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funkzpiel · 6 months

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This is a Gift, you know...

[ warning, contains spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3 ] Gender Neutral Durge!Tav x Astarion, Post-Ending, little angsty fluff

A year after the fall of the Absolute, Astarion hides his longing well - but it is hard to forget the warmth of the sun when each day it rises without you. Tav can't change that, but that doesn't mean they can't do anything to help. After all, when has Astarion ever said no to a good surprise?

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It has been a year since the fall of the Absolute. A year since Tav denied Bhaal, then was revived after their father's murderous red grip stopped their heart within their living chest. A year since Astarion spurned Cazador's grand plan, ending the man's bid for unrivaled power. A year since they had said goodbye to their merry band of miscreants, one way or another.

One year since the last time Astarion had last seen the sun.

Tav ran a hand over their mouth, unable to forget the look of surprised joy that had bled over Astarion's face the moment he realized they had won - that the Absolute had been defeated - quickly crushed by the searing horror of recognition when his skin had begun to burn. Forced to scamper to the nearest shadow, whimpering in frightened little bursts as every last square inch of him smoked.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that a man who had suffered what he had suffered, and overcome what he had overcome, and saved all that he had saved had to run while all the rest of them celebrated in the sun. Tav had chased after them, an arrow of darkness in hand. It was a memory only remedied by the way Astarion had looked when Tav told them they'd gladly spend their future in the veil of night, if it meant sharing it hand in hand with him.

For as vain and dramatic as Astarion was, he kept true pains locked tight in his chest like a bird in a cage. Something from his days with Cazador that he hadn't quite been able to let go of yet - the irresistible urge to hide what could hurt him.

And if anyone understood urges, it was Tav. Hell, the word had even once been apart of their namesake - the only thing they remembered of themself. The Dark Urge.

Even so, that didn't mean coaxing that longing from Astarion's iron grip was easy. Astarion smiled, and chatted, and waxed poetic about this and that. He traveled on at Tav's side as though night were day, and nothing were the matter. But his dreams were not so immaculate at hiding the truth as he was. Tav knew Astarion dreamed of what could have been. The power to walk in the light, to enjoy mortal comforts. Tav knew it from murmured words tucked beneath the pall of weightless sleep. Jealous glances at advertisements, boasting this or that which only happened under the light of day. Bristling beneath his smiles every time they passed a closed shop or tavern. At least entering places had become easier at Tav's side - Tav could enter first, and extend a welcome after - but every other reminder was a barb. Astarion could have had it all; and despite doing the right thing, and saving the world, he was still condemned to the spiteful consequences of his bygone master.

Knowing this, Tav had begun to make a list. And today, they would address the first slight that the universe had made against their beloved.

"I have a surprise for you," they said as they came up beside Astarion as he read, lips brushing against the elf's elegant ear in a purr.

"Oh?" Astarion said, interest piqued. Were he a cat, his ears would have perked, Tav knew it. "I do so love surprises."

"I know," Tav said, punctuated by a peck to Astarion's pale cheek. "This way."

They had been in this place for some time now. Upon defeating the Absolute the one thing the universe had seen fit to bestow them with was monetary gratitude. Baldur's Gate had thanked them generously enough, and so when Tav and Astarion were not on the road looking for a cure to Astarion's affliction, they did have a simple home tucked away in the city. Slowly, over the course of the year, they had set about decorating it. Every knickknack added was another confirmation that this place was theirs. That this was home.

Astarion had a beautiful library, a proper bathroom - the little luxuries he had often bemoaned not having at the beginning of their journey to remove the tadpoles. And Tav, for their part, had carved away space of their own to finally find themselves now that they were Tav, and not the Dark Urge. Some things were new. Halsin had managed to convince them to take up whittling. Damon had even begun giving them lessons in minor armor and gear mending when they were in the city with enough time to spare.

But some things were old, such as the painting. Granted, it had once been done in blood and marrow, but the fundamentals remained. It seemed that not all of their creativity had come from Bhaal after all.

They brought Astarion to the man's bathroom. The room was perhaps larger than a bathroom should be in a home of their size, but it housed a beautiful brass tub that could fit them both, the cabinets framed with lush greenery that wrapped around bath salts and fine oils. At the bathroom's entrance, Tav was quick to cover Astarion's eyes with their hands, relishing in the surprised little noise that left the elf's throat - and even more so, relishing that Astarion trusted them, and did not pull away. If anything, the man seemed to melt back somewhat into the bracket of their arms with a chuckle.

"Should I be worried that this little surprise is in our bathroom?" Astarion asked, lips curved pleasantly. Tav kissed their neck just where the sharp jut of Astarion's jaw met the column of his lovely pale throat.

"No peeking," Tav said, smiling against Astarion's skin as they shuffled them forward and to the left. Here, above the sink, Tav had hung their present. Gently they instructed Astarion to tip his chin this way, his face that way. Told him to smile that way he did whenever Tav used to approach him in camp. All the while, they covered his eyes until finally Tav felt they had Astarion exactly where they wanted him. "Ready?"

"You know me, love, I'm always ready for a little--" Astarion's confident prattling fell away as Tav removed their hands, their gaze fastening onto Tav's surprise. The last word of the vampire's sentence fell from his lips in a hushed daze, "Drama..."

Before them hung a mirror, lovely beyond compare. It was framed in gilded gold, embossed with swirling leaves and elegant vines. The glass itself was expensive and immaculate. A large oval pool that reflected all before it. All except Astarion, of course.

That was why Tav had corrected it by hand.

With painstaking care, they had captured in the glass what reflections could not. They had painted the delicate veil of Astarion's lashes, and the way those lashes framed two large, clever eyes. The bow of the man's smart mouth, the creamy milk of his skin, the tender curls of his hair - it was all there, exactly matching the way Tav had adjusted their stance before the mirror. And with the mirror otherwise untouched except for where Tav had painted, it showed them as well. Tav was careful with where they put their face. Pressed to Astarion's cheek, they appeared in the mirror to nuzzle the painting as well.

Astarion took in a soft, broken little inhale.

"That's me," he breathed. Fragile in a way he had only ever allowed Tav to see.

"That's you," Tav confirmed, pressing a kiss to Astarion's neck, just at his jaw.

"I... gods above, it's been so long."

Tav let the man take it in. For as boisterous and flamboyant as their vampire was, when it mattered Astarion tended to absorb things in silence. Tav just nuzzled their cheek gently, drinking in every little breath, every sweeping dart of Astarion's gaze. The elf's hands rose to cover Tav's where they sat wrapped around Astarion's middle. Those pale fingers squeezed gently.

"That night in camp," Astarion finally said, head turned somewhat toward Tav to return their affection, foreheads brushing. "When you offered to describe me... It was silly, but I was... grateful."

"You say that like it's a great burden to compliment you," Tav said with a soft chuckle, "It was the least I could do."

"It was more than most," Astarion said, voice a bit blank in that way it sometimes did when the past leeched away his strength to shine despite it. "Everything you said, it was all quite flattering of course, but this... Tav..."

"Do you like it?" Tav asked. When Astarion did not immediately answer, Tav felt the first sliver of doubt begin to crawl insidiously in their gut.

But finally Astarion let out a short, broken bark of a laugh and said wetly, "It feels a bit vain to say I love it when it's fully a portrait of me that I'm looking at, but hell, when has that ever stopped me before? Of course I love it. And not just it..." He turned in the curl of Tav's arms - even though, for a moment he seemed loathe to turn his back on his reflection, as though it might disappear at any moment like some fever dream.

Astarion looked into their eyes, and Tav recognized the gentle awe they saw in that face. It was the same awe Tav had seen every time Astarion had looked into the sun - rising or setting - back with their minds were still occupying (mostly) unwanted passengers. Astarion was looking at Tav like they were something remarkable and rare, like something he hadn't seen in 200 years.

"You gave me more than a portrait," Astarion finally said. "You gave me my reflection back."

When Astarion curled a palm to fit the jut of Tav's jaw, Tav rose to cover that hand with their own as well. They brought that cupped palm down, eyes on Astarion all the while when they met pale skin with chapped lips - something Astarion would no doubt harass them about later. But for now, Astarion merely melted beneath the attention.

"I promised you a cure," Tav said, lips brushing Astarion's palm, "Think of this as a down payment."

Astarion let out another surprised little breath of a laugh and said, "I never doubted you, but this? This..." Then, a little smile. The echo of words shared once, twice - now thrice, each fonder than the last time it had been said. "This is a gift, you know. I will not forget it."

And he never did.

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