Chapter Text
You watch him laugh as Shadowheart leans closer to whisper something in his ear, and the unwarranted jealousy that has your chest aching leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He may be sharing your bed now and then, but you have no right to him. For all you know, he might be spending his other nights with each and everyone in your camp. And that is his prerogative; pretty words aside, Astarion has never promised you anything other than fantastic sex.
A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You are sure he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger. That he has convinced you that this means more to him than it actually does. The sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it, but it doesn’t really matter, because none of the others hear you, too busy listening to Gale regaling another story about his ex.
Annoyed with yourself, you rise, an excuse prepared on your tongue in case anyone questions your departure from the merriment. The lie remains unspoken and you’re relieved when you can slink into the shadows unnoticed. Relieved, but also perhaps a bit sad. It’s funny, you’ve spent most of your life aiming for anonymity, to stay under the radar. The unexpected friendships you’ve made since the kidnapping has unravelled all of that. Have made you aware of the dark and empty space in your heart you’ve successfully ignored until now.
Except it isn’t empty anymore.
It happened gradually, and without your permission. A dashing pale rogue stealing your affection when you weren’t looking. Because yes, while you know that his only reason for talking his way into your bed was manipulation, he has unintentionally shown you glints of his real self during your time together. He’s a complicated mess, just like yourself, and you love him. Love everything about him, even though it hurts.
So maybe he has you wrapped around his finger after all, because if you had any sense, you would end this thing between you. You should, but you are a selfish being. One day Astarion will realise that he doesn’t need to use sex to feel safe with you, but until that day comes, you will greedily accept every scrap of attention he gives you.
“Pathetic.”
“Talking to yourself, darling? Or have you made another furry friend when I wasn’t looking?” Astarion gracefully — why is that even when he’s pleasantly drunk, the elf manages to appear graceful? — sits down next to you in the grass. “You already have three of them in the camp, surely that’s enough?”
“Three?” You try to gather your thoughts, but it’s difficult when he is this close to you. “Scratch, the owlbear cub, and…?”
“Halsin, of course.”
“Of course,” you repeat dumbly. True, the druid was in his bear form when you first met, but something in Astarion’s demeanour makes you suspect that that isn’t what he meant. Images of Astarion undressing Halsin floods your mind. Halsin is a handsome and powerful man, so it would make sense for Astarion to seduce him too. Just like he had with you.
“Why are we sitting here, by the way?” Astarion shifts to lean on one hand, his face tilted back to take in the full moon. “Wanted a more romantic setting than your tent this time, darling?”
Oh. So you are the chosen one for the night. You were certain it would be Shadowheart, considering.
“Are you alright, Tav?”
For a moment you let yourself believe that the hesitation you hear in his voice is founded on genuine concern. That he truly cares beyond the deep-seated need for self-preservation ingrained in him. But the illusion can only last so long. You know enough of his history not to hold his actions against him, but right now you’re not in a headspace to pretend that everything is fine. And yet, you try.
“Of course I am.” You hold back a flinch when you hear the acid lacing your words like a toxin. It gives too much away, so you do the only thing you can think of. Your hands are already grabbing fabric before you have finished your thought, pulling him closer before he has time to examine your statement too closely. Before he can figure out your lie.
The night air is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the hot mouth claiming yours. You might regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is exactly what you need. In Astarion’s arms, you can forget everything but him and what he gives you. Around other people he can seem petty and cruel, but when he’s with you like this… this is different.
Or least that’s what you tell yourself. You cling to the illusion that this is special, and you succeed — until you feel yourself leaning your head to the side, offering your neck.
Astarion doesn’t ask it of you, he never does. It’s always you that wordlessly gives him what you believe is what he truly wants.
And this time it reminds you that deep down, this is just a transactional act for Astarion. Nothing else. He doesn’t care about you, not really.
After you’re both sated, you drift off to sleep without meaning to. It has been a taxing day, both physically and mentally, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking down at you with an indiscernible expression in his red eyes. Almost as if you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. Except it doesn’t make any sense, because to you it feels like he saw right through you the first time you met.
Some time later, you’re vaguely aware of strong arms lifting you from the damp grass. You must’ve made some noise, because you feel a warm breath against your ear.
“Hush, my darling, you don’t want the others to wake up.”
Exhaustion drags you back under, and when you next wake up, you’re in your tent. Alone.
“Have you been crying, Tav?”
Fuck. You should’ve known Karlach would notice. “Yes,” you admit, knowing it’s no use lying. “Nightmare,” you add, because it’s not entirely untrue.
“Ah, yeah, that’ll do it.” The hand Karlach places on your shoulder feels reassuring. Supportive without a speck of judgement. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it, you know.”
You smile, because you don’t know what you have done to deserve such a great friend like her. “Be careful,” you laugh, “otherwise I might take you up on that offer.” Gods knows you’re in need of someone to confide in. It’s just that you’re not a hundred percent sure she’s not one of Astarion’s other conquests.
“My tent is always open for you, Tav. I hope you know that.” Karlach’s soft smile quirks into a grin as her eyes shift to look at something over your shoulder. “Oh, hi, Fangs. Trying to sneak up on Tav, are you?”
“And a good morning to you too, Karlach.” You don’t need to see him to know that he’s rolling his eyes. “Of course not, I just did not want to break up what looked like an intimate moment.”
Strange. Underneath the snark, Astarion almost sounds… jealous. That doesn’t make the least bit sense, so you brush the notion away.
“Nothing intimate about it,” you press out. “Just Karlach being a good friend.” One deep breath, and then you turn around to face him. It takes all of your determination, but you make sure to keep a neutral expression. Except you catch his eyes narrowing, and too late you realise that he, too, notices the small but telling signs of the tears you shed not even an hour ago. Unlike Karlach, he keeps his thoughts to himself, because of course he does. You’re not even sure why you’re not surprised, but deep down you knew he wouldn’t acknowledge it.
You momentarily stop breathing when the truth slams into you like a blow to the gut: he doesn’t care enough to ask. Or if he does, asking could mean complicating things he wants to keep simple.
“Tav?”
You hear Astarion addressing you, but you’re stuck inside your own head now. Of course he doesn’t want to know. Freedom and survival are the key factors driving Astarion in everything he does, and getting entangled with you beyond pleasure and safety — and feeding — could compromise both of those things. While he probably does consider you a friend at this point, it’s only surface-level. In all honesty you can’t blame him. After all he’s been through, trust doesn’t come easy to him.
You could hold a grudge for the lies he told you, but the truth is, you went into this with your eyes wide open. You could’ve called him out on it, but you were so curious about what it would lead to that you let him believe that you were fooled.
“Tav?”
A cool hand on your arm snaps you back to the here and now.
“Sorry, did you say something?” He’s eyeing you warily, and you wonder fleetingly how he would react if you told him the half-lie about the nightmares.
Astarion’s brow twitches as he opens his mouth to speak. “Tav–”
“Gooood morning, everyone!”
Gale. Of course. “Good morning, Gale.” Not letting yourself ponder what Astarion might’ve been meaning to say, you fling yourself at the opportunity of a new topic of conversation as if it was the last potion of healing in an otherwise empty pouch. “Aren’t you chipper this morning?”
“I saw a falling star just before going to bed last night, and it felt like a sign that this day would be an exceptionally good one.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Speaking of.” Lowering his voice, Gale slides closer to your side. “I was thinking of doing some stargazing tonight. Want to join me? The sky should be clear enough for it.”
You can feel Astarion’s eyes on you. “Sure,” you hear yourself say, immediately regretting it.
“Perfect!”
“What’s perfect?”
Saved by the Tiefling. “Gale says tonight should be perfect for stargazing.” When you turn around to face her, there’s no Astarion in sight. That should feel like a relief, and yet, you can help but worry. Why that is is beyond you, but the guilt is still there, confusing you even more.
“That’s not–”
“Why don’t you join us? We can ask the rest of the group too.”
“Excellent idea, Tav!”
“Mm, yes. Excellent.”
Gale sounds disappointed, but it’s better this way. If you were more callous you would use Gale to try to get Astarion out of your system and out of your heart, but that is out of the question now. During your weeks together, he has become a friend. They all have.
Perhaps you can find yourself a handsome druid when you all go back to the Grove to trade with the merchant Arron later today. If for nothing else, you desperately need to work on your flirting game because it has never been your strong suit to begin with.
“Tav?”
“Yes, Halsin?” You don’t know it, but the druid can tell that something is troubling you.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, never been better.” If you keep saying it out loud you might perhaps believe it at some point.
“Right.” His seemingly all-knowing eyes scan you up and down, making you feel like he can see into the deepest parts of your heart and mind. You’re not entirely sure that he can’t. “I heard from Karlach that you’re going to the Grove,” he continues after a moment of heavy silence. “I have other business to attend to today, but I wanted to ask if you could do me a favour while you’re there.”
Your body relaxes with relief. “Yes, we are. What do you want me to do?”
The fictitious druid can wait for another time.
It’s almost sundown when you and the others are back at the camp again. It’s been a good day, all in all. You were able to stock up on potions and scrolls, and Karlach sweet-talked her way into a good deal on a handaxe. Not that you were there to watch it happen — Halsin’s favour had you talking to both the new leader of the Druids, Francesca, and Rath, the latter engaging you in a longer conversation than originally planned. Not that you minded, Rath is a good conversationalist. And quite handsome.
Yes, you did notice, but you kept it polite, not at all in the mood for flirting. Not when your thoughts continuously drifted back to a certain vampire that declined tagging along at the last minute.
It’s embarrassing to admit, but your eyes roam Halsin’s tent when you search him out to relay the information you gathered today. It’s probably a coincidence that Astarion decided to remain, but you can’t help but look for signs of someone sharing Halsin’s bed.
If Halsin sees you snooping, he doesn’t confront you about it, and you feel silly when you leave him to find the others. Who he sleeps with is none of your business, and you tell yourself that this is enough. Either you get over yourself, or you let Astarion go.
Which is easier said than done.
“Hey Karlach, let me see that axe of yours.” The rest of your party is gathered around the fire, preparing tonight’s meal. “From what I hear, I should bring you every time I need to haggle down the price for something.”
“Look at this beauty!” Karlach happily shows you her new weapon. “I’m going to polish it tomorrow, really bring out the shine it deserves.”
“How come you weren’t there, Tav?” Astarion sounds nonchalant, like he couldn’t care less but decides to ask anyway.
“I believe Tav had more important things to do.” Trust Lae’zel to come to your rescue.
“Halsin wanted some updates from the Grove,” you add.
“Mhmm, but surely that’s not the only reason why you talked for so long with Rath, Tav?” Shadowheart teases. “It seemed like you two really hit it off.”
“Yeah, he’s cute, Tav. Go for it!”
You want to look at Astarion, but you force yourself to turn your attention to Karlach instead, making sure to sound as casual as possible. “He’s nice, but…” You already have someone. “Perhaps you should go for him, Karlach, if you find him cute?”
“Nah, I have my eyes on someone else.”
It’s adorable, the way she lights up, and you wish you could hug her. “Hmmm, might this be a blacksmith we all know?”
“Tav!”
“This is secret to none, Karlach,” Lae’zel says. “Even a blind fool couldn’t help but notice the way you swooned when he helped you in the Grove.”
“I didn’t swoon!”
“There was definitely some swooning happening,” Shadowheart chimes in. “We all saw it.”
“Aaaanyway…! This was about Tav, not me.”
Dammit. You should’ve left for your tent when you had the chance. “No, no, I think we should talk more about you and Dammon.”
“Come on, Tav.”
“Yes, Tav, tell us all about your conversation with Rath.”
For a moment you somehow forgot that Astarion is there, too. “There’s nothing to tell. He’s just nice and easy to talk to.”
“Hmm, you’re not very convincing, Tav.”
With a groan, you turn to the wizard. “Not you too, Gale.” For someone so hung up on his ex, he sure looks jealous over the fact that you might be interested in someone else. “I know you all probably only mean well, but if you don’t drop this right now…”
You expect either Astarion or Lae’zel to make some kind of comment, but none of your companions say a peep. There’s an awkward silence for a few tension-filled moments and you wonder if you sounded too harsh. They only want your best, after all.
Thankfully, Shadowheart steps in, clearing her throat. “I think our food is ready.”
Once you sit down to eat, you watch them all as they talk and laugh. It feels like usual again, and you’re reminded how lucky you are to have come across such amazing people in this extraordinary situation life put you in.
Your gaze rests a little bit longer on your lover. He’s always beautiful, but it’s entrancing the way the flickering flames seem to caress his cheekbones, the arch of his nose. His smile. He’s laughing at something Lae’zel just said, and going by the look on her face, it wasn’t meant to be funny.
It’s quite the motley crew you’re leading — and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
You freeze when you suddenly find yourself locking eyes with Astarion. He isn’t supposed to catch you staring, and you quickly look away even though you know it’s too late. You wait a few minutes, and when you glance in his direction again, he’s talking to Gale.
Why must it be so difficult? Are you making it more difficult than it needs to be? You want to be with him and only him, so why not just ask it of him? If he says no, you’ll at least know instead of always wondering. And if he says yes, maybe he’ll grow to love you back.
Once again, you wish you had someone to talk to — and after today you think you can confide in Karlach — but it feels good to have come to a decision. Hopefully you can get him alone after dinner, because you would prefer to have it done before the stargazing Gale has planned.
You allow yourself to imagine the two of you lying next to each other in the grass, holding hands, smiling. Or his arm around you, holding you near.
You refuse to think about the other option, even though it’s the far more likely outcome.
For now, you’re going to pretend that everything’s going to be alright.
It’s as if all the gods have come together to conspire against you. Truly, you wonder if you accidentally angered one or several of them, because after dinner, nothing goes as planned.
First it is Shadowheart, seeking your counsel about a scroll in her possession she wants you to take a look at. Next it is Lae’zel, wanting to discuss again your findings about Orpheus and what it might mean.
You almost scream out loud when Karlach calls for you just as you are finally about to approach Astarion.
You definitely do scream, just a little, when you collide with a tipsy Gale and the collision causes red wine to splatter all over your shirt and trousers. Cursing under your breath, you see Astarion glance your way with a chuckle. As tempting as it is to stomp over and drag him into his tent just to have it over with, you decide a change of clothes first is the wisest course of action.
It’s much less conspicuous, for one — everyone would notice and wonder if you decide to talk to him now — and you need a moment to cool down.
You’re quick about it, grabbing the first clean pieces of clothing you can find — but it’s not quick enough.
When you walk out of your tent again, Astarion is nowhere to be seen. Telling yourself that it’s not strange for you to inquire about his whereabouts, you ask Halsin if he has seen him.
“I think he went to find something to eat.”
“Ah.” Dammit. ”I see.”
You stare into the dark forest surrounding the camp, wondering if it will seem odd if you go after him. Probably not, if they even notice you leave.
In the end, you decide to remain where you are, sitting down by the fire with the others. He will be back sooner or later, and until then, you can enjoy the company of your friends. Or try to, at least.
Astarion’s still not back when Gale suddenly stands and announces that it’s time to head out. Watching them all laugh and banter as they gather blankets and wine, you realise that you should do things like this more often. Take the time to just have fun. Especially now, when what you have to face next is the Shadowlands, a place that sounds more terrifying than anything else your party has encountered so far.
Not counting getting tadpoles inside your head.
It’s actually a quite nice spot Gale has found. Wide stretches of soft grass swaying in the night breeze, the surrounding tree line creating a sense of protection and serenity. If your heart wasn’t already attached to another, you think you would’ve enjoyed going here alone with Gale. Maybe.
“Where’s the food? Surely we need something to snack on too?”
“Karlach…”
Shrugging, Shadowheart held up the bottles in her hands. “Sorry, too busy grabbing the wine.”
“I’ll go,” you offer, because it would be a shame to bring the mood down with unnecessary squabbling. The fact that there’s a chance you might find a certain elf back at camp has absolutely nothing to do with it. Well, maybe a little.
“Thanks, soldier, you’re the best!”
You leave before anyone gets the idea of tagging along. If Astarion is back, you wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to finally talk with him. Even if it ruins the night for one or both of you.
When you get back, you see Withers by his tent. But no Astarion in sight.
“Where is that goddamn man?” You stomp over to his tent. “Astarion? Are you here?”
Nothing.
Muttering to yourself, you take a basket and fill it with bread, cheese, and some fruit. With how everything has gone so far tonight, you grab a bottle of what you presume is wine, because the urge to get blissfully drunk is too hard to resist.
As you trudge back to the others, you wistfully wonder where Astarion has been all night. Was he avoiding you? And if so, why?
“Tav, there you are!” Karlach shoots up from her seat on the blanket and relieves you of the basket. “Look who we found!”
And there he is.
“Astarion.”
Sitting between Halsin and Shadowheart.
“Tav,” Gale pats the spot next to him, “I saved you a seat.”
Of course he did. “Thank you, Gale.”
Even if you had it in you to dismiss him, you realise quickly that there’s no other space available. So you sit down, because there’s not much else you can do.
It turns out that the bottle you snagged isn’t wine but rum, but that suits you just fine at this point. You try to listen as Gale talks to you about the constellations he points at, but your focus keeps shifting to Astarion. The way he leans closer to Shadowheart, the way he keeps touching Halsin. You are used to him being a bit of a flirt, but this feels like more. It feels like there’s actual intent behind it and not him just being his usual self.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he’s trying to make you jealous. Which is ridiculous, of course.
Unless it isn’t. You take another swig of the rum. “Ridiculous.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Astarion glances your way but quickly turns to Halsin again when he catches you watching. The bastard. Well, two can play that game. “Oh.” You inch just a little bit closer to Gale. “I was just saying to myself how ridiculously beautiful the sky is.” Smooth, Tav, smooth. You almost roll your eyes at yourself.
Gale smiles. “It is, isn’t it?”
For the next half hour, you make yourself focus on Gale, and Gale alone. He is an interesting man — when he’s not talking about Mystra. In the back of your mind, you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but your drunk brain justifies it by telling yourself that Gale deserves an attentive audience. He’s the reason why you’re all here, after all.
He really is nice — too nice for someone like you. You realise that at some point while observing Gale and Karlach talk about… something. You’re not really listening anymore, once again caught up in your own hazy mind.
The bottle in your hand is almost empty — when did that happen? Oh, right. You have been taking a sip every time you hear Astarion laugh or call someone else a pet name. Stupid idea, that.
With a heavy sigh, you flop back to lie down on the blanket. Everyone’s voices turn into background noise as you stare up at the stars. Or try to, because the world is spinning, spinning, and the last thing you hear before you doze off is someone saying your name.