Chapter Text
Astarion winces as he rubs his back.
It's the goddamn weather again, he thinks. It's about to rain and the pressure changes always make his back hurt.
“Hey Fangs! Another storm coming?” asks Karlach as she walks in, a laptop in her hand.
Karlach is Uthgar Labs’ creative advertising lead, her work always ending up on Astarion’s table. Astarion, her counterpart, is the in-house lawyer. His job is to make sure that Karlach’s bold ideas won’t get them sued or alienate any customers, a job easier said than done.
The company sells various supplements, proteins and workout products. While their products are some of the best on the market, Karlach can still get a little overzealous when describing the outcomes of using them.
Over the years, Astarion and Karlach have become fast friends. Karlach's boisterous personality is a good counterpoint to Astarion’s outwardly stern demeanor. Of course once he opens up, he’s as soft as she is. It only took Karlach a few months to start calling him Fangs, so named because of his slightly protruding incisors.
On top of her laptop, she carries an envelope, which she hands to Astarion.
“The team and I pitched in to get you a massage gift card. You’ve been even crankier than usual lately, and we thought it might help if your back wasn’t so sore. I can’t recommend this guy, Gale, enough. He fixed me right up after my heart surgery. He specializes in post-surgical massages, has an M.D. and everything. You should give him a try.”
Astarion opens the envelope and reads the card.
“Magic Touch Massage, 3 visits”
“Ignore the name. It’s cringy, but the guy really knows what he’s doing.”
Astarion tries to hide his disdain. “Thank you. I’ll take a look later.”
Karlach looks at him sceptically but lets it go.
Karlach opens her laptop and begins to explain her latest idea to him for a new protein bar’s ad campaign.
“Alright... I’ll remove the bit where she rips the guy’s head off for grabbing her.”
“Thank you, darling. She can turn into a barbarian and scare him off, but no teenager’s parent is going to let them buy our products if we are seen to encourage physical violence.”
“He deserves it, though.”
“Absolutely.”
“Meet you for lunch?”
“Sure.”
“Can I bring Wyll and Lae’zel?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks! See you in front of Daddy’s Greens.”
Astarion has no intention of using the gift card Karlach gave him. His back is so mangled that he doesn’t trust anyone, bar his specialists at the hospital, to touch it.
He shoves it in his desk drawer, fully intending on forgetting about it.
Astarion makes it to Daddy’s Greens before Karlach and the others, so he takes a seat outside. It’s only a block from the office and serves the best salads in the Gate. The Green Sylvanus dressing is to die for. The owner of the restaurant is a wood elf named Halsin, and he’s one of the kindest men Astarion’s ever met. He always makes time to talk to Astarion, and over the years, they’ve become good friends.
Even in the worst of the lunch rush, Halsin finds time to meet him outside.
“Hello, little star. How have you been?”
Astarion smiles at him. “My back is doing me in, but otherwise I’ve been alright.”
“I’m sad to hear it.”
“How about you?”
“I’m well. The animals are keeping me busy, but it’s nice to find balance with the restaurant.”
Halsin has a veritable zoo at his ranch outside of Baldur’s Gate: chickens, turkeys, ducks, horses, goats and sheep. Astarion’s visited a few times, though he prefers watching the animals to interacting with them.
“Anyone in particular causing a fuss?”
“Miss Daisy is about to calve for the first time, so I’ve been a bit worried about her. She hasn’t been as active as I’d like her to be.”
“You don’t think she’s earned a rest, being pregnant?”
“I suppose you’re right. She’s still eating well, which is good.”
"Sounds par for the course for someone pregnant, don't you think?"
Astarion hears Karlach before he sees her and the others crossing the street. “Fangs! There you are!”
“Took you long enough, darlings.”
“It took us forever to drag Lae out of the lab.”
Lae’zel shrugs. “I am very close to perfecting my new protein mousse formula. The texture is optimal, but it needs more flavor and less sweetness.”
Karlach smiles. “And it’ll still be there after lunch.”
“Technically speaking, it is a balanced meal on its own.”
Wyll rolls his eyes. “I know, but you’ve been eating test batches for lunch every other day this week. You need a vegetable. Maybe ten.”
Lae’zel give him the evil eye. “Fine.”
Wyll is the company’s lead accountant, and the CEO’s son. Not that the two are connected: Wyll is an absolute professional in his own right. He’s a cheerful human with a collection of prosthetic eyes for the one he lost as a child. Today, his eye is a glittery claret red.
They each order their usuals. For Astarion, that’s a Green Sylvanus chicken bowl with quinoa and hummus. When he goes to get it, he sees that Halsin has given him some extra chicken, and decorated his salad with pomegranate seeds.
“Thank you, darling.”
Halsin gives him a broad smile.
Their lunch is uneventful, Karlach and Lae’zel debating the merits of different lat exercises while Wyll and Astarion exchange book recommendations. After their meals, they each order a to-go coffee and walk back to the office.
Closing his office door behind him, another twinge in his back makes Astarion double over, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He breathes through gritted teeth, willing himself to relax. It’s moments like these that he wishes he still had a prescription for painkillers. Unfortunately, his medical records all have him rightfully listed as an addict, so he doesn’t.
Instead, Astarion retrieves his buckwheat pillow and warms it in the microwave, pressing it to his back. Unfortunately, it doesn’t so much as touch the pain. He massages his back, stretches and even tries lying on the floor, but it’s no use. Astarion packs up his things and steels himself to head home. As he’s leaving, he turns back, grabbing the massage voucher from his drawer.
On his way home, Astarion breaks. He opens the Magic Touch Massage website and books an appointment for the next day, checking the box for “Emergency booking”.
Twenty minutes later, his phone rings.
“Ancunín”
“Mr. Ancunín, it’s Dr. Dekarios from Magic Touch Massage.”
“Hello.”
“I see you booked an appointment for tomorrow as an emergency. I’ve just had a cancellation for later this evening, and I was wondering if you’d be interested.”
Astarion sighs in relief. “Yes, please.”
“Great, I’ll book you in. The appointment is for an hour at 5 pm. You indicated that you’ve had a spinal fusion surgery in the booking. In these cases, I find it’s easier to treat patients if they can bring their medical records or X-rays, but I understand if the notice is too short to find them.”
“I can bring my X-rays; I have them handy.”
“Good. I’ll see you at 5.”
“Thank you.”
After a truly miserable hour waiting for his appointment, Astarion gathers his medical records and departs to the massage studio, which is thankfully only a ten-minute walk away.
The brick buildings facade is ordinary - only a small bronze sign betrays it as anything other than residential. Astarion rings the buzzer and is quickly let in. The reception is simple in its furnishings, a large bay window overtaking most of the room. Behind a reception desk, a handsome human greets him.
“Mr. Ancunín, I presume? I’m Gale Dekarios.”
“Pleasure to meet you. Call me Astarion.”
“Astarion. You indicated in your intake note that you’ve had spinal fusion surgery. How long ago was that?”
“It’s been 20 years, give or take.”
“An accident of some kind?”
“Yes, I fell down the stairs.”
“That must’ve been quite an unlucky fall. Do you have your medical records?”
Astarion produces the records from his bag. “Yes, I do.”
Gale takes them from him, flicking through the thick folder until he finds the X-rays. He studies them against the light from the window, scrutinizing the positions of the plates and screws that hold Astarion’s spine together. After a few minutes, he turns to Astarion.
“I think I’ve seen what I need to see. Please follow me to the treatment room.”
The treatment room, for lack of a better word, is cozy. The brick facade from outside is still visible in the walls, and the room is dominated by plants laid out on shelves, hanging from the wall or overflowing from the tops of cabinets.
Gale leads Astarion to the room, then gestures for him to sit on the edge of the massage table.
“I take it from your medical records and from the way that you’re walking that you’re here for your back?”
“Indeed I am. it always acts up when the weather changes, and I’m quite certain we’re about to get some torrential rain.”
Gale smiles faintly. “I see. Many of my clients have been saying the same thing.”
Gale checks the records again. “Are you familiar with this kind of treatment? Have you ever received a massage on your back?”
“No. I’ve only ever worked with physical therapists.”
Gale nods. “That’s all right. The idea is that I manually activate and hopefully release some of the tension in your sore muscles, which should alleviate some of the soreness. The principle is the same as if you massage yourself, but generally it’s more effective when someone else does it for you.
This is easiest if you remove your shirt, but if you're uncomfortable with it I can work around it. The same applies for the rest of the treatment - anything you’re uncomfortable with, we can work around. I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing and why.”
Astarion looks at the hole in the table, internally shuddering at the prospect of leaving himself vulnerable to a stranger.
Gale seems to sense his apprehension. “We can also start with you upright, if you would prefer. It’ll also allow you to get an idea of how I work.”
Astarion nods, then unbuttons his shirt, hanging it neatly on the provided hanger. Gale brings over a massage chair, instructing Astarion to lean some of his weight onto the rest.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll start with your shoulders. I’ll use some oil to reduce friction and start gentle.”
Gale shows him the bottle of oil before rubbing some between his hands. Gale starts at Astarion’s neck, slowly and methodically moving his way down to one shoulder at a time. He works the tension out of Astarion’s neck and shoulders and triceps, warm hands soothing the radiating ache, constantly explaining which muscles he’s massaging and how they connect to his lower back.
As he works, Gale looks primarily at the area he’s working, but he periodically checks on Astarion. He’s progressively relaxing into the treatment, no longer the coiled spring of tension he was when he walked in. Once he’s gone as far down as he can with the elf in an upright position, Gale returns his hands to rest on Astarion’s shoulders.
“Do you feel comfortable lying down on the bed? It would allow me a better angle to access your lower back.”
Astarion hesitates briefly, then nods. “I think so. Should I lie on my front?”
“Yes. And again, remember that nothing happens here that you aren’t comfortable with. ”
Astarion nods again, settling into the table. Gale carefully tucks a smaller pillow under his ankles for a more natural spine alignment.
“What’s your mobility like with the fusion? Do you have any limitations, normally?”
“I can’t bend forwards very much, and there’s some limitations to how much I can rotate to the side, but other than that my mobility is alright. Until the weather changes, anyway.”
“That’s good. I’ll use the same oil here as I did on your shoulders, and I’ll keep talking as I move around the room so that you know where I am. I’ll explain what and where I’m massaging, and I’ll keep checking in about the firmness of pressure that I’m using.”
Astarion winces at the mention of pressure, considering the pain he’s already in. “Please be gentle.”
“Of course.”
True to his word, Gale is. His touch is featherlight on his first pass of Astarion’s back, running his hands along his spine to gauge the muscles beneath.
“I can feel the tension, especially near the fusion in your lower back. I can see why you’re in so much pain. How was that pressure?”
“No pain from you touching my back so far.”
“Good. I’ll increase the pressure slightly, and start in the areas with a little less tension. We can work our way up.”
Gale starts where he left off on Astarion’s upper back, teasing out the knots with light, circular movements. Anywhere he feels more tension, he eases off, and anywhere without, he adds a little more pressure. He works his way down, reoiling his hands periodically and talking to Astarion throughout. Once he gets to Astarion’s lower back, he pauses.
“Are you ready? This is probably the worst part, so I’ll go as gentle as I can.”
“As ready as I’m going to get.”
Gale starts light at first, working his way around the scars and the hardware in his back. “Is this okay?”
“Just a touch harder.”
“Okay. Just tell me if it’s too much.”
To his surprise, Astarion moans softly as Gale gets the pressure just right. “That’s perfect.”
The relief is incredible as Gale works out the knots, releasing tension that Astarion’s pretty sure has been there since the initial surgery. Gale seems to understand the momentousness of the moment, as he falls silent and keeps working. His touch is gentle and reassuring, coaxing Astarion to relax deeper and deeper into the bed.
The next thing Astarion knows, Gale is nudging his shoulder. “Astarion. You fell asleep during your massage.”
Astarion starts, starting to push himself up. He’s stopped by Gale’s gentle hand on his upper back. “Easy, there. Don’t get up too quickly. There’s no hurry, I just wanted to let you know once the session was over.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Not at all. It felt like you needed it.”
Astarion feels infinitely better than before his appointment, most of the soreness in his back dissipated already. “Perhaps I did.”
Astarion gets up slowly, surprised by the dizziness that surfaces. Gale steadies him. “The dizziness is completely normal, just keep sitting until it dissipates. How do you feel now?”
“Good. I don’t think my back has ever been this relaxed.”
“I’m glad. Take it easy for the rest of the day, and be sure to drink lots of water. It’ll help flush out the lymphatic fluid we released with the massage.”
“I will.”
Astarion puts his shirt back on, following Gale to the reception area. “Would you like to book another appointment?”
“Yes, please. How soon can I come back?”
Gale laughs. “I wouldn’t recommend more than once a week, at least at the beginning.”
“Next week, then. Same time?”
Gale checks his computer. “Sure.”