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secret-smut-sideblog · 5 months

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Distances Travelled (Part 3)

18+ SA, trauma responses: nonverbal and freeze, violence, implied trauma, self loathing/doubt, discrimination, softness, hurt/comfort, shared feelings, yearning

Astarion X F! Plus Sized Tav

listening to: We'll Never Have Sex - Leith Ross, To Someone From A Warm Climate - Hozier

(for real this one is heavy so travel lightly)

"...Tav?" His voice was hesitant at her back.

A bone deep tremor was running uncontrolled through her. Breath uneven and rasping.

He had never seen her lose composure like this, a quivering mess. It sent a frightened arrow through him.

"I'm okay, I don't-" She tried to wave him away as he hovered over her, uncertain. Her hand trembled. "Dont worry Star. Just.. just give me a moment."

His eyes were unable to not dart to the unconscious bleeding man on the ground.

They had been travelling together for a season now, the heat blessedly giving way to a welcome chill. In that time he had come to be quite fond of her, despite himself.

While yes he had sought out to avoid her, keep his distance, she had over time warmed his glacial waters. He would even still take blood from her but it never felt as uncontrolled as that night. More.. comfortable. Familiar.

Though the memory of that night still.. shook him, it did bring a new development. They had struck up a flirty rapport as that ice had fractured that night as well.

She was still the stalwart figure for the rest of the camp, a pillar of strength and certainty, but she would throw a little wink at him when the others were distracted with bickering. A pinch to his hip as she past, ducking out of reach like a bounding deer when he reached out to retaliate.

They had even begun to compete for the most terribly saccharine pet name, throwing them back and forth to eachother making anyone of their companions in earshot groan. One time she had snuck up on him and threw her shoe at his side, before he could react she was scampering away, the biggest smile splitting her face, her laugh leading him to the chase.

He had come to treasure her laugh, three bright bells. A rare sound. It tumbled out of her loud and always seemed to catch her off guard when it happened. Which often made her laugh harder.

It felt... good. Silly, innocent, like adolescent playing. Something he might have done with a childhood friend when he was still fresh to the world.

Gift after gift she gave him.

In small moments to himself, he still felt an amorous tug towards her. Though it in some way only deepened his fondness. That they could have shared something so primal and still have this brightness.

And, most shocking to himself, he had begun to open up to her. Slowly pulling back the wretched curtain of his past, every admission a fearful prayer for.. what exactly? Acceptance? Forgiveness? He was never sure.

But somehow, miraculously, every piece he gave her she held warm to her chest. Though the revealing filled him with dread it made it feel lighter. It would never stop hurting completely, he knew deep down. But he was grateful for the small relief.

All of this felt terribly new to him, and sometimes the depth of it scared him. A buzzing anxiety starting in the corner of his vision, but then she would find his eyes and in silliness cross them at him and it would dissipate.

On late nights they laid awake talking, both laying flat on their back, their bed rolls parallel. The rest of the camp would have long said their goodnights and it was just them. He lived in those nights, when it was hushed conversations and a perfect solitude. It felt like a precious secret, one he was unwilling to share. A joy would spark when he would hear the fabric of his tent raise, her green eyes asking for entry, dragging her bedroll to lay next to his.

After one particularly painful recounting he felt her hand flutter over his, then pull back, uncertain. She knew now his prickling around touch and it softened him to know that she had considered him.

He reached out for her retreating hand and slid it into his. They lay in comfortable silence like that, their joined hands a single cord, the bugs chirping outside the cocoon of his tent.

When they reached a village in the aftermath of a rather arduous trek, the group decided to treat themselves to some drink and some revelry. Tav had even rented rooms for the night, her treat. It was a much needed reprieve and the party took to it like a house on fire.

Though the night was uproarious, something had come to bother him again.

It was not an uncommon occurrence, the way people reacted to Tav being Drow. Though she did not have the crimson eyes of a Lolth-sworn, many still gave her a wide berth, whispering behind their hands. Occasionally a particularly ignorant twat would approach her and say some insipid, thinly veiled insult. It made Astarion's blood boil but it slid over her like water over a bird's back. She was used to it, she had explained to him, people do not know what they do.

But the other demographic that would approach her was more.. untoward.

The reputation of Drow women made men feel bold to proposition her. Insinuating. Prodding.

She was rather skilled at deflecting these unwanted advances, but he could still see the stiffness in her shoulders, the subtle clench in her jaw.

That night, as their companions let loose, he saw one of these advances from across the room. He felt a pull to intervene, but Tav had always insisted I've got this with her eyes when his would narrow.

They had planned to meet up later as she had some rounds to make, looking for information from the residents.

After a while he lost sight of her stark black hair and the noise and crowd began tiring him, he decided to go on a walk. The night air outside the tavern was crisp and did wonders for his mood. Twirling a coin in his fingers absentmindedly he began his stroll around the property. He didn't get very far until he heard a muffled commotion from an alley. Peeking his head in mischievously he assumed to see a lovers tryst.

What he saw made his blood ice over.

Tav was pressed against the brick of the tavern wall, a tall brute of a man wrestling control with her to pin her there. His lecherous hands reaching for her blouse. She didn't make a sound as he roughly groped her. A darkness, a deadness in her always warm eyes. In a flash the dagger she had hidden on her person sank into him, hard. Enough foresight to go for non-lethal strike, she rode his body down and twisted it, again and again. A unbridled brutality overtaking her, eyes burning with with silent fury.

It all happened so fast neither the man or Astarion had time to react before she had smashed the hilt of her blade against his skull, knocking him out.

He stood in cold shock at the mouth of the alley, her wavering breaths the only sound he could hear. A disgust with himself as his mouth instinctually watered at the blood in the air.

The rage seemed to seep out of her eyes in the silence, still gripping the bloodied blade she slowly doubled over onto herself. What looked like supressed sobs rhythmically shook her frame. Arms wrapping around, gripping her back.

His heart ached as he stepped forward, every part of him wanting to help, wanting to rip that mans waste of a throat out of his worthless body with his fucking teeth, but wretchedly untrained for this he stood in apprehension. This was Tav's territory, he thought selfishly, he didnt know how to console. Well, not in the way she needed.

"Tav?"

She froze. She began wiping her face quickly, her fingers rough. Attempted to rise but her legs seemed to catch, trying again, leaning on her hands. His face crumpled with worry. Rushed forward now, alarmed by how she was immediately putting up a front for him. "...Tav?"

"I'm okay, I don't-" her voice so low almost regained but wavered. "Dont worry Star. Just.. just give me a moment."

The pet name struck through him like a shot, she had never called him that before and the Godsdamned brave face she was putting on for him propelled him forward.

With a thoughtless drive he wrapped his arms around her, catching her under her arms and holding her tightly into him.

Doing for her what he had prayed for so many torturous nights.

He felt her breath catch wet in her throat as he embraced her, arms hovering out, dagger still unconsciously locked into her fist.

Slowly, she released it. Clattering to the cobblestone. Her arms settling limp onto his back, her frame still tremoring with stifled sobs. She laid her head into the crook of his neck, feeling a dampness spread in his collar. She was still so worringly quiet but her shaking had slowed.

"Can you move darling?" She nodded against his ear and he began to help her to her feet. He wanted badly to carry her but didn't know her boundaries in this moment.

She was avoiding his eyes, keeping her face low. A pang of recognition hit him, a mirror of the shame he had learned, had come to know so intimately. Something taught. A wound opened in his chest for her.

As they walked he realized that in all of their talks, all of his revealing of his shadows, she had never really divulged into her past. Sure she had talked about it but made it out to be mostly uninteresting. A childhood, an adolescence, brief talks about the Underdark. Even joking that if they had failed to find a cure for his sun sickness they could share a terrible little corner of a mushroom together down there. She was used to the dark, she winked.

He felt sick with himself, with his failing her. That his inexperience in, well, everything had left him blind to her suffering. Put her in a place where she felt she needed to shield him.

They made slow progress to the rented rooms, passersby's assuming she was intoxicated and being helped up by a friend, paying them no mind.

He closed the door to his room behind them with the back of his heel, leading her in. Unsure where to help her down he decided on the bed. She still hadn't spoken beyond those shaky reassurances and it was scaring him.

Gently he lowered her down and not knowing what else to do, kneeled down in front of her, trying to catch her eyes.

Dark with tear stains, bloodshot, she looked at her limp hands.

"My sweet, please look at me," he whispered, reaching up an uncertain hand to cup her cheek. Seeking out their secret language, things shared between eyes. Hers fluttered close, allowing herself to lean into his palm.

Then finally, blessedly, looked into his eyes. Two deep forest wells of grief met him, tears threatening to spill over the edges.

She took a shaky hiccuping breath in, "I'm sorry, I didnt mean to scare-"

His fingers slid over her mouth, silencing her as gently as he could. How dare she apologize to him, after everything.

He pulled back his digits, realizing that he didn't know if she wanted this touch. Her hand reached behind his neck and pulled him desperate to her.

She pressed her forehead against his and nuzzled down into his neck, he hoped finding solace there. If there were any Gods left worth a damn he was sending every prayer, sending it all to her. She was too good, to kind, too brave. An ever burning light.

Her hand softly traced his face as she pulled away, a small sad smile edging her lips. He stared up at her, at a loss for words again. Admonishing his inability.

"I'll be alright," she whispered to his worried eyes. "Just. Please stay with me, okay?"

He nodded, happy to have her speaking again, to know how to help.

She took his hand and crawled up into the bed, laying on her side. He wrapped himself around her back easily, her body slotting so well into his. The soft smell of jasmine in her hair. The spreading warmth of her skin against his cold body. He melted into her. They lay quiet, just the sound of melded bodies and before he knew it he fell into a deep sleep.

His body held hers as she listened to the insect song from the open window. His breath was slow and even, though he didnt need to breathe it seemed his body still remembers the routine of sleep. The sound of it was an anchor, his arm cold water cupping around her, a balm. She laid awake, stifling the treacherous tears that still leaked down the side of her face. Trying to be quiet as not to rouse him from his peace.

Through watery vision she looked at him reverently. The sweet sight of him holding back the nauseating memories threatening to overtake her. He rarely slept, as did she, and it felt like a intimate secret to witness.

Crimson eyes closed, his long lashes kissing his skin. The furrow in his brow relaxed. That pouty mouth she adored slightly open, soft cool air moving in and out like the tide. The way his hair curled perfectly around his ear.

She turned gently under him and with feather light touch tucked it behind his ear, a wet hiccup caught in her chest. He moaned softly and a small smile and a sigh slipped from his sleep.

She realized that she loved him. That she had for a while. It felt bright against her chest. Another tender secret that she coveted.

She pulled herself to him, cradling his long legs under hers. Wrapping his wide back into her chest, snaking her arm under his and pressing her hand soft into his chest. The silken curl of his hair against her nuzzling nose, the heady scent of bergamot and citrus.

His sleeping body moved naturally to this, like it was designed to be held by her. He sighed contentedly in his sleep.

She finally let her tender stinging eyes close, praying to live in this moment for a little longer. That the Gods would allow her the slowing of morning.

Part 4

#haaa get falling in love idiots #i might get into Tav's past more in the next one but honestly im still working it out #i should probably masterlist these huh #astarion x plus sized tav #astarion #astarion smut

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