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Astarion had to say something. It was absolutely eating him up inside and he hated it and he couldn't keep lying to Fen. Not that he was lying at this point, he actually meant it when he called them darling
Which was the entire problem, really.
Today, they'd been in Moonrise towers. Astarion, Karlach, Gale, and Fenora had first spoken to a trader that gave Karlach soul coins from an old acquaintance in Avernus that apparently enjoyed torturing the tiefling. They had to listen to each coin's story; Fen looked like they would be sick. They'd tried to convince Karlach not to take the coins, as they already had some, but she'd insisted.
Astarion had heard and caused sad stories for centuries, and shrugged it off, but Fenora seemed deflated. He'd wanted to comfort them, but it felt wrong to squeeze their hand or show affection in the stronghold of the Absolute, so instead he'd merely commented about putting them to better use than any devil would. Fen had merely nodded.
They were supposed to meet Z'rell, but Fen and Gale both wanted to have a look around first. They found a cat, which delighted Fen. They'd talked to it and told it what a good hunter it was and their mood had improved drastically. As a result, so had Astarion's, and really the rest of the party's.
But then they'd encountered the Drow.
Astarion didn't remember her name and didn't care to. She'd smelled wrong , disgusting, like her blood was tainted. It wasn't just slightly off like Gale's; the stabilization of his orb had gotten rid of the strange undercurrent Astarion detected from him. No, this smelled like some kind of terrible illness, a taint. He'd unconsciously stepped closer to Fen, wanting to be nearer to their pleasant scent.
"Oh, and the vampire spawn, he belongs to you, yes?"
Astarion hadn't even had time to get upset before Fenora answered. Their face had hardened and their tone'd been sharp steel.
"Astarion has a name, and he doesn't belong to anyone but himself."
"Aw, I'm sure he believes that. I've always wanted to be bitten by a vampire, since I was a little girl." The entire group had looked at the Drow like she was insane. She probably was. "I'll give you a potion of incredible value if you have Astarion ," she said his name as if indulging a child, "bite me. What do you say, spawn?"
Astarion had balked. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass."
"Come now, don't be petulant."
"I said no!" Astarion had realized suddenly he was shouting. The Drow had huffed and turned to Fen, demand already coming from her lips.
"Make your spawn beha-" the Drow's words had been cut off suddenly, as Fenora pressed the tip of their dagger to her throat. Their voice had been as angry and dangerous as he'd ever heard it, fierce and protective. Deadly.
"He said no." The whisper rang out over the complete silence. The Drow had schooled her features and attempted to appear in control.
"You're missing a unique and powerful opportunity."
Fen had practically hissed their response. "There is nothing you can offer me that would make me force someone to touch you. You are vile, and if you ever so much as look at Astarion again, I will kill you."
Astarion had glanced at Gale and Karlach. Gale had seemed surprised, but not disapproving. Karlach had been grinning like a maniac. Of course, the tiefling did love a bit of violence for a good cause. Was defending him in this situation a good cause? Did people other than Fen think that?
The Drow had put up her hands, keeping her eyes on Fenora. "Of course, my apologies. I didn't realize."
Astarion didn't actually remember much after that. Fenora had checked on him, he thought, after the group had left the room. There had been something with goblins and Kethric Thorm, getting assigned some ridiculous fetch quest for the immortal bastard, and then they'd gone back to the Last Light Inn. Fen had been telling everyone what they'd learned, including Halsin and Jaheira, when Astarion had gone upstairs.
He was sitting, staring out the window. He had to tell them. But he had to work up his courage first. His first idea was alcohol, but that seemed like a recipe for disaster. But he needed...something. A bath perhaps. Yes, that sounded rather nice. He'd feel better when he was clean, when he'd scrubbed that disgusting Drow's leering off his skin. A bath it was.
When Astarion finished, he went to find Fenora. The others had forced their de facto leader to take a room to themselves. They could see how exhausted the ranger was, and wanted to give them a bit of luxury. The group was probably also sick of hearing them with Astarion at night. And occasionally during the day. Really any time, though, he wasn't particular, and Fen...well, actually, Fen was content to just sit with him. Oh, they very clearly enjoyed the other options as well, but it was odd to just be around someone. It made Astarion itch. It was easier when they did something, and that something was sex fairly often.
The other thing they did fairly often was reading together, which was...actually rather fun (though also noisy). Astarion had found a book they both rather liked, a silly thing about a magician and a queen that had been in that mushroom colony, and they took turns reading to each other. Eventually they would both get tired and simply fall asleep in whichever tent they were in, usually. It was...nice. A bit domestic, even, which terrified Astarion if he thought about it for more than a few seconds, so he largely didn't think about it.
Unfortunately, Fen was also happy to simply sit with Astarion while doing menial tasks like sharpening weapons, fletching new arrows, or mending clothing (well, usually he mended clothing. Fenora's stitches were atrocious), or even while they did nothing at all. They would hum off-key, or tell him a story they'd heard (Astarion couldn't remember any stories, just awful memories), or just gently lean against him. Without the added, interactive task of reading together, it allowed Astarion's mind to wander. It made him nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cazador was most dangerous when he was quiet, pretending to ignore you. You had to be quick to appease him or throw someone else in his path.
So Astarion did the only thing he knew how to do, really, when he ran out of tasks to occupy his thoughts and hands. He'd trail a hand up Fenora's thigh, kiss their neck, whisper in their ear. Fen would melt into him with a sigh, trusting and sweet. Sometimes Astarion was able to enjoy their touch without having to escape, without feeling disgust with himself, without thinking of Cazador's mocking disdain, but so often it felt empty or confusing or just so, so overwhelming. It wasn't even as though the feelings were bad they were just...so much at once.
Sometimes Fen could tell.
His sweet, infuriating ranger. They would stop whatever the two of them were doing, and he could see in their eyes that they knew. They knew something wasn't right, even if they couldn't put their finger on it. So they would say no for him, because he didn't know how. And it was always such a relief. Gods, it was a relief. How do you tell someone that you cared for, who was beautiful and perfect and that you desperately desired, that it was a relief not to have sex with them?
All this meant that somewhere in his mind, he understood that Fenora wouldn't be angry with him, at least not how he understood anger. That they would never hurt him, or strike him, or torture him for making a mistake. But understanding it and really believing it were two different things. And, even if they didn't strike him... gods, what if he hurt them? Disappointed them? That was so much worse.
As a result, when he knocked on the door frame, and asked to come in, Astarion was terrified.
"Hello, darling." His voice was soft, and he knew it lacked his usual light, flirtatious tone. "May I come in?"
Fen smiled warmly at him, as they always did. Their green and amber eyes showed nothing but...well, Astarion thought perhaps it was something like love, but he truly wasn't sure. He didn't remember what that looked like. It was at least affection, he was relatively certain.
"Of course! I was hoping you'd join me. I do like sleeping next to you when we get the chance." They patted a spot next to them on the bed. Fenora sat cross-legged with a needle and thread, carefully stitching a hole in their traveling clothing, or as carefully as they could, anyway. Astarion would fix it later with a small, neat backstitch that would hold up better. For someone with such dexterity with a bow and dagger, they really lacked the fine motor skills for sewing. "Come, tell me what's on your mind."
Of course they knew. They always knew. Astarion shut the door behind himself as he took one step, then another, into the room.
"I wanted to thank you." His voice sounded strange as it hit his ears. Low, almost confused.
Fenora set down their work and tilted their head to the side. It was their cute little habit when they were confused. He loved when they did that; it was infuriatingly adorable. How someone of their height and musculature could ever look adorable was a complete mystery. By rights, Fen should only ever look awe-inspiringly stunning or terrifying.
"You're...welcome? I think?" They clearly had no idea what he was referring to. Of course not! Ha! Threatening to gut someone who dared harm one of their little tadpole family was nothing special to Fen. Astarion recalled that they'd offered to fight Mystra when Elminster had given the goddess's ultimatum to Gale. Mystra. The goddess of magic. How exactly did they think that would go? That she'd consent to a duel with hand crossbows? They'd also tried to fight Mizora, and had happily fought those faux-paladins of Tyr. Gods, what an idiot. They'd get themselves killed that way, and then where would he be?
"For what you said to that vile Drow back at the tower. You could have told me to bite her, and it would have been so easy to just...do it. Just a moment of disgust and I could have pushed through and gotten us that potion."
Fen frowned and got up, walking over to him. They held his face, and kissed his forehead gently before they spoke. They were so, so gentle. He didn't deserve it. It was all Astarion could do not to flinch sometimes. Cazador was sometimes gentle before he struck.
"Astarion, starshine, I will never ask you to do something like that. I meant what I said: nothing she could have offered would have been worth taking away your choice."
Astarion's mouth twitched up at the endearment. It was ridiculously saccharine. He hated it.
Or, well, he wanted to hate it. It was exactly the kind of syrupy sweet nonsense he loathed in other people, but found endearing in Fenora. That they had put in thought and effort for something so trivial was...he wasn't even sure. It was something.
He took a breath. "You might...you may feel a bit differently after I say what I need to say."
Fenora tilted their head the other direction, considering, as they let go of his face with a soft pat on his cheek. Weighing each word carefully to assign meaning. Astarion had no idea how he'd ever thought they were stupid; Fen was highly skilled at reading people and situations, and seemed to understand what he was feeling before he did. The fact that they could only read the most basic documents until recently was irrelevant, and they'd been improving quickly with his help. He was rather proud of them, really. Sometimes they worked on math, too. Astarion rather liked being able to teach them something, and their eyes lit up so brightly when they improved.
Gods, his supposedly simple plan really had gone completely to the hells, hadn't it?
"See...I had a plan when I met you. A nice, simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your emotions until you were sure to protect me. It was simple. Easy. All you had to do was fall for me, and..." He took a breath, voice starting to falter slightly. "All I had to do was not fall for you. And...that's where my nice, simple plan fell apart."
Fenora looked at him strangely. He couldn't read the expression, and it scared him. But their voice wasn't angry when they spoke; it was encouraging. "Go on."
Astarion took a breath. "You...you're wonderful. Perfect. You deserve something real." His voice was straining and cracking. Shit, he had to keep it together. "I want this to be something real."
Fenora's face softened, and it gave Astarion the courage to keep going.
"For two hundred years my only purpose was to seduce anything with a pulse. My only worth was my body, and even though I know this is different, that you're different, I can't help but feel those same feelings. I don't know how to be with someone in a normal way, physically or well, otherwise." He was just confessing now. He'd thought this through but it had fallen apart and now he was just trying not to lose his composure. "But I....gods, I want to try." He stared at the floor.
Fenora's hand caressed his face, the barest touch, gentle and designed to calm a rapidly beating heart, had his heart still beat.
"Astarion, I care about you. I knew you started this with...complicated motives, and I accepted that. I grew fond of you regardless; I've always been partial to you. I think," they paused, considering their words. "I think I could tell you were hurting, really badly, and I wanted to help because no one deserves to hurt like that. And then I got to know you, and I saw you're funny, and loyal, and sweet in your own way. So, I care about you, not what you can do for me, not your body, just...you."
Fen wasn't given to long speeches, and this one took Astarion aback. He wasn't sure what to say.
"Really?" His voice was a whisper.
Fenora's face filled with that beautiful, warm smile that felt like the sun on his skin. "Really. We can be together without sex, without anything that makes you uncomfortable, for as long as you need."
Godsdammit, Astarion could feel his eyes watering. Why did they have to be so...so perfect? It was infuriating.
It was such a relief.
"That almost sounds like a challenge." He managed, with a hoarse sound that may have been a laugh. Why were his eyes wet? Godsdamn inn must be so full of dust and cobwebs and-
Fen's thumb wiped a tear off his cheek. Hells.
"Being with you, being around you, is never a challenge. It's one of my favorite things, starshine." Their arms moved tentatively, and then all the sudden, and Astarion was pulled into a hug.
It was shocking, frightening even, and he stiffened on reflex. Affection wasn't safe. Affection led to death or torture or endless regret. It was the calm before the storm, the hand that caressed before it struck.
Astarion took a breath.
But that had all been before Fenora.
He relaxed, and let his head rest on their shoulder and his arms wrap around their waist.
Gods, it felt so good.
It felt better than sex, or wine, or killing, or even drinking blood. It felt like comfort and trust. It felt like freedom and love. It felt like safety. Astarion never wanted to let go.
When was the last time he had truly felt safe? He had no idea. He barely remembered any of his time before Cazador. He remembered the events that led to his death and undeath, but little else. He didn't remember what color his eyes had been; he didn't remember what his face looked like. He wasn't even entirely certain of his own last name. It started with an 'A' as well, he thought. There'd been no point in remembering after he'd become a vampire. There'd been no real point in anything.
But now there was a point. A purpose, other than avoiding pain.
Fen loosened their hold and stepped back. Astarion felt almost giddy, full of nervous, excited energy, the same way he'd felt when he first drank their blood. He spoke without thinking, without contriving the perfect response.
"Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing."
Fen just smiled at him, waiting for him to continue. They always seemed to know when he had more to say. Or maybe they just gave everyone a few extra seconds to speak, to be sure not to interrupt. It didn't matter.
Astarion held out his hand. "But...I know that this?" Fenora placed their hand in his, and he cradled it. "This is nice."
They smiled, and placed their other hand on his.
"It is nice, isn't it?" They looked around the room, then back at Astarion. "Do you want to stay here with me tonight? Or will it be easier for you to stay by yourself? I think I may actually be in trance longer than usual. It was a long day."
"Here, with you. I...I think I'd like to spend most nights with you, if that's alright. Being closer to you feels...safer."
That made Fenora smile brightly, as if he'd just said they were the most beautiful person alive.
"I'm glad! I want to make you feel safe, more than anything." They let go of his hand and went to move their mending aside and started to remove their shirt before stopping and looking at him.
"Oh, uh...Should I stay dressed?"
Astarion considered the question. His confusion and fear around sex and intimacy didn't stop him from responding to Fen's closeness with desire. If anything, the complete lack of any touch besides sex and punishment for 200 years had given him a trained response, like a dog who sits for a treat without being asked. Touch him, and he'd start to get aroused. Astarion remembered with great humiliation the times he'd gotten hard, even came during torture because the right parts of his body were touched. He hated it. He hated himself for it.
"I...well, I'll...uh, respond to you being nearby regardless. It was...extremely rare that I was close to someone for any reason other than sex or violence over the last 200 years."
Fenora paused, processing the information. They often took their time to fully process what others said, to mull over the statements before giving their thoughts.
"That makes sense. I'll probably respond, too. But we don't have to do anything about it. We can just ignore it, or if it helps, we can talk about it. If you want to do something about it by yourself, that's okay too. We'll figure out what works best together." How in the hells did they get so damn understanding? Did they just wake up that way? Were they the chosen of some cuddly, precious god he'd never heard of? He supposed it didn't matter; Fen was here and they were perfect and he just needed to let them be that way.
They went to their bag and pulled out a truly massive shirt that would likely have been baggy on anyone except maybe Halsin, pulled off their travel clothes, and yanked on the sleep shirt, before flopping onto the bed.
Fen was decidedly not being alluring. They were being themselves: unaffected, unused to being observed, full of graceless, strange habits. Astarion frequently heard them talking to themselves, or saw them bite their nails, or reach into their shirt to adjust how their compression band sat. None of it should have been attractive or endearing. It should have been appalling and uncouth.
Astarion, however, was an idiot who'd fallen for the most unrefined, naive, musclebound thembo that had ever existed, and found himself watching them with a broad grin on his face.
Fenora was his unrefined, naive, musclebound thembo. They cared about him with all his flaws and complications, and despite the worm in his brain, the oppressive shadows outside, and their likely impending deaths at the hands of the Absolute or Ketheric Thorm, Astarion had never been happier.
He removed his shirt and shoes and crawled into bed with them. Fen snuggled in close, wiggling happily like a dog trying to wag an invisible tail. Astarion would never admit it, but he adored when they did that. He judged the success of his attempts to woo and please them by whether he was rewarded with a wiggle.
Thinking about it, Astarion realized Fenora wiggled the most when he and they were just near each other. When he let Fen cuddle with him, sometimes a difficult thing despite how much part of him enjoyed it, they nearly vibrated. Talking and laughing and doing chores near each other were other popular wiggle-inducing events. The realization hit Astarion like a lightning bolt.
"Gods, you actually enjoy my company, don't you?"
Fen looked up at him from their place resting on his chest, head tilted, confused. "Uh...yes? I've told you that a lot of times, haven't I? I swear I have."
"You have, I just...I guess I didn't really believe you." Astarion's voice was soft. He hadn't. No one wanted to just spend time with him. They wanted to use him, to fuck him, to beat him, to torture him. He didn't remember anything else.
"But you believe me now, right?"
"Yes, I suppose I do."
"Good!" They wiggled again and stretched up to kiss his cheek, before rolling onto their back and pulling Astarion against their chest. He really did like this. He loved being comforted and held. There'd been so little comfort in the last two centuries. Being in Fen's arms felt safe and warm and far away from all the terrible things that hunted and haunted him.
The scent of Fenora-sweat, orange peel soap, the undercurrent of their blood, and now instead of the freshness of the outdoors, the strange scent of the shadows-was all around him. His skin was warming from their closeness, and Astarion felt like a cat in a ray of sun. Fen ran their hand through his hair; the touch drew a purr from Astarion. He loved it.
"You're so beautiful." Fen always said it with such reverence, like they were seeing him for the first time. Like he was a work of art, and not a half-starved former slave who sometimes woke from a trance shouting, terrified of a dream.
"I am. People really don't say that enough." He really was. By far the prettiest person here, godsdammit. Oh, Wyll was handsome, and Gale was good-looking in a way that almost seemed to hint at a rebellious streak somehow (Astarion supposed having sex with your god was a bit rebellious, but otherwise the man was a real wet blanket). But Astarion was pretty. It was his only undeniable quality. Even Cazador thought he was pretty.
He stiffened, mind wandering to what Cazador did when he told Astarion how pretty he was. Suddenly he felt Cazador's cold hand in his hair, Cazador's silk trousers under his cheek. He'd been good, and allowed to sit at his master's feet while he entertained his more discerning guests. Astarion was allowed to be eye candy, to be proof of Cazador's power. To be his personal whore and slave for the night.
I suppose you were adequate tonight, boy. Given your ability to follow basic commands for once, it seems you've earned a reward.
It was never truly a reward.
Astarion had considered mutilating himself after the first time, but it would heal, and he knew what happened when he was disobedient. He couldn't go back into the ground, not again. Panic was surging through him at the thought. Not the dark, not alone again, anything but-
He felt warm hands on his face.
"Astarion? Starshine, come back to me. Stay here with me; you're safe." Fen's voice was so different from Cazador's cold, nasal derision. Astarion took a deep breath, though he truly didn't need to breathe. It was habit more than anything.
Godsdammit, he was shaking and oh, for the love of-he was crying too, or beginning too.
And...he was...hells, no, no he hated this! Shit-
If he was alive, Astarion's face and neck would have flushed a deep crimson in shame and anger. It wasn't enough that Cazador had made the last 200 years a new, tenth hell. He'd... he'd fucked up Astarion's mind! How-he'd hated that monster's touch. He'd feared it and dreaded it and scrubbed himself raw afterwards. So why was he hard from the memory?
Because he was sick, clearly. Disgusting and vile. He couldn't be with Fen like this; he shouldn't even be around them! They were so good and kind and-
"Talk to me, starshine . Where did you go? What's wrong?" The soft brush of their thumb on his cheek.
"I am. I'm disgusting." He spat the words to avoid tears.
"No, you're not. Whatever you thought, whatever you felt, that's not you. You're the actions you choose, not your memories or thoughts or reflexes."
"You have no idea what I did," he hissed out. "What I chose...what...what-" Astarion shut his eyes tightly. "I shouldn't be aroused by it but I am. What's wrong with me?"
"Nothing." Fen's voice was completely calm and completely certain. "Nothing is wrong with you."
Astarion was so angry at them, at their infuriating belief that he was-he didn't even know! They didn't understand. If they would just listen, they'd see what a reprehensible, disgusting wretch he was, how utterly rotten he was inside.
"Nothing?! I'm laying in bed with the most caring, gorgeous person I've ever met, who, for some unknowable reason, wants to be with me despite knowing I was lying to them, who actually enjoys my company, which is objectively terrible, who-who doesn't even-who," Astarion couldn't even get it out. Who wants me for more than sex. Who wants me even without sex. "-and do you know what I thought of? I thought of him , and how he used me and his-" he wouldn't say it. He couldn't; it was too much, and the specifics didn't matter. "And that is what got me excited. Not you, not your sweet, kind touch, not your care, that fucking monster." He let out a strangled sound that was almost a sob.
There was silence. Astarion had finally driven them off. Well, it had only been a matter of time. He waited for the shock to fade into disgust, for their hands to move and their body to withdraw and to be left cold and alone.
"Did I ever tell you why I left the city?"
What? What did that have to do with anything?
"What?" Astarion must have looked as confused as he felt.
"Guess not. Makes sense, I don't think I've told another person." They took a breath. "After my parents died, I did whatever I could to survive. I was... Maybe 12? Looked younger; I was small for my age."
That got a harsh laugh from Astarion.
"You? Small?"
A wry smile from Fen. "Right? Hard to believe now." Fenora was looking away. Their hands were still on his face, but Astarion detected a tremble. It pulled him from himself, the strangeness of it, and he reached up and brought their right hand to his chest, holding it. They looked back at him.
"Thank you."
There was a long pause, and Astarion waited. He could tell this was important, and anything that kept him from thinking about himself was welcome.
"I, uh, didn't have any money, and I tried to to get work cleaning or something, but no one wanted to hire a kid. I tried stealing, but I wasn't a very good thief. Wasn't a very good scammer, either, as I'm sure you can imagine."
Astarion let out a bark of a laugh. He absolutely could imagine it. "Did you tell them up front it was a scam? Or just refund them every time? Both?"
Fen smiled at him. "Bit of both."
"You're too precious." Astarion squeezed their hand. They'd apparently changed very little over the years in that respect, and it made him smile.
"Yeah, well, I've got you for when we need a bit of 'embellishment.'" They said the word in an imitation of his voice that was a bit too on the nose, before continuing.
"So...maybe a year into sleeping wherever the guards weren't and being hungry at all times, I, um, I gave up. I did what most of the kids did, and started whoring." Astarion's eyes widened.
"What?" Of course they had, he should have guessed, he had guessed, but he'd never really thought about it more. He'd assumed Fen had turned to that when they were older. They were so sweet and soft; he couldn't fathom them doing that to survive, not...gods, not that young. They'd been a child! Even by human standards!
Of course he knew that people had those...perversions. Whenever he found someone leering at an urchin, it was an easy decision to bring them to Cazador, if he could get them interested. But the thought of it happening to Fen was even more disgusting, even more horrifying. He had no idea what to do. Astarion grasped their other hand tightly and hoped it helped. He didn't know how to help, not with this.
"At 13, I started whoring. At first only sometimes, when I was desperate but...I could get paid better if I was clean and made up a bit, and I couldn't afford that from the few normal jobs I could get. So, within the year I was doing just that, really. It's what most of us did, honestly. I was pretty popular, too." They said the last sentence with a sort of twisted pride that Astarion knew all too well.
"As I'm sure you can imagine, an elf child was uh, very popular with the patriars."
Yes, he could imagine, and he didn't want to. He didn't want to think of his precious, sweet, gentle ranger being forced to do those things. He didn't want to think about disgusting, lecherous perverts taking advantage of their desperation. Truly, Astarion only wanted to think about killing every single person that had ever even looked at Fen that way as violently as possible.
"You don't have to tell me this." His voice was soft, and Fenora looked at him with a fondness that made his chest ache. It was becoming a familiar sensation with them.
"I do. I need you to understand, and... honestly, I've never told another person. I told a couple animals, but that's it. I think I need to say it. To a person, you know?"
Astarion was at a loss for words. They were trusting him with this? Not Karlach, or Halsin, or Gale or anyone else. Just him. That was...that was terrifying! He didn't know how to comfort people! He knew how to seduce people, and how to murder people. Those were his primary skills, and neither were going to help here! Probably? No, they definitely weren't going to help. Gods, what if he made it worse?!
They took a breath before continuing. "Really only used my mouth, so I could keep a knife on me, and because it was easier to avoid getting caught and thrown in jail, and-well a lot of reasons. That kept anything too bad from happening, other than, well, all of it." They laughed a short, bitter laugh.
"Very smart of you, my dear." Astarion kept their hands in his, stroking them with his thumbs. He couldn't decide if he wanted to scoop Fen into his arms and never let them go, or if he wanted to go straight to Baldur's Gate and begin murdering anyone that touched them and still lived. He was sure there were longer lived races involved, and if not, well... necromancy? He could do something with necromancy. Fen smiled a bit.
"Thanks. It was easier to tell myself I wasn't a real whore, too, whatever I thought that meant. My parents would have been so disappointed. Or, I thought they would've been, at the time. Now I think they would have just been angry with themselves." They sighed. "As I got a bit older, it was a little easier to find other work, but nothing permanent or livable. No one wants a whore for a maid, might seduce their spouse, might steal from them, who knows? Can't trust someone who sells themselves."
Astarion sneered. "Those people were idiots. They missed out on the most honest person in existence."
"...thanks, starshine." Fenora gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. They were quiet for a bit.
"One of the patriars I saw fairly often found me one day and offered me more money to do more than usual with him. A lot more money. I should've known better, or thought about it for more than a few seconds, but it was so much money and I was so sick of getting paid nothing to work myself to death scrubbing floors. I was hungry and tired. I thought, why not? This guy's never been rough, and all I have to do is lay back and pretend I'm interested. That's not so hard."
Astarion started to feel sick. Fen wasn't meeting his eyes. He...knew this part of the story better than most, because he had lived it. It's never as easy as just laying back and pretending.
"It, um...it didn't go like that."
Astarion suddenly felt himself fill with a rage normally reserved only for Cazador.
"Who in the hells was it? If he-"
"He was human, love. I'm sure he's dead." It didn't make Astarion feel any better.
"Well...I hope he suffered extensively." Astarion nearly growled the words. He'd find out who it was, and he'd resurrect their corpse and kill it again. Maybe he could find that creepy elf and his white raven...yes, that might be the most effective route. Creepy elf... Astarion wondered how one got in contact with him. Would Gale know? Gale knew weird magic things. He should ask Gale about necromantic revenge.
Fen kissed his forehead, and continued. "I think he planned to keep me for himself. I don't really know. I was only 20, maybe, and I was still small for my age. I was so scared, and he was...cruel."
"I don't remember how long I was there, not more than a month." They took a very long pause, and Astarion wasn't sure if they'd continue. He just kept holding their hands, trying not to think about his sweet ranger being harmed like that. He'd been in the city at that time. Why couldn't he have taken that monster to Cazador? Why did the real bastards never seem to get what they deserved?
"One day he wasn't paying attention, not like normal, when he was-well... The important part is that I killed him. That's how I got away. I killed him and I ran, and I didn't go back to the city for a century at least. Even then, only briefly, and I rarely went into Baldur's Gate proper."
Well, that explained why Astarion had never run into them. Gods, he was so glad they never came into the city.
"But...I um, I still...I don't know, something in me broke. I didn't want sex hardly ever, and when I did, I...needed people to be rough with me. Really, really rough. It was like that for decades. Sometimes it still is. Sometimes I think about him. I try not to, but..."
Astarion let go of one of Fen's hands, and ran his fingers through their hair. "You don't have to justify yourself to me, pet."
Fen finally met his eyes again.
"Well...just know...you're not alone, and I understand, and it's okay." They shifted a bit. "I hope that doesn't, you know, change your opinion of me."
Astarion's chest was hurting again, aching, but it felt different than usual. Sadder.
"Pet, I'd never judge you for surviving." He smiled his charming smile, hoping it put them at ease. "After all, I became a vampire spawn because I didn't want to die, and then spent two hundred years doing terrible things to survive. I don't really have a right to judge anyone else."
Fen laughed suddenly, a short, half-strangled sound. "You judge all the time!"
Astarion let out a huff. He did but that wasn't relevant! It was different!
"Only when it's deserved! I mean really, Wyll gets all high and mighty with me and then we find out he sold his soul to a devil for power? He was asking for it. Ugh, and Shadowheart with that awful hair. I mean, no one can compare to this," he ran his fingers lightly through his own gorgeous locks, "but she could at least try." Really, what even gave her that terrible idea? It almost looked like she'd modeled her hair after vampire fangs. Atrocious.
Astarion felt lips press softly against his cheek before Fen pulled back, smiling despite their wet eyes.
"You always know how to make me laugh; it's what I like best about you, I think."
Astarion pouted. "Not my dashing good looks?"
"Hmmm, well, those are a nice bonus. I mean, it's always nice to be able to look at someone who's so pretty. I didn't even know people could be as pretty as you."
They nuzzled their nose against his; they were always doing cutesy, twee little things like that and Astarion really wanted to hate it. However, much like their little pet name for him, their apparently endless compassion, and how utterly devoted they seemed to be to him, he had to admit that he adored it.
But only most of the time.
"Darling, you've been living in the woods for two hundred years. It's not like you have much to compare me to." Astarion smiled and preened anyway. "But yes, I am very pretty, aren't I?"
Fen kissed his forehead. "You are. But you know, starshine, I'd like you even if you weren't pretty."
Astarion tsk-ed. "Come now darling, there's no need to lie. I know what my best attribute is."
Fen looked a bit bemused. "Astarion, when have I ever lied to you?"
He thought about it. Certainly they'd omitted a bit, particularly their past, but that was more than understandable given, well, everything they'd just said. He hadn't exactly been thrilled to share details about Cazador.
They'd been honest with him about everything, he realized. He couldn't think of a single time they'd lied to him, or a single time he'd found out they told another member of camp something different than they told him.
He blinked, and tilted his head, voice suddenly heavier. "You're...you're being serious, aren't you? You really do like me for...me." Gods, not again, he could not cry again, this was ridiculous! He hadn't cried in at least 150 years!
Fen smiled sweetly, and nodded. "Of course I'm serious." Their smile turned a bit sillier. "When it comes to how I feel about you, you could even say I'm...dead serious."
Astarion felt his expression flatten.
"Five minutes into this relationship and I already want to break up with you." Well, at least he wasn't at risk of crying anymore.
Fen laughed, and pulled him close. "Too late. You already agreed so you at least have to give me until tomorrow morning." They were smiling into his hair, and he was smiling against their shoulder. Gods, how had he gotten so lucky?
"I guess, but I reserve the right to leave you if you make any more terrible vampire puns." Astarion snuggled into them, tangling his limbs in theirs, savoring their warmth and their smell. This was-
"Do they drive you batty?"
He groaned.
"Really? Really? I just got comfortable and now I have to dump you." He could feel Fen's laughter reverberating in their chest. Gods, what an idiot.
"You're so easy to tease. It's fang-tastic."
Astarion gave a half-hearted shove at their shoulder as Fenora continued to giggle. They giggled, which was the strangest thing he could imagine given how godsdamn tall and muscular they were. It had him grinning back as he spoke.
"That's it, I'm leaving you. You brought this upon yourself, you know."
Fen kissed him, light and playful, and Astarion kissed them back. He loved this ridiculous person, with all the silliness they fit in their kind, loving heart. Even if it did mean tolerating horrible puns. Really, really awful puns.
Maybe especially if it did.