Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it?
I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell.
One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail.
How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?
Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.
If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)
As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.
Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off.
Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.
You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.
Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.
You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.
But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.
And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.
From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.
And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.
It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.
Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.
And so you took note but remained silent.
Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.
Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.
So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.
That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.
“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.
“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.
You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.
Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.
After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.
Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.
And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.
Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.
So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.
And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.
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