gale said, still with that soft, soothing voice. “I’ll take care of everything. Let me take care of you, my love.”

Something in Astarion chaffed at the idea, but the overwhelming majority of him soaked in it. Gale shifted behind him, warm hands pressing and massaging his shoulders and back of his neck, working away at the knots and tightness that came from weeks of sleeping on hard ground and firing a bow constantly. Eventually, those clever fingers moved to his hair, the scent of luxurious soap filling his nostrils as Gale washed the grime of the day away. The entire experience was so soothing, Astarion almost went into a trance, but he refused to miss a single second of this.

Once his hair was clean and slicked back from his face, Gale tilted his face up and leaned down to press their lips together in a slow slide, taking Astarion’s bottom lip between his and returning the earlier nip. He trailed kisses up his cheek on one side, then the other, ending with a smooch on the forehead that made both of them chuckle.

Astarion drew one arm out of the water and reached up to cup his cheek, water dripping onto his face, “You truly are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

Gale smiled and covered his hand with his own, damp tendrils of chestnut hair trailing down like a curtain above his face. “You’re only saying that because you can’t see yourself.”

“Well, my point still stands then, doesn’t it?” Astarion said with a grin, “but once I’m done being pampered by my lovely wizard… I’ll be sure to show you exactly how you make me feel.”

“Is that right?” Gale said with a devious look in his eyes. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling quite warm.” He pulled back and stood up, moving to the edge of the bathtub, just at the edge of where the privacy screen blocked the view of the tub from the bed.

“Must be all that effort you expended,” Astarion said, feeling his heart would be pounding if it beat at all. His eyes dropped down to where Gale’s long, talented fingers were playing with the tie of his robe.

“I think you might be right,” he said solemnly. “I really should lose some layers… to avoid overheating of course.”

“Yes, that is a brilliant idea,” Astarion’s mouth was watering in anticipation. “In fact, you should do it immediately. Right now.”

“Well, thank you for your concern for my wellbeing,” Gale said dryly, but Astarion was beyond caring. Not when he had just caught an incredibly erotic glimpse of something dark and lacy underneath. “Now, make sure to dry off, my love. Wouldn’t want you to catch cold.” And then he undid the tie of the robe and disappeared to the other side of the privacy screen.

Astarion nearly broke his neck scrambling out of the tub.

Notes:

IT'S HAPPENING YOU GUYS

Chapter 17: Waiting No Longer

Summary:

A moment long-awaited, now finally in flesh.

Notes:

So who's ready for 10k of smut? :D

He had died.

He had surely died again and somehow tricked or snuck his way into the Heavens, because there was no way he, a damned, manipulative vampire spawn, was being privy to such an incredible sight.

“Considering you look like Scratch with a steak, I suppose you approve?” Gale said, letting his purple silk robe drape down his shoulders to catch at his elbows. It was a seductive move so practiced, Astarion couldn’t believe he ever thought this fucking wizard was a virgin.

Figaro had done some excellent work, Astarion had to admit. The lingerie Gale was wearing was made of boreal blue silk and lace, embroidered patterns covering the straps at his shoulders and along his abdomen, sheer enough to allow tasteful glimpses of his bare flesh. The deep V-cut neck of the piece went down to just over his abdomen and left a tasteful amount of cleavage visible that Gale filled marvellously with his full, lightly furred tits. It blended in seamlessly with the lacy, transparent hem that barely covered the tops of his thighs and the pair of panties underneath.

It was the single, most erotic sight he had ever seen.

“You look…” Astarion swallowed and Gale’s confident smirk melted into something softer, tender and touched.

“I hope the end of that sentence is good?” he teased, but Astarion knew him well enough to hear the truthful undercurrent of insecurity: the thought that this was maybe too much.

“You look… it’s like the gods created you specifically to ruin me,” Astarion said, stepping closer slowly. Despite his own lack of clothing, the room was warm from the heat of the tub and what was likely Gale’s own magic. He could stand in the middle of this room and spend the entire night just admiring Gale in all his finery.

“I can’t even think of words to describe how beautiful you look right now.,” he murmured, reaching out to brush some of Gale’s hair back from the crook of shoulder and trailing his fingers down the length of his arm. “You look sensuous, delectable, gorgeous and every other word you can think of in that insanely large brain of yours.”

“You charmer,” Gale teased, bringing his hands to Astarion’s hips and leaning up to peck his nose. “That was uncharacteristically nice of you! No comments about how much prettier I look with my mouth shut? No suggestions that I would look better on my knees?”

“You overestimate how sexy it is when your knees crack like falling trees.” He let out an ‘ouch’ as Gale pinched his hip. “But if you’re taking suggestions…” he ran his hands down the length of his arms and coaxed the silken robe off to drop on the ground, leaving him in nothing but lace. “I think we’ve spent enough time talking, and I would like to spend the rest of it making you moan.”

“Promises, promises,” Gale murmured, tugging Astarion close for a kiss and keeping his body angled carefully away to not let his very erect cock brush against him. Astarion fought against the urge to crush him to his chest. “You seem quite confident in your abilities, my dear rogue, but I think you’ll find me a bit harder a lock to pick.”

“I think,” Astarion let his fang graze his lip and let the taste of his blood flood his mouth, making him salivate. “That someone is forgetting that he isn’t the only one with a practised tongue. And I am going to make sure that you never forget that again.”

Gale indulged him in a few more kisses, pulling away only when breathing became a problem. His hand brushed against his length and made him grunt before it pulled away as he sauntered over to the bed and sat down, a wave of his hand dissipating some of the golden motes, leaving the scene dark and private; just enough light for Gale to see and more than enough for Astarion.

“Then by all means, my love,” Gale said, leaning back against the pillows and letting his legs splay open with a smirk, revealing another feature of his lingerie: the panties were crotch-less. “Have me.”

Astarion needed no other instruction. With a growl befitting a rabid beast rather than a devilishly charming vampire spawn, he was on the bed and caging the wizard between his arms in a blink, leaning down to kiss him deeply and coaxing his thighs to wrap around him. Gale exhaled sharply through his nose, but returned as good as he got, hands fisting into Astarion’s hair and keeping him in place as he returned every nip, suck and lick with equal gusto.

Astarion found himself rutting into the wizard like an animal, no doubt staining his pretty lingerie, but neither of them were in any condition to care now: magic could take care of it and the only thing either of them cared about was crawling into each other so that they would never be apart again.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Gale gasped, breaking away from his lips to nibble at his jaw and neck, trying to leave some semblance of a mark as Astarion’s hand tangled itself into his thick hair. “You were driving me crazy and didn’t even know it. Every night, I woke up to your tongue exploring me, teasing me, making me come… do you know how many times I had to wash my clothes in the middle of the night because you made me ruin them?”

One long-fingered hand crept down his chest and wrapped around his hard length, thumb spreading the precum at the tip to allow for a smoother grip as he slowly started to stroke him. “I had never come so hard in my life… it was like you were discovering every sensitive part of me and exploiting them to drive me mad. None of my previous lovers had ever played my body like that before…”

Astarion moaned and bucked into his hand, gripping his hair tighter and using it to pull his head back, leaning down to mouth along the tempting length of his neck, the thrumming pulse teasing him with every throb, making his fangs itch with the need to bury them in such a pretty, willing offering.

“I spent so many nights with my fingers inside me,” Gale gasped, one hand cupping the back of Astarion’s neck to keep him against his throat while the other continued to stroke the length of him, occasionally giving a gentle squeeze at the tip. “But it just wasn’t the same, it wasn’t enough… on the days when you didn’t use that thing, I sometimes found myself aching for it. You’ve ruined me for anyone else, Astarion… no one else will ever come close to what you have made me feel.”

Every filthy word dripping from Gale’s lips was making it harder and harder for Astarion to keep his fangs from him, but he didn’t want to taste him yet. Not his blood anyway. The only thing on his mind right now was to see if the source did indeed outshine the imitation. So he trailed his hand down the length of Gale’s side, savouring the texture of the lace over warm skin and trailed it down to his thigh before sliding further in.

This time, when his fingers cupped his mound, there was no fabric, no barrier separating them and he groaned as his fingertips were immediately wet with slick as he let himself explore that lovely little place. Gale’s breath hitched and he let out a low moan that Astarion immediately captured with his lips.

“There you are,” Astarion mumbled into the kiss, shifting his palm so that it rubbed against the little hidden bump nestled between Gale’s lower lips. Gale’s thighs clamped around his hand involuntarily, trapping it against his honeypot, but his talented fingers were able to slip in, lightly rubbing against his entrance.

“Gods, that stupid little thing could never even have hoped to compare to you,” Astarion said, pulling back so he could see the flutter of Gale’s eyelashes as his fingers dipped deeper into him. “It feels like you’re burning my fingers, Gale. You’re so hot and wet for me.”

“Please,” Gale gasped, squirming down on the bed to try and pull his fingers deeper, but Astarion moved with the motion, leaving the sensation light and teasing. He could feel his clit throbbing against the sensitive skin of his palm and another shift of his hand had Gale’s head lolling back against the pillows, knees raising themselves a bit as he tried to arch into it.

“Not yet,” he said, prying his thighs apart and letting his hand drag itself free, drawing another shudder from the wizard. “There are some other parts of you that I have been aching to taste first.” He ran his hand up along Gale’s lace covered abdomen, smearing his own slick on the delicate fibres in a filthy act that made him bite his lip and letting it meet his other hand on those gorgeous tits.

“How does a sedentary wizard have a chest so full?” Astarion wondered out loud, both of his hands working to massage his chest, bunching the soft skin and muscle in a way that really made him want to plant his dick in the middle of. Gale’s ears flushed red, the blush creeping along his cheeks and down his neck to meet Astarion’s eager hands. “All those layers do you no justice, darling. Especially ones that cover up your incredible tits.”

“Astarion,” Gale protested, but Astarion could smell his arousal and he grinned wolfishly. He gave Gale’s chest another nice squeeze and then moved his hands to find something more fun. A hitch of Gale’s breath as his thumb brushed over a hidden peak underneath his pretty lace lingerie indicated he had found it.

Astarion leaned down and brought his mouth to cover that little bump, his tongue steadily wetting the fabric covering it and making Gale’s breathing pick up. Once the fabric was clinging to it, he let his lips close around tender peak and let his fingers explore Gale’s other side to find its twin.

Gale’s hands tangled in his hair, keeping him in place above his nipple and arching his back for more, biting his lip with a whine as Astarion’s fingers lightly brushed over the other one, teasing it into a hardened point. He’d never considered himself particularly sensitive in that area, but Astarion was showing him all sorts of new things about his body.

Once his nipple was hard and aching, Astarion let the bud slip from his mouth to tighten in the cool air before turning to the other one to give it the same treatment, fingers shifting to teasing the wet one now, just rubbing the tip of it and occasionally giving it a flick to make Gale’s abdomen tense and thighs clamp together.

“Astarion,” Gale moaned, clinging to him for dear life now, holding him close to his chest and shuddering with each gentle suck of flesh and fabric. He couldn’t fathom how it felt so good, how he felt so sensitive despite the protective layer of fabric. Instead, it seemed to be enhancing the experience somehow as he looked down to see a headful of silver curls bobbing on his chest while a slim, pale hand circled around his other nipple.

Astarion let the now tender nipple slip out of his mouth with a pop and shifted to kneel up between his legs, letting his fingertips rest on each pointed peak and slowly rubbing them in gentle circles. Gale’s eyes fluttered closed and he swallowed, hands fisting in the sheets as each teasing tweak sent a jolt of arousal right down to his clit and he was sure that he was making a mess of the sheets now. He was aching for some friction now, wishing he hadn’t ordered the panties crotch-less because anything would’ve been better than nothing at all. “Astarion…”

“Yes, my love?” the vampire said with a smirk, letting his nails scrape over the little bumps and making Gale whine, a fresh wave of slick scenting the air. “Naughty little thing, you’re making quite a mess you know.”

“Your fault,” Gale said, trembling with need. “Please…”

“What was that, darling?” Astarion’s thumbs stretched out to the sides, hooking into the deep V of the lingerie. “I can’t quite hear you.”

Gale let out a sob as Astarion slowly pulled the front of the lingerie as far apart as he could without ripping it, leaving most of his chest exposed. He had a moment to be thankful the orb had been stabilized as he’s quite sure it would have detonated by now. Astarion, meanwhile, was having very different thoughts about the orb. He had never seen the wizard without it and the lingerie framed the lines of it quite erotically, making it a feature rather than a mar. He leaned down to mouth the middle of it, the feeling of static tingling along his tongue as he ran it along the dark, bruised flesh.

“Every part of you is beautiful,” Astarion murmured, fingers slipping up to the shoulder straps of the lingerie and easing them down. “You are indescribably, incredibly perfect.” As the wet lace peeled itself from Gale’s nipples and pooled around his waist, the wizard gripped Astarion’s shoulders and tugged with a whine.

“Gods, you’re so delightfully sensitive,” Astarion said with a big grin, following that tug but not letting Gale bring him to where he wanted it most. Instead he licked a long, wet line up the length of his sternum. “What do you want, darling?”

“I- I want you-” Gale’s fingers dug into his shoulders as Astarion turned his attention to his throat again with feather light kisses.

“You have me, darling. Be more specific. Do you want me… to get you a new book?” Astarion said encouragingly, hands trailing up Gale’s sides and chest. “Do you want me to draw you a bath? Write notes? What do you want me to do, darling?”

“I want you-” Gale looked up at him with pleading doe eyes, but Astarion wasn’t to be swayed. He had been waiting far too long for this and he would have nothing short of everything. “I want you to-” the last few words were a mumble.

“Speak up, my darling,” Astarion said and rolled his hips in a way that made Gale shudder in anticipation. “What do you want?”

“I want you to – to do that thing you just did,” Gale said, face red enough to be mistaken for a tomato.

“Oh no, my darling,” Astarion grinned, bringing his hands up to frame his pecs, just shy of touching Gale where he wanted. “If you want my mouth on your tits… you need to be specific.”

Gale somehow flushed even deeper and Astarion marvelled at how the man, who not even 30 minutes ago had stood in front of him in the sluttiest lingerie he had ever seen and shown off his cunt, was now blushing at asking his lover to suck on his nipples.

“Come on, my pretty love,” Astarion said in a soothing tone, letting his nose brush along the line of Gale’s jaw and pressing a kiss to those soft lips. “You just need to ask… and I will give you everything you could ever want.”

“Please put your mouth o-on my t-tits,” Gale said and despite his fumbling of the words, it was the most erotic thing Astarion had ever heard. And as he promised his love, he would deliver.

He ducked his head to take one beautifully bronzed nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue trace around the quivering flesh before giving it a gentle suck, making Gale arch his back and cry out as he clung to Astarion, fingernails digging grooves into his shoulders. He was starting to notice a delightful pattern with his darling wizard, but as Gale was oft to say, experiments needing repeating. And so he added a hint of teeth, used his other hand to pinch the other neglected bud and was nearly thrown off as Gale bucked under him and let out a moan loud enough to be heard from the other room. Gale clapped his hands over his mouth in mortification, looking at Astarion with comically wide, horrified eyes and the vampire spawn had never felt so smug.

“You delightful little thing, you do like it rough!” he said, pleased, pulling back to let his fingers take over again, pinching the wet peak roughly and giving it a little twist that made Gale squirm, eyes fluttering. “I don’t know why I’m surprised: that always got you off the fastest. You really are the most delightful little bundle, my sweet darling. Just pure, perfect perfection.”

“Flatterer,” Gale mumbled from behind his hands, giving Astarion a suspicious look at the vampire finally moved on from his reddened, swollen nipples.

“Is it flattery if it’s the truth?” Astarion said, letting his hands move from Gale’s torso down to his legs. He coaxed one thigh up and pressed a line of kisses from his knee to the line of his thigh meeting his groin. He shifted down to lie between his legs and coaxed Gale to spread his thighs, giving Astarion his first look at his completely bare, sopping cunt.

“There you are,” Astarion murmured with a happy sigh, feeling his mouth water at the sight. “You know, Raphael really was full of shit. His stupid little trinket has absolutely nothing on the real you, my love.”

“F-Flattering as that is, can we please not bring up that churlish devil right now?” Gale said, craning his head to look down at Astarion with a half-hearted glare.

“My sincerest apologies, my dear wizard! Do forgive my wagging tongue, I’m sure I can make it up to you,” he said with what Gale would later describe as the most lecherous grin he had ever seen.

“Y-you do think quite highly of yourself,” Gale said, gasping as Astarion blew a cool line of air along his heated slit, drawing more slick from him.

“Sounds like someone has forgotten how many messes this tongue has made him make of himself,” Astarion said with a dangerous gleam in his eyes that made Gale shudder and his clit visibly twitch. “Your mouth really does get you into trouble, wizard. Now you’ve given me motivation.”

Chapter 18: A Practised Tongue

Summary:

Gale learns that Astarion is VERY motivated.

Notes:

No plot only smut for this one!

This was the thing fantasies were made of.

Astarion wasn’t sure what he had done to be in the position he was in right now, tucked away in a warm, palatial suite, fresh blood still warming his stomach, lavender and sandalwood scented air wafting along the golden motes of light as he lay on a soft bed in between a gorgeous wizard’s thighs and about to feast on the most delectable cunt he had ever seen.

Gale’s thighs were twitching under his hands with the need to close, the blush on his face creeping down to his chest as he bit his lip, looking down at Astarion with hungry, heated eyes. The contrast of the lace and smooth skin under his fingers was intoxicating, as was the pulse of fresh, warm blood so close to his ears. He wasn’t sure what he was hungrier for – to bite into one of those strong thighs or to lap away at his wet cunt and actually see him squirt this time. He stifled a groan and bucked his hips into the mattress for a moment before forcing himself to stop. He needed to save it: he was first going to make his pretty wizard come his pretty brains out first.

“There you are,” Astarion said, voice low and husky as he used his thumbs to part Gale’s lower lips in a familiar gesture, one that now made Gale’s heart race with eager anticipation rather than fearful arousal. “I’ve been waiting,” he watched that eager little clit harden as every word seemed to draw more from the wizard, making him wetter and wetter. “Waiting since I first laid eyes on this.”

“Astarion…” Gale gasped out, squirming a bit but Astarion’s blew another cool line of air along his exposed slit and if it weren’t for the vampire’s pre-emptive thinking to keep his legs pinned, he probably would’ve clapped his ears with them.

Ruby red eyes met his and gleamed with eagerness, “Waiting to have you.”

“Y-you don’t have me yet-” Gale said with a shudder, hips eagerly tilting towards the vampire.

“Don’t I?” Astarion said and then Gale felt the lightest touch of something against his cunt, so faint he might’ve touch it was his imagination, but Astarion drew back with an obscene string of slick linking his tongue to Gale and a filthy grin. “You’re here. And I don’t think you want to talk, surprisingly enough.”

Gale glowered at him and Astarion laughed. That was a new sensation: laughter in the middle of sex. He quite enjoyed that. “I think… you want to be known. To be tasted.” He let his thumbs dip ever so slightly between his lips, teasing at delicate, smooth, slick walls. He let felt himself get lost for a moment at the sight. How did he ever think a mere toy could ever have compared to this?

“And what about you, my love?” Gale asked, a last bit of snark that Astarion was going to enjoy crumpling into mindless ecstasy. “What do you want?”

On another night, in another place, Astarion might have answered with a generic ‘pleasure’. But laying here in between the legs of a powerful, gorgeous, ruthlessly pragmatic, yet unbelievably kind archmage, soaking in his musky, floral scent and seeing his most vulnerable parts being exposed for Astarion’s pleasure… there could only be one, true answer.

“You,” Astarion said and then leaned forward to finally let his tongue dip between his folds, ears ringing with Gale’s loud cry, fingers shifting to dig into his thighs to keep them spread, keeping him exposed for Astarion’s mouth, Astarion’s tongue and, eventually, Astarion’s cock. “I want every bit of you. I want to taste you, please you, devour you… and I want to wake up to you everyday and do it all over again, until you realize that your pretty little cunt and every ounce of pleasure you get from it is mine and mine alone-”

A small part of Astarion wondered if he had maybe pushed it too far, the dark urge to possess and claim his lover fueling the deluge of words he found himself mumbling, but then Gale was arching his back, fingers burying itself in Astarion’s hair to keep him right where he was, with his tongue deep inside the wizard and he felt the clench of soft muscle around his tongue, followed by a gush of sweet nectar as he finally got to see his wizard in the throes of passion, shuddering as a wave of orgasm surged through him from his mouth alone.

He licked him through it, tongue running along his folds, running up to tease at his clit and back down to dip into that tight little hole over and over again until he had Gale shuddering once more. He pulled back mostly to give the wizard a break, perfectly content himself to bury his face into his cunt and never resurface for anything short of an apocalypse, and even then he’d think about it. He looked over at Gale, feeling a warmth burst of delight and smugness at how wrecked his wizard looking already.

Gale’s hands were buried in his silver curls, half pulling Astarion closer, half pushing him away to let him recover. His thighs were a mess of slick and marks in the shapes of Astarion’s fingers, eager cunt still oozing slick and practically begging for more. His pretty lingerie had pooled around his hips, silver stains on the fabric from their activities. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his torso, pretty, bronzed nipples hard, swollen and achingly sensitive, as Astarion discovered from reaching up to tweak one and making Gale tremble. The mage was panting for breath, cheeks flushed red, eyes half open but fixed on Astarion’s through dark lashes, need still burning in them.

Astarion smirked up at him and licked his lips, tasting the remnants of Gale on them, making the wizard shudder. “I hope you’re not done yet, my darling,” Astarion said with a low growl, “because I promise you: I am not stopping until you no longer have a voice with which to call my name.”

With that, he pulled Gale’s legs over his shoulders and sat up with a burst of adrenaline-infused strength, making Gale yelp as he was yanked down the bed. Astarion shuffled to supporting his suspended back on his folded legs and then gripped his thighs to spread them open. From this new angle, he would see everything from Gale’s desperate cunt all the way down to the wizard’s wide eyes looking up at him from the sheets.

“I’ve always wanted to see what you’d look like when I made you squirt,” Astarion said, one arm wrapping around Gale’s waist and pulling him closer to his body so that Astarion was practically keeping him folded. “And I don’t intend for tonight to end without indulging in that.”

“I-That’s an ambitious goal,” Gale gasped out, shifting his legs to allow Astarion’s face to fit comfortably between them. “But you should k-know it doesn’t happen often-”

“Now that’s just a plain lie, sweet thing,” Astarion laughed. “You forget- I know exactly how you reacted to my little ministrations from before. I know what made you the most desperate. What spots made you the sweetest and how to play them just right. I’ve spent many a night studying you, Gale Dekarios, and tonight I’m going to show the results in person.”

With that, Astarion felt they had talked enough. He wrapped both arms around Gale’s waist, pinning him to his body and then lowered his mouth to practically bury his face in his cunt, nose bumping against his clit as he let his tongue explore as deep as he could, lapping at him over and over again.

Gale’s thighs clamped around his head, ankles hooking behind his neck, and Astarion was very grateful he didn’t need to breathe. He ate him out like he was a ravenous animal, having to consciously remind himself to be careful to not nick him with his fangs. Gale’s body squirmed against his, straining against Astarion’s restraining grip around his middle as he cried out his name, invoked the Gods, babbled lust-drunk words and clutched for anything he could reach. Astarion’s cock, trapped between his abdomen and Gale’s back, was achingly hard and dripping wet. He was quite sure he could find release just like this, mouth buried in the wizard’s delicious cunt and rubbing against his back, but he refused. He was going to come buried somewhere in the wizard, marking him for his own.

Gale’s abdomen started to clench under Astarion’s hands and the vampire reluctantly pulled back finally, face wet and sticky from Gale’s juices, restraint faltering as the wizard let out a whine, trying to pull him back in. Gale’s face was wet with tears, pink lips parted as he gasped for breath, eyes bright with lust and love. Astarion could deny him no longer and his lips and tongue finally went where Gale wanted it most.

Astarion knew from experience that Gale’s clit was extremely sensitive. From his days with the toy, he knew that sometimes it only needed a few tweaks to make him come, and come hard. Perhaps an unexpected effect of his months of celibacy. Since they had kissed, he’d been unable to get it out of his mind: where once all he’d been able to think about was how much he never wanted to touch another person that intimately again, to now having to restrain himself from letting his hands wander down when the wizard was relaxing in his arms or kissing him passionately behind a tree. No more restraint, no more hesitation: this was all he ever wanted now.

The first touch of his tongue to his clit had Gale making a high-pitched keening noise, biting his lip hard enough to bruise it. Astarion didn’t look away from him, letting his gaze stay steady on Gale’s as he swirling the tip of his tongue around the little hard bud and then flicked it gently. He could feel Gale trembling at every teasing touch, his thighs widening and ankles pulling gently at the back of his neck to coax him for more. He laved his tongue over his clit and drew it between his lips, at the same time drawing one hand away from Gale’s waist and letting the tips of his fingers hook between his folds.

Gale was practically hyperventilating now, walls spasming at his fingertips as though trying to suck them in. Astarion started a gentle suction on his clit, almost in a pulsing rhythm and Gale threw his head back with a loud moan, hips trying to buck up, to get something more and Astarion obliged, letting two fingers slide between his folds and deep into him. Gale was achingly hot and tight around his fingers, so wet that Astarion didn’t need any lubrication to finger him slow, fingertips exploring those slick, velvety walls and searching for something. His fingers pressed against something different and Gale’s cunt clenched around them so tightly, Astarion wondered if he’d ever be able to get them back, or if they just belonged to Gale now.

And wasn’t that an arousing thought?

“Astarion,” Gale gasped out, sounding close to tears as the vampire steadily broke him into pieces, mind so overcome with pleasure, words became difficult. “Please… I need…”

Responding would mean having to stop and that was inconceivable now. Astarion continued to work at him, sucking gentle on his clit, occasionally letting it pop free from between his lips to let his tongue swirl around it, fingers working to loosen Gale up, occasionally brushing that spot that had the wizard leaking more and more.

“You want my cock?” Astarion said, finally pulling back a scant inch. “Do you want me to fold you in half and plow your pretty cunt, darling? You’ve had my tongue and my fingers there, but not that, have you? Has anyone ever had you wrapped so snugly around them before, my pet?”

“N-no,” Gale said and Astarion could’ve sworn he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. “I- I’ve had my d-dalliances with people… before Mystra… but no one ever-”

“Gale,” Astarion interrupted. He had gone completely rigid. “Are you telling me no one has fucked you before?”

It shouldn’t have been possible for Gale to turn any redder, but he did and he squirmed loose from Astarion’s loosening grip, shifting further back on the bed. For lack of anything else for his hands to do, he straightened out his hopelessly rumpled and stained lingerie. “I-most of my… experiences with people never went beyond quick encounters… hands, mouths, those sort of things… and with Mystra, everything was in the Astral Plane… it didn’t seem- I didn’t feel I was missing out on anything…”

Gale knew Astarion was quick, but he must have teleported or something because between one blink and the other, the vampire was hovering over him, face only scant inches away from. “No one has been inside you before,” Astarion said bluntly, still slightly disbelieving. “I’m going to be-”

“The first one,” Gale said breathily, correctly picking up that this seemed to be an arousing factor for Astarion. He brought his hands up to cup the vampire’s face and draw him down for a kiss, tasting himself on his lips. “You’ll be the first person inside me… and the only one to ever be, if you would have it be so.”

Astarion groaned into the kiss, the sound almost feral as he plundered Gale’s mouth like he had his cunt, kissing him so deeply, he was probably about to make the wizard gag. And without any further preamble, he shuffled down and this time, there was no buildup, no teasing. He put his mouth on Gale’s cunt, drew his clit in between his lips and sucked hard.

Later, Gale would describe it as an out-of-body experience, similar to how he described what being in the Astral Plan was like. Nothing but weightless, endless sensation. His mind was filled with nothing but pure, indescribable pleasure as the coil tightening in his abdomen throughout the night snapped and he let out a hoarse scream that could likely be heard from the street as he bucked his hips up against Astarion’s mouth and came harder than he had ever done in his life. The force of it almost made him black out and Astarion was relentless, sucking and licking at him to draw it out, drawing his back into an even tighter arch until he feared he would snap, another warbling cry escaping him as the waves of pleasure suddenly surged again, just as intense as before, sweeping over him until it felt like he tumbling endlessly among the waves as pleasure surged again and again and again-

He didn’t know when it ended.

Slowly, he came back to himself, feeling first the sensation of a soft blanket against his skin, then a hand stroking his hair, a thumb brushing his cheek to wipe away the tears he didn’t remember shedding. He was being held, an arm wrapped around him, tucking him close to a cool body, cool lips pressed against his forehead, legs tangled with legs.

Finally, his eyesight seemed to come back to him as he blinked bleary eyes open and took stock of where he was. Things came in drips as he remembered greeting Astarion, a warm bath, endless kisses and touches, the most incredible pleasure-

“I think I may have passed out,” Gale slurred, blinking slowly. A chuckle reverberated through his chest.

“Oh you did,” Astarion said, voice more smug than Gale had ever heard. “Not before making an utter mess of me and the sheets though. You exceeded my expectations, my delightful darling.”

A flash of an image, of Astarion hovering above him soaked from chin to chest by Gale’s arousal, made him shiver and Astarion held him tighter. “M-my apologies…”

“Oh don’t you dare apologize for that,” Astarion purred. “If I weren’t sure it would completely break you, I’d be right back between your thighs and making you do that for every waking moment of our lives.”

Gale whined and Astarion chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple, “Rest, my darling. I don’t think you’re going to be up for anything else tonight.”

“But you didn’t…”

“Oh, I did. Did you think I was going to be unaffected after seeing you do that?”

“But you didn’t… inside me,” Gale said, a hint of petulance in his voice.

“Well, then we have something to look forward to, don’t we?” Astarion nudged his face back to press a kiss to his lips and then tucked him against his body, curling around him until it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ve already told the others that we are unavailable for the next 24 hours. Tomorrow when we wake up… we’re not leaving this room until I’ve made you completely and irrevocably mine.”

Chapter 19: First Times

Summary:

The boys have their first time.

It was the best trance of Astarion’s life.

He woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows, warming the room and the sheets, the faint chatter of voices from the tavern and a warm, lovely body in his arms. Gale was still deeply asleep, unsurprising considering the wreck Astarion had made of him yesterday, and Astarion took some time to just watch him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had woken up with someone he had bedded, too often stealing away in the night or worse, being thrown out by Cazador while he feasted. For once, he had something just for him: not for his survival, not for his former Master, just for himself.

He pushed back some of Gale’s unruly hair to press a kiss to his forehead and indulged in the lie-in for some more time, listening to Gale’s sleep mumbles (reciting the ingredients for a roast he thinks) before it reminds him that humans needed to eat. Despite his reluctance to move, the wizard would undoubtedly need some calories to make up what he burned last night and Astarion shoved himself into some pants and crept downstairs. Roveer was happy – well happy as he ever was – to provide him with a decent breakfast: bread, sausages, eggs, porridge and tea. Astarion snuck some honey and jam as well before heading back upstairs.

By the time he got back and had de-pantsed himself, Gale seemed to just be stirring, having rolled onto his back to sprawl along the bed and stretch out, Astarion wincing at the cacophony of cracks and pops that came from the motion.

“Looks like your knees aren’t the only joints to be worried about,” Astarion commented, walking over with the tray and setting it down.

“You weren’t worried about any of them with the ways you tried to fold me in half,” Gale shot back, shifting to prop his chin up on his hand. Astarion shouldn’t find the sight of him like this so attractive, but fuck Gale wore the ‘just-woke-up-after-a-good-fuck’ look so well.

“Hence the ‘tried to’ rather than ‘succeeded in’,” Astarion raised an eyebrow as Gale scowled at him. “Now, it has come to my attention that humans need to food at least three times a day, so eat up before it gets cold.”

“What about you?” Gale asked, sitting up and drawing the tray closer to himself. Astarion stared at his bare torso for a bit longer, cataloguing the small marks and bruises along the expanse of golden skin. Gods, he was so gorgeous. “Astarion?”

“Hm?” the vampire spawn blinked and then registered the question. “Oh, I’m fine, darling. I had a nibble yesterday during the expedition and I’m good for a while longer.”

“It doesn’t seem to just eat in front of you,” Gale said with a slight frown. “You can go and… hunt if you like, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, I think I told you what needs to happen before either of us leave this room,” Astarion said with a smirk and Gale’s flush indicated he remembered. “As it happens, I’m quite happy to wait.”

“Well, I’m not,” Gale mumbled, fiddling with a triangle of toast. “I- if you want of course, I’m not saying you have to – if you were so inclined… after Elminister stabilized the orb, I think it’s effects have been muted, so I should – again, I’m only making an offer, but I am doing so gladly if that is in fact something that you may be interested in – or may not be! I know I nearly poisoned you last time and I sincerely do apologize for tha-”

“Gale, you’re rambling again,” Astarion said in amusement. “Ten words, darling, I know you can do it.”

Gale gave him a half-hearted baleful look but Astarion just grinned back until he sighed. “I was saying… if you would like to, I’m happy to… feed you.”

Astarion blinked. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I don’t mind if you’d want to drink from me,” Gale looked down at the porridge he was stirring absently. “I don’t think my blood will be as… malignant to your palate as before, but I could be wrong. There isn’t, after all, any research to indicate the exact effects of a Netherese orb on one’s body, but if you’d like to try-”

“Oh I do,” Astarion said and the heat in his eyes made Gale shiver. “So you better eat up, darling. Because I made a few promises I intend to keep and we’re not leaving this room until the next sunrise.”

Gale inhaled the rest of his breakfast quickly enough that Astarion was worried he would choke, but then the tray was pushed off to the side, a mage hand taking it to the dining table, and they were tangled up soon enough. Astarion felt he would never getting tired of kissing his wizard, especially when he tasted so sweet from his indulgent use of the honey Astarion had provided. His hand slid from Gale’s hair down to briefly squeeze his ass and then to his thigh, bringing it up over his own and grinding his hips down. He swallowed Gale’s moan and brought both hands to his ass, drawing his hips up and making a space for himself between his thighs.

“I don’t think I can draw this out,” Astarion gasped into the kiss, groaning as Gale nipped at his bottom lip. “I’ve been dying to get inside you-”

“No more teasing,” Gale agreed, tilting his head to accept another deep, probing kiss. “Please…”

Astarion back onto his heels with one last peck and had to grip himself tightly at the base to prevent a premature accident as he looked down at a ravished, debauched wizard, still bearing his marks from last night and looking up at him with pure want. Astarion would let all of Faerun burn if it meant he got to see this sight everyday: the sunlight streaming from the windows, making Gale’s tanned skin glow golden where it fell on him, small bruises dotting it in stark contrast. If Gale in lingerie had been an incredible sight, Gale with nothing was incomparable, just planes of bare skin and a pleasantly furry torso leading down to long, lean legs and a perfectly framed cunt.

Astarion had experienced some of its pleasures before he’d even know it was him, but this… this was going to be their first thing they shared knowingly with each other.

He leaned down to kiss the wizard again, Gale’s arms opening to welcome him without any thought to it, and his hand strayed down to press one finger gently into him. He swallowed the moan and felt him already starting to get wet, the glide becoming smoother as he worked him open. He let his thumb circle around his clit to coax him to relax more and then gave it a press, just to make him shudder.

“You’re so damn tight,” Astarion said, nipping at his chin. “You’re going to feel so damn good around me…”

“Please hurry,” Gale gasped, another shiver coursing through him at another gentle rub of his most sensitive spot and Astarion slipped another finger inside. “I can’t wait anymore…”

“Trust me, it’s taking every ounce of self control I have to not plunge inside you right now,” the vampire growled, drawing his fingers out and fucking them in hard, making Gale arch his back. “But I refuse to hurt you… so we’ll both just have to be patient…”

Words seem to fail both of them as the only sound in the room was breathless gasps and moans, the wet sounds of Astarion plunging his fingers into his increasingly soaked cunt and the occasional murmurs of ‘love you’. Gale felt the coil in his abdomen tighten and his hand fumbled to wrap around Astarion’s wrist.

“I-I’m going to come-!” he gasped, trying to pull Astarion’s hand away or at least slow him down. Instead, the vampire wrapped one arm around his shoulders to hold him close and then started to move his hand even faster, fingers plunging into Gale harder and harder despite the half-hearted restraint on his wrist, stirring and dragging against his walls, searching for that spongy little spot he had discovered last night. Gale’s mouth dropped open in a loud moan and Astarion watched his eyes roll back as he started rubbing tight circles around his clit.

The next moment, he felt those hot walls clamp tight around his fingers as Gale’s hips started to buck uncontrollably against his hand with a cry, fucking himself through what looked like an intense orgasm. Astarion met each of his motions, feeling like Gale would swallow his hand with the force of his movements (and that was a lovely little idea to save for later), working him through the orgasm and drawing it out until his wizard was slumped in his arms, panting like he had run a marathon. This time when Astarion withdrew his fingers, they were soaked in his darling’s slick and he made sure to show them to Gale.

“The sweetest treat I’ve ever had,” he said with a lewd lick over his fingers, making Gale whine.

“You degenerate,” Gale said in a dazed tone, but with such a pleased, fond smile, it warmed Astarion from the inside. The vampire grinned back, just as soft, and shifted so that he was kneeling in between his thighs, leaning forward for a kiss, letting Gale taste himself on his tongue. He used the remaining slick on his fingers to coat himself, groaning as he kept it to a few quick passes, not wanting to come too early. Gale looked down with half-lidded eyes as Astarion’s dick pressed against his cunt and bit his lip as he reached down to spread his lips for him in a silent invitation, one that Astarion was all too happy to take.

“I love you,” Astarion said, using his hand to guide him and he slowly started to press into his lover, biting his lip almost hard enough to bleed as wet, tight heat wrapped around the tip of his dick as it slowly sank within his depths. Gale’s breath hitched and left him in a low keen as he felt himself stretched far beyond anything he had had before, intense fullness almost on the verge of too much had Astarion not been going at a snail’s pace.

“It’s so much-” the words choked in Gale’s throat, too much effort right now when every part of him was focused on Astarion and the sensation of him filling a void he hadn’t even know had been within him.

“It’s okay,” Astarion said, trembling from the effort of not just sinking the rest of the way. “If you want to stop-”

“No!” Gale cried out, eyes flying open and looking at Astarion with desperation. “No, don’t stop, please don’t stop-”

“Shhh,” the vampire reached out with his other hand to cup his cheek, stroking the line of it with his thumb. “I won’t stop, but I don’t want to hurt you… slowly, okay?”

Gale nodded, his other hand coming up to cover Astarion’s on his face, eyes closing as he took deep breaths to try and relax. Astarion slowly inched deeper, taking his time with it until he was nearly halfway. He pulled back slowly, groaning at the drag of hot, slick walls against him and Gale’s whine as he was emptied, but then pushed back in a little faster and spreading him open again.

“More, please,” Gale said with a whine, wrapping his legs around Astarion’s waist and trying to coax him deeper. The spawn refused to be hurried though, taking his time with it.

“Gods, you’re impatient-” Astarion said, then squeaked as, with surprising strength, Gale pulled at him with his legs and managed to somehow buck his hips at the same time, sinking Astarion down to the hilt, making them both moan loudly.

“You Gods-damned terror,” Astarion growled, glaring down at a very smugly grinned Gale.

“You were taking too long, old man,” Gale shot back and laughed at Astarion’s only partially faked look of outraged offense.

“Old- you’re going to regret that, you mouthy brat,” Astarion growled in an attempt to hide his own burgeoning smile, gripping Gale’s hips to tilt them up and then pulling back to plunge into him proper.

They both moaned in unison as Astarion sank in to the hilt, taking a second to make sure Gale showed no signs of pain before he started a rhythm, pulling back almost enough to withdraw completely and then surging forward to fill the wizard over and over again. Gale was gripping the bed sheets for dear life, face flushed as Astarion fucked him open again and again, pleasure surging through him with every thrust. It was nothing he had ever felt before and he couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without realizing how fucking good it felt to indulge in such carnal acts in the material plane. Though, perhaps a lot of that was simply Astarion being very very good at what he was doing.

Astarion was not faring much better. He’d been aching to be inside the wizard for days now and he could scarcely believe it had finally happened. The sensation of Gale, wet, slick and tight, wrapped around his dick felt like a dream, one that he was quite happy not to wake from. In all his years, he couldn’t remember sex ever feeling so good, nor so safe, and he knew that he was going to very quickly get addicted to it. Maybe his fascination with Raphael’s toy had nothing to do with the toy itself at all, he was maybe just always attuned to be attracted to anything Gale.

“Gods, Astarion, I’m so-” Gale could’ve sworn there was something in the air or in the water because he was already so close to coming again, and so close to the last time. He hadn’t thought it was possible on the material plane, but he was already starting to feel that warmth curl in his abdomen again as Astarion continued to pound into him, balls clapping against his ass.

“Don’t hold back for me, darling,” Astarion gasped out. “I want to see you come until you pass out,” he leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose, “And then I’m going to keep fucking you until you wake up again.”

He leaned down to capture the mage’s lips again and knew the moment Gale hit that crescendo as they both moaned into the kiss, Gale’s walls and legs clamping around him tightly enough that it was almost impossible to move. He ground into Gale to work him through his orgasm, savoring every twitch and whimper that escaped him. “More than a year celibate, my poor needy darling… we have a lot to make up for.”

“Mm, please tell me you’re not planning to make me come for each day I had to refrain,” Gale said, little more than a loose-limbed puddle cradled in soft sheets. It was a good look for him. “We do need to get back to the others eventually…”

“Hm, I suppose we could make that a long term goal,” Astarion said with a long-suffering sigh. “But since we’ve got the momentum going… I think we can get a wonderful head-start today.”

“Hm? Ah- Astarion!”

Gale yelped as Astarion hooked his arms underneath his knees and brought them up to drape over his shoulders and then he leaned forward to pin the wizard’s shoulders back against the bed, practically folding him in half. Astarion rose up onto his knees and started to fuck into him with intent this time, every sign of restraint discarded in favour of nothing but pure, raw need. Gale let out a warbling cry, feet flailing in the air as each thrust had him jolting on the bed, only Astarion’s grip keeping him from being pushed all the way the headboard.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so fucking long,” Astarion growled, shoving in deep and rotating his hips, making Gale squeal. “Ever since I knew what your cunt looked like, I’ve been picturing you like this before me. I’ve never felt safe to fantasize about anything before, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. I’ve lost count the number of nights I’ve tranced thinking about what you would look like spread out beneath me, the noises you would make… and then you had the fucking audacity to be such a beautiful, kind, intelligent, mouthy little thing and making me love you-”

“Astarion...” Gale gripped his wrists, not to push him away or even slow him down, just to anchor himself. His face was flushed a deep red, brown doe eyes glazed with pleasure and lust, hair a completely mess from Astarion’s hands and rolling around on the bed: he looked completely wrecked and it made a primal part of Astarion purr in delight.

“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I’ve wanted you,” Astarion growled, one hand shifting to splay along Gale’s chest, covering the orb, the other tangling fingers with Gale’s and pinning that talented, long-fingered hand to the bed. “I want to see you go to sleep and watch you wake up in the morning. I want to spend my days watching you read, research, cook, putter around the camp, and then spend my nights bringing to ecstasy over and over until you can’t bear it anymore. I want to fuck your mouth, your tits, your perfect cunt, your perfectly round ass, and fill you up so that you remember today and every day after that you are mine…”

Gale looked up at him with huge eyes, practically hyperventilating as Astarion continued to fuck into him like he was trying to break him. All the softness and tenderness was gone for now, replaced with pure animal lust. He had pursued his prey and now had him on his back before him, exposing his most tender parts and Astarion would take and take and take until nothing was left of him. He was barely holding on to his sanity.

And then Gale made a low whine and tilted his head back invitingly and he was lost.

He barely managed to send out a questioning pulse via the tadpole and wait for the confirmation before he gripped Gale’s other hand and slammed it onto the bed, leaning down and sinking his fangs into the soft skin of his neck. The moment the blood hit his tongue, everything else was swept away. It was just as he imagined: rich and refined, like a well-aged brandy. There was a hint of bitterness lingering from the orb, though it was perhaps a blessing as it stopped him from losing himself to the exquisite taste.

He was vaguely aware that Gale was whimpering next to his ear, wrists straining a bit against Astarion’s tight grip on them, legs twitching where they were draped over his elbows, keeping him spread open as Astarion sank as deep as he possibly could and then filled that hot, wet cunt with his cum, ensuring not even a drop had the chance to escape.

It was an effort to pull away after a few mouthfuls, licking at the wounds to help stem the bleeding. He wished he’d had the foresight to keep his pack within arm’s reach, or at least a potion. Then he felt something bump against his arm and a mage hand holding a potion of healing, which it then dropped into Gale’s palm.

“Hands,” Gale mumbled, voice a bit faint.

“Fuck,” Astarion pulled back, releasing his wrists and letting Gale’s legs fall to the bed. Gale seemed quite content to stay exactly as he was and Astarion snatched the healing potion and uncorked it, tipping it into Gale’s mouth, which seemed to be becoming an uncomfortably common thing for them. At least his spine was intact this time.

The potion worked quickly and Gale’s skin took on a healthy flush again. The red handprints around his wrists faded as well, though he seemed a bit mournful about it, bringing one up to watch it fade. Astarion’s marks in his neck scabbed over, but the faint hint of them remained, the simple potion not quite enough to heal those.

“I think,” Gale said mildly, letting his hand drop back to the bed in an easy sprawl, “that you have made quite a mess of me, my love.”

Astarion took a moment to take stock of him: the healing potion had healed most of the marks on him, though some just faded into faint bruises. Gale was covered in a light sheen of sweat, some of it making trails in his chest hair. A few lines of blood mingled with the sweat to stain the patch of bedsheet just below his neck and his hair looked like he’d… well, like he’d been fucked quite soundly. Though the true spectacle was further down.

Gale’s cunt was a mess of slick and come, dripping onto the sheet when Astarion had pulled out. The sight and smell of their intermingled essences soothed some feral part of Astarion that was preening at having marked his wizard irreversibly as theirs. That same part induced Astarion to settled back between those splayed thighs and to take his tongue to that mess, Gale unable to do much more than whimper breathlessly as Astarion slid his tongue deep inside him to scoop out as much of the mess he could. His own cum was rather tasteless, but mingled with Gale’s sweet, musky taste, it was a combination he could very quickly get addicted too, especially with the rice taste of Gale’s blood still lingering on his tongue. The more he licked his way around, the stronger Gale’s taste, breathing becoming more laboured above him until, with a grunt and a tensing of the body, he felt Gale gush onto his tongue once more and worked him through it, only pulling back when Gale’s hand fumbled onto his head and pushed at him.

“No more,” Gale gasped, still trembling from the aftershocks, “Gods, I feel like my heart is going to give out…”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Astarion said, leaning forward to kiss him. This time there was no heat, no pent up tension, just a gentle, simple glide of lips. “You were spectacular, my darling.”

“Me? Thanks the Gods for Elminister’s charm, or I’m afraid I would have decimated the entire Sword Coast,” Gale said with a breathless laugh. “Gods, I haven’t… I had no idea it could feel like that on the material plane…”

“Better than the Astral plane?”

“Incomparable,” Gale brought heavy arms up to cup Astarion’s face in his hands. Astarion covered them with his own, feeling the almost imperceptible trembling of his muscles. “There are no words that could describe how incredible it felt… I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Astarion leaned in for another kiss, letting his body rest on Gale’s. “Think you can manage a bath?”

“Mm, maybe later?” Gale wrapped his arms around him and then shifted onto their sides. A haphazard wave of the hand and waggle of the fingers and the bed was clean. “I think I need another nap…”

Astarion pulled the covers over them both and cuddled into Gale’s arms, wrapping his own around him in return. “There’s that brilliant mind at work.”

Chapter 20: Choices to be Made

Summary:

A trip to Sharess' Caress results in a familiar face and unfamiliar hesitation.

Notes:

And we're back to our regularly scheduled plotting!

Surprisingly, not much changed.

They still adventured together more often than not. Tav, Karlach, he and Gale had always been somewhat of a regular retinue, and though they did occasionally have others join them, over time it had become clear that the four of them just tended to work much better together.

What did change was small, but good.

They went to bed together almost every night now. The bunks were not quite big enough for two, even less so for two plus one tressym, but they made it work. Occasionally, when the mood took them, they rented the suite and tested the boundaries of Gale’s Silence spell. So far, Astarion hadn’t quite made him break his concentration, though he’d come close.

It was definitely harder to keep their hands off each other. Astarion had been delighted to discover that Gale had a very… physiological response to combat (in Gale’s words) and they had more than once absconded to some shadowy corner – or in one memorable occasion broken into someone’s house – to take care of it. Gale’s use of prestidigitation had never been so useful and Astarion’s jaw and wrist had never been so sore.

Some days, they were separated into different groups, such as when the group went to go rescue the Duke and the Gondians from Gortash’s underwater prison. Astarion had wanted to go, but Tav insisted a small team would be easier to keep track of. He, Karlach, Gale and Wyll had left early in the morning, Astarion having been recruited in the second group featuring Lae’zel and Shadowheart, who wanted to go see Voss in Sharess’ Caress.

Astarion grimaced as they walked in, the scent of perfume, alcohol and bad decisions reminding him far too much of the thousands of nights spent here, looking for a pretty thing to bring back to his master. He kept an eye out for any of his ‘siblings’ as Lae’zel marched over to Voss. He only paid half attention to the conversation, his attention grabbed by the dwarf woman talking to one of the bartenders.

“ – and Raphael-”

He abruptly turned around, ignoring Shadowheart’s questioning look and marched right over to his target, who looked over at him with a smug smile.

“Can I help you?” she asked with a knowing look.

“Where is that damned devil?” Astarion said, cutting straight to it.

“Hm, he told me you were more fun than this,” she said, pouting. “You’ve already cost me five soul coins, you know. I had bet you would’ve fucked your pretty toy before you find out what it did. Such a shame…”

Astarion saw red and his hand went down to his dagger. “Do not make me ask you again.”

“Alright, alright, no need to be so dramatic. Honestly, no sense of decorum in vampires these days,” she tutted. “My name’s Korilla, by the way. Not that you bothered to ask. Raphael’s rented a room upstairs in the hopes you’d drop by. You should take your little friends with you, he’s got an offer they would find very intriguing.”

“Unless the offer is to stand still while I gut him like a fish, I’m not interested,” Astarion snapped. Korilla just rolled her eyes.

“Look, go have a drink, refresh and then go and see him. Raphael’s not a bad guy, he wants the same thing as you. Don’t squander opportunity just because you didn’t think to ask any questions about your own desired reward.” She turned back towards the bar and Astarion resisted the urge to just slit her throat. That was for later.

He joined Lae’zel and Shadowheart, who informed him of Voss’ request. He supposed that was what Korilla meant by Raphael’s offer. He had no interest in hearing anything more, but Lae’zel refused to leave without seeing him, so he reluctantly followed them up. He passed by Elminster’s Library and made a mental note to bring Gale here, just to outrage him.

“Devil’s Den,” Shadowheat scoffed. “Raphael does like his themes.”

“Hm, like an overpaid theatre actor,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “Are you sure we can’t just leave?”

Lae’zel glared at him.

“Fine! Fine, lead the way.”

Raphael was indeed sitting and waiting for them. He lit up as they walked in.

“Ah, my dear friends! I have been waiting for you-”

“Get to the point, devil,” Astarion interrupted, feeling a tinge of satisfaction as Raphael glared him.

“So impatient,” the devil tutted. “Very well, but before we begin…” he snapped his fingers and the tadpoles fell silent. Astarion blinked in surprise, exchanging a look with the others.

“I’m afraid the tadpole is still there, but I shut out your other visitor so we can have some… privacy,” Raphael said. “Now then, let me first admit: you’ve all impressed me. I wasn’t sure you’d make it this far-”

Astarion tuned out the majority of Raphael monologue, but he gleaned the details: the devil wanted the Crown sitting on the Netherbrain (tough, he was gonna have to fight his wizard for it) and had a weapon that could free the Githyanki prince that he was willing to give them in return. Before Lae’zel could open her mouth, Astarion jumped in.

“No deal,” Astarion said, feeling Lae’zel’s incredulous gaze turned into seething annoyance against the side of his face. “I don’t know much about that oversized headdress aside from that it’s an object of incredible power, but I do know that giving something like that to a devil, particularly you, would be a new brand of insanity that I’ve not quite reached yet.”

“And since when have you cared about any of that?” Raphael raised an eyebrow and then his grin took on a more malicious edge. “Oh, is this about your little wizard? Did he tell you the story of Karsus? He probably left out the best bits.” Raphael gestured to himself with a theatrical bow, “I was there when it happened, you know. Entire cities plummeted from the skies, like angels with broken wings. The screams, oh the screams, hundreds of thousands of people watching in horror as the ground came up to meet them. It was not a happy meeting.”

He held Astarion’s gaze, “And Karsus was responsible. Not driven by malice, but by ambition. He forged a Crown imbued with all the powers of magic that would make any who wore it a God. But men cannot contain so much power. The Crown destroyed its creator, and his empire fell with him.” He tilted his head, expression turning curious, “I wonder what it would do to your wizard…”

“He has nothing to do with this,” Astarion growled. “And you think that little story is going to convince me the Crown would be any better off in your hands?”

“But of course! I assure you, my aim has nothing to do with the Material Plane and all to do with the Hells. As long as that Crown is here, there will always be a chance someone will use it to repeat Karsus’ Folly. You have your evidence in the form of your little wizard. Karsus’ ambition drove him to use the Crown and he ended his entire empire. Do you truly think Mystra's disgraced Chosen will fair any better?”

“Gale knows what he’s doing,” Astarion snarled, but Raphael’s words chipped at his conviction. “If anyone can use Karsus’ accursed Crown to ascend, it would be him.”

“Oh? And what will happen to him then?” Raphael raised an eyebrow. “Do you truly think him ascending will solve all of your problems? Have you ever heard of a mortal ascending to Godhood and it having a happy ending? Even if he does survive, what do you think all that power, immortality, would do to him? Do you think he’ll remain your sweet little darling?”

Astarion opened his mouth to spit some other vitriol… but found that he couldn’t. Raphael, sensing the hesitation, continued. “Mortals aren’t meant to become Gods. You might not have paid much attention, but let’s take the example of a God you’re likely familiar with. Mystra was once human, you know. Not even a century ago. A mortal woman with mortal wants and needs and desires. And now she’s ordered her former lover and Chosen to go and die for her with the same concern one would discard a broken toy. How long do you think it’ll take before history repeats itself?”

Astarion didn’t say anything. Then, “No deal, Raphael. We will figure this out without you.”

Raphael tutted and Lae’zel’s glare became furious. “That’s what they all say. I’ll be here, waiting for you to change your mind, until the world ends.” He snapped his fingers and dumped them all outside the room, the door closing behind them.

“Have you lost control of your senses?” Lae’zel snapped at him, fists clenched. “We need that Hammer to free Prince Orpheus-”

“And give the fucking devil the power of an object that could turn mortals into Gods?” Astarion snapped back. “Use your Gods-damned head! You might be returning to Astral Plane and thus have no reason to give a fig about this world, but most of us still have to live here!”

“Enough!” Shadowheart stepped in before the matter escalated further. “Astarion is right, but-” she held up her hand as Lae’zel opened her mouth to protest, “we still have a way to get that Hammer.” She lowered her voice, “We know where it is and that it’s possible to break in there.”

“The diabolist,” Astarion murmured. “I do know of one in Baldur’s Gate. If we can get access to his little ‘House of Hope’, we can take the Hammer for ourselves.”

“Tsk'va, fine. As long as the Prince is freed, I do not care how we do it,” Lae’zel grumbled and marched off. Shadowheart and Astarion exchanged a roll of eyes before following.

During the trek back to the Tavern, Raphael’s words kept running Astarion’s head. He’d been supportive of Gale’s proposal to use the Crown, figuring more power would benefit them even more. And he knew his darling had the right stuff for it: brave, ambitious, kind, all good qualities. But what if Raphael was right?

If Gale ascended to Godhood, would all that power erase the very things about him that Astarion had grown to love? And if it did… did Gale’s Galeness mean more to him than having the power of a God at his side?

It was a question he pondered until the skies turned dark and he heard the other group finally return from their expedition.

“You took your time,” Astarion said, craning his hand form his reclining position on the bed. He barked out a laugh as the soaking wet wizard gave him a baleful look.

“Don’t you even start or I’ll polymorph you into a sheep,” Gale grumbled, tossing a pile of shimmering, scaly fabric onto his bed and then rummaging in his pack for his sleep clothes. He turned towards one of the communal bathtubs in the area and Astarion took the time to snoop.

It was… well, Astarion hesitated to call it a robe because it barely met the criteria of a dress. The fabric was quite well made, the blue shimmering scales and gold chains looking delicate but sturdy. He could feel magic radiating off it as well, which might be why Gale had brought it back. He let out a low whistle as he took in the long slits along the sides of the dress, going far above where hips would end, as well as the long deep cut V at the front and the diamond cut-out of the back.

All in all, the ‘robe’ would barely cover anything and he can’t imagine it providing much protection… but when he imagined what a certain someone would look in it…

“It was a gift from the servants of Umberlee.”

Astarion started and turned around to see Gale looking at him with amusement, now clad in his velvet pyjamas, looking warm and so, so soft as he towelled off his hair. Looks like he’d been staring at the dress longer than he thought. “Pardon?”

“The robe. We received it from Umberlee’s temple for discovering who killed one of her devotees,” Gale clarified. “It’s got a decent amount of magic in it, but the, ah, lack of physical protection sort of renders it moot.”

“So why did you bring it back then?” Astarion asked, still holding the dress in front of him, though now it was hide what the effects of his fantasies had wrought upon him.

“Well, it was a gift for one, and that too from a very temperamental Goddess. I'd rather not have another one's ire turned upon me, one is plenty,” Gale said, drying his towel instantly with magic and folding it up. “Second, I wanted to admire some of the spellcraft. It’s quite a powerful healing item, you know, but only in water. I’m wondering if I can replicate something similar on my battle robes.”

“Ah. Well, if anyone could, it’d be you, my love.” Astarion reluctantly made to fold it, but Gale took it from his hands first. He hummed and held it up in front of him, laying it against his front like he was trying to see if it was his size. Astarion clasped his hands in front of himself.

“What do you think?” Gale asked, looking up at him from below his lashes, an effortlessly coy look that had Astarion clasping his hands even harder. “My style?”

“It’s al- ahem, it’s alright,” Astarion said, thankful he couldn’t blush as his voice cracked a bit. “It would enhance your ah, your… features. Quite well.” By features, he meant his tits, hips, ass – everything really.

“Just alright?” Gale asked with a little pout. “Ah well, suppose I’ll just hope to have better luck next time. We should be able to sell it for a pretty amount once I’m done studying-”

“-NO!” Astarion protested loud enough that he was quite sure the others heard them. Judging by Gale’s ‘Tara who caught the pigeon’ grin, they had. But the loss of pride was worth it if it meant Gale didn’t get rid of the robe. For academic purposes. “It was a gift, darling, you can’t just sell it. That would be so very gauche… I thought you were a gentleman.”

“Oh well, if it’s gauche, then we must most certainly not,” Gale agreed with mock sombreness. “I suppose I could just keep it for a… special occasion. After all, one can't always be a gentleman.”

“Gods yes,” Astarion said most fervently, and Gale laughed as he went to go pack the robe away very, very carefully.

As Gale slept in his arms later that night, Tara curled up in a ball at his stomach, Astarion watched him sleep, fingers playing with his hair as he watched his eyelids flutter in dreams. Listening to him mumble arcane theory, recipes and spells, Astarion wondered if Gods dreamt at all and if they ever had yearned for someone to hold them as they did.

Chapter 21: Words Hurt

Summary:

A family reunion...

It was perhaps fortuitous that Astarion had too much on his mind to let him sleep as he heard the intruders prowling in room before they had taken more than a few steps in. He covered Gale’s mouth with his hand as he shook him awake, pressing an absent, apologetic kiss to the side of his head at his lover’s befuddlement. Gale caught on quickly though and shifted to allow Astarion to sneak free from behind him, the vampire landing softly on his feet, daggers already in hand.

Gale still lay curled up on the bed, pretending to be asleep, but he had nudged Tara awake as well and nodded at Astarion’s questioning look: he was ready. Astarion held up two fingers and pointed in their direction, another firm nod, and then they leapt into action.

Astarion swiped his dagger out at the legs of the first intruder to cross into his line of sight and Leon tumbled to the ground with a shout. In the same instance, Gale shot to his feet on the bed, and with a loud shout of ‘Impero Tibi’, brought down storm of ice upon the two spawn searching the other side of the room just as Tara leapt up and tossed a fireball down at them. His incantation woke the rest of the party up and there was a mad scramble for weapons as the remaining spawn went on the offensive. The other spawn near their bed held her hands up, eyes darting between Astarion, Gale and the others.

“Peace, brother!” Aurelia said, holding her hands up, “We’re here to bring you home.”

“The Master needs all seven of us for the ceremony,” Leon gasped from the floor, Astarion’s dagger poised at his throat. “Come with us and live again!”

“Astarion is not going anywhere with you,” Gale snarled, lightning crackling around his fingers, Tara hissing as she hovered over him. “What does your master want with him?”

“The Rite,” Aurelia’s red gaze turned to him. “The Master needs all seven of us for it, he must return.”

“I’m well aware of what our Master needs,” Astarion said, scoffing. “But don’t we deserve more? Something better?” His eyes darted between Leon and Aurelia, “After all these centuries of torment, I know what you want. More than power, or walking in the sun.” His expression turned dark, “You want to see him dead.”

Astarion drew his dagger back and allowed Leon back onto his feet. Gale gave him a look, but Astarion ignored him, drawing himself up. “The Rite of the Profane Ascension will be mine, and he won’t see even a scrap of it’s glory. I am going to complete the ritual myself… and then I’m going to kill him.”

“Wha- Astarion,” Gale protested, but snapped his mouth shut when Astarion glared at him from the corner of his eyes, a silent ‘shut up’. He continued, “This is your chance. Stand by me. Name me your new Master and we will get our revenge! You will all live again!”

“Astarion!” Gale’s voice was shocked. “Have you no heart? You’re asking them to die for you!”

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Astarion snarled at him, feeling a pang of guilt at Gale’s taken aback expression. “Don’t give me that sweet little ‘I’m not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can’t take it!”

“Wait - die for him?” Aurelia’s voice was full of confusion, “What-”

Her words were cut off as her red gaze glowed brightly in the dark and Astarion knew the time for talking was over. He lunged forward with his dagger and sunk it into Leon’s chest, the spawn turning to mist and vanishing with a pained cry. At the same time, Aurelia lunged at Gale, who countered with an ice knife that pierced her chest and sent her away too. Judging the lack of noise beyond Karlach’s complaints about needing her beauty sleep, he could assume the others had vanished as well.

Astarion let out a sigh and wiped his dagger off the rug, turning to look at Gale. “What a mess… but I suppose you’ve met my family now.”

Gale did not look amused. In fact, as he shifted to sit down on the bed, he looked downright displeased. It wasn’t an expression Astarion was accustomed to seeing on him lately, and it brought back very unpleasant memories of the last time he had seen it. Of course, he couldn’t have anything good without something coming to ruin it…

“I can’t believe you lied to them like that,” Gale said in disappointed disbelief. “You know they’ll have to die for this Rite to happen-”

“You don’t know what it was like!” Astarion hissed. “There was no way out…” all the fight left Astarion’s tone. Gale’s eyes softened a bit, but the disapproval remained. The vampire looked away and took in an unnecessary but comforting breath. Then, voice shaking, “Once – in the first decade of my slavery – I found a darling boy who I couldn’t bear to bring back to him. He was a lot like you, actually. The sweetest thing: shy, smart, kind… I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him, so I ran.”

He sat down on the opposite bed, legs feeling too weak to hold him up. “After Cazador caught me… the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb. All on my own. For an entire year.” His gaze fell to his hands, lost in the memory. “A year of silence. Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to claw my way out. More months of not moving at all, wishing only for death.” He looked up at Gale, gaze full of anger that he had never directed towards the wizard before. “So don’t you ever judge me for what I’m willing to do to destroy him.”

Silence. Astarion’s gaze dropped to the ground, fingers clenching in an attempt to stop his hands from shaking. This was surely it. Gale had been living a fantasy thinking that Astarion could ever be more than what he was: a lying, conniving parasite that would condemn any and all that he needed to if it meant giving him an edge in the world. Astarion had shown his true colours now, had revealed all that he was. Had shown that were no lows he wouldn’t stoop to in the pursuit of power-

Warm fingers covered his and he startled as his gaze landed on the purple clad wizard kneeling in front of him, taking those shaking hands in his own and giving them a steadying squeeze. His gaze, not filled with loathing, but with sorrow as he looked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” Gale murmured softly, sincerely, “I have no words…”

Astarion wanted to take his hands in return, wanted to sink into that welcoming embrace and bury his face into his warmth and forget everything else outside of Gale. But he couldn’t. He would never be able to, as long as Cazador lived, and that hardened the resolve in his heart.

“Nothing can make up for that,” Astarion said, voice hoarse. “Not even Cazador’s death. But stealing his life’s work… that might do something.”

Gale didn’t say anything for a while, just held his hands until they stopped shaking. Then, gently, “What about your siblings? You don’t feel any sympathy for their plight?”

“No one ever looked out for me,” Astarion hissed, drawing his hands back and Gale let him go, just watching as he stood up and paced. “No one ever said a kind word to me!” he glanced back at Gale and his anger faltered a bit. “You’re the only one who ever did. Most people don’t have a heart like you, Gale, you’re… you. No one is like you.”

Gale watched him for a moment and then stood up. Astarion watched him warily as he walked over to stand in front of him. Slowly, giving Astarion all the time in the world to pull back and push him away, he brought his hand up to cup his cheek, Astarion’s eyes fluttering closed reflexively at the feel of his warm palm.

“You know that’s not true,” Gale murmured, the warm, gently conviction in his voice immediately causing any protests to die in his throat. “You have Tav. And Shadowheart. Karlach, Wyll, Lae’zel, Halsin, Jaheira, Minsc… all of these people care for you so deeply, Astarion. Tav promised you his hammer against Cazador before we even stepped foot in Baldur’s Gate and Karlach promised to ‘bash his face in’. Shadowheart always comes to you when she’s feeling troubled because she feels better in your company. All the others fought for you tonight to stop you from being taken…” He stepped closer and brought his forehead to lean against Astarion’s, “What Cazador did for you was awful, and I will take great pleasure in burning the bastard to ashes when we see him… but if you do this ritual, Astarion… I am afraid of what it will do to you.”

“It will make me powerful, Gale,” the vampire clung to his shoulders. “Can’t you see that? I’m doing this for both of us: you and me. So that we’re both safe, forever. For good.”

“If the ritual destroys everything that makes you you, then what will it matter if I’m safe?” Gale asked, voice pleading. “Please, I know you’re scared, I don’t blame you- I would be too, but I’m begging you to please think this through. You think that power will free you, stop you from being afraid, but it won’t! Such dark magic will always come with horrible consequences-”

“How is your plan to ascend to Godhood any different?” Astarion spat, pulling back from his hands.

“It is-”

“No, it bloody well isn’t!” Astarion shouted, uncaring that likely the whole camp could hear them. “You can ascend to be a God, but when I want to get some scrap of what is owed to me, now you balk?” He knew that this was going too far, that he should stop this; they both should and go to bed to talk about it in the morning when cooler heads prevailed. But it was too late to stop now. “Or is that your little plan, hm? Keep me weak while you ascend so that you can always have me under your thumb? Become my Mystra?”

“Boys, I think we should stop there-” Tara’s wary voice attempted to interrupt them, but they both ignored her.

“No!” Gale shouted back, appalled. “Astarion, how could you even think- I’m doing this for both of us! With that power, I could make sure no misfortune ever befalls us-”

“I should’ve known what you’re like,” Astarion chuckled bitterly. “Fucking wizards, you’re all the same. You want to hoard all the power to yourselves and damn any of us who want the same. You’re just like fucking Cazador-”

“ENOUGH!” Tara yowled loudly and they both fell silent, but it was far too late. Gale’s eyes were wide and filled with hurt and Astarion… Astarion didn’t- wouldn’t- care. He turned around and left silently, wondering when the day would come when he didn’t destroy everything fucking thing he ever touched.

Notes:

:|

Chapter 22: Sorry is the Hardest Word

Summary:

Apologizing is never easy... but it is important.

He did not come back until late in the afternoon.

When he did, the others said nothing, though he caught some sympathetic looks from some of them which just chaffed at him even more. Who in the Hells did they think they were pitying? He was about to become the ultimate vampire, the Ascendant: there was nothing pitiable about him.

Gale wasn’t in the rooms. Karlach started to explain that Elminister had come to see him, but then trailed off when Astarion just turned away from her. Tara was missing as well, which was probably for the best: he wouldn’t have put it past her to Fireball him considering how much he had likely hurt her kitten.

Tav informed him that they would be heading into the sewers to investigate the Murder Tribunal and Astarion, who wanted desperately to kill something, agreed to follow. They spent most of the day down there, emerging only late into the night, covered in blood, but with an Amulet of Bhaal and the location of Orin’s temple. The time to rescue Halsin was almost at hand, but Astarion found it difficult to particularly care. His mind was more focused on the ritual… he no longer had anything else to care about.

By the time they got back, the only person awake was Gale, who warmed the dinner he had made and handed out bowls to the three who would eat it and handed a goblet of fresh pig’s blood to Astarion. The vampire tried to catch his gaze, but Gale did not indulge him, working with a clinical efficiency to make sure everyone was fed and watered before retiring to bed, claiming tiredness.

Tara, however, watched him from her perch on one of the empty beds, green gaze fixed on him like she was staring down a particularly loathsome pigeon. Astarion ignored her as he bedded down on one of the extra beds in their rooms, far away from any wizards. However it was difficult to trance when one was being stared at so after trying his hardest to ignore her, he groaned and turned onto his side to meet her gaze.

“Get it over with, cat,” he said hoarsely. “You undoubtedly want to set me on fire for hurting him.”

“At least some of your senses are working,” Tara said, voice cold in a way that would’ve made him wince a few days ago. “As much as I would like to claw your eyes out for that awful thing you said to him… it seems that there were some benefits to your squabble.”

He laughed and it sounded rough and lifeless even to him. “Were there? Is it because you can now find him some lovely thing more suited for him?”

“If only,” Tara said dryly, shifting to stand on her paws and stretch. “But for some foolish reason, Mr. Dekarios’ heart is set on you. It’s one of his greatest flaws, as much as it is his strength. His heart is too loyal, even to those undeserving. He was the same with Mystra.”

“Do not compare me to that-” his own protests died as he looked at Tara, who gazed unblinkingly back.

“Mystra took advantage of my boy’s gentle heart often,” Tara said, voice steady and Astarion forced himself to listen. “She demanded a lot from him, more than anyone should, and then berated him when he failed. Gale always insisted that she didn’t understand what she was asking of him, that Gods understood time, the world and everything in it very differently from mortals. He found every excuse under the sun to justify her behaviour and when he couldn’t, he found every failing within himself to blame, but he never could turn it onto the person who deserved it most.”

She hopped down from the bed and padded over to sniff at Astarion’s discarded goblet of blood. She sat down primly. “When Gale loves someone, he does everything he can to make them happy. He will tear out parts of himself, remake his entire image, sacrifice anything and everything he has for their sake. Mystra knew that and she used it against him more times than I can count.” A piercing look. “I hope, Mr. Astarion, that you will not demand the same of him.”

Astarion laughed. A broken sound. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. I don’t think he even wants to look at me anymore.”

A sigh. “I thought elves were supposed to have good hearing.” A little shuffle and Astarion oofed as a heavy weight landed on his stomach. He blinked and there was a furry whiskered face inches away from his own.

“Listen to me,” Tara enunciated, likely she was speaking to someone who was exceptionally slow. “Gale remained devoted to Mystra even after she threw him out of her domain and left him alone for over a year with a deadly, painful condition that she could have taken care of with a snap of her fingers. He was still willing to die for her forgiveness until a few weeks ago.”

“So?” Astarion got out and then flinched as her paw bapped him on the forehead.

“So do you truly think an angry exchange of words would be enough to turn him from you?” she asked exasperatedly.

For the first time since the night before, Astarion felt a glimmer of warmth low in his stomach. It took him a second to recognize hope. “I was awful to him. I berated him, accused him- I told him he was-”

“Yes, yes, let’s not hash that out while I have my claws this close to your eyes, shall we?” Tara said sweetly, raising her paw again, but with claws this time and Astarion shut his mouth. “Do you truly want some advice on how to fix this?”

“Yes.” No hesitation, no niggling of pride.

“Apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“Apologize.”

“That’s-” Astarion blinked and stared at her incredulously. “That’s it? That’s your advice?”

“You’d be surprised how effective a simple, heartfelt apology can be.” Tara sat back on her haunches, still on his chest. “I will emphasize the ‘simple’ part of that. Mr. Dekarios has a tendency towards grand gestures, I don’t know if you share that proclivity. Either way, start with a simple apology. It can do wonders.” She tilted her head. "Mystra never apologized."

“I…” it couldn’t possibly be that easy, could it? Surely this was a plot of vengeance from Tara to humiliate him in return for him hurting Gale. But… what if it was true? Could he take that risk?

He was sitting up and walking towards Gale’s bunk before he even knew it.

The wizard was reclining on his side with a book open in front of him, fingers tracing along the words as he silently read to himself. He glanced up at Astarion’s approach, then turned back to it, not acknowledging him any further. Astarion stood there for a moment, at a loss of what to say and Gale didn’t seem inclined to throw him a bone, figuratively. Whatever was to be done here, Astarion would have to do it himself.

Tara flew past him and landed on the bedframe, giving Astarion an encouraging look with a twitch of her whiskers. That would work.

“Gale?” Astarion said, voice hoarse.

“Hm?” the wizard made an acknowledging hum and turned to the next page. Astarion’s courage almost left him, but he focused on how much he wanted to be curled up against Gale’s back as he read. He had to fix this.

“Can we… can we talk?”

“I can scarcely stop you from speaking if you wish to do so.”

“Right,” the vampire spawn sighed. Fine, he was not going to be met halfway on this one… “Look, about last night…” the paper crinkled under Gale’s fingers. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

That got Gale to finally look up, though his expression remained carefully neutral. Astarion could see the cautious hope in his eyes. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Like a dam had burst, everything came spilling out. “I’m sorry for what I said before, it was just… it was a damned lie and I said it because I knew-” he swallowed. “I knew it would hurt you. I wanted to hurt you in that moment. It was a foolish, stupid impulse and I have regretted it since the moment it left my mouth.”

He fell to his knees next to Gale’s bunk, words tumbling from his lips without any control from him. “I’m sorry, I can’t be what you see in me. I can’t be this… this person who does the right thing or the selfless thing, because that’s just not me. I’m selfish. I’m selfish and greedy and so fucking scared- no, I’m terrified-”

“Astarion,” Gale’s voice was alarmed, but the spawn barely registered it.

“I’m terrified that when we go to face Cazador, I’m going to end up under his control again,” his voice shook. “That he’ll kill you, all of you, or worse: he’d turn you and take you from me. Because that’s what he’ll do now that he knows we’re- we were together. Everything I’ve ever had, he’s taken it from me and I can’t- I won’t survive if he takes you too-”

“Astarion!” Warmth on his cheeks, gentle hands cupping his face and wide, concerned doe eyes looking at him. “Breathe with me, my love. Deep breath in..."

Though he didn’t need to breathe, Astarion followed his instructions, inhaling deeply and then holding it before exhaling. He slowly came back to himself and registered that he and Gale were both kneeling on the carpeted floor. Tara was rubbing her face against his thigh and his hand was automatically scratching behind her ears. Her fur was soft and it kept him grounded.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion repeated, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry, I’m so Gods-damned sorry and I will never forgive myself for saying that to you.”

Gale didn’t respond for a moment, but he didn’t draw his hands back or move away. Then, after a few moments, “I can’t say it’s okay because it isn’t. That was- like you said, you said that to hurt me, and you succeeded and I’m not going to forget that easily. But I do understand that you were not in your right mind when you said it and that you regret it. I appreciate the apology.”

“I keep hurting you,” Astarion’s voice broke. He felt raw and exposed, like a flayed nerve, unable to stem the wave of emotions coursing through him.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Gale said mildly. “You’ve hurt me a couple times, yes… but you’ve always apologized. And you’ve tried to make amends or learn from it, which is more than I’ve ever gotten before… plus, I knew the sort of man you were when we first got closer.”

“And what sort is that?” Astarion braced himself.

“A deeply wounded man who has had to experience the harshest conditions that would have driven any lesser man mad,” Gale said, drawing Astarion closer and resting his head on his shoulder, fingers combing through his curls. “Someone who hasn’t experienced a scrap of kindness in centuries, but still shows it to others. On occasion,” he added wryly. “Someone truly does want to protect me and his friends and sees the ritual as the only way he can do so… but doesn’t see that I want to protect him as much as he wants to protect me.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the side of Astarion’s head and the knot in the vampire’s chest finally loosened. “Someone who showed me that he was right about one thing: I couldn’t tell him not to ascend when I was going to do the same thing. My ritual may not have demanded 7 sacrifices, but it may have resulted in me wiping out everything about me that made me who I am… the very thing I was afraid his ritual would do to him. He’s always been very good at letting me know when I’m being a bloody hypocrite.”

“At lease you listen to him,” came Tara’s snarky addition and they both chuckled.

“You’re the man I love,” Gale murmured in his ear and Astarion’s heart soared. “And while you can be a complete and utter ass,” Gale emphasized the last bit, “you are everything to me.”

He clung to Gale like he was the only port in the storm… or the sunshine breaking through the centuries of darkness. He didn’t know what he had ever done in his life to deserve this man, but whatever it was, it was worth it.

“You’re everything too,” Astarion said, arms wrapped around his waist, ear pressed to his shoulder to hear the relaxing thump of his heartbeat. “And I have missed you.”

Gale laughed, soothing the remains of Astarion’s ills. “We’ve been apart for not even 24 hours.”

“Far too long.”

“You’re a lovesick fool,” Gale said, fondly, but he was holding Astarion as tightly in return. “But I missed you too, so I suppose you’re in good company.”

“I concur,” Tara sniffed and sent them both into fits of giggles again.

A few minutes later, they were settled in like nothing had happened, Astarion pressed against Gale’s back to read over his shoulder as the wizard propped his book above Tara, who had curled up along his stomach yet again. Astarion met her single slitted eye looking up at him from her fur and feathers and he nodded, which seemed to appease her as the eye closed.

Do not make me regret this, the eye had said.

I won’t, the nod replied.

Notes:

Can you tell I love Tara?

Chapter 23: Sailing the Sea

Summary:

A little boat voyage...

The next day, they made a plan to take the fight to Cazador.

Tav ordered him and Gale to take the day to rest up and finish any lingering business as they expected the encounter to be particularly brutal. Astarion wasn’t sure what he expected them to do besides prepare for the fight, which is what they did.

Shadowheart planned to prepare her strongest spells specifically targeting the undead. Astarion would’ve been frightened at the gleam in her eyes, had they not been focused on his own target. Astarion had picked out his sharpest blades and made sure to sharpen them to the point of splitting a hair (Gale yelped when Astarion ‘borrowed’ one for that purpose) while Gale flicked through his spellbook to choose his best spells for crowd control and preventing escape.

“He’s a spellcaster,” Astarion had informed him and Gale nodded, fingers flicking through the somatic component of Counterspell, one of his most favoured defensive spells.

“If it looks like he’s going to win,” he whispered to Shadowheart when Gale went to prepare lunch. “You take him and you run.”

“He’d never forgive either of us for that,” she said, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. Since losing her parents, she had seemed more settled than ever, the sorrow from before hardening into a new type of steel: one determined to not lose anything more than she had already.

“As long as he’s alive to hate me, I can- well, not live with that, but you know what I mean.”

The half-elf rolled her eyes, “We’re not going to let it get to that, you donkey. You know Tav: four go in, four come out.”

“I’m not saying you won’t try your best, I’m just saying that if it comes to it-”

“We’re all going to get out,” she said firmly as Gale came back with two bowls and a goblet. “None of us are ever going to leave you behind.”

Astarion didn’t know what to say to that, but he caught a smug glance from Gale as he offered him the goblet.

They decided to turn in early, but once they were dressed for bed, Gale took his hands.

“I know we face quite a large evil tomorrow,” Gale started and Astarion shook his head.

“Gale, if this is some sort of ‘last night on Faerun’ thing-”

“What thing?” Gale frowned, then shrugged it off. “No, what I mean was- you know Elminister came to see me yesterday while you were away.”

Astarion nodded. They hadn’t discussed much of it, but he knew that Gale had been by to see Mystra in that time and had come back with a lot on his mind. They hadn’t discussed it yet, Astarion figuring Gale would let him know when it was time. Which it now apparently was.

“I wanted to show you something. Take you on a bit of a journey, if you will.”

“This hardly seems the time to be taking a jaunt- what are you planning?”

“Just a little boat ride,” Gale reassured. “Please indulge me? Close your eyes.”

“Am I going to be the boat in this scenario?” Astarion leered at Gale’s eyeroll, but then obligingly closed his eyes. He felt Gale take his hand and then his voice intoning “Astra navigabimus.” A familiar wave of arcane energy swept over him, the light visible even through his closed eyelids.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Gale’s voice whispered, soothing any discomfort. “Few have glimpsed what you’re about to see. But I am here with you… open your eyes?”

As Astarion did, the first thing he saw was Gale smiling sweetly up at the sky. Then he looked around and his jaw dropped.

It was indescribable. An endless expanse of starry skies, purple, blue, green, pink nebulae creating a mirror image sea upon which their solitary, shimmering purple boat sailed with no wind to guide it. As Gale watched fondly, Astarion reached out with a wary hand and felt the air heavy in his palm, buzzing with energy, twinkling stars following the wake of his hand.

“The Outer Planes,” Gale said, voice hushed, reverent. “This is where gods dwell. Where they observe us from afar.” His voice turned a bit bitter. “Where they make playthings of us.”

Astarion’s gaze turned back to him. Gale’s eyes were fixed on the stars trailing Astarion’s hand, but there was a tension to his body now.

“They keep all of this from us – the power and the possibilities. They only want us to serve them, pray to them…” his hand drifted to his chest, “and ultimately, die for them.”

Astarion opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. His first instinct was to agree, to egg Gale on, but Raphael’s words rang in his head, remembered even as he tried to forget them. He stayed silent.

“With the Crown, we wouldn’t need them anymore,” Gale said, raising his own hand and the fabric of the illusion bent around it, like a rock dropped in a pond. “If we wielded their power instead, we could help ourselves in all the ways they refuse to.” He looked at Astarion with unreadable eyes, “I could make this illusion a reality, with you by my side.”

This was it. This was everything Astarion had hoped, prayed for since the tadpole. A strong, stalwart ally at his side, willing to do anything to protect him. If Gale was a god, Astarion would never have to fear anything again. They would have the ultimate power in their hands and Cazador would never dare hurt them again. Astarion would have his love, power, everything in his hands.

So why did the idea leave a pit in his stomach?

“So you’ve decided then? To ascend and become a god?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Not quite,” Gale said cryptically. “Not join them, better them. A god’s power, paired with a mortal’s conscience, a mortal heart.” He gestured to himself, “The tadpole, the orb- the gods could so easily rid our world of these threats to our existence, but instead they cower behind Ao. So why shouldn’t we act ourselves?” He leaned forward, eyes intense. “With the crown, any foe would be rendered impotent, any object dwarfed by our might. Isn’t that what you want?”

It was… but it also wasn’t. Raphael’s words rang in his head: Mystra was once human too. Maybe Gale could somehow beat the odds and retain his unique spirit once he ascended… but what if he didn’t? What if he didn’t succeed at all?

For the first time, Astarion found himself thinking about more than just the power. He thought of nights curled up reading together and mornings watching the wizard sleep. He thought of dinners where Gale recruited him into slicing vegetables and battles where they fought side-by-side. He thought of stolen moments in alleyways and a bench on a balcony at Waterdeep.

“No…” Astarion whispered. Gale blinked and it strengthened his resolve. “No. I don’t want that.”

Gale opened his mouth, but Astarion didn’t let him finish, reaching out to grab his arms and tugging him forward. Gale let out a squeak as he was pulled into his lap, the boat rocking below them.

“I don’t want a mortal-turned-god or anything else you might dream up in that giant head of yours,” Astarion frowned. “I love you: as the man you are, not the god you’d pretend to be.”

“But think of what I offer!” Gale insisted, hands gripping Astarion’s shoulders, making to rise and Astarion wrapped his arms around his waist, keeping him right where he was. “The vastness of eternity to explore, the Weave at our fingertips!” His voice lost some of its strength, “You would really prefer me as I am?”

Astarion didn’t answer him, leaning up to capture his lips and silencing any other words he might spout. Gale took a second to respond, but he did so as beautifully as always, melting into his embrace and returning the kiss with as much fervour as Astarion bestowed upon him. He only pulled back when Gale started to pant for breath.

“You are already everything I need you to be,” Astarion said fiercely. “I want you, as you are: mortal, powerful, insanely annoying, incessantly yapping, insufferably arrogant-”

“Is there a compliment somewhere in this?”

“- immensely intelligent, foolishly kind, and heartstoppingly beautiful.” The spawn glared up at him, as if daring to say otherwise, “And if you say anything that even remotely implies that you are not everything I would ever want, I will bite you and it won’t be fun. For you.”

“I must say I don’t think I’ve ever encountered even the most charming minstrels who could blend romantic sentiment with threats of bodily harm quite like you,” Gale said dryly, but something had lightened in his eyes and Astarion was glad to see it. “And I’m glad you feel that way… because I’ve already given my word to give the crown to Mystra once we get it.”

What.

“What.”

“Now, Astarion-”

“What.”

“I know you might be a tad discontented with my subterfuge-”

“WHAT.”

“I can explain!” Gale said hurriedly as though realizing he was in the very precarious position of being in the lap of an increasingly aggravated vampire.

“You have ten seconds before I see if mortals can drown in the Astral Sea-”

“I went right after our argument,” Gale spoke quickly, taking that ten second warning to heart. “And when I started to think about it, I realized that you were right! Despite the lack of sacrifices, it was the same thing: I was risking everything I am, everything we are for my own ambition. And I never even considered you might have been worried about me the same way I was about you… I suppose we were both blind there.”

“Get to the point, wizard,” Astarion’s hands moved to his thighs like he was about to lift him and Gale somehow rambled even faster.

“Just like when I thought it was worth dying for Mystra’s forgiveness, you showed me just how much there is to live for. What I’d be risking with my ambition. And then it made me realize something-”

“Gale-”

“With you, I forget my Goddess and everything else,” Gale murmured, stopping Astarion’s threats in their tracks. “I love you.”

Gods damn him for using his weakness for his sentimental drivel against him. “Gale-”

“Godly power, I can live without. But you? You’re everything.” Gale poured every ounce of sincerity in his voice, aching for Astarion to believe him. He also really didn’t want to get dumped out of the boat in his own illusion.

“Gods damn it, I really hate that that sentimental drivel works,” Astarion grumbled, shifting his hands to his waist instead. Gale grinned down at him.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Yes, but mostly because I owe you and you do make it very difficult to be mad at you when you give me those sad kitten eyes.”

“I do not have sad kitten eyes!”

“Yes you do.” He shifted them so that they could lay in the boat, Gale effortlessly morphing the illusion to take away the seats and add some cushioning to the bottom of the boat. He shifted one arm to curl and prop his head up, the other curling around Gale’s shoulders. “You really are very good at your craft, darling. This is quite something.”

“It doesn’t compare to you,” Gale said, looking at him with such tender love that it made Astarion’s chest ache. “You put the stars to shame.” He shifted to wrap an arm around Astarion’s middle, head resting on his shoulder, face tilted up to his. “Let’s stay here a while longer? I want to drink you in.”

Tomorrow they were to face Astarion’s greatest fear. Tomorrow, Astarion would have to make what should be the most significant choice of his life.

But laying under the canopy of beauty and wonder that Gale had conjured up, Astarion felt that he had already made that a long time ago.

Chapter 24: Waking Nightmare

Summary:

Some nightmares don't end on waking...

They had failed.

Astarion watched Shadowheart’s neck twist unnaturally under Cazador’s hand, the snap of bone audible even through his own laboured breaths where he knelt, chained alongside his siblings, scars blazing agony through his entire being.

The cleric slumped to the ground and Tav swung his hammer at the vampire lord, a final desperate attempt. Cazador didn’t even try to move out of the way, simply taking hold of it and ripping it out of Tav’s hand. The following swing had blood spraying all the way to Astarion’s knees as the tiefling’s body crumpled to the ground.

“Foolish boy,” Cazador sneered, discarding the blood soaked warhammer with a careless flick of the wrist. “Did you really think your friends would be a match for me? That you would ever be out of my grasp?”

Astarion pulled desperately against his chains, but they burned against his wrists, searing the flesh underneath. He howled in pain and Cazador gripped his chin, tugging his face up.

“How easily you forget my power,” red eyes gazed into his with maniacal glee. “You strolled into my palace, my kingdom, thinking you were invincible due to your friends… you foolishly brought everything I needed back into my grasp.” His eyes slid away from his towards a crumpled heap of boreal blue nearby. “And you even brought me a little treat.”

“No-” Astarion choked out, lunging forward as Cazador shoved him back, wrists threatening to dislocate from him straining to surge forward, to stop him as he stalked towards that precious bundle. “Stay away from him!”

“How many times must I teach you this lesson, you stupid boy?” Cazador shifted so that he was facing him and then knelt down to fist his hand in blue robes and tug the attached body up. Gale was limp in his grasp, blood covering half his face from a gash at his hairline, bruised skin visible underneath the dirt and soot of the fight. He didn’t react as Cazador fisted his other hand in his hair, pulling his head to the side with such force, Astarion tensed in fear for the snap that didn’t come. Instead, the vampire lord looked at him with a triumphant gleam in his eyes and ran his tongue along the exposed length of his neck, following the lines of the orb.

“Stop,” Astarion snarled, tugging against, not even flinching as his right wrist popped out of its socket. “STOP!”

“I’ve told you, boy,” Cazador’s voice echoed in the room, like a death knoll. “Everything you have belongs to me.”

Cazador’s fangs plunged into Gale’s neck and Astarion screamed loudly enough to tear his own throat, blood bubbling to his lips as Cazador took deep gulp after gulp, drinking his love like he was ravenous. It felt like an eternity, but was maybe only a few seconds as Astarion strained with his chains, blood slicking the manacles, but his hands just wouldn’t seem to slip free. Gale’s skin grew pale under Cazador’s hands, that light golden tan turned pale and ashen.

Like a corpse.

Gale’s eyes fluttered open at some point and Astarion watched as he tried to fight, hands flailing, clawing at whatever skin he could reach, trying to fight, pull himself away… but his struggles weakened, eyes growing heavy and Astarion watched as they met his for the briefest moment before his wizard went limp in Cazador’s grip.

Cazador didn’t pull away until there was nothing left to drink.

Astarion didn’t look at him as he pulled away, ears deaf to the taunts, the insults. All he could see, through tears blinding his eyes, was Gale crumpled on the floor like a discarded doll, brown doe eyes dull and lifeless. Cazador could have his damn ritual now, everything Astarion had ever cared about was gone. Death now would be a mercy

But Cazador was never one to show it.

“Mystra’s former Chosen,” Cazador murmured, licking his lips clean. “A powerful archmage.” He looked at Gale’s body consideringly. “Pleasant enough to look at, I suppose. Not as pretty as you, my dear boy, but I can see his charm,” he smirked at Astarion. “I suppose I should complete my ritual now, let you join your cattle in whatever afterlife that may befall you… but I don’t think you’ve been punished quite enough.”

Astarion didn’t respond, nor look at him, already having receded far into his mind. Though he was dragged back out kicking and screaming as Cazador knelt besides Gale and tipped his slack mouth open, using a sharpened nail to slice along his finger and let a single drop of blood drip into his mouth.

“NO!” Astarion’s shredded throat sprayed blood into his mouth and the floor, but the visceral rage and fear coursing through him paid it no attention. “You godless, depraved bastard, leave him alone!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, boy,” Cazador smirked at him, tilting Gale’s face towards him. “You are leaving him alone.” His thumb trailed along Gale’s cheek with mock tenderness, nail digging in to leave a fine red line among the purple trails of the orb. “All alone, with no one but me.”

Cazador stood up and walked over to the ritual circle, magic gathering around him and sending fresh new agony through Astarion.

“If it’s any consolation, dear boy,” Cazador drawled with a malicious grin. “I will be sure to take very good care of him in your absence.”

Things faded in and out of Astarion’s thoughts as his scars burned like the sun was shining on them. He could feel blood pouring out of them, infernal magic carrying it to Cazador who glowed like some deity. His siblings screamed in agony, voices cutting out one by one as they fell to the ground as lifeless, bloodless husks. Astarion was the last to fall.

As his brittle body shattered on the ground, the last thing he saw was Cazador advancing on a terrified, pale, red-eyed Gale.

 “NO!” Astarion screamed, shooting upright and struggling out of his restraints to lunge at the fading image of Cazador reaching for his love… and fell to the floor as his foot caught on something.

He kicked his leg wildly, head whipping around to catch sight of the depraved bastard, but he couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see his siblings or the palace around him. Instead, he was in… he didn’t recognize the space for a moment and then things slowly started to trickle back into his sleep and fear-addled mind. He was in the Elfsong Tavern. Cazador wasn’t here, he was still in his palace, preparing for the ritual that demanded Astarion and his siblings. His friends were still alive.

Gale was still alive.

Speaking of the wizard, he looked back and saw said mage pushing himself up from the floor behind him, rubbing at his hip with a wince, looking at Astarion with confused concern. The blankets had tangled around Astarion’s foot and, by the look of it, he had pulled both of them off the bed when he’d lunged.

A pile of blanket next to him squirmed and then Tara’s furry head popped out, looking very displeased, whiskers twitching.

“Heavens, what a ruckus! What is the meaning of this, Mr. Astarion?” she shook herself out and then started to groom her ruffled fur.

“Are you okay, my love?” Gale’s voice was a bit more tender. “That sounded like quite a bad dream.”

“You’re okay,” Astarion breathed out and then he was scrambling over to throw himself into Gale’s arms, almost sending the wizard tumbling over and making Tara scramble to avoid getting rolled on top of. “Thank the gods, you’re okay…”

“I’m fine,” Gale murmured, wrapping his arms around him in turn and kissing the top of his head. “Whatever you saw, it was only a dream. You are in the Elfsong Tavern with me and Tara, and our friends of course, and we were just getting some sleep… well, I was getting some sleep, I suppose you were trancing, and that’s actually quite fascinating to think about: I didn’t think elves could dream while trancing. Do you think they all do or is that something special about you specifically? Shadowheart’s mentioned dreams or visions, but is that her human or elf side coming into play? I remember reading a fascinating research paper about-”

Astarion closed his eyes and breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the wizard’s familiar scent of lavender and sandalwood as he lets the soothing sound of Gale’s scholarly rambles fill his ears and drown out the sounds of his friends, siblings and himself screaming as they died. Gale was here, warm and very much alive, Tara butting her head into Astarion’s side, little body vibrating with her purrs as she squished between them.

Cazador hadn’t ruined this.

Not yet.

Gale rambled on for a while, always one to entertain a captive audience until Astarion started to show signs of life right as he was about to recite the bibliography. The vampire spawn finally shifted so he was less clinging to Gale and more holding on, and the trembling had mostly stopped. Gale continued to hold him, fingers carding through his silver curls.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gale murmured. Astarion shook his head against his shoulder. “Okay. Do you want to try to trance again?” Another shake of his head. “That’s okay, we can just sit like this then.” He pressed a kiss to Astarion’s head.

Astarion did not dare to trance for the rest of the night. Gale’s human body eventually started to succumb to sleep and Astarion swapped their positions to hold him, shifting to rest his back against the side of the bed, Gale cradled against his chest in his lap as he slept. He knew the wizard was going to be complaining about his back, but right now, Astarion didn’t have it in him to move him. Instead, he spent the remaining hours until dawn broke to take in every feature of his, from the single mole near his temple, to the cat scratch scar on his forehead, to the permanent wrinkle above his nose to the freckles dotting his cheeks.

“Mr. Astarion?” Tara’s hushed whisper as the first ray of sun penetrated their floor. Astarion grunted in response. He felt a small furry head bump against his cheek and whiskers tickle at his nose.

“It’ll be alright, sir,” Tara purred in a low voice, “You’ll beat that ghastly man.”

For the first time that night, Astarion choked out a huff of laughter.

In the morning, they prepared for a battle.

“We’ll be with you all the way,” Gale murmured, taking one of his bracers from his shaking hands and buckling it onto his forearm himself. He brought Astarion’s hand up and kissed the back of it. “Today is your last day of fearing him, my love.”

Astarion didn’t say anything, just nodded. He felt words were beyond him as they left the Tavern, though not before Karlach gave him a rib-cracking hug, geared up to go and destroy the Steel Watchers with the others. The others seemed to sense his mood and followed him solemnly as he lead them up and past Cazador’s mindless slaves, who waved him through without any trouble. The closer he got to the manor door, the more nervous he grew, and the more nervous he grew, he started to fall back to old habits.

He spat in disgust as the mortal slaves rushing about the manor to prepare it for their master. 200 years he spent wishing he had just allowed himself to die that fateful night, and here were these wretched fools throwing themselves at Cazador’s feet, begging for his fate. He almost wished they had received it.

He absently recounted his time at the manor as they walked through it, pointing out the spawn’s quarters, the ‘kennel’ (Gale had eldritch blasted Godey with prejudice and Astarion was too distracted to even appreciate it), and the favored spawn’s rooms. He didn’t blink at the child’s corpse in the bedroom, only directed Shadowheart to dispel the curse on her so that he could rummage for anything useful. Gale gently took the book from him when Astarion was too distracted to pay attention to it carefully.

Vellioth’s skull caught his attention for a moment and as he delved into his memories, he felt the disgust and fury surge within him again. Cazador’s rules echoed in his mind, Vellioth’s teachings underlining it. As the old Master did, the new Master did in turn. It turned his stomach to see how Vellioth treated Cazador, too similar to Cazador’s treatment of him. He didn’t like the parallels and he turned himself away from them, stuffing the scroll into his pack without absorbing the words.

It didn’t sink in until they saw the cages.

7000.

Sebastian’s screams echoed through his ears as Tav stepped in between them, weak fingers slipping over his armour, but trying their hardest to scratch and claw at the spawn behind him. Every hapless, lovesick, vulnerable, exploitive fool he had ever allowed to touch him or he’d touched himself and brought back… thousands of them over 200 years… caged like cattle, but even worse.

Astarion had wished for death after a year locked in a tomb, starving.

How long had they been waiting?

He blinked and suddenly the scenery had changed. He could hear the hungry snarling of thousands of spawn, Tav and Shadowheat’s low voices, scared young whimpers and Sebastian’s sobbed curses. His chest was heaving with breaths he didn’t need, but he couldn’t stop taking. His cold hands were enveloped in warmth and he yanked them away. He didn’t deserve any of it, not when 7000 had been locked in the cold dark for almost 200 years.

“Gods, Sebastian…” he mumbled, eyes unseeing as he stared at the paved floor. “He kept them. He kept all of them.” His fist clenched, teeth gritting together. “I should’ve known what Cazador was capable of… he played us for such fools! Not just seven spawn to placate the devil, but seven thousand souls bound to them in blood.”

A hand reached out to him again, but Astarion couldn’t bear the touch. He moved out of reach and paced, anger and disgust warring within him. “Everyone who ever trusted me enough to let down their guard… innocents, idiots, the unlucky, they’re all here. They’re all a part of this wretched thing.” He closed his eyes, shoving his emotions down, and letting determination take hold. “But it doesn’t matter. They will need to be sacrificed if I want to perform the ritual.”

A sharp intake of breath from behind him. “We can save them.”

“What’s the point?!” Astarion snarled, wheeling around to glare at the wizard. “They’re as good as dead! I thought they were dead! Do you know what’ll happen if they’re unleashed? The carnage seven thousand ravenous vampires can cause? It would be a bloodbath!” He took a deep breath, trying to centre himself, forcing his voice to be indifferent, because it couldn’t be anything else. “They must die either way: better they serve a good cause. A purpose.”

Gale didn’t say anything, only looked at him with unreadable eyes. Astarion got more agitated the longer he did. Then, with his most matter-of-fact tone, “In another life, you’d have led me to this crypt.”

“Don’t even say that!” Astarion stepped forward, hands reaching for his arms, gripping them tightly, fear surging through him. “I don’t even want to think of what would have happened to you-”

“You would have led me to one of those bedrooms,” Gale continued, as though he hadn’t spoken. “Kissed me, undressed me… laughed as I tried to compliment you, told me to shut up when I talked too much, reassured me when I asked you whether I was doing what you wanted, pleasing you as I wanted to.” He tilted his head, gaze trapping Astarion like a beholder. “And then you would’ve left me there for Cazador. I would’ve spent years, maybe decades, in these cells. Carved like cattle, starved and awaiting slaughter.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“And then, eventually, you would find yourself here with friends at your back… and you would have to decide whether you would let me die again.” Astarion’s fingers were digging into his arms hard enough to likely leave bruises, but Gale didn’t seem to notice, all his attention on Astarion. “This callousness isn’t you, Astarion.”

“It should be,” Astarion hissed, “I don’t- I don’t want to be like them! They’re… pathetic. Horrible…”

“And they still deserve kindness,” Gale said softly, stopping Astarion’s blustering in its tracks. “Just as you always did. You told me nights ago that no one ever did a kind thing for you, said a kind word to you…” He reached up and coaxed Astarion’s hands from his arms, taking them into his hands instead, and this time Astarion let him. “I wish for nothing more than I could go back all those years ago and show that to you, but I can’t. I can’t change what happened to you, Astarion, and neither can you. But you can choose to show them kindness today, that kindness you never got. You know as much as I do that no one deserves this fate.”

Astarion’s eyes burned, but he refused to show it. He would not be weak right now. He would not be swayed by a stupidly gentle wizard who didn’t have the stomach to do what needed to be done-

“Don’t hate me,” Astarion said instead, brokenly. “I did what I had to.” He didn’t sound convincing even to himself. “I swear, I just did what I had to…”

The cries and moans of 7001 remained unconvinced.

Notes:

Sorry for vanishing! I got sick and then work got intense, so I had to slow down a lot ^^

Chapter 25: Ecce Dominus

Summary:

A long awaited confrontation.

They had a plan.

The moment they found Cazador, Astarion would sneak around and blocks off any exits. They Shadowheart would cast Daylight in the middle of the room. Gale would bring down a Sleet Storm to disrupt any attempts from Cazador to use his magic, and then Tav would rush in and smite the bastard. It wouldn’t have been enough to kill him, but it would’ve severely wounded him and allowed them the advantage of surprise.

Astarion had spent hours drilling the strategy into them, stressing the importance of the surprise element. He’d hammered it into them until he’d heard Gale mumbling it in his sleep.

All of it went out the window the moment he saw his former Master and he stormed right towards him, the others scrambling to catch up, exchanging glances.

“Who stands before us?” Cazador’s voice held a combination of amusement and menace. “Is this truly our prodigal son?”

Astarion felt rage course through him. It was all he could not to lunge at him, though he was crouched in preparation to.

“Do not slouch before me, boy!” Cazador’s voice rang in the empty room, almost making him flinch as a reflex. “Have you no respect for yourself? Look at you, crawling back after abandoning your family… you should be begging our forgiveness.”

“He doesn’t owe you anything,” Gale snapped back, unable to stay silent. Neither Astarion nor Cazador looked at him.

“Does this cattle speak for you now, boy?” Cazador said with disdain, giving Gale the look one would give a stain on the carpet. “Have you truly fallen so far?”

“No one speaks for me,” Astarion said through gritted teeth. “And forgiveness? You must be joking: you’ve never forgiven a Gods damned thing. Every slip, every mistake was punished!” The memories filled his mind: every flogging, beating, flaying, every moment spent starving, in darkness, in pain, it all fed into the pure hatred coursing through him. He had eyes for nothing and no one besides him.

“I strove for perfection in all things, even something as imperfect as you,” Cazador said with an insidious hiss. “A pity you were so resistant to my efforts… such a waste.”

“No,” Astarion hissed, venom in his voice. “Fuck. You. And fuck everything you’ve ever done to me!”

“Astarion, don’t let him bait you,” Gale murmured in a whisper, but Cazador seemed to catch it as he laughed.

“Taking orders from cattle?” the vampire lord sneered, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You truly do fall further from grace at every turn. Has he made use of your talents yet? Have they all?” He spat the word with heavy meaning and Astarion saw red.

“You son of a bitch!” Astarion ran forward and swung his fist with all his might towards Cazador’s smirking face… and felt himself freeze in place as Cazador’s staff clacked on the ground.

He heard Gale and the others let out startled cries as red magic swirled around him, binding his limbs and Astarion felt his rage melt into fear. Cazador looked between his fist and his face, nothing but amusement and eagerness in his face. “You truly forgot my power,” Cazador tsked. “You thought our bond as creator and creation was the only thing stopping you from kill me.” He reached out and took Astarion’s chin between his fingers. “You are weak, my child. You are a small, pathetic boy who never amounted to anything… but today, you will. You will burn… and I will ascend.” Cazador’s grin turned malicious. “And I will take my reward of your little lamb.”

Astarion felt the magic yank him into place, hovering and bound just like his siblings as his scars were bared. He saw his companions, fighting off Cazador’s wolves and bats and caught Gale’s gaze, eyes wide with terror.

“Stop him!” he called out.

“Witness the birth of the Vampire Ascendant! Ecce dominus!”

The chamber was filled with roars and howls as every wolf, ghoul and bat in the area turned upon the three adventurers. It was far too many for them to ever be enough to fight, but his friends knew how to hold their own. The bats burned in radiant flame as they entered the swirling circle of Shadowheart’s spirit guardians and with a burst of magic, her Planar Ally appeared just in time to bring his mace down upon the head of a ghoul.

Tav was in fine form, the Paladin standing in the middle of the undead and lighting them up with radiant flame, as their claws glanced off his armor and shield. His training with Lae’zel showed cleared results as he swung rapidly, but focused, bring ghouls and wolves down with almost every swing.

Gale’s Air Myrmidon swirled next to Cazador’s caster and brought the gales of the storm into it, silencing the skeleton and bringing its Electric Flail down onto it’s skull. Cazador screamed as Daylight burned, bright and revealing in the room… but Astarion couldn’t see the wizard. He strained at his restraints, breathing turning heavy as he recalled a similar situation he had dreamt of before, thoughts turning to despair-

And then Gale was materializing out of mist right in front of him and reaching out to try and tug him out of his restraints. His hands wrapped around Astarion’s wrist and pulled, but the infernal shackles didn’t budge.

“I’ve got you,” the wizard said hurriedly, fingers flying over the chains as he flipped through his mental book of spells. Dark mist floated out from the battle happening only a few feet away. “I can get you out-”

“GALE!” Astarion cried out as the mist materialized into an enraged Cazador, who grabbed the wizard by the back of his robes and threw him several feet to collide with the intricate coffin at the centre and collapse at the base of it.

“Impudent little wretch,” Cazador hissed, turning back towards him, ignoring Astarion’s struggles and shouted threats. “You dare to lay hands on your better? You, the whore of my greatest disappointment-”

Cazador knelt over Gale’s crumpled form and fisted his hand in blue robes to tug the attached body up. Gale was limp in his grasp, blood oozing from a gash at his hairline, the skin around it already starting to bruise. He didn’t react as Cazador fisted his other hand in his hair, pulling his head back with such force, Astarion tensed in fear for the snap that didn’t come. Instead, the vampire lord ran his tongue along the exposed length of his neck, following the lines of the orb. He turned towards Astarion and the malicious grin on his face made the spawn’s blood turn to ice. His dream came back to him and he could’ve sworn he could feel himself fading, blood draining from his body, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk.

“How sweet does your little plaything taste, boy? Was he worth betraying your family, betraying me?” Cazador’s fangs gleamed in the sickly red and green light of the chamber, glowing red eyes drilling into Astarion’s. “He shall be the first meal of the Vampire Ascendant-”

Cazador howled in pain as a loud crack of lightning echoed in the chamber and spasmed, releasing Gale, who immediately rolled away from him, hands crackling with electricity. A quick, sharp gesture and a wave of concussive force swept out from his hands, sending Cazador tumbling ass-over-teakettle back several feet into the aura of Shadowheart’s Spirit Guardians. The wizard didn’t hesitate, immediately stumbling back up the stairs and breaking Astarion’s shackles with a quick gesture and a spat-out word. Astarion fell to his knees, nearly landing on his face if it weren’t for the wizard catching him.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked urgently, eyes ticking from watching the fight and back to Astarion. “Can you fight?”

Words might have failed him, but he could still act. He stumbled to his feet, grabbing for his blades where they’d fallen, Gale’s hands never leaving him for a moment as he hauled him up.

“Stand on the circles!” Gale called out, eyes ticking between the markings on the floor and the vampire lord. “The spawn are making him stronger!” He tossed one last concerned glance towards Astarion and then ran to one of the nearby circles to stand in it. He shuddered as the magic going to Cazador went to him instead, but it seemed to bolster him and with sparks dancing from his fingers, he brought lightning down onto the heads of the werewolves surrounding Tav with enough force to fry them to a crisp immediately.

Astarion found his own circle to stand in and felt some of his wounds heal as he drew his bow and fired a shot right into the skeleton’s eye socket, sending its bones clattering to the ground. A blinding beam of light shot past him and had Cazador screaming in pain, Gale’s grin positively feral as he charged another Sunbeam. Tav swatted werewolves, ghouls and bats alike with his Warhammer as Shadowheart kept them up with calls to her Goddess and healing magic coursing through them.

Astarion sent arrow after arrow at Cazador, only pausing on occasion to fire something at his minions, stopping the others from being overwhelmed. As he watched Cazador take blow after blow, attempt to summon lightning down, only for Gale to counterspell him, turn to mist, only to find nowhere to escape…

They were winning, he thought with burgeoning elation, wide grin on his face as Cazador dodged Gale’s Sunbeam, right into Shadowheart’s radiant aura. His former Master no longer looked the put-together, powerful vampire lord. Cazador’s hair was all over the place, clothing torn and scuffed, bruises, blood and burns evident on his visible skin. For once, he didn’t look invulnerable.

He looked like prey.

Gale caught his eye from across the room and he made a gesture like rain falling, which Astarion immediately caught on to. Lightning arced to Gale as his hands, eyes and orb lines glowed with a bright, white-hot light, the air crackling with static and the smell of ozone cutting through the iron.  Astarion took the flask of holywater and threw it at the vampire lord, the glass shattering on contact and soaking him. The water burned Cazador’s flesh on contact, but before he could even scream, lightning burst from Gale like a furious storm, true to his namesake. The water conducted the electricity with more effectiveness and Cazador made not a sound, turning into a mist that dashed into the coffin as all his remaining minions fell to divine light.

Astarion did not hesitate, immediately rushing to the coffin and pushing the top of it off. Cazador lay inside, eyes closed. “No, no healing sleep for you!” Adrenaline coursed through him, giving him the strength to reach inside and fist his doublet, pulling him out and throwing him to the ground with a furious scream, “Wake up!”

“Keep your hands off me, worm!” Cazador hissed, struggling to push himself up to his knees. He had never looked so pathetic… and Astarion had never felt stronger.

“I’m not the one in the dirt,” he said with smug pride, face feeling like it would hurt from his glee. Cazador’s blade caught his eye, on the ground between them and Astarion picked it up. The blade had pulled scream after scream from him as Cazador peeled the skin from his bones, carved into his back, chopped things off just to see if they would grow back… his grip on it tightened.

“One last thrust,” Astarion murmured, bringing the tip of the blade to Cazador’s chin, “and I’ll be free of you. I’ll never have to fear you again.” His gaze landed on the sigils behind Cazador, still visible despite the splatters of blood. “But if I finish what you started… I’ll never have to fear anyone ever again.”

“You think me a fool?” Cazador laughed. “That I would allow anyone to usurp me, speak the words and ascend in my place?” His red eyes gleamed with mad satisfaction. “The runes I carved into your flesh bind you and all 7000 souls to the ritual. Complete it, and all those who bears those scars will be sacrificed – including you.” Cazador’s grin turned vindictive. “You are simply a means to an end. I made you… to be consumed.”

“I am more than what you made me!” Astarion hissed. His mind was racing. This couldn’t be the end. He couldn’t have suffered so much, done so much, only for it all to fall apart now. He wouldn’t falter here, he wouldn’t let soft words and soft feelings stop his ascent. He would be more, he had to be more. Surely his lover would agree?

He looked around frantically. Tav and Shadowheart were standing a few feet away, looking at him warily, and besides them, robes singed and blood splattered, the smell of ozone, lavender and sandalwood wafting off him, Gale. The wizard looked at Astarion with those same unreadable eyes as before and the spawn reached out to him.

“I can do this, my love, but I need your help,” Astarion said, heart in his mouth.

Gale frowned, “Astarion, didn’t you hear him? If you complete the ritual, you’ll be consumed-”

A barked out laugh interrupted him. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“Dearest, think about what you’re saying!” Gale said, expression turning disbelieving. “If you do this, we’ll kill all these people-”

“These people died years ago!” Astarion shouted, “Trust me, all that’s left are 7000 feral spawn desperate for blood.” He waved his hands at the cages. “If we release them, do you have any idea how many will they kill? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands?” His tone turned pleading. “If I ascend, I won’t have to fear the sun. I won’t constantly feel the hunger. I’ll be free- really, truly free!” Gale’s face turned soft. “Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that everything you’ve wanted for me?”

“Of course it is,” Gale said, voice tender. “All I’ve ever wanted for you is for you to be free. Free of the tadpole, free of this waste of skin and blood, free of any and all fear, all nightmares.” Gale straightened, fingers tightening on his staff. “But this? This won’t free you, Astarion. A ritual like this, such dark magic… you know Mephistopheles himself has a share in it. This power will trap you, as it would have trapped Cazador.”

“Listen to me!” Astarion’s voice turned hoarse, desperate staining every word. “With this power, I could summon an army to help us take on the Netherbrain! I would be stronger, faster, the greatest vampire living! I could make sure we never want for anything again in our lives, that nothing would ever touch us, touch you! I could- I could give you an immortal life at my side, my love. Eternity together, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Eternity together, but not with this price,” Gale’s voice was firm. “I don’t care what it could give us: power, riches, anything, none of it would ever be worth the chance of losing you.” A slight tilt of his head. “I love you as you are, you are already everything I would ever want.”

“I’m nothing,” Astarion’s desperation turned to loathing. “I’m a shell of a man, because of him,” the blade point dug into Cazador’s neck, drawing a trail of blood. “You saw what I’ve done for 200 years… I don’t know how to be without fear.”

“That’s okay,” Gale said, taking a step forward. “We can find out together… I want you to live a life you’re proud of, Astarion. You can’t be proud of this.”

For a moment, a brief, fleeting moment, Astarion wanted to turn on him. To spit the venom and bile he felt churning in his stomach at the wizard: berate him, insult him, rip those kind words from his tongue. But he turned those feelings towards their originator, Cazador’s glowing red eyes staring at him hatefully from his knees.

“You’re right,” Astarion said, voice blank. “I can be better than him.” His brow furrowed and a grin split his lips. “But I’m not above enjoying this.”

Cazador didn’t get a chance to spit out any more words, Astarion’s blade sliding through his throat like a hot knife through butter. He gripped the slick black hair and tilted his head back, ripping the blade out of his throat and thrusting it back it, this time into his sternum, grunting with the force of it. Cazador’s hands flailed, trying to push him back, but Astarion was relentless, 200 years of agony and pain surging through his muscles and emerging from his throat in a scream, spite fuelling every strike, blade plunging into Cazador’s flesh again and again and again. The body dropped to the ground and Astarion followed it, stabbing him over and over until the blade was too slick to keep a hold of.

He staggered away from the twitching body with a final broken scream and dropped to his knees, sobs ripping from his ruined throat as Cazador’s body turned blurry before his eyes. The rage and anger that had fuelled him for centuries felt like it had been channelled into the blade, leaving nothing but sorrow and emptiness in its wake. He wailed, cries echoing in the chamber and mixing with the 7000 souls trapped in the cages. He felt like he had been broken apart and left bleeding on the ground, each stab wound ripping into his own soul.

And then a healing balm coming to kneel next to him.

Gale, blood covering half his face from a gash at his hairline, bruised skin visible underneath the dirt and soot of the fight, knelt beside him, hands in his lap as he gazed at Astarion with tender concern. He brought one hand up to Astarion’s cheek, but stopped short, wordlessly asking for consent. Astarion buried his face into his palm like it was the first tender touch he had ever received… and he supposed it was. His first tender touch as a truly free man. At the hands of the first man he’d chosen to touch him in centuries.

“I’m so proud of you,” Gale said, voice thick with tears and emotion, smile wobbly but wide and sincere. “It’s over, my love… you’re free.”

Astarion covered his hand with his own, inhaling the scent of ozone, lavender and sandalwood, with an undercurrent of iron. He felt raw, emotionally frayed… but lighter than he had in centuries. Footsteps tapped on the ground and he heard Dalyria’s hesitant voice as his siblings approached Cazador’s body.

“Is… is it over?” she whispered, “Is he…?”

Astarion closed his eyes for a moment, drew some strength from the warm palm at his cheek and then drew back to stand up, giving Gale’s hand a squeeze before letting go and facing his ‘siblings’.

“Yes,” Astarion said, voice hoarse. “He’s gone.”

“What does that mean for us?” Petras piped up.

“It means you have a choice,” Astarion looked at them all. “You can hide in the shadows living like parasites, or we could more than what he made us to be. But whatever you choose… the consequences are on your heads.”

He had made his own choices, now it was time for them to make theirs. Astarion went through the rest of the conversation feeling like some external force was puppeting his body, directing his siblings and 7000 spawn to the Underdark, facing off against the Gur hunters and convincing them that justice had been done. He felt like things progressed with a blink of an eye. A blink and then were leaving the manor. A blink and they were at the Tavern. A blink and Karlach was telling them about killing Gortash. A blink and he and Gale were in the private suite. A blink and he was in a tub of warm water, Gale’s hands in his hair, voice murmuring soft, soothing comforts in his ear. A blink and a goblet of blood was pressed to his lips to let him drink. A blink and he was sinking into a warm, soft bed. A blink and a warm, familiar body was pulling him closer, letting his head rest on his chest, ear pressed to his heartbeat, fingers combing through his curls.

“Rest now, my love,” lips pressed to the top of his head, words rumbling in his chest. “I’ve got you.”

And Astarion tranced without fear for the first time in 200 years.

Notes:

So we have finally caught up to what I've had prewritten! Updates will be slower from here as I see where I want the story to go as we still have some loose ends to tie (and demons to fuck up), but thanks once again to everyone who's been with me on this journey so far, see you at the next chapter!

Chapter 26: True Resurrection

Summary:

The healing begins.

Despite his exhaustion, Astarion found himself unable to trance through the night, but he did wake up feeling more like himself. Gale was still holding him, deep asleep and mumbling about abjuration school spells. Astarion took the time to just… think.

It was over. After 200 years of torment, the last few weeks of fear-tinged freedom, Astarion no longer had a spectre haunting him at every step. It felt like a dream, one he would wake from and find himself still in that tomb, scratching at the walls to be let out. How could things have changed so drastically in days when they had been so constant for centuries?

He wrapped his arms around Gale and buried his face into his chest. Soft, sleep-warm skin, the light tickle of his chest hair, a slow and steady heartbeat thudding away, warm blood coursing through his veins, lavender and sandalwood filling his nostrils. Perhaps it was a dream, but it was Astarion was happy to stay in.

He lost track of time somewhere in the middle and dawn started to send golden light through the windows. He could hear some shuffling about from the common rooms nearby, but no one came to wake them up. Probably some unspoken agreement to leave them be for today. Astarion found himself grateful for it. He wasn’t in the mood to see or talk to anyone besides the person in his bed.

Gale was still deeply asleep. At some point, Shadowheart or Halsin seemed to have tended to him somewhat as the gash at his hairline was now just a white line, though he still bore marks of bruising and claws. They must have been running short of healing magic between the fight with Cazador and Karlach’s encounter with Gortash. He’d have to get Gale a healing potion soon.

The thought spurred him to finally leave the bed, though separating from Gale’s warmth might have been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He almost crawled back into his arms, but forced himself to think about healing potions and food. He didn’t think Gale had eaten much last night and it was probably too late for breakfast.

Fortunately, his companions seemed to have thought about it and Roveer had a tray of bread, meat, cheese and fruit ready for him. When he came back in, Tara was standing on Gale’s pillow and sniffing him, pink tongue working to groom the mess of his hair. She paused when she spotted him and hopped onto the bed, pretending like she hadn’t been trying to bathe him like a kitten.

“How are you feeling, dear?” Tara asked him softly, voice low so as to not wake the wizard. Astarion shrugged in response, not quite feeling up to words. Fortunately, Tara seemed to pick up on that and didn’t say anything more, just butting her head against his arm and letting him pet her. He wondered how often she had done this for Gale since she seemed to be quite an expert at it.

“You’ll be alright now, darling,” Tara purred, ears twitching under his fingers. “That nasty man won’t ever come near you again.”

The words still didn’t seem real. How could a constant for 200 years just not be there anymore? A shifting of the bed drew his attention as Gale shifted and stretched, yawning loudly, bleary brown eyes blinking open.

“’Starion?” Gale mumbled, face still half-buried in his pillow. “’kay?”

That drew a smile to his lips, small and stiff but genuine. “Good morning, my love.”

Gale let out a groan worthy of the recently revived undead, but then Tara was padding over to him and sticking her nose in his eye, which promptly had him shooting upright.

“Gods, Tara, you know I hate it when you do that!” Gale grimaced, wiping at his eye.

“Rise and shine, Mr. Dekarios!” Tara said cheerfully and with no small amount of glee. Astarion’s respect for her grew. “Can’t have you sleeping the whole day away, sir, there’s a good lad. Eat up, you need your strength.”

“My, I’d almost forgotten. Thank goodness I have you to remind me,” Gale said with no small amount of sarcasm, but there was a twitch of his lips that Astarion knew was a barely concealed smile.

“I will not be pestered, heckled, teased or vexed, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara sniffed. “Not until I’ve had my due.” She gave him an expectant look and Gale shook his head, reaching to scritch her ears, cheek and chin, her purr loud enough to be heard even from where Astarion was sitting.

“Ahhh, no one manages the nuances quite like you, sir,” Tara said with a little shake to settle her fur. “Now eat up! Mr. Astarion, I leave my pet’s care in your hands, do make sure he eats the fruit. Scurvy is a terrible look.”

“Who are you calling a pet?” Gale said with mild offense.

“You are my pet. And I am yours. A perfect circle of companionship,” Tara butted her head against his bicep, rubbing against his forearm. “And I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She hopped down onto the floor. “I’ll make sure the others don’t disturb you for the day, but do make sure you drop by for dinner. Bless poor Mr. Ravengard’s soul, but he just doesn’t have quite the touch with the culinary arts like you do.” She padded out the door, a mage hand materializing to shut it behind her.

“Are all the women in your life so… forceful with you?” Astarion asked dryly, watching the door close.

“If you think Tara is bad, wait until you meet my mother,” Gale said with a theatrical shudder. “She’s going to cry, hug me, cry some more and then slap me upside the head.”

“That’s quite specific.”

“She did all of that in that order when I returned from my first mission as Mystra’s Chosen. She then proceeded to stuff me with enough food for three days and made it so I couldn’t walk home, so I ended up staying at her house overnight. When Morena Dekarios desires something, it must come to pass, come hell or high water.” Gale’s smile was fond and a bit wistful. “I do miss her.”

“She sounds like a lovely woman,” Astarion said, nudging the tray over to him.

“You didn’t have to trouble yourself for this, my love, I could’ve gone down myself,” Gale said with only mild protest, already picking up a scone.

“You’re still black and blue from yesterday,” Astarion retorted. “Did that damn druid not have enough magic to heal you? Too busy with his nature romps?”

“They had to heal everyone,” Gale protested through a mouthful of crumbly bread. “And I knew we weren’t going to be heading out today, so it made sense for the healing priority to go to severe wounds and the next day’s adventuring party.”

“Stupid, self-sacrificing wizards,” Astarion grumbled and pushed the healing potion on the tray over to him as well. “Drink it or I’ll force it down your throat.”

“Your bedside manner truly is worth of a cleric of Ilmater,” Gale said dryly, obediently uncorking the healing potion to drink it down. The bruising lightened up, claw marks fading into lines of pink, healing skin. “I can’t help but feel I should be the one fussing over you though. How are you feeling? You seemed… not aware of your surroundings last night, but the rest seems to have helped.”

“I don’t know how to feel,” Astarion admitted. “It doesn’t feel real, honestly. That’s he’s dead. I don’t have to look over my shoulder anymore… I feel like I should feeling more relieved, but I… don’t?”

“You’ve spent so long living in fear of him,” Gale said gently. “It’s natural that it might take your body time to realize that you are no longer being held in that stasis.”

Astarion hummed, but didn’t sound convinced. Gale reached out and took his hand, bringing it up to kiss his palm.

“Either way, no matter what it brings or doesn’t bring, I’m here for you. For all of it.”

Words that Astarion would’ve once scoffed and dismissed as sentimental drivel. Sweet words, but empty. No one wanted to see the dark side that he concealed behind his pretty smiles and pretty words. They’d run screaming if they knew what truly lurked beneath the surface.

But Gale had seen it all. The others had seen it all. And they had run, but in the direction of the source, not away from it.

And now there was nothing to run from.

“You truly are, aren’t you?” Astarion murmured, looking at him. This sweet, intelligent, arrogant man who once looked down his nose at him, but now smiled at him so gently at his level. Who had seen, experienced the worst that Astarion was, and had seen the good in him anyway. Who had watched Astarion’s shaking hand reaching towards a noose to hang himself with in the desperation for power, and taken it in his own and led him to something better.

Gale had given him everything of himself.

And Astarion no longer had anything holding him back.

“Will you come away with me tonight?” Astarion whispered.

“Anywhere you lead,” Gale whispered back, quiet but assured.

The day passed quietly. Neither of them felt the need to leave their little safe haven. They indulged in another bath, one that Astarion was more present to enjoy, and supped to regain their strength, Astarion insisting on indulging in one of his more bovine forms of sustenance, much to Gale’s vocal protests. They lay in bed and simply indulged in one another’s company, Gale talking at length about his time at Blackstaff and his most recent observations with his telescope. Astarion didn’t say much, but was content to just listen and exist, head resting in Gale’s lap, eyes closed as the wizard’s talented fingers combed through the curls.

Night fell and Astarion took Gale’s hand and led him out, through back-alley ways under the cover of shadows until they came to the graveyard.

“My love, I hope we haven’t come to that part of our relationship where you kill me and bury me in an unmarked grave to steal my inheritance. For one, Morena is far too smart to fall for such a ruse and for the second, I already bequeathed everything I own – or whatever’s left- to Tara in my will,” Gale said, looking around.

Astarion recognized the attempt to lighten the mood, but didn’t respond, eyes fixed on one of the gravestones, the inscription hidden behind layers of dirt, vines and leaves. Gale fell silent behind him as he knelt before the grey stone, fingers haltingly reaching out to move the vines and leaves out of the way, brushing away with dirt to reveal the writing.

Astarion Ancunin 229 - 268 DR

The same as it had been when he’d last seen.

How things could change so much and yet not at all at the same time.

“Nearly 200 years,” Astarion said hoarsely, “and I never came back. Not since the night I woke up down there.” His eyes were distant, lost in memories. “I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, wretching up dirt and congealed blood… Cazador was waiting. From that day on, I was his.” He looked up at Gale. “Until today.”

Gale met his gaze, doe eyes just as warm as they’d been since the day Astarion had started noticing them, sorrow making them even softer. “You were never his, my love. Whatever he did have, he took by force.”

Astarion made a sound, not disagreeing but not agreeing either. “Maybe. But he did take it.” A bitter chuckle. “There’s almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock. For two centuries, I stalked the streets like a ghost while the person I was lay here, buried with the worms and left to turn to ash. Dead and buried.” A deep inhale, unnecessary, but it brought some semblance of comfort. A small remnant of the days before the grave. “I need to figure out who I am. What I want.”

“And what do you want?” Gale murmured, sounding genuinely curious and Astarion could have laughed. He did, an involuntary chuckle escaping him. How could this man be so bloody intelligent and so bloody stupid at the same time? How could Astarion possibly keep finding himself loving him more and more with every passing moment?

“You, you insufferable idiot,” Astarion said, no bite to his words, the insult carrying the same fondness as a beloved nickname. “I want you.”

Gale’s eyes brightened and a pleased flush pinked his cheeks, fingers tucking a strand of loose hair behind his ear to hide it. “Well, I wouldn’t dare presume- you know what they say about assuming-”

“You were by my side through all of this,” Astarion said, the firmness of his tone drawing Gale’s gaze to his. “Through… bloodlust, and pain, and misery…” he swallowed. “You were patient. You cared. You trusted me when that was an objectively stupid thing to do, and Gods know that I’ve betrayed that trust more than anyone should forgive-”

“Astarion-”

“And I feel… safe with you,” the words were difficult to get out, but Astarion didn’t fear them anymore. There was nothing to fear here. “Seen. Whatever the future holds for me, I don’t want to lose that. Lose you.”

“You won’t,” Gale said, no hint of doubt in his voice. He voiced those words like they were law, certain and unwavering. “No matter where our lives go, what journeys the fates may take us on… we will go to it, together. I will always have your hand in mine, your soul steeling mine until the universe dims, and then beyond wherever they may journey next.”

Astarion ached to kiss him, but there was still something to be done, and he was sure that if he indulged now, nothing besides ceremorphosis would stop him. “Well, I should probably fix this,” he said, drawing a dagger and kneeling at the gravestone, using the sharpened blade to carve into it. His etching weren’t as elegant as the ones above, but they were his and done by his hand.

Astarion Ancunin 229 - 268 DR

       468 DR –

Once done, he shifted back to settle on his heels and Gale soon joined him, knees cracking enough to make the vampire spawn wince, but he appreciated the company. Gale conjured up a purple flower in his hand – an aster the Gale-voice in his head explained – and set it down at the gravestone, a bright spot of colour in the dark. Care amongst neglect.

“I’ve been dead in the dirt long enough,” Astarion said finally, voice hushed. “It’s time to start living again.” He turned to Gale and held out his hand, “With everything that life has to offer.”

Gale took it with no hesitation, reaching to take Astarion’s other hand, shuffling around to face him. “And what does that mean?” a gentle tease that made Astarion grin.

“If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded,” he purred, making Gale’s cheeks turn pink again, “and that pretty blush is definitely persuasive…”

“We’re sitting on your grave, Astarion,” Gale protested feebly and Astarion’s grin widened.

“I can’t help but notice that wasn’t a ‘no’,” he said with unabashed delight as Gale’s blush deepened to a dark red. Gods, he adored this kinky little wizard.

“You know, I didn’t care for you when we first met,” Astarion said, the words feeling absurd, like he could no longer imagine there would every be a world or a time when he didn’t adore the person in front of him with all his heart. “But I do now. Being with you is about more than just… lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance.” He brought Gale’s hands up to his lips and kisses his knuckles. “I love you.” He turned Gale’s wrists up and pressed a kiss to the delicate insides. “I love this.” He shifted his weight to learn forward, lips to his neck, just under his chin, making him shiver. “And I want it all.”

Astarion didn’t know which of them leaned in first, but it was inconsequential as Gale’s lips met his, a tender touch quickly turning passionate as Astarion’s hand on Gale’s cheek turned his face up and Gale’s hands on his shoulders pulled him closer. The kiss turned deeper, more passionate until Gale was breaking away, panting for breath and Astarion followed, hands on his chest pushing him back until he was reclining in the grass and Astarion crawled on top of him like a panther, leaning down to take his lips again, moaning as Gale’s hands swept along his back, scar tissue sensitive under soft cloth and softer palms.

“Can I have it all, Gale?” Astarion murmured between kisses, nipping at his bottom lip and drinking in the gasp. “Can I have all of you?”

Gale’s eyes were molten brown, heated in a way that Astarion usually only saw in the midst of battle. He’d been fire and lightning in the fight against Cazador, an unstoppable force and an immovable object. His gorgeous darling, who freed him from his shackles and helped kill his tormentor. Who was giving up becoming a God for him, who he had given up becoming a God for… who needed divinity when he had this before him?

Gale’s hands slide up to cup his face, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of Astarion’s cheekbones, a tender graze of the sensitive skin beneath his eyes. Gale looked at him with such pure devotion, it almost hurt to look at. What had he ever done to deserve someone looking at him like he was the most divine thing he had ever seen? How had Mystra given up those eyes? More the fool her, because nothing would ever make him give this up. He would have all of Gale, and it would be given willingly.

Gale seemed to agree with his internal monologue as he leaned up to brush his lips softly against Astarion’s. “What a foolish question,” Gale murmured. “Have you not noticed that you already have it? Whatever I was, whatever I am, and whatever I will be… all of it is yours. For as long as you will have me.”

“And if I want you forever?” Astarion asked hoarsely, words pressed into the lips pressed against his.

“Then I say that even that is not enough,” Gale pulled back a scant inch to press his lips to Astarion’s forehead. “You have bewitched me…” a kiss to his cheek “body and soul…” his other cheek “And I love…” a kiss to his eye “I love…” his other eye “I love you.” A mere brush of lips, “And I wish to never be parted from you ever.”

Astarion stopped his words with another kiss and pressed him to the ground, ready to live with his love at his side.

Chapter 27: Indulgence

Summary:

A sensuous little interlude before settling a score...

They were to infiltrate the devil’s home soon.

Lae’zel’s patience waiting for them to find the Hammer had nearly run out. She’d threatened to skewer Tav with one of his own horns if they did not make the time soon. Tav had taken it to heart, smart man, and instructed them all to rest up and get ready. They’d taken the instructions to heart: Tav, Karlach and Wyll had chosen to visit a few old friends in the city, Shadowheart was spending it with her parents, Lae’zel was continuing to sharpen her sword, Halsin was communing with nature of whatever he did while Jaheira visited her children with Minsc. Tara was visiting Morena. That left Gale and Astarion with run of the shared quarters.

And they were taking advantage of it.

“Ah! Astarion- careful!” Gale gasped out, fingers curling into the vampire spawn’s shoulders as Astarion nipped at his shoulder again, drawing a hint of blood to the surface. “We’re supposed to be resting-!”

Astarion’s hands on his ass gripped the round cheeks tightly and pulled him down even harder, making him groan. The shared bathtub was barely big enough for one, let alone two grown men trying to squeeze themselves into it. Hence, Astarion had suggested Gale sit in his lap: for water conservation purposes, he insisted. Gale just gave him that look of ‘you’re not fooling anyone, let alone me’, but he was also a smitten puppy and had acquiesced with little protest.

And Astarion intended to reward him thoroughly.

“I, for one, am feeling very rested,” Astarion purred, tucking his face against the exposed column of Gale’s neck as his head lolled back with a low moan. “In fact, I feel positively rejuvenated, truly a hot bath does wonders.” One hand left its prized position on Gale’s ass to trail along the seam of his thigh and thumb along those pretty, plump lips surrounding his cock. “As does an even hotter cunt.”

Gale’s face was flushed form a combination of the steam and undoubtedly Astarion’s words. “Must you be so uncouth?”

Astarion’s laugh echoed unabashedly throughout the rooms. Despite the humour being at his expense, Gale adored how easily genuine laughter came to Astarion now. The boisterous fake laughs had almost become a thing of the past, remnants of more careful times. He had no need for them anymore. “You are such a delightful bundle of contradictions, do you know that? Not even a few minutes ago, you were grinding your delightful ass against my cock trying to coax me to fuck you, and now you’re blushing because I’m singing praise of your pretty flower?”

“Astarion!” Gale’s face somehow turned even redder and the spawn couldn’t help but tug him down again, bucking his hips up to make sure Gale felt the next thrust as deep in him as he could go. Judging by the shudder and flutter of slick, hot muscle around his cock, Astarion was sure he liked it. “You- you know what effect that sort of… vernacular has on my desires-”

“You mean how you get so wet when I talk about how much I love looking at you down there?” Astarion grinned, feeling another involuntary squeeze of his cock. “How much I love burying my face between your pretty, pink petals, and feeling you gush around me tongue? Savouring your hard little bud between my lips and giving it a little tug, just to hear you squeal-”

“Astarion,” this time the uttering of his name was more a desperate moan than chiding.

“You feel so lovely around me,” Astarion murmured, shifting to grip his lover’s hips and drawing him down in a gentle, yet insistent rhythm. “You’re so tight and hot… perfectly snug. Like I’ve carved a space inside you that only I can fill…” He shifted his hand below to press his thumb against Gale’s clit, coaxing another shudder and a more insistent press of his hips, like Gale was trying to get more of him than he already had. “I love how responsive and sensitive you are… my poor darling going all those long months in his tower alone with no one touching you, caressing you… I am going to make up for every moment you didn’t have someone fucking you until you were screaming.”

“You’ve already- ah! You’ve already caught up to the first month I think,” Gale laughed breathlessly, hips tilting to grind against the pressure of Astarion’s thumb, just enough to tantalize. His head lolled back bonelessly as Astarion pressed harder, just how he liked it. “Gods, your hands… I thought nothing could compare to bonding in the Astral Planes… every touch of yours reminds me just how much sweeter the Material Plane can be.”

“That’s right, my darling,” Astarion watched his eyes flutter shut as he started to rub hard, tight circles around his clit, Gale’s chest heaving with each panting breath. “Let me keep you here with me… inside and around your sinful body, wrestling you down to the dirt with the rest of us whilst you try to flit away to the Gods.” He leaned forward to take a pert nipple between his lips, making Gale hiss as he licked away trickling drops of water until he could taste nothing but sweet skin. “My adorable would-be God… perfect exactly like this, exactly as you are: my sweet, sweet, darling.”

“Astarion…” Gale’s voice started to crack and he started moving his hips with more urgency, drawing himself up until Astarion was in danger of slipping out and then dropping down to envelop him again, making him groan. The water of the tub started to slosh more violently, splashing on the ground as Astarion met him for each thrust, fingers digging into the meat of his ass to pull him down more forcefully as he continued to flick his clit with his other hand, swapping to his other nipple to treat it the same, leaving the other wet and aching in the warm air.

“Come,” Astarion growled and Gale keened loudly, the thread of restraint in him snapping as he buried his face in Astarion’s shoulder, hips bucking uncontrollably in his climax, gushing around Astarion’s cock and squeezing him so tightly that the vampire spawn could no longer hold back, shooting his load deep inside his clenching cunt. Astarion kept fucking into him, thumb rubbing his clit faster and faster until Gale let out a shriek and climaxed again, tightening around Astarion so much, it was almost painful, but he didn’t let up, not until Gale’s hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged at it desperately, the stimulation turning almost painful for its intensity. Astarion finally let up and Gale collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily and shuddering as the aftershocks coursed through him.

“You brute,” Gale gasped out, no heat to his voice as he nuzzled under his jaw.

“It isn’t my fault you look so edible when it feels so good it hurts,” Astarion said remorselessly, holding him close. “Literally, even. If bloodletting weren’t out of the question for fear of Shadowheart’s wrath, I’d be sinking my teeth into you right now.”

“An overly cautious approach, but perhaps warranted considering the undertaking we are about to embark upon,” Gale kissed the underside of his chin, a little flick of his tongue. “A shame though: I do so love having you feast upon me, after all.”

“My pretty little treat,” Astarion grinned. “A delicious one as well, at least the parts I’ve tasted.” A mischievous gleam in his eyes and Gale remembered all the rumours whispered in Blackstaff of elven stamina. And vampire stamina. All coming together in one sinful package. “Though I think I might be interested in indulging in some of the parts I haven’t tasted yet.”

Gale would blame the mind-blowing orgasms from earlier for how long it took him to glean Astarion’s meaning before his eyes went wide and his mouth went dry. “Oh. Oh. I- really?”

“Really,” Astarion’s hand drifted a bit lower and his thumb brushed against said part. “Only with your consent, of course. Has anyone ever touched you here?”

“I- no,” Gale stammered, face turning bright red. “B-but you can’t really be- are you sure about that?”

“Oh darling, I would be happy to introduce you to the pleasures of your other pretty hole,” Astarion purred. “Might not be as wet as your lovely cunt, but trust me when I say it can feel pretty damn good. Only if you’re interested of cour-”

“Yes!” Gale blurted out, making Astarion blink from the forceful response and then grin like a Cheshire cat at his ensuing embarrassment. “Gods, you really are going to ruin me…”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Astarion tilted his head up to kiss him again, pulling back just as Gale started to get lost in it, drawing a whimper. “Come on now, we need to be dry for this. And watch your step, I think we’ve given the patrons below us a shower at this stage. Much deserved, in my humble opinion.”

Gale reluctantly drew himself off Astarion, shuddering as his length slipped out of him. He waved his hand absently to clear out the water they had displaced and grabbed one of the towels they had set out to dry himself off. He yelped as Astarion dropped his own towel onto his head and started roughly drying his hair, laughing as he tried to fend him off.

“Astarion!” The vampire spawn grinned as he fluidly dodged Gale’s attempts to bat him off, only letting him go once his hair was an absolute mess. Gale glared half-heartedly at him from beneath ruffled wet strands of chestnut hair, though any effect was lost on the fact that he looked like he’d been dragged out a hedge backwards.

“You are awful,” Gale accused, trying to finger-comb his hair back into some semblance of order.

“Why, thank you,” Astarion said with no remorse whatsoever, looking annoyingly well put together. Gale was tempted to return the favour, but he was pretty sure he’d get his arms ripped off. “But because I’m nice, I’ll help you sort out the tangles. Honestly, darling, you really should take better care of your hair.”

“You’re the one who tangled it in the first place!”

“What a baseless accusation to throw at your oh-so-adoring lover who is offering to help you sort out that bird’s nest.”

“Well, you’ve lost your helping privileges, you scoundrel,” Gale threw his towel in Astarion’s face and dried himself off with a flick of his wrist, hair back to being dry and immaculate.

“Ruin my fun, why don’t you?” Astarion groused, then looped his towel around Gale’s waist and tugged him back against him. “I suppose I’ll have to make some new mischief then.”

“Like you’ve ever needed the excuse,” Gale scoffed, going with the pull and wrapping his arms around the vampire spawn in turn. Thanks to the hot bath, Astarion’s skin actually felt warm against him, a pleasant change. “Now, do you plan to keep verbally sparring with me, or did you have some other plans to enact while we still have our quarters to ourselves?”

“Did they not teach you patience at Blackstaff?” Astarion grumbled with no heat, letting the towel drop to the floor and guiding Gale back towards their little corner with hands on his hips.

“If they did, I slept through the lectures,” Gale countered, choosing to be a menace and leaning in to nibble at Astarion’s ear, making his fingers dig into his skin. “Life waits for no man, and I don’t intend to fall behind.”

“How about you fall on the bed instead?” Astarion made to tip him onto it, but Gale seemed to have something else in mind. Astarion yelped as Gale’s foot tangled with his and he blinked up at the ceiling from where he was lying on his back on the bed instead, Gale looking smug from in front of him.

“I didn’t teach you those tricks to use them against me, you know,” Astarion said, trying to sound cross.

“Liar, you loved that,” Gale said with that insufferable assurance, though considering Astarion was hard and bobbing in front of him, he probably had reason to be. “Just relax, my love, and let me indulge myself for a little bit.” He slid to his knees without a wince for once, the hot water apparently soothing some of his aches. “Let me take care of you first.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but I could be persuaded, I suppose,” Astarion leaned up on his hands, looking down at Gale with a lustful grin. “I hope you appreciate all I do for you.”

“I do,” Gale cut through his teasing with sincerity, making the elf feel warm in his chest. “I appreciate that you try very hard to meet my needs, and that you’re being more honest about how you feel.” His warm eyes shone with pride, “You’ve been doing such a wonderful job, my love.”

“Gale,” Astarion groaned without heat. “As much as I love you inflating my ego and your sweet, mushy sentiments, I will remind you that the last time we went down that rabbit hole, we both ended up disappointed at the end.”

“I wouldn’t say disappointed,” Gale protested, but he shuffled a bit closer and wrapped his hand around Astarion’s length, coaxing it back into full hardness. “Just maybe more… okay fine, maybe a little disappointed, but I wanted you to know how much I-”

Astarion threaded his fingers into the lavender-scented waves of his hair and tilted his face up to kiss him silent, his most effective (and enjoyable) method of doing so. Gale huffed a laugh through his nose but forwent words in favour of letting his tongue flick at Astarion’s lips. The spawn shuddered at the flick of that talented tongue, only the promise of feeling it on a more sensitive part of him allowing him to let him go, though not before nipping at his bottom lip, humming at the slight taste of delicious blood.

“I know,” Astarion said, truthfully. “And I do too.”

Gale smiled at him, warm and loving, before it took on a sultry edge as he shifted to mouth down the middle of Astarion’s chest, tongue tracing quivering lines along the cut of muscle along his front until the tip of Astarion’s cock was brushing against his jaw, leaving a shiny line of wetness along the soft bristles of his beard. Astarion shuddered at the sensation and Gale deliberately brushed against it again, this time following the motion with his tongue tracing a hot line along the length of him.

“I love the sensation of you filling my mouth,” Gale murmured, letting his lips wrap around the tip of him with a gentle suck, making Astarion’s groan. “I love the taste of you on my lips for hours after, the phantom weight of you longering on my tongue.” Each word was breathed out as he kissed a line down and up Astarion’s length, soft and teasing, making Astarion fist his hands in his hair and their sheets. “I love that you sometimes leave my jaw sore and my throat aching for you…” A swirl of his tongue gathered his precome for him to swallow. “And I love that such an splendid sight is only for my eyes to see,” Gale turned his eyes up to meet Astarion’s give him a wink and then swallowed him down to the root in one, practised motion.

Astarion saw stars as his length was engulfed in the hot, wet heat of Gale’s mouth, that talented tongue already tracing the length of the vein of his cock, the pressure bringing pleasurable tears to his eyes. His grip on Gale’s hair was almost tight enough to hurt, but the wizard seemed unbothered by it, bobbing his head along Astarion’s length, letting it slide almost completely out of his mouth before swallowing it down again.

“Gods, you’re so eager,” Astarion groaned, rocking his hips up to meet Gale, sending his cock further down his throat, almost enough to choke him had it not been for the amount of practise he had now. “Like you’re voracious for me, my darling.” He gave Gale’s hair a little tug, pulling him back enough to make him look up. “You make such a sinful sight like this: on your knees before me with your pretty lips stretched around me. And I know you love it, I can smell how aroused you are. Are you making a little puddle from your juices?” He grinned as Gale’s cheeks flushed red, a little warbling moan thrumming through his cock and making him bite back a groan. “Good. I want you wet and ready, darling, because the only place I’m going to come this time is inside your pretty, plump ass.”

Gale practically forced himself down on Astarion’s cock after that, taking him in so deep, Astarion felt the tip of him bump against the back of Gale’s throat. Tears welled up in those doe eyes, but the wizard was not deterred, pulling back and fucking his mouth on Astarion’s dick again and again. The spawn felt his own pleasure surging and indulged in a few more thrusts, the last one tugging Gale down until his nose was pressed against his pelvis and keeping him there for a few long seconds. Gale’s throat fluttered around his dick and he felt him trying to reflexively swallow before he settled, keeping Astarion’s cock warm in the hot furnace of his mouth. Astarion made a mental note to play around with that docility some other time before drawing back as Gale gasped for air.

“Gods, I love you,” Astarion said, thumb smearing his precoma on Gale’s lips, biting his lip as Gale nipped at it, pink tongue flicking out for a lick. “Now stand up and bend over the bed for me, darling. Its my turn to use my practised tongue on you.”

Gale shivered and almost fell over in his eagerness to follow Astarion’s instructions, bracing his hands on the mattress next to him. Astarion stood behind him, taking in the sight of his broad shoulders tapering into a narrow waist before curving around the most perfect ass he’d ever seen. Gods, if Mystra hadn’t been taking full advantage of that part of him, she truly was the stupidest goddess in the pantheon.

Gale was indeed dripping wet and Astarion’s mouth watered at the thought of getting his tongue in him again. But this time, he wanted to do something different. Another first for his love that would belong solely to him. His hands cupped the globes of Gale’s ass and gave it a squeeze before parting the cheeks, making Gale shiver as his gaze fell onto his untouched, puckered hole.

“Gods, you are going to be so tight,” Astarion murmured in a low throaty growl that sent another shudder through the wizard. “This might be a challenge for both of us now… yours to take me, and mine to resist coming all over you before that.”

“S-sounds like-” Gale’s voice cracked and he audibly swallowed. “Well, while neither of us are ones to shy away from our desires… I’m sure we can resist the temptation for the promise of something… better?”

“When the temptation is you?” Astarion pressed his thumb against Gale’s hole, drawing a gasp as the tight little pucker fluttered around it, sucking at the pad of his finger. “I haven’t been able to resist you yet, my darling… but I might be able to power through with the promising ambition of feeling this tight ass around my cock and having my come drip from both of your holes.”

Gale let out a desperate whine that had Astarion fumbling to grip himself, cock jumping with a spurt of precoma dripping from the tip. “Gods, yes… please Astarion…”

“For all I like to hear you talk about the weave, your studies, your cat-” “-tressym!-” “the best noises you make are these,” he coaxed the tip of his thumb into his rim, even as he twisted his wrist to let his other fingers dip into Gale’s cunt, collecting the copious amounts of slick pouring from him and slicking his thighs. “I can’t wait to hear the noises you’ll make as I open your ass with your own nectar, my darling, but I’m sure they’ll be exquisite.”

Notes:

This was going to be a one chapter sexy interlude, but it went above 4000+ words so now it's a two chapter interlude because like Gale, I say things in twenty words when two will do. Thanks for sticking with this story so far!

Chapter 28: New Frontiers

Summary:

Another first.

Astarion’s prediction was looking to come true.

“Gods, do you have any idea how much I wanted to do this when we were trudging through those disgusting hovels when we first came together?” the vampire spawn growled, hand on the back of Gale’s neck keeping him pinned to the bed, back arched and ass up as Astarion sank his fingers deep into his cunt again, thumb now firmly lodged inside his snug hole. Gale’s breath hitched and his response was another low groan. “All haughty words and smug satisfaction, so confident in your own intelligence and acting so superior to the rest of us… how I wanted to see you brought down into the dirt with the rest of us just like this.”

“I-I wasn’t that bad,” Gale gasped out, shuddering as Astarion’s fingers dragged against his slick walls again before withdrawing, leaving him aching for more. “You were just prickly-”

“You introduced yourself as ‘a wizard of considerable acclaim’,” Astarion scoffed, “I’m quite sure I also heard something about ‘exceptional accomplishment’ in your bragging-”

“It’s not brag-” Gale’s voice broke as Astarion drew his thumb out and started circling his hole with a slick finger. “It’s only bragging if there’s no element of truth...”

“Gods, you arrogant little shit,” the tone was fond. “The most annoying thing about you is that you lived up to every overconfident, pompous claim that came out of that pretty mouth.”

“Takes one to know one,” Gale laughed breathlessly. “I wasn’t the one preening about how beautiful I am to anyone who would listen.”

“Well, if no one else was going to say what you were all undoubtedly thinking…”

“I believe I was thinking, ‘wow this alarmingly pale individual really wants to sleep with me for some nefarious reason and does he actually think no one can tell he’s a vampire when he’s pale as milk and sporting fang marks on his neck? Also he’s very beautiful.’”

Astarion retorted by sliding a slick finger in his ass and crooking it, making Gale’s snark turn into a moan. Astarion barely bit back one of his own, cock twitching as he imagined that snug, tight heat around him. His grip on the back of Gale’s neck tightened, keeping his face pressed against the bed as he slowly started to move his finger, drawing back and sliding back in, gently stretching him out. He kept an eye on his wizard, alert to any signs of discomfort or pain, but the only thing Gale seemed to be feeling was eager anticipation, hips trying to tilt up invitingly towards Astarion despite his position. The spawn was eager to accept the invite, but not until he was ready, no matter how much he ached to slide inside him.

“You are going to feel so good around me,” Astarion murmured, tugging on his rim to coax another slick finger in, sliding them in deep before scissoring them to Gale’s warbling cry. “Gods, every part, everything about you always feels so good… how could anyone ever be foolish enough to let you out of their grasp?” He drew his fingers out, watching Gale’s fluttering hole attempt to close, and then pushed them both in again, Gale’s back attempting to arch against his grip, a loud gasp escaping him. “I’m not that foolish, my darling… I don’t let go of my treasures.”

Gale squeezed around him and Astarion could smell the fresh wave of slick wetting his thighs at his words. He grinned and leaned over to nip at the back of Gale’s shoulders, sinking his fangs in just enough to draw a few scant drops of blood that he licked away. “You like that idea, don’t you, my love? You like that I possess you, that I won’t let you escape my grasp… you like that I treasure you like the precious, priceless gem you are.” Gale’s ass pushed back against him, trying to draw his fingers deeper and Astarion pulled back just a few scant inches. “Careful, precious thing. I won’t let anyone damage you, not even yourself.”

“Astarion…” Gale’s voice was thick and dripping with need, what little of his face visible red and burning hot. “Please… no more teasing…”

“Beg me for it,” Astarion said, the hand on the back of his neck sliding up into his hair to take a fistful of thick, chestnut locks and pull his head back, making his back arch. “Beg me to take you here where no one has ever touched you before.” He drew his fingers back and shoved them in hard, tugging his hair. “Beg a mere vampire spawn to fuck your virgin ass with his cock, Archmage Gale of Waterdeep.”

“Please!” Gale begged, panting, trying desperately to shove back onto his fingers even more, spreading his legs for leverage and flushing bright red at the thought of the image he must make. “Please, Astarion, my love… please fuck me…”

“Gods, you are irresistible,” Astarion murmured, finally withdrawing his fingers and letting them settle on his ass, thumb tugging at his rim to admire the gape of him. “How can I ever say no to anything you ask for in that sweet voice? Can you work up a little more of your magic, darling?”

If Gale weren’t a wizard of considerable renown, he probably wouldn’t have been able to, but he managed to shakily cast a Prestidigitation cantrip on Astarion’s hand, followed by a Grease spell. He heard Astarion slicking himself up and whined, shifting on shaky legs, making Astarion bite his lip as that tempting, full ass swayed in front of him. When he pressed the tip of him against that pretty gape, it took all his willpower not to surge and fuck him full, instead digging his fingers into Gale’s hip as he slowly pushed in, groaning loudly at the sensation of hot and tight inching down his cock as he filled him up.

Gale’s hands fisted into the sheets, threatening to tear them as the foreign yet familiar sensation of fullness swept through his lower body. He gasped for air, forgetting to breathe as he felt the cool, heavy weight of Astarion filling him up where no one had ever touched him, the stretch overwhelming and feeling like the spawn had carved a space for himself that would never be filled again. He reached a hand back and fumbled to dig his fingers into his thigh, anchoring himself and torn between pulling him closer and pushing him to slow down.

The surge paused and Astarion’s hand in his hair loosened its grip, turning from dominating to gentle. “Gale?” a soft check in.

Words were impossible and the wizard just bit his lip, keening as Astarion leaned down over his back to press a cool kiss to his shoulder, another one at the crook of his neck and his hand slipped to his front to gently rub over his clit, coaxing him to relax as he forced himself to stay still. “Let me know when you’re ready, my sweet,” Astarion murmured, letting his other hand slip from his hair to curl around the front of his shoulders. “Gods, you feel so good…”

They stayed like that for a few long moments, the tension in Gale’s body gradually loosening as Astarion plied him with gentle touches and gentler kisses, until he was craning his head back to meet his lips, more a clumsy bumping of mouths, but still tender. “Please…” he gasped, tugging at Astarion’s thigh, breath hitching as it drew him in a bit more. “Astarion…”

He could no more deny Gale than he could make the sun stay risen. He drew back and sank back in, repeating the motion slowly and tenderly until finally he sank to the hilt and groaned into his shoulder. “Fuck, you’re so achingly tight… my perfect darling…”

“More,” Gale murmured, squirming underneath him and whining at the sensation as it jostled the heavy weight within him. He felt like he was dripping onto the floor from how aroused he was now. “Please, my love… no more waiting…”

Astarion didn’t have much more patience in him either. He drew back slowly and then thrust back in, the slide now smooth and slick as Gale welcomed him like a missing piece he had been longing for. He slowly started to pick up speed, still keeping a careful ear out for any pain or discomfort in his noises, but all he could hear right now was pleasure and need. It felt very different to his cunt, not quite as wet, but tighter and so searingly hot that he felt he would burn to ash, and happily.

He drew Gale up with the arm around his shoulders, and coaxed a knee to prop itself onto the bed, the change in position making them both moan as Astarion sunk somehow deeper. It also put their faces on a more even keel and Gale was twisting as much as he could within his grasp to kiss him harshly, almost splitting his lip with the force. It did draw a bit of blood to the pale skin, that Gale licked away with a ferality that made Astarion almost come on the spot.

“Gods, you insatiable thing,” the vampire spawn said with admiration. “Who would’ve thought that prim and proper Wizard of Waterdeep would like a cock up his ass?” He laughed at Gale’s baleful glare, an admirable effort considering he was moaning with almost every thrust. “My delightful little darling… you always surprise me and I love you for every time you do.”

“I-It can’t be that surprising?” Gale stuttered out, shuddering as Astarion thrust back in hard and ground against him. “I’m not exactly t-timid in the bedroom, you know…”

“Oh, trust me, I do,” his hand roamed along his chest, feeling the tickle of his chest hair as he settled on a nipple. “The biggest surprise was how adventurous and eager you are: you hide it so well behind that façade of demureness, but I suppose it’s true what they say: it’s always the quietest ones.” A snort. “Though I don’t know if quiet is the word I’d use to describe you.”

“And what about you?” Gale’s hand on his thigh shifted to grab his ass, urging the vampire to fuck him harder. “All that boasting of hedonistic debauchery,” he grinned at Astarion, far too cocky for someone taking it up the ass, “and what titillates you the most is a quiet night reading in front of the fire and making love after.”

“Everything is titillating when you’re involved, my darling,” Astarion pinched his nipple and shuddered as Gale tightened around him. “But there is something… amazing about just being in your arms.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he nipped at Astarion’s jaw, leaving what would eventually bloom into a small purple bruise. “We can indulge after?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Astarion’s hand resting on his groin shifted down to slide between his lips, sinking into his wetness and Gale’s hand shot down to wrap around his wrist, hips bucking into his palm involuntarily as it slid over his clit. “Can you come from me fucking your ass, darling?”

Gale opened his mouth to answer, but it was a rhetorical question as Astarion’s other hand shifted up to loosely clasp his neck and keep him pinned against his front as he started to fuck him in earnest, drawing back and plunging in over and over, even as his fingers slipped into his cunt, palm pressing against his clit and grinding against it. Gale let out a warbling cry, head lolling back against Astarion’s shoulder, letting him see Gale’s helpless, wide-eyed gaze directed at nothing as Astarion drew him to a powerful orgasm, once that had him clenching around his cock and his fingers as he squirted onto the floor, soaking Astarion’s hand and some of the bedsheets. Astarion started to move his fingers just as the orgasm started to wane and expertly coaxed him to another one before his control shattered and he flooded Gale’s ass with his own come, the orgasm so powerful, it actually hurt as he pumped him full.

It felt like it went on forever, both of drawing aftershocks of pleasure from each other until Gale’s weak grip on his wrist became more insistent and Astarion slowly drew his fingers from him. Gale lolled forward to brace himself onto the bed with shaking arms as Astarion slowly drew out of him, letting out a small sounds as Astarion’s softening cock slipped out of him, followed by a stream of his come.

“Gods, if I had it in me, I’d be painting your cunt white as well,” the vampire spawn said breathlessly, “Once this whole mess with the Netherbrain is over, we are not leaving the bedroom for a fortnight.”

Gale laughed weakly, “Please remember that I am human and that humans do not possess levels of elven stamina… I am going to be most useless without rest breaks in the middle…”

“Gods, humans are so high maintenance. You’re lucky I love you,” Astarion said with his signature haughtiness, but Gale knew him well enough to hear the tenderness underneath.

“I know I am,” nothing but true sincerity that still made Astarion’s chest heart. “What would make me even luckier was if my dear love would draw us another bath… preferably before our friends return and see the mess we’ve made. Karlach is going to kill us if we miss a spot like last time.”

Astarion scoffed. “Most of this mess is you, you know.”

“At your hands. Chop, chop, my love.”

Astarion protested some more, but considering he made sure Gale had a cup of water and a few slices of sunmelon to snack on while he filled the tub, the wizard didn’t think he minded as much as he claimed to.

Notes:

Now that they're done fucking, it's time to fuck up Raphael...