#and with astarion it’s different. she feels lighter. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spacebarbarianweird · 27 days

Note

For the parental HCs prompts:

Hide and seek with the amazing Alethaine? Vampire vs. Barbarian vs. Dhampir and

see who wins (I bet on Alethaine because she sneaky!)

Summary: Astarion plays hide-in-seek with his daughter but it doesn't go smoothly.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, dadstarion

Alethaine's age: 6-year-old

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Dadstarion prompts

“Now my turn to hide!” Alethaine squeals as she waves to Astarion from the ground.

Astarion chuckles and jumps from the branch. There is no point in hiding from Alethaine – as a dhampir, she just knows where he is.

Sometimes Astarion thinks it’s a blessing – his daughter will always be able to find him, no matter what. But then he remembers the 7000 spawns released in the Underdark. How many of them have already conceived children? Pale half-vampires, born one foot in their parents’ graves?

And how many of them have decided to hunt vampires?

Will Astarion ever be safe, after all? Or will his mercy towards his victims be the end of him?

“But I will hide very very well, much better than you!” the six-year-old elf’s ears twitch in anticipation.

It’s a dark night, way past midnight and the dark woods of the Unicorn Run are as unsettling to mortals as possible.

But Astarion and his daughter aren’t mortals; thus, the woods have become their playground. Here, in the dark of the night, Astarion can forget about his vampirism and his limitations in the daylight. Here and now, he is the father of this little girl and he plays hide-and-seek with her.

What can be more normal?

“Alethaine, don’t run too far away, '' he tells her strictly.

She nods and grins. Another weird quirk of the little dhampir. Astarion can’t catch her scent, so he tracks her the same way he does with Tiriel. Her heartbeat is so quiet he can’t hear it. She is invisible to him the same way she would have been if they were mortal elves.

“Count to… twenty!” She tells him and once Astarion turns away she disappears in the woods.

Astarion tries to hear her footsteps but they soon fade away. He stops counting and slowly moves forward.

There is something natural about this game. Something that appeals to his predatory side. Astarion makes no sounds looking for the hiding girl.

Thanks to the dark vision he sees perfectly – and he also catches heartbeats and breathings of different night animals that hide in fear sensing the presence of the undead.

Alethaine is nowhere to be seen or heard.

Astarion feels the wave of panic but suppresses it. She just hid somewhere in the bushes or in the leaves. Soon when he fails to find her she will run to him laughing and mocking him for “failing such a simple task”.

But it doesn’t happen.

“Alethaine!” he calls her out. “Alethaine, are you all right?”

No answer. His daughter has just disappeared.

Old habits that refuse to die heighten his new fears. He lost his daughter. Something bad has happened to her. What is he going to tell Tiriel? What if Alethaine is wounded? What if someone kidnapped her?

What if she’s fallen down on the rocks and died?

“Alethaine!” Now his voice trembles and he feels his body freeze.

Mistakes mean punishment. Punishment means pain. Even now when there is no one to torture him, his mind can perfectly do it.

Astarion calls for Alethaine and searches her across the area, but she is just gone as if taken by a fey. Maybe she has been? There are so many dark creatures who love to mess up with little kids. Well, whoever and whatever did this must know that Astarion is very good at breaking contracts and beating the shit out of powerful bastards who deceive and manipulate.

Another wave of fear makes his skin itch.

The sunrise.

He looks to the east and sees that the skies are turning lighter and the stars start disappearing.

“Fuck!” Astarion’s voice is already hoarse. “ALETHAINE!”

He needs to come back to the town. Run to their home that was built in the underground part of Daggerlake and tell Tiriel what has happened. He is embarrassed, he hasn’t felt so much guilt since…. forever.

He had one job – to take care of their daughter. And he failed. He’s lost his child in the woods.

Of course, he couldn’t be trusted. Who the fuck would think he could be a good father?

Astarion rushes home driven by a terror only the undead know. The fear of burning.

“Astarion!” Tiriel who’s spent the whole night in the tavern in the upper-town and probably has just come back stares at him anxiously. “Where… Where is Alethaine?!”

“I am so sorry… She… just…disappeared…” Astarion sits on the porch and grabs a fistful of his hair. “It was sunset… I couldn’t… stay…”

Tiriel casts a glance at him and he subconsciously expects anger but sees nothing but motherly fear.

“It’s all right… I am going to look for her. She has probably just hidden somewhere”

“What if something bad happened to her? I will never forgive myself!” Astarion sniffs.

Tiriel, still dizzy after the merry night, takes her two-handed ax. “I will find her. Don’t worry. How far were you from the tunnel?”

“Maybe half a mile. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have taken her to the woods”

“Don’t be stupid, love. You can’t be outside the lower town in the daylight. When else are you supposed to play and walk with her?” she kisses his cheek.

Astarion nods but he knows Tiriel is scared to death, she just never shows it up when he is afraid too. And he is sorry for that, too.

Alethaine has cried her eyes out.

At first, it sounded like a good idea to hide a bit further in the woods. Her dad is a vampire and he can find her! But then she saw a weird-looking butterfly and followed it, enchanted by its blue wings.

And the dhampir got lost.

She started calling for Dad, but he couldn't hear her and she had no idea how far she wandered. Then, Alethaine decided that maybe Dad returned home and she needed to do it too but the narrow pathways of the dark woods took Alethaine even further.

She has never felt so lonely and scared in her life.

Alethaine cried hoping her dad would hear her, but no one came. Now, she is sitting on a small boulder in the center of the clearance and the sun is showering the woods in its light.

Alethaine is hungry.

And tired.

It’s way past noon, the last time she ate was when she left home with dad – mother told them she would go to drink some ale in the tavern.

The dhampir sniffs.

She wants home. She wants to eat. She wants to sleep. She wants her parents. Her stuffed toys.

Alethaine starts crying again.

“Alethaine!” She hears her mother’s voice from a distance.

“Mum! Mum!” Alethaine jumps on her feet. Her dhampir hearing immediately identifies where Tiriel is, and the girl rushes there.

The red-headed woman lifts her up and hugs her. Alethaine wails and presses her little face to her mother’s shoulder.

“Where have you been?!” Tiriel pulls Alethaine away and starts looking at her arms and legs trying to see if she is wounded. “Dad told you not to wander too far, how come you’ve disappeared?”

She sniffs.

“I wanted… I wanted… To hide better… And then… there was a butterfly…”

Tiriel squeezes her lips and Alethaine senses how her mother’s fear is being replaced by anger.

It's not easy to make Tiriel angry, but Alethaine, like any child, managed to do that.

“Your father is scared to death. I was scared to death. What if someone took you?”

Within the next half an hour Alethaine hears all the possible stories about children who were taken by feys, and hags, eaten by wolves, kidnapped by giants, frozen to death, drowned in rivers, and died of open wounds. Every story feels like a slap and, even though none of her parents have ever gotten physical on her, Alethaine suspects being spanked wouldn’t be that scary in comparison to the horrors her mother tells in the barbarian voice she uses against her enemies.

“Let’s go home” Tiriel lifts Alethaine up again. “No sweets till the end of the week. And you aren’t going to play outside until you learn how to follow the rules.”

“But mum!”

“You heard me, Alethaine.”

Alethaine places her cheek on her mother’s shoulders. The fear is taking its grip on the dhampir’s half-dead heart and she just wants to hide under the blanket at home.

Astarion tries to occupy his mind with something at least. Worrying won’t do him any good. He needs to wait till Tiriel is back and, gods, he hopes Alethaine has just got lost. And that nothing bad has happened.

It’s been too long.

Tiriel left at the early summer sunrise. And now it’s almost evening.

Astarion takes one of his books out. It’s a collection of short stories for kids he found in a dungeon a year ago, but, once he opened it for the first time he realized it’s actually a guide on how to join the thief guild written in Thieves Cant. It’s been years since he practiced the language for the last time and it feels like a good mind exercise.

And then he hears the familiar scent.

Tiriel is coming back.

Astarion can’t understand if she carries Alethaine or not, and he’s afraid his wife is coming back alone.

He rushes outside and sees Tiriel coming back with Alethaine in her arms. The fear lets him go and he runs to them to truly make sure she is fine.

“Where did you… Gods…” he gasps, taking Aletaine from her hands. The girl's face is puffy because of how long she’s cried.

“She ran away. And got lost.”

“I told her not to…” Astarion presses Alethaine to his chest as if fearing she would disappear.

“Well, I suppose she’s learned her lesson. And will learn it even better,” Tiriel repeats what punishment Alethains is going to receive.

Astarion places sleepy Alethaine on a bench and helps her to undress. It's obvious the girl needs to bathe and eat, but she is barely conscious so he decides to bring her night dress and let her do the rest once she wakes up.

The word “punishment” ties a knot in his stomach.

“Tiriel, she almost died! I think it’s enough punishment,” he says once Alethaine is put to bed. The girl hugs a plushie dragon and immediately falls asleep.

“It's not enough, '' Tiriel says, closing the door. “Astarion, please, I know what it reminds you of. Punishment, disobedience. Running away. Your master twisted the idea of a family making you call him his father and other spawns your siblings. But there is nothing internally bad about punishing a child for breaking rules.”

“She almost died!” Astarion insists. “She is scared.”

Tiriel shakes her head.

“Alethaine is much stronger than me. She can already take my ax! She is stronger than you and, soon, she will understand it. And if she decides to run away in the daylight you won't be able to stop her. Imagine her hooking up with someone older than her, who can manipulate her? Alethaine will just go not knowing what dangers lie ahead! And we won’t be able to do anything! We need to punish her for what she did. Because what she did could have killed her. Actions have consequences and we both have to be on board with that. You can’t be “the good parent” in this scenario. Because if you spoil her rotten and I try to impose rules, she will just do whatever she wants.”

Astarion clenches his fists. Rules. Disobedience.

And now one more terrible similarity.

Many of his victims, the ones who weren’t just lonely travelers or drunkards, were those careless young people, girls and boys, who, for some reason, thought nothing would happen if they got wasted with a handsome stranger in a shady tavern. Or someone would save them from vampires if they fucked up.

Kids who knew no dangers were coddled by their parents from this dangerous world and were killed for that.

“I agree. She needs to learn,” Astarion finally says.

It doesn’t go smoothly. Alethaine, probably being sure that it was all just words, asks for gingerbread after dinner and starts crying after a rejection.

“No sweets,” Tiriel reminds her.

Alethaine looks at Astarion with her puppy eyes but he shakes his head showing that there can’t be any disagreement between him and Tiriel.

Then, they don’t let her go to play with the neighbor’s kids who come to pick her up on their way to the river which causes another meltdown that stops the moment Alethaine realizes her cries aren’t working.

Unluckily for her, both her parents can withstand much worse things than the meltdown of a six-year-old.

The young man in a rich red doublet looks anxious. All his arrogance and pride have disappeared the moment he realizes people call Astarion a vampire for a reason.

“Will you… Will you do what I ask?” he cocks his head. The heir of one of the local jarls, the boy has gotten used to getting what he wants. And now he is bound by a pact with a hag who will turn him into a gnoll if he fails to deliver her his bride, and he needs to ask a vampire for help.

“One hundred and fifty gold. And you pay the half right now. I will come to your father for the rest once we’ve done” Astarion plays with his dagger trying to look as distraught as possible.

“That’s insane! Eighty gold!”

“I have a family to feed, boy. '' Astarion chuckles. “Besides, you were dumb enough to make a pact with the hag. What did you want? Money? Power? More lands? Didn’t your parents teach you not to meddle with things you can't understand?”

The young man huffs. Then he notices Tiriel, who watches the whole conversation in silence – and cringes at the sight of a fresh bite mark she hasn’t hidden.

Astarion suppresses the desire to beat the guest.

“I was dying in the swamps… She… It…”

“Offered you salvation because you told her you would do anything?” Tiriel finishes the sentence.

“I can hire an adventure party to slay the hag! I thought you were going to help me with the contract but you aren't the only one who does this kind of work!”

Tiriel laughs. “There will be at least six adventurers and each of them will demand a fair share. And if they make it out alive, there will be one with good intimidation and persuasion skills - and you will end up paying much more. Oh, and there is a big chance they will make a deal with the hag and will bring you to her because hags usually have more things to offer.”

“They… They won't!”

“I've been an adventurer since I was fifteen. Trust me, I know my kind. I would have made a pact with the hag.”

“To be fair,” Astarion adds. “You murdered the hag.”

“Wyll dealt the final blow. And I was staying in the corner of her lair contemplating what choices led me to have a tadpole in my brain, a vampire in my bed, and ‘killing the devil’ in my to-do list.”

“The devil you’d made a pact with, which I told you not to do,” Astarion reminds her.

“Hm, it ended up well, didn’t it? I was also advised against giving you blood and meddling with your master. I did both,” Tiriel presses the young man’s shoulder causing him to yelp in pain. “Astarion is your best choice. You don’t need a monster hunter. You need a magistrate.”

The young man looks absolutely defeated and then calls his bodyguard, a half-orc woman who puts a few small sacks of gold on the table.

“Don’t involve my father in this, once you’ve done, come to me and I’ll pay the rest”

“No,” Astarion bares his fangs. “We go together. And you follow my every order”

Tiriel takes the money and leaves the room to store the gold in the basement of their house.

Suddenly, the guest looks up at the ceiling and mutters something incomprehensible. Astarion follows his sight and sees Alethaine standing right above the table upside down. She wears her black dress and her long hair is braided.

“Is she a vampire?” The bodyguard asks.

“Dhampir. This is my daughter, Alethaine. Princess, don’t scare my clients. Come down and say ‘hello’.”

Alethaine does not react. She just sits on the ceiling and observes the visitors. Astarion shrugs.

“Not very talkative today,” Astarion continues. “We go at sunset through the underground tunnels. Don’t worry, I won’t drag you to the Underdark. Unless you really piss me off. Wait for me in the tavern. Now go, I need to prepare for the road.” Astarion bares his fangs again, enjoying the fear on the guests’ faces.

Alethaine jumps from the ceiling once the strangers leave.

“I don’t like them,” she says.

“I don’t either. Did you want anything?”

“Daddy, are you going to be away for long?”

“Maybe a month. Don’t worry, I will be home before the winter starts”

Alethaine frowns.

“I am sorry. For running away. I won’t do this again. Can we play in the woods when you are back?”

Astarion studies his daughter’s face. There is an honest guilt in her pitch-black eyes.

“Apologies accepted. Come here.”

Alethaine wraps her pale hands around his neck and he enjoys the sound of her heartbeat for a few moments.

“Can I go out with my friends while you are away?”

“Yes. But only in the town.”

It takes Astarion an hour to get ready for the trip into the wild. He knows Tiriel wants to go with him, but they’ve agreed not to leave Alethaine on her own while she is so small.

“When you are back, I will give you a very good rest, if you know what I mean,” Tiriel playfully smiles and kisses him goodbye.

Such a normal thing, he thinks.

A father is going to do some work in the wild.

His little family will be waiting for him.

Such a normal thing and so precious to him.

Tag list

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@not-so-lost-after-all

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bloodsuckingfiends · 1 day

Text

Of Stars & Blood - Chapter 4

Summary: Astarion avoids Elendil for the time being... until Elendil insists upon having a much needed talk.

Pairing: Astarion x Elendil (named Tav)

Warning: angst, fluff

Word count: 1.2k

Series masterlist

AO3

The following day, Astarion had decided to stay at camp, while Lae’zel, Wyll, Shadowheart, and Elendil went out for the day to grab various supplies. He barely left his tent, save for leaving to bathe before the others returned. As he makes his way back to camp, Astarion catches sight of Elendil, whose armor is covered in blood and viscera, while she trudges back towards her tent with her pack. The supply run went well, he takes it, judging by how said pack is absolutely overflowing with various things. When she ducks inside her tent, the flap dropping closed behind her, Astarion quickly changes from a leisurely pace, to a more brisk one. It’s not that he didn’t want to see Elendil… well that’s actually exactly what he wanted. To continue avoiding her, at all costs. He couldn’t risk the inevitable talk that she would initiate if they crossed paths too closely. As it was, Astarion was unsure what to make of everything. He couldn’t decipher the feelings that he had being around Elendil, and he didn’t know how to process that being in her presence felt familiar. It felt right to be around her, and it had been so long since he had any glimpse, let alone tangible grasp, on any piece of his life before Cazador. No matter how much the elf wracked his brain at night, attempting to stir up any memories of the woman he somehow feels he knows, he cannot come up with any answers as to why that feeling resides within him. It was borderline maddening at this point, not knowing.

The rest of the evening was spent in his tent, propped up against his pillows, a book in one hand, a glass of wine in the other. Said book and wine, had been snatched by his nimble hands the last time that he had been out, looting. Having been deprived of such luxuries for 200 years, he had been enjoying such things with his newfound freedom. Reading by the light of a candle had become one of his favorite ways to treat himself. Just as he took a sip of his red wine, his ears perked up at the sound of footsteps, Elendil’s footsteps to be precise, just outside his tent. It was as if she was pacing. The sound irritated his sensitive ears more than anything, and before she could make her presence known purposefully, Astarion spoke up, “Can I assist you with something?” The snip in his tone did not go unnoticed by Elendil.

He could hear her exhale, “Could we talk? Just for a moment?” Her voice wavered as if she were nervous. Just as nervous as that question made Astarion.

He leaned forwards and opened the tent flap, to which Elendil took as an invitation and ducked inside.

“Please, do make yourself at home.” Astarion quipped and gestures vaguely toward the rest of his tent, while placing his book, facedown off to his side. Elendil sat before him, legs folded beneath her to the side. Her hands fidgeted in her lap as she gathered what she wanted to say.

“Astar-”

“Tav-”

They began speaking at the same time, Elendil looking up at him at the sound of her childhood name.

“Go on.” Astarion encouraged, his voice taking on a lighter tone now that he met her gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

He began to try interrupting her, the last thing that he wanted was pity, but he stopped the moment she held up a hand to silence him.

“I am sorry for saying that I know you, the other night. I know that things are different now, that things have changed and we don’t really know each other.” Elendil’s voice cracks as she continues.

“But I did know you Sta- Astarion,” she corrects her slip up and tries to look at him, but ultimately finds that his gaze is trained on her fidgeting hands. “but I don’t think the man that I knew is too far gone from the one I am sitting before now. Even if he is gone, I want to know you now.” Elendil takes a breath, as tears begin to stream down her cheeks.

“I have gone 200 years, thinking that you were dead, but I realize now, that the pain that I have felt, is nothing compared to whatever it is that has happened to you and please, I am not asking you to tell me what happened. But I am telling you that I am here, and I am not going anywhere if you don’t wish me to.”

Astarion finally makes eye contact with her, his own eyes welling up but not spilling over. His jaw clenches for a moment before he speaks, “I must say that I am very lost in all of this. There’s very few memories that I have from my life prior to my death, well, undeath.” He nervously fiddles with the seam of his trousers, not used to expressing his feelings in such a way.

“But something nags at my mind, telling me that you are a safe person. That I don’t have to be frightened around you, but it’s been 200 years of not being able to trust anyone, or anything.” Astarion can see Elendil’s hand reach out in his peripheral, and he gently takes it in his own, accepting the small comfort.

“The scars you saw on my back are a gift from Cazador, the man who found me on the brink of death and turned me into one of his spawn. I had to dig and crawl my way through my own grave, only to be taken in by him and tortured and used sexually for two centuries.” Elendil’s thumb gently rubs over his knuckles soothingly.

“He carved those marks into my back over the course of a night, and made many revisions along the way.” As Astarion finishes telling Elendil of where he has been, she chokes back a sob, her hand covering her mouth as she looks at her Star. Her Star who’s been tortured and abused for two centuries.

Her chest aches as she looks at him. He looks so defeated, and Elendil’s brain can barely comprehend why anyone would have wanted to hurt him in such a brutal, unforgiving way.

Sure, he had been a magistrate, and had made some less than savory choices whilst in that role, but torture? Of this magnitude?

“I’m so sor-”

“Don’t.” Astarion’s words cut, “Don’t give me pity. It’s the last thing I need.” Tears freely flow from his eyes, his teeth gritted.

Elendil shakes her head, “I don’t pity you. I could never pity you. I wish I knew. I wish I could have done something to help you.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. He’s too powerful. You would have been turned into one of his puppets, the moment he set eyes on you.”

As the two continued to talk, Elendil’s eyelids grew heavy, the day taking its toll on her.

“I’m glad we had this talk.” She said honestly, “We have a big day ahead of us, getting to the shadowlands and all. I better head in for the night.” She began to stand, when Astarion grabbed her wrist, his eyes wide.

“Please, stay.”

“Are you sure?”

He spoke almost too quick, “Yes.” Then elaborated, “When I talk or think about him too much in a day, it’s almost guaranteed that I don’t get rest.” He didn’t know why he felt so comfortable telling her this, what he felt, secret.

Elendil smiled at him softly, “Okay.”

The two readjusted to a suitable position for rest, and in the morning, found that they had found comfort in each other’s arms through the hours of the night.

Taglist: @lynnlovesthestars @thexhostess

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girlwiththepapatattoo · 3 months

Text

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 20

Warnings: Astarion being himself

Summary: The group finds safety in the dark.

Notes: Eyyyy, it hasn't been two months! lmao I hope you all enjoy! <3

Also, not that I get a lot of engagement on tumblr, but if anyone wants to be tagged when I update, just let me know.

Read on Ao3 here!

Previous Chapter | First Chapter

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“That…is the last time I ever want to fight birds, undead or not,” Astarion grouses, brushing at his armor. “Feathers, everywhere!”

Sable gives a very faint smile as they approach a crossroads. Low, crumbling stone walls line the way down several different roads, but Lassandra makes for a bridge that stretches over a small branch of the Chionthar River. They approach, and watch as the Harper walks right through what looks like a shifting, glowing wall of light.

Sable pauses before it, examining it curiously.

“This must be how they’re shielding this place,” Halsin says, approaching the wall on the right hand side.

“The question is, how are they producing such magic?” Gale replies, on the left. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the light.

“Does it matter?” Karlach asks, looking over her shoulder. “Let’s go already, I hate it out here.”

Sable nods in agreement and steps through the curtain.

Immediately, the air feels lighter on the other side. The landscape hasn’t changed much, unfortunately, it’s still dead and twisted, but the shift in the atmosphere is a welcome one. It’s much less oppressive, there’s no feeling of being watched…at least, from things they can’t see. Several guards are watching them walk across the bridge warily, their hands on their weapons. More than one raise crossbows in their direction.

“You all! Keep your hands off your weapons,” a Harper woman calls. “Who are you?”

“Easy, Elifer,” Lassandra says, stepping in front of Sable and their group. “These people helped save our group out there. They’re here at our invitation.”

“You overstep, Lassandra,” the woman, Elifer, says with a frown. “You know that she is the one who decides who stays.”

“Well, she certainly sounds important, whoever she is,” Astarion murmurs. Sable resists the urge to elbow him. And also laugh.

“Come,” the Harper guard says, side-eyeing the vampire, “she’ll want to meet you.”

Casting a look around at her comrades, Sable starts to follow Elifer towards a large, empty fountain in the middle of the inn’s courtyard. They approach a woman whose back is turned to them as she speaks with another Harper.

And when Sable sees this woman, even from the back, she stops dead, her eyes widening.

“Jaheira!”

The leader of the Harpers turns around at the new voice calling her name, just in time to catch Sable, who’s thrown herself into her arms. “What-?!” Jaheira’s eyes widen in shock. “Sable! Sable, what are you doing here and not in Baldur’s Gate?!”

“T-The…the attack by the mind-flayers,” Sable all but sobs into the elder druid’s neck. “I-I got caught, Jaheira, and they…they…!”

Jaheira curses under her breath and wraps her arms tightly around the young elf. “Come now, little one. I know your road must have been long and painful, but now is not the time for tears,” she murmurs gently.

“She’s right, kitten,” Astarion says softly, stepping over and rubbing her back. “I promise, you can cry all you need later tonight, but-”

“Who are you to interrupt?” Jaheira snaps, glaring. “A vampire. What’s more, an infected vampire. Let me guess, you’re one of Szarr’s ilk, aren’t you?”

Astarion bristles, glaring outright at her. “Not anymore,” he all but hisses. “He will never control me again!”

“Perhaps not, but that tadpole in your brain will,” she retorts, and steps in front of Sable protectively. One of her hands glows green, and roots and vines suddenly grow knee-high up Astarion’s legs, trapping him where he stands. “I do not know how you all have kept your minds, but I cannot gamble on how long that will remain the case.”

“Jaheira, if I may.” Halsin steps forward, his hands up in a gesture of peace. “I am Halsin, recently Archdruid of the Emerald Grove. I am not infected, and I vouch for all of them.”

Jaheira studies him for a long moment. “Halsin. I remember hearing your name after the battle, all those years ago. We did not meet, but I have learned of your heroism, and your talent for healing.”

He smiles faintly. “You honor me. In truth, I only wish I could have done more, back then. It’s one of the reasons I am here now: to finally put an end to this curse. The other reason, of course, is helping these people to get rid of their parasite.”

“Wait!” A young voice calls out from across the courtyard. “Don’t hurt them! These are the ones who saved us back in the Grove!” Mol runs up, looking between Astarion, Halsin, and Jaheira. “Her, especially!” She points to Sable. “She saved two of my friends, one from some harpies, and another from a mad druid with a snake! I’d pretty much trust her with my life!”

Jaheira looks at Astarion sharply. “And this one. He helped?”

“Sure did! Well, against the harpies, anyway. Sable did the talkin’ with Kagha.”

“Of course she did,” Astarion says with a shocking amount of patience for him. “She leads us, so she does the talking, negotiating, that sort of thing. It’s worked out well, so far.” He smiles as Sable looks at him, wiping at her tears. “My kitten can put anyone at ease.”

“...Your tone is awfully familiar, vampire,” Jaheira says, her voice low, dangerous.

“It should be, considering we’re lovers,” the vampire replies with a smirk.

In the back, Wyll and Gale both smack their hands to their faces at the same time.

Jaheira tenses and opens her mouth, but Sable puts her hand on the older druid’s arm. “It’s all right,” she says softly, seriously. “I trust him. He hasn’t hurt me, and I know he won’t.”

Astarion’s breath catches in his throat. Sable smiles to him, soft and warm and something aches in his chest but it’s a good ache. He’s still getting used to the thought of good aches.

Jaheira sighs, but lowers her hand. The glow of nature magic fades, and the roots and vines retract, leaving the pale elf free once more. He immediately walks over to Sable and pulls her into his arms, laying his cheek on her hair.

Halsin gives a fond look at the scene, then clears his throat, drawing the other woman’s attention.”I believe we have much to discuss. I assume we have leave to stay for a time?”

She nods curtly. “For now, yes. But know this: if any of them start to turn, I will not hesitate to put them down.”

“Good,” Lae’zel replies in approval.

Jaheira glances at her in surprise, before she gives the gith a nod and looks back to Halsin. “Well. You are right, there is much to talk about. Get yourselves settled, and then…join me for a drink.” She turns and strides back to the Inn.

Astarion wants to ask Sable how she’s doing, but he doesn’t get the chance. Karlach all but trips up next to them, her eyes wide. “Soldier, you know Jaheira?! The Jaheira?!”

“I do not see what is so exciting about one woman,” Lae’zel says to the star-struck tiefling.

“Or why it’s so impressive that Sable knows her,” Shadowheart adds, crossing her arms.

“Jaheira is an absolute legend!” Karlach says earnestly. “Years ago-over a century now-she was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Sarevok, a Bhaalspawn trying to drag the city into a war.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” Astarion muses. “Chaos gripped the city. You could barely turn the corner without finding a corpse. Fun times.”

“My mum used to tell us stories about them,” Karlach continues, “the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Tough. Adamant.”

“Not was,” Sable murmurs. “She still is.”

“And you know her! Come on, tell me how!” Karlach begs.

“Perhaps now is not the time, my fiery friend,” Gale says softly, almost putting a hand on Karlach’s shoulder before pulling away. “Sable seems like she needs a moment. Besides…” He points off towards a building across the courtyard, where they hear the unmistakable clang clang of a hammer hitting metal.

“Holy shit! DAMMON!” Karlach cries, and all but sprints toward the smith.

“Thank you, Gale,” Sable says to the wizard, who smiles to her softly.

“Not a problem. Come on, everyone, let’s go get rooms! I for one am going to relish having a proper bed!”

“Chk, you are too soft, wizard,” Lae’zel says, but follows the man into the building. Shadowheart follows. Wyll heads after Karlach, wanting to know if he could help.

Halsin pauses, looking at his fellow druid. “Will you be all right, Sable?” he asks softly. “I can stay, if you need me.”

“I have her, big man,” Astarion replies, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“I know you do,” Halsin soothes. “But…well. If she needs anything, just call. I’ll come running.” He picks up his pack and heads into the inn.

“Honestly. As if I don’t know what you need,” he grumbles. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, then bends and scoops her into his arms. “Come on, my kitten. We’ll go find a moment of peace and quiet.”

“Thank you. I can walk, you don’t have to carry me,” she mumbles to his chest.

“I’m aware,” he replies, not making any movement to put her down. “But I have you. Besides, I won’t always offer something this, ugh, nice. So take advantage while you can.”

Her lips twitch faintly, before she presses a kiss to the bit of his collarbone that shows through his armor. “I never want to take advantage of you.”

That beautiful ache thumps in his chest again, and he huffs, but his crimson eyes are so warm. “You know what I meant.”

She can’t help but smile. “I do, yes. Thank you, Astarion.” Her eyes close, and she relaxes into his arms.

He finds a quiet corner of the camp, settling down onto a rock near the river, his kitten cradled on his lap. Everything is quiet, save for the gentle burbling of the passing current and the distant murmurs of conversing Harpers. He sits there with his lover, shielding her from anyone wanting to ask questions, letting her regroup.

He wishes, idly, that this was the end of the road, that he and his kitten had no more danger ahead of them.

He sighs softly. If wishes were dragons…

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #my writing

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mightymizora · 7 months

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Fic update: Breath and Rosewater

The night has a heavy heat, a pressing humidity rising from the water, but it is to be a party, and she has made that clear to all of them. They will have one last night with the Tieflings before they leave the grove and venture out alone.

She has even dressed for it, as silly as that is, but she wants to feel different, lighter . She has shrugged off her heavy jacket, her well-stitched shirt, and is instead in her simple, well-tailored trousers and a light soft undershirt that covers her enough not to be too indecent. She has pushed back her hair with a splash of clean water, and placed a new pair of gems in her ears. The Zhent had seen her coming, muttering something about her kind not being able to resist something that sparkled, but she wanted them and the fizz of joy she feels as she places them in her ears at Astarion’s mirror is simple and uncomplicated. Cabochon rubies deep as blood, hanging from drops of finely turned gold.

“Tarting yourself up for a good night, darling? Oh, but you look adorable . Like a puppy in a ribbon.”

“You’re in a fine mood tonight, I see.”

“I just feel like the goblins would have thrown a better party. It’s a shame, you seemed such good friends with them.”

“I seem to recall you thinking they were quite expendable at the time. Some light snacks, some target practice.”

“Well, set me to it, and I’ll find my fun.”

Read on Ao3

#bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #glimmergris

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nexxen24 · 1 month

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The Sunwalker's Respite

BG3 FANFIC

Spawn Astarion X Female Tav

Chapter 2/6-8

Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/nexxen24/746439650196013056/the-sunwalkers-respite?source=share

NOTE: Pg-13, there will be no smut, only implied.

IMPORTANT: Please read the prologue and chapter one on my profile prior to this one as to not be confused, thank you.

Chapter Two

Cazador's Mansion, Baldur's Gate, 6 Months After the Absolute’s Demise

I awoke with a slight start and it got even worse when I realised that Astarion didn't have his arm wrapped around me and he was standing in direct sunlight. I let out a scream and ran over, pulling him back into darkness before looking him over for any spots that got burnt or affected by the sun. But he looked fine and chuckled before pulling out the small vial of elixir that was now empty, a very large grin plastered across his face. I glared and punched him in the shoulder, Astarion letting out a yelp and jumping back as I frowned at him.

“Ow!” He protested but I just frowned at him.

“That's what you get! You scared me half to death,” I shot back and he sighed before wrapping me in a hug.

“I wanted to surprise you, I'm sorry,” he muttered and kissed the top of my head. “It's just amazing, I can feel it warming my skin and not in a bad way.”

He grabbed my hand and slowly led me over to the beam of sunlight, stepping into it and grinning when he still didn't start sizzling. It had been six months since Astarion was able to walk in sunlight and I had forgotten what bright light did to his eyes. Usually they were just red, the kind of red that you'd see in wine, dark and somewhat shiny, nothing spectacular. But when the sun hit them you could see that his eyes were lighter, red like raspberries and looking so bright and sparkly against his pale skin. The light also hit his hair, shining against it and showcasing the small bits of silver within the white that I had been resisting the urge to bug him about. He couldn't see himself in mirrors so there was no need to point out the small grey hairs and besides, they looked beautiful anyways. In sunlight he looked like a completely different person and it just added to my desire to get that ring, to be able to wake up to this all the time, to see him in the light permanently.

“How are you feeling?”

“Overwhelmed.”

“The others will want to see you, they haven't since the brain,” I said and he nodded, giving me a smile.

“Can we start with Shadowheart? I need to ask her a favour,” he said and I raised a brow.

“What favour?”

“Just something that I have planned for later, at sunset and I need to guarantee that she's available.”

“Sure, her home is right near here. Shadowheart settled in the House of Grief, she's managed to change it, turn it into a house of healing and doesn't support any God, but appreciates them all with an affinity for Seluné.”

“Of course, I'm glad that she's happy.”

“Her and her girlfriend have turned it into something beautiful,” I added and smiled at the thought of Shadowheart and her newfound happiness.

When I met Shadowheart she was a devotee of Shar and stuck in a pod on the Nautiloid, begging me to rescue her. I did and brought her along, got to know her and together we discovered that her entire life was a lie. She wasn't a chosen of Shar, but was forced to live by her rules and halfway through our adventures she quit, gained her own freedom. Sure it cost her the lives of her parents after just getting them back but Shadowheart was happy, she was more carefree and eager to turn her place of torture into a place of love. She bought the House of Grief right after the brain was defeated and it took nearly three months to refurbish it into a refuge for those displaced by both the brain and the Absolute Cult’s reign of terror.

Her girlfriend, a fellow Half-High-Elf named Maisie that was one of the first refugees Shadowheart opened her doors to. They hit it off almost instantly and Maisie assists any animals while Shadowheart handles the humanoids. They make an excellent pair and the few times I've been by have been amazing and it's humbling to see how far she's come. From a devout worshipper of Shar, eager to do her bidding and willing to kill for her cause to a shy, timid woman who would put her life on the line for any creature. Much like Astarion, being wrapped up in all this gave her a chance to be free, to be happy.

I was smiling to myself at the thought of them both being happy as I reached up a hand to knock on the front door of the House of Grief. Astarion was behind me, standing directly in a sunbeam and smiling, his eyes sparkling whenever they met mine. I rolled my eyes at just how happy he looked and was about to call him out on it when the door swung open and I was greeted by Maisie.

“Hello, Maisie.”

“Hanelly, what are you doing here?” she asked and wrapped me in a tight hug, the squirrel perched on her shoulder squeaking in protest.

“I’m looking for Shadowheart, I have a development to show her,” I said and pointed at Astarion as Maisie’s eyes widened.

“Uh…Yeah…She’s this way.”

I nodded in thanks and called to Astarion before we followed Maisie inside and behind the receptionist counter where Shadowheart had discovered a small door that led to a staircase and an upper floor. There was an entire apartment above the main floor, decked out as if one of Viconia’s minions had once called it home. She and Maisie had since refurbished it and gave it their own personal touches, turning the apartment into a home they could be proud of. It was weird to see Shadowheart as someone with a home and a partner, a normal life but it was a simplistic existence that she deserved and the woman was brewing a pot of tea when we walked in.

“Hanelly, I heard you downstairs,” she greeted and wandered over before wrapping me in a hug. “I also heard you, Astarion, how are you here?”

“That’s a long story,” he assured and hesitated, unsure if he should hug her or not but Shadowheart didn’t let him debate and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him.

“I’d love to hear it and it’s amazing to see you both. Tea?”

“I’d love some,” I said and took a seat at her table as she poured me a mug. “Now, you both must be wondering why Astarion is out in the sun.”

“I was curious, assumed that he secretly went back and completed that ritual.”

“Never, never in a million years, this is better than that, much better,” Astarion muttered and took a sip of the tea, glaring at Shadowheart as he went.

“He’s right. Gale had been looking for a cure for his affliction and while he didn’t find it, he found something to help with the sunlight part of it. A ring, the Sunwalker’s Gift that was given to Evalina Szarr, Cazador’s sister, about 360 years ago, right before she went missing. The person that told us about all this is a drow named Maleera, one of the seven spawn and she gifted Astarion a twenty-four hour Sunwalker elixir so he could be here, see it one last time in case it doesn’t work out.”

Saying that felt like having a weight lifted off my shoulders since it was what both Astarion and I had been thinking since we discovered the ring was somewhere in the Underdark. There was always that chance that Evelina didn’t get kidnapped with the ring or that this Kathrac person saw it and took it, destroyed it. Maybe one of the 7000 spawn that had fled down there had the same idea and were wandering around up here, free from the power of the sun. Neither of us had been strong enough to say it out loud and I caught the look on Astarion’s face when I finally mentioned the possibility of failure.

“Speaking of, Shadowheart, could I grab you for a second?”

“Of course.”

“Just a quick second,” he assured and stood, giving my forehead a kiss before moving to another room with Shadowheart trailing behind him.

“Wonder what that’s about,” Maisie said and smiled as I shrugged.

“Could be anything, he mentioned wanting to do something later, maybe it’s about that,” I said and Maisie shrugged, grinning as they walked back in, not looking all that suspicious.

“You’re predisposed later Maisie, don’t make any plans for late this afternoon,” Astarion said and grinned as Shadowheart chuckled, my eyes narrowing at the two of them.

“Is there something I should know?”

“No, just that you also have plans for later this afternoon,” he said and grinned as I eyed him.

“Okay then…I’m going to choose to not find that statement suspicious.”

“Good. Shall we move on?”

“Uh…Yeah…I guess I’ll see you later Shadowheart,” I said and she nodded, pulling me into another tight hug before I chugged the rest of my tea and followed Astarion outside.

“So…who’s next?”

“Might as well go and visit the wizard that made all of this possible,” Astarion suggested and wrapped an arm in mine as I gave him a nod.

“You’re planning something,” I muttered as we trekked our way past a group of people arguing with a guy selling some type of potion.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know…the off to the side moment with Shadowheart and now you desperately want to visit the companion you hated for the entire time we were fighting back against the brain.”

“I just want to thank Gale for making all of this possible, is that so wrong?”

“I guess not, but I’m just curious as to what you’re planning.”

“Don’t make any plans for later this afternoon and you’ll find out,” Astarion said and grinned as we stepped into Sorcerer Sundries where Gale was standing behind the counter.

He glanced up from his book and smiled at the two of us, his eyes widening a bit when he noticed both myself and Astarion had walked in. “Oh! Did it work? Did you get the ring that quickly?”

“No, this was a gift from one of Cazador’s other spawn, we decided to take a day before looking for the ring,” Astarion explained and Gale's eyes widened.

“Wait…so that means…”

“Yes, your advice was good, we managed to find one in Cazador's palace,” I said and Gale grinned, his ego growing with every compliment.

“Oh that's great, I'm glad that I could help. I knew that you'd both find what you were looking for and hopefully the Underdark will prove useful as well. I may have some…”

Gale trailed off and I followed his dumbstruck look towards the front door where a Half-Elf had just wandered in, a crate of flowers and potions clutched in her arms. I raised a brow as she bypassed a couple people before squeezing in between Astarion and I and placing the crate on the counter. She was very pretty with pale skin and long dark brown hair that was braided, dressed in loose fitting trousers, a linen shirt covered in dirt and boots. Gale looked absolutely smitten and kept staring, his jaw still a bit lack until she finally cleared her throat and snapped him out of it.

“Uh…sorry…Good to see you Alina,” Gale greeted and she nodded in agreement.

“You as well, Gale, I have all the ingredients you asked for minus the carrow flowers since they're still blooming. But I did manage to make some extra lemon and herb tea as a gift to say sorry for missing it.”

“Oh that's perfect, you can come by when they're ready and I do love that tea.”

“I'm fully aware, most of my business comes from you ordering it,” she said and I nodded in understanding, finally getting what was being put down between the two of them.

It would only be more obvious if Gale's eyes turned into hearts as she unloaded the crate and placed jar after jar on the counter. He was smitten and was doing a very bad job of hiding the lovestruck look on his face. Gale had never been the best with social interactions in the time I'd known him and had even fumbled a few conversations we had early on. He kept claiming that the time we spent together was changing his entire outlook on life when I had barely known him a day. When I finally called Gale out he got all embarrassed and fumbled his words, something that he was doing with her as well.

“So…you grow flowers?” I observed and she turned to me.

“I mainly grow potion ingredients and since Gale took over for Sorcerer Sundries, I've never been better. He keeps me in business. Also…you must be Hanelly and Astarion, two of the people that stopped the brain along with Gale.”

“We did, yes.”

“Thank you again, it meant a lot, mainly because I live in Baldur's Gate and feared for my life.”

“Well…it was Gale who really stepped up,” I assured and chuckled when he blushed. “He got the final blow on the brain, a fireball that ended the fight and saved us. I didn't know how much longer we had before that. Gale is the reason you still have your shop for more than just his business.”

“Oh wow,” Alina exclaimed and smiled as Gale's face turned even redder. “Gale, you never mentioned that. You claimed that Hanelly and Astarion did all the heavy lifting.”

“What a crazy thing to say, a weak High-Elf like myself is nothing compared to a wizard with his talents,” Astarion added and Gale stared at him in mild shock from the compliment.

“I…well…I'm just very good at what I do…it's nothing really,” Gale muttered, fumbling over his words as his face turned so red it rivalled the colour of Karlach's skin.

“So modest, it's just one of his many incredible traits,” I added and Gale glared daggers at me.

“You know, Alina,” Astarion began and leaned closer to her, a devilish smirk on his face. “I have a little thing planned for late this afternoon and you should come. Bring Gale along with you.”

“What is it?”

“I can't say it out in the open but I can tell you that it'll be amazing and well worth your time.”

“I was going to reorganise the shop but I guess I can wait. What do you say, Gale?”

“Uh…yes…of course.”

“Great. What time?”

“Pick him up at 5, that should be more than enough time. It'll be on the balcony that overlooks the water underneath Sharesses Caress. Do you know it?”

“I do, I'll be there,” Alina said and Astarion grinned before giving her hand a kiss.

“Excellent. Don't forget Gale.”

“I could never,” she said and gave him a smile before grabbing her empty crate and heading out of the store.

Once Alina was gone, Gale took one look at us before he collapsed to the floor behind the desk. My eyes widened and I ran over to make sure he was okay, raising a brow at the lovestruck look on the guy's face.

“Uh…you good?” I asked and he nodded.

“Just perfect.”

“So…I'm assuming you like her,” I said and Gale sat up, letting out a sigh before giving me a nod.

“It's obvious isn't it?”

“No, you're very subtle, I couldn't tell,” Astraion joked and Gale sent him a glare. “Regardless, I like her, and she seems to really like you.”

“Really?”

“You only fawn over a wizard shooting fireballs at things when you really like them. Besides, she agreed to bring you with her, almost like a date,” Astarion added and Gale's cheeks flushed.

“Oh Gods…you're right. I hope she didn't see it as a date,” he muttered and stood, running a hand through his hair and suddenly looking more nervous than lovestruck.

“You'll be fine. Just be yourself,” I suggested and was quick to shove Astarion who looked eager to disagree with me.

“Really?”

“Why not? It can't hurt,” I said and he sighed with a nod.

“I guess you're right. I'll see you both later today, I need to prepare, make sure I look presentable.”

Gale grabbed a couple books off a shelf near the desk before bolting up the stairs and through the portal to his main office. I rolled my eyes, knowing that he was likely going to find some way to screw it up and hoped that Alina would find it endearing. Gale isn't the best at smooth talking anybody and had fumbled quite a few of our conversations but he was also a sweetheart. When I met Gale he was afflicted with an orb of pure magic that needed to feed on arcane energy in order to not kill him. Gale consumed quite a few boots before he got it fixed and was given an ultimatum by the Goddess he previously served. Gale was told to use his orb to kill the brain, thereby levelling an entire section of the city and also killing himself.

When it came time to meet the Absolute and end the cult for good he offered up his services, offered up his life to keep us safe. I refused and made sure that Gale knew that his life meant more to me than him proving himself to Mystra. Gale got the chance to live free, to be a teacher and fall in love with a woman like Alina and he did that by proving he was more than just a wizard who knew too much. If Alina could get past the mildly annoying exterior and ego, she would find a man eager to love again underneath and one that would do anything for the person willing enough to do the same for him.

I thought of another person who defied someone by proving they're better as Astarion and I went looking for Wyll. When I met Wyll Ravenguard, the Blade of Frontiers, he was a man on a mission to kill a devil that turned out to be Karlach. When Wyll refused, he was turned into one himself and through proving that he was better than the devil he had a pact with became more than his birthright. He became the Blade of Avernus and went from hating Karlach to being the main reason she was still alive. Astarion requested that we visit Wyll first and the man was usually down by the docks, keeping an eye on the shadier inhabitants of Baldur's Gate. He was sitting on a crate looking out at the water when we walked down a set of steps and turned when I cleared my throat.

“Hanelly!” Wyll exclaimed and ran over before wrapping me in a hug.

“Good to see you, Wyll,” I said and hugged him back since it had been a minute since I'd seen him.

After the brain was defeated, Karlach finally agreed to revisit Avernus but on one condition, that Wyll went with her. He agreed and together they both battled the remainder of the imps and devil's working for Zariel and found a cure for Karlach's condition. She and Wyll had just gotten back from a forge owned by Zariel herself and according to Karlach's letter had managed to stabilise the infernal engine she had in place of a heart. With all the freedom in the world, Karlach was now working as a barback and a bouncer at a tavern in the Lower City, not far from the docks and Wyll was still trying to figure out where he belonged. His dad offered him a job as the new Duke, a chance to change the city for the better but he hadn’t taken it and was still looking to do something for him.

“How have you been?” I asked and Wyll shrugged, catching sight of Astarion, his eyes widening.

“Wait…is that?”

“We went looking for a ring that could allow this to happen all the time, ran into a spawn and she gave him a potion. He also has something to ask I’m assuming.”

“I do yes,” Astarion said and smiled at me. “Wyll, would you like to join us at the balcony under Sharess’ Caress late this afternoon, around maybe 5:30. I can’t say why in front of her but I can say that it would mean a lot if you could join.”

“Of course, I’ll always take any excuse I can get to hang out with all of you. It’s been too long,” Wyll said and I nodded in agreement.

“It has.”

“Are we near the Hook Minder?” Astarion asked and Wyll nodded, pointing to a rickety looking building that was made partly out of a sunken ship and sitting precariously on a cliff that overlooked the water. “Perfect. I’ll be right back. Catch up.”

I raised a brow when he wandered over, kissed the top of my head and then bolted up the stairs before I could even think to wonder why he needed to visit a pub. Sure it was the pub that Karlach worked at but I was under the assumption that was our next stop and frowned in slight annoyance before taking a seat on a crate, Wyll following suit. Leaving me alone with Wyll was actually a bad thing and not because I didn’t trust him or didn’t like hanging out with him but he had asked me a very loaded question a couple months back and I had yet to give him an answer.

“So…I’m assuming you’re annoyed we’re alone,” Wyll observed and I chuckled.

“Heh..yep.”

“I still wish that you’d give me an answer, both myself and my father believe that you’re perfect for the job, why the hesitation?”

The job in question was training an entirely new group to take over the discarded Steel Watch and Flaming Fist that had both been abandoned when the cult began to take over Baldur’s Gate. The Steel Watch were giant automatons created by a real asshole named Gortash who was not only one of the main three who wanted to control the brain but also the man that sold Karlach to Zariel in the first place. His Steel Watch was corrupt from the start and we managed to destroy them before going after him, rendering his defence force useless and also losing a vital means of protection in the city. Sure keeping the brain from killing everyone placated people for quite a while but with the main threat gone they were starting to go back to their ways and that was bad, especially with little defences.

When Wyll approached me a couple months back with an idea that thanks to my background I would be the ideal Elf to train an entirely new guard that could keep this whole new Baldur’s Gate safe. I had denied the job offer initially, worrying that if I spent my days training a lot of soldiers there wouldn’t be any opportunity to be with Astarion. Having no job may sound like a bad idea but I at least got to spend every moment I could with him which made it worth it and made me so damn grateful that I hadn’t staked him in the heart all those months ago.

“It’s still a no,” I muttered and Wyll sighed. “I can’t leave him behind.”

“So…if this ring doesn’t work out…what are you going to do?”

“It’s going to work out,” I said and Wyll frowned. “Maleera, the spawn that gave him the potion, told me not to lose myself looking for it but we both know that I can’t let him go on without it, he deserves to return to the light. Cazador got what he deserved, the man is dead, but Astarion didn’t. He deserves a chance.”

There was a part of me that assumed Wyll would simply never understand, that it took a certain kind of love to want to throw everything on the line just for them to be happy. Seeing Astarion become his own person after so many years of not having the chance was my favourite part of our journey to stop the brain and the part that made it all worth it. When people you love get the chance to be happy, it makes you happy and I wiped at a tear, not even realising the thought of never getting that chance was making me emotional.

“I get it. I do,” Wyll assured and wrapped me in a side hug just as Astarion returned, Karlach trailing behind him.

I grinned broader than I had the entire day and jumped up, running over to Karlach and wrapping her in the biggest hug that I could possibly manage, grateful that I even could. With her fixed heart she was nearly cool to the touch, still fiery red but luckily not on fire and I had been itching to hug her for months. Karlach laughed and picked me up, spinning the two of us around and causing Astarion to duck to avoid a leg. She eventually dropped me back to the ground and smiled, looking more alive than she had in months and itching to do it again.

“Gods it’s good to see you!” Karlach exclaimed and I nodded in agreement before rummaging through the bag I was carrying for her gift.

“Same here and I have someone that’s been waiting to see you,” I said and pulled out a small stuffed bear that Karlach had kept with her for years and had sadly gotten a bit burnt.

“Oh my Gods! Clive!” she shouted and grabbed the bear, giving it a tight hug before admiring the stitching courtesy of Astarion and the strips of fabric he used to cover up the holes and scorch marks. “You fixed him, he looks great.”

“That was all Astarion, he’s quite the master with a sewing needle,” I said and bumped his shoulder as Karlach grinned and wandered over, wrapping him in a hug as he squeaked in protest.

“Hey now, not too tight,” Astarion said and groaned as Karlach laughed and put him down. “Gods…I’m not invincible you know.”

“Oh…you’re tougher than that,” she shot back and elbowed him in the ribs, Astarion letting out an oof and having to catch himself.

“Nope…I am not,” he choked out and I chuckled, rubbing a hand along his back to make sure he was alright. “Now…Karlach, you remember what I told you on the way here.”

“Of course, Hanelly, we have a whole day planned!” she exclaimed and I raised a brow. “We have some errands to run for a couple hours before meeting these guys at Sharess’ Caress.”

“What?”

Astarion pulled me aside as I frowned at him, now really curious as to what he was planning and what errands he could possibly want Karlach and I to run.

“Hang out with Karlach and I’ll meet you this afternoon,” he said and I eyed him.

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said and grinned as I frowned at him.

“You’re being sneakier than usual.”

“Trust me, if I ruin this, you’re gonna hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” I assured and took a step closer, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Good so go with Karlach,” he said and I frowned before letting out a sigh and giving him a kiss.

“If this is some dumb joke I will punch you,” I shot back and pulled away as he chuckled.

“Trust me. It’s not,” he said and I eyed him before heading over to Karlach and following her up the steps and back into the Lower City, my mind swirling with possibilities and my stomach alight with nerves.

***

The errands that Astarion had us run were slowly starting to reveal what all he had planned and I became even more nervous as Karlach and I stood in the empty room at the Flophouse across from Sharess’ Caress he had rented. The only real errand was a trip to the Facemaker’s boutique, a clothing shop near the entrance to the upper city where Karlach said some sort of order was waiting for me. The order just so happened to be a white dress and Figaro, the shop’s owner who normally hated me, looked very pleased when I entered looking for it. He claimed that the garment was made for me and said that it was made to my exact specifications with some additions suggested by Astarion. How or when he got my ‘exact specifications’ I had no clue but the dress was absolutely gorgeous and I was admiring myself in a mirror, practically slack jawed.

The dress was white first and foremost which was already a good indication as to what was going on later but was also so much more than that on so many levels. The top was fitted in a way that wasn’t too revealing and a thin belt made entirely of silver hugged my waist and kept it in place. The part that really made me get emotional was the detailing, mainly the red detailing in the thin ruby coloured threads that created almost a waterfall of colour, starting from the waist and ending just above the bottom of the skirt. It made the dress feel a bit less formal but added so much to a collection of fabric that was previously so stark and perfect and I definitely wasn’t perfect. It had character and the red was a clear nod to the man that ordered it and I was very pleased that he seemed to be just as good with words as he was with fabric choices.

“Karlach…I need you to answer a question,” I said and she glanced up from staring lovingly at Clive. “Is this a wedding?”

“I can’t answer that,” she said and I frowned, knowing that that confirmed it, it had to be.

My stomach immediately dropped at the thought and everything suddenly felt more real, like all this was happening too fast even though I had been thinking about it for months. Sure I knew that he was it, he was the last time I was ever going to fall in love and when an elf says that it means a lot, we live long lives but I never knew how to say it. Astarion spent so long believing that love only existed in the darkest places, that the only love he was allowed to express was fake, and was a tool used to lure people back to Cazador. When he felt real love for a drow named Sebastian, when he tried to allow himself to embrace it, he was tossed into a cell and forced to spend a year clawing at darkness to make up for it. This was the first time he had allowed himself to feel something real, be allowed to feel it and the thought that Astarion was the one that put all of this together was only making my nerves worse.

“Karlach, you’re not helping,” I chided and she chuckled.

“Come on man, it’s supposed to be a happy day, we’re all together again,” she said and I nodded, knowing she was right.

“I know…It’s just…nerve wracking.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, probably because you normally have more time to prepare.”

“If it is a wedding…what are you going to do? Would you say yes?”

“Of course,” I said and Karlach grinned.

“Well…Then there’s nothing to be nervous about, if you’re already willing to say yes and you don’t even know that’s a pretty good sign you’re ready for this.”

For the vast majority of our time together Karlach was always the muscle, mainly because she could punch anyone to death if given enough time but she’s also pretty damn well spoken. She was also right, I was ready and I let out a sigh before fixing my hair, making sure that my trademark twin braids looked perfect and let out a sigh before nodding that I was ready. It was basically time anyways and I followed Karlach out the door and down the steps, crossing the street and finding the group, including a spectral projection of Lae’zel, spread out on the balcony that overlooked the bay, arguably home to the best view in all of Wyrm’s Crossing.

Astarion was in the middle of them, laughing at something Shadowheart or Gale said as the sun that was just beginning to set caught his eyes in a way that made them shimmer. He turned and they widened when he saw me, grinning and stepping forward to assist me in walking down the handful of steps to the balcony.

“You suck you know,” I said and he frowned at me.

“Uh…Excuse me?”

“You do. You planned all of this, planned what is supposed to be the best day of my life and just assumed that keeping it a surprise was the best idea. How’d you even know I’d say yes?”

“Why did you assume that’s what this is?” he shot back and my face fell. “It could just be a gathering of old friends.”

“Uh…Well…is it?”

“It is,” he said and I was about to smack him but he stopped me. “A group of old friends that gathered for a wedding. So…Hanelly…Do you?”

I stared at Astarion for the longest moment, just to see if he was going to start laughing and say this whole thing was one big joke but he looked serious, looked so serious that it was making me almost emotional.

“Of course, I will always say yes to that,” I assured and he grinned before leading me over to the edge of the balcony.

“So…now you know why it was very important that Shadowheart was available since the main thing you need to get married is a cleric and she’s the best I know,” Astarion said and she eyed him. “Also the only one.”

“I was eager to join once he told me what he was planning,” she said and smiled at the two of us. “I also collected all the needed supplies, some harder to find than others.”

I raised a brow and Shadowheart stepped aside to reveal a small table full of various items but mainly two rings and a branch which may sound odd for a wedding but not one between two elves. A very old, very outdated Wood Elf tradition was to plant a tree whenever a child was born that was said to grow with them, signalling their life and their connection to the forest they called home. I had a tree somewhere in the forests surrounding Venia and always figured that when I ever got married I’d return, grab a branch and use it to bless the ceremony, a symbol of carrying your heritage with you as you go. When I decided never to return home I always assumed I had lost my shot at grabbing it but apparently Astarion had managed to find it.

“You found the tree,” I said, practically speechless and he nodded.

“You’d be shocked how far a locate object spell can get you.”

“Were the other two still there?” I asked, talking about the trees planted for my brother and father, my mother’s having died when she did.

“No, just this one. It was growing well though, and had red flowers on it according to Shadowheart,” he said and I smiled since the trees always tended to reflect what their person was getting up to and the flowers had to be a reference to him.

“I figured they’d be gone but mine is thriving and for good reason,” I said and he nodded in agreement before we got into position across from each other, Shadowheart standing behind us.

“Alrighty, I did have to research elf weddings so if I get anything wrong, I’m sorry,” she began and I chuckled. “Now we gather here on this balcony in the company of not only good friends, but family in order to bless and welcome the union between Astarion Ancunin and Hanelly Calista. As tradition in the laws of Wood Elves, a branch of Hanelly’s root tree has been cut to signal a new chapter, a new branch being added that when planted where this couple chooses to reside will signal a new life being built together. Hanelly…please place a hand on one end.” I did as told before Shadowheart told Astarion to do the same. “May the branches, the roots, the leaves and the flowers built from this one continue to grow and thrive for as long as the two of you do.”

The branch began to glow and I smiled before Shadowheart took it back and pulled out the rings, handing over the respective ones.

“I hope you like them, they were last minute,” Astarion whispered and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh…really…wonder who’s fault that is,” I shot back and he frowned at me.

“Astarion, please place this ring upon her finger and solidify a bond to last the test of time, through good times and bad, hope and heartache, life and death. Do you take Hanelly to be your lawfully wedded, in the eyes of Selune, wife?”

“I do,” he said and slipped the silver ring onto my finger, a small blood red stone shining up at me.

“Hanelly, please place this ring upon his finger and solidify a bond to last the test of time, through good times and bad, hope and heartache, life and death. Do you take Astarion to be your lawfully wedded, in the eyes of Selune, husband?”

“I do,” I said and slipped the simple silver band onto his finger, solidifying the bond forever.

“Well…By the power invested in me by Selune, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss.”

Astarion gently placed a hand on my cheek and leaned forward just as the sun began to set, basking the two of us in a brilliant orange glow as I closed my eyes and closed the gap. The others all began to clap as I stood there for a second, in mild shock that it was now official.

“Well then, I have a wife,” Astarion with a wide grin and I nodded in agreement.

“That you do.”

I kissed him again before we turned to the others who all looked very pleased, even Lae’zel who I was certain never liked me. I smiled and wandered over, not pulling her into a hug since she’d kill me and the astral form was preventing any real contact. Lae’zel left the group shortly after the brain was killed to get revenge on the gythyanki that still sided with their lying queen. It was likely Gale that told her about the event and I was actually quite shocked she was there since Lae’zel was never really a lovey dovey type of person.

“Shocked to see you here,” I muttered and she nodded.

“Gale sent a message about this ceremony and your plans to find the ring, I thought I’d come by and say congrats and good luck.”

“Thank you.”

“Also that it’s stupid,” she added and my smile faded. “The Underdark holds more dangers than what we saw in our small trip to it, dangers that would kill for a ring like that one. Sure I believe you're more than capable but if you die then I will be saying, ‘I told you so’ to your corpse.”

Lae’zel walked over to Wyll as I stood there a second, mind swirling with all the implications of that sentence and the fact that even though she was ultimately messing with me, she was also correct. But I couldn’t worry about the Underdark on a day like this, it was supposed to be happy and I was thrilled.

“So…Did you enjoy the surprise?” Astarion asked after handing me a glass of wine.

“I did, yes.”

“They say the wedding night is always the best part,” he said and smirked.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” I shot back and his smirk grew. “So…why here, why sunset?”

“You look the best at sunset and if this is my last one, I want it to be special,” he said and kissed me, deep before taking a sip.

I smiled at the gesture but it was hard to ignore the dread piling up at the bottom of my stomach and the fear that this was going to be his last sunset, that this was all we were ever gonna have in the sun if this failed. Sure it was incredible, I wouldn’t change that for the world and the ring shining in the last few rays was a symbol that he meant the world to me and I to him but it wasn’t enough. I don’t care if I’m being selfish, irrational but I wanted more, I wanted more sunsets, more walks along the water, more warming myself in the early morning rays, more chances to watch his eyes light up when they caught it at just the right angle. Tomorrow evening we were headed down into the Underdark with Maleera, tomorrow everything changed and it was either going to get a lot better or a lot worse.

“It won’t be your last,” I whispered as I pressed myself against him, swaying slightly to the music being played by a bard he hired.

“I hope not,” he muttered as I wrapped my arms tighter around his middle, locking my hands together and not planning on letting go anytime soon.

I had two options in that moment, either sit back and see what happens or fight my absolute hardest to guarantee this wasn’t the last sunset and as the night began to creep along the horizon, once again plunging Astarion back into darkness as he shimmered from the elixir wearing off, I made my choice. That I was either coming back from the Underdark with that ring on his finger or not coming back at all.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 #elf tav #neil newbon #romance #romantic #spawn astarion #tav #bg3fanart #baldurs gate fanfiction

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csphire · 5 months

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For the couple questions meme, 2, 5 and 17 for Tavetha/Dammon, and 3, 6, and 15 for Anna/Astarion? 👀

In my excitement, I may have gone a little overboard. Be warned @itstheelvenjedi heheh...

Tavetha/Dammon (From Sweetums and Sunshine) 2. Do they like each other's friends? Do their friends like them? I would like to think so, after an adjustment/getting to know you period most people go through.

At worst, there is a very real but still playful rivalry between Tavetha and Rolan where they try to magically outdo one another but also swap little tricks like baking recipes. Come to think of it they exchange those too. Lia, Cal, and her will also gang up on and mercilessly tease Rolan but only when he gets too full of himself. Dammon often will back one of his oldest friends up if three of them get too roundy. Tavetha’s little secret pet project when it comes to Rolan is finding him someone special. Since Lia and Cal have seemed to find their someones she’s deep down worried about Rolan feeling lonely.

As for Dammon when it comes to Tavetha’s friends, he's a little shy and unsure of how to be around Astarion and Lae’zel the most at first. The elf is so outgoing, rule-bending, and flirty, and our favorite blacksmith I see as more reserved, straight-laced, and introverted. Until Astarion learns to dial it down and Dammon realizes he needs to loosen up a little, things are polite but a touch awkward. Dammon also had zero clue how to chit-chat with Lae'zel until the subject armor and weapons were brought up. But even then their knowledge only overlaps a little as they come from two very different standpoints of user and creator. However, she doesn’t look down on him for not being a warrior and offers to give him a few pointers on how to dodge and at least avoid getting hit. She also respects his craft and provides feedback on how to improve the designs of weapons and armor from her experiences in combat of what works and what doesn’t.

When it comes to Gale, Dammon is an expert on how to chat a wizard up as his father is one and he spent most of his childhood growing up around them and other magically inclined peers. He finds Gale far more charming, and believe it or not, humble than most he’s delt with in the past.

Shadowheart, Halsin, Jaheira, Misnc, and Dammon are perhaps the most indifferent to one another but not unkindly so. Honestly, I just can't think of anything they could talk about besides the weather, swap a few stories, and debate over current events. My version of Dammon is he struggles a bit with idle conversation but he tries his best to be at least a polite listener. But if you come to him with a problem he’s great at providing thoughtful questions to help guide them to a solution.

Out of all of Tavetha's friends when it comes to Zevlor, Dammon is ever polite but it's for her sake alone. Like many tieflings from Elturel, he struggles with trusting their former leader or staying civil for long. Not after what Zevlor did and the events that unfolded in the Shadow Cursed lands. Anger will slowly build in Dammon the longer Zevlor is around. Eventually, Dammon will need to excuse himself or he will, in rare form, lose his temper and start calling out and confronting Zevlor about what he did. Perhaps it's easier for Tavetha to forgive the older tiefling because she did not witness the slaughter that resulted firsthand. But then she understands more than Dammon about what it was like to hear the Absolute's voice and fall prey to it. These realizations came to both of them after a few long, painful, but necessary talks after Zevlor paid his first few visits.

On a lighter note, I like to think Dammon and Tavetha also end up spending time with other married/coupled friends such as Bex and Danis, Wyll and Karlach as well as Alfira and Lakrissa.

5. How do they sleep?

In true dragon sorc fashion, Tavetha tends to make both a nest of and hoard the covers as well as sprawl over the entire bed. But at least she drapes over or even sleeps on top of Dammon protectively rather than pushing him out of it. That is when he's not spooned up behind her with his chin resting upon the top of her head and his every limb wrapped around her.

These two are, in Astarion’s words, “the most absolutely disgustingly clingy cuddle whores” when they sleep together. They rarely sleep apart. Both run hot, and after so many cold nights apart, as they made their way to Baldur’s Gate separately, they crave a lot of skin-to-skin contact and sharing their warmth. So sharing a small bed or snoozing together on a lounger of some sort is not a problem for them. If they drift off after sex Dammon will usually hold her very close and even stay inside her. Yes, they are that clingy. Perhaps another factor as to why this happens is during the day Dammon and Tavetha are pretty focused with their various projects. Some of it is sweaty and usually, it's Dammon who doesn't want to get Tavetha dirty. So until they both call it a day and wash up they only share a few pecks at most.

Mindful of the sharpness of his horns Dammon rarely if ever ends up falling asleep on Tavetha’s breast or stomach and the same goes with any other guest to their bed. He’s not a fan of wrapping or capping his horns at night. So he takes care to keep his head up above anyone else's. He gets a little nervous over his vestigial wing tips and clawed toes scratching her too so he’s picked up the habit of filling them down a little to blunt them and sometimes even wearing a nightshirt or socks to bed.

Is Dammon’s tail wrapped about her calf, thigh, hip, or waist? Oh yes, nearly all of the time. He doesn’t sleep well and struggles to fall asleep even if he can’t wrap his tail around some part of her. Tavetha doesn’t mind one bit. If she had a tail, she's be wrapping it around him right back. His only presents a minor challenge if she needs to sneak off to pee or raid the kitchen in the middle of the night.

17. Do they believe in marriage? Yes but… they are open to more partners to create a semi-closed polycule. They don’t sleep with strangers or do anything on a whim, it’s just not their thing. Careful consideration regarding all parties and a deep and trusting friendship must come first. Dammon and her are most of the time a package deal. They live together full-time at his forge and are the first to marry and start trying for a baby once the city is saved.

So their other partners, what’s the setup? Karlach of course Dammon and Tavetha pounced once she became touchable. She was the first they both fell in love with hard and together they helped her make up for ten very long and frustrating years. Astarion’s interest was peaked by all this but he wasn’t ready for anything more than flirting, cuddling, and kissing until a few months after his master was slain and the elder brain was destroyed. When Karlach had to go back to the hells that’s when she and Wyll grew very close and fell deeply in love.

Who all stays with them? Mostly Karlach and Wyll once her heart is all sorted out along with Astarion before that. All three of them are the more extroverted ones who work outside of the home and play a hand in helping run the city. Tavetha and Dammon are both introverted artisans who spend all day making things at home. Dammon of course is busy making his weapons and armor. Tavetha creates and enchants jewelry and even some of Dammon's finished pieces. They don’t deal with customers directly so much anymore and leave that task to Cal, Lia, or Rolan at Sorcerer's Sundries who take a small cut.

All five of them are intimate with Halsin and Shadowheart too but only on occasion as they both only visit once in a great while.

Look, it’s not as wild as one thinks. Not everyone is having sex constantly with everyone else. Some couplings happen once in a blue moon. There’s more swapping of partners, group cuddles, and only occasional threesomes or foursomes. An all-out orgy is rather rare and just sometimes happens. Once or twice a year at most and it’s never really planned.

Habits over time have emerged too on who sleeps more with whom. Karlach and Wyll tend to pair up more together. The same goes with Tavetha with Dammon. Astarion tends to split his time among the four equally. He likes sleeping in between them all if only to get extra warmed up and spoiled. He occasionally goes off to pay a visit to Sebastian or Halsin. He also has unspoken dibs to pounce Halsin first whenever he comes to the city. Shadowheart prefers just to have sex with Tavetha, Karlach, Wyll or Halsin on occasion. But honestly most of the time everyone is cuddling and kissing far more than having sex.

Gale and Lae’zel have been offered to join in however they please but both have declined so far as polyamory is not their thing and that’s okay.

(This all sorta just evolved because I can’t stand the idea of some of the characters missing out on various romance options. I love all of them and like to think in Faerûn polyamory is far less stigmatized and vilified.)

Anna/Astarion (From Rosemary, Lilacs, Lilies and Bergamot and Purples, Blues, and Gold.)

3. What's their favorite thing to tease each other about?

They don’t tease each other a great deal. They’re surprisingly gentle and reassuring with each other’s egos. Well, at least at first once they figure out each other’s limits it does pick up. They bicker like an old but still very happy married couple right from the start.

Instead of disapproving at worst, Astarion now only teases Anna for being still such a bleeding heart for every charity case they come across.

Anna tends to tease him for primping more than she does. When it comes to going anywhere it’s him that always makes them “fashionably late.”

They joke over their mutual little crushes regarding Dammon, Wyll, and Karlach. Astarion especially loves to point out Anna seems to have a strong preference for the infernally touched.

Lastly, they do imitate one another but this also kind of falls into what habits they take from one another too.

6. Do they have pet names for each other? Do they like them?

It took Anna a while to use one pet name on the regular which she secretly settled upon the moment she began to fall in love with him. She fell fast and hard for him, despite her jaded heart and his few red flags. One of her flaws is although she can charm and flirt causally as well as any warlock, deep down she doesn’t have much confidence when it comes to romance when she starts to deeply care about someone. Other more generic endearments such as my dearest, husband, my dear, sweetie, and honey all came easy. But calling him Star for some reason felt more important and deeply personal.

Similar to Astarion she’s been hurt deeply in the past, feels tainted, and unworthy of love. She can be triggered too, freeze up, and even lash out just as bitterly as he does. She can hide it most of the time and seem aloof and calm but in reality, she might be silently panicking and figuring out how to flee a situation that’s overwhelming her emotionally.

The first time she called him Star was when they were in the full throws of having sex for the first time. As she climaxed, harder than she had ever had before, she couldn’t hold back and it slipped out in a half-choked and moaning kinda way against his ear. Astarion chucked it up to just an interruption or cut off on his name and didn’t think much of it. The second time she screamed it when he took a particularly vicious strike, dropped like a stone, and blacked out. After that, she would murmur or whisper it on occasion when fast asleep or when she thought he was deep in his revelries as they cuddled together in his tent.

Astarion found her singular unique endearment for him sickeningly too adorable, lazy, and hardly original. (He also loved it dearly.) Worse a quiet desperation would grow in him if more than a few days went by without him hearing that “utterly silly nickname pff” pass her lips in some form or another. Something about the name Star lightly scratched at the barrier to his memories before he was turned. He could only guess that perhaps someone long ago used that term of endearment too. His mother? A lover? A friend? He had no idea but whenever Anna called him Star he felt like he reclaimed a small piece of home.

He made a point to at least offer a delighted soft knowing smile when she slipped and called him Star for the first time in front of the others. Even better it took her a few seconds to realize what she had done before she so deeply blushed the cutest shade of pink and clamed up. He will never forget how she offered a slow shy smile back when he drew near and she instantly relaxed when he kissed her forehead. When it dawned on her that he was not annoyed or would mock her choice the only time he now hears his full name is when she grows cross with him or is striving to be very serious.

As for Astarion’s pet names for her, we all know he calls the player character darling, dear, and my sweet. But there is one I have for just Anna that came about because I used to daydream a lot about her playing with his pewter (I’m guessing) buttons on his old coat in Early Access.

She played with them whenever they cuddle. One in particular she messed with far too much to the point it ended up wiggling loose and just popping off in her hand. She’s a touch horrified and unsure what to do as she knows he takes great pride in his appearance. With someone else, who was abusive to her in the past, this kind of thing would have also resulted in her getting screamed at or worse. So in a moment of panic, she tucks it away into her pocket. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice it’s missing until later and assumes it just fell off at one point during the day.

Since it’s the third button down on his left side he mentions he’ll just need to relocate one of the lowest ones or one from under his belt to make the loss less obvious. But he will still be missing one and she can tell it deep down bothers him a little bit more than he will ever admit. She, of course, riddled with worry and guilt, offers to repair it for him. But before she can confess to accidentally tearing it off, he assures her a missing button is hardly of consequence. They do face bigger problems after all. He insists he can repair it himself and for her to not make such a fuss over it. So she reluctantly relents and decides to keep his button safe upon a bit of cord about her neck.

After every skirmish from then on, she developed a habit of checking him over for any damage, his coat included. He in turn does the same for her. Most of his attacks are ranged and even when he needs to get closer a majority of their enemies' hits never land. To his relief, he also doesn’t lose any more buttons, and any cuts or tears to his flesh or coat he manages to patch up overnight. Sometimes they help one another with soothing wounds. But there are a few nights when he feels more peckish than usual and in abundance of caution he advises her to keep her distance.

Gradually he also notices she fiddles with his coat buttons far less after he lost the one. Even going so far as to snatch her hand back to play with something about her neck on occasion instead.

He can never make out what it is as it seems so small that at first, he thinks she is just pinching a tiny button upon her coat shirt. Or it’s some old trinket she had on her before they were abducted he assumes. His curiosity is piqued but he never presses her about it as whatever it is seems to soothe her nerves or bolster her confidence again when feeling low. She would often seek to hold it while discussing their options and next move. Perhaps it held a helpful enchantment of incredible value if she so zealously hid it away from everyone, him included. Or it’s something her patron gifted her that would keep them in touch. Whatever it was he tried not to take it personally as it was just one little thing she decided to keep only to herself.

But then one night it happened. A small glint of something slipped free from her slack fingers as she drifted off to rest. Unable to resist he takes a peek and finally, spies in the darkness what she holds so very dear to her heart.

His missing button. Incidentally, one that had also been closest to his own heart, and in that moment he realizes just how deeply she truly loves him.

As if the pet name she calls him softly now and then, after the first night they made love, had not made it abundantly clear. With a smile, he finally settles upon a new and equally unique endearment for her and rests lightly until dawn.

The moment she stirs he breaks his trance leans in and affectionately whispers, “Good morning... my dearest button.”

”Mmm wha... good morning to you too my star,” she murmurs back with a confused but happy glow to her features under his warm gaze. Her mind is a little sluggish having just woken up. It takes a few moments before what he called her sinks in and she gives a little gasp of guilt. Her hand reached and clasped his simple button tight.

He wonders what she was bracing for and realizes, "You tore it off, didn’t you?"

"I didn't mean to! And I did try to offer to sew it back on. Still, I should have given it back. I'm-"

"No, I want you to have it,” he assured her before she could apologize. None was needed. Her sentimental nature tickled him as he teased, "If only you will spare my others."

15. What habits or characteristics have they picked up from each other?

What habits did Astarion pick up from Anna? Hum…this is a tough one. Aside from now having a slightly more charitable nature, humming. Yes, she hums often as she’s too shy to sing and is better at remembering a melody over lyrics. He’s not as good at it. He’s more nasally and rougher sounding. He kinda teases her with it by coming up behind her or another and playfully humming extra horribly when he wants attention.

In a small way to show affection, Anna would often help tidy him up. Pluck some leaves out of his hair, brush off some lint upon his shoulder, and adjust something just a bit off or out of place. Of course, at first, she always asked. But once he started doing it back seeking permission first defaulted to them just plucking and grooming one another on the regular like two cooing and fussing love birds.

What ones does Anna pick up from Astarion? Some of his more dramatic mannerisms and expressions. “What in the sweet hells were you thinking!” and simply declaring, “Shit” when she knows she fucked up for starters. All and all she learns how to move more gracefully and even strut a little thanks to him.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #couple questions meme #dammon #dammon x tav #astarion x mc #polyamory #karlach #Wyll #this was fun #ty for the asks

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goddness-lunafreya · 5 months

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I came to show… My Tav's father??

Yes, that's a strange thing to say, but here's how I imagine the elven form of Rathial, father of Philrath, my Tav/OC from Baldur's Gate 3. I'm also here to compare him with our dear Half-Dragon.

Rathial, in his elf form, used to give birth to Philrath with his mother, Presphine.

Philrath, daughter of the mighty dragon Rathial with Presphine, a common High Elf.

Physics and Comparisons:

As you can see, they look very similar. But Rathial in this form has more elvish features, such as the ears, the face with more common eyes and, despite a yellow glow, he keeps his pupils rounded.

His horns were just "casualties", he wore them in his elf form almost like a crown, to remind him of his magical nature.

Another thing that's different is their faces. Philrath has dragon scales, coming from his draconic heritage, while Rathial, in his elven form of disguise, can naturally hide them.

But it's interesting to note this face painting, which makes a contour on the face similar to that of scales over a dragon's face. And the painting ends with sharp lines, almost like fangs.

Finally, I want to highlight the hair. His hair is much whiter and bluer, brighter and more magical. While Philrath's hair remains a lighter shade, as if they were more subtle lights.

A dragon and an... Elf?:

Rathial is a dragon, a powerful, relentless and magical creature. When he met Presphine, the two formed a bond… Complex. It's difficult to trace their feelings, but the Dragon knew what she wanted: a child.

In this elven form they consummated Philrath naturally. Dragons are beings that can change shape in a way that not all creatures can. Because they are magical, they can, using this ability, generate hatchlings with humanoid beings, as is the case with Philrath.

These hatchlings are the Half-Dragons, who inherit characteristics from their original races, while losing many of their aspects as well.

See more about the Half-Dragons, I used these links as a reference: DnD Wiki; Forgotten Realms Wiki; and I used the Homebrew DnD Half-Dragon race, which inspired the following mod that added this race to my game.

More on Philrath, Rathial and Icy Serenade:

You can read more about Philrath with my tag! And you can also read the fanfic about her to find out more about her, Rathial, their past and more. Icy Serenade in its own tag.

Icy Serenade - Summary:

"I don't know. I... I never imagined my scales feeling such a... sweet touch..." Philrath is a Half-dragon, daughter of a powerful White Dragon, destined to run and hide. One day, fate puts her in front of Astarion, a seductive and mysterious elf, who reveals himself to be a vampire. The two beings hide secrets and flee from a past and destiny that refuses to leave them in peace. Amid chains, scars, pain and fear, can there be anything good? Maybe it can, but to do that they will need to find themselves in the darkness. Will they have their freedom...? "Your scales and fangs... They're a gift, darling."

AO3 LINK

Thanks for reading! Reply, Reblogs and Likes are always welcome. Support the artist by following or asking. 🌙 -Goddness Lunafreya.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #philrath #bg3 oc #bg3 fanfic #fanfic #bg3 tav #tav #my tav #baldur's gate oc

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corvigae · 2 months

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You requested more Tav asks and I'm here to deliver!!

7, 9, 18, and/or 21 for either Lunarae or Page! Feel free to answer for both if you want to, honestly!! :D

Lunarae:

7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one?

Her arc would absolutely revolve around trying to get her to realize that she doesn't have to constantly help everyone around her at her own expense. I don't necessarily think that you could turn her down a darker path, but her bad end would probably be that you let her/fail to convince her not to do something stupidly self-sacrificial and it either kills her or leads to some other horrible outcome. On a good route though you could help her start to unmask and be more openly and happily her authetic self, instead of subconsciously trying to be the quieter version of herself she's been taught to act as in order to please others.

9. What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name?

Okay literally I just thought of a random pretty fantasy name that sounded loosely moon-based like a couple days before I started playing and was like "Oh that's nice, I'll keep that in mind for when I start my game." There's no reason for it to be moon-based at all, it's just vibes and aesthetic lmao. My in-universe answer though is that her mom thought that the color of her pale blue-green skin reminded her of the color of the light from a full moon.

18. Where/with whom do they feel safest?

Dumb obviously cheesy answer but with her partners, Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach. I headcanon that post-canon she uses a bunch of the money they've hoarded from indiscriminate theft/looting to build a big home for them all in the city, a place where even if they occasionally get pulled away for their own various reasons, they can always return to and find peace.

21. Describe a defining moment from their past, which makes them who they are today!

I'd say her mom blowing herself up was a pretty defining moment for her, for sure. Okay, but seriously, jokes aside, arriving home to find that she no longer had a home because her mother had destroyed it and killed herself and MANY other people due to wizard-hubris really taught her that seeking power simply for power's sake was dangerous, and further boldered her drive to use her magic for the purpose of helping others.

Page:

(under cut)

7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one?

She's a resistant Dark Urge, her character arc is already in the game /j

9. What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name?

Doyalist answer: hehe pun name funny

Watsonian answer: She actually had a different name before the nautiloid, back in the Bhaalist cult, but that's one of the things she forgot. So when she was asked her name later? She just made it up on the spot. She completely George Glass'ed it. But she ends up liking it, because it's the name associated with her new self and new life.

18. Where/with whom do they feel safest?

Once again obvious fucking answer but with Astarion. Also with Wyll; she and Wyll become best buds real fast and you can bet your ass she's ready to hunt Mizora down the second Wyll says "go." And in the Blood Moon Melody AU she also obviously feels safe with Lunarae too and is a part of that big house in the city.

21. Describe a defining moment from their past, which makes them who they are today!

She learned to love and play music from her foster family, and even after the onset of The Urge and everything that came after, she held onto it and kept playing, because her music was the one thing from her past, the one thing that was decidedly her and not Bhaal that she had, which is why it was one of the only things she did actually remember about herself upon waking up on the nautiloid.

#lunarae #page turner #my ocs #oc stuff

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mybg3notebook · 3 years

Text

Astarion and Power - Part 1

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were made up to the game version v4.1.101.4425. As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information.

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

Before talking about Power, Cazador, and other details, I would like to quickly gather what little we have about Astarion’s past.

Backstory: Mortal Astarion.

About his past we have little information, mostly given by Swen in interviews with game magazines or via his on-live demonstrations of the game early in 2020 before the release of EA. All this information is subjected to changes, of course, so we should take it with a pinch of salt.

As a mortal, Astarion was a corrupt magistrate who judged criminals he later sent to the local vampire coven of the Szarr family as food. After a while, his greed got the best of him and started to sell those criminals into slavery as well, having a double profit from this. This movement brought the fury of the Szarr family upon him.

From this short story we can infer that there was a high probability that his judgements were unfair, condemning criminals who needed a death sentence to lighter ones (this is related to his strange comment of “death is a harsh sentence” in Arabella’s scene, see the post Astarion's Standards and Manipulation) while condemning innocent ones; all with the goal of having a decent amount of living creatures to offer to the local vampire or to the slave traders.

We also know, by his own words in game, that when he was turned into a vampire, he had been the victim of an attack of thugs/Gurs (he says this information in different moments of the game, changing details. I don't know if this is on purpose to show Astarion’s manipulative nature depending on your reaction to Gandrel, or it’s a consequence of unpolished details during EA). What we know for sure is that these Gurs/thugs were angry because of a judgement he had previously made. It’s easy for us to infer, using the info above, two situations:

Astarion may have condemned some isolated Gur to an unfair trial who ended up in a slavery network, being discovered later by their Gur fellows who simply avenged them in Baldur’s Gate. This theory has been developed as a way to see fit the concept of Maiden Fel. If Gandrel dies and Astarion performs a Speak with Dead, he will reveal that Maiden Fel is the head of his tribe who asked him to return with Astarion “unblemished”. Digging for more details about who Maiden Fel is, Gandrel says she is the “reason even monsters have nightmares”. Walking on the speculation ground, there is a chance that Maiden Fel could be a nightmare Hag, since Gurs consider hags as “wise women'', and unlike the rest of the humans, they respect them a bit more than common folks.

Or the whole setting was done by Cazador, who plotted this ambush to make it look as an act of barbarism using furious Gurs (which attack could be seen as an obvious reaction since Gurs are despised everywhere due to their nomadic lifestyle and all the stigmas they carry) as a way to punish Astarion for trying to outsmart him.

Among the many conclusions that we can draw from here is that, if Astarion’s backstory is not retconned and rewritten later in the full game, we can be almost sure he was an Evil-aligned character as a mortal. We can’t say that vampirism twisted his morals; they were rather poor in the first place.

Astarion, the Vampire spawn

After the bite scene, Astarion presents himself as a vampire spawn, a creature lesser than a slave for his master, since Cazador’s commands are impossible to resist. He explicitly says that his body always reacts to Cazador’s word and for two hundred years he was tormented by him. Thanks to datamining information, we know that Cazador performed an infernal deal, and part of the contract is carved on his back.

Due to datamining information as well, we know that the first dream that Astarion experiences may not be the one related to the tadpole dreams mechanics since he dreams without having made use of the tadpole powers yet. I prefer to suppose that this dream is product of his own psychology, or even it could be an effect of Cazador’s power on him (maybe he can’t dream of anything but of his Sire, considering how possessive Cazador is)

As I said, this is not a dream of power and desire in the same way that the other companions or Tav have, and for this reason I’m inclined to say that the vampiric power of Cazador is the one making an effect instead of the tadpole (or simply Astarion’s trauma showing). This dream looks like a reminder, like a reiterative dream for Astarion about Cazador’s rule, which are:

rule 1: he will not drink from thinking creatures.

rule 2: he will obey him in all things.

rule 3: he will not leave Cazador’s side unless directed.

rule 4: he will know that he is Cazador’s proprietary.

Most options end up in the similar idea of: “Free? Lie to yourself, boy, but not to me. You are mine, forever.”

Cazador and Astarion

[Astarion has just related what Cazador made him eat] “Flies? What did you do to deserve that?”

“I existed, that was enough for him. He revelled in having power over me, because those with power can do whatever the hell they want.”

If we are going to talk about power with a character as Astarion in mind, we need to talk first about Cazador. Let’s start with the way Astarion describes him:

“The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire. They're scheming, paranoid, power hungry beasts. So why would any vampire give up control over a spawn to create a competitor? Trust me, it doesn't happen.”

“Cazador Szarr is a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. The patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power.(...) Not political power or military power. Power over people. The power to control them completely. (...) He turned me nearly two hundred years ago. I became his spawn and he became my tormentor.”

“He had me go out Baldur’s Gate to fetch him the most beautiful souls I could find. It was a fun little ritual of his—I’d bring them back and he’d ask if I wanted to dine with him. And if I said yes, he’d serve me a dead, putrid rat. Of course if I said no, he’d have me flayed. Hard to say which was worse.”

“Cazador liked to make them art, spent all night with a razor, drafting a sonnet on my back. (Puppy eyes) Apparently the more I screamed, the more mistakes he made. And the more editing was required.”

“It was a group of Gur/thugs that attacked me that night in Baldur’s Gate. I would have died had Cazador not appeared and saved me. (...) He chased them off and offered to save me. To give me eternal life. Given that my choices were “eternal life” or “bleed to death on the street”, I took him up on the offer. It was also afterwards I realised just how long “eternity” could be.”

“Cazador likes to toy with people. Let them think there was hope right until the end. Until he snatched it all away. Creatures like them don’t play games unless they know they’ll win.”

(About Raphael’s encounter) “All that 'take your time. I'll wait' nonsense? He's playing with us. It reminds me of Cazador, taunting his slaves with hope when he knew the game was rigged. "

Tav: “Would he send another Gur to capture?” / Ast: “Yes, he probably thought it was funny.”

(“We can kill him.”) “No, you don't understand. You don't know him. Just trust me when I say we need to be careful. He'll send more lackies – he has plenty of souls to command. We just have to be vigilant. Keep our wits about us. And kill any monster hunters on sight. We can probably make an exception with Wyll... Probably.”

>>So far we know that Cazador has a particular pleasure for control, especially the one related to people’s will. With the nightmare information, we know he has powers related to mind control. He has many slaves, and enjoys cruelty, humiliation, and torture. He enjoys making Astarion eat putrid animals, carving his back with an infernal contract, and playing psychologically with him. He also likes to give false hope, making his victims believe that there is hope, removing it right in front of them.

I want to highlight that this twisted way of giving hope just to offer a perverted solution to a person’s problem, and enjoying the pleasure caused by the break of the hope, can be seen in Astarion during EA: in the approval that Astarion gives to Tav when you revive Connor, and that pinch of hope in Mayrina turns into horror when she sees Undead!Connor. For Astarion this situation is “funny”. Similar can be said when he approves telling Arabella’s parents that she will be released after the end of the ritual, when she is in fact dead.

Astarion describes a bit more what power we should expect from a Lord Vampire:

Shapeshift: turning into mist.

Calling wolves to do his bidding.

Shrugging off blows.

He “could walk into our camp tonight and kill you with his bare hands.”

Astarion and Slavery

One of the characteristics that so far in EA has got my attention was how little conflict Astarion has with slavery, despite having been his former condition.

He is apathetic to slavery in the best case, or even supporting it in the worse case. Proof of this can be found in the Myconid Colony, when interacting with a duergar slave. He speaks as if it were a totally useful tool that inspires little sympathy in him, since they don't have consciousness. However, he leaves a quite open question when finally adding “Or maybe not”.

But this “maybe not” is not left to speculation, we can see what Astarion truly feels with a non-Gur human slave in another part of the game: in the Zhentarim hideout. This can be checked with Oskar, the painter slave.

You can free Oskar using persuasion with his kidnapper (Astarion keeps neutral, he doesn’t approve the freeing). Now, if you can buy Oskar by paying the gold directly or by using intimidation to lower the price, it would keep Astarion neutral until the moment of the payment is stated, which he disapproves. At first I thought it was because he was truly against slavery of thinking creatures... but it was not. It was because you are paying a lot of money (we need to remember Astarion is greedy [1] as well, he wouldn’t be a vampire if it weren't for his greed).

Once bought, if you keep Oskar as a slave, and you demand him to keep silent because "you want your slaves silent unless they are spoken to", Oskar will think it's a joke, and you, again, can use the option "I don't joke with my slaves" and then Astarion will approve. None of these options is under any tag to make them believe they are part of a preformative act to prank Oskar. And this is key... this is not a joke. They are used as your real sentiments and intentions, and Astarion approves them.

These reactions are not random, they make sense with his—until this moment unchanged or retconned—backstory, where he had no problem trafficking with criminals as vampire food and later as slaves to have higher profits. So, these two aspects remain in his vampire nature unaltered: the most important thing is always to have profits, and his relationship with slavery is absolutely fine as much as it gives benefits, it’s useful or at least, gives him some entertainment.

The tadpole

We know the tadpole has a particular effect on Astarion. Unlike the other companions, Astarion doesn’t dream of a person who represents to him both desire and power. Power? undoubtedly, but desire? It’s hard to say. The implied, vague concept that Astarion has been sexually abused by Cazador is there (because we know these dreams are about “sensual” desire as well).

It’s maybe a consequence of the vampirism and, by extension, of Cazador’s power, that makes Astarion unable to dream of anything else but his master. From the datamining information about the non-tadpole dream of Astarion, in which Cazador lists four rules, we know that the fourth one is about never stopping to be Cazador’s propriety, unable to be free, not even in dreams. Maybe Cazador’s effect also applies to Astarion’s dreams as well (but this is a mere speculation, there is no real proof of it on EA or datamining info so far).

So when Astarion awakes in the beach and sees that some rules of his vampiric nature have been changed, he gets excited about the tadpole, and unlike the rest of the companions, he doesn’t want to get rid of it. He wants to master it, to have control of it. However, when the opportunity of controlling the tadpole appears with Raphael encounter, Astarion is one of the few companions who is completely against it at first.

“Raphael is playing with us; Cazador liked to toy with people too. Let them think there was hope right until the end. Until he snatched it all away. Creatures like them don't play games unless they know they'll win.”

In that moment, he claims he won’t change a vampiric master for an infernal one. However, when the first use of the Tadpole causes the first symptoms of transformation evident, Astarion falls in despair: he is scared and, calling for Raphael to take him from the camp, he says a curious phrase:

“I would choose servitude over oblivion any day”

So, after this moment, he is not completely convinced that Raphael is the true solution to his problem but he is more open to keep him as a plan B if anything else fails. Later he claims that it doesn't matter to be a servant of a devil, because he knows Cazador, and he wants to get rid of his power for good.

“I won't lie, it's tempting. If I keep the tadpole, I risk transforming into a grotesque monster. If I lose the tadpole, Cazador has control of me, body and soul, and I return to the shadows. It's grim either way, so why not sell what's left of my soul to a devil? Better he has it than cazador. Whatever it's coming we need to have our options open.”

Astarion’s process of seeing the potential of the power of the tadpole increases along the game. It gets higher and wilder. The first instances of the tadpole use are about Astarion discovering how much this tadpole gives him powers he can barely understand.

“The tadpoles are not so bad at all. (...) First I can walk in the sun, then make people dance like puppets? *laughs * I've certainly had worse days.”

He is not an idiot, he knows that, without control, they will end up turning into mind flayers, so he needs to find something powerful that can give him control over his tadpole. This is the reason why he encourages the use of the tadpole after knowing about the netherese magic containing the transformation via Omellun or Ethel.

Ethel explains that the tadpole had been tampered, so the dialogue goes:

Tav: “It's giving us more time, sounds good to me”.

Astarion: “Perhaps. And who's to say it can't be tampered with further?” (She said it was netherese magic) “it must be powerful magic to stop the parasite in its tracks, I wonder what else it could do?

At that point in the story, he knows that the netherese magic is powerful enough to contain the transformation: so he is now sure that there is more time to use it. So he will end up being the only companion in EA who encourages everyone to use the power:

“What's not to enjoy (with this tadpole)? I can walk in sunlight, trespass upon any home, manipulate minds – I'm the most powerful vampire in the realms. Granted, the looming doom is an issue, but why not enjoy the benefits while we can?

Despite the nightmares happening after every use of the tadpole powers, Astarion doesn’t want to stop. At this point, he is the only companion who doesn’t want to.

“The power to twist a mind to your will is worth some nightmares.”

By the end of the game, we are sure that Astarion wants this power without doubts. He revels in the power of mind-controlling people, ironically, despite having suffered so much of it under Cazador’s control. If we see all the situations where Astarion’s mind is controlled, or violated, his reactions will be extremely more aggressive than the other companions. He has suffered it a lot, but by the end of EA he is enjoying being on the other side of that power.

This post was written on April 2021. → For more Astarion: Analysis Series Index

#astarion #bg3 early access #bg3 meta

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dragonswithjetpacks · 3 years

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Tagged by @noire-pandora! Thank you for the tag!

5 Favorite Writing Bits - I’m just going to include some stuff from 2020. Because 2021 has been a lot of Astarion and Ferelith so far. So from oldest to newest, here we go!

1. WIP from Voices of the Fade - I swear I’m going to get to this one day. So help me. This is actually what made me want to write this series. It was the first thing I wrote for it. And it made me just incredibly heart broken.

There was something about the way the sunlight hit... She was naturally pale, so her ivory skin was glowing against her cheekbones. They defined the side of her face, giving the soft shape of her profile a hint sharpness. Her nose was so small. And so were her lips, despite how pouty the bottom one was. But it was the way the sunlight hit her face that made him stare in awe. When her eyes opened, he shifted hoping it was not his gaze that woke her. She blinked up at him as if in disbelief. He brushed a strand from the corner of her mouth as she came to.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"Home," he answered.

The stone walls of the fortress were the color of dark sand. It kept the rooms cool from the scorching sun. The windows were thick and tinted, as well, preventing any sort of breeze from intruding. The smells of the Anderfels were not always pleasant. And the birds were always hungry. Nevertheless, the mountains were massive and a wonder to look at. Like green giants plastered against a forever grey wall. And Weishaupt was it's gem. A place of honor of protection. A place of fragrant foods and quiet murmurs. And a place where the clashing of swords and explosions of magic echoed through the grounds. It was everything he had imagined.

"This is nice," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he heaved a happy sigh.

"Shame this isn't what really happened, though."

It was too confusing to mutter a response. Not that he could as a lump swelled in the depths of his throat. His mouth refused to open. And he watched as her face burned under the sunlight, a bright hot light that sizzled into ash, the same color as her hair. He reached out for her, his hands burning. It was too late.

2. From the first chapter of A Dame’s Tale (Claira Trevelyan’s origin story) - This was super personal for me. My mother was emotionally abusive and my dad was always working so he couldn’t always be there for me. And this was really just something I drew from that.

"Do proper ladies raise their hand?"

"No," the tears began to swell.

"Are you a proper lady, Claira?"

"Yes, Mother. I am," her voice cracked.

"I don't think you are."

"I promise I'll do better."

"You promised last time."

"Please, Mother, I promise. For real this time."

The tears were now little streams dripping down the side of her face. Her voice cracked as she wailed a plea for her mother's forgiveness. Her mother was silent, her eyes scanning over her youngest child as she stood sobbing in front of her. This little girl- her knuckles and cheek bruised, her lip bloodied, her dress torn with patches of dirt, her dark hair a tangled mess, and her face wet with tears- this was not the daughter she had prayed for.

"Go with your father. He'll take you to your room."

Claira struggled to catch her breath between cries and a warm hand on her shoulder didn't help. She let out the tears she had been holding back and she fought to keep her eyes open. Although blurry, she could see the back of her mother's dress swaying as she strode to the other side of the room to the balcony door. She did not see the rest as her father had reached down to clutch her hand.

3. Some super serious Aeva x Solas angst. I have feelings about eluvians. This is from Whispers in the Garden.

For a moment she saw a cliff side outlined with trees adorning flowers that was quickly obscured by a tall figure, shrouding her view. She stepped back further, feeling the air from the other side chill her entire body. Aeva became overwhelmed with the thought that this could be real and she stepped backward even further to take in the familiar shape. The mirror's image closed, making a small sound like shutters closing quickly against wind. And now the only light in the room was from the moon shining down through a window above. It made his face look pale. But other than that, it was just as she remembered.

His hands were folded behind him with his shoulders back and his chin held up proudly. His face was the same, but he was still different. It was nothing like he used to be. He wasn't the mage with the rugged tunic. He was a soldier. No... a commander in gleaming metal armor. The anger came rushing back to her as she remembered the last time he walked through a mirror. The way he used her for his own gain. Disappointment replaced her distraught and she felt ever foolish for wishing to see him. Her fist curled tightly against her and she drew in a deep breath through gritted teeth. But before she could yell, he was on her, his gloved hand pressed tightly over her mouth.

"Shhhh," he said softly into her ear.

With her only hand, she tried to push him away. She didn't want to see him. And she affirmed that by closing her eyes tightly. She hit him in the shoulder over and over until her hand hurt. Until her knuckles felt raw. Until she felt the skin punctured.

"Vhenan," he whispered.

The sound of the name he used to call her on his lips just made things worse. She pushed him one last time, feeling her arm go weak. Her knees began to shake and they buckled. Tears pushed past her eyelids, crashing down as she began to yell into the palm of his hand. He waited until she had exhausted herself. He held her at her waste and loosened his grip the moment he felt her muscles were no long tense. He removed his hand from her mouth, lifting her chin to look at her face. Her eyes were hooded and she still refused to look at him. But he could tell that she was beyond tired. Her body seemed lighter than before. Her skin had lost it's sun touched glow. Her lips were cracked.

"Enough," she felt her mouth make the shape, but was unsure if the sound came out.

He kept hold of her in fear that she would collapse.

"You can't keep doing this," she went on, finally hearing the raspy tone in her voice.

Her eyes finally opened and he could see now they were still piercing green. The yellow flecks inside were illuminating her eyes like they were on fire. They brought a flutter of fear into his chest, like the moment before being struck suddenly by fangs. But it quickly faded as she brought her hand to his face. It felt like the same man. The same smooth skin with a sharp jawline and faint smile. It sounded just like him too. Looked at her the same. But it wasn't.

"You can't come into my dreams anymore," she said. "I can't take it."

4. So I did a thing where I combined Aeva’s fear of drowning with the fear of what she lost with Solas. And because she connects fear with anger, it all just combines into a huge mess of emotion. This was the first time I really was able to portray that. An expert from Chapter 7 of Strange Fates.

Aeva walked to edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves swelling beneath her. There was the strange feeling again. The fear of the nothing beyond the sea. It was a larger feeling than what she felt at the barge. It was like the all the other times... like the first time...

The first time she saw waves this large...

The first time she sat on the coast...

(memory) The rain came down heavy and she looked outside her tent. It wasn't letting up any time soon. She paced, rubbing her hands on her face. If she didn't act soon, the trail would grow cold and she would never find the Grey Wardens. The flap to her tent lifted without any announcement of arrival. And he stood, a look of concern on his face. He offered her a warm drink. They sat across from each other on her cot. He made her laugh. He took her hand, but it was for research. His fingertip traced in the inside of her palm. She snatched it back...

"Aeva?" Fenris jumped down from the wagon. "You're looking at the sea strangely again."

"Yes..." she shook her head. "Yes I am."

"Ferguson is setting up camp if you-"

There was a drifting silence between them as she brushed by. Her movements seemed slow and her eyes looked blank. Almost as if she were in some sort trance. It had been a long night. And upon further inspection, he could see spurts of blood across her armor. Still, for her not to respond at all was odd.

"... want to take some time to rest," he finished his sentence, watching the back of her disappear around the wagon.

The tents were nothing like she used when traveling with the Inquisition. These were much smaller. Large enough for a cot and maybe a table if you angled it correctly. Her tent was in the northernmost corner and the closest to the fire, which Ferguson had already prepared. It was still small and clinging onto the wood from the blowing wind, but he stoked it carefully so it did not catch flame to the pine needles below. Iris sat nearby peeling potatoes and whistling softly. They looked as Aeva came through, but said nothing.

The fear from the waves was not going away. And the more she thought about a way to be rid of it, the worse it got. Aeva did not handle fear well. It simmered in her chest, tightening her lungs and making her heart race. When it began to boil, she burst with rage. And she couldn't let that happen. Not in front of the camp. There was only one thing she could do. She reached into her pack, looking for a specific vial. And it was there bundled in the center of strange looking leaves. It was a black mixture with floating powder. In most cases, she would use it as a bomb to subdue her enemies. But mixed with the liquid, it became a sleep aid in small doses. She shook it up, causing it swirl slowly. The small cork made a small pop as she opened it. And with a wrinkled nose, she took one drink of it as if it were a shot of the strongest ale. There was a bit of a gag, but then she swallowed hard a second time to try and be rid of the taste. The cork went back into the vial, between the leaves, and bound with string once again before she placed it back in her pack. The affects were almost instant. And she barely had enough time to lay her head on the pillow. It was her escape... for a time...

5. THIS piece of dialogue from The Quiet Closet. I was so proud of this. It was the first piece of smut I not only wrote seriously but posted. And this dialogue to me is just... oof. Um NSFW by the way.

"You," she growled. "You make me weak."

"You like it," he whispered teasingly, his finger massaging her below.

"I hate it. I despise it. I despise you."

Asatrion laughed, slipping a second finger over her. She attempted to sink down again to feel his knee, but found his grasp on her wrists were far too tight. She looked up at them helpless, leaving her neck open for his taking. He caressed over it, licking it to taste her flesh and biting slightly over her throat, thoughts tempting his darker nature. But he had sworn it wouldn't happen again. No matter how much he wanted her, no matter the circumstances, he would only take what she gave. Ferelith may have enjoyed losing control in that moment, but that didn't change her need to command other things. It seemed a bit odd to his taste, but all the same fascinating. And he wanted to explore it further.

"Tell me more," he demanded. "Tell me how much you hate me."

She dropped when he loosened his grips, her back relaxing down the wall. With a gentle nudge, his knee rose up to meet her and he felt her hips sway against him. He moved his fingers in motion, straightening them as she came in like a rolling tide.

"I hate how charming I find you," her eyes closed and her voice sound as if she were in a trance. "I hate that you make me laugh."

She inhaled quickly as he pressed harder into her core, her head hitting the wall as she reared back. He felt her body tighten and urged her forward with his knee.

"Go on," he said, baring witness to the moments of joy on her face.

"I hate the sound of your voice," she lowered her brow with concentration. "I hate how attracted I am to you."

The heat from her body was making him crave her, now, and he could feel himself growing excited at the quickness of her breath. Her spite made it all the better. The more anger she released, the stronger her movements became, and the longer his strokes became. It became difficult to hold onto her and her hands slipped through his grasp as he tried to ground himself, his hand slamming onto the wall.

"I hate this constant desire I have for you..."

Her hands dug into his hair, feeling the back of his skull. The sensation of her nails scratching against his scalp brought him closer. His hand skipped up the wall as he faltered for a moment, his face buried in her hair. The fragrance she gave was enticing, as it always was.

"... this desire to feel you. Next to me. Against me. Inside me..."

Slowly, her hands slid down to his shoulders. One remained, gripping tightly. While the other slithered up his neck, her fingers finding their grasp on either side of his face. He did not fight her pull to bring him to her gaze.

"Still... If I believe for one second you'll betray me..." she said through heavy pants, "I'll kill you."

And uh yeah... 2020 was a pretty productive year. I think I really got back into fanfiction and posting things and being more active here on Tumblr. And I’ve met some really cool people because of it. Now I’m dabbling in other fandoms and everyone has been so supportive and amazing. It’s just really wonderful. Thank you guys! And I look forward to reading more stuff from everyone.

#dwjp writes #dwip writing tag #strange fates #whispers in the garden #voices of the fade #astarion x ferelith #aeva x solas #aeva lavellan #ferelith moondshade #claira trevelyan

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