Archive of Our Own

Halla opened the valise  feeling self conscious as Astarion looked over her shoulder. The paltry collection of all her worldly possessions were out on display. 

The fancy second hand clothes she used for gigs, scribbled drafts she never got around to finishing, loaded dice, a marked deck of cards, a couple of tarnished rings, a coin purse with more air than gold, a few quill pens, and her disguise kit.  

Clearing her throat she pulled out the kit. It was an unassuming wooden box, similar to what an artist stored their brushes and paints in. "This is what I was after." 

" A makeup kit? Like the circus was selling?" 

"Sort of." She opened the wooden box pulling put the layers to reveal its contents. Bottles of hair dye in an upper tray, some temporary, some more permanent. A fake pair of spectacles, an eye patch, a set of fake beauty spots and moles, an eye brow pencil. The other tray contained packets of papers, fake identities, writs of passage with official looking seals, a paper claiming the bearer to be an authorized servant of Kelemvor. 

The vampire eyed the papers and reached over her shoulder to pick up a bundle of them. "What in the world?"

"I told you I was a con." She said defensively. 

"So you said. I just didn't realize you meant…formally."  He said flipping through the papers.

"Semi retired.” she said hastily. “I don't have sources or contacts for this sort of work here. So I went back to busking." Music was hardly a steady job but the catastrophe with the syndicate had soured her on working for a larger organization. 

She'd kept a low profile in the Gate, low pay but lower risk catching The Guild's attention. No one was going to pull the rug out from under her again.

"How many fake names are in here?" He asked, flipping through the bundle. He squinted at a forged certification saying ‘Lorevel Waterweaver’ was a full paying member of the printers guild in Waterdeep. "Why would you even need to pretend to be a printer? Or a-" he pulled out another “herbalist? Who needs paperwork to be an herbalist?" 

"Secomber was having a problem with poisoning. The Rods limited who could purchase ‘dangerous’ ingredients." She had made a quick coin selling poppy milk and fey shrooms at a markup for a while. 

"Wait…” he looked up from the handful of lies.”Have we been living a lie?" He asked his tone less accusatory and more amused. "Have you been lying to me this whole time?" 

Halla frowned. She had been uncertain how he'd handle this. On one hand they'd been inside each other's heads and on the other, she'd just revealed to him the facets of her life as a career criminal. "About what? None of this changes ho-"

He cut her off, "All this time…is your name even Halla?" 

Oh . "It is.” she insisted.  “Close enough anyway. " she added hastily.

Astarion raised an eyebrow waiting for her to explain herself.

"Halla's just shorter. It's easier to say than the full thing. I haven't gone by an alias since I got settled in Baldur's Gate. I was hardly going to spend years paying rent and living under the name" she picked up a random identification "Tavaliss Larkspur" (Journeyman druid).

"So what is the full thing?” He asked "Your given name. If you don't mind my asking." 

She paused, she hadn't used or given her full name in ages,yet the syllables still slipped easily off her tongue after years of neglect. "Halanaestra." Then since she was already revealing all "Halanaestra Bowman Amarith" she added the surnames from her parents.

"Hah!" He snorted "I can see why you shortened that.” Then thoughtfully he repeated “Halanaestra," Memorizing it. "Halanaestra" he said it a second time as if savoring it. She swallowed, feeling the tips of her ears heat up.  She'd never had any real affection for her full name, a mouthful that belonged to someone else. But hearing him say it was poetry. "And Bowman was…?" He inquired about the human surname.

"My mother. Died when I was five.” She’d died of a fever that swept through town.

"I see." He left it at that. Sparing them both the awkward empty apologies that people usually gave when any death was mentioned even ones decades behind them. 

"Amarith is my father’s family.” she added. “I usually just leave it at Halla. I didn't see a point in changing that for a group of people who'd suffered recent head injuries."

"It would have been hilarious,"  he insisted. 

"For you perhaps. You're not the one who'd have Lae'zel complaining that your name was 'inefficient ' and ' ill disciplined '." 

"Hardly your fault your name rambles on. It's not like you chose that one. It is pretty though." 

She hummed in response, turning back to the disguise kit, "Not sure we can use much in here on you." She said with a frown. "It's going to take more than a pair of glasses to make you blend in." 

"Oh Darling" He asked. "You'd want to cover this face?" He gestured at himself with dramatic horror. "It would be a sin." 

"Oh it would be." She agreed "But we are trying to blend in, not inspire poets for the next 200 miles of road." Or attract any brave souls looking to rid the world of 'monsters'.  She studied him thoughtfully, “I’m not sure if glasses would hide or bring attention to your eyes. A high collar is a must, if you can stand it.” 

"I'm not dying my hair."

Halla dug around in the box skimming through the loose signet rings and pendants of various gods and organizations. Maybe she should add a Harper’s pin to the collection. Could come in handy. 

"I wouldn't do that to you." She wasn't sure how his hair would take dye, or gods forbids retain it. She hesitated to ask how it grew, if it grew , much less actually meddle with it. "Wigs are miserable to travel in long term. But an option.” She was thinking out loud. “Illusions are a pain to maintain." She learned that from hard experience. Her hand sank to the very bottom of the box and her fingertips hit a small ring. "Oh." She pulled it out examining it. "I forgot about this." She laughed.

"What is it?" She held it out for him to see, he picked it up for a closer look. It was a simple silver ring, hardly worth any notice. Except. "Is it magic? There's some sort of energy there."

She took it back and slipped it on her index finger. "I got this as payment for a job. It's a ring of seeming." 

"And you just left it to collect dust?" he was appalled. 

"It only works if you know who you want to look like. So unless I had someone specific I wanted to impersonate, the rest of this lot is better." She fidgeted, turning the ring on her finger as an idea started to come to mind. She sat up from her position on the floor.”However.” She scrambled to her feet. “You want to stand up for me? I want to try something.”

Obligingly he stood. "How do you want me?" He asked holding his arms out and doing a spin. 

 She twisted the ring, "You asked me to be your mirror. I could..." She gnawed on her lip. "Try it again. Without the poetry this time." 

" Oh." His eyed widened, realizing what she was offering. 

"Do you want me to?" She asked quietly.

He nodded, his eyes locked onto her. Like a starving animal staring at a meal. She swallowed, "Could you close your eyes for a second?"

He closed his eyes like a child awaiting a gift. She hoped she wasn't going to disappoint. The visual arts had never been her strong suit. 

She looked at him, focusing on every detail she could. The way his hair caught in the light, his laugh lines, his eyes, his hands. She then whispered the command word. Looking down she examined her hands, now his hands, pale and better manicured than hers ever were. Glancing in the little mirror she kept in the disguise kit she saw Astarions face looking back at her. It had worked. 

With a breath of relief she spoke her own voice coming out of the reflections lips. "You can open your eyes now, love." 

The man opened his eyes and stared."Oh" 

For a while he remained motionless, his hungry eyes drinking in every detail. Halla remained quiet as Astarion pored over the sight; Mirrors didn't talk after all. After a moment's hesitation she began mimicking his movements. She was acting as a mirror for him, might as well do a decent job.

 She resisted a laugh as they both turned in unison so he could see his backside. Anyone else she’d tease about it, hells she might even bring it up later. But other people hadn’t forgotten their own face so she’d hold her tongue for the moment.

"Is that really what I look like?" He asked finally. He turned his head, she followed the movement to show his profile. He turned to see the other side and she did the same. "No wonder you couldn't resist me." He smiled like a contented cat. She tried to duplicate the face on her own but failed. She could tell without seeing, the smile felt wrong. He tilted his head at the botched attempt. He raised an eyebrow. With a snort she wrinkled her nose. 

"Now I know that is not the face I'm making." He said with an imperious frown. "Tsk tsk." He shook his head. 

Halla tried to resist but erupted into a laugh destroying the performance. "I have never in my days sounded that adorable . What sort of mirror are you? I demand to speak to your employer." He put his hands on his hips. 

"Sorry, sorry." She said, wiping a tear from her-his eye. Straightening up she took a deep breath and put on a serious face. “I’m messing this up.” 

"No, no. Don't apologize, my love," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "This is a gift." he leaned in -even without the seeming they were close enough in height to see eye to eye. The vampire gazed into her- well not her eyes. “I’d kiss you but I know you’ll just give me a hard time about it.” he frowned.

“What? Me ?” she feigned shock. “Me?” she pointed at herself, “Tease you about kissing yourself? Nah - I would nev-”  she found herself interrupted by him kissing her. Well his face. Himself? She laughed as she pulled away. “I’ll let you have a pass this time.”

“So generous.” he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll start judging you if you want me to keep this on in bed.”

“I’m not a devil my dear.”

“Do you want me to take the illusion off now?” she asked, fidgeting with the ring.

He gave her one last long look, as if committing it to memory and nodded. “Thank you again for this. You have no idea how much you’ve given me.” She whispered the command again and the illusion faded.

 “When we get a chance I’ll have to have your portrait painted.” she said, pulling him into a hug. “Or maybe one of the gnomes can make a looking glass that works for vampires.“ She wasn’t a craftsman but surely something could be worked out.

Astarion held her close, running his fingers through her hair. “You spoil me.” he murmured into her ear. “And I have nothing to give in return.” 

She sighed sadly. “This isn’t a transaction.” she’d told him but it never seemed to stick. Not that she’d expect to make centuries of habits fade with her words, no matter how good with words she was. “You don’t have to pay me back. We’re in this together.”

“Hm, what was that last part?”

“Together?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that word.”