Archive of Our Own

Astarion stared at the petal in his hand.

A small purple petal, so innocent on its own.

Lilac, first feelings of love.

It was out of place in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, a dot of colour in the bleak darkness all around them. Astarion let it fall into the shadows where it was devoured immediately; another victim to the Shadow Curse.

Last night, Tav had made her claim. She had crawled all over him, declaring her love, announcing she would never ever let him go, declaring he would be hers forever and ever.

Last night, Gale had looked at him with angry betrayal. Telling him maybe they could be friends — eventually. Which was as good as never in Astarion's books. They didn't have time for 'eventually', and even if they did, 'eventually' didn't happen for people like Astarion.

He coughed another petal.

~

"Astarion," Halsin called.

Astarion stopped packing his things for the day and looked up. Halsin gestured for him to follow but Astarion just sighed. He rubbed his face and fixed his hair, and followed the druid to the shore.

"You have not been well, Astarion," Halsin started.

Astarion couldn't help but laugh. The sound wheezed in his throat and made him cough, but he spoke as if nothing had happened. "Darling, I'm hurt. Nothing could be unwell with this perfection."

"You've been coughing. Your breath becomes laboured when you speak. These are not the signs of someone who is well."

Astarion barked a laugh. "I am undead, in case you forgot. I don't need to breathe. It doesn't matter if I cough as long as I don't do it when it might endanger someone. That someone being me. So if that was —" he choked on the last word, another petal stuck in his throat, and he had to cough to get it free.

A crushed, small, pink flower sat on his palm. Mezereon, desire to please.

"Astarion…" Halsin said quietly and touched his hand.

"Don't touch me!" Astarion hissed and yanked his hand away from the druid.

"I only want to help you if you'll allow me. This has been going on for a tenday already. Ever since we reached the Shadow Cursed lands.”

"Well, I don't want your help. Go kiss bunnies or whatever it is you druids do.”

"I thought things were going well with Tav," Halsin said in a quiet, somber voice.

Astarion stopped and closed his eyes. He couldn't — he couldn't —

"It's not Tav." His voice was barely a whisper, but he knew Halsin could hear him. Somehow, that damn druid heard everything.

"I see." Halsin said. "You should talk with her. I'm sure she would —"

Astarion interrupted Halsin before the druid got any further. "Excuse me? Are we talking about the same woman?" He laughed. "Tav gets what Tav wants. Unless you haven't noticed, we're all dancing to her tune, like obedient little puppies."

"That is a rather uncharitable thing to say about one's lover,” Halsin said.

"We are talking about the same woman?” Astarion asked, incredulous. “Do you not have eyes, Bear, or are you just willfully ignorant? I can't even figure out which is worse to be honest." He didn't stay to wait for an answer.

~

Astarion couldn't believe they could waltz back to the Moonrise Towers without anyone saying anything. They had released the prisoners, killed everyone in the prison and these morons let them back in without batting an eye. Fanatic cults never attracted the sane and smart.

Of all the people Tav sent Astarion to investigate the tower with, it had to be Gale. The reasoning was sound but Astarion couldn't even look at Gale in fear of seeing the contempt and anger the wizard must harbour for him.

Because what he wanted to see was those beautiful brown eyes looking at him like he was worthy of something. Like he deserved to be loved and cared for. Like he was deserving the same kind of kindness all these people they kept saving did.

All Astarion should have thought of was Tav. Sweet naive Tav who looked at him with adoring eyes, who played beautiful music and came up with wicked battle tactics on the fly. Tav who desired justice and power. Tav, who was his safest bet at securing safety.

And then he'd had to listen to Gale talk about how he found Astarion's smell nice, despite none of them getting a proper bath since the Nautiloid. He'd listened to Gale go on and on about magic. He'd watched Gale cook for everyone else in the camp and let him lament about his inability to feed him. He'd let Gale teach him magic.

He'd been delighted when Gale tugged at his sleeve in the Shadow-Cursed Lands to tell him he looked irresistible, covered in the blood of their enemies. How the thrill of the battle made his heart beat faster and all he could think about was Astarion. Well, he hadn't used those words because, in true Gale-like fashion, he had said he had read a book about how the thrill of battle can cause 'other forms of stimulation'. Astarion could have written the book.

“You're being awfully quiet today, Astarion.”

“It was you who told me they preferred I stay quiet," Astarion said. "Hush now, I need to concentrate.”

“That was not what I meant and you know it," Gale said, sounding offended but perked up as he continued. "Is there some way I can help you? If so, consider it most enthusiastically done!”

Astarion turned to look at Gale, opened his mouth to speak only for something to lodge in his throat and he closed his mouth and got back to work in silence.

If only things had gone well. It was just Astarion's luck for Gale to hiss he thought one of the scurrying eyes was coming just as the lock clicked open and Astarion yanked him through the door, and pressed his hand to Gale's mouth to keep him quiet.

Gale felt firm and alive under his touch, his breath tickling Astarion's skin, and Astarion was sure if he breathed, he would smell the scent of Gale's skin, the magic humming underneath, the old books he gathered in his tent.

The stupid wizard moved, making entirely too much noise for stealth and Astarion used his whole body to pin Gale to the door, to keep him still and to listen if he could hear anything from the other side of the door.

Astarion didn't want to step back. He didn't want to let go of Gale. He wanted to sink in the heat of Gale's skin, bury his face in his throat, to smell, to taste his skin and when Gale wiggled a bit, Astarion leaned closer, pressed his knee between Gale's thighs to keep him still and he wanted to lose himself to the sensation of someone being so close. No, not someone. It was Gale and Astarion wanted nothing more than to press a kiss to his lips, to devour him whole, to never let go.

The scurrying eye must have been long gone by now. And yet, Astarion was reluctant to let go. When would he get another chance to hold Gale, to feel him, to study him so close?

He stepped back and turned his back on Gale. Gods, he was pathetic.

“We don't have all day, darling,” Astarion said, not daring to look back, not wanting to see the contempt and disgust surely on his face. Not wanting to reveal the pain as the roots grew deeper into his flesh, as flowers bloomed in his lungs, stuck in his throat.

When he coughed, narrow red and white petals stuck to the roof of his mouth, mocking him on his palm when he spat them out. Columbine. Anxious and trembling. A folly. Truly, a fitting flower for the fool he was.

He didn't dare to say a word before they got back to Tav.

~

"I assume he belongs to you?"

"He does what I tell him to, if that's what you mean?" Tav said with an uncouth cheer.

Astarion looked at her and then at the drow.

He does what I tell him to.

That's what he was, wasn't it? Following Tav, doing as she asked of him without another thought. There was no compulsion but he'd gotten good at following orders in his years of slavery.

“I'm sorry but I have to decline,” Astarion said. He needed to have at least this much self-respect. He did not want to bite that disgusting, vile drow, not in a million years.

“It's alright, Astarion, you have my permission to bite her,” Tav said and smiled sweetly.

"The answer is still no," Astarion said stiffly. He absolutely did not want to bite that woman under any circumstances.

Araj Oblodra turned her sharp gaze on Tav. "Talk some sense into your obstinate charge!"

Tav turned her eyes on him, disapproval clear in the wrinkle on her brow, in the tension at the corners of her eyes.

"Would you excuse us for a moment?" Astarion yanked Tav's arm rather harder than he had intended and dragged her far enough that the vile drow couldn't hear them. Or maybe she could, but it was the facade of privacy that mattered.

"You can't seriously ask me to bite her. There's something wrong with her blood, I can smell it all the way from here! It's rotten." Astarion spat. Even the smell churned his insides, he had no idea how he'd tolerate biting her. She must taste even more vile than she smelt.

"Don't be so dramatic, Astarion!” Tav rolled her eyes at him. “Imagine how useful the potion will be, how much it could help against the Absolute? You can't seriously throw away an opportunity like this?”

"Fine, I'll do it!"

Astarion just wanted to get out of the conversation, he just wanted to get this done and then push it deep down with all the other vile things he'd had to do in his miserable unlife.

Except the drow's blood was as rank as it smelled, churning his stomach in a way he didn't remember even putrid rats doing and he barely managed to wobble few steps away from everyone before he retched again and again until he felt weak, the taste of that vile blood still in his mouth.

“Darkness protect me, Astarion, are you alright?” Shadowheart whispered. Astarion was eternally grateful Shadowheart didn't touch him, not even when Astarion coughed and threw up again, adding blood-coated flower petals to the vile blood coating the floor.

“Astarion —!”

“Don't,” Astarion rasped.

“Only if you promise you'll come to me before things get worse.”

“If that will get you off my back, fine.” Astarion had wanted the words to be biting and snide. Instead, they sounded desperate and pleading.

He truly was pathetic.

~

"You can always throw yourself at me."

Those words made him feel ill, like a snake slithering around his throat squeezing, choking.

"I don't think I should. I don't want you to think of me in terms of sex. I don't think I want anyone to…" Astarion muttered.

"But you enjoyed yourself? We've had so much fun and it would be awful to ruin things now. Or don't you find me attractive anymore?" Tav looked so innocent saying those words and Astarion had to suppress the disgusted shiver going through him.

"Darling, you're exquisite. How could anyone not find you attractive?"

Tav's expression turned into a relieved smile and she reached to take his hand in hers. “I'm so glad. You should learn to enjoy sex again, just for yourself. Your own pleasure. You can do it with me, I'll be good to you, I promise.”

Words seemed to stuck in his throat, and this time not for flower petals choking him. “I… I suppose. If that's what you want.”

Tav looked so happy when she smiled, when she pulled him into her tent.

Afterwards, Astarion sat awake, aware of the roots growing in his lungs, of the parasite finding something to dig its clawas in his undead flesh. It was ironic; one parasite freed him from his master, allowed him to walk in the sun. And the other found something in him alive enough to devour until it killed him.

What fine choices he had. Turn into a mindflayer or see how much of him the flowers could consume until it killed him. Or if it killed him. He didn't want to think about that possibility.

Instead, he thought of Gale, of the way he looked when he talked about magic, of the power he held in his fingertips in battle. He thought how it had felt to imagine kissing Gale, how flustered the wizard had gotten, how beautiful his brown eyes had been when he had looked at Astarion like Astarion was a person, someone worth knowing, worth protecting.

Tav stirred behind him, turned on her side and reached for him, stroking his back with her hand and Astarion felt… disgusted.

"This is all a game to you, isn't it?" Astarion asked and wrinkled his nose as he turned to look at Tav, who looked at him surprised.

"Of course not? You're being too sensitive again. Honestly, Astarion. Did you not enjoy yourself last night?" Tav asked.

"Usually, I feel nothing. But last night. Last night I felt something. I felt miserable!" Astarion hissed the last word, unable to keep the disgust from his voice. He couldn't do this. Not anymore, not again. "I can't do this, I won't be your plaything. I need to have more respect for myself than that."

Tav opened her mouth but Astarion stood up and turned his back to her before she could say anything.

"I'm done. Whatever we had is over."

"But Astarion!" Tav shouted and stumbled after him, "I love you!"

"You don't." It was rather a statement than a denial.

“Astarion!”

Astarion didn't even make it in his tent before Tav caught up with him and grasped his arm, yanking him back, way harder than she should have been able to; like bony fingers wrapping to hold him, to punish him, to torture him.

He would not beg. He would not grovel, demean himself in front of this entitled woman who thought she could own him just because she decided he was the one she wanted.

He had told her he didn't want to lie on his back for breadcrumbs anymore. He had told her he wouldn't be used for others' gain again. He had told her how violated and disgusted he had felt.

“I've made myself quite clear or has the tadpole finally muddled your senses? Severed the connection between your brain and your ears? Released you from the rest of your sensibilities?”

“Stop that, Astarion!” Tav yelled, tightening the grip on his arm. It hurt.

Astarion could hear others stir, could hear their heartbeat kick up in anticipation of a fight. Just what he needed on top of everything, caught half naked in the middle of the camp, fighting with their leader. The perfect way to make sure no one in their camp would trust him.

It wasn't even the half-naked part of it all. Raphael had made sure everyone in their miserable party of weirdos had seen him half-naked. Just when he had become comfortable with the idea of not showing every part of his skin to everyone who was unfortunate enough to talk with him.

Not for the first time, Astarion wished he would burn as hot as Karlach, hot enough that no one could touch him ever again, that no one could lay their hands on him without burning themselves.

But instead, he didn't even fight back. Not even when Tav squeezed his arm with more intention, fire burning in her eyes.

“Is everything alright?” Gale asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes and he reached to touch Astarion but before even the tips of his fingers could reach him, he seemed to come to his senses and let his hand drop.

“Everything is fine. Right, Astarion?” Tav said, the hold she had of his arm tightening, fingernails digging into his flesh and when Astarion glanced at her, her smile seemed genuine. But he could see the strain around her eyes and lips, could feel the warning on the hold she had of him. “We just got carried away in the moment.”

Astarion knew this game, intimately, and he couldn't believe he had fallen for it again.

“Astarion?” Gale asked and peered into his eyes.

Astarion could hear others move about but all he could see was Gale, all he could feel was the tight grip around his arm and for a desperate moment he wished Gale could see through the ruse, could see how much Astarion hated this. Hated himself for yet again lying on his back for breadcrumbs.

Could things have been different if Tav had directed her attentions elsewhere? Could Astarion have thought Gale a protector in the beginning? Before he had gotten to know the wizard behind the hubris, behind the big words he liked to throw around. Could he have made Gale fall in love with him? Could he have made Gale love him?

“Astarion, are you alright?”

Astarion had to avert his eyes. He didn't want to see Gale. He didn't want to see the earnest concern he thought he saw in the wizard's eyes. It didn't matter.

“I'm fine,” Astarion said. “Absolutely fine.” His voice was level, not a hint of his earlier anger to be heard, not a bit of the pain he felt in his chest. Falling back into old habits should have been easy, he should have slipped into them like a fish into a stream. And yet, it felt like he was swimming in tar, sinking deeper and deeper.

~

Astarion was…

Terrified.

It was one thing to be at the receiving end of coercion, manipulation and deception and entirely another to watch someone else fall to it right in front of your eyes.

He felt eyes on him and when he dared to glance aside he saw Gale look at him, with an expression had he been a fool he would have thought concern.

It couldn't be.

Besides, Astarion got what he wanted, Yugir was dead and he hadn't even had to fight the damn thing. All he'd had to do was smile and say yes, my sweet you are too kind; yes my dear, thank you for your help, it was invaluable.

Something stuck in his throat.

To his consolation, Raphael did keep his word.

The Rite of Profane Ascension.

“I could, you know, solve that other problem of yours as well.” Raphael’s words were sweet like poison, dripping in mock concern and Astarion sneered at him.

“I don't —”

Raphael flicked his fingers and Astarion choked, something blocking his airways completely and he clamped his mouth shut, glaring at the devil as if that would deter him in any way.

“I think you will find my offer interesting before long. Until then.” Raphael disappeared, a disgustingly pleased smile on his lips and Astarion wished he could throw the devil into one of the chasms in the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

“Astarion?”

Of course, of all the people who had to hear the last bit of his conversation with the devil, it had to be Gale.

Astarion wished the glare he shot at Gale would be enough to deter him, but he should have known it was not.

“What did Raphael mean by another problem?” Gale asked. And thank all the Gods, quietly enough no one else heard.

Astarion opened his mouth and closed it, turning his back on Gale and walked back to their camp in silence, ignoring the questions Gale asked of him in quiet whispers to avoid being overheard by Tav who seemed all too pleased with herself.

Astarion didn't look back as he walked straight into Shadowheart's tent. It didn't matter if he tried to explain himself, whatever Raphael had done made speaking and — quite inconveniently — breathing almost impossible.

Shadowheart took one look at him and told him to sit. Astarion opened his mouth obediently and let Shadowheart peer into his throat. She grimaced and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“I can remove it but it's going to hurt.”

Astarion didn't care much. He followed Shadowheart away from their camp, far enough no one could hear them and allowed Shadowheart to look into his mouth with better light, allowed her to reach in and pull, pull until an entire plant ripped free from his throat and Astarion coughed, the pain of it feeling like he had swallowed knives and he was grateful when Shadowheart healed him. He was even grateful for the concerned look she gave him.

He could trust Shadowheart to stay silent.

Astarion looked at the blood-splattered flower on the ground and he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation.

“He should have given me sardonias.”

“What are those?” Shadowheart asked and sat down on the ground next to him.

“Cursed buttercups. Irony.”

“And this one?” Shadowheart asked, a furrow on her brow, hand still glowing with healing magic.

“Musk rose. Capricious beauty. Raphael must consider himself quite pleasing to the eye.”

“Astarion —”

“Please, don't.”

~

Astarion had to watch Gale jump down, towards the Heart of the Absolute, towards his God-ordained death, and he could do nothing.

He couldn't be there to stop Gale, to talk him out of it, to tell him to Hells with Mystra, to Hells with all the gods.

But no. He'd had to be selfish in wanting freedom for himself, in wanting agency, wanting to be seen as a person. If he'd just been quiet and pleased Tav he could have gone down with Gale to stop him from doing anything foolish. If he'd only —

Wasn't that a part of why he had fallen in love with the wizard? His unquenchable thirst for knowledge, for power.

Now that same thing would rob Gale from him for good.

“Astarion?”

“Hm?” Astarion wasn't even paying attention to whoever was addressing him. All he could do was to rotate worst-case scenarios in his head, mourn for his love. What would Gale think, when the time came to confront the Absolute?

If it was any consolation, none of them would be left standing to wonder if the explosion would indeed be as big as Gale had told them.

“Gale isn't one to throw himself into peril if it can be avoided.” Halsin appeared above him, peering down at him.

“And what do I care for the wizard? All I'm concerned about is blowing up with the mindflayer colony, which is — might I remind you — right underneath us.” Astarion could hear his denial fall flat but he didn't have enough energy to care.

“You told Karlach you were worried for Tav,” Halsin said, his voice infuriatingly level and neutral.

“Well. Aren't you a clever one?” Astarion sneered. “Want to dig out all the lies I've ever told to our companions, hm?”

“I am not your enemy, Astarion. I'm only trying to help.”

“Well, I don't need your help. Sod off, druid.”

At least this miserable existence would be over soon. If only he'd seen the sun once more.

~

Gale spoke animatedly with Karlach, no doubt about whatever mischief he'd gotten into as a child. It was a nice change of pace to see him talk about something mundane, something — well maybe not normal but more ordinary than the Crown of Karsus.

If Astarion had suspected Gale loved magic and power and Mystra more than he could ever love someone else, his suspicions were only confirmed. It wasn't — couldn’t be — Astarion his thoughts were filled with. After all, what was a vampire whore compared to a lost magical relic now within reach of a wizard filled with hubris.

When Gale had emerged from the mindflayer colony Astarion had been so relieved he couldn't even say anything. And just as Tav had whisked him away to join her in private celebration, he had heard Gale talk with enthusiasm he hadn't heard even when the wizard had spoken of magic and the Weave.

“Astarion.”

The voice startled him enough that he coughed.

He couldn't stop coughing.

Astarion pursed his lips closed, determined not to breathe until he was far enough from everyone he could push his fingers in his throat and try to dig out whatever the cursed parasite had decided to grow in his lungs this time.

All he managed to get out until he heard his name called was a single narrow blue petal. Windflower?

“What do you want, bear?” Words rasped in his throat but he was too tired to care. He let himself collapse on the ground, to bask in the sunlight, to feel the warmth of the sun on his face. He let himself to imagine he could lie here, in the sun, until the roots grew from his body, rooting him to the ground.

Would he die if he did that? Or would he live through every excruciating moment. The mindflayers would have claimed him before then. Probably. Or the tadpole would be dead and he would burn in the sun.

Halsin sat down next to him but Astarion didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to. What wise words could the druid even say to make anything better.

“Why are you with Tav?”

That question was so startling he opened his eyes and looked at Halsin who looked back at him with almost uncomfortable intensity.

Astarion had seen people look at him like that. They always wanted something from him.

“If you want to bed me you need to ask Tav.” Astarion tried to keep the bitterness from his voice. He wasn't very successful. “Unless it's some clandestine debauchery in the woods you're looking for? Don't worry, your secret is safe with me, we can get up to all sorts of things Tav will never find out about.”

“Unless it is me you desire to share your heart with, that couldn't be further from what I want,” Halsin said, his tone too serious for Astarion’s liking and he wrinkled his nose in mock disgust.

“Oh, boring.” Astarion dismissed Halsin with a wave of his hand. “I thought you were all for free love and all that.”

Halsin sat beside him as if Astarion had asked him to join him.

“You should break things off with Tav. I don't believe this relationship is doing either of you any good.”

“It doesn't matter! As long as Cazador lives, I need her!” Astarion hissed, earning only a coughing fit for his efforts. He spat out white, pink and red-white petals. This parasite truly was dramatic. Anemone, forsaken. He wished he didn't remember flower language, he'd rather not know what the parasite thought of him.

Halsin looked at him with his eternal patience, and Astarion wished he had kept his mouth shut. He was never good at that; something the parasite in his lungs would take care of before long.

“Needing her and being in a relationship with her are two separate things, Astarion,” Halsin said.

“Not in her mind!” Astarion exclaimed with an annoyed wave of his hand. “Besides, I won't talk about this with you. Run along now.” Astarion made a shooing motion but to no one's surprise, Halsin didn't move.

“If you're afraid Tav will drive you away unless you do everything she says, that's not a proper relationship. Not me or anyone in the camp would let her do that.” Halsin sounded disgustingly earnest and it ground Astarion's gears.

“Unless you haven't noticed —“ Astarion enunciated each word carefully to get his point through. “— I haven't exactly endeared myself to our travelling companions.”

Astarion felt like he was revealing too much.

“Gale wouldn't let anything happen to you,” Halsin said as if it was a simple truth, one he didn't even have to doubt.

“Why are you bringing Gale into this?” Astarion asked, his voice rasping in his throat. At least Tav didn't make him talk.

“I'm not blind, Astarion. I have seen how you look at him when you think no one is looking. When you look at Tav you're as tight as a bowstring but as soon as your eyes turn to Gale they soften. You smile.”

“Oh, you think you're so clever. Think you have it all figured out? It doesn't matter how I look at Gale or don't look at him. He has his precious crown he cares about, he has no use for me.”

“He has no reason to believe you return his feelings. Every time you're not in his sight at camp, he seeks you out. Every time you leave without him he looks at your back until you're gone. If you'd only ask, he would —”

“Oh, save the poetry,” Astarion sighed. “He may have had a passing fancy but it was gone before it even started.”

“Don't sell yourself short, Astarion.

Astarion didn't even deign to answer. He couldn't understand why Halsin couldn't see how wrong he was.

Astarion hoped Halsin would take the hint and leave. He hoped he'd get to be alone for a moment before he had to leave to hunt now that it was possible again. Sundown coloured the horizon in hues of red, dyeing the clouds pink and orange, and Astarion could have watched it for eternity.

“Tell me. How long do you think I have left?”

“If I'm being honest? A few tendays before the flowers fill your airways and you suffocate. It's not a pleasant way to go, please let me help, Astarion.”

“Darling, I don't have to breathe. Whether I can, impairs only my speech and I've been told I'm perfectly usable without it.”

Halsin didn't say anything. In fact, he stayed silent long enough that Astarion turned to look at him.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No. No, it's not that.” Halsin sounded strange. “I hadn't taken your… condition into account. I will do my best to figure something out.”

Astarion would rot inside out. There was nothing the druid could do. He closed his eyes to enjoy the last rays of sunlight, the warmth of them heating his skin so he felt almost alive. At least he had this.

~

"Really? That's your type? Elven prostitutes?" Astarion sneered. "It's rather embarrassing, dear."

The drow twins looked at him with disgusting smugness. This adventure was just filled with the most vile drows, and he had his face rubbed on each and every one of them.

Tav did not appreciate his jeer. She glared at him with her pretty eyes she knew made people bend to her will.

Astarion was tired.

"I knew you wanted to join in on the fun! Come on then, Astarion. Show me those bedroom skills again, won't you?" Tav purred, the tone of her voice at odds with the glare she had aimed at him just a moment before.

Tav's words made Astarion's skin crawl, made him feel like he would throw up and cough up all the flowers stuck in his lungs and when Tav grasped his arm too tightly he felt like death was wrapping its cold arms around him, squeezing tighter and tighter, choking all the air he didn't need from his lungs.

He knew Tav could bend him to her will and he felt his walls already crumbling, the inevitability of it making him feel like he was a thousand miles away. What use would it even be to resist?

And wasn't Tav right after all? Wasn't he being difficult without a reason? Tav had looked out for him ever since he had tried to bite her. She allowed him to feed from her, made sure he hadn't starved in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. She had made sure they'd gotten out of trouble countless times.

The image of Tav talking Yugir into killing himself, of her convincing Mallus Thorm to operate on himself crossed with the woman standing now before him, expecting things of him he didn't want to give, waiting for him to say yes to anything she asked for.

How could he say no?

The all-encompassing fear that had permeated his life for the past two hundred years crept in, the horror of waiting for the inevitable, of waiting for impossible commands he couldn't say no to even if he wanted to. Fear for the punishments that were bound to follow.

“If I must. Let's get it over with.” His voice sounded hollow and weird in his own ears. He looked past Tav, unable to look at her a moment longer, only for his eyes to land on the female drow who eyed him like a devil eyes a soul ready for harvesting.

“Awesome!” Tav clapped her hands like an overenthusiastic toddler. “Come on, Astarion, let's go! How often do you get a chance like this? And who knows, maybe they have something to learn from you.”

"Let it go, Tav. Can't you see Astarion is not feeling well, I'll take him back to Elfsong to rest." Gale's words made Astarion snap out of his spiral and when he looked at Tav, she had a displeased frown on her face, nose scrunched up in a way Astarion knew many thought cute.

Astarion wasn't sure what words were exchanged, what Gale had told Tav and later Shadowheart. But now they were In a side alley beside Sharess' Caress, and Gale was looking at him, open concern written all over his face.

Astarion could barely draw a breath to speak, he could barely conceal the wheezing, laboured attempts.

He didn't want Gale to see him like this. He didn't want to be in a back alley, and especially not in this back alley with Gale. He didn't want Gale to see him like this.

“A room would have been far more comfortable than this, darling,” Astarion said, voice rasping in his throat.

“That's not —! You honestly can't think that little of me, Astarion.” Gale admonished him, a frown between his brows, his beautiful brown eyes trying to catch his gaze. “I saw you were uncomfortable. It was unacceptable of Tav to pressure you like that. I brought you here because I care about you and I wanted you to be safe.”

“Stop being so nice to me,” Astarion managed to say. “It makes me want to be nice back, ugh.”

“You won't be rid of me so easily, Astarion. Come now, I'm sure it will be more comfortable at Elfsong.”

Astarion wanted to laugh.

He didn't.

Instead, he stood up, dusted off his clothes and started to walk back towards Elfsong, as if nothing was wrong. His chest hurt, he needed to cough, to drag the flowers from his lungs, cough out the petals suddenly flooding his throat.

~

Astarion could breathe.

There was nothing to block his airways, nothing to constrict his lungs. He felt light, almost weightless.

He felt… free.

“Don’t be alarmed, I’m here with you.” Gale looked around them, his voice calm, but there was an undercurrent of awe. “It's marvellous, isn't it?”

“Where are we?”

“The Outer Planes. Where the gods dwell.”

Astarion touched his throat, felt his breath travel through his lungs and he marvelled at the skill required to maintain an illusion this realistic, this complicated. The boat seemed to travel through the Weave as if it was water, floating them through the endless Planes. It was breathtakingly beautiful, like nothing Astarion could have imagined even existed.

He could stay here for an eternity. Free of Cazador, free of Tav, free of the parasites trying their best to devour him.

“Why did you bring me here?” Astarion asked, finally turning to look at Gale, who quickly averted his gaze as if he had been staring at Astarion. “Was it to admire my dashingly good looks? The background surely brings my eyes out.” Astarion teased and earned an embarrassed and awkward cough from Gale.

“I wanted to talk to you without all the curious eyes and ears catching us.”

“How very shrewd of you, Gale.”

Astarion desperately wanted to continue the banter, enjoy the safety he felt when talking with Gale, not having to worry about his every word, every action.

Gale didn't share his sentiment.

“The gods, they want to keep this from us. The Crown, it holds the power of a would-be god. If I could make use of that power, harvest its magic, I could do so much good. I could hold the powers of a god in my hands and help people who need it.”

Astarion wasn't sure what to say, what Gale was going for.
“I knew about your hubris but this is something else, dear," he said flatly.

“I don't want to join them, I want to better them!” Gale exclaimed. He moved his hands forward, as if wanting to reach for Astarion’s hands but instead he squeezed his hands into fists and lifted his gaze to look around them. “Imagine, A god's power paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart. The tadpoles, the Orb — these threats to our existence — the gods could aid us if they wished but instead they cower behind Ao. So let us act ourselves. With the power of the Crown, any foe would be rendered impotent. Any obstacle would be dwarfed by our might.”

“Gale,” Astarion sighed. Inside, a small part of him was elated that he could sigh. That he could talk without having to force the words out of his throat. But it was a very small part. The greater part of him was absolutely exasperated by this idiot man sitting opposite him, who was looking at him again at the mention of his name, like there was something he needed Astarion to understand. “Are you insane? Didn't your hubris already cost you your magic? You truly believe it'll be different this time around?”

Gale leaned forward, still keeping his hands to himself but his eyes were almost desperate as he looked at Astarion, this time his gaze unwavering.

“I'm doing this because I want to live! I used to believe Mystra's forgiveness was worth dying for. But I was wrong. You — everyone has shown me how much I have to live for.”

“And you can't do that without becoming a would-be-god? You really think they'll let you do that?” Astarion asked. He could not believe what he was hearing. Gale couldn't really be this — this — delusional!

“No! I need you to understand!” Gale exclaimed. “I can use this power for good! I could better myself! Be useful.”

Astarion could no longer look at Gale. He could no longer look at that desperate, sad face, those eyes looking at him like what he thought mattered. He sat up, having unconsciously leaned towards Gale and turned his head aside.

“I quite prefer the Gale in front of me.” Astarion was almost afraid to be honest. What would Gale think of him? Not wanting what Gale wanted. If he wanted the same would —

“You would truly prefer me as I am? Despite all the power I could have at my fingertips?” Gale asked, interrupting Astarion's thoughts, his voice quiet, almost defeated.

“Oh, you think me so shallow I'd want nothing more than protection?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he had time to think, time to come up with some sensible excuse. He didn't want Gale for protection. He wanted Gale as himself, as this endearing, awkward wizard. Not some power-filled god-like entity who might not even be a person anymore.

“You put the stars to shame.” Gale's voice was soft. It sounded almost admiring and Astarion had to fight with all his might not to fall for the false sincerity.

“Flatterer. I know I'm beautiful but I'll always go for shallow praise,” Astarion laughed, the words sounding false and hollow in his ears but what would it matter. Beauty was all he had.

Gale laughed at that, a surprised huff and when Astarion dared to look at him, he smiled at him almost as if he was something precious and not just some dirty whore passed around.

He didn't deserve to be looked at like that.

His chest hurt, and not in a way that choked the air out of him as the flowers grew. No, this was different. And it wasn't. His eyes stung as if he was about to cry but what was there to cry about? A handsome man had called him beautiful, something he had heard thousands of times before. Something he usually took advantage of; fools smitten by his good looks were easy prey.

Even the thought of it made him feel ill.

~

Astarion could go on about his day just fine. Perfectly, absolutely fine.

As long as he didn't need to talk.

He could just follow Tav's lead, do as he was told.

I want you to kiss me, Astarion.

Avoid anything that would make Tav turn her charms against him. Or worse, decide she didn't want to help him kill Cazador, instead leaving him under the bastard's influence, if they ever got their tadpoles removed, that was.

“Astarion,” Shadowheart said. Astarion opened his eyes and looked at Shadowheart who was leaning over him, the privacy screen he had dragged in front of the small alcove still in place.

Astarion raised his eyebrows to indicate he was listening.

“Tomorrow, we're going to the House of Grief.” She fell silent and looked at him as if expecting him to understand what she was about.

“I'm sorry but you have me quite at a loss here, darling,” Astarion said, his breath rasping only a little. Just the day before Shadowheart had torn flowers, stems and all, from his lungs and as he threw up only more petals joined them.

“That was a terrible joke and you know it. Don't waste your breath on such frivolities.” Shadowheart sat at the edge of his bed and Astarion dutifully scooted over to give her room. She didn't look pleased at whatever she was about to talk about and Astarion had a feeling he wouldn't like it either. “People go there to be rid of their grief. Rid of the memories that caused them. Shar isn't called Lady of Loss for nothing.”

Astarion raised his eyebrow, urging Shadowheart to go on.

“It… might be possible to cure you. You'd have to come with me and let Shar erase your memories of — of…” She trailed off and leaned her forehead on her hands, elbows propped on her knees. A bit like she was praying.

Astarion wanted to laugh.

“No.”

“You'll die. And it won't be pretty or fast. This thing will devour you, Astarion, unless you do something about it. Is this truly how you want to be for the next tenday? Even I can't predict what will happen after that. Or after we defeat the Elder Brain and the tadpole's protection lifts. This could take over in an instant, rooting you to the spot.”

“What pretty pictures you paint.”

“I'm serious.”

“So am I. Let me have this one good thing in my life. The one bright light after the pure shit I've had to endure.”

Shadowheart fell silent but didn't leave. She sat by his bed, staring ahead with unseeing eyes.

Astarion let his eyes fall closed. In reverie he could imagine all was well.

“Let me know if you change your mind. I'll be there for you, anytime you need me,” Shadowheart said quietly and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Do try to sound a tad less dramatic, darling. I know it's your whole thing but there's only so much drama I can handle.”

Shadowheart laughed and squeezed his shoulder gently.

“Try to get some rest. There's much to do still.”

~

Astarion sat by the statue of Mystra, waiting. To him, it seemed like he had waited for hours but looking at the priest shuffling about made it clear it couldn't have been that long.

Maybe he could close his eyes just for a while, just until Gale got back.

He was so tired.

Just… tired…

“Astarion?”

Someone was shaking his shoulder but his eyes felt so heavy, his limbs like they weighed a thousand pounds and he knew, he knew he could get up. He had, more times than he could remember. It wasn't that hard, he could do it if he'd just try.

If he'd get up now, he would surely die.

“Astarion!”

Someone was holding his cheeks between their palms, tilting his head back, panic creeping into their voice.

“Damn it, Astarion!”

“He's not breathing!”

At that Astarion managed to open his eyes, if only to renounce such foolish — if true — exclamations.

Someone was standing above him saying his name again but all Astarion could discern were dark locks of hair. He closed his eyes again only to be shaken sharply, the hands on his face holding him tighter and something in him kicked into action. He snapped his eyes open and jerked back, testing the chains around his wrists.

Except.

There were no chains.

No one to torture him.

There was only Gale.

There was nothing only about Gale. He looked gorgeous, radiant, looking down at him, his hands still hovering in front of him, eyes wide with some kind of emotion Astarion couldn't even begin to parse. He couldn't take his eyes off Gale, of his beautiful, brown eyes, capable of showing so much depth Astarion could drown in them.

“Is it your illness? Do you want me to take you to Shadowheart?” Gale asked.

Gale knew? How? Why? It wasn't his concern, so why would he have paid attention?

“Oh, Astarion… Don't look so surprised. Ever since Moonrise Towers, you've stopped talking. And breathing. Of course, I noticed, I —” Gale cut himself off and ran fingers through his hair, tousling the curls framing his face so prettily. “I quite enjoy listening to you talk, believe it or not.”

Astarion had no idea what to say.

He settled for a signed insult in thieves’ cant.

A girl stealing incense from the offerings snorted too loud for it to be discreet, an entirely too undignified and conspicuous, for someone pretending they are not stealing. Astarion lifted an eyebrow at her. She should have a better poker face.

“I don't know what that means, Astarion. Do you need help?”

The girl covered her mouth with her hand and sneaked closer. Nosy urchin.

“He said you're a bloody idiot.”

It was quite satisfying to see Gale almost jump out of his skin and swear there, right in front of the statue of his bitch of a goddess, as he turned around to see who had interrupted them. His eyes softened as soon as they landed on the girl looking up at him with all too big eyes she had clearly learnt how to utilise.

She made the most pathetic display of misery and shyness, and she played the part well. Rather, well enough to fool soft hearted fools like Gale.

Astarion rolled his eyes. Not only nosy but cheeky too. You didn't just hijack someone's con. Rude. He had to admit Gale was a good target, at least for the moment, being distracted by so many things at once. If Astarion had been out to rob him Gale wouldn't even have his underwear at this point.

Astarion signed for the girl to get lost.

“Oh boo, keep your mark then, you look like you'd need the money,” the girl sniffed.

Astarion shooed her but she didn't disappear before Gale managed to slip her a few coins. Astarion saw her swipe a few extra but what did it matter.

Gale turned back to him and Astarion nudged his head towards the statue of Mystra.

“So, what was up with her Weaviness?” he drawled in a hoarse whisper.

Gale sighed and sat next to him, to the annoyance of the priest watching them but the glare Astarion levelled at him made him avert his gaze in a hurry as soon as their eyes met.

“She wants me to reforge the Crown of Karsus and give it to her.”

Astarion made a gesture for him to continue.

“But… what if I were to reforge the Crown and not give it to her. All that power at my fingertips, how could I let it go?”

Astarion made a tired sigh.

He should have known Gale would go for power. That his hubris would lead him this way as soon as he had laid his eyes on the Crown.

What else did he expect?

That the words Gale had said to him in the Outer Planes really mattered?

"Don't die."

"What?" Astarion rasped and forced his eyes back open. He wasn't sure when he had closed them.

He looked at Gale, who seemed he wanted to say something, who had at some point, without Astarion realising it himself, taken Astarion's hand in his, his eyes intense as he looked at Astarion.

"If you stop breathing the priest will think you have died for real this time." Gale smiled, a bit self-deprecating and sad and Astarion was sure those were not the words he had been about to say.

"Technically he'd be correct," Astarion said, almost choking on the last word.

"Astarion," Gale reprimanded him but his next words sounded more urgent, "Astarion, please don't close your eyes. Let's get you to Shadowheart, okay?"

Astarion thought he'd reply but not a single breath of air could leave his lungs and all he managed was a strangled wheeze.

He was so tired.

~

“Astarion, we can leave if you don't want to be around her.” Tav turned to look at him, her eyes wide with what Astarion would have once thought sympathy.

“Oh, now you care about what I want? How novel.”

"Astarion."

Instead of Tav, it was Gale who said his name in reprimand. Astarion would have sighed if he'd had breath for that. He, however, did not so he just gave Gale an unimpressed glare.

“Let me take you back to Elfsong," Gale continued, as if Tav wasn't glaring daggers at them. "There's no reason to talk to that vile woman, she can have nothing to offer that requires us to be here.”

“Ugh, let's just get this over with,” Astarion murmured, ignoring Gale. Tav smiled at him as if she'd won something. She probably had in her mind; if nothing else, his obedience.

Whatever Araj Oblodra had been making, smelt even worse than her rancid blood. And she seemed excited despite trying to burn down the entire neighbourhood. Or maybe because of it. Astarion wasn't sure, he had stopped listening, yielding to whatever it was the drow wanted of Tav and, inevitably, of him.

“Mmh.” Jaheira hummed unhappily interrupting whatever Tav was talking about and when Tav turned to look at her she continued as if she hadn't just interrupted her. “I need help scouring the sewers, Astarion is coming with me, he knows the sewers better than anyone.”

“What an excellent idea! I'll join you, the more the merrier!” Gale exclaimed but Jaheira brushed him off immediately.

“No, we don't need to draw attention, you can stay here and do — whatever it is you wish to do here. We'll see you back at Elfsong, no?”

“I wanted to spend time with Astarion…” Tav pouted, crossing her arms. Like an entitled child who had their favourite toy taken away.

“Astarion knows the comings and goings better than I do. We won't be long.” Jaheira didn't wait for an answer. She grasped Astarion's wrist gently and dragged him away, leaving Gale looking between them and Tav, surprised by his dismissal and their quick retreat.

Astarion had no idea where Jaheira was dragging him. But wherever it was, it definitely wasn't the sewers.

“Cazazdor always warned us to stay clear of this neighbourhood. Never said why, though," Astarion mused.

“The last spawn who tried was sunk into the cobblestones and left for the sun to find," Jaheira replied.

An involuntary, incredulous giggle burst out of Astarion's mouth and Jaheira looked at him and shrugged, her demeanour completely without remorse.

“I had an unfortunate taste for theatrics, in my youth,"

“Mm… Yes, that was probably it.”

Astarion wondered if he'd turn into a flower bush or a tree if Jaheira were to bury him under the cobblestones. The citizens of Baldur's Gate would probably trample whatever the parasite in his lungs managed to grow from his corpse.

A stern half-elf girl greeted them at the house (which notably wasn't in the sewers) “You didn't bring that girl.”

“No, I brought this one instead.”

“Hmph. At least he's pretty.”

“My name is Astarion, I've been travelling with Jaheira for quite a while.” Astarion bowed as he introduced himself, flashing Rion his best smile despite his voice rasping unpleasantly in his raw throat.

“Does he always flirt this much?”

“Unfortunately,” Jaheira said, completely unimpressed. “You'll get used to it.”

“Excuse me? I am a perfect gentleman! I would never —” Astarion choked on the last word. He had to turn away, away from Jaheira's knowing look and away from the unimpressed glare her daughter sent his way.

“Astarion, this is Rion. She's been keeping the house standing while I've been away.”

“Someone had to. Mother.”

“Yes, we talked about this already. Be a dear, and go find Jord.”

“Oh, now I'm given instructions,” Rion drawled but one look from Jaheira had her roll her eyes and leave.

“We will be in the basement, tell him to meet us there.”

“Yees, mother.”

Jaheira led him to an overgrown study and opened a secret door that led down to an underground cave. An underground cave that was booby-trapped because of course it was. This was the High Harper after all, she deserved to have a bit of drama. It was a nice trap though. Even gnomes wouldn't get past the glyphs.

It wasn't surprising that this was the only piece of nature in this horrible pit of misery and despair they both — quite unfortunately — called home, Jaheira could have.

“Alright, cub, spit it out,” Jaheira said as she bullied him to sit down on the veranda.

“What wonderful children you have. Do I get to call you mommy now?” Astarion rasped, barely suppressing a cough.

“I will leave you to choke if you continue that," Jaheira said and crossed her arms, no doubt to convey how utterly unimpressed with him she was.

“Such charming words.” Astarion smirked despite how the words felt like they stuck in his throat and choked him.

Jaheira rolled her eyes at him.

Astarion would have sighed if he could. Instead, he pushed fingers into his throat and dug out flower petals and placed them on his palm, spitting the rest he had managed to unlock to the pile. Cup shaped red flowers. Touch-me-not. How fitting.

“Hm. Just as I thought," Jaheira said, not even reaching to touch the flowers. "At least you weren't foolish enough to try to deny it, no? Who is it?”

“Well, it doesn't matter, does it?” Astarion's voice came out muffled and he coughed a few more petals.

“If you're planning on dying of this then sure.”

Astarion giggled. This whole thing was absurd. “Pardon me for not wanting to die immediately.”

“So you'll die slowly instead?”

“I won't die before I kill Cazador!” Astarion hissed and promptly choked on more petals loosened by his rapid breath.

“Listen to yourself! How can you beat Cazador if you're half dead already yourself?” Jaheira snapped.

“Oh, and you have a solution then?” Astarion asked sarcastically.

“Not a permanent one, no."

Plant magic.

Of course, it had to be plant magic.

His only consolation was seeing Jaheira's kid look decently horrified and nauseous as Jaheira manipulated the plants inside him and wiggled them free through his throat.

“How is he not dead?” Jord whispered, probably thinking he spoke quietly enough Astarion wouldn't hear him.

“Technically, I am already dead,” Astarion said at the same time Jaheira said,

“Vampiric regeneration.”

“Mother?” Jord asked even more quietly than before.

Jaheira didn't answer him but Astarion assumed there would be words later.

Lying still as blood pooled beneath him was familiar. Not very pleasant, but so few things in life were, in his experience.

“One more and then we're finished for now, no?” Jaheira asked without really asking as her hands were already glowing with magic.

“Sure, why not," Astarion said with fake cheer, blood dribbling from his lips. "This is far more pleasant than lying in the pool of my own blood usually is. No one is even threatening to flay me if I won't behave.”

“You better make good of the promise of not dying before we get to kill Cazador. I'd like to get a few stabs in myself," Jaheira said as she manipulated the last plant out of his mouth.

“Oh, so it's a ‘we’ now?” Astarion rasped as soon as he could and wiped some of the blood from his chin.

“As if I'd let foolish kids run off into danger without supervision.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Next time I will let you suffocate.”

~

Tav took the staff in her hands and turned it around, inspecting it as if it was a fascinating instrument instead of something that would destroy seven thousand souls for one person to achieve immortality.

She didn't even look at Astarion. She didn't look at Cazador, who was finally defeated, too weak to get on his feet. She didn't look at either of them despite holding their fate in her hands.

“Give that to me!” Astarion demanded. Somewhere, under all the fury and rage and fear of Cazador he knew he shouldn't have sounded so harsh, so angry, so demanding.

“No, I won't!” Tav said, finally looking at him and the expression in her eyes was a familiar one; She knew she owned him, she knew she could twist and turn her words until Astarion believed all she said. She knew she could make Astarion follow her every command and she wanted this.

“Impero tibi!”

The staff fell from Tav's hands and clattered to the floor.

It looked so innocent and fragile, just lying there, waiting for someone to grasp its power.

Tav stared at her hands. Her gaze rose slowly to Shadowheart, her eyes were blazing with rage as she glared at her like she wanted her to drop dead, like she wanted nothing more than for Shadowheart fall to her knees in front of her to beg for forgiveness.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, enraged even further when she couldn't move her legs.

“Letting Astarion decide for himself.” Shadowheart's voice was calm as she picked the discarded staff up.

“I was going to break it!” Tav screamed. “This is wrong and he knows it! He doesn't need to ascend, he has me!”

Shadowheart ignored her. She turned to Astarion, holding the staff for him to take if he so desired. Still, her expression was serious, wary.

“It's seven thousand souls, Astarion. Do you really think a ritual that needs so many souls would make you better? Would it be worth losing yourself?” she asked.

“I would be free. I would never have to be afraid again.”

“And you'll be free regardless.” Shadowheart said softly. “Cazador will die. He will no longer have the power to hurt you. You are enough just as you are, Astarion. There are plenty of people who care about you.”

Astarion's gaze slid to Tav, to her still furious eyes.

“Astarion, look at me,” Shadowheart said. “It doesn't matter what she thinks.”

"Listen to Shadowheart, cub," Jaheira said, sounding winded and totally exhausted. Astarion wasn't even completely sure where she was amongst the corpses, only that Minsc didn't seem too concerned as he grabbed Tav who was about to launch herself at him and Shadowheart or at Jaheira. "Those who want to decide everything for you rarely have your best interest in mind."

Astarion nodded slowly and took the staff in his hands, ignoring Tav who screeched insults at the High Harper. And he looked at Shadowheart, who seemed to believe he was a better person than he truly was. She had walked away from her abuser. Shar had released her as much as she ever would. Did that make her weaker? Walking away from all the power Shar had promised.

He lifted the staff and snapped it against his thigh, tossing the pieces over the edge of the platform.

He had a knife in his hand, Cazador was kneeling at his feet, trying to save his miserable life by insulting him. Nothing he said could ever hurt him again.

It

was

over.

It was finally over.

Cazador was dead.

~

Gale sat beside him, their eyes fixed on the grave in front of them. Astarion had meant to come alone. He thought he had moved quietly enough no one had noticed him leaving and yet, when he had arrived at the graveyard, Gale had joined him, sat beside him, as if this was something… normal.

This was the place where his torment had begun. Where Cazador had been waiting for him as he crawled out of the grave, dug his way through six feet of dirt, collapsing at his feet, coughing and spitting up coagulated blood.

“Any particular reason why you came here?” Gale asked. Astarion knew Gale was not stupid; he must have noticed the name and the date on the stone, he must know what this place was, who's the old headstone was.

“I should probably get used to the shadows again,” Astarion mused quietly. He should probably be grateful of the time Jaheira had given him but he couldn't if it only meant shadows and loneliness.

“Don't be absurd! There's plenty of ways we could go about this after the Absolute has been dealt with. For example —”

“Gale,” Astarion sighed. “Do shut up, dear.”

“Right! Of course.”

Astarion didn't really have breath to speak. He wanted to tell Gale about all the torment, about Cazador, about all he went through.

But what was the point in the end? Cazador was dead, and when The Absolute was gone, Gale would be gone as well.

“Maybe not seeing the sun again is just the price of freedom.”

Freedom. Hah! As if he'd ever truly acquire it, not as long as there was a parasite in his lungs slowly devouring him, tying him to the wizard who had no idea what he was doing to Astarion.

And yet, Astarion wanted it all. Wanted it so much it hurt.

“It's been nice to have companions. To be trusted, even if trusting me was objectively stupid thing to do.”

It was about Gale. This was all about Gale. Astarion looked at him, looked into his beautiful brown eyes and the truth slipped out of his mouth, like he'd had no control over the words pouring from his lips but he was too tired to regret.

“I feel safe with you. Seen. And for the scant few days we have left it's nice to have that.”

“You talk as if you will die with the Elder Brain.”

“So do you,” Astarion said, painfully aware Gale had never let go of the idea of blowing up the brain with the Orb, of following Mystra's orders and winning back her favour. “Besides, who is to say any of us will make it out of this alive? We could be mindflayers by tomorrow.”

“I truly hope that is not the case after all this. You killed Cazador. You're finally free. That's worth some rejoicing, is it not?”

What was there to rejoice. He was free but for how long? How long did he have, how long could he have Gale by his side. Any one of them could be dead by tomorrow.

And now that he was finally free of Cazador, he was free to figure out what kind of person he was, free to start to live again, he would lose it all.

He had lost the person who he had been before, Cazador had taken everything. Everything. And now, all that was left was a name carved on stone.

Astarion Ancunín.

Dead and buried six feet under, only a ghost left to stalk the streets for two hundred years.

~

Tav's forceful kiss still tingled his lips as he watched her checking and rechecking her equipment. Nothing else left than to confront the Elderbrain.

If losing one parasite meant the other took over, well, then this was it. No more roots writhing inside him, no more choking on flowers.

No more admiring Gale from afar. Even if by some miracle the flowers didn't kill him, Gale would be gone. He would reforge the Crown to become a god and leave this plane for good.

And Astarion would have to go back to hide in the shadows.

Or — more likely — the parasite in his lungs would kill him.

A faint touch on his shoulder made him turn, to find Gale's beautiful brown eyes looking at him, a small frown between his eyebrows. “Please, before you go. Can I have a word with you?”

“Now?” Tav sighed, her fingernails scraping the leather of Astarion's gloves.

“Yes, now!” Gale snapped and took a deep breath. “What I meant was, if Astarion wants to.”

Tav huffed, annoyed and turned her back on them. “Fine. Hurry up, will you? Baldur's Gate waits for us to save it.”

Tav climbed up, followed by the rest of the party, even Shadowheart who looked at Astarion like she wished to say something but he gave her a small nod to say he was alright. She glanced at Gale and nodded sharply before following Tav.

Gale was quiet as Astarion watched Shadowheart climb up. He wasn't certain he wanted to hear what Gale had to say. But oh, how he wanted to hear Gale speak, wanted it so much it hurt.

“I know this is an inopportune moment to say this, and I probably shouldn't say anything even now but — It's selfish really, wanting you to know now when all is coming to an end but if something were to happen to you and I hadn't —”

Astarion nudged him to get to the point, giving him an unimpressed glare on top of it.

“Right!” Gale rubbed his hands together, a nervous tell, and Astarion couldn't help himself, after all, all was coming to an end and the probabilities of either of them surviving were slim. He took Gale's hand in his and pressed it against his clavicle, as close as he dared without kissing it.

“I'm in love with you.”

All Astarion could do was stare at Gale, his thoughts coming to a halt, his body frozen still.

Sharp, tugging pain shot through his chest, like something was writhing, trashing inside him, twisting him apart, and he clutched his chest, knees giving out underneath him, and he went down, releasing Gale's hand only when he heard a startled gasp.

“Astarion! What's wrong? Talk to me!”

“You can't say that,” Astarion gasped, blood rising in his mouth with every word. “You can't say that and leave me to become a God!”

“Astarion —”

“You'll leave me here for an eternity.”

“Astarion, that's not —”

“But it is.” His lungs felt raw, every breath hurt like knives stabbed through his chest, like hot iron torn through his flesh. And yet, he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop even if he wanted to. “You say you love me and yet, you'll abandon me here, to prowl in the shadows.”

“What? Of course, that is not it, don't be absurd. The Crown offers immense power, it would be foolish to let it go!”

“I love you. I admire you. It's all quite wretched, is it not?” Astarion laughed.

His cheeks were wet.

“Loving you has never been wretched. Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, you captivated me, body and soul. And it crushed me when you threw me away to be with Tav and I swore I wouldn't stand before your happiness. I'd let you be happy and admire you from afar and let you love whoever you please.”

“It's you. It's always been you.”

“But Tav —”

“Tav can rot in hell!” Astarion spat, lifting his head to glare at Gale.

“But you —”

“She's a spoiled brat who thinks she owns me. That's the kind of person you want me to spend my life with?”

“That's not — Tav wouldn't — Astarion, I can fix this.”

“The fuck you can! She'll twist and turn your words until you won't know your head from your arse! That's the person you want to ‘fix this’ with?”

“She can't change my mind, not about this.”

Astarion laughed. Gale was so naive about his own flaws, it would have been funny if it wasn't him in this miserable, inescapable situation.

“Oh, that has worked so well before? Like she hasn't made me do whatever she wants as you have just watched without doing a thing?” Astarion felt blood dribble from his mouth with every word but he didn't care. He wanted Gale to understand that he couldn't — he couldn't —

“If I take the Crown, I can protect you. You would never have to be afraid again, I could help you, I could help so many people, all those whom the gods ignore because they have forgotten their humanity.”

Gale would leave him. Leave him with empty promises.

“No god has ever answered my prayers,” Astarion said. He let his head fall, fingers digging into dirt, like he was grovelling for mercy that wasn't coming. “You will forget me. And in a thousand years, when I've quite forgotten what it felt like to love, I'll think about my love, whose desire for power overtook him. And I'll wonder, how long it took for him to forget? How long until the power overwhelmed his humanity?” His words faded into a dejected, desolate murmur. What did it matter what he said? Gale would leave. He had come this far, he wouldn't turn back now. Not for him.

Gale didn't reply nor did Astarion assume he would. Astarion closed his eyes and spat out the blood pooling in his mouth.

“Godly power I can live without,” Gale said solemnly. “But you? You're everything.”

“What?” Astarion couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't dare to open his eyes, to look at Gale, only to see the deception in his eyes. “You would give up godhood? To be with me? Why?”

“You have shown me how much I have to live for. I love you, Astarion.”

If anyone asked, Astarion would deny making a choked sob. The roots and flowers shrivelled and twisted as they died, tearing his lungs and he coughed up blood and already decaying flowers and leaves, grateful it was dark enough Gale probably wouldn't see anything with his pathetic human eyes.

“Astarion, my love?" Tav shouted from somewhere high above, wilfully ignorant of all the enemies that could hear her. "Come here already!”

“In a moment!” Gale shouted back. Astarion heard the answering groan.

Someone hurried down the cliffside, sand and pebbles accompanying their descent. Every footstep made Astarion's heart sink.

“Astarion! Moonmaiden guide me, what's wrong?”

Astarion felt hands on his back, felt healing magic spread through him like cold water poured into flames.

“It's… it's dead. What did you — Oh.”

“What's wrong with him?” Gale asked in what he probably thought to be a discreet whisper. How had Astarion fallen in love with such an idiot?

“He was… he was dying…” Shadowheart muttered. “He was dying…”

“Astarion whatever this is, I'll do my utmost to help you,” Gale said. “Just tell me what to do and you can consider it done.”

“We have to survive this first, you stupid man,” Astarion hissed.

“Now is not the time, Astarion,” Shadowheart interrupted him and knelt before him, barely blocking Gale from the view. “I'll heal you as much as I dare but, Selûne guide me, you need healing potions. If you weren't already dead this would have killed you! I told you you needed to tell me!” Her voice broke. “You swore you would!” Shadowheart quite suddenly but gently took a hold of his shoulders and pulled his head against her chest, hiding her tears in his hair. “Gods, Astarion, you have to believe there are people who care about you and want to take care of you just because you're you!”

Shadowheart rocked him in her arms, not caring about the blood Astarion was staining her fancy new Selûnite robes with.

“Promise me, promise me when this is over you'll come and find me and I'll heal you, please, Astarion!”

“Alright,” Astarion murmured as Shadowheart released him from her embrace. “I promise.”

“You better keep that promise or I'll be very cross with you,” Shadowheart said, wiping tears from her eyes.

“You wound me, darling! As if I'd ever break a promise,” Astarion lied with as much flourish as he could manage. It wasn't much.

“Is there anything I can —”

“Gale, not now!” Shadowheart cried. “We need to go. Don't you dare to lose him along the way.”

They only had to survive this.

~

The sun burned, scorched, seared his skin and he ran, heedless of all the sounds behind him, unaware if anyone had called after him. All he could think about was finding cover, finding shade to hide in, finding a dark place to crawl into like the vermin he was.

He thought he heard his name, shouted somewhere far behind as he ran, dashing behind some crates miraculously still intact and crawled from shadow to shadow, all the way to a half collapsed warehouse offering a modicum of shelter until nightfall.

All of this and he couldn't walk in the sun anymore. All of these sacrifices and he was back in the shadows.

“Astarion!”

Astarion looked up, with his still stinging eyes, he could barely see a dark haired figure standing in front of him, holding a blanket to guard them from the sun. And even without seeing properly, he would have recognised that voice anywhere.

“Gale? Why are you here?”

“Astarion, I thought I'd lost you!” There was such anguish in Gale's voice Astarion couldn't believe it was real. That Gale was real.

No one came for him.

No one ever came for him. And yet, here Gale was, guarding him from the few faint rays of sun that reached his hiding place.

He didn't know what he should say. What was he supposed to say?

"Don't cry…" Gale leaned over him and gently wiped his cheeks, careful not to rub at the scorched skin.

"Gale! Did you find him?" Gale moved the blanket to reveal Shadowheart, who's pristine white robes were now covered in soot and blood and gods knew what but still she rushed to him and knelt beside him.

"Don't waste your magic on me…"

"Will you shut up!" Shadowheart huffed. "It's my choice to use my magic how I see fit. You were actively dying just a few hours ago and believe it or not, I have no desire to see you dead."

"Where is Tav?" Gale asked quietly and looked towards the collapsed wall where they had entered.

"Minsc and Jaheira are holding her back."

Gale hummed in acknowledgement.

Astarion closed his eyes. He couldn't deal with all of this, not while they were obviously waiting for Tav to come drag him away. He should have crawled into a smaller hole where no one would have found him.

"Astarion." Shadowheart's eyes were uncomfortably intense when Astarion opened his eyes to look at her. "You will be alright. I promise."

Astarion let himself fall to lean his forehead against Shadowheart's chest choosing to believe her just this once, just for as long as the cool healing magic coursed through his body.

It felt like forever before he was forced out of reverie he had fallen into. And even then he refused to open his eyes, choosing to keep his head pressed against Shadowheart's warm chest.

"Astarion! Here you are! Come, I'll take you to safety." Tav's voice was calm and soothing, cajoling, luring him into her trap.

And he was so tired.

"…no."

"…What did you say?" Tav asked, surprised. What right did she have to be surprised by his denial? The audacity of this woman knew no bounds.

Astarion lifted his head and looked at Tav. "I said no. I'm not going with you."

"Astarion, don't be absurd," Tav laughed, disbelief colouring her voice.

"You heard him," Gale said.

"Did the tadpole leave only empty space in your head? You heard what he said." Disdain dripped from every word Shadowheart said. She didn't move aside, she kept kneeling beside him, guarding him against Tav, and wasn't that a novel idea; being protected.

"Are you serious?" Tav asked.

No one said anything. It wasn't worth it to debate with her, Astarion knew it better than the rest. Open your mouth against her and in a few sentences you'd believe the sky to be red. And the longer the silence went on, the more upset Tav got, an ugly sneer rising on her lips instead of the perfect innocent smile she preferred.

“How can you do this to me?!” Tav screamed and stomped her foot. “I gave you everything! You wouldn't have survived without me!”

“Astarion, give me your hand,” Gale said, not looking away from Tav.

“What?”

“Trust me.”

And he did trust Gale.

Astarion took his hand.

It was suddenly much darker than it was just a moment before. Astarion dared to open his eyes. They were no longer at the docks but someplace indoors, a warehouse if Astarion had to guess and Gale was squeezing his hand hard.

"What now?"

"I have to get the Crown from Chiontar before someone else gets to it and reforge it."

Gale's words made Astarion cold, colder than he should have been even as undead.

“I won't abandon you, not after all this,” Gale said and took Astarion's hand in his. He pressed a gentle kiss on Astarion's knuckles, gentler than anyone had ever kissed him. "I'm going to give the Crown to Mystra."

"What?" Astarion asked. His voice made an undignified squeak he refused to acknowledge. "You'd honestly give up all that power for Mystra?"

“It isn't for Mystra," Gale said and placed a hand on Astarion's cheek. "When I'm with you, I forget my goddess. I love you, Astarion. I'm not willing to give that up."

Astarion stared at Gale.

“You're insane,” he finally said.

Gale laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling with joy, with what, if Astarion had been equally insane, he might have thought happiness.

“Come with me. To Waterdeep. There are thousands more days ahead of us, countless of ways we can get to know each other, to make up for the lost time."

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” Astarion asked with as much doubt as he could muster.

“Yes, I guess I am.” And Gale laughed, helpless and relieved. "I love you. I love you more than Mystra, more than I have ever loved anyone. It would be my honour for you to accompany me to my home."

~

Waterdeep was beautiful.

Gale was beautiful.

Astarion’s chest hurt, just as Shadowheart said it would, for a long time yet.

But he had Gale by his side. Gale in all of his human glory, Mystra-forgiven, Orb-free. The one person he thought he could never have.

And they were alive. Despite all the odds, they were alive and here and together.

Astarion took Gale's hand, not letting his eyes wander from the scene in front of him. Gale laced their fingers together and Astarion dared to look at him, look into those beautiful, soulful brown eyes and Gale smiled at him, raising their hands to kiss Astarion's knuckles.

They would have this, for as long as possible.