#baldur's gate fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halsinsnaturepocket · 16 hours

Text

Half Awake, Fully Horny

if you saw me accidentally post this on main ~*no you didn't*~

I finally finished it besties <3

Thank you to @pedros-immaculate-vibes for making the original post this is based on forever ago

also shoutout to my beta readers @silveredbark @roguegrove @cozykomala and @myers-meadow

Summary: It's 3am, you're about to roll over and go back to sleep, but not without a quick snuggle of your slumbering lover - except he's also awake.

Rating: Explicit

CW: Modern Au, Halsin x you, PxV sex (fem/nb reader intended but no explicit gender or pronouns are used) some hair pulling, no time for foreplay just jumping right in, halsin's got a big dick

Read it on ao3 here

You awaken against your will in the middle of the night, not for any particular reason, just that momentary lapse between sleep cycles where you are vaguely aware that you are awake. You let out a soft sigh and reach for your phone. The light blinds you for a moment as you struggle to turn the brightness down to see the time – 3:07am. Too early to get up, just enough time to go back to sleep and be rested enough for work in the morning. All you need to do is roll over, readjust yourself, and fall back to sleep. But, before you do, you take advantage of the moment to snuggle against your snoozing lover, Halsin.

You slowly rotate yourself so you are facing him; his form is a dark shadow that is slowly becoming clearer as your eyes adjust to the low light of your shared bedroom. He is positioned on his side, his broad back towards you. Usually, the two of you would snuggle in each other's arms before falling asleep back-to-back. Halsin liked to be touching you when he slept, and you loved the feeling of connection it gave you. You loved feeling him shift against you, feel his body moving as he breathed. It was a gift every night to simply feel his presence beside you.

However, the man was a furnace. Since your first night together, he had been sleeping naked, and you realized quickly that clothes were not needed when sleeping beside him, no matter the season. On most nights, you kept on a thin pair of undergarments, just enough to keep you from feeling too exposed. As much as you wanted to, sleeping in each other's arms was sweaty and unbearable on hot nights like tonight. A quick snuggle wouldn't hurt anyone, though.

You push your face into his warm back, nuzzling your face between those deliciously muscular shoulder blades. Something about sleeping always makes Halsin so warm and comfortable, his skin feels softer, his body is relaxed, his scent is strong and musky. You push your nose in and breathe in deep as you wrap your arms and legs around him, taking in as much of him as you can before you go back to sleeping. Nothing in this world was quite as wonderful. You feel him stir against you, and you realize he’s also awake. He tilts his shoulders and head back and you realize he wants to roll over and face you. A smile hints at your lips as you shift around to give him room to roll and move closer to you. In the dim light, you see his sleepy face come into focus. His eyes are closed as he feels his way into the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, and you feel his chest puff out and fall empty as he breathes in your scent. He pulls you in tight for an embrace and kisses you on the forehead, and then your nose, and your lips. His lips are so warm and soft against yours, and you lean into it, pushing your whole body against him.

Sometimes when Halsin did this, he would immediately turn back over and you would both go back to sleep. However, he instead presses his body against you in return, twining his legs between yours. Never one to turn down a full-body embrace, you shift into a more comfortable position, moving your arm under the crook of his neck, snaking your legs between his, and you let out a deep breath. As you settle yourself against him, you feel his hot, untethered length pressing against your leg. An involuntary groan escapes from your throat. Is he trying to turn you on, or was this just something he woke up with?

He half opens his eyes to meet your gaze, as if sensing the question. He smiles, nuzzling against your face. He kisses along your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking gently at your flesh. You wordlessly tell him you want more with a soft exhale as you grind your leg against his hardening cock.

Sleep was no longer an option as you felt the clouds clearing from your mind, primal senses taking over in their place. He kisses you with the hunger of a bear that just awoke hibernation, ravenously clawing against your skin and grinding against you. You trace your hand along his leg, slipping it between your entangled thighs to slide your hand along his length and he lets out a growl. He bares his teeth against your skin and grabs you by the hips, flipping you on top of him, the blanket that was draped over you falling off to his side, only covering your intertwined legs. The air around you is cooler than the dome of heat that had been created between your bodies, and with the blanket gone, the cooler air swirling around you sends a shiver up your spine. Halsin's warm hands are a welcome sensation as he rubs your chilled skin. His hands caress your sides and chest, his thumbs gently encircling your hardened nipples, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine and instantly warming you as you feel arousal pooling between your legs. A soft moan escapes from your lips. Damn, of all the nights to have worn underwear.

He lifts you up by the hips to position your legs on either side of his lap, and as he lowers you down, you feel the heat of his cock pressing against your core through the gossamer-thin undergarment as he grinds against you with a groan. You moan in response, aching for more. He pulls you closer and takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting at it as you move your hips faster against him, desperate to feel more. Not one to leave any part of you neglected, he switches his mouth to the other nipple, encircling the other with his thumb. You moan again as warmth and moisture build against the thin barrier of fabric blocking you from feeling your lover grinding against you, your panties are soaked and you can almost feel it, but it's not enough.

"Halsin....please. I need to feel you." You plead.

He wastes no time. He slides his hands down your sides and nearly rips the thin cloth off of you as he pulls them down. You ungracefully lift your legs and kick them off and bite at his neck as you greedily rub your clit against his shaft. He moans, letting you grind yourself against his length as the moisture and heat between your legs spills onto him. With a low growl, he grabs your hips with almost enough force to leave a bruise and flips you both over, pinning you under him. His hand hastily finds its way between your legs and he slips two digits inside of you, pumping them a few times before stroking his wet fingers against your sensitive clit. You let out a soft yelp as he gently circles the nub, his movements a little clumsy and hasty. You feel like an unkempt mess coming undone at his touch, your body alight with excitement from him knowing your weak spots even when half-asleep. The excitement of this impromptu lovemaking was almost enough to send you over the edge. He'd barely even started, but at this point, you're so wet and ready for him, you don't even want the extensive foreplay. You just want him inside of you now.

"Please…gods…fuck me, Halsin." you whimper in his ear. “I need you deep inside of me.”

"Hmm. I need no further invitation" He mumbles with a low chuckle. You can tell from his voice he is equally as desperate to be buried deep inside of you. Before you can take a breath, he puts your legs over his shoulders and plunges into you. You wince as he enters you, remembering exactly why you usually take time for foreplay. The pain of him stretching you so suddenly makes you inhale sharply and wince. He pauses, a look of concern crossing his face as he remembers the burden of his size.

“Should I stop, my heart?” His voice rumbles from above you. You look up at him, his hair is tousled from sleep and hanging wildly around his concerned face.

"Just keep going,” you say to him breathlessly, moving one of your legs off of his shoulder and laying it beside him, a better position since you haven’t stretched.

“I need you so badly. Just...go slow." You whimper.

Halsin obliges, resisting the urge to bury himself in deep. He places one warm hand on your hip to guide himself, and the other on the leg still slung over his shoulder and thrusts gently, going in a little deeper every few thrusts. You breathe in deeply and try to relax your tight muscles and let him in.

“Gods you’re so tight…” He lets out a deep moan as he bottoms out and he stops thrusting, catching his breath as he soaks in the sight of you beneath him.

Your eyes have fully adjusted to the dim light of the night to the savory sight of him disheveled from sleeping. His hair is down, a little damp from sweat, some strands curl and twist while others lay down flat. There are red indents on his skin across his torso and on his arms from the folds of the sheets you had been resting on only moments ago. He is a wild mess. This is Halsin in his rawest form, without any masks or walls he puts on around other people. It was a rare treat to see, but godsdamned if it wasn't always the sexiest sight you had ever seen.

“You are so beautiful.” He says, catching you off guard. Your cheeks warm as a blush spreads across your face, you probably look similarly disheveled.

With a deep breath, you move your legs, wrapping them around his waist, and pull him closer to you, pushing him in deeper. With a groan he starts thrusting again, slowly works up his pace until you are fully prepared for him to pound into you. As he feels you relaxing, and your moans become louder, he moves your legs back over his shoulders and his pace becomes relentless. The sound of your moans feels comparatively loud to the silence of the night around you as he pounds harder and harder, until you start to feel the familiar warmth of an orgasm gripping at your senses. You gush and overflow as you cry out his name, which only encourages him to move faster, chasing his own release. It all feels amazing, but you want a deeper release, you want him buried so deep you see stars. You want him not to hold back, and to feel his balls swinging and slapping against your clit until he comes inside of you. You put your hand on his chest to make him stop and he looks at you inquisitively.

"Bend me over, Halsin." you gasp.

It’s the fastest way to get you to your best release, and the one position where he never holds back, and you could be as loud as you wanted with a pillow to muffle you, no less. He wordlessly pulls out and effortlessly flips you over. As you gather together whatever pillow is in front of you to bury your face in, he pulls you up by the hips and enters you swiftly. You exclaim loudly into the cushion as his cock slides in, you feel it filling you fully, hitting every sensitive nerve inside of you.

He does not hold back. He buries his hand in your hair, pulling at the roots and he braces himself with one large hand across your back, pinning you down against the bed. He slams into you and sets a searing, relentless pace until you are a moaning, swearing mess. The sound of his moans is rivaled only by the sound of his skin slapping loudly against your wet backside, you can feel hot liquid arousal running down your legs. Just like you craved, his balls are swinging and slapping deliciously against your clit as he pounds away much faster than anyone his size should be able to. His cock swells and hits against your walls as he growls like the animal he is. His name escapes your lips an incomprehensible amount of times as your screams and moans are muffled by the pillow he is pressing you into. You have to turn your head to the side so he can hear you speak:

"I'm so close, oh gods, Halsin, don't stop...don't you dare fucking stop...fuck!" You shout as you feel your walls contracting and clenching around him as you release. He keeps thrusting as wetness spills out of you, he is not far behind. Your orgasm pushes him over the edge. He pulls your hair and comes inside you with a primal, guttural noise and you feel his cock twitching inside you as he fills you.

After a few beats, he releases his grip on your hair and pulls himself out of you, and you're finally able to collapse belly-down on the bed. A groan escapes your lips as you feel his seed sliding out of you.

"We're going to need to wash the sheets in the morning." You mutter. There’s no doing it now. You need to sleep.

“Indeed.” He chuckles. You take a few deep breaths, waiting for the blood to return to your legs so you can shakily walk yourself towards the bathroom to hastily clean yourself up.

When you return, the ruined sheets are on the floor, Halsin has carefully draped your favorite fleece blanket over the naked mattress. Halsin is smoothing out the wrinkles as you lean against the door frame, admiring how he looks as he spreads the blanket out with care and sets the pillows back on the bed, giving them each a little fluff and arranging them carefully for optimal comfort. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and gives you a warm smile.

"This blanket isn't ideal for sleeping on long term but...it'll do for tonight. We can toss the sheets in the wash tomorrow morning."

You return his smile and roll on top of the bed playfully, beckoning him to lay back down next to you. He smiles and lays down beside you, spooning you against him. He pulls the plush duvet cover over the both of you and pulls you in tight. He kisses the back of your neck affectionately, and the two of you are sound asleep before you know it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thanks for reading! reblogs/likes/comments always appreciated.

tagging everyone who liked my post earlier: @ohnoo0o @plutonianplaything2 @plutonianplaything2 @ltlmc

#bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #Baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate fanfic #halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x reader #halsin x you #halsin smut #not sfw #my writing

107 notes · View notes

multific · 3 months

Text

Valentine

Astarion x Reader

Saint Valentine's Day, a silly little tradition that used to mean nothing to Astarion.

He knew about the day of Love, of course, he did. He just didn't care.

But now, now he had you, his Darling. Someone who saved him and showed him what love truly means.

This was the first Saint Valentine's Day which you two will celebrate together.

And Astarion was both excited and nervous.

He knew about the traditions. He knew that usually, men gave flowers, chocolates and other small gifts to women.

And he wanted to do just that.

He headed to the market and picked up a handful of flowers and a box of bonbons.

He was ready.

You, on the other hand, did not expect to find him with the most beautiful bouquet in his hand, standing in front of you, waiting just for you.

He looked so sweet.

"Darling, will you be my Valentine?" he asked and you nearly melted onto the floor.

"Of course," was your simple reply with a smile.

The sweetest smile appeared on his lips as he took your hand into his and started to walk with you.

Although Astarion was a complex man, he could be very simple and minimalistic.

He enjoyed a slow and steady life with you.

Many couples were walking around town, enjoying their time together as did you.

Astarion brought you to your favourite place shortly after, the gardens.

Flowers only begginning to bloom, you enjoyed the sun and the slight breeze sitting in the field amongst the flowers.

You didn't know, but as you closed your eyes and let the sun warm your face, Astarion was watching you, he watched your small smile as your hand was holding his.

Valentine's day will be his favourite tradition.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

332 notes · View notes

dutifullylazybread · 2 months

Note

What are your Rolan headcanons?

Apologies for the late response! My brain gave me an Error 404 notification, and I sat there for a moment like... What are my Rolan headcanons?! But then I thought on it, and I definitely have a few! Romantic and NSFW are under the cut!

SFW

Rolan can't actually sleep without some form of light. Prior to Elturel's Descent, there was this glowing orb that hung over their city that they called The Companion. Before they learned the real reason for its existence (which I will not spoil here), it was this entity that shed light over the city 24/7, and that light extended out in a 50 mile radius. So people born in Elturel were used to sleeping with the Companion overhead at all times, whereas visitors would use light-canceling curtains so that they could sleep (inns would offer these). This is my long way of saying that Rolan can't actually sleep if there isn't a light source going in the room. If it's the fireplace, it can die down throughout the night, but it must be going when he falls asleep.

I think that he drinks wine and has a deeper appreciation for it because of the Descent. All food in Avernus tastes terrible--even the rations that you brought with you. In the "Descent Into Avernus" module, the text makes a point to say that wine tastes like spoiled milk in Avernus. So I think that, for Rolan, he savors the taste of wine in particular. Sometimes to the point of excess.

Whatever he overindulged in at the Last Light Inn, he now hates. For no reason whatsoever, I think he went too hard at Plum Fizz, threw it up, and now he can't even stand to look at it. I don't want to say that the same is the case for Arabellan Dry, but there is at least one drink that he overindulged in that now turns his stomach.

He is a very light sleeper. Zariel had a skeleton crew of devils that would skulk the streets of Elturel and torment its inhabitants. If Rolan was a heavy sleeper before, after having the devils pass his family's home with such regularity put him on edge, because they could never guarantee that the devils wouldn't break into their home. Now, even the slightest noise can wake him.

I think that a devil offered him a deal in Avernus. Likely, it would have been the power to protect Cal and Lia. I think he was very close to taking it--even more so if their mother was dead at this point. I think he ultimately did not take it, and I think Lia and Cal yelled at him if they found out he was considering a deal in the first place.

This man 100% tried to brave Avernus' terrain to find a way to keep his siblings safe. The problem with Avernus is that the terrain is ever changing. Per the "Descent into Avernus" module, going to Fort Knucklebone might be ten miles. Going BACK from Fort Knucklebone might be sixty miles instead. I don't know if he gave up and went home of his own accord or if the party of heroes who helps Elturel help him get home. Either way, he views it as a failing on his part.

After their mother was killed, I think Rolan experienced a serious amount of survivor's guilt. This makes it so he is even more protective of Cal and Lia. Nothing else matters but keeping them alive. Hence why he is so deep in his cups when you find him at Last Light--he feels that he broke the promise that he made to their mother. He failed to protect his family. The ONE promise he wanted to keep, no matter what.

He wrote to Lorroakan, desperate for an apprenticeship, because the other Elturel Refugees were also heading to Baldur's Gate. However, refugees from Elturel were being actively blocked from entering the city. I definitely think he believed that Lorroakan was talented if he could lay claim to Ramazith's tower, but I also think that he wanted to make sure that he, Cal, and Lia all had a home when they got there. I think that he was willing to put up with a lot if it meant that his siblings were safe. So, in a sense, this was an apprenticeship of convenience, but I also think he did believe that a wizard who presided over Ramazith's tower would likely be a talented one.

I think that Lorroakan likely took credit for one or two of Rolan's arcane discoveries.

This man is vain. Everything about his appearance says "immaculate." Does he find a smudge on his sleeve? Prestidigitation. Is there a tear along a seam? Mending. Hair out of place? He'll be back in ten minutes--he just needs to get everything in order.

He is always thinking about how he can make a spell into an experience that Cal and Lia can enjoy. Not just prestidigiation, but also minor illusion. I wouldn't put it past him to learn Control Weather so that if they're too hot, he can cool them down. Are they disappointed that the snow disappeared too soon? Well, he has just the answer.

He is overprotective. To a fault.

While he genuinely believes it when he claims to be "the handsome master of Ramazith's Tower," or argues that he is talented, I think he started saying these things so that he could convince himself first. If he was abandoned by his birth parents, that no doubt took a toll on him. So he is very fond of positive self-talk.

Romantic

He might not always know how to verbalize his feelings, but he does demonstrate them in other ways.

Your favorite food? He learns how to make it. And he always has the ingredients on hand.

You mention offhandedly what your favorite drink is? He has at least three tins/bottles of it on hand.

If you want to make him short-circuit, wear socks that don't match.

He'll say he isn't a cuddler. He is a liar. He'll claim that the extra pillows and blankets lying around are there for your comfort, which is true, but he is also the one who is primed and ready to tuck them around you and him and read for hours on end.

Also, he loves spending time with you doing different things in the same room. He doesn't think he gets lonely since he is so used to studying on his own, but when you start sitting next to him or settling into place on a nearby couch while he works, he realizes what was missing.

He is the king of longing stares from across the room.

Will short circuit if you sit on his lap and kiss his neck (can't say more in the SFW section!)

Will cling to you when you sleep in the same bed. You honestly don't need much in the way of blankets because of the heat he puts off.

NSFW

Oh ho ho ho. I have so many and so few at the same time!!

Will bite you if you ask (and will fantasize if you don't), but he loves the idea of marking you as his, so he wants to do nothing but give you lovebites.

Personally, I think he is a switch. He can go from being the best service top in the world to being the one in need of a lot of physical affection and care. He struggles to actually verbalize what he needs, but if you can pick up on his cues, you can very much so tell whether he needs you to take the lead. From there, it's a matter of suggesting something and seeing if he is game.

That being said, he will not hesitate to bend you over a desk or take you against a bookshelf.

I don't think Rolan is a virgin (let's be real, if he has so many fans outside of a D&D setting, he definitely had a few who were attracted to him in Elturel). But he has always been very focused on taking care of his family or his studies, and I don't think he was ready for a serious relationship until after settling into the tower.

That being said, while he isn't a virgin, he also isn't well-versed in different sexy time fun things.

THAT BEING SAID, if you float an idea to him, he's going to consider it. And, so long as he is comfortable, he's down to try it too.

And once you and him start having sex on the regular, he starts to see the real potential that spells can have. Mage hand is an easy one... but what about enlarge person?

Get him worked up enough, and he will absolutely decide to fuck you in every single room of the tower (Cal's and Lia's excluded)

100% uses his tail. I shall say no more.

Your moans will make him short circuit. It takes EVERYTHING for him not to come when you moan.

Your moans, or your squeals, are also enough to get him hard. Expect him to start acting a little... needy after you make a noise like that.

King of morning sex. I shall say no more.

Loves when you go down on him. And if you moan around his cock? He's a goner.

If you blow him under his desk? He will never be able to sit at that desk again... not without going full mast.

If he's working and you whisper something lewd in his ear before walking off, he is either going to abandon his studies and want to take you up on your suggestion or he's going to sit there and stew. Either way, you have a blushing mess of a wizard on your hands.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan #baldurs gate 3 #rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 headcanons #baldur's gate fanfic #baldur's gate 3 headcanons #head canon #head canons #rolan head canons #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #rolan x reader

332 notes · View notes

meowsgirldrawing · 2 months

Text

Prince Astarion vs Princess Anna (BG3)

Prompt: The ragtag gang of tadpole holders saves a princess (daughter of a grand duke) from a miserable fate by some monsters, then decides to help escort her back to her town. Astarion didn’t mind any of this, but after weeks since his and Tav’s exchange of real affections and confessions, he’s not too keen on allowing her fluttering eyelashes and obvious thing for heroes to go on any longer.

Note: Tav is a tiefling in this, because I love tieflings so much, but I'm trying to keep it mostly open so people can imagine their Tav's easier. More or less a little self-indulgent on my part.

Warnings: Little spicy moment, nothing explicit, just Tav and Astarion being in love and maybe a little bitey here and there. 🤷‍♂️Cussing, noble insults, some violence but it's Baldur's gate so nothing new right?

Word Count- 9,948 (I was having fun, alright? Sue me)

A03 Link

Masterlist Link

“Let’s save the little princess, they said!” “It’ll be harmless, they said!” Astarion bristles, leaned up on the tough wood pole that holds up his tent. The pure white pup beside him pays no attention, his gnawing noisy and breaking the air occasionally with happy whimpers. “I mean really??” He manages to keep his words low-ish, but his hand movement, flaring up in mock dismissal, is rather the opposite. “Who does that little minx think she is?-” “GO WYLL, GO!” Karlach’s booming voice interrupts him. Loud enough that Scratch finally peers up, tail wagging. Oh so you’ll ignore me but as soon as the big fire lady says one word- Not that Scratch really needs to listen anymore, Astarion trails off, finally resuming on the scene before him. The scene he was so diligently watching for a few reasons only before his disgust came filtering in.

Gale steps up, settling in beside Karlach, “Do we really need to do this?” “Have a little fun, Gale,” Tav huffs lightly, playfully, as they snatch up another log and set it up in the stump, axe glinting in the sunlight from their hand.

“Of course we do! Since Tav thought it was oh so wise to comment-“ “It was just a joke, Wyll-“ They try. “On my “princely-ness” I must show them exactly how prince-like I can be!” His shirtless chest puffs up in confidence, or faux bravo as Tav rolls their eyes and sighs. And that is through a friendly log-chopping competition apparently. “Tsk’va-“ Lae’zel settles up next to Gale’s side, her eyes focused on the pile beside the two morons. “As long as we get firewood, I don’t care how it’s done.” Tav nods, grateful “Thank you, sweet Lae’zel. See Gale, it’s harmless my guy!” Lae’zel does her dismissal words, rolling her eyes. The friendliness form of ‘no problem’ a Githyanki, at least their favorite one, can offer apparently.

What? No, the competition is certainly not Astarion’s source of disgust. The sight of a bare chested, years of fighting showing in rippling muscles, Wyll going against their broad-shouldered, built in both structured and height Tav, whose upper half is covered by a mere tank top. That is absolutely not it. If anything, he could sit there all day watching both go at it like morons over a simple joke. And no, it’s not how he can clearly see the others taking in the sight as well. Gale watches in more amused confusion compared to most, but if you looked harder, his eyes are certainly not straying from either’s form. Karlach’s tail wags lightly, while her eyes glim with her hearty laugh. Perhaps if she wasn’t already burning up from her engine, she’d probably be visibly burning up in another way. Still, her focus is on Wyll, amused and thoroughly intrigued.

Lae’zel’s possibly the only one who isn’t doing much leering, but she isn’t so innocent. She goes from watching their forms swing down the axes on Tav’s call to being unable to take her eyes off Tav’s arm stretching out for another log. She huffs but does nothing more besides crossing her arms. He can’t blame them, not at all, his Tav alone is a sight to behold. Not to mention their overall friendly and sweet persona that takes no real effort, a gentle giant is what he’s heard multiple times by Shadowheart. Added with Wyll, an admittedly gentleman despite his profession at slaying off monster heads, his demeanor also alone can melt the strongest of hearts. Pair them together, and you got a nice show to sit back and enjoy. Especially with the banter thrown left and right. “Ready to give up, Tav? Even by your tail I can tell you’re struggling.” He grins, eyes crickling in mirth. Tav scoffs, their tail adjusting the log before swinging back to behind them. “Try me, warrior boy. I’m just getting started!” “Well-” At the next call, both heave up their axes and slit the wood in two. 4 more added to their respective collections. “So am I, my friend!” Astarion’s lip quirks, but then turns into a full frown as soon as he hears it again. A high pitched giggle. A little ways behind the two competitors, there sits a young woman in a fair and fluttery day gown, dark long locks curled over her shoulder, manicured and well cared for hands trail near her full and red lips as she giggles out her response, “You’re doing just amazing, both of you!” But her eyes stay on Tav. His Tav.

His lip curls, eyes piercing from the other side of the camp. There she is, the little princess he and his group just so happen to come across when dealing the final blows on a goblin camp. Annalisa, or rather, Lady Annalisa-Daughter and heir of Duke Salton. Who just so happens to be from the town they planned to head to next before her untimely landing into their group. They had just taken down the last of the slavers; Astarion retching his arrow from his latest kill’s head. He grimaces as he looks over the chip on it’s side. Great now he has to make a new one. He’s all too ready to un-proudly announce his discovery and wills to leave, but an explosion cuts him off. His companions all brace themselves at the sudden arrival of flames. Gale whipping up a new spell, one to counter fire possibly. Lae’zel who didn’t even put her sword away yet, already making her stance beside Tav. Tav slides out their last blade, their other one lost in one of the bodies scattered about them, yet freezes. Tail stiffening up high.

“HELP!”

There, on the cliff side connected to the burning stairway, stands a young woman, arms tied infront of her, a makeshift gag hanging around her sweating throat as she peers down at them with a crazed fear in her eyes. She must’ve been one of the most recent captures, if her ripped and ruffled clothes and tangled hair have anything to show for it. She’s going from them to the burning stairway, “It’s too hot! I can’t make it!” Gale tries to shoot out his spell, but- surprise, it just grows further. Licking up the sides of the cliff she’s on, the woman is tittering back as a scream tears from her throat. Ringing through their ears and into the night sky.

“There must be a source fueling it on the other side.” Lae’zel deducts. “Shit.” Astarion glares at the flames. His mind reeling for ideas.

Before anyone else lets out another word, Tav rushes forward. Their dagger making a mark in the dirt as it lands. Boots thump hard against the earth all while they ignore the calls from their companions. As they get as close to the fire as safely possible, arms fly forward in an improve net.

“Come on! I got you!” “What?!” She gapes at them. “Jump and I’ll catch you!” “But-“ “Theres wooden planks under you, yes?! It won’t be long before that ground is covered too, so jump!” The woman whimpers, tears fueled with fear drip down her cheeks, “I can’t!”

Astarion, from his position amongst the others’, can’t see it but something changes with Tav that has the woman altering aswell. They’re smiling.

With a friendly grin as sweat drips down their forehead, dirt and blood milled on their armor, the Tiefling simply lifts their arms more at her, “I promise you can! I’ll be right here for you!” Something shifts in the woman’s gaze, but she nods, backing up. She’s still shaking. “Y-you’ll…you won’t drop me?” She begs, and it could almost break Astarion’s undead heart. Could…if his heart wasn’t so set on the sight of his lover literally on the edge of flames.

“Of course I won’t!” Tav actually laughs. They have a way of keeping the air light, even in the most heated environments. A skill they use especially now, the gentle giant keeping their expression light and open as they call out to the frightened young lady, “You have my word, I won’t let you go for even a second!”

Another stilling moment. Another moment were Lae’zel almost decides to go up there herself to get the woman off. Another of Gale searching his mind for any fire deucing spell as a backup plan. Another moment of Astarion glancing from the flames to Tav, not liking the lack of distance as flames brew. “Tav-!”

Then she falls. Astarion feels his words lodge in his throat, his yell coming out instead. All as Tav ducks further near the flames, arms awaiting for the impact. Fire licks at their arms as the woman is caught, before swiftly pulling out. They twirl on their heel, yanking both to the arms of safety. Just as another explosion lets off. Immediately covering the area Tav once took.

He knows damn well their resistance to fire is apparent. Still, he’d rather them be afraid of it or wary at the very least than walking into it, arms open. Literally. It didn’t help that as soon as the bindings were off, gag cut from her throat, the woman turned to his lover with the sweetest little smile, “My hero!” She sung.

Lae’zel merely rolled her eyes at it, stashing her sword away. Gale chuckles, an anxious finger scratching at his beard. Tav blinked but soon chuckles, a palm at their neck, “It was nothing.”

Yet the praises kept coming. And to the point were a side of Astarion wished they never even found the practical puppy at their presence. Especially when Tav later got it out of her that she was the daughter of a Duke, having been snatched up in the night, ending up with a bunch of slavers who’d sell her off for some dirty coin. And especially when her hand lingered, cupping their bicep far too long for his liking. Now…

“HELL YEAH!” Karlach’s engines spur, her excitement fueling Gale’s astonished laugh. Wyll had won.

“Well,” Tav gives a laugh of their own, offering up a handshake. A nice show of good sportsmanship. “Congratulations, my friend, you know how to chop wood faster than I.” Their hands clasp together as both allies grin.

“Oh, don’t beat yourself too hard, pal. I’m sure you have more suitable talents that will show themselves soon enough.” As Tav barks a laugh, giving good ol’ Wyll a pat on the back, one that has him stumbling forward some, Astarion immediately notices movement behind them. He can’t even get up before Annalisa is running words off her tongue. “That was wonderful, Tav!” Her fingers tangle together, the show of shying as her eyes can’t necessarily stay on Tav too long. If you’re too shy to say one sentence, perhaps you shouldn’t speak at all. “37 logs in an 30 minutes…that m-must be a record of some kind.”

His eyes jump to Tav. Desperately hoping no expression can have his chest squeezing uncomfortably. They smile, cheeky, “Oh you don’t have to save my ego, Anna. I stopped counting by the 12th, I simply wanted to see how much Wyll had in him for such a short time.” “And yet,” An arm is wrung around their neck, tugging them down a slight. Wyll’s horn knocking into theirs lightly, almost as much as a hip bump, “I still obtained 51. I’d say keep the compliments coming, Lady Anna! This one might need it.” He gently pats their shoulder, as if consoling them.

At that, Tav’s eyes roll and they’re shoving the Warlock off. Both he and Anna, who once the woman realizes the playfulness, are swept into a small fit of laughter each.

The camp air is light, a nice break from the overall dampening gore and violence that plagues their days. The scene, seeing his companions tossing banter back and forth, doesn’t exactly feel exclusive for Astarion. He feels fine, watching the others prattle around like children.

His only wish..

For Anna to finally give an extra meter to the feet apart she is from Tav. Like 12 meters, perhaps 15 if he were so lucky.

Or rather simply..or kindly drop dead. Either way satisfies Astarion.

-------------------------------------------- It’s late. Crickets are alive and making their music to the world known. Distant owls coo and stay wary of the fire crackling in the middle of the camp. Or rather it’s people surrounding it. Wyll and Jaheria have already staggered off to bed, the high moon clear to everyone of it’s dark hours. Halsin too, the druid tired from a long day of happily helping Tav on their village run. They plan to stay one more night before packing up and heading off to the next area, the one where Anna will be promptly dropped off and their next assignment picked up.

The only people left up and about were Shadowheart, Gale, and Lae’zel. For once, the two women aren’t at each other’s throats, simply for the nice reason of Tav and Astarion settled in between their positions. Oh and Karlach’s watchful but friendly eye from her bedroll, chatting easily with Gale over a new spell he’s experimenting with at the moment. She may look lost, tad confused, but whose to say she isn’t interested to some degree. Especially with how hyped up the little wizard, half her size, prides himself joyously. Astarion huffs, “Did you really have to go on and handle that heinous creature all by yourself??” Ah yes, what the camp lovebirds were up to. He tugs their arm closer, pushing their rolled up sleeve higher. Only to reveal more purple and blue forming at it’s slow-ish pace.

“Halsin was already busy with the herb finding, “ Tav’s eyes nearly roll to the back of their head, “If I didn’t settle the horse down quickly, I’d possibly have more than scrapes and bruising.” “And your response was to go to it’s front and stand in the cross fire of it’s flying, hard hooves?” Shadowheart chimes in, her held tilt making her pause in her fire poking. “I’ve handled horses before, I knew what I was doing.” They defend again. “Yes, and now you being a moon painting on legs is clear proof of such knowledge.” Astarion drops their arm into one elbow, throwing up the other. His face twisted in clear and loud irritation. “I’m fine, Star,” Their laugh breaks out at the sight. Pulling the arm out and behind his shoulders, they tug him close, “At least they are just bruises-“ “Big, growing bruises as we speak-“ “Bruises, Astarion! It’ll heal in a few weeks from now and I’ll be back to my regular color in no time.” He wants to push further, wants to lecture them until they agree to not even look another horse again. But with their cheek rubbing into his hair, hand trailing on his side in a gentle caress, his argument is faltering. He huffs, ‘attacking’ their arm in a light slap around the wrist. They feign an OW! Chuckling into his white curls.

“I swear, if Halsin comes back again with a report of you being a complete and utter idiot-“ “You know very well it’ll continue, why even threaten them in the first place?” Lae’zel mutters aloud, her steel sharpener giving little shrieks with each slide. “Well-“ “Hello everyone!” That voice chirps rather loudly from behind. Tav’s grip loosens in a way that has Astarion growling from his throat at two things instead of one. Shadowheart shoots him a look he arrogantly ignores. Tav’s head twists, a smile quirking up on their features. “Hey, Anna!” The princess beams, cutting around the log the two sit on and coming into everyone’s view. What she has in her hands, or rather platter, has Shadowheart furrowing her brow and lightly tilting her head, “What you do have there, Anna?”

“Drinks! Gale showed me the recipe.” If she wasn’t holding the platter, she’s sure to be fiddling with her fingers. Her head faces downward instead. So shy and sweet. Astarion’s grip on Tav’s waist grows. Enough so that Tav takes their attention of Anna and to their vampire lover, eyes asking ‘are you ok?’ He simply flashes a smirk, waving off their comment and detaching from them. Fast and quick. Like a youngling found out by their parents.

Tav’s concern only grows. Astarion, while fine flaunting their relationship around of the rest of their misfit crew- holding hands as they tred along, pulling them down for a quick peck before splitting off, showing no shame as he walks out of their tent at early sunrise- he’s surely one to tone it down in front of strangers unless he feels reason not to. Like at the festival they recently went to, the one with the druid and her love test, he was proudly holding their palm and strutting along like a newly wed afterwards. It must be that.

Their face tenses a little, concern warping their brow. As much as they want to ask further, wane for an answer, they know it won’t help. Most definitely not while in front of their crew plus Anna. Astarion will always refer to their shared tent if he had a problem, somewhere private and safe. Easy for him to unload whatever plagues him. It must be that. Hopefully, he can talk then. When Anna isn’t looking, they check and peck his forehead, all before releasing him themselves. He doesn’t react, eyes on Anna. She passes around the drinks, all merrily and happy as can be. A hum to her lips, eyes crickled and flashing with joy every time someone thanks her for their drinks. Of course Astarion doesn’t miss the lingering fingers against Tav’s as she hands over theirs. He keeps his hiss quiet and nudges closer to their side once she changes course.

She still smiles as she offers up her gifts to Astarion and Lae’zel. To which Lae’zel declines, her palm up as she critically eyes the concoction, “ Is it sweet?” “Of course, I-“ “Then I have no need for it.”

Astarion giggling mind stirs at Anna’s slightly puppy, dejected face, all before being put to a stop by Anna’s switch to him. “Would you like a cup, Astarion?” She flutters sweetly.

He hums, staring at the juice that came from that of an apple. If he has his scents correct. He lets a smile polite enough to etch on his face, “Apologies, my dear, but fruit isn’t for me. I prefer something with a different type of juice.”

Tav nearly chokes on their latest sip. So does Shadowheart, who giggles rather nervously. Anna, feeling a joke she’s missed out on, doesn’t take it to heart. She tilts her head but accepts his decline with a light expression.

Gale immediately recognizes the flavor as it hits his tongue, awing in gratitude, “Oh, Anna! This is amazing! It hits the nerves just right.” She bows her thanks, “Thank you, Gale, where had you learn this recipe anyway? I found it the most fun to experiment my brewing skills with!” “My mother,” He says as proudly as he always mentions her, “After spells and incantations, my mother made and taught me such wonderful recipes the Dekarios family has been passing down from generation to generation.”

“Well, remind me to give my additional thanks to Momma Dekarios, this is awesome, Anna!” Karlach as always, is loud in her approval. She swallows down a gulp, licking up the excess as a hearty smile dawns her face.

---------------------------------------- “If you don’t mind my asking….how’s Tav?” It’s about time the fire is put out and people retreating into their tents for the long day tomorrow. Gale pauses in his storing, leftover porridge poured into a sealable bowl for another time. Shadowheart too, her bedroll under her arm and a second one, for Anna, on the ground next to her. “How’s Tav? As in health or character?” Gale can’t recall anything odd about Tav. They finished their fill and left a little soon after, yawing out a goodnight as Anna left for a moment. Of course with the oh so friendly vampire of the group not too far from following suit.

Kalach did the same after another fill of the juice Anna shared before heading off to her bedroll. Anna blinks, “Oh, character! I’m sorry, I’m merely curious as I seem to know only one side while everyone else is more or less open in comparison.”

Ah that’s true. As open as a listening Tav is, their stories and dreams aren’t shared as much amongst the group. They only want to focus on others, not themselves. Shadowheart, with a knowing chuckle accompanying, tells Anna such. “Don’t take it personally, Tav has always been that way. It’s rare to see any drastic difference.” To be fair, they can’t seem to remember half their life story, amnesia being a killer on their soul.

Gale nods along, “But what we do know is they have a good heart despite it, always willing to help, even if they could loose limb or life along with way.” “They are also such a jokester, don’t forget,” The bedroll spreads, palms finding rocks and nicks in the dirt and pulling them out from beneath, “Gods only know how that mind works for the especially stupidest ones.” Anna giggles, taking the last of the supplies from Gale. Who smiles in thanks. “Oh really? Well, I did get a hint of that with Wyll that one time.” Gale’s head tips back, long tangles waving down, as he groans out, “Oh they have been much worse from that.” Anna hums, eyes thinking, “So…uhm…is Tav perhaps..single?” That, not Gale’s ice spell for the cooking fire, freezes them. They share a look and glance back to a fidgeting Anna. Did she not see Tav and- A wince pulls on Gale’s face, apologetic almost,“Anna-“ You gotta give it to him, he tries. “I’m sorry!” Her hands fly, “I’m sure they have a different life behind this whole journey you are all gathered for, but I simply can’t help but ask! They seem so sweet and noble, not to mention so handsome and beautiful! I couldn’t help but become curious.” Her cheeks are aflush, bright red upon fair skin.

Yet they can’t get an answer out. Gale flushes, remembering all the times he’s accidentally stumbled upon a sneaky Astarion and flustered Tav in his search for privacy in the woods, all to the point he thinks some are purposeful. Shadowheart feels the same. The tadpole isn’t active, but she still ends up in the same predicament. Flashes of glimpsing at their tangled hands as the two converse at the back, shared pecks (mostly Tav to Astarion) when they think no one is paying any attention, lovey-dovey shit that can make anyone, relationship or not, feel as single as a tree in baren woodlands. “Anna-“ Gale tries again.

Anna cuts him off again, “You know what, I’m too tired, that’s it! Let’s forget this ever occurred, please!” She winds up snatching up her bedroll from a grimacing Shadowheart, tucking tail and fluttering off with a short but rushed, “Good night, my friends!” over her shoulder. At the silence that follows, the two left behind blink at one another. “Oh..Astarion is going to loose it.” Shadowheart clicks her tongue. Remembering all the times Astarion smirks as Tav’s attention flies to him instead of anyone else, Gale can’t help but agree wholeheartedly.

-----------------------------------------------

“Excuse me?” The hiss hits Gale hard enough that he’s no longer wondering why Shadowheart left the idea up to him. His fingers trail up to rub his forehead, he feels Astarion boring into him, red eyes pinched in a sneer. “She merely asked a question-“ “Yes, a simple and innocent question on if MY lover was single or not.” “I tried to tell her no!” He whisper-shouts back, eyes drawing up to meet his. “She flew off like a scared squirrel before either of us could tell her such!” So much for being a good friend and trying to warn Astarion ahead of time. Ugh..he should have went to Tav themselves instead. They’d at least wouldn’t keep interrupting him. “Look, I’m not one to go about messing with anyone’s relationships, but I think the best thing is talking to either Tav or Miss Anna or both.” He waves his hand around, “Clear the air so they say.” “You’re right, surprisingly.” Astarion blinks. Gale pauses, still walking beside him. Is he actually going to- “You aren’t one to go about messing with relationships, at least until after you get it through that oddly shape skull of yours that it isn’t your place.” And that’s how the small spark of hope of Astarion’s redemption arc died in Gale’s heart. His shoulders lower in his defeat. But perk right back up as a palm slaps on his and another onto Astarion’s shoulders. “What we talkin’ about?” A sharp whisper fills his ears. Astarion jerks, Gale just about yelps out his soul. Both turn, meeting dark eyes of their favorite baalspawn of the group. They grin, eyes hooded, “What? You boys kept whispering a little too much, Tav asked me to check on ya’ll!”

“Durge!” Astarion, once again, hisses with their common nickname, “Did you really have to sneak up on us?” “You’re a rouge..” They blink slowly, diligently, as if the concept should be obvious to all, young and old, “You didn’t think to keep an eye on your own purse?” “I think you meant to say back.” Gale’s head tilts. Astarion’s hands start wandering around, patting his sides. “Nope.” Astarion confirms the opposite, a grumble falling as his gaze clicks upwards. The well flourish decorated pack goes bouncing from the little rope that secures it as it hangs from their grasp. Their lip bit in their covered chuckle.

The bag is snatched, Astarion stuffing it as deep as it can go in his pocket, stink eye glaring down at the thief in front of him. Gale picks at his brow, rubbing as he groans. “Durge…” “Yes, handsome?” They purr, turning to him with the biggest look of innocence that Astarion has ever seen. Hands clutched behind their back, head leaning sweetly, eyes fluttering. “It’s not rather becoming to eavesdrop…” His eyes do that weird softening as he says that. Mystra, then Tav, then them? No wonder the man has the oddest relationship with romance. Astarion feeling his eyes draw to the back of his head nearly with how hard he rolls them. Maybe he goes any farther, he can see that tadpole that gotten him in this mess in the first place. The idea then turns a tad too grotest for his liking so he stops with mute boredom.

“Hey!” They start, “I told ya, Tav asked me to check on ya.” Gale fixes them with a look.

“Anyhow!” They send one right back, no hesitation. However, it isn’t hard to see the twinkle of fondness they share. Astarion feels his eyes about to roll a second time. “Wanna spill?” They wink.

Gale looks at Astarion. He boredly blinks back. He takes that as the equivalent of ‘go ahead’ as he huffs. “Anna’s been showing a rather kindly interest in Tav as of late, yet doesn’t seem to get the hint that Tav and Astarion are…a thing?” He looks at Astarion again, edging the last words carefully.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Ohhhh.” Durge walks in stride with them. Their eyes squinting ahead at Anna talking animatedly with Tav. Hands parading about in some clear story, Tav’s fluffed shoulders bouncing in presumed chuckles. If they look hard enough, focusing really good, they barely see the red that fits her cheeks. And they don’t seem to be from the sun at all, hells, it’s chilly more than anything this odd morning.

“So that’s a thing.” Such drama in this camp. Their giggling mind can’t get enough. “So what are ya gonna do about it?” The question is for Astarion pointedly, but their glance at Gale keeps the conversation opened. “I was just telling Astarion that he should speak with Tav about it, maybe drop it in casually or say he’s just noticed things here and there.” He too looks at Astarion pointedly. “I think it’s the best thing to do when you notice someone’s throwing heart eyes at one’s lover.”

“And I think that if it’s how you say, my relationship, I should handle it my way!”

Gale’s jaw drops, about to defend his statement with ever breath he has, but the arm looping around his shoulder chokes those words up. His breath freezes in hit throat as Durge yanks him closer to them, easy smirk meeting his confused gaze. It promptly drops the moment heat meets his skin, burning his face red.

Durge throws an eyebrow his way, grin growing, then focuses on the vampire glaring intensely at the back of Tav and Anna’s skulls. His eyes darting down the moment Tav seems to glance over their shoulder. “Alright then.” Durge shrugs, whistling their contempt. “Keep it and store it in until little miss princess figures out the same way you got Tav to bend over backwards for your wayward soul.”

Gale pales. ‘What are you doing??’ His whispers a harsh breath on Durge’s ear. The Baalspawn looks nothing close to uncomfortable, they only grin at Gale. ‘Don’t worry about it, handsome, just focus on our little magic date later, k?’

That clamps the wizard up. “Way-Wayward soul??” Astarion squeaks. His glare intensifies onto Durge. It’s then a bubble of laughter, nothing of joy, all full of sarcasm-Gale and Durge exchange a look- spills from his lips.

He scoffs, “I’m just going to ignore that comment, please and thank you, and besides that, I highly doubt some daddy’s little brat stain will be able to get through, and while I adore them so, Tav’s platonically-stricken head.” His hand flies up and places delicately over his chest, claws out. “I hate to announce it to the class but it took me explaining the basic idea of sex for Tav to understand what I wanted from them at the Tiefling party!”

Before Gale or Durge could go on any further, or Durge just encourage Astarion’s sass fess, the spawn turns heels and marches to the front. He sends the last comment in a hiss over his shoulder, “Like that butterfly flapping, pampered parasite would even try it anyway if I have anything to say about it!”

-------------------------------------------------

He thought the privileged princess wouldn’t try anything. Afterall, she sounded like a blushing virgin at the mere thought Tav knew what plagued her as she attempted in asking Gale and Shadowheart, at least by what Gale told him. But…he should've realized something.

If he can go thinking he easily seduce their unofficial leader with batting eyes and whispered promises with no issue, only to get turned on his metaphorical side and end up in the first committed, healthiest relationship he’s had in over 200 years by accident- then he should’ve realized all things don’t go as planned.

And by that he means that Anna definitely didn’t act a blushy nun, keeping her feelings locked up safe from the world, she decided to do the rather opposite.

Any chance she got, she was trying to either stay by Tav’s side or help them out around camp. Even going as far as to interrupt some conversations with their companions, mainly Shadowheart- suppose she saw how the two bonded over loss of childhood memory and supporting each other in most arguments amongst the group- enough so that it took Lae’zel directly ignoring her input as she was talking to Tav. Oh and doing it again one time because Tav was late for their planned training.

Yeah, he remembers snickering on the side with a not so quiet Durge as the half-twit fumed red in the background, all the while their astral-dwelling companion grabbed Tav by the collar and dragged the poor, apologizing sheepishly tiefling double her size to their usual area.

At least he got a chance to ‘soothe’ Tav’s bruises that night, tent flap tied up tight.

She isn’t the fighting type at all, so surprising for Astarion-Gods!- so the only time Astarion got Tav to ‘himself’ was when picked to go out.

And even that got limited!

The crew recently found a mining crew in need of muscles to get their buddies out of an explosion gone wrong, amongst other things, so they’ve yet to move their camp for the last few days as Tav took Karlach, Gale, and Shadowheart out to help. They would’ve brought Halsin too, possibly to help with the healing bits they are sure to come across, if not for the warnings of the mining crew about sightings of a creature wandering around too.

So yeah. Tensions be high. And higher for the two who unknowingly/knowingly pine for the same sweet leader of their stitched together group.

Astarion’s been pointedly ignoring Anna during the day, immediately retiring to his tent the moment Tav’s safe and sound. And the others too he supposes.

Thankfully everyone has enough sense to not pry the vampire about it, merely giving him glances or odd looks whenever he excuses himself from anything Anna wants to talk to him about. Save for Lae’zel who honestly could care less about brewing drama afoot in the camp and fills the silence by sharpening or training just about all day.

After yet another failed attempt by Anna in her new request to speak to Astarion privately, he once again guesses wrong in thinking she finally stopped, finally got the point he wants nothing to do with a prancing bird, parading around his lover day in and out.

Imagine the dear’s surprise that first thing he walks into in the morning is seeing Anna waiting outside his tent, fidgeting and picking at a small sack in her hands. His eyes dart to Tav, the teifling wrapping a conversation up with Halsin it seem, sack thrown over their shoulder with a casual grip. Seems Anna won’t be putting on fluttering eyes and sweet smiles for Tav today.

“Astarion!” She perks up immediately as the man slips from his tent. Face immediately fitting into place with a light smirk and narrowed eyes.

“Lady Annastasia, and to what do I owe the pleasure to?” He stands straighter, arms folding lightly.

She bites her inner cheek, “Oh nothing big, I merely need to ask a question of sorts.”

“Ah I see.” His head tilts, studying her. Going up and down. She sways in place, as if nerves are biting at each angle of her sides. “ Is it wrong to assume it’s about our Tav?”

As he expected, she blinks wide at him, freezing in place. Her eyes dart from him to the taller hero who just made their way to their three traveling buddies for the last day at the mines. Tav told him as he curled in their lap, getting his fill in as they carded their fingers through his locks last night. He didn’t mind their rambles as he ate, if anything, started to encourage it as of late. Doesn’t have anything to do with their absence of voice filtering around his tent, oh no.

Anna’s voice can’t help but come out as a waver. “Is…Is it that obvious?”

Admittedly, Astarion lets the sympathy slide through, “As obvious as a little puppy longing for it’s owner?” He makes that gentle hissing sound through his teeth, “I’m afraid so, darling.”

She visibly drops, a pout pulling. “Oh.”

“But not to worry, my dear, Tav isn’t the brightest tool in the shed when it comes to romance, so I think you’re safe.” For now. He wants to add. “As a rogue, these things are quite easy to catch amongst other things.”

She nods, agreeing with him as a small bout of hope pools her eyes once more. She blinks up at him, a gentle smile relaxing her features. “If so, I still want to ask my request of you! If you don’t mind, of course.”

Why the hells should I?

“Of course, whatever the Lady desires!” He says instead.

She begins speaking her request to him and he listens for a bit till he realizes she’s close to telling her life story as she rambles. So his ears do the most rational thing and begins drowning her out, getting only bits and pieces, enough to be able to nod or agree without seemingly ignoring her.

All the while, Tav stands at the edge of camp, close enough for them to catch his eye with little exaggeration. To others, they may look fresh and bushy tailed, ready for another adventure. To him, they look exhausted. Without even being near them a whole lot, he knows right away they’ve been restless the past few days.

Call him silly, but they can’t help but remind him of a giant puppy in a way. Always eager to please him, always looking forward to talking with him or following him around, even while he’s doing the following most days. They miss him.

Despite the non-angsty but hollow look in their eyes, he kept help the slight, odd satisfaction on knowing he’s the only one able to make that happy unintentionally.

They smile, grim and tired wrinkles around their corners.

He smiles back, Anna thinking he’s still listening throughout.

Tav does a quick, funny look around, as if trying to make him laugh, which he has to stop himself with a clearing of his throat, before bringing up their hands in an overall cliche heart symbol. Someone could see it and they don’t care.

He keeps himself from acting any stranger in front of Anna. For the few times too many, he’s glad he can’t physically blush in front of others.

With that, Tav wanders over to their group and begin their last day to the mines.

“-I know you’re close with, so I was hoping to get your opinion of this gift I bought them?”

Astarion blinks out of his little dream world of pink clouds and sweet nothings, and comes back to the ever nervous Anna in front of him.

“Oh right! Yes, I’m sure whatever it is, they’ll adore it.”

Anna beams and takes no time to pull out a silver necklace. Red gems, rubies possibly line the chain in small drops. It’s beautiful. Clearly carefully crafted and made for the loveliest lads or ladies.

Astarion makes his stand back as subtle as possible.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” She raises it high, thankfully close to her. “I saw it in town with Durge the other day and couldn’t help but snatch it right up!”

“Terribly sweet.” He marks. Winces carefully hidden.

“Yeah! It could also help with their little ‘problem’.”

Astarion perks at that. Ears winding.

‘Huh?’

Questions on his face must be evident cause Anna immediately jumps to an explanation.

“Oh, I’ve noticed these odd markings or rather…” She looks left and right, leaning in just a slight. As if whatever she says would bring panic to all around them.

“...Bites!”

He blinks, again.

“I understand if Tav has some…arrangement with someone of the night, but I worry for them!” Her eyes fill with an emotion he’s seen way to many times. Pity and anger.

“Vampires are..vile, dangerous things! The vampire that Tav lets them feed from must be seducing them, using them a mere cattle!”

Tav said something to him once about comments they get as a tiefling. How they obviously look like devils but the real insult is being compared to livestock. Namely bulls or..

“Cattle?”

Something sparks in him. The whispers he had when he first met Tav and their small group of Shadowheart and Gale begin again.

Anna nods dutifully. Almost sadly. He hides the grit in his teeth as his claws scream at him to rip that nod clean off.

“I feel this necklace could help them scare whoever it is off, yes?” Then her expression shifts, eyes turning downward in that shy act once more. No, coy.

“I just think it’s best for them, you know?”

THATS NOT YOUR FUCKING CHOICE TO-

“Of course! Such wretched creatures need to be purged from this world!” He may be playing it off a little too much. He adds in a wiping motion, swift and able to startle Anna. But she looks at him with big, woefully hopeful eyes and he knows he has her.

A feeling he welcomes greatly, especially in this moment as anger shakes his very soul, comes to play. It claps it’s hands, plays it’s tunes, drafting it’s first idea with gleaming eyes full of mirth.

He keeps it hidden with a gentle smile, dare he say gentlemanly. So charming he’s sure Anna would’ve been swooning if not for Tav.

“I suggest giving it to them tonight, my dear.” He wraps a friendly hand over hers, ignoring the light sting he feels from one of the dangling bits passing through her fingers and onto his. “Afterall, with how much Tav has been working tirelessly with this whole mining business, who’s to say that fiend won’t be lurking about when embers cool? They’ll be too tired from the mind to be able to have their guard up, this might just be their savior.”

Anna makes Astarion realize something new as she giggles, feeling suddenly heroic for her idea as she agrees fully to his idea.

She’s the biggest fucking idiot he’s ever met. And he’s met plenty.

-----------------------------------------------------

Lurking he does.

The moment Tav says their farewells to their companions, treading to their tent in wavering steps and light winces. Body full of a long recent days that guarantees how their next morning will go. Resting and allowing their body to recuperate, hopefully with a certain cold lover at their side. Oh how they’ve missed such a face, such a presence bursting with sassy jokes and dreadful touches.

Its no surprise how fast their tail starts swinging left and right the moment they hear the flaps of their tent open, pulling their tank down with no real speed.

They turn and see him in all his awaiting glory. His crimson eyes lure from up to down, taking in their freshly washed appearance.

“Long day?”

“The longest.” Their body sags.

Astarion tuts, pulling the most pitiful, sympathetic pout only a mother could give. “Oh you poor thing. A guess saving a loud, smelly bunch of miners is a big killer on the whole heroic motive, yes?”

“Wish I could agree with you, lovely.” Their lip quirks, “Still into the heroic image, unfortunately.” “Pity. Thought I could finally pull you into the dark side of things.” He moves closer, grabbing the towel from their neck and begins dabbing the remaining drops on their collar. “You know, evil laugh, lunatic planning, leather galore and dark lairs, all the sorts.”

“You know…” It’s now they can pick up his, and he hates when they say it, perfume he keeps refilled. The smallest luxury behind the many books he tends to the most. It’s not strong, subtle enough for the allspire bit to mix in surprisingly well with the woodland essence they must be all drowned in by now. “I might be persuaded a bit?”

His eyes slide to theirs. Cheeks making them squint with his smirk. “Oh?” His head tilts. “And with what exactly?”

“Blame the miners actually, but perhaps this ‘hero’” Their hands prick quotation marks, he snickers, “wants a little time with their favorite little villain.”

“Little?!” He grabs the towel in a firmer hold, swatting them on the arm. All gentle, no worries.

“Astarion, I’m nearly as tall as Halsin and taller than Karlach.” Their words deadpan, tone full of underlining giggles.

His fangs show and he wastes no time in pulling them to the bed on the side. “ It doesn’t matter, my dear! I will not be resorted to such words like ‘little’!”

“Then why are you getting on my lap?” They ask as he indeed does so, huffy as he goes.

“Shut it, now.”

“Whatever his majesty desires.” His hand covers their mouth, eyes glaring. Their palms face up in a surrender.

“I will do what I desire..” His arms curl around their neck, nose nuzzling into theirs. Tav began doing that at one point when he was still getting used to the intimate but nonsexual shows of affection. A quick nuzzle when one of them felt off and they immediately perk up as if the action itself forced new energy into them.

He feels arms close around his waist, low enough to not touch his back scars directly but also not too low to suggest anything past cuddling. He huffs at their tenderness, patting their arm to tell them what he wants.

They curl tighter in response. They appear to have needed that cause in mere moments, they go from tight body and straightened back to relaxed and curling into his front.

A long breath escaping.

Astarion purses his lips, ducking into their neck.

“Are you alright?” His whisper soft.

Their shoulders lift and fall back as if that took alot of effort in itself. “Tired.” They’re knowledgeable about the horns as they nudge further into his collar, “And missed you. ‘M sorry for not bringing ya. It was really dark and cramped and I just didn’t-”

“Hey-” He’s quick, finger flicking under the chin and pulling up. “What did we say about unnecessary apologies? I believe they were your own words, love?”

“They are unnecessary, therefore we don’t need to say them.”

“Exactly!” His finger boops their nose. The silly act making them smile onces again. It’s tired but happy so he’s happy. “Wow, you are so wise! Perhaps Gale needs to watch his tracks.”

“Pft- Nah. I like swords more.” Their head shakes as laughter spills.

“More things for us to bond over, I suppose.”

“You like daggers more.”

“A blade is still a blade. Doesn’t matter how long.”

Their eyebrow pricks. “Why do I sense an innuendo?”

“Perhaps you’ve just been in that mindless gutter far too long.”

“Eh.” Their forehead knocks back into his chest. A slither around his thigh and a touch from his fingertips confirms the scaly tail. “Maybe.” It begins wagging as he curls a palm around it, thumb rubbing circles in the side, before letting it do it’s clinging thing.

It’s late. And he’s sure Anna will show soon. And as according to his plan, Tav stays locked in his arms in such a way that would be impossible for even the most idiotic of idiots to mistake it for platonic. Especially when they’ve just begun trailing kisses up his neck. Soft and delicate. Going from his collar, to his adams apple, to the edge just under his sensitive ear.

His arms tighten, claws digging into the tank top underneath them. “Tav-”

They pause, pulling away a bit and a side of him whines at the loss in milliseconds. Before, he would have pulled a pity party at himself for having such an inward reaction, being made into mush just over a few kisses. But the other side of him now? HA, he’s more concerned over that look in their eye. Thinking they’ve done something wrong. Their grip loosens too and he knows he needs to stop that.

His arm unhooks from their neck and grabs their forearm. “Don’t. I just wanted to ask you something?”

They blink and tilt their head. All ears as he would say.

A thought plagues his mind. He knows it’s really silly but…Something about what Anna says kept replaying in his mind all day. No idea why, he already knows the answer to what he wants to ask but..

“What is it, Astarion?” They frown lightly up at him.

His legs under his thighs, pressed against theirs, shift as he works through his question. With them waiting all patiently of course.

“I understand if Tav has some…arrangement with someone of the night, but I worry for them!”

“Im used to comments of how damn devilish I look, literally. Not figureativ- stop with that look, Astarion. And I guess it’s not the worse but..cows or cattle gotta be a real ego destroyer.”

“Vampires are..vile, dangerous things! The vampire that Tav lets them feed from must be seducing them, using them a mere cattle!”

“Do you feel weird when I feed from you?” He blurts.

Their stare is loud. Looking all over his face as if he’s mere seconds from breaking into laughter, playing up into a joke.

When that doesn’t happen, they stay silent a moment longer.

“..No?” They glance around, thinking, “Should I?”

“I just-” He inhales, a burst of dustration bubbling up, He’s not a feelings person but he wants to try. Tav’s always telling him to talk if he’s worried about something. Might as well get used to it now. “I know our circumstances were an agreement of sorts but..I suppose.” His eyes dart down. A wave of vulnerability washing over him.

“I suppose I’ve been overthinking and…and can’t quite seem to get it out of my head.”

“Are you asking about side effects or ‘feelings’ feelings?” They try to match his gaze.

“..The latter.”

Tav hums, tugging him closer.

They’re a planner. Always have been, might always will be despite this fucked up situation they might be in. Unconsciously, maybe that’s why if anyone in this group were to be asked who the leader is, even durge who likes doing their own thing, everyone would point to Tav.

Thus, he gets an immediate idea as why they ask if he trusts them enough to pull them to the bed. With him under them. He shrugs but after a look, says his consent with a roll of his eyes.

Pulling him down, they make sure he’s absolutely comfortable amongst the silk pillows and fur blankets before wrapping themself over him. Legs straddle their hips, arms playing boredly at their neck, and he can once again feel their tail tapping on his thigh, all before wrapping around it in a soft cage.

They smile at his questioning gaze, assuring him they won’t try anything funny without his explicit consent, all before leaning into his neck for a kiss.

He stops the yelp in his throat. They’re right on the mark, teasing the sensitive skin from earlier. Their chest vibrates with their chuckle, end of the tail wagging.

“It’s ok, lovely. I won’t do anything more than this.” Lips murmur as they trail up his neck again, going to the other side.

His legs jerk, wrapping around their waist just they hit his ears again. His teeth grit, “You’re doing- doing this on..p-purpose!” he accuses. Another kiss lands at his lobe, canines only a tiefling could have probing it’s edge, “T-trying to distract me from my question??”

Was it that silly they would ignore it outright?

Before any odd feeling could come in place of his non-beating chest, their arms circle his waist, pulling their bodies closer. Making a tangled mess of the shorter elf and tall tiefling.

“On purpose? Mm, Maybe.” They nip the skin just above his scar, not directly on it. A part, deep and nervous, but somehow longing more, whines for a little lower. “But I wanna prove a point.”

“What point?” A hiss escapes and his claws dig crescent moons into their shirt again. They pause in making a mess out of the man beneath them, pulling away and meeting his hooded gaze with a soft look. So soft and uncensored for it’s immediate openness he nearly stops from trying to catch his breath.

“That I want this too.”

Then they drag their head back down again and he’s back to drowning.

“I want you satisfied. I want you happy.” They lick a small line up and his unlatches from the fabric to catch his moan. “Want you laughing, teasing, sharing feelings, and when you need to” Their words stop as they get a little into it, tightening their hold and suckling a small bit into one spot. He just about bites his tongue when a squeak wants to make itself known, nearly tearing a new hole into the shirt as he stops himself from jerking up and more into their hold. Not that he could move much if he wanted to. They keep a safe hold on him. As if they knew how he’d react.

He curses and bites back a groan from that.

They let go and lick their lip. “I want you to feed.”

“Cheeky devil!”

“I thought you adored that?” They chuckle in his face, nuzzling into his neck immediately afterwards.

His hand swats their back.

They keep on chuckling, and they keep on their attack on his neck.

He lets them, despite all the clawing into their shoulders, leaving marks that make it look as if they lost a fight to a feral cat, occasional tightening and shaking of his legs on their hips, groaning and small whimpering melting into their neck. He holds them tight against him, letting them show how much they want him, Astarion, their little, sassy, vampire elf. Bites and all.

His eyes open from their clenched state the moment his ears pick up something. They twitch but Tav’s too busy on one particular spot on his neck vein to notice.

Crimson eyes land on the figure at the tend opening. The same one who clutches the horrid necklace in one hand and clenches the tent cover in a tight fist with the other. Dark eyes staring on the curled up form looming over Astarion, tail wagging furiously as if they’re getting the bestest damn treat in existence.

Anna. The doe eyed little princess they picked up on their journey. The same one who doesn’t look at them with the same little doe eyed expression she’s been throwing left and right since they’ve saved her. They scorn with a glaring envy Astarion has been all too familiar with since she arrived and made moves on his lover.

Speaking of which….

He looks her straight dead in the eye as Tav makes a new mark into his pale skin, curling his fingers deep into their tank as he lets his jaw drop and hang to a loud groan that filters the tent. The corner of his lip curled at her immediate response.

She stiffins. Eyes pooling. Pooling with all he's felt every single time she rested a delicate hand on Tav's arms. The same ones that wrap around him and have become the first nearly-safest place since his escape.

The same feeling he got every single time she looked up into Tav's unknowing gaze with huge hearts for pupils. The same person that looks over every moment he opens up, makes a joke, or even gets just the tiniest bit about a book they got for him simply because they heard his low comment about it.

Only he isn't the one mourning some fairytale. Not anymore. His relationship with Tav might not be one he could only imagine every cold and sickly night in Cazador's reign, but gives the same exact feeling he's always looked for underneath and that's plenty enough for him.

A sharp prick at his neck and he's letting out a louder moan than the previous, hand curling around their bicep as they adjust to get even further into him. A hand snakes up to his head and when the thumb brushes his ear, he gets closer to loosing it again.

Perhaps he should've warned her. Tell her who was really making Tav happy every night and day. Save her from inevitable heartbreak of her wanton fairytale image being shattered. And he was planning to the moment she showed up to his tent this morning. Yet…

“Vampires are..vile, dangerous things! The vampire that Tav lets them feed from must be seducing them, using them a mere cattle!”

His eyes dart to Tav’s neck, recently healed sometime today.

He believes a mark of their own should be the best for them.

He wastes no longer in letting his fangs show, shining fleetingly in the tent's handing lamp, and pledging them into Tav’s neck. Eye slamming close the second iron hits his taste buds.

He hears a gasp but it gets drowned out by Tav’s grunt turned moan. Hugging him tighter. He drinks like every night, but maybe a tad less than usual. They really did have a long day after all.

Blood drips down his lip, onto his chin as he pulls back and looks at the entrance.

Gone. The girl ran off.

Good. More time to reconnect with his dear again, and in the best ways possible too.

A laugh escapes him as they tickle his side for the surprise, turning to end in another moan as they get to his under chin now.

--------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

“That’s odd, Anna doesn’t seem like she wants to speak to me anymore.” Tav mentions as they wonder back into their tent the next morning, finished with their morning check in it seems, “In fact, she’s asking how long until we get to her home town.”

Astarion hums ‘thoughtfully’, reclined and the almost relax on their bed. The only thing he wears is one of their shirts, loosely buttoned together and opened up enough to let the world see exactly how far their little ‘time’ went last night, plus some shorts he’s left from time to time in there. They actually didn’t get farther than leaving a trail down his chest and him, many marking bites around their shoulders and collar (those he can see clearly with the spare button up half heartedly put together) but it leaves enough for anyone to assume and like hells he’s gonna correct anyone if they did. “I did find this though.”

He glances up from his book, page carefully marked so as to not lose it. It’s getting rather good. It may be some silly romance genre Tav found for him, but it’s Tav. Why wouldn’t he indulge a little outside his usual?

“Oh, a necklace.”

“Yeah, silver and honestly extremely eye-catching. Not something I’d wear however.”

Oh yeah, he forgot. Tav likes the less complicated jewelry. Think of single chain or lonely gems in the center type. Says it makes it easier to wear under the pelted heat and armor. Ironic he supposes.

“I mean silver? Really? When I have a vampire for a lover?” Their head shakes and they stuff it in the ‘to sell’ bag.

His ear perks up, “What does my state of being relate to your choice of jewelry?”

Their stare into him offended him slightly. As if they are questioning his very wits.

“Lovely, unless my reading is fucked, vampires are basically allergic to silver.” They state, a small deadpanning in their tone.

…Wait, they read about vampires….for him?

Something stirs in his chest, the same feeling from last night as he blanks at them.

“....Get your ass over here right now darling and kiss me.”

Their tail shoots up, expression thrown back, but soon a grin grows, canines begin flashing and demonic eyes sparking. “Oh like you have to ask me twice!” They laugh.

—----------------------- “Should I tell you who tried to give you the necklace by the way?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, lovely.”

“You know our dear Anna, yes?”

“Yeah…I just told you how she keeps ignoring-...”

“....”

“Did she know about the silver?”

“Yes, very much so in fact.”

“Was she at the tent last night?”

“Possibly-maybe.”

"........."

"............"

“....She leaves tomorrow.”

“ :)”

38 notes · View notes

ellegreenwxy · 2 months

Text

ii. when it crumbles

#bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 ff #bg3 astarion #bg3 astarionff #bg3 astarion fanfic #bg3 astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfic #baldur's gate astarion fanfiction #astarion x durge #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion fanfiction #tw blood

21 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 27 days

Text

WIP Tag Game

Tagged by my beloved @contrivedchaos!

Ye olde rules: If you’re tagged, make a new post and share 1-2 (a few) sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context -- Let your followers guess!

These are from unposted chapters! The POVs are probably very easy to guess, though 🤣

Snippet #1:

Karlach elbowed Halsin. “What about you, then, big bear? Are you looking forward to seeing the city?”

“I am, in a manner of speaking,” he said. “It has been some time since I visited a city. Wyll has spoken of how Baldur’s Gate shelters and fosters those who need a home, and I look forward to witnessing such community.”

Astarion barked a laugh. “Is that what he told you? Oh, Wyll. You’ve been away from home for longer than you think.”

Wyll tutted. “You’re ever the misanthropist, Astarion.”

“Who, me? I am not,” he said innocently. “I love people. They’re my favourite food.”

Snippet #2:

Thaniel leapt onto Halsin's shoulders with a grasshopper’s grace, and Halsin began climbing the tree in his elf shape — more slowly than he needed to.

Thaniel tugged his hair. “Faster, Halsin!”

“I cannot go any faster,” he said, and he continued his purposely-slow climbing pace. “There’s a rather heavy boy on my back.”

Thaniel chuckled. “I am all around you. I can’t weigh anything.”

“Are you certain? Hm, you weigh something to me. I wonder if you might be growing.”

“I can’t grow! I am a spirit.”

“You are?” Halsin said in playful surprise. “Then there is no need for you to ride on my shoulders, is there?”

**************

Tagging to anyone who sees this and wants to play! Please join on in! 🥰 But let me name a few of the usual beloved culprits: @johaerys-writes @crackinglamb @hollyand-writes @mogwaei @alyssalenko @heroofshield @vorchagirl @auntie-coagulant !

#fanfic writer's life #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate fanfic #pikapeppa writes

12 notes · View notes

writings-of-an-introvert · 8 months

Text

I made a sad comment on tiktok about Astarion not wanting to outlive Tav. Many people demanded I pay for therapy. I'm broke so I wrote this while listening to Hozier's Unreal Unearth album. So I suppose that's close enough lmao

I Have Lived My Whole Life (Psychopomp)

Tav was feverish the whole night. They barely slept, but they weren't restless. Astarion could hear their heart quicken and weaken. He knew they didn't have much longer. He sat with them, the whole night, reminiscing of long over adventures and quests, of times long past, of their first meeting, of saving Baldur’s Gate. The moment he knew he had no choice but to love them.

Tav had aged. They had aged a good one hundred years since they slayed the Absolute and struck down The Dead Three's Chosen. Astarion did not. He watched in the shadows as Tav's hair grew grey and wiry, he watched wrinkles carve and crease their way through their smoothe skin, he watched their eyes lose their shine and grow dull with blindness, he watched their body become crouched with the weight of age. But Astarion stayed the same, his back did not bow, his skin kept it's porcelain smoothness, his eyes remained bright and sharp. He did not drink from Tav in these recent years, he wasn't sure they could withstand the toll it takes on them. So he returned to hunting at night, feeding on anything; just enough to sate his hunger, but never enough to kill.

"Astarion," said Tav weakly, pulling him from his thoughts as he laid beside them on the bed, still in his "day" clothes.

"Hmm? Yes, darling?" He looked over at them. They looked so beautiful, the dim candlelight nearly erased the hardest years from their face.

"I am so sorry, my dear," they said, reaching a hand to rest on his.

"Whatever for, my love?" he asked taken aback. He propped himself up on an elbow to get a better look at them. He slowly brought their hand up to his lips and kissed their knuckles.

"I could never help you. Not how you truly deserved. I never found a way t-"

"Hush, darling." He began, "you have nothing to be sorry for. Especially, not that." He whispered.

"There was never a day I didn't try, my heart." They said, tears welling up in their eyes.

"I know." He kissed the backs of their fingers, "I know, darling. That's all I could have hoped for. You can rest, finally."

Astarion could feel their heart begin to slow, their breathing soft and easy. Certainly not long now. His eyes locked onto the sheets, lost in thought. Tav shifted in the bed.

"Comfortable, my darling?" He asked.

"Some bright morning comes." They said. Astarion glanced up at them, their eyes had turned to face the window. The sky had become a deep navy, signaling the approaching dawn.

"Indeed, darling. Would you like to go see it?" He asked, watching their face in the candlelight. Tav hummed in response. Astarion had not been able to walk in the sun since the tadpole was removed one hundred years ago. He'd given up hopes of a cure for his vampirism about seventy five years ago, and had his reckoning with eternity in the shadows and the mortality of those around him. The memory hurts, but does him no harm.

"I think I would," they said.

"Then allow me," said Astarion. In one sweeping motion, he stood up from the bed and scooped them up in his arms. He made sure to keep their blanket with them to keep them warm in the cold pre-dawn hour. He carried them to their back porch and sat them on a deeply cushioned bench just outside the back door. They were up on a balcony overlooking the Chionthar and Lower City of Baldur's Gate. Their home nestled gently on a grassy hill just outside Rivington, away from the hustle and bustle, but close enough for Astarion’s nightly excursions.

Normally by now, Astarion would be settling into his own bed in the basement. He refused to get a coffin. Tonight, however, he chose to remain by Tav's side, among the many things he refuses, letting them die alone was indeed one of them. He'd remain by their side until they were gone and slip away back inside to alert the temple for services. Then he'd write their other companions, those that remained, anyway. They would all like to know. He didn't expect them to come for him, but to pay their respects to Tav, if they decided to stay for him, well good: another reason to break out a fine vintage.

He looked at Tav as he plotted his next few hours. One hundred years he'd known them, loved them. He watched them grow and change and survive and thrive. One hundred years he held them in his arms. One hundred years and not a single moment of it all a transaction. A thought he hadn't had in a long time. A pit formed in his stomach, empty and heavy at the same time. He'd miss them, painfully. He'd be lonely again.

"My star, you're quiet tonight." They said leaning their head back looking back at Astarion, and for a moment he could see a clarity he hadn't seen for quite some time.

"Much to think about," he said, turning closer to them. He propped his arm up on the back of the bench and let the back of his knuckle caress their cheek.

"You have that look. You're planning." They said.

"I am." He replied.

"Planning to stay?" They asked. Tav had a strange look on their face. They stared deeply into his eyes, something stirred in him. This was his choice. Astarion tilted his head, his own eyes searching their face for a hint of any kind. He looked back out over the horizon. The sky was a pale pink, the clouds were a deep purple, and birds were just starting on their songs. He looked back at Tav, who's eyes never left him.

"I think so, my love." He said finally. Tav nodded. They sat in silence a while longer, Astarion listening to their heartbeat get slower and slower, he watched their eyes close one last time, he watched their breath become shallow and cease. His knuckle still caressing their cheek. After them he's never going to be the same. To love and have been loved so fully, so completely. To have healed and been healed. He kissed their forehead, he let his lips linger on their skin, taking in their smell, and running his fingers through their hair one last time. He closed his eyes.

"Darling, there's a part of me, I'm afraid, will always be trapped in the abstract of this moment," he whispers, "all my love and terror balanced there between those eyes."

Astarion looks back out over the world. The sun begins to peek up from the horizon. He doesn't feel it on his skin yet, the coolness of the night still lingers. He sighs and stands, but his feet do not carry him back into the shelter of the house. He looks at the door. He does not want to go inside. He looks back at the sunrise and walks to the center of the balcony, just a few feet away from the railing. He stares into the golden and rust colored sky, set to burst with erupting color and birdsong. It is blinding. He feels it then, as the sun comes up fully over the treeline, his skin begins to burn, yet he does not want to go inside.

The pain quickly becomes unbearable, his plan falls apart, just as all his plans did. Someone will find them, one a corpse and the other a pile of ash. He falls to his knees and closes his eyes, but he let's the sun bathe him entirely. He is not afraid. He is not sad. Nor angry. He is happy. The pain starts to numb and darkness creeps into the corners as his vision fades. He holds his arms open and he lifts his chin defiantly, basking in the glow of the burning first light of the sun.

He feels a pair of cool hands on his cheeks. His eyes dart open, the pain is gone. Standing behind him and looking down at him is Tav, glowing and radiant and young.

"Oh, my star, you stayed." They said, their brow furrowed. Astarion reaches for them, his hand glowing and youthful.

"I could have done nothing else, my love. I'd be home with you."

#astarion #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate iii

27 notes · View notes

versatileginger · 4 months

Text

Second little snippet of my upcoming (as for now) one-shot.

AU, where I took some creative liberties with the lore. No mind-flayer (not mentioned)

#versatileginger writes #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfic #astarion imagine #astarion fanfic

12 notes · View notes

williamvapespeare · 6 months

Text

Set after the drow twins five way with Halsin, Astarion, and Tav.

A collection of scenes in which Halsin and Astarion talk in circles about the particulars of their sexual trauma and Tav comes along for the ride.

#halsin/astarion/tav #halsin/astarion #baldur's gate fanfic #halsin fanfic #halstarion #halsin x astarion #astarion fanfic

13 notes · View notes

faundlydreaming · 2 months

Text

Sweetly Wicked Dreams

Ao3 Link

Characters: Spawn!Astarion x Named Tav (Fi, female) Rating: Mature Warnings: Mental Illness, Psychosis (Tav), angst, psychological hurt/comfort, trauma, tragic romance Word count: 1978

Summary: What happens when you finally find the love of your entire soul and you both are finally happy? Sure, things may not be perfect, but what's important is that you both have found home in one another. That, in itself, is a form of freedom, isn't it? What happens when that happiness slowly slips away in the form of mental illness, when your love no longer recognizes you, and neither of you can do anything about it? Author's Notes: This takes place about 10 years post game :) Spawn!Astarion and Fi have been together since then, but unfortunately they're not out of the woods yet with Astarion still not being able to walk in the sun and Fianna slowly losing her sense of self.

“Fianna?”

“Hm?”

Fi sat on their shared bed, unaware of the hours she spent staring into the elaborate patterns painstakingly sculpted into the ceiling of their room. Astarion’s voice sounded hard, eager, with a sorrow-filled hint of desperation that was beginning to become all too common. It sliced through her delirium like a blade through smoke, but just like smoke, it settled back into place with nary a sign of ever having been disturbed.

Once again, her brain was filled with a fog that made the world slow, her head pulsing with something akin to a headache without the pain, but all of the disorientation included in it. The world was dream-like this time, the light within their bedroom too bright and haze-filled, and the shadows clear without the usual haunts that pushed her into absolute terror. For now, the silver moonlight that danced with the flickering orange of candlelight poured through the window and bathed the pair, adding to the unearthly realm that Fi’s weary mind resided in.

Beside of her, Sasha slept on the bed, Fi’s hand finding perchance in the lupine’s soft, creamy fur in an unconscious attempt to ground herself to this reality. Fianna’s eyes slid to Astarion slow and curious, the white-haired elf a beautiful relic of their history that at the moment, she did not remember. As her vision focused on the stranger, the realization of his presence cumbersomely caught up to her and a cavernous fear struck through her like a mace to a skull.

Things weren’t so slow anymore.

The tiefling’s body tensed, her eyes once soft and ethereal now stoney and rabid. She dipped her chin into her chest, shoulders hunching as her tipped ears lowered like the familiar animal she slipped into when her mind lapsed like this.

A longer than typical whip-like tail slashed behind her as she crouched on the bed, baring her sharpened teeth at Astarion with a growing rage that switched instantly from her previous hazy state. Her thin, white chemise clung to her body like a vice that she dragged her claws across to tear through with how restricting it was, anything to bring down the threat that stood fearfully in front of her with his muscles equally tensed and a jaw set tight.

“Fi!” He yelled. “It’s me, it’s Astarion. Please, darling.”

Her snarl roiled into a low growl. She didn’t move, but she didn't relent either. Astarion’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow as he waited by the door, his fingers gripping the frame so tightly that his knuckles went white. This stranger knew when to back away from a predator. Smart. Her legs ached with how long she crouched on the soft mattress and glared her victim down. The murkiness of her mind grew into a storm of confusion, of animal instinct, that same instinct screaming at her to attack this being if she could not chase him away. There was no thought aside from a creature’s analytical prowess in order to survive. No clarity in her mind told her that she recognized this man, that they had traveled and loved and suffered with one another for years now.

That he was the love of her entire being.

“My love,” he said. His voice was a quiet caress onto a wild beast that held no effect other than for her to tilt her head at him quizzically. “Please, snap out of it. You’re home, you’re safe. I’m here. I’m real.”

For just a moment she paused, her wide, disk-like eyes regarding him with a confusion that held a flicker of recognition as she raised to stand clumsily on the bed.

A trick. She crouched again as her fingers gripped the bedsheets, ready to snap, ready to lunge at this man who claimed lies, who tried to fool her in order to capture her. She would not be fooled, he would not detain her. She would rend flesh from muscle and bone and claw and bite and scream and rage and-

“Ah!” She hissed as the pain struck like lightning through her hand. Blood began to bead on the back of her hand and on her palm as the pain of the bite mark grew with rushing heat. She snapped her eyes onto Sasha who raised her lips in a snarl, ears pinned back while the whites of her eyes overtook her amber irises. She too was balanced on the mattress with an awkward stance, her four legs spread unevenly as the claws of her paws dug into the softness below her. Sasha’s face was not one of threat, but of eyes wide with fear, her head low and tail lashing. She let loose a whine of anguish with blood that decorated her ivory teeth.

“Mother?” It was a simple question in the wolf’s singular utterance. Was Fianna there? Or was she somewhere else lost in a hells of utter terror?

Fianna fell back onto her legs as she kneeled. The fire of her hand turned into a dull ache as lines of red trailed down her fingers and onto the white sheets of their bed. She stared at the starkness of the crimson liquid against downy alabaster sheets, so different from one another, just like the shattered sides of herself. She nursed her wound absentmindedly with her other hand as she tried to force sense into the situation.

One moment she was in the spiraling dream that clutched her mind and lured her into a state of unreality. The next moment, it was the living nightmare as something vicious within her mind whispered sick and terrible lies. It was a wicked poison under the guise of a promise to ease her mind, to lose herself to full on psychosis. It was a promise that however horrid the consequences were, she wished she could guzzle that poison and finally end these episodes that often hurt her and the ones she loved the most. Like Kilbern and Sasha, who had no concept of what was going on. Like Astarion, who had lived through his own unrelenting madness for centuries before the pair met. Now he had to live through hers.

She did this to them. She forced them to walk as carefully as one would on ice as thin and as final as a wooden plank over the depths of the ocean. If it weren’t for her, they’d be free of her mental ailments that caused her to see things that weren’t there and threats that weren’t real. They would be free of her. She could finally stop the war between cognition and the mire of false dreams.

“Are you here, darling?” The vampire spawn’s voice was soft, trembling as he kept his distance while his fingers untensed. He stretched them open and closed to ease the ache that undoubtedly built up from the intensity of the moment. These were moments that were all too common, now. In her childhood, the lack of lucidity was a familiar and deceitful friend. At the apex of her thirties, it had come back with a hungry vengeance.

Her world switched once again and the fog disappeared, leaving her alone with Astarion, Sasha, and her cursed self. The torrential rain of emotions followed after.

“...Stary?” Something within her filled with the warmth of relief and the keening anguish of regret. It was Astarion, her Stary. The moon-glow of his hair, the scent of bergamot and brandy, his porcelain skin, the graceful way he carried himself like a prince or a feline. Both, really. It was all him. The recognition was a squeezing chain around her slender throat as the relief spilled into a confused whirlpool of terror and pain.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so-” Fi broke into body-wracking sobs as she curled in on herself and continued to mutter her apologies. Her tail curled tightly around her like a shield filled with shame as the knowledge of her once again losing herself came hand in hand with the returning of her normalized reality. Sasha adjusted to lean herself tightly against her tiefling mother, her long, wet kisses wiping away the blood on Fi’s hand. If it were not for Sasha, Fi didn’t know what she would have done to Astarion. She knew the elf would have allowed it, if it meant that his beloved would return to him.

Strong arms wrapped around Fianna by her waist and pulled her into his strong chest. Astarion whispered the sweetest of words into her frizzled hair, as he always did when her life pulled these wicked twists and jests. She buried herself into him, wishing that she could meld with his unbeating heart and lose herself forever within him, into the safety of his beautiful mind and out of her own.

She was poisoned, spoiled, rotten, and broken.

But he was here with her, and she believed her beloved’s promises of remaining by her side despite being so useless.

“There, there, my sweet. It’s over. Sasha’s here, I am here, and everything will be alright. I promise you.” Astarion pulled her even tighter against him as he lowered himself onto the bed, laying on his side and pulling her to fit her small body against his own. She cried into his chest, her hands balling into the crisp, white cloth of his shirt as she shrunk herself into a ball and this time, lost herself into the baneful sorrow that still yet plagued her well into her adulthood.

“It won’t stop. It’s just getting worse! I can’t live like this, Stary. I can’t put you all through this.” The words came out like a chortling stream filled with choked intonations and ragged gasps between.

“Darling, I choose this. I choose you. Weren’t you the one who stubbornly said that you wouldn’t leave my side for any reason? A pest like you wouldn’t even allow me to use the chamber pot in peace.”

“But I am leaving you. And I can’t control it. My mind is slipping, I’m forgetting days, forgetting who I am. Forgetting you. I can’t bear it any longer. Please, you’re not the only one who is losing someone. My children see this,” she motioned to herself and patted the back of Sasha’s back, who had laid down and nuzzled into her other side, “and don’t understand what is happening to me. And if you lose me, I lose you too.”

The silence was thick and heavy with the grief that played at their door. Astarion said nothing, a grimace on his face as he clenched the back of Fi’s head and planted kisses on the white of her crown. She felt the even strokes of his elegant fingers slipping through the locks of her hair, now grown from the nape of her neck down to the middle of her back. The strands splayed out behind her like fronds, mixing with the cream-white of Sasha’s fur as the wolf’s tail curled around the top of Fi’s head, Sasha’s own pointed towards their feet.

“I love you, my heart,” Astarion said, at last bending the silence between them. “We’ll find a way out of this, just like you’ve promised me that I’ll step in the sun again someday. I promise you, we’ll be happy. We’ve come too far for our little family to fall now. Besides, Karlach would never forgive me if I failed you. Us.” Words vanished from her mouth as soon as she pushed for them to spill. Instead, she nodded into the cold of his chest, rubbing her cheek against the tear-stained front of his shirt. Her tail curled around them both, and her mind spun with webs and webs of ideas, solutions, plans, anything at all that could help them both escape from the cruel fox’s trap their life had surrendered them to.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #astarion #tav #astarion x tav #bg3 #happy valentine's day #whoops #idk why i do this to my babies but i do #my tav #my writing

7 notes · View notes

blackjackkent · 2 months

Text

Open Your Eyes and It Will Blind You - Chapter 2

Pairing: Jaheira/Rasaad Characters: Jaheira, Rasaad, OC Bhaalspawn, Aerie, Imoen, Minsc Rating: G Warnings: None Descriptors: Angst, Avoidance, Almost Kiss, Moving On, Fix-It, Slow Burn Chapter Word Count: 3.8k Setting: Several years after BG2 TOB Summary: Years after the defeat of Irenicus and Melissan, Rasaad and Jaheira are both still haunted by the things they have lost. Neither of them is much good at opening up, despite the burgeoning feelings between them. But when Rasaad decides he must travel to Calimshan to face up to his brothers in Sun Soul, and she and their friends insist on accompanying them, the pair is forced to start to come to terms with their emotions, and what they want from the future. (Chap 2/?) Chapter Summary: Cute party shenanigans. Rasaad and Jaheira realize they have caught feelings and don't handle it very smoothly. read on ao3 | send me fic requests!

The party is in full swing. With the fall of the sun beneath the horizon, Faenya-Dail comes to life with light and cheerful voices calling to each other between the trees. The area around Caden and Aerie’s house is crowded with their guests, both local and visiting, and the forest echoes on itself with conversation and laughter.

Jaheira sits with her friends at a small table in a corner of the wide fenced yard. The Avariel wine in her glass has set a pleasant buzz going in her head, dulling her preoccupation and softening the edges of the world around her. A small smile tugs at her lips as she watches Minsc and Quayle dart around the yard, dashing at each other with sticks in a mock-battle.

“Aha! Minsc has you now!” Minsc calls dramatically with a wide grin. He swipes his stick lightly in the boy's direction, deliberately missing him off to one side.

Quayle giggles, poking back with his own “weapon” so it prods Minsc in the stomach. “No, I got you!”

Minsc gives a theatrical stagger. “Augh! Struck home indeed! But Quayle must have a battle cry to follow such a strike!”

The boy tilts his head questioningly.

“Minsc and Boo will show you, see? RAAAAAAAAARGH!” the berserker cries aloud, brandishing his stick above his head. He is echoed by a loud squeak from Boo on his shoulder.

Quayle grins. “Raaaargh!” he pipes up as loudly as he can, and smacks Minsc smartly on the arm with the stick.

“Ah!” Minsc laughs. “A sound as to make any monster cower in its dark lair and evil to have to change its underpants!”

Imoen snickers, gesturing at the two combatants with her mug of ale. “C'mon, Denny, you let the boy get to four years old and en't taught him a battle cry yet? What's wrong with you?”

“A grievous oversight, you're right,” Caden answers with amusement. He’s lounged down comfortably, leaning half out of his seat so his head can rest on Aerie’s shoulder as they watch their son. “Though I never had one during our adventures and we got by well enough.”

“And thankfully we've little call for them here,” Aerie adds. She lifts one hand and absently brushes her fingers through Caden’s hair.

“Nor never shall, we can most fervently hope,” Rasaad says softly.

Jaheira shoots him a look sideways. The monk is smiling as he raises his glass in toast to his own sentiment, but she can read just a flash of disquiet moving under the words.

You too feel as I do, then, she thinks ruefully. You see Suldanesselar in this place, and you remember the flames…

Read More on AO3

#baldur's gate fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfic #rasaad #rasaad yn bashir #jaheira #bg2 #baldur's gate 2 #baldurs gate 2 #baldur's gate #baldur's gate fic #open your eyes and it will blind you

6 notes · View notes

multific · 4 months

Text

Happiest - Short

Astarion x Reader

Summary: A short song of dance and a wedding.

Your face hurt from all the smiling, but you had your reasons.

It was your wedding day after all.

After exchanging vows with your beloved Astarion, everyone was quick to feast and dance. You sat at the table smiling at everyone who came over to congratulate you.

“Have you seen my husband?” you asked one of the guests who shook their head, no.

Astarion had seem to flee, it made you worried as you looked for him.

You finally found him standing by a huge cherry tree.

“If you have second thoughts, you should have ran away before the ceremony.” your voice made him turn around and look at you.

“My Darling, I’m not running, I just needed to be alone.”

“Oh, I’ll leave you then.” you wanted to turn but he quickly ran over and put his hands on your hips, keeping you close.

“Never leave me, Darling.”

“Then why do you look so sad on your own wedding?”

“Ah, you look stunning in this dress, and I want nothing more than to tear it off of you, but everyone in there stops me from doing it.” you saw the twinkle in his eyes but you could read him like an open book.

It was true, even you had to admit the dress which was made for you was a stunning piece, it had movement, yet it followed your shape perfectly.

Yet, you knew there was more.

“You should still enjoy your wedding, let us dance, sing and drink.” you suggested as Astarion smiled.

“I truly don’t deserve you.”

“We talked about this, My Love. You deserve it all and more. You deserve love and happiness. I’m just so happy to say that I am the one giving you all this love and more.”

“Thank you.” Astarion’s smile grew as his eyes shined. You knew deep down, his worries will never leave him. Even if he acted so confident, Astarion was rather fragile when it came to feelings. But it was okay.

You knew you would be there at every single moment he felt a slight doubt. And you will tell him that you love him.

You pulled him close and kissed him.

A shiver ran down your back as you and he felt the happiest in your entire life.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

352 notes · View notes

dutifullylazybread · 3 months

Link

Chapters: 4/32

Thank you so much for reading. This chapter is a bit of a behemoth, but I hope you enjoy all the same! :)

I think it goes without saying that you have a room here--anytime.

When Rolan and his family offered Tav a place to stay, she thought it would only be temporary--a few days at most. But the handsome master of Ramazith's Tower, grumpy as he was, seemed to have a soft spot for this exhausted adventurer.

And a brief respite soon became a permanent residence.

This fanfiction will be updated weekly!

Tags @adequate-superstar

45 notes · View notes

lenkalost · 3 months

Text

When Gale consumes the third magical artefact without considerable effect, he decides to tell Tilia, the leader of their little troupe, the truth about his condition, his past and himself. He knows this means his certain expulsion, and is more than surprised to find Tilia not reacting like he had anticipated.

Hey folks! This one was inspired by prompt 18 of the BG3FicFeb-challenge, "Angst with a happy ending". For me, Gale is one of the most fascinating companions, and I love to explore his scenes, analyze his behaviour and motifs, and develop the relationship between him and my druid Tav, Tilia. For this one-shot, I took his in-game confession scene and built up on it. I hope you enjoy it. Every kudos and comment means the world to me! A special shoutout - as always - to @akhuna, who beta-read this story (and gave me such heart-warming feedback).

#Gale Dekarios #Baldur's Gate 3 #bg 3 #BG3FicFeb #Baldur's Gate fanfic #bg 3 fanfic #Gale of Waterdeep #bg 3 oc #named tav #druid tav #Astarion #Lae'zel #mention of Mystra #propensity towards verbosity #my writing

6 notes · View notes

slothquisitor · 5 months

Text

Heroes and Villains

"Astarion thinks he might have found these sorts of discussions compelling, once. In a time before, when it might have mattered. Morality is a luxury only afforded to those with actual choices. For so long, morality was just another obstacle keeping him from grasping whatever meager scraps of comfort were available, so he tried not to trouble himself too much about it." Recommended listening: Villain by Searows. Astarion x Liv, 4.7k.

Also on AO3.

____________________________________________________________

The Emperor is in her head, and it will not save Jaheira’s friend. She is tired, wounded from the battle, and Jaheira is yelling even as Minsc fights their tadpole connection. It feels as it always does, an invasion, a violation. Images and memories that are not her own flash through her mind.

She hates the way the tadpoles connect them all, taking memories and trading them around without thought or concern. She tries to fight it, but more memories come and she knows that Minsc is seeing her own as well.

She had never considered that the Emperor would say no to this, that the protection offered so readily to Duke Ravengard, to each of her other companions, wouldn’t extend to another. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t feel right . She is missing something, but she’s just not sure what.

“We need all the help we can get, you told me to gather allies. Please, just help him!”

“Don’t be foolish. He is too unpredictable. He will only be a hindrance to us,” the Emperor replies.

Jaheira shakes her head. “The mindflayer pours poison into your ear, I think. Tell it I will tear the prism from your grasp and throw it into the deepest lava pit I can find. Long after our bones are dust and ash, the walls of its prison will still be burning. Now help my friend!”

The Emperor believes Jaheira to be bluffing, but Liv doesn’t care if she is or she isn’t. She doesn’t agree with the Emperor’s assessment. Especially when its only argument is Minsc being too unpredictable, too chaotic. Having to coerce it into doing this leaves a sour taste in her mouth. There’s something familiar about the tone used, something she can’t quite place, but feels like she knows. In the end, it agrees, but the disappointment in her is palpable. As if she is the one in the wrong here. It is not the first time that she’s questioned this alliance of theirs, but it is the first time that she feels how fragile it might be.

But then, Minsc is saved and Jaheira is grateful, and Liv has helped . It is almost enough to banish her worries about the Emperor. But then talking with Minsc reveals the Zhentarim’s plot. They mean to overthrow Nine-Fingers, and Liv could kick herself for not realizing that the Zhentarim haven’t just thrown their lot in with the Absolute for profit, but have perfectly set themselves up for a coup since they’re the Guild’s fighting force. And if Nine-Fingers is in danger…that means Percy is too.

Like so many things, it’s not exactly their problem to solve, but no one questions her when she suggests they hurry to the guild hall. Worry gnaws at her the whole way. What if they are too late? What if Percy is caught in all of this?

When they arrive to the guild hall, it is sheer chaos. Fighting has broken out in every corner, wreathed by darkness it’s hard to tell who is who. But Liv rushes in anyway, determined to find her brother, to keep him safe, to help. She’s not sure exactly why she cares so much. The last time she saw him she had told him she wasn’t sure she even wanted a relationship with him, thought it would be better not to continue with any expectations.

She doesn’t regret saying it, putting that distance between them so that she could have space to figure this thing out, but there’s a part of her that worries that he won’t survive this and then she’ll never know whether they could have found some way to be a family. He knows the dangers she’s throwing herself into every day too, is it possible he has those same worries? It seems far too much to hope.

She and Minsc, Astarion and Jaheira wade into the the fray. She has to be careful as she targets her magic not to catch members of the guild unaware, but as she tosses flame bolts and lines up lightning, she catches the eye of several grateful folks, looking more than a little ragged. Nine-Fingers had said herself that the Guild was no fighting force, and it shows as the Zhentarim cut through their defenses. Nine-Fingers is caught in the fray too, throwing knives at the very force she’d brought in to protect her people.

Liv is breathing hard, racing up the wooden steps tossing magic as carefully as she can. At the top of the stairs, there is a group of Guild members unsuccessfully trying to parry the unwavering assault of a Zhentarim swordsman. Her lightning chains through him to another fighter, armed to the teeth with knives. They both fall, bodies twitching.

Beside her, a figure emerges from the darkness, as if they have stepped directly from the shadows. “What in the hells are you doing here?” Percy asks.

The relief that fills her is a short-lived thing, something she can barely focus on before throwing a shield up and hearing the soft thunk as an arrow plunks harmlessly off it. She’d seen the glimmer of the bolt just in time. “Saving your ass. What does it look like?”

Percy shakes his head in confusion. “How did you even know?”

Liv gestures across the hall towards Minsc. “Turns out the Stone Lord wasn’t really operating on his own free will. The Zhentarim are aligned with the cultists as well.”

Percy throws a knife with deadly accuracy at an enemy, barely looking at her. “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“I think the exit is clear, you can make a break for it,” Liv says, tossing a firebolt at an archer aiming for Astarion.

Percy glares at her. “These are my people. My friends. I’m not going anywhere until every last Zhent bastard is dead.” His words are laced with protective fury she didn’t realize he was capable of.

“Yeah, okay,” Liv says unsure how else to respond. “What can we do? You know this space better than me.”

Percy scans the room quickly. “Those archers are a problem.” High on the scaffolding, Zhentarim archers shoot down into the fighting, slowly picking off Guild members completely unchallenged. He turns to her and grins. “How’s your close-combat fighting?”

She’s got spells for that. “Fine enough.”

“Then let’s go.” Percy grabs her hand, and they step directly into the shadows. For a heartstopping moment, there is nothing but darkness around them, and then they emerge, as if out of a doorway, directly behind the archers.

She doesn’t hesitate, and neither does Percy. When the archers are dead, she and Percy return to the lower levels going their separate ways as they make their way across this makeshift battlefield. The tide is turning in the fight, and for that she is grateful.

The buzz of battle always feels somehow eternal, though Liv knows that’s not the case. But finally, the last arrow flies and the battle is done and quiet falls within the guild hall as if everyone is truly wondering if it’s really over. And then the cheers rise up like heat on a summer’s day, slowly at first, but then louder. The folks of the guild aren’t used to open battle like this, to working in synchronization with each other. There’s a comradery in the room that she didn’t notice before, the existence of a shared enemy uniting the disparate groups.

She watches her brother check in on his people, his friends. Watches the concern and the worry in every line of his face, and feels a wave of resentment rise up within her. Who are these people who deserve care and worry and concern from her brother? Is it unforgivably selfish of her to have wanted some of that worry and concern? He hasn’t even spoken to her since the battle ended. But then she was the one who told him that it would be better if they didn’t have expectations of each other. And yet...

“Are you alright?” Astarion asks as he approaches. His gaze roves over her, clearly taking stock of any injuries. He gently steers her out of the way of two guild members carrying another, his hand lightly on her back. “I lost sight of you for a moment.”

“Percy took me up to take care of the archers.”

Astarion frowns. “Strategic of him.” Astarion has been clear about his feelings in regard to her brother, her family, and there’s a part of her that doesn’t exactly disagree. There’s a part of her that wonders if he’s right, that maybe they shouldn’t have come here at all.

“Yeah,” she replies, still watching her brother move between groups, care and concern etched into every line of his face. Was he always capable of kindness?

There is something invariably depressing about this realization, that perhaps if she’d been different, more observant, said the clever thing, asked the right questions, left that house sooner. That she wouldn’t be discovering all this about her brother now. She wants to rush over to him, bombard him with questions. Where was this gentleness when her sister died? When she wept over the burns her mother’s magic left behind?

But it’s not the time. She cannot afford to fall apart now. Cannot afford to fall apart here. Later, perhaps she can be angry or sad or whatever these tangled feelings are, but she cannot do it now. So she tears her gaze away from her brother, sees Nine-Fingers standing across the hall. She is battle-bloodied and stone-faced, surveying the damage.

Her eyes fall on Liv. “Why don’t we have a chat in my office?” The words are filled with a quietly contained rage. It is not a request. She looks to one of her ladies and raises her voice loud enough that it booms in the hall. “Enough gawking. There’s a mess here to clean up.”

There is no hesitation from the members of the guild, from her court. Nine-Fingers stalks up the steps toward her office and everyone jumps to work. Liv, Minsc, Jaheira, and Astarion trail her up the steps and into her dimly lit office. The doors close ominously behind them.

Nine-Fingers stands at her desk, daggers still drawn. She turns to them as they enter, glaring at them all, challenge in her eyes.“The Zhent are down - just you and me now, Stone Lord. So if you mean to take my chair, you’ll get no better chance than this.”

Minsc shifts uncomfortably, but shifts easily into a fighting stance. “Minsc has no interest in your furniture, Nine-Fingers - only in the wicked rump that fills it!”

Nine-Fingers looks towards Liv, face twisted in confusion. “....What?”

“You have been a stone in this city’s boot for too long. And it will be no Stone Lord who reaches ‘twixt Balduran’s sticky toes to dislodge you - it will be Minsc!”

Nine-Fingers sighs and sheaths her knives, clearly deciding that despite Minsc’s threats, the fighting is done. “I haven’t got the slightest idea what he’s trying to say.”

“Proof that he is back to normal, no?” Jaheira interjects.

Liv jumps in to defuse the situation. “He was under the sway of the Absolute, tadpoled same as the rest of us. Everything he did as the Stone Lord wasn’t his choice. He’s protected now and the Stone Lord is no more.”

Nine-Fingers laughs, crossing her arms. “Good. I’d rather you die as Minsc the mad Rashemaar. It’s silly, but d’you know you were something of a hero of mine when I was young?”

Minsc shakes his head. “Even now, your tongue twists the truth. When you were young and ten-fingered still, Minsc and Boo- were stone estatuated in a city square!”

“Aye, I remember the spot - by a garden on the Wide. A soft thicket near the market, with ample pockets to pick. Celestia itself, to a street rat looking for shelter. You might not have been wrestling monsters, but...you kept the wind and rain off. Heroic enough for me,” Nine-Fingers shrugs. Liv can see the strategy here, but she suspects there’s some kernel of truth to the story.

Minsc shakes his head. “Bah! You try to dampen Boo’s eyes. Do not think you will be spared his teeth. Evil is evil…even if it once was…innocent.”

Nine-Fingers lifts up both hands. “Oh, I’m no innocent. But evil? You tell me. With the Fist, the watch, and the council itself licking the Absolute’s boots, who’s the only one left standing to protect Baldur’s Gate?”

Jaheira nods. “She’s right, Minsc. She’s been an ally down through the years. A friend, even.”

“A friend? Jaheira, Boo cannot believe his ears. Has the city fallen so far in our absence? Are there no heroes left?”

Nine-Fingers steps closer, eyes narrowed. “Heroes come and go, but the Guild has always been here, protecting the city. Until the Stone Lord came to break us.”

Liv looks between the guild master and the massive ranger, she’s had enough conflict today. “Minsc, the Guild will fight with us. We just have to let them.”

Minsc nods, but his face twists in sadness. “I am ashamed. Nydeska , unworthy to fight alongside my friends. Boo, what am I to do?”

Nine-Fingers has her opening and she takes it. “I can’t speak for your rodent, but I know something of debts. If you reckon you’ve got one to repay…well, we could always work together. We’ve got bigger enemies than one another. The city’s enemies. And, honest truth? You gave my Guild the wake-up call it needed. We’ve grown complacent, lazy. We never would’ve needed the Zhent if we’d had a fighting force of our own. Swords for the city, for when the Fist and watch fail us.”

Liv watches Minsc struggle with his ideals and accepting a deal with Nine-Fingers that fits within them, but eventually they do come to an accord. After dealing with the Absolute, Minsc will help protect Nine-Fingers, get a fighting force in shape. It means that Minsc will be keeping an eye on the Guild, and Nine-Fingers gets a better fighting force. Everyone wins.

Eventually, Nine-Fingers turns toward her. “With the Stone Lord off my back, I’ll be able to bring my people out of hiding. Cobble together a force, so we’re ready when you call on us.”

“I appreciate that.”

Nine-Fingers nods. “You have my thanks. Though I’m still not actually sure you haven’t made my life that little bit harder. Must run in the family.” The last bit sounds almost approving, but then Nine-Fingers sits down at her desk a little stiffly, the exhaustion clear, her mask slipping just a bit. “Now get the hells out of my office. You’ve brought me enough trouble for one day.”

As they exit, Jaheira steps close. “We shouldn’t linger. I don’t know that many know the Stone Lord’s identity, but I can’t imagine this alliance will go over well if anyone does.”

Liv nods. “Of course…I just…I’d like to talk to my brother before we go.”

Jaheira looks like she wants to argue but thinks better of it. “Of course.”

Percy is easy to find, he’s helping the injured into the tavern area where the Guild’s healers are doing their best to patch everyone up. It’s still surprising, so at odds with the person she thought he was. She’s not really sure what she’s here to say…only that she thinks that something needs saying.

He notices her approach as he finishes half-carrying a half-orc over to a chair. He sets the man down before approaching. “You heading out?” he asks.

Liv crosses her arms just to have something to do with them. “Yeah, but I wanted to check-in? Are you alright?”

Percy runs his hand over his jaw and glances around the room. “This is….uh…this is as close to a home as I’ve got, and Zhent attacked us in it today…so, no.”

That’s fair. It was probably a stupid question. “I’m sorry. We came as soon as we knew-”

He holds up a hand stopping her words. “I don’t doubt it. You didn’t have to, but you did anyway. Thank you.” There’s a heaviness weighing down each word, but there’s no double-talk, it feels genuine.

She wants to be better at this, at knowing what to do now. “I should go. Let you get back to taking care of your people.” She hopes he can’t hear her confusion, the bitterness she can’t quite seem to let go of.

He stares at her for a long moment before shaking his head. “Of course.” But then he steps close, for a moment she thinks he might reach for her. For a moment, she thinks she might want him to, might want the comfort of her older brother, whatever that might look like. Instead, he stops short. “I don’t know what Nine-Fingers promised you, but I’m with you. When you call, I’ll be there.”

It’s more than she ever expected; it’s not quite enough. “Thank you.”

He turns away then, going back to his people, to help them pick up the pieces. She leaves and tells herself it isn’t a retreat. Tells herself that it’s fine that this is something she might never see fixed.

The fire is bright and warm, and Astarion has a new book. He plucked it from a shelf in the Stone Lord’s little sewer hideout. It’s a romance, and a badly written one at that. It’s so bad it’s entertaining. He dog ears the pages with the cheesiest lines, intending to show Liv as soon as she joins him for the evening. She desperately needs a laugh after the day they’ve had, crawling through sewers and getting caught in power plays. And dealing with that brother of hers.

He’s not sure that they made the right call today, sticking their noses in the Guild’s mess with the Zhentarim. Seems like a good way to make enemies they won’t even know they have until it’s too late. But Liv had wanted to rush in anyway to save her brother. He hopes Percy realizes how lucky he is that she gives a shit. That she keeps handing him chances.

He doesn’t know what Liv was thinking today, but there was something about watching her brother after the battle that had shaken her somehow. He’s still trying to decide if she’s going to bring it up or if he’ll need to.

It will have to wait, as Liv has been waylaid by their new companion. Astarion doesn’t mean to be eavesdropping on their conversation, but it’s hard not to. Minsc’s loudness is perhaps only rivaled by Karlach’s. His voice booms out across the room, and whether Astarion wants to or not, he hears every single word.

“I wished to believe the Stone Lord’s evil was the worm alone, a-tainting my thoughts with foul dung. But I see now, the dung was within Minsc all along. So I wonder, if Minsc can be a villain, and Nine-Fingers a hero: must it be so with all creatures? Is there good and evil within us all? Heh. Boo calls this nonsense. Less thinking of bad thoughts, says he, and more breaking of bad bones. But still - I would hear what you have to say on the matter, my friend.”

Astarion thinks he might have found these sorts of discussions compelling, once. In a time before, when it might have mattered. Morality is a luxury only afforded to those with actual choices. For so long, morality was just another obstacle keeping him from grasping whatever meager scraps of comfort were available, so he tried not to trouble himself too much about it.

But now? Now he is free, truly free, and he’s not sure what he believes in. He’s not sure where he fits on the spectrum of hero to villain.

It takes Liv a moment to respond to Minsc, it’s clear that she’s considering her response carefully. “I think we all have the capacity for good and bad. I don’t think that it’s as simple as villains and heroes though, it’s a lot of shades of gray.”

Minsc laughs his booming laugh. “Minsc does not believe there are these ‘shades’ when it comes to evil. Evil is evil!”

“Maybe sometimes. And maybe sometimes we try to do the right thing, and end up hurting people instead.”

“You mean like with Minsc as the Stone Lord? Minsc tried to do a good thing, destroy the cult! Instead, he got tadpoled and puppeted around by the Absolute.”

Liv’s voice doesn’t sound entirely sure. “Kind of like that, yeah.”

Or perhaps she means that it is more like insisting on completing an infernal ritual that would have killed seven thousand people? He hadn’t done it, but he had wanted to, and do wants and desires factor into goodness or is it just actions? He doesn’t want this, these questions he’s not sure what to do with. He’ll go read elsewhere then, farther away in hopes that he doesn’t have to listen in, doesn’t have to question. Doesn’t have to find himself at a loss about who he should be now.

He snaps his book shut, and wanders over to the bed he and Liv have been sharing. The one he thinks of as hers, but not his. His is over in a shared alcove with Gale, and while his things live there, he almost never is. He supposes he could move them, but he likes the idea of still having his own space, a place to retreat to, even if he doesn’t necessarily use it. It feels like an extravagance, and he gets comfortable, opening up the book once more and trying to tune out the voices around.

It isn’t long before Liv joins him, looking tired. He smiles at her. “Sounds like you and Minsc were having quite the lively conversation. Tell me, have you figured out if the rodent is actually conversing with him or is he just mad?”

Liv gives him a hard look. “Be nice. We need all the allies we can get.”

Astarion feigns offense. “I’m always nice.” It earns him a smile.

“There was something…though…I wanted to discuss,” Liv says, words quiet and unsure.

He shifts his legs, making space for her to join him on the bed. “I’m all pointy ears, my love.”

She sits down, hands twisting together in her lap, but she doesn’t speak for a long moment. The silence drags on, but he waits her out. “Did you find it odd that the Emperor didn’t want to extend its protection to Minsc?”

It’s not the question he’s expecting, and not just because there are so many other things that happened today that he expected to be on her mind. They so rarely discuss the inhabitant of the Astral Prism, but he knows she doesn’t trust it. Hasn’t since she discovered that their protection is dependent on Orpheus’s continued captivity, that the dreams they shared and the protector they believed to be helping was really a mindflayer. He knows she feels watched like the Emperor is always listening in. They cannot change it, so they don’t discuss it.

“I hadn’t thought much of it,” Astarion answers truthfully. “But I suppose it does seem odd considering how quick it was to protect Wyll’s father. The rodent conversing aside, Minsc is a hero of the city.”

Liv looks relieved. “Okay, I’m glad I’m not the only one then. I just…I feel like I’m missing something. Something’s not adding up…and then there’s the Duke Stelmane thing…”

She had shown him the book she’d found immediately, about Stelmane’s condition, about a visitor that came to her rooms. They hadn’t talked about it, worried that deep in the Emperor’s old hideout they were being watched. Like many things these days, they don’t have much choice but trusting the Emperor, since their continued existence and people and not mindflayers is due to its intervention.

Astarion reaches over and untangles her hands, holding one gently in what he hopes feels reassuring. “Like you said, we need all the allies we can get. Shades of gray, hmmm?” He hopes she catches his meaning without coming right out and saying it.

She nods in acknowledgment. It is not so simple as heroes and villains. It never was.

“Is it still trying to get you to use the tadpole?” he asks. This conversation still feels precarious, but he wants to know. The Emperor has tried to make inroads with them all, but Liv has always been the sole recipient of its attention since it revealed its true nature. He doesn’t miss the dreams, the mysterious Guardian promising him power.

“Sometimes it reminds me of my mother,” Liv says, words careful. An innocuous enough comment for almost anyone but her. She’ll never touch the tadpole she was given. That was the Emperor’s first mistake: making it about power. Liv is terrified of power and of the way that it corrupts. He disagrees of course, but that’s a discussion between the two of them that never seems to go anywhere.

He pulls her into him, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t worry, we’ve got Minsc and a miniature giant space hamster on our side now. We can’t possibly lose.”

She laughs. “Don’t forget that the Guild too.”

“Criminals and thieves. Who could ask for better company?”

She doesn’t reply and instead leans more fully into him, and he is grateful for the simplicity of it, the comforting reassurance that though they don’t have all the answers, they do have each other.

“Did you mean what you said to Minsc?” he asks.

Liv twists a bit so she can look up at him. “What thing?”

“About everyone having the capacity for good and bad?”

“Yes. I meant it.” Her eyes are searching his, looking for something, but he’s not sure what she might find, he’s not even sure himself why this has become so important to him tonight.

“How are you so sure?”

It’s clearly not the question she’s expecting, her eyebrows raise a bit in surprise. “I…I suppose…” She pauses as she considers. “Because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen good people do bad things; bad people do good things. It’s…complicated, isn’t it? I mean, I try to be a good person-”

“You are.” He’s not sure of much, but of that he is sure.

“But I’m not always sure that I’m making the right decisions every day. Sometimes right and wrong aren’t quite as clear-cut as I’d like them to be. I don’t know…I guess that’s why I’m always giving people more chances than they maybe deserve.”

He considers her answer, it’s thoughtful, if a little rueful. So he offers up a truth of his own. “I’m not sure what I believe. I’m not sure I care, really.” The last part rings false as he says it. He wishes it didn’t. It would be so nice, not to care.

“When I left my family, I was so lost. I had spent so much time fighting against them, being consumed by their actions and thoughts and expectations…I don’t think I really cemented what I believed until I stumbled off that nautiloid and I had the chance to start over.”

The confession surprises him. Oh, she’s told him of her insecurities from those early days, but he hadn’t considered that beneath her unflappable exterior, she might have been just as unsure as he feels now.

“I would never have guessed.”

“I don’t think that’s as comforting now as it would have been to me then. The rest of it will come, Astarion. If it’s important to you.”

“If you say ‘give it time’, I’m leaving,” he says, but he’s not at all serious. He’s just tired of the same refrain, of needing time. He’s never been patient, but the more he discovers he needs to reclaim in his own life, the less he’s willing to wait.

Liv sighs. “How about, ‘if we all die to the elder brain, it doesn’t matter anyway’?” She says it with a smile, a sarcastic lilt to her voice. But he catches an undercurrent of something, a kernel of truth nestled in the joke. He wonders what she’s pushing down, what she’s holding off dealing with.

But he doesn’t call her on it, not tonight. Instead, he cups her face and leans down to kiss her. “And isn’t that the most comforting of sentiments,” he says, smiling against her lips.

But hells, he’s never wished more for her to be wrong.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfic #astarion x liv #bright lost things #slothquisitorwrites

9 notes · View notes