Chapter Text
Lord Astarion Ancunín’s life was perfect.
He dined on the finest food (and people) that Baldur’s Gate had to offer. He took strolls through the sunlight whenever he liked, yet was easily the strongest vampire who had ever existed. He lived in a palace, dressed in the finest fashions—hells, set the fashions—and controlled every level of power of the land he called home.
Even with the occasional disappearance and whiff of corruption that surrounded the vampire lord, he was Baldur’s Gate’s most eligible bachelor. Devastatingly handsome, wealthy, and passably “living,” Astarion was never at a loss for company. With a wink or a smile, he could have anyone he chose whenever he chose.
Well… almost anyone.
But Tav would come around.
She’d always been so irritatingly soft-hearted. So stubborn.
But she’d see it soon if she hadn’t already. She’d realize what she was missing and come crawling back, ready to accept his charitable gift of immortality.
And then, they would be together forever as he’d always known they would be.
She would be his—and only his.
He would keep her safe within these walls and provide her with every comfort. Every protection. He would make sure she never again doubted if his ascension had been worth it.
She’d see reason.
As a spawn, she wouldn’t have a choice.
Yes, any day now, Tav would stroll through that door and beg his forgiveness. And he, as the benevolent lord that he was, would welcome her with open arms. He’d chastise her appropriately, of course, but they would be together. Things would be as they should have always been.
At least, that was what Astarion had told himself every day since she’d left. He’d lost track of how many—it was all the same when you were immortal. Still, he hadn’t thought it had been more than a few years at most.
Or perhaps he’d merely forgotten how very mortal Tav was.
How very human.
Of course he’d known that humans lived short lives. They were sort of like pets that way.
But still, only a hundred years had passed. It was so little time in the grand scheme of forever. It didn’t seem possible that in such a tiny blip—practically a blink of his eye—Tav had grown old.
That she had died.
Astarion had destroyed half the palace the day he found out. He’d killed half a dozen servants.
Still, it didn’t help.
It wouldn’t bring Tav back. Nothing would. Even a resurrection would do nothing to help a body that had merely found itself worn to its limit with age.
He should have done more. He should have made her see reason instead of patiently waiting for her to understand everything she was giving up. He’d forgotten that she didn’t have the luxury of time that he did.
He’d forgotten what a fool she was.
It was no matter. The beauty of being one of the most powerful people in Faerûn was that nothing was truly impossible.
Not for him. Not anymore.
So he solved the problem.
There was no bringing back this Tav—his Tav—but that was okay. This Tav had made her choice, but out there somewhere was another Tav—one who hadn’t yet thrown away her shot at happiness.
It had taken decades of research and planning, but finally, he was ready.
Finally, he had found a new Tav. One in another life where his past self had made the wrong choice. Where he’d stayed the weak, pathetic thing that had to cower behind others just to survive.
Really, it would be a kindness to them both.
He would put the spawn out of its misery, and he would grant Tav the forgiveness she didn’t deserve. The forever that his Tav never should have rejected.
It was poetic, really.
Here he was with another plan to woo the foolish girl with the flaming sword. Except this time, it wasn’t for his protection, but for hers.
To save her from herself.
Lord Astarion Ancunín’s life wasn’t quite perfect.
But soon?
It would be at last.