Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If Halsin had his way, the only proof that they’d had any formal ceremony at all would be the bite marks on the inside of Astarion’s thighs. But since it was, apparently, impolite to show those off in public, Astarion had to insist they have a party, at the very least. And even though it wasn’t a proper wedding as Astarion knew them, it would be the first ceremony of its kind in the newly rebuilt Reithwin — that had to merit some form of celebration.

“Our union is not meant to be public. I merely wish to proclaim to nature that I will keep you always in my heart.”

Astarion was in the middle of altering a dress that would be worn at the second, actual wedding in Reithwin. He took the pins out of his mouth. “It’s about giving our friends something to come to so they can give us expensive gifts. And we haven’t seen Karlach in ages. Oh, how did she describe her new life?”

“Tearing up the Sword Coast,” Halsin said.

“Yes, well, if she could stop for a moment and pop by for a drink, that would be lovely. Here, make yourself useful, at least.” Astarion stood and rolled his shoulders, gesturing toward a pile of fabric bolts. “Put those in the back?”

Halsin hefted them easily onto his shoulder. When he returned, Astarion was sitting on the shop counter, reaching for his hand.

Halsin sighed. “You’re going to guilt me into giving you a party, aren’t you?”

“Darling—” Astarion kissed him. “I don’t need to get one from you. If I want one, I’ll have it. You may either attend or stay home, the choice is yours.” He kissed him again, slower now, before winding his legs around Halsin’s waist. “I adore you. I love you. And if you really don’t want anything at all, I won’t complain too loudly about it. I just…even if it’s not traditional, I’d like to celebrate, I think.” He toyed with the collar of Halsin’s shirt. “Celebrate…us. I think we’re a marvel, don’t you?”

Halsin smiled, leaning forward to pressing his forehead to Astarion’s briefly before drawing back. “Indeed we are, my heart. And, I will confess, the idea is quite tempting.”

“There’ll be dancing. I know you love dancing.”

“I do like to dabble.”

Astarion grinned. “And I like to watch you.” He gave Halsin a gentle push and hopped off the counter. “Right. You should get home, I have more work I need to finish before morning.”

“Do not dawdle here until the sun is too high, Astarion.”

“I’ve only done that five or six times, will you please stop holding it over my head?” Astarion submitted to one last kiss before returning to his work.

The tailor’s shop had been Gale’s idea, actually. He’d come through Reithwin for a tenday a few years back, marveling at all the ways the place had changed. Astarion had given up being a hired blade the year or so before — one too many brushes with death had left a bad taste in his mouth, and everyone had scattered or gotten too busy to make coin that way. Astarion loved Halsin, and he loved being in Reithwin, despite its more…provincial charms — but he was terribly bored.

“You’re not too far off from the city, you know. You could work a shop there, if this place is so dull.”

“It’s not the place, per se. It’s…the settling down of it all. I never imagined having a future. Now that I do, I’ve no bloody idea what to do with it.” He was on the floor of his and Halsin’s sitting room, patching one of Gale’s ugly cloaks. “You really should replace this. The fabric hasn’t been in fashion since the Age of Humanity.”

Gale raised a brow. “There’s an idea.”

“What?”

“A tailor’s shop. A place for you to fix things and take advantage of wealthy patriars vacationing in the hills. I saw their estates on my way in. They have more than enough coin to spend on cloaks they don’t need.”

Astarion considered this. “That’s…true.”

“The whole bloody town loves Halsin. I assume they love you by proxy.”

“They’re tolerating me.” In truth, Astarion didn’t go out much. Reithwin was relatively quiet at night, and he felt strange wandering the streets or the hills by himself. Sometimes Halsin joined him, but he worked during the day and was often tired so late at night, needing to trance and rest before sunrise. “I’d have to keep strange hours. Or at the very least invest in some high quality window treatments.” Astarion finished the edge of the cloak and bit the thread off with his teeth. “I’ll…take it under consideration,” he said.

Now, more than a year later, the shop was still there, and so was Astarion. He had a small batch of assistants — Yenna, who’d left Baldur’s Gate with Halsin and the others years before, had been his first. She and her cat made runs to the big houses. Astarion hired another young man with a horse and cart to be his eyes and coin in the city — between the two of them, they helped Astarion keep things moving.

It was like chewing glass admitting to Gale he’d been right. Worse still that he was doing well enough to hire someone for the shop itself. She was a tiefling named Mariella, and she’d been advertised to him as “a woman with no fear.” Astarion gave her a job on the spot. She ran the front end of things, showing off new fabrics to clients, or chatting casually with the locals. Reithwin wasn’t booming, but each month seemed to bring a small handful of new people, enough that Astarion could hear the clatter and noise from the market coming through the window midday.

A month or so before the party, Astarion began working on a nice doublet for himself, and a new tunic for Halsin. Nothing flashy, of course, but Astarion wasn’t going to be caught, well, dead, at his own celebration in anything less than what he considered perfection.

“Oh, that’s lovely, Master Astarion.” Mariella set a cup of tea on one of the tables in the back. “Beautiful colors.”

“Do you think so?” he asked. He’d chosen a deep, rich emerald velvet for Halsin’s. “I think he’ll call it too much, but he’ll wear it all the same.”

“He’ll look very handsome. You both will.”

“Thank you, love.” Astarion set down his shears and picked up his saucer and cup. “Did you run back to the house and fetch the mail?”

“Oh, I did, sir.” She handed him a stack of letters. “You and Master Halsin seem to know such important people.”

“Do we?” Astarion glanced at the stack. He spotted Wyll’s name on top and smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”

“And something from a Selunite temple. That’s real special.” Behind her, the bell over the shop door rang. “Oh, pardon me. Be right there!” she called, and dipped through the curtains separating the two rooms.

Astarion turned his attention to the mail. He had responses from most everyone, except Karlach. He didn’t know if she’d write to say she was coming, but Astarion had hopes. He hadn’t received a reply from Gale either, but Astarion assumed he’d lost his invitation and would simply show up when it was time. He’d have a place all the same.

It was all such a simple thing — dinner with friends, with people from the town who respected and loved Halsin. Children who, in the last few years, had become teens holding their own. Grown folks who’d arrived broken, now whole and laughing. It was all tragically saccharine, and Astarion tolerated it because he loved Halsin —

But he loved Reithwin, too. This strange, scrappy little place that he’d seen at its veritable worst. A place crawling with ghosts and beasts, begging for death. It lived, now, in spite of everything.

Astarion smiled, and went back to his work.

Karlach showed, in the end. She arrived late three nights before, singing and knocking on their door, a bag of gifts in her hands. She covered Astarion’s face in trail-dusty kisses, pinched his cheeks and howled at the moon. Halsin embraced her, and they fed her and put her in the spare room where she snored so loud she woke the neighbor’s dogs.

Everyone came, filling their little house with food and noise, throwing blankets and cots on the floor. Astarion closed the workshop and let Mariella run the front end of things. Each night, people pitched in, setting up tables and running twinkle lights from one tree to another. Gale was handing out scrolls to any capable wizard who could handle them, declaring that less wasn’t always more. By morning of, a whole little part of the town had been transformed. Even Halsin was in awe of it all.

“It will look beautiful after sunset,” he said, running a hand over the tunic Astarion had given him. “My heart, this is too much.”

“It’s not,” Astarion insisted. “It’s for you so, really, it isn’t enough.” Astarion began helping him out of his shirt so he could try it on. “I know your measurements by heart, of course, but let’s just check, hm?” He watched Halsin dress, admiring his own work. “I am good,” he murmured. “It’s a perfect fit, naturally.”

Halsin chuckled, pulling him in for a kiss. “I never doubted you.”

Astarion smiled. “Good of you to learn that lesson before tonight.” He hesitated. “You’re sure you still want this?”

“The party? Astarion, it’s a bit late to go back now—”

“Me,” Astarion said quickly. “Are you…certain you still want me. Like this?”

Halsin shifted back on one foot, looking Astarion over. “You would doubt me now?”

“It’s not a doubt, per se.” Astarion freed himself from Halsin’s grip and began inspecting all the hems of the tunic for the hundredth time. “I just want to be sure we’re doing the right thing. That you…won’t change your mind, perhaps.”

“Astarion.”

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly. “Forget I said anything—” He gasped as Halsin yanked him close and growled in his ear.

“I have wanted nothing more than to declare my love for you to the stars since you returned here. In my own way, I already have. But to do so with you, to speak your name and declare that I will keep you, always?” He kissed Astarion fierce and sharp. “It’s all I’ve thought of, since you agreed. You will recall, I was the one to suggest it.”

Astarion remembered that night — remembered the two of them, bare in the grass, Halsin’s teeth at his neck, his confessions seared into Astarion’s skin. To declare, Halsin explained, was to make your love known. It neither bound nor forbade, did not prevent one partner from leaving, nor stop new lovers from being known. It was ceremonial, symbolic in nature.

Astarion loved it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t fucking terrified all the same.

Halsin kissed him again. “Astarion, if you don’t want to do this—”

“I want it,” Astarion said, near-breathless. “Gods, do I want it. I just…can’t help what I am.”

Halsin nodded. He pulled Astarion close and kissed his temple. “All will be well, my heart. Nothing about us will change. My feelings will not change. I know them, as I know you.” He kissed Astarion once more, and Astarion let himself feel as brave and strong as Halsin believed him to be.

He’d have to, to make it through the night.

Shadowheart performed the ceremony. Astarion would have suffered no one else. She wrapped their clasped hands in the lengths of discarded fabric, soft rope and vines, and spoke the vows.

“As your hands are bound together now, so your lives and spirits are joined. Above you are the stars, and below you is the earth. Like the stars, let your love be a constant light. Like the earth, let your love be the foundation from which you continue to grow. May your hands be blessed. May they have the strength to hold tight and weather the storms ahead, and may they always be tender, as you nurture the bond you share. It is spoken, and so, it is.” Shadowheart sighed. “Oh, go on then and kiss.”

Halsin pulled Astarion close and Astarion wound his free hand in Halsin’s hair to draw him down. When they met, Astarion swore he could have felt a shiver down his spine, like the moon was really watching, like she knew what they’d done. Halsin kissed him breathless, and all those silly light scrolls Gale had handed out went off at once.

It was dramatic and silly and ludicrous — Astarion loved every second.

And though their hands were freed, Astarion was reluctant to let Halsin go far from his side. He stayed close, as everyone danced and drank around them, their fingers threaded together while people from town congratulated them and set little gifts on the table.

“We can’t accept these,” Halsin said quietly.

“Oh, darling, we absolutely can. Most of it seems to be bread.”

Eventually, their friends came around and stood on one side of the table, looking a bit too smug for Astarion’s taste.

“What’s wrong with you lot?”

“We have a gift for you,” Wyll said. “Well, two gifts.” He held up a bag and withdrew a githyanki disk. “This is a message from Lae’zel.”

“How did you—”

Wyll held up his hands. “I didn’t ask. It showed up and there was blood on it and I decided the less I knew, the better.”

Astarion turned the disk over in his hands. “I miss her,” he said, glancing at Halsin. “Terribly.”

“While she’d be loath to admit it, I think she misses you, too. Both of you,” Gale said. “We also have one more gift. Everyone helped with this one, even those of us who aren’t here.” Gale held a small box toward Astarion. “It took us a while to find, and frankly us having it and you two doing all this is really just a big, ridiculous coincidence.”

“I thought you’d planned it,” Shadowheart said. “But you’re not that clever.”

Astarion scowled at her as he took the ribbon off the box and eased the lid open. At first sight, he stopped and looked quickly at Halsin. “...Did you do this?”

Halsin shook his head. “I’m as clueless as you are.”

“He didn’t,” Karlach said. “We really wanted it to be a surprise, and you have no idea how much I wanted to say something when I got here.”

Astarion reached into the box and withdrew the gift. It was a silver ring with a solitary ruby in the center. The metal looked like it’d been recently polished, but it was clearly very old. Astarion held it up to the light. “Well…this is very nice, but if you’d all like to declare your love for me, then I’m going to want a second party.”

Gale rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bloody engagement ring, Astarion. It’s—”

“It’s a sunwalker ring,” Karlach said, putting both hands on the table and leaning forward. “It’s so you can walk in the sun, you beautiful thing. Gods, you have no idea how many demons I had to kill to find this.”

“Or how many bribes were made,” Wyll said, looking sheepish.

Shadowheart nodded. “How many scrying spells we used—”

“How much bloody teleporting some of us did,” Gale added. “We had help from Lae’zel, too. She said the githyanki had records of it because they’ve got records of basically everything. Jaheira and her Harpers knew about it as well.”

Astarion frowned. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

“I believe Karlach explained it quite well,” Gale said. “You put that on, and you can walk in the sun. Simple as that.”

Halsin reached out to inspect the ring. “Where was it?”

“Well—” Each of them launched into one explanation or another. Astarion heard something about a Thayan jewelry merchant and something else about Gale winding up in an old god temple in Chult — but he could scarcely make sense of it all. He took the ring back from Halsin and slipped it on his finger.

It was a perfect fit.

“It can’t be true,” he finally said. “This isn’t…there’s no such thing as this.”

“There is,” Gale insisted. “I promise you.”

“But it can’t be that simple, really. There must be some kind of cost, some…some catch.”

“Only that you need to wear it all the time,” Shadowheart said. “It’s not the ugliest ring I’ve ever seen. And silver is your color.”

Astarion glanced down at his hand. He didn’t feel different, now that he was wearing it. The ring didn’t burn or feel especially heavy. The only change he felt was at the table, as his friends watched him.

“I’d still exercise caution,” Gale said. “If that comes off during the day, you will burn. I’m working out an enchantment so it’s harder to remove. Still ironing out all the details, obviously, I’ll be ‘round when I’ve figured it out. But…it is what we said it is, Astarion.”

Karlach smiled. “You can walk in the sun again.”

“I haven’t given up on your cure,” Shadowheart said quickly. “We’re looking for wish scrolls, and Gale could learn it once we do.”

“Pesky spell. Causes a lot of trouble, so it’s not so easy to get your hands on.”

“Right…” Astarion grabbed his wine glass and drank deeply from it. “Gods. You really did all this. For…for us?”

“Well, you’re the ones getting married.”

“Not a marriage,” Astarion said, and Gale rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes, whatever you’d like to call it. I mean, honestly, we just wanted to do this for you because we…well, you know. We all—”

“We love you,” Karlach said. “We all love you, Astarion. And we just want you to keep being happy.”

He looked at them, and he wasn’t sure what else to say or what else to do — he got up and climbed over the table, and threw himself into their arms.

Halsin had the decency to go around, at least, but he was there, too and even though they weren’t all together, even though their lives had taken them all over and separated them and drawn them apart — they were together, somehow, and Astarion, in his cold, dark little heart, felt a great leap and a spark.

“Don’t make me say it,” he muttered.

Shadowheart frowned. “Say it.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh, fine. I…I love you, too.”

Wyll grinned. “What was that?”

“Fuck off.” Astarion rubbed angrily under his eyes.

“Sorry we made you cry at your wedding,” Karlach said.

“Not a wedding,” Astarion muttered, but he laughed all the same.

Their house was still crowded when Astarion woke in the morning — he could hear Karlach and Wyll snoring while someone puttered around the kitchen making tea.

Halsin kept the windows covered tight, so there would be no worries for Astarion come sunrise — he swore he’d never again lay in a coffin, and Halsin heartily agreed. But it meant there wasn’t a speck of light when he woke, and there was something he very desperately needed to do.

Halsin rolled in his sleep, arm searching for Astarion as he slipped out of bed before mumbling something into his pillow.

“Just a moment, darling. I need to check something.” Astarion went to one of the windows in their bedroom and pried the thick curtain from its place. His bare skin tingled in anticipation, and he quickly glanced for a safe spot to hide, in case he was the greatest fool who’d ever lived and the ring was a wretchedly expensive dud. If it was, he’d find who sold it to his friends and flay them alive, but first…

With a grunt of effort, Astarion pulled back the curtain, and let the light flood in.

He tensed, preparing for pain and heat — but it never came. He looked down at his hand, bathed in sunlight, and marveled at it, same as he’d done in those first moments after falling from the nautiloid. Wonder, fear, panic — it all filled his mind at once, catching his breath in his chest as he stumbled forward and let more of his naked body stand in the sun.

“Astarion!” Halsin was out of bed and upon him, pulling him away. “What are you doing?”

“Halsin. Halsin—” Astarion wrenched back, showing him the ring. “It works,” he said. “The bloody thing actually works. Look!” He thrust his other hand into the light — they watched together as absolutely nothing happened.

“Oak Father preserve me,” Halsin murmured. “I…I didn’t doubt them, of course. It just…”

“Seemed too good to be true? That’d be me rubbing off on you, darling. Terribly sorry.” Astarion stepped further into the light and pulled Halsin close for a long while. “I know you wanted to ravage me under the moon, but I quite like this setting, I think.”

“Our home is currently occupied,” Halsin said, hands trailing over Astarion’s body. “What a marvel…” Nude and standing in the sun like this, Astarion suspected they looked a bit like a work of art themselves. But he needed to show everyone their efforts hadn’t been wasted, so he reluctantly pried himself from Halsin’s hungry mouth, and convinced him to get dressed.

“I will have you,” Halsin said, nipping Astarion’s ear.

“No fretting,” Astarion said. “I’ll make sure you get your fill.”

three months later

“Mariella, darling, come take this out front. Lady Devon will be here any minute, and she’s a wretched old hag.”

“Um, of course sir.”

Astarion glanced up. Mariella looked very nervous, which was a rare thing for her. He sighed. “Why are you standing there like you’ve just seen a ghost? Gods, please tell me the place isn’t haunted.”

“Um, no sir. It’s just…there’s a Harper here, sir.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Mariella, please.” He led her back to the front and pointed. “It’s just an old dog, pretending it still has some bite.”

Jaheira laughed. “Very funny, little spawn. Have you taken up the bardic arts these days now as well?” She learned against a very expensive bolt of fabric. Astarion glanced down and spotted all the dust from the road she’d tracked in.

He smiled. “Why don’t we go somewhere else, hm? Mariella, once Lady Devon’s come and gone, you can close up for the day.”

“Oh! Thank you, sir. Um, nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“And you, little one.” Jaheira turned and went outside, Astarion on her heels. “She seems very nice.”

“She fearless, so I don’t know what you said to her—”

“She saw the pin and her face went white. Probably some history with the Harpers,” Jaheira said. “Don’t think on it.” She glanced over at him. “It’s good to see you in the sun again. I heard about your wedding present.”

“Not a wedding,” Astarion said.

“Eh, whatever.” Jaheira looked around as they walked. “Look at this place,” she said. “Quite the accomplishment.”

“Halsin’s not here for you to pay him the compliment, and he wouldn’t take it if you did. He’s visiting one of the farmhouses today, he won’t be back until late.” Astarion led Jaheira to the house and let her inside. “I have you to thank for this as well I heard?” he asked, showing off the ring.

“Not really. I did what I could, your friends did the rest. Don’t bother with the tea,” she added.

“For you? I would never.” Astarion set a bottle of whiskey on the table and two glasses. Jaheira gave them both a decent pour. “To your good health,” he said. “Or whatever’s left of it.”

“Brat,” she said, and drank. “So! You asked me to come here, and I did. What’s this about?”

Astarion set his glass on the table before standing again. He went to the bookshelf in the living room and pulled out an old tome, flipping through to find the letter tucked inside.

“Keeping secrets are we?”

“I’ve every intention of telling Halsin, but not until I’m absolutely sure I can go through with it.”

Jaheira sat up straighter in her chair as Astarion returned to the table. “What’s this about?”

Astarion sighed. He looked down at the letter, written in Shadowheart’s cramped, miniscule print. “It’s…about my parents,” he said. “I’ve recently learned where I can find them, and I’m going to need your help.”

Jaheira leaned forward. “Tell me more.”

So Astarion did. He told her how he’d watched them as much as he could after he became Cazador’s spawn, but that one day they disappeared from their family home. For over a hundred years, Astarion wondered where they’d gone, but had never any way of discovering it.

“Now, my life is different. Even without the ring, I have incredible freedom. I feel rather boundless, though I know the notion is foolish.”

“It’s not. You want to find them now, I take it.”

“I know where they are.” He handed her the letter. “I asked Shadowheart to scry for them. They live in—”

“Evereska,” Jaheira said. “Hells.”

“I know.”

“Is this why you need my help?”

Astarion nodded. “The Harpers have a good relationship with the city. If there were something you could do, someone you could speak to, obviously you would be compensated for it.”

“I wouldn’t charge you, don’t be stupid. Though I know that’s hard for you.”

“Awful woman.”

“Why do you want to see them?”

Astarion raised a brow. “...They’re my parents.”

“And you are their dead son. They buried you. As far as they are concerned, there is no possible way you could be alive.”

“I…well. Yes, I know that. Of course I’ve considered it—”

A lie. He hadn’t. He’d been so thrilled by the idea of even knowing where they were, he wrote to Jaheira straight away.

“Astarion.” He looked down as she covered his hand with hers. “I would give anything to see Khalid one last time, but…he is dead. I know he is dead. You have been dead to them for two hundred years. They’ve buried and grieved you. Moved to another city, even.”

“You’re saying I shouldn’t see them.”

“I would never deign to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. I do think you should take all this into consideration. I will find a way to get you into the city, this I swear. But you should be prepared for them to break your heart. I think it would be foolish to expect otherwise.”

Astarion took his glass and drained it before filling it again. “Yes, well. When I want your advice about heartbreak, I’ll be sure to send a message. Nice and slow, so your ancient ears can hear it.”

Jaheira laughed. “Oh, little spawn. I am very glad to see you haven’t quite been domesticated.”

“I saw Jaheira in the village today,” Halsin said, scraping the last of his dinner from his plate. “Were we expecting her?”

Astarion, perched on the sofa, looked up from his book. “Ah, yes, actually. I invited her.”

Halsin paused at the washbasin. “You did.”

“She’s staying with some old Harper friend of hers, so she won’t be back until later tomorrow, but there’s something I…need to discuss with you.” Astarion held out one hand, beckoning Halsin closer. Once he was sat down properly, Astarion set his book aside. “I asked Shadowheart to help me with something. Do you recall, some time ago, I told you I wanted to try and find my parents?”

“I do. I also recall advising you that it may not be the wisest course of action.”

Astarion laughed nervously. “Ah, right. Yes, I think I remember you saying something to that effect—”

Halsin sighed. “My heart, please speak plainly.”

“She found them,” Astarion said quickly. “They’ve been living in Evereska, probably for some time now.”

“...Evereska.” Astarion nodded. “That’s quite the journey. What does any of this have to do with Jaheira?”

“Evereska has an alliance with the Harpers. Jaheira said she could figure something out.” Astarion fiddled anxiously with his ring. Halsin was looking at a point past him, expression stern, but unreadable. “...Darling?”

Halsin looked at him. “This could be…incredibly painful.” He reached out and took Astarion’s hands in his own. “Are you sure you wish to do this?”

Astarion nodded. “Yes. I’m very sure.”

Halsin sighed. “Very well. Then we will go to Evereska, once you and Jaheira have decided on a plan.” He kissed Astarion’s forehead and stood.

“...Wait. You’re going with me?”

“Would you prefer to travel all the way there by yourself?”

“I can handle myself,” Astarion said quickly. “I got along just fine without you before I decided to move here and…acclimate.”

“Astarion.” He took Astarion’s hands again and clasped them with his own. “We are bonded. I declared my love for you. To our friends and our village and beneath the moon. I would be a poor partner if I sent you to that city alone. You should have someone by your side when you do this. If you’d like to send for someone else, that’s fine with me. But I am here, and I love you. It’s only an offer.”

Astarion groaned. “Gods, you’re so bloody reasonable.”

“On occasion, yes.”

“Fine, we’ll go together. You won’t like it, by the way. It’s a stuffy old elf city, you’re going to hate every second.”

“I survived Baldur’s Gate, did I not?”

“Only just,” Astarion said, and followed Halsin to bed.

Jaheira set the Harper’s pin on the table and grinned.

Astarion pushed it towards her. “Absolutely not.”

“You wanted to get into Evereska? This is how you do it. Otherwise I need to write several annoying letters, or find a Harper willing to put up with you long enough to get there. I know of only one and he lives in a fishing village in Icewind Dale. If I could even convince him to do it, he’d take his sweet time getting here, and I’d like you to be able to leave before Highharvestide. So.” Jaheira pushed the pin back across the table. “This is how we do it.”

Astarion glanced at Halsin who looked far too amused for his own good. “You can’t be serious. I’m not a Harper.”

“You are now. Or you will be,” Jaheira said. “I need to read you a few things, and you need to attune to the pin—”

“Attune to it? What the hells does it do?”

Jaheira listed off several spells, protections, and blessings, all of which sounded ludicrous to Astarion — but then, he was wearing a magic ring that protected him from the sun, so what did he know? He picked up the pin and held it in his hand.

“...It’s very light.”

“It’s made of pure silver.”

Astarion sighed. “You aren’t going to be battering on my door at all hours of the night with…work, are you?”

“You may be expected to assist the faction from time to time, yes.”

“You said it wouldn’t cost me anything.”

Jaheira shrugged. “It depends on what you consider a cost, I suppose. You owe me nothing for the pin or the induction. No Harper ever does. But tell me, Astarion. If I came to you, before this, and begged of your help, would you give it to me?”

“Of course.”

“Then it costs you nothing you were not already willing to do. You are my ally. And you are my friend. If all of this will…bring you some peace, or if it will even give you the family you crave, then I will gladly do my part.”

Astarion turned the pin over in his palm. He looked at Halsin. “...What are you thinking?”

Halsin shook his head. “This is your choice.”

“Halsin.”

Halsin sighed. “I think this is a great responsibility, but I’m certain you can handle it.”

Astarion looked back at Jaheira. “Fine,” he said. “Before I change my mind.”

Jaheira smiled. “Very well. Let’s begin.”

“Hold still,” Astarion said gently. “I just want to make sure this back part is right.”

“I’m sure it’s fi—ow!”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Darling, I said don’t move. I’m fixing this part.”

Halsin sighed. “Is this necessary?”

“Yes, it is necessary for you to stand still so I don’t stab you again.”

“The clothes, Astarion.”

Astarion knelt on the floor to get a better look at the hem of the tunic. He glanced up. “I just want us both to have something nice to wear when we meet them.”

“Everything you own is very nice.”

“It isn’t. Not by their standards.” Astarion scowled. “I don’t know why I’m fussing with this, it’s perfect as it is.” He stood and flapped a hand. “You can take it off, we won’t need it until we…see them. If we do.”

Behind him, Halsin stripped off the shirt and folded it into a small chest with their other things. They were packed and ready to start their journey come morning, but Astarion felt…uneven. Held underwater. A single wrong move and he’d fall apart at the seams. He closed the lid on his sewing box and looked up at the mirror above their dresser. Empty of his reflection, of course. Halsin stood behind him and put his hands on Astarion’s shoulders, burying his face in his neck.

“We don’t have to go.”

“Then I’ll have to give Jaheira her fancy pin back.”

Halsin chuckled. “You aren’t getting out of being a Harper now that easily.”

“She tricked me,” Astarion muttered, but his heart wasn’t in it. He turned in Halsin’s arms and faced him. “I want this,” he said. “I know it might hurt, but…the worst things that could happen to me have already happened. If it’s another heartache then it’s another heartache. I’ll deal with it. But I…I am afraid,” he confessed. “Actually, I’m terrified.”

Halsin gathered him close. “Astarion…”

“I can’t turn back now, of course. I’m stubborn and I know it, but I need to see this through to the end.”

“Then that’s what we will do. Together.” Halsin kissed him, slow and deliberate. Astarion gave a low moan and wound his arms around Halsin’s neck, letting himself be pulled towards the bed. Halsin disappeared for a moment to snuff the candles.

“The moonlight,” Astarion murmured, and Halsin smiled, keeping the curtains drawn open before he undressed and came back to bed. Astarion tugged off his shirt and pulled Halsin close. “Thank you,” he said. “For coming with me.”

“You needn’t thank me,” Halsin said, kissing his neck and chest. “I’ll go anywhere with you, Astarion. You know this.”

Astarion sighed as Halsin removed his pants and tossed them away before ducking down and hauling Astarion’s legs over his shoulders. Astarion was soon a writhing mess on Halsin’s tongue as he worked him open and pushed him closer to the edge. He gripped the blankets in both hands and arched his back, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach.

“Halsin. Halsin, please—”

Halsin moaned and kept going, reaching to push two fingers into Astarion’s hole alongside his tongue. Astarion cried out and thrashed, feeling himself close to falling apart before Halsin suddenly drew back. Astarion pounded one fist against the bed as Halsin reached for the oil and quickly slicked his cock before leaning forward and catching Astarion’s lips in a slow, heated kiss.

“I love you every way,” Halsin said. “I love everything you give me.”

“But you love this don’t you?”

“You know I do,” Halsin murmured. Astarion opened his mouth to talk back, but choked on his own words as Halsin’s cock filled him.

“Oh, gods, that’s good.” Astarion yanked him close for another kiss and let himself indulge in the rhythm as Halsin began to fuck him in earnest. The steady motion of Halsin’s hips rocking against Astarion’s, the sound of skin on skin, of Halsin’s breath coming quicker, his heart hammering faster beneath Astarion’s palm — it all melded together into something that had become, over the years, truly them.

“My heart—”

“Have me,” Astarion pleaded. “Please, let me come, please, Halsin—”

“Touch yourself, come for me, I know you’re ready.”

Astarion wrapped a hand around his cock and it only took a few strokes for him to spill over his own fist, panting into Halsin’s mouth. He cried out as Halsin kept going, rougher now, thrusting harder and faster until he slammed into Astarion one last time and came with a low groan against Astarion’s neck. He gave a few short thrusts before he stilled.

Astarion brushed the hair back from his forehead and kissed his sweat-damp brow. Halsin looked down at him adoringly, something that would have made Astarion bolt just a few years ago. He remembered the first time Halsin did look at him that way — it more than rattled him.

But he was used to it now. There was something about the way Halsin didn’t hold back, it was one of the reasons he loved him —

And it was why Halsin was going with him. Because he did nothing in half-measures, and that included loving Astarion.

When they were cleaned up and nearly asleep, Astarion, tucked into Halsin’s side, said quietly, “Do you remember what Shadowheart said? At the ceremony?”

“I do.”

“May your hands be blessed. May they have the strength to hold tight and weather the storms ahead.”

Halsin looked at him. “And may they always be tender, as you nurture the bond you share.” He smiled. “I told you,” he said quietly. “All will be well. Even the coming days ahead.” He closed his eyes and Astarion felt it as he slipped into his trance.

All will be well, Astarion thought. If he believed nothing else, he’d have to believe in that.

Between one thought and another, eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

The journey to Evereska would take a little over a tenday. Astarion wasn’t sure if it was eagerness or simply old habits, but he felt he took to the road again quite well. It helped that they could travel during the day.

“I wish I could be more confident about that ring staying secure,” Halsin said, the second morning of their journey. He handed Astarion a rabbit he’d hunted earlier.

“It fits perfectly,” Astarion argued, but he checked it just to be sure. “I’ll be careful. Would you prefer to travel at night?”

Halsin shook his head. “No, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Forgive a man his worries, my love.” He dropped a kiss to the top of Astarion’s head and began packing the cart again. Their little pony was another ceremony gift, this one from some of the Reithwin elders. Somehow, Astarion had managed to get into most everyone’s good graces, which he chalked up to a great deal of charm and knowing the right druid. Halsin said they were simply good natured folk who wanted to see them both happy.

The pony was cute all the same. Shadowheart had named her Evergreen.

“Easy there,” Halsin murmured, giving the pony her breakfast. “That’s a good girl. You’re going to get us there just fine, aren’t you?”

“Does she have anything interesting to say?”

“She is concerned mostly with food,” Halsin admitted, and finished packing.

Once they were on the road again, Astarion allowed his mind to wander. He recalled his childhood in fits and bursts most days, but there were some memories that held strong. He recalled some nights when he was put to bed and his parents went out, returning home wine-drunk and laughing. They always smelled like pipe smoke when they came in to check on him, his mother’s moonstone jewelry glimmering in the dark.

Goodnight starlight, she would whisper, and press a kiss to his temple, leaving a touch of lip stain on his skin.

“My mother used to tell stories about this place,” Astarion said. “Her grandfather designed some of the buildings. I think she missed it.”

“Was your father not from Evereska?”

“No. Baldur’s Gate, born and raised. I’m surprised she managed to talk him into leaving. He was terribly proud of his city.”

“Perhaps there were too many memories,” Halsin said.

Astarion glanced to the side, watching the trees slowly pass. “...Perhaps.”

After a bout of silence, Halsin said, “My childhood home isn’t far from Evereska. This will be the closest I’ve been in nearly two hundred years.”

“Really?” He nodded. “We could go,” Astarion offered. “If you’d like.”

Halsin shook his head. “I should think not. I have buried my past, quite literally. My family is laid to rest beneath the Grandfather Tree. It is beautiful though,” he added. “Things will be lush and verdant this time of year. I never ran out of trees to climb or places to explore.” His expression grew rather longing, and Astarion reached over and took his hand. “Forgive me,” he said. “Lost in a memory.”

“It’s alright. They seem like nice ones to get lost in,” Astarion said, and kissed his cheek.

Most of their journey passed without struggle or incident. There was one evening, just a day out from their destination, when he and Halsin had to ward off a group of bandits. Astarion took great pleasure watching them flee from the man-turned-bear, and he took greater pleasure still in riding Halsin that night under the stars.

“If you want the beast so badly I will give it to you,” Halsin murmured, and Astarion came without warning, gasping into Halsin’s mouth and shaking with need.

Jaheira told them to stop at the Halfway Inn, an hour outside the city. It was in a bustling little town with a vibrant market and busy streets. Halsin paid to board the pony and cart and they wandered among the shop stalls for a bit. It was novel, standing in the sun and buying something silly for the person he loved. Halsin took the little box of smoke leaves with joy, and kissed Astarion in front of the flower vendor.

“If you aren’t careful,” Astarion murmured, “we’re going to cause a scandal.” The florist was making faces. Astarion gave her a grin and bought a single daisy stem, tucking it into Halsin’s leathers. “Lovely.”

The Halfway Inn was as busy as the rest of the town, even so early in the day. Jaheira said to show the bartender his pin and tell them he was looking for passage into the city. It seemed rather simple when she explained it, but Astarion realized he wasn’t even wearing the blasted thing, it still felt so new. He quickly scrounged it out of his bag and stuck it to his shirt before turning to Halsin.

“Do I look like a Harper?”

“As much as any of them do,” Halsin said.

“Not helpful,” Astarion muttered and walked towards the bar.

The bartender was a lithe half-elf with silvering temples and a haggard expression. He handed off two ales to one of the servers and turned to Astarion. “What can I get you?”

“Nothing, actually. I’m…” He tapped his pin. The bartender stood up a bit straighter.

Oh, he thought. I could get used to this.

“Harper,” the man said. “Good to have you in. Something you need?”

“Yes,” Astarion said, quickly assuming his role. “I’m looking for passage into the city. I was told I might be able to get that here.”

“Into Evereska? Yeah, I can help with that.” He pointed towards a corner of the bar. “That lot over there. They came in this morning to trade. Talk to them and they’ll set you up. That all, ser?”

Astarion dropped a few gold coins on the bar. “For now,” he said. “I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime.” The bartender pocketed the money and went back to his duties. Astarion nodded to Halsin and walked across the bar.

The elves he’d been directed to were chatting and drinking, showing off a few new purchases. They quieted when Astarion approached, and he could feel their eyes on the silver pin.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I was told you might be able to help me. I’m looking for passage into Evereksa.”

“You’re a Harper?” one of them asked. “Haven’t seen you around here before.” He took a long drink from his mug. “I could help, if that’s what you need. I’m heading back in an hour or so.”

“That would be greatly appreciated.”

“You sure you’re not local?” the man asked.

“To Evereska? Well, I have family there. It’s part of the reason I’m going.”

“What’s your house name?”

“Ancunín.”

The man raised a brow and nodded. “I know the name,” he said. “I’ll take you back with me, then. We’ll use my cart. If you’ve got your own, they’ll take good care of it.” He raised his glass. “I’m Mikael.”

“Astarion. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Ay,” Mikael said, and finished his drink.

Halsin had gone back outside and was conversing with an animal trader down the road. Astarion caught up to him and managed to catch the tail end of their conversation — “I always find birds to be chattier than most animals.” — before putting a hand on his arm.

“Darling.”

“Hm? Oh! Astarion, look here at this finch, see the color variation in its tail?”

“Yes I do, love. It’s quite fascinating.”

Halsin smiled at the trader. “Thank you for your time. I wish you luck. A basilisk egg is certainly not an easy item to sell.” He led Astarion further down the road. “Did you find someone returning to the city?”

“I did. Does that man have a basilisk egg?”

“Indeed, but we are not to discuss it.” Halsin stopped and bought an apple. “The fruit here is quite good. I recall traders coming into the forest when I was a boy. It was the first time I tasted spices from the outside world.”

“...Are you certain you don’t want to go there when we leave?”

“I am,” he said. “Tell me what you’ve learned.

Astarion sighed. “Well, we’ll be leaving for Evereska within the hour. Is the pony alright? Can we leave it here?”

“We can. I’ve paid for several days of room and board, and we’ll be charged for any extra when we return.” Halsin stopped and faced him. “Are you quite sure you’re ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. I don’t think it will do me any favors to put it off.”

Halsin nodded. “Very well. I’ll fetch our things from the cart and meet you at the inn.” He kissed Astarion’s forehead and turned to go.

Astarion watched, feeling something heavy drop into his gut. They were about to cross over. He would see his mother’s home, see the city that loomed so large in his childhood memories. That alone was enough to give him pause, but he set out for the inn with all the confidence he could muster. Halsin joined him and they waited for Mikael to signal he was ready to go.

“We’ll take my cart,” he said. “Plenty of room for everyone.” Two other elves nodded towards Astarion. Mikael paid for his horse at the stable and tossed the last bag of his trade goods into the back. Halsin climbed up and reached down for Astarion, pulling him in with the others.

“You ever been to Evereska?” one of the other elves asked.

“I haven’t. I assume you’re local?”

The elf shook his head. “Neverwinter,” he said. “But I joined up with this lot and Mikael’s born and raised, talked me into loving it, too. Most beautiful place you’ve ever seen,” he added, and pulled a pipe from his coat pocket. He turned to speak in low elvish to his partner, who chuckled. Astarion turned away to watch the little town disappear behind them.

Astarion dozed off in the back of the cart until Halsin shook him awake.

“We’re close,” he said, gesturing ahead to a large tunnel opening. “They said these all lead into the city.”

“Right.” Astarion said up and smoothed unseen wrinkles from his shirt. “Soon, then.”

Halsin nodded. “Soon.”

The horse pulled them through the tunnel. Ahead, Astarion could see blazing white light and a handful of other travelers. They stopped and spoke with someone before moving on. When Mikael eventually reached the end of the tunnel, he said something in elvish Astarion didn’t catch, then gestured towards the back of the cart.

An elderly gentleman in fine robes approached. A scroll and pen floated in the air beside him.

“Lord Ancunín?”

“Astarion,” he said, turning toward the man.

“I am Hill Elder Sarengroth. I bid you welcome to Evereska, child.” He bowed his head, and Astarion did the same. “Mikael tells me you are a Harper, but you have personal business in the city.”

“I’m here to see my parents.”

“Of course. And as a Harper, you are certainly welcome here. You have another with you as well?” He looked past Astarion’s shoulder to Halsin. “Ah, forgive me. Are you here from the High Forest?”

“No, but it was once my home,” Halsin said.

Astarion smiled. “Halsin is my partner. He’s come to meet my family as well. He goes where I go,” he added quickly.

“I see.” The quill made some notes on the scroll. “That is fine, certainly. You are both welcome for as long as you’d like, within reason of course. I do ask you to remember you are not citizens and should behave as such. You should seek the Unicorn and Crescent to spend the night and rest. I will make sure Lord and Lady Ancunín are informed of your arrival.”

“...Of course,” Astarion said. That same feeling from before swelled up in him, but he pushed it down. No going back now. The Hill Elder went to speak to Mikael before nodding and allowing them to pass. He kept his gaze on Astarion, but Astarion turned away.

Expect the Hill Elders to be passive and kind. You are a Harper, and the son of one of their families. Step a toe out of line, however, and you will see the power the leaders of the city can wield. They only appear as weak old men. They are anything but.

Jaheira’s guidance was true then. Astarion looked ahead to the white road that stretched before them, leading forward and into the city.

“It certainly is beautiful,” Halsin murmured, and Astarion had to agree.

White, glimmering buildings rose from the stone hill ahead of them. A wide moat surrounded it, and high walls guarded the city inside. Astarion could see where they’d carved into the rising stone above, with the highest point being the Hill Elders’ tower. They ruled the city for centuries at a time from that place, granting and denying passage, keeping the city safe from invaders and the outside world. Astarion knew that the tunnel was merely a precaution. The true magic of keeping Evereska safe was within its walls — spells and wards that kept shapechangers from entering at all, magic that prevented divination spells. Shadowheart had gotten lucky with her scrying, she’d spotted Astarion’s father outside the city, making plans to return home. Any attempts they’d made to look at the city itself had been firmly countered.

But they were somewhere inside. That he was certain of.

Mikael drove through the city, until they reached an inn. He beckoned for Astarion and Halsin to get off the cart. The other two elves tossed their things down to them.

“Good luck,” the smoking one said, and waved with his pipe.

Mikael gestured to the inn. “Unicorn and Crescent, as the Hill Elder instructed.”

“Do you know where the Ancunín residence is, by chance?” Astarion asked.

“Western side of the mount, most likely. Most of the big houses are that way.” Astarion nodded and pulled out a small bag of coins. “Oh, Harper, it’s nothing that needs payin’ for.”

“Nonsense. Take it. You’ve been a great help today.”

Mikael nodded. “I thank you, sir. And best of luck to you. There’s plenty like myself who can help you get back to the Halfway, when you’re ready to leave.” He got back up into the cart and took the reins. “Enjoy the city,” he said, and pulled away.

Astarion had learned some time ago Halsin could get…cranky.

Reithwin was just crowded enough that Halsin got to do the thing Halsin liked most — helping others, building community, participating in the idle sort of small talk which irritated Astarion to no end. But outside their home, here in these great cities, with their walls and constant rabble and noise, noise, noise — it made him a real bear.

Astarion quickly arranged for a meal to be brought to their room before bolting and shutting the door behind them for the night. He ran a warm bath and made tea and it was all rather precious, if he did say so himself.

“You’re doting on me,” Halsin said. “Why?”

“Because you’re rapidly approaching a rather foul mood and I’d like to head it off at the pass, darling.” He set the tea on the wooden board next to the bath and knelt beside it. “Feeling better?”

Halsin sighed. “I am.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “I always forget how loud a city is until we are in one again.”

“It’s been some time,” Astarion said. “Not since you made that trip to Neverwinter.”

Halsin grunted. He had not liked his trip to Neverwinter. Astarion flicked water at him until he smiled.

“There you are,” he said.

Halsin opened one eye and reached out to cup Astarion’s cheek. “Here I am. It’s still warm,” he added.

“Oh, well, twist my arm, I suppose.” Astarion quickly undressed and slipped into the tub. It was cramped, but not unpleasantly so. Astarion leaned back against Halsin and closed his eyes. “If you’re lucky, we won’t be here much longer anyway.”

Halsin stroked damp fingers through Astarion’s curls. “You think they won’t see you?”

“Well, everyone’s told me to prepare for it.”

“It was never my intention to dissuade you, Astarion. If I’ve upset you—”

“You did nothing of the sort,” Astarion said firmly. “Don’t dwell on it. I’m merely…attempting to be realistic.” It’s what Jaheira had reminded him to do. “It would be better than the alternative, anyway.”

“Which is?”

“Must you make me say it?”

“I have never made you do anything, for as long as I’ve known you, Astarion.”

Astarion huffed. “The alternative, of course, is they welcome me into their home, discover what I am, and have me thrown out. Or try to have me killed. It’s not like it’s going to be easy to hide. You figured it out right away.”

Halsin cleared his throat. “You were not especially subtle.”

“Yes, well.” He flapped his hand and grabbed a bar of soap, scraping the edge with his nail.

“Astarion.”

“Hm?”

Halsin gently urged him to look into his eyes. They were nice eyes. Astarion had always thought that, since the first time he’d been able to see them in the sun. They were nice here, too, in the candlelit dark. Halsin kissed him, and Astarion fumbled the soap in the water and turned to climb into his lap. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub and onto the floor.

“No matter what happens, I am with you. No harm will come to you.” Halsin cupped the back of his neck and drew him in for another kiss.

It had taken years for Astarion to believe that. There were still times — the very darkest times — when he didn’t. When he felt the only way for him to survive was to be untethered. This was foolish, of course. His friends had disproved that years before. Halsin every day. Astarion sank deeper into Halsin’s arms and tipped their foreheads together.

“I love you.”

Halsin nodded. “I know, my heart.” He carefully stood and stepped out of the tub, bringing Astarion with him. “Let’s rest, hm?”

Astarion raised a brow as Halsin passed him a towel. “Rest, you say?”

Halsin chuckled. “You need only ask for what you want.”

Astarion dropped the towel. “You,” he said. “The answer is always you.”

Halsin smiled and pulled Astarion flush with his bare chest, taking his chin between thumb and forefinger. He kissed him once more. “As you wish,” he murmured, before lifting Astarion in his arms and carrying him to bed. When Astarion recovered and sat up on his hands and knees, Halsin knelt behind him, wrapping one arm around his stomach and leaning forward, the hard line of his cock pressing against Astarion’s ass. “Is this how you want me then, hm?” He nipped at the back of Astarion’s neck.

“Gods, yes—”

“I do love to take you this way,” Halsin murmured. Astarion heard a bottle open, and felt Halsin’s oil-slick fingers at his entrance a few seconds later. “You fit so well here.” He pressed two fingers into him without hesitating. Astarion was more than used to Halsin’s size by now. His body melted as Halsin fingered him open, hauling him up and pulling Astarion tight against his chest. Astarion eased himself up and down, fucking himself on Halsin’s fingers until Halsin pushed him down onto his hands and knees again. Astarion whined when he pulled his fingers out, then again when he felt the blunt head of Halsin’s cock pressing against his hole.

“You’re always so hungry for it, but you know I won’t deny you.”

“Halsin—”

“That’s it.” Halsin began to press his cock into Astarion, slow and slow and more and more until he was pressed tight against his back, buried balls deep inside him. Astarion’s arms buckled and he dipped his head low. One of Halsin’s arms wound around his waist again, keeping them locked together. “You know I hunger just as much, don’t you?” He kissed between Astarion’s shoulder blades, reaching with his free hand to card his fingers through Astarion’s hair before he got a firm hold on it, pressing Astarion’s face into the mattress.

After that, it was all just…noise. And feeling.

There was the sound the bed made as it jostled beneath them in time with Halsin’s thrusts. There was the sound of their bodies together, skin meeting skin, the wet sound of Halsin’s oiled cock sliding in and out. Astarion heard his own voice, too, melding with everything else. His mind felt empty, all his worries and fears whited out with pleasure. Someday he’d figure out how Halsin could know. He’d burrow inside him and make sense of it all. For now, he let himself be consumed and taken, as Halsin fucked him deep on every stroke, grunting with the effort. He’d stopped treating Astarion as fragile years ago — unless Astarion asked of course. But most nights, he didn’t hold back, and he kissed and soothed every mark he made, same as he wore Astarion’s own without shame.

Astarion was drooling into the bed sheets beneath him and his vision was hazy. He felt Halsin stop, buried completely inside him, and lean in close to his ear.

“Come for me.”

It wasn’t on command, necessarily. Astarion’s neglected cock was hard and leaking precum against his stomach. Halsin had mastered the art of convincing Astarion’s body when it was time to let go. It only took a few words as the head of his cock struck Astarion deep, sending a jolt through him as he cried out. Astarion worked one hand down to wrap around his length and it only took a few strokes for him to release. Behind him, Halsin kept going, gasping as Astarion clenched tight around his cock.

“Tell me you’re ready for me.”

“I’m ready, Halsin, I’m ready, please—”

Halsin arched over Astarion’s body, digging his teeth into one shoulder and coming deep inside him. Astarion felt the pulse of his cock. He gripped the spit-damp sheets in his fingers and cried out, like Halsin’s release was his own.

Eventually, Halsin pulled away, keeping Astarion bent over as he kissed down his back before pushing two fingers into his hole again, sliding through the mess he’d made.

“Very good,” he murmured. He buried his tongue there a second later, making Astarion wriggle and whine until he was done. Astarion hungrily reached for him and licked his mouth and chin, fumbling onto his side and pulling Halsin as close as possible. “Easy, my love.”

Astarion pressed his lips against Halsin’s throat, licking and tasting the sweat of him.

Halsin’s hand fell to the back of his head. “...You should drink,” he said. “To be as strong as you can tomorrow.”

Astarion pulled back and looked up. “You’re too good for me, darling,” he said hoarsely, before sinking his fangs carefully into Halsin’s neck and having his fill.

When they were both relatively clean again and tucked under the blankets, Astarion curled into Halsin’s side. “I think I have a memory of this place,” he murmured.

“Evereska?” Astarion nodded. “It’s quite possible.”

“It could be fake. The years before…” He swallowed. “They’re broken. No way of getting them back. There’s just something familiar about it all.”

“Perhaps because it is as much your home as it is your mother’s.”

“Perhaps.”

Halsin hummed, turning to kiss Astarion’s forehead. After another moment of silence, he said, “I knew elves, from the High Forest, who came to Evereska and never returned. It was said they fell in love with its beauty.”

Astarion looked at him. “Are you afraid of that?”

“I’m not. But it would be unwise not to voice my concerns, even if they are slight.”

Astarion cupped his cheek, drawing him down for a kiss. “That won’t happen,” he said firmly. “I promise.” Another kiss. “The beauty of this city pales in comparison to what I have, my dear. I’m the luckiest spawn in the Realms.”

Halsin chuckled. “Such a way with words,” he said, and pulled Astarion closer.

Astarion looked down at his new clothes and spotted a dozen imperfections.

“I shouldn’t wear this.”

“Nonsense.” Halsin kissed his cheek. “You look quite handsome. Blue is an excellent color on you.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he muttered, before pinning on his Harper sigil. He felt like an imposter wearing it, but Jaheira had assured him it would be for the best. He turned and looked at Halsin. The dark emeralds of his tunic were perfect, of course. Astarion had accepted nothing less. “I like you in this.”

Halsin made a noise. “I feel foolish.”

“You certainly don’t look it.” He finished lacing his boots and straightened. “Right. Well. I suppose we shouldn’t dawdle any longer.”

Downstairs, Astarion secured a carriage ride to the western side of the city. It was mid-morning, nearly noon — by now, he could only hope his parents had been properly advised of his arrival. Showing up unannounced might have sent them into shock — or worse.

At some point during the ride, Halsin reached over and covered Astarion’s hands with one of his own. They were trembling.

“All will be well,” he said, echoing his words from the other night. Astarion could only nod.

When the carriage driver announced they’d arrived, Astarion nearly told him to go back. He couldn’t recall ever feeling this nauseous, this sick with worry, but Halsin urged him forward and paid the driver.

There were guards at the bottom of the hill leading up to a large white-stone mansion. They straightened as Astarion approached.

“Good morning!” Astarion said, shoving his anxieties back down his own throat. “I’m looking for the estate of Lord and Lady Ancunín. They may be expecting me.”

The guards glanced at one another. One nodded.

“Ay, Harper,” he said. “They told us to watch out for you.” Behind them, the gate began to open. “Go on in.”

Astarion looked at Halsin before he stepped through.

The house was a stunning piece of architecture, all marble columns and carefully cared for landscaping in the front. It reminded Astarion a bit of their home back in the upper city, though on a much grander scale. And it was white — stark white, with dark metal accents. His mother’s taste, he realized. All the things she’d enjoyed drawing and sketching when Astarion was young. Even the roses were her favorite.

A heavy rope hung beside the door. Astarion hesitated as he reached for it, fingers twitching ever so slightly before he gripped it tight and pulled.

“Would you look at that? It didn’t even bite,” Halsin said quietly. Astarion laughed unexpectedly, clamping his hand over his mouth. Halsin reached down and took the other hand in his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

After a few moments, there was movement on the other side of the door, and it swung open to reveal an older elven woman Astarion didn’t recognize, dressed in dark clothes and a brown apron.

She put one hand on her hip. “Are you to be the young Master Astarion then?”

“I am Astarion, if that is your question.”

She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him. “Well. It’s none of my business, I suppose.” She stepped aside and opened the door a bit wider. “Come in, then.”

Astarion relaxed and safely crossed the threshold. Halsin followed him inside and the door shut behind them.

“They’re going to meet you in the tea room. This way.” The woman waved for them to follow and began to ascend a grand, curving staircase in the middle of the entryway. At the top, she paused and looked over her shoulder. “I did advise against this,” she said. “But I can’t make anyone’s decisions for them.” She continued leading them through the house.

Eventually, she opened two double-doors into a brightly lit sitting room with chairs and a tea service waiting for them. Fresh flowers were in each corner, spilling over the vases and filling the room with their scent. Sunlight spilled through the windows and illuminated everything. The servant gestured toward two armchairs seated opposite a small sofa and in front of the fireplace.

“You’ll just wait here, and they’ll be in soon.” She checked the temperature on the teapot. “Should keep,” she murmured.

“Thank you,” Astarion said.

At that, she glanced over at him before straightening, both hands planted on her hips. “...You really don’t recognize me, do you?”

Astarion swallowed. “No,” he said. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

The woman nodded. “Ay, well. It’s been quite some time. I’ll tell them you’ve arrived.” She turned on her heel and left.

The room was silent. Astarion fidgeted with his ring.

“Well. This is lovely.”

“It is…quite grand.”

Astarion glanced over. Halsin looked utterly out of place here among all the baubles decorating the room. The walls were covered in a pale, floral wallpaper, and an ornate Calimshite rug was spread over the marble floor. As handsome as he looked, Halsin couldn’t have fooled anyone into thinking he belonged here. Astarion reached out and smoothed a thumb over his brow.

“I’m terribly sorry, darling.”

“Don’t fret over me,” Halsin said, taking his hand and kissing it. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Astarion nodded and stood, walking the perimeter of the room. There were paintings here he thought he recognized, but couldn’t be sure. His mother always had excellent taste in art, being an artist herself. Astarion could recall her easel in the garden, but not the images she created. He touched one of the gilded frames before returning to his chair.

After a half hour and not a peep from anyone, Astarion was getting more than anxious. He stood again.

“This is ridiculous. How long are they planning to make us wait?”

“Perhaps you should put yourself in their shoes for a moment, my heart.”

“You do not know how impatient my father can be,” Astarion snapped, frankly surprised he could even recall that fact. “It’s a bloody family trait.”

Halsin sighed. “If you are looking for reasons not to stay, you don’t need them. We can simply leave.”

“I mean, they were told yesterday, were they not?”

“That their son was returned from the dead and in their city to visit them?”

Astarion scowled, but continued pacing. A clock hung on the wall. He’d give them another thirty minutes, but then he was going. No more wasting his time with these ludicrous fantasies. Gods, he was such a fool to even begin with. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Who had let him do this?

You did this to yourself, he thought, glancing at Halsin. You caused this mess. Everyone else is just kindly accommodating your idiocy.

When the half hour passed and they had still not arrived, Astarion announced they were leaving.

“That’s it,” he said. “We’ve waited here an hour and I am not going to wait a second more.”

Halsin sighed. “Very well. We should find that woman who brought us here.”

Astarion frowned. “You think I’m making the wrong decision?”

“I think you are being very hasty, Astarion, but I can hardly force you to remain here.”

“You’re right,” Astarion said, turning to leave. “You can’t.”

He was halfway to the door when he heard something. The sound of footsteps, just outside, and rushed, frantic whispers.

Astarion froze, staring as the handles turned — and then the doors opened.

Chapter Text

roughly two hundred years ago

Astarion’s father always waited until the last minute to submit his merchant contracts to the city for review. Yet another delightful Ancunín family trait, he liked to say. Reviewing them was certainly good practice for Astarion’s magistrate exams coming up just after midwinter, but it was tedious all the same. Astarion had been shut up in his father’s study for most of the morning and going into the afternoon. Outside it was snowing, and showing no signs of letting up. At least, he thought, there’s a bloody good reason to be locked in here all day.

As if on cue, the door to the study opened. His parents swept in, bickering, it seemed, about the state of the roads.

“If we don’t show our faces at Eomane’s he’ll assume I won’t be renewing the contracts.”

“Evander, please.” Astarion’s mother gestured towards the window. “You cannot expect anyone to take you anywhere in this mess. Astarion—” She turned to him and Astarion looked up from his work. “Please explain this to your father?”

“Ay, but the boy’s on my side, isn’t he?” Evander Ancunín glanced at his son and winked. Astarion rolled his eyes.

“It’s dismal outside, father. But if you’re in the mood to crash another carriage, by all means.”

His mother laughed. “See? He gets logic from my side of the family.”

“He gets his poor sense of humor from your side, too,” Evander muttered. “Laurea, it’ll be done snowing in an hour, by then we should have no trouble—”

“We?” She laughed. “My dear husband, we are going nowhere. If you would like to show up looking like a wet cat in Edgar Eomane’s foyer, feel free to do so. I will be spending the evening in front of the fire with a glass of wine and a book, as Corellon intended.” She dropped herself down into a chair in front of the desk and smiled.

Astarion ducked his head to hide his grin.

“Oh, fine. I’ll make it up to Edgar some other way,” his father said, and plopped down in the chair beside her. He leaned forward. “Are you still looking over those contracts, boy? Good gods, it’s been all day!”

Astarion sighed. “Well, if someone had done them correctly in the first place, I wouldn’t have to spend so much time on them. And besides, it’s good practice for my exams.”

His father huffed. “You don’t need to worry about exams, Astarion. I told you before, I’ve got it all sorted.” He winked again. “Trust your father, he’ll take care of everything.”

“I’m going to pretend I can’t hear this,” his mother said, lifting her hands and getting up from the chair. “I am also going to see what the plan for dinner is. Astarion, love—” She stopped in the doorway and turned. “You can finish cleaning up your father’s messes later. I’d like us all to spend the evening together, alright?”

“Certainly, mother. I’ll only be a few more minutes.”

“See that you are, darling,” she said, and left.

Astarion’s father sighed. “She’ll be the death of me, I think.”

“If the tax collectors don’t come for you first,” Astarion said. He leaned back in his chair. “...Did you mean that? About the exam?”

“I did. You’ll still have to take it, of course, and it’ll be far easier if you do pass it, but if you happen to get a bit lower than needed, there’s nothing to worry about. Half the magistrates in this city paid someone to pass them on their exams, it’s practically a Baldurian tradition. It’ll be a good life for you,” he added. “Magistrates command respect, they have power, and you’re smarter than most of them put together.”

“If you’ve such faith in me, then why bribe someone at all?”

“It’s just to be safe, I assure you. I’ve the utmost faith you’ll do well.” He stood. “Now, I believe if we keep your mother waiting any longer, she’ll toss us out in the snow anyway.” He put his arm around Astarion’s shoulders as they left the room. “I see wonderful things in your future, Astarion. There’s no doubt about that.”

Astarion’s parents stood very still in the doorway, as Astarion remained frozen in the middle of the room, each watching the other. He felt trapped, unable to flee in any direction. Behind him, he heard Halsin stand. In front of him, neither of his parents seemed able to move.

If it were possible, his heart would have stopped again. Astarion stood, feet away from his mother and father, who looked exactly as they had his entire life, save a few wrinkles, and the bags under his father’s eyes. They stared at him, and he stared back, taking them in. His mother’s dark hair now sported silver streaks at the temples, and his father’s own was much shorter than Astarion remembered, but —

It was them. They were the same. The same as they had always been, looming brilliant and large in his aching, shattered memories.

Then his mother stepped towards him.

She walked at an agonizing pace until she stood in front of him, lifting her hand as if she thought to cup his cheek.

“...Is it you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he managed.

Her fingers twitched just above his jaw before drawing back. Astarion remained very still, watching her.

“...Your eyes,” she murmured.

“We…we had to make sure,” his father said, finally moving closer. “When the hill elder told us you were in the city, we were quite certain he’d finally gone mad.” He came and stood beside his wife, his cheeks shiny with tears. “But it is you, my boy…isn’t it?”

Astarion nodded. “I know it seems unbelievable, and it is a very long story. I promise you though, I’m no imposter.”

“You couldn’t be,” his mother said. “The city is guarded against shape changers. But you could understand our hesitation. We—” She made a noise, wet and choking. It made Astarion’s chest ache.

“We buried you,” his father said. “We buried you.” His voice trembled in such a way, Astarion flinched, prepared for the anger he’d told himself he should expect.

Instead, his father embraced him, and began to cry.

Astarion carefully held him close. “It’s me,” he said again. “I swear it.”

For a few moments, they stood together, Astarion holding him as his father sobbed openly and loudly into Astarion’s shirt. When he finally calmed down, he drew back and rubbed a hand over his red-splotched face.

“Corellon’s bloody boots,” he muttered. “I said I would be strong.”

“You are strong,” Astarion said. “I’m the one who’s come here and upended everything.”

His mother shook her head. “We will have time for explanations later, darling. For now, we—” She stopped, and Astarion realized she was seeing Halsin for the first time. “Well. We are not alone, it would seem.”

Astarion turned. Halsin was wiping the tears from his cheeks. “Forgive me, I should leave you all be.”

“Don’t,” Astarion said quickly, going to him and putting a hand on his chest. “Please,” he murmured, softer now. “Stay with me.”

Halsin nodded. “As you wish.”

“I do. Very much.” He took Halsin’s hand and turned to his parents. “Halsin is my partner. We’ve…” He glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve been through much together.”

His mother stepped closer. “This is your husband then?”

Astarion hesitated. Halsin nodded. “...Yes,” he said. “It’s not quite like that, but—”

Someone knocked on the open door, holding a small tray of food. “My lady—”

“Yes, Alana, thank you.” She quickly took the tray before ushering the girl out and closing the doors behind her. “Gods above,” she muttered, setting the tray on the table. “Well, I…I think I need to sit.”

“Laurea…” Astarion’s father gestured to the sofa and eased her onto it before sitting beside her, their hands clasped together.

Astarion looked at Halsin and they returned to their chairs.

Silence fell over the room, deafening and awkward. Food and drink sat untouched on the table between them. Finally, his mother leaned forward and poured herself a cup of tea.

“When did you marry?”

“A few months ago,” Astarion said. “It…wasn’t a traditional ceremony, by any means, but we were quite happy with it.”

“A chance for good friends to gather,” Halsin said.

“It sounds quite lovely. Are you from the High Forest, by chance?”

Halsin nodded. “I am.”

“There are some families here with wood elf ancestry.”

“No doubt bewitched by the beauty of this city,” Halsin said with a smile.

“Indeed. I missed it terribly, before we moved. It took some convincing, but I did manage to convince Evander it was the right choice.”

Evander sighed. “Yes, well. It’s no Baldur’s Gate, but I won’t complain.”

“Have you returned?” Astarion asked, immediately feeling foolish.

“...No,” his father said. “I have not.”

Silence again. Astarion felt it pressing on him like the weight of many stones. He made himself a cup of tea, just to have something to do with his hands.

“Are you—” His father started to speak, then stopped. “Well. I mean…have you been back? Back home, that is?”

Astarion felt the lies fill his mouth like blood and glass.

“...Recently, yes.”

“Astarion travels to the city to buy supplies for his shop,” Halsin said easily. Astarion glanced at him. “You were there just over a tenday ago, I think?”

“What sort of shop?”

“Tailor’s shop,” Astarion managed. “I…clothes. Repair work. Nothing fancy.” He felt like he was drowning.

“You live close to the city then?”

“Only in the last few years.” Astarion sipped his tea. It was bitter and wretched.

His mother sighed. “Well, I’m sure we’ll learn more while you’re here. But I…I must confess, my dear. These last—” She took a steadying breath. “Last two hundred years. Were you…were you close by? I don’t understand what could have happened. I mean, you must try to see things from our perspective. You…you were—”

“You were dead,” his father finished. “And now you are not.”

“I truly can explain everything,” Astarion said, “but it’s not easy to—”

There was the sound of something very porcelain — and probably very expensive — shattering outside the door. Someone shouted, and Astarion heard running before the doors flew open —

And a silver haired girl tripped and fell onto the floor.

Laurea jumped to her feet. “Astra!”

Astarion whipped his head towards his mother, but she was already moving to collect the girl and help her to her feet. His father shook his head and, for the first time since Astarion had arrived, actually smiled. “Wild girl.”

“Evander.”

“Something broke,” Astra said, “but it wasn’t my fault. I needed to keep him safe.” She held up her hand, which was grasped tight around a small, writhing lizard.

Laurea jumped back. “Nine hells, child!”

“He was in the sunroom! Isn’t he beautiful?”

“He belongs outside, darling.”

“Yes, but if I find a place for him—” Astra stopped. She glanced between Astarion and Halsin, then to her parents. “...Who are they?”

Evander cleared his throat and stood. “Ah. This is a cousin of ours. From back home. Baldur’s Gate, I mean.” He looked at Astarion and nodded.

Astarion glanced at the girl. “...Yes,” he said thinly. “A cousin.”

“But you—” She gasped as the lizard finally freed itself from her grasp and went scrabbling across the floor. Astra swore and tried to capture it again, chasing it towards the window and preparing to lunge.

“Wait,” Halsin said, and stood. He held out a hand and knelt by the lizard. It immediately stilled and climbed into his palm. “Easy,” he murmured. “No need to be frightened.” He glanced at Astra. “You are correct, he is beautiful.”

“He was just sitting in the sun.”

“That is a lizard’s favorite place to be, in my experience.”

Astra stared at Halsin with wide eyes. “...Are you a druid?”

“I am.”

“Is he talking to you?” Halsin nodded. “What’s he saying?”

Halsin nodded towards the window. “I believe he’d like to go back outside.”

Astra looked disappointed. “...Oh.”

“Wild lizards do not make good pets,” Halsin said, “though I’m sure you would have treated him very well.”

“I would,” she insisted, but went to open the window all the same. “Are you sure he wants to leave?”

“I am. But he seems to like the garden you have here, so I’m sure you’ll see him again.”

Astra sighed. “Fine.” She leaned against the window ledge as Halsin placed the creature outside and they both watched it scuttle along and down the wall.

“Miss Astra.” An older elven woman came into the room. “You’ve broken another vase, and run off from your lessons again. My Lord and Lady, I’m terribly sorry, but you must speak with her about maintaining focus on her studies.”

“I’m very sorry,” Laurea said. “We’ll have a discussion with her. Astra, darling, please go back to your lessons and behave.”

“Of course, mother.”

Astarion stared.

When Astra had finally gone and the doors were shut behind her, Laurea sat down again and rubbed between her brow.

“...You have a daughter.”

Evander nodded. “Yes.”

“How old is she?”

“Twelve,” his mother said. “She was…an unforeseen blessing.”

“I have a sister.”

“Yes, but I would prefer that you…not disclose that to her. At least not yet.”

Astarion nodded. He felt numb.

“I must confess,” his mother said, “I think that I…I need to rest. I’m sorry, I don’t meant to—”

“It’s fine,” Astarion said, quickly getting to his feet. “I completely understand.”

His mother smiled and stood, coming close. Astarion thought she might finally embrace him, but kept her distance.

“There is a story here,” she said. “Isn’t there?” Astarion nodded. “Then I would like to hear it.”

“We both would,” his father said. “Perhaps tonight, after dinner? Just the three of us.”

“Of course.” Astarion tried to smile. “Whatever you’d like.”

“I’ll have someone bring you to your room. And I assume you have things in town still, so I’ll have someone ride in to fetch them.” She gave a sigh and took her husband’s hand. “No matter what has happened, we are happy to have you back, my love.”

One of the servants led them to a room on the other side of the house and assured them someone would be able to bring their things from town soon.

“This is…also very nice,” Halsin said, running his fingers down one of the hand carved bed posts. “Perhaps I should return to the inn?”

“Are you mad?” Astarion fell backwards onto the bed. “You can’t leave me here. What if something happens?”

“I intruded somewhere I didn’t belong today. You should have been allowed your moment alone with your mother and father.”

Astarion sat up and pulled Halsin close. “Don’t you dare leave me,” he said, and sealed his words with a kiss.

Halsin finally relaxed. “If that is what you wish, my heart.”

“More than anything,” Astarion murmured. They crawled further onto the bed, lips parting for only a second. Halsin’s hands slid under Astarion’s shirt before he rolled them so Astarion could straddle his waist.

Astarion looked down. “You seem tired,” he said, kissing under Halsin’s jaw.

“Are you not?”

“I don’t know. I’m feeling…a lot of things. All at once.” Astarion sighed and climbed off of Halsin. “You should have a nap.”

“How indulgent,” Halsin teased, but he sat up and peeled off his shirt to change into something more comfortable. Astarion went into the adjoining washroom and picked through the bath oils and soaps before deciding to indulge a bit himself. Someone would come fetch them for dinner. When he went into the bedroom to tell Halsin, he was already in bear form, curled up in a sunbeam in front of the window. Astarion let him be.

When the tub was full, Astarion stripped and stepped into the hot water, sinking down and under it, letting himself stay submerged for longer than was strictly necessary.

He had parents again. They hadn’t turned him away or tried to have him killed. Not yet, anyway. Astarion supposed there was still time for them to change their minds.

And Astra…a sister. She was certainly an Ancunín — even without the silver hair, Astarion could see that right away. He recalled being a hellion himself as a boy, fleeing his lessons and terrorizing his teachers with a bow and arrows.

Astarion emerged from the water, steam rising off his skin. He was…home, in a way. And also nowhere close. He’d have to explain himself still, giving his parents the chance to reject him once more. He needed to be prepared. Perhaps they should pack everything and get ready to run as soon as they were able.

Or, Astarion thought reluctantly, he could trust in them to trust him. Gods, he’d really gone soft, hadn’t he? It was Halsin’s fault. And Gale’s. And Jaheira’s. And…everyone else, really.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, and sank under the water again.

The bath didn’t clear Astarion’s mind, but he did feel better. Someone had brought their things and left them outside the room. Astarion dragged them inside, then went to lay against Halsin for a nap of his own. He only woke because he heard something shuffling, just outside the door. Like the fabric of a dress. Astarion’s sudden movement jostled Halsin, who sleepily shifted out of his bear form and yawned.

“Is it dinner?”

“No, you silly man. But tell me about your nap.”

“It was…pleasant?” Halsin watched Astarion get to his feet. “I had a dream about the grove. Rather odd.”

“Mmhm. Have you heard from Francesca?” Astarion asked, moving silently towards the door.

“Not for a few months. I should reach out to her though, you’re right.” Halsin seemed to understand what Astarion was doing, but didn’t ask why. “Last we spoke, she said they’d had a few new people join the circle.”

“Seems like you made the right choice. Do you think Francesca has a problem with thieves?”

“It’s quite possible.”

“Bandits, maybe?”

“...Perhaps?”

Astarion went for the door handle and yanked it open, grabbing Astra by the back of her dress before she could run away. “And what about pesky little sneaks?”

The girl squirmed. “Let me go!”

“Why were you sneaking around out there, hm?”

“I wanted to know if you were really father’s cousin.”

“Well you’re bad at it,” he said, closing the door and releasing her. “Who do you think I am?”

Astra righted herself and smoothed out the skirts of her dress. “I think you’re my brother.”

Astarion’s mouth twitched. “...Did they tell you about me?”

“Some. There’s a painting of you, but mother keeps it hidden. I only saw it once, but she doesn’t know I did. It’s obviously you.”

“What did they say?”

“That you were their first child and you died a very long time ago. Clearly, you didn’t.”

Astarion sighed. “Yes, well. You figured it out. Just don’t tell your mother that you know.”

Astra raised a brow. “Our mother.”

“...Of course,” he said. “Now go on. And try not to make so much noise next time you want to eavesdrop.” Astarion opened the door, but Astra didn’t move. He sighed. “What?”

“Father said you died. He told me they buried you. In Baldur’s Gate. He told me someday we’d go and visit, so I could meet you properly.”

Astarion swallowed. “...I see.”

“How is it that you’re here then? Are you…did you come to…” She took a step back. “You’re not here to hurt us, are you?”

Astarion balked. “No!” he said quickly. “No, no, no. Absolutely not.” He quickly closed the door. “Astra, I am not here to do anything like that at all, I promise. Halsin and I—” Astarion glanced over his shoulder. Halsin looked…well. Rather proud, actually. Astarion gave him a weak smile. “Halsin and I came here because I…wanted to see my family again. I didn’t know you’d be part of that.”

“My last tutor called me a wretched little accident,” Astra said proudly.

Astarion pressed his lips together, and he heard Halsin’s muttered, “Oak Father give me strength.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s probably why they’re not your tutor anymore.”

“Among other reasons, yes.” Astra began walking around the room. “I’ve never seen this part of the house before. You can really see the gardens from here.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You promise you’re not an imposter who’s come to assassinate us all?”

“I think you read too many books,” Astarion said. “And no, I already told you, I’m not here to kill you.”

“Then what are you? It’s not possible to come back to life unless you become something else.”

“Trust me, child. There are many ways to bring back the dead,” Halsin said. He glanced at Astarion.

“He’s right, but you…aren’t wrong either, I suppose.”

“Exactly. You’re too normal looking to be a zombie. You’re certainly not a ghost, or a revenant. You smell too nice to be a ghoul or a ghast.” She ticked them off on her fingers as she went, then stopped. Astarion watched her flit about for a moment as she worked something out. She suddenly looked up. “...Oh.”

That was an “oh” Astarion didn’t like. “Perhaps you should get back to your lessons,” he said quickly, going to the door.

“Are you…are you a—”

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t say it,” he snapped. “If your—our mother finds out you’ve been here, she’s going to think I told you everything, and I am trying very hard not to be kicked out of this city for at least a few more days.”

Astra’s eyes were wide as she looked between Astarion and Halsin, then to the open balcony door. She stepped closer. “...But it’s daylight,” she said quietly.

Astarion looked at Halsin, who simply shrugged. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he said. “Go on.”

Astra leaned in and whispered, “Vampire?” Astarion nodded and showed off his fangs. She gave a little gasp. “Oh, wow.”

“There. Now you must swear you won’t say anything.”

“I won’t,” she said.

“Promise?”

Astra nodded. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I swear, I promise, cross my heart and everything.” She leaned close. “Do you promise you won’t hurt anyone?”

Astarion sighed. “I promise.”

Astra grinned and, before Astarion could react, she threw her arms around his neck and dragged him down for a hug. Astarion yelped and nearly fell over, but she held on something fierce.

“Thank you for coming back,” she whispered in his ear, before giving him a wet kiss on the cheek and letting him go. “I won’t say anything!” she said, running for the door. “Honest! I’m a great liar.”

“I hope you’re better at lying than you are at sneaking around,” Astarion warned.

Astra shrugged. “Guess we’ll see,” she said, and disappeared into the hall.

Astarion wiped his cheek where she’d kissed him. “Gods, how insufferable.” He went and closed the door after her, leaning heavy against it. When he looked at Halsin, his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. “Oh, you think it’s funny do you? We just got ganged up on by a pre-teen who talked me into telling her I’m a bloody fucking vampire. But I’m glad you’re so incredibly amused.” He rolled his eyes and strode across the room to step out on the balcony. “Hells,” he muttered.

Halsin came to stand beside him. “She won’t say anything. I can tell, she’ll be true to her word.”

“She’s a child. Children can’t be trusted with the truth. This was a mistake.”

“Children are far more clever than most adults give them credit for. She’ll keep her word. She likes you,” Halsin added. “She seems to spend a lot of her time alone, or with her tutors.”

Astarion glanced over. “How do you know that?”

Halsin shrugged. “Just her demeanor. Her excitement.” He smiled. “She reminds me a bit of…well. Me, I suppose, when I was that age. I spent most of my days playing alone, unless I was with Thaniel. And even then, no one else could see him. My parents were much older when they had me as well. It…changes things. You have to take care of yourself a bit more. Make your own fun.”

“Catch lizards?” Astarion teased.

“My poor mother,” Halsin murmured. “The number of frogs and squirrels I let loose in her kitchen. It’s a wonder she didn’t ship me off to another family entirely.” He pulled Astarion in and kissed his temple. “It’s as I said, isn’t it? All is well.”

“For now,” Astarion agreed.

“For now. And it will be. Your parents seem very happy to see you.”

“They were scared of me. I could see it in their eyes.”

Halsin nodded. “You are returned from the dead for them. I imagine they still remember the day they laid you to rest.”

Astarion shivered. “Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want to think about that.” He turned and went back inside. “You should wear what you’d like to dinner. There’s no sense in dressing up for them anymore.”

“You will look ravishing all the same, I’m sure,” Halsin said. He walked around Astarion, giving him space. “I think I’ll rest a bit longer, until someone comes to fetch us. He stretched out on the bed and yawned. “I will admit, this is quite comfortable.”

“It’s no patch of dirt, but it’ll do, hm?” Astarion asked absently, listening as Halsin immediately began to snore.

Someone came to fetch them for dinner, so Astarion woke Halsin and forced him to at least wear shoes — “I wasn’t going to walk around barefoot, I would merely like to remind you that our feet are meant to be free and uninhibited.” — before following the servant downstairs and into the dining room. His parents and Astra were already seated, but stood when he came in.

“You’re still here,” Laurea said.

“I…hadn’t planned on leaving.”

She nodded and took her seat again. “Of course, yes. I just…well, I wondered if I’d dreamed it. We’ve done our best to explain everything to Astra,” she added. “I do hope the two of you can spend some time together while you’re here. Is the room alright?”

Astarion leaned back as someone filled his wine glass. “It’s perfect. Halsin enjoyed the view of the gardens.”

“I wondered if I might speak with your gardener tomorrow,” Halsin said. “The grounds are quite beautiful.”

Evander nodded from the head of the table. “I’m sure we can arrange something. Are you a member of a circle, Halsin?”

“I was, some years ago. I was the archdruid of the Emerald Grove, but I stepped down to take care of some important matters. It is how I met Astarion, actually.”

Astarion paused before taking a sip of his wine. He’d rather hoped to avoid most of that sort of chatter. It was a great deal of explaining he wasn’t in the mood to do. Someone brought in some soup bowls and ladled them full. Astarion peered into it and made a face. He’d unfortunately have to eat a bit of something to maintain appearances, at least until after dinner.

“So you met in your old circle?” Laurea asked.

Halsin glanced at Astarion. Astarion sighed. “No,” he said. “We…well. It was part of it.” He set down the spoon he’d picked up. “Did word of the Cult of the Absolute ever reach you here?”

Evander glanced at his wife. “...Yes, actually. We never met anyone who was part of it, but we’d heard there was trouble along the main road to Baldur’s Gate and in the city. I was asked to donate last year to some sort of reconstruction effort. I did, of course, but I couldn’t get many people to tell me about it.”

Astarion nodded. “It’s…rather a long story, but I…I met Halsin because I was traveling with some people who’d all been affected by the cult. Halsin was studying it. Ultimately, it all came to a head in the city.”

“...Is it true there were mind flayers loose in Baldur’s Gate then?” Evander asked.

“Yes.”

“By the will of the Seldarine,” Evander murmured. “Mind flayers. In my city. I wish I’d been there. I’d have—”

“What, tried to negotiate them to death?” Laurea laughed. “Please, darling.”

Astra slurped up some of her soup. “Did you help save the Realms then?”

Astarion blinked at her, trying to communicate silently that he was going to flay her alive later. She blinked back.

“Yes,” Halsin said. “Astarion did indeed help save the Realms.”

Evander lifted his glass. “That sounds like a hell of a story, my boy. I’d like to hear it all someday.”

Astarion’s mother looked at his soup bowl. “Darling, are you not hungry?”

Astarion cleared his throat and picked up his spoon. “I was…ill, last week. My appetite is still not what it was, but I’m sure this will be just fine.” He swallowed a spoonful and tried not to gag.

Conversation shifted. Astarion picked up that his father was still running a successful trade company, and his mother was still making art. Astra was scolded three times for having her elbows on the table, but she and their parents spoke plainly and easily with one another, much the way they had when Astarion was a boy.

“I did have a question,” his mother said, breaking his contemplation. “About your marriage.”

Not a marriage, he almost said. “What about it?”

“Well, you know your father and I were never particularly religious people, but…there are some things which are simply tradition. Marriage between high elves, and even with their non-elven partners, typically takes place with a blessing of the Seldarine, or an appropriate priest.”

“Our ceremony was very simple,” Astarion said. “Halsin is a devotee of Silvanus, and a priestess of Selûne performed the rites. You’re welcome to use certain words if they make you comfortable, but…Halsin is my partner in life, not my husband. We were not truly married, but our commitment to one another is quite strong, I can assure you.” He took Halsin’s hand under the table. “I hope you can understand that.”

Laurea nodded. “Of course, darling. Perhaps we can see about having someone just say a few words while you’re here though, if you won’t mind.”

Astarion looked down at his soup and swallowed. “...I don’t see why not,” he said, even as he hated the idea entirely.

After dinner, Astra was forced to go to bed, while Halsin excused himself and returned to their room, finally leaving Astarion alone with his parents. They quickly stood from the table and led him into his father’s study, closing the door and pouring more wine.

His mother sat in a chair in front of the fireplace. “I think it’s time you explain some things to us, Astarion. Your father and I talked about this a great deal earlier today, and there is…nothing we can imagine that would lead to…” She gestured towards him. “To this! To you being here, in front of us. I can perfectly recall the day you…the day that we—” She covered her mouth. Evander quickly went to her and stood behind her chair, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Your mother is quite distraught, Astarion. I have no desire to force you to explain every part of your life these last however many years you’ve been gone, but…please. You must give her—us, some measure of understanding.”

Astarion nodded. “I…I agree,” he said, and set his wine glass aside. “I need you to know, first and foremost, that I never meant for any of this to happen. It was…the circumstances were, for a very long time, quite beyond my control. It was only recently that I could effect any change in my own life at all.” He looked down at the ring on his finger, twisting it around and around. “Did they tell you the circumstances of my death? Because that is the truth, if you’ve been wondering. I didn’t fake anything, it is something that happened.”

Evander nodded. “I did…wonder. It wasn’t something I thought you’d do, but I’ve had to reconsider so many things, just today.”

“They told us you were attacked,” Laurea said. “Overwhelmed by some group of people.”

“Gur,” Astarion said. “Are you familiar with them?”

“Somewhat,” his father said.

Astarion nodded. “I passed down a ruling earlier that tenday which they didn’t especially like. They made that clear by attacking me one evening as I was returning home.”

His mother took a steadying breath. “...I waited for you. I waited all night. They came and told us the next morning.”

“We buried you two days later,” his father said. “I recall that very clearly. We buried your body, and now you’re standing here in front of us, and we—”

Laurea reached up and covered his hand with hers. “Let him speak, love.”

Astarion leaned against his father’s desk. The room was quiet, save for the crackling of the fireplace.

“What do you know of a man called Cazador Szarr?” he asked.

His father shook his head, but Laurea paused. “...I did hear of him,” she said. “He was a patron of a few artists I knew. I think I met him once, at a gallery event. It was ages ago, when you were just a boy. Rather eccentric man. Rarely seen outside of his manor.”

Astarion took a deep breath. “Cazador never went out in the daylight. He sold himself as a peculiar patriar with odd habits and no one questioned him. He was allowed to do as he liked because he was, strangely enough, incredibly charismatic. He could…convince you that he was something else. Something other than what he truly was.”

His mother frowned. “Why do you speak of him like you know him, Astarion? He was never in our home. We didn’t associate with him.”

“Of course you didn’t. There was no reason for him to entertain you or invite himself into your lives, because he’d already taken what he wanted from you.” Astarion straightened and paced a line in front of the desk. “The night I was attacked by the Gur, I was bleeding in an alleyway, and no one was coming for me. I kept shouting, as loud as I could manage, but it wasn’t loud enough. I was weak. I was dying.”

To their credit, they didn’t interrupt this part. His parents stared at him, watching.

“Cazador found me. I was minutes from death. He told me he could undo it all. He promised he could save me. Make it all better.” Astarion felt his jaw clench and quiver. “Cazador was a vampire,” he spat. “He drank my blood and changed me. I died, but I was reborn. He waited for me to crawl out of the ground, and then he took me to his home. After that, I was his.”

Astarion finished, and the three stared at one another. He waited for them to speak, but his story seemed to have rendered them speechless.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” his mother finally said.

“I don’t.”

“You stood in the sun, and you did not burn. I know what a vampire is,” she said. “And I do not appreciate these lies.”

“I’m not lying. Look—” Astarion went and dropped to his knees in front of her and bared his fangs. She flinched, and Astarion prepared for her to strike him —

But she didn’t. Instead, she gently turned his head to the side and pulled down the collar of his shirt, finally revealing the deep fang scars in his neck.

“Hells,” his father said, stepping back.

His mother’s voice trembled. “Astarion.”

“I can stand in the sun because of this.” He took off his ring and showed it to them. “My friends, the ones who saved Baldur’s Gate, they found this for me. They gave me this gift. And when they did, I…I knew it was a sign I should finally look for you. I could walk in the sun again. I had no more excuses.” He reached out and took his mother’s hands, looking up at his father. “I came because I needed to see you. Speak to you. Even if you didn’t want to see me, I knew I needed to try.”

His mother took a deep breath and nodded. She eased her hands from his grip and pushed herself to her feet. Astarion stood with her, sliding the ring back on his finger.

“Thank you for telling us. I think—” She looked at Evander, who nodded. “I think your father and I need to think about all of this. But you have nothing to fear. We won’t turn you out, and no harm will come to you. This is a great deal of information, and we need to understand it. But, please,” she added. “Let us be the ones to tell Astra.”

“Of course,” Astarion said. “She seems quite…willful.”

“That is certainly a word for it.” His mother leaned in for a moment, hesitated, and then drew back. “Get some rest, my dear. We will speak with you in the morning.”

Evander nodded, stopping to embrace Astarion before he followed his wife out of the study.

Astarion stood in front of the fireplace and waited until the door closed before he sank to the floor and took several deep, calming breaths.

Halsin grunted when Astarion climbed into bed next to him and rolled over, swinging a heavy arm across his hip. “Are you alright, my heart?”

“Of course. Never better.”

Halsin opened one eye. “...Did you tell them?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And they…took it rather well. They need time to think about it, but I don’t think we’re going to have to fight our way out, or find different lodgings. Not today.” Astarion shuffled closer, pressing his nose into Halsin’s chest. “At least I won’t have to eat any more soup while I’m here.”

Halsin chuckled. “You were very brave. Three whole bites.”

“I know, I feel miserable.”

Halsin kissed the top of his head. “Your poor thing,” he murmured.

Astarion laughed and pulled himself closer. When Halsin began to snore, Astarion wriggled out from under his arm to undress before crawling back into bed.

Chapter Text

two hundred years ago

Astarion had been a terrible magistrate.

This was not especially debatable. He’d been accused, correctly, of taking bribes and very nice gifts in exchange for certain rulings. The majority of his peers who did like him were as bad, if not worse — corruption was practically tradition in Baldur’s Gate. Wealthy patriars got what they wanted by putting money in the right place. Astarion didn’t see the point in denying himself when most of the decisions he made were inconsequential otherwise — or so it seemed.

If it bothered his parents, neither mentioned it. His father was pleased that Astarion’s position got him better trade deals and faster turnaround time on his contract approvals. His mother liked to be left to her art in peace, but she wasn’t one to turn down an expensive gift.

Hanging from his place in Cazador’s dungeon, marveling at the amount of blood that still seemed to be in his body, Astarion did not think this was fair penance.

The door opened. Cazador had visited a handful of hours before, perhaps more. Time was…loose. It fumbled in Astarion’s mind. Days could have passed, for all he knew.

“I apologize,” his master said, taking off a pair of black leather gloves. “I was held up at a nearby Wintersend party. I didn’t mean for us to get interrupted.” He came over and touched Astarion’s cheek. Astarion flinched. “Still able to move? Not to worry. I’ll fix that.”

Cazador backhanded him. Astarion heard the sound of his jaw cracking before he felt the pain. He howled, and it only made it worse.

“Your delightful mother and father were not in attendance. I did ask after them, you know. I thought you’d like to know, since you were so terribly curious that you would blatantly defy my rules. The lord I visited said they were in a prolonged period of mourning. Something about the death of their only son.” He grabbed Astarion’s face by his broken jaw. Astarion choked on his own blood. The pain was agony.

Cazador smiled. “Tell me you’re sorry, boy. Tell me you’re very sorry for what you did, and promise me you’ll never do it again.”

Astarion couldn’t speak. His tongue felt swollen and tacky in his own mouth.

And he was so hungry.

Cazador tipped his head to the side and smiled. “You’ll learn,” he said. He carded the fingers of his other hand lovingly through Astarion’s hair. “I will make you worth the aggravation.”

Astarion woke with a gasp.

Immediately his stomach lurched. Phantom pain made his mouth throb as he wrenched himself free of the blankets and stumbled out of bed. He blinked.

Not home, he thought, reconciling his surroundings with where his mind believed he should be.

In bed, Halsin shifted and called to him. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing, darling. Just a dream. Go back to sleep.” Astarion went to the wash basin and splashed cold water onto his face. When he turned, Halsin was sitting up, watching him. “What?”

“It’s been some time since you woke from a nightmare like that.”

“Oh do relax. I’m perfectly fine.” Astarion walked towards him, easily climbing up and into Halsin’s lap. He carded his fingers through the mess of his hair. “I like you this way,” he murmured, kissing his brow.

Halsin made a soft noise, his hands sliding up Astarion’s back, warm and careful on his scars.

Astarion took a steadying breath. “After Cazador…after I was turned, I went looking for them. I thought they could save me. If I…explained it all. It wasn’t the first time he beat me, but it was one of the worst, I think.”

“My heart…”

“Don’t. Don’t pity me.”

“I don’t. I never do. I only feel for you, and for your pain.” Halsin drew back and cupped Astarion’s cheek in his hand. “You’re shivering,” he said, and rolled them over, so he could tuck Astarion against his chest.

“Of course I am, I’m undead. I don’t need you to manhandle me.”

“Would you like me to stop?”

Astarion huffed. “...No.” He tucked his nose against Halsin’s arm and breathed in the warm, sleepy scent of him, letting it coax him back into his trance.

Astarion’s place at the dining table was empty. Neither of his parents commented on it as he and Halsin took their seats. Astra grinned at Astarion over her bowl of oats.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.

Astarion raised a brow. “Good morning.”

“Astra was just asking if you’d be willing to supplement some of her lessons, Halsin.” Laurea looked down the table at him. “She’s a quick study.”

“I’m sure she is.” Halsin poured himself a cup of tea. “I’d be happy to, Miss Astra.”

“Just Astra, please,” she said. “May I be excused?”

“Are you going straight to your lessons?” her mother asked.

“Of course.”

“If I find out you were late, you can forget about the party, young lady.”

Astra rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’ll be right on time.” She stood. “I’ll be in the garden later,” she said to Halsin before leaving the room.

Astarion’s mother sighed. “That child. You were the same,” she said, nodding towards Astarion. “I don’t know how it happened twice.”

“Runs in the family,” Evander said, winking. His wife fixed him with a look and he cleared his throat. “Eh, Right. Your mother and I, we…” He paused, glancing at Halsin. “About…what we discussed last night.”

“Halsin is quite aware.”

His father nodded. “Of course, yes. Well, your mother and I…while we certainly find it all still very confusing, we…well we—”

“What you are is not a problem,” Laurea said. “So long as you do not mention it to Astra.”

Astarion nodded. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Halsin passed him a cup of tea. “Thank you, love.”

“I’m sure you heard what I said. We’re having a party, at the end of the tenday. It’s been planned for months, but if we need to cancel—”

“No,” Astarion said quickly. “Don’t do that, not on my account. What’s the occasion?”

“A hill elder’s birthday,” Evander muttered. “It’s all just stupid city politics.”

“As if we weren’t drowning it it, back in Baldur’s Gate,” Laurea said. She turned to Astarion. “I would of course understand if you didn’t want to be there, but we’d be very happy if you were. Both of you.”

Astarion glanced at Halsin, who had busied himself very intentionally buttering a piece of bread. He turned back to his mother. “We’d love to,” he said.

“Excellent! All settled, then.” His father stood from the table. “Darling, we should really be going.”

“Oh, gods. I nearly forgot. Perhaps you could go on without me?”

“I cannot. We need your signatures.”

“Hells, alright.” Laurea sighed and stood. “I’m terribly sorry, both of you. We have appointments in the city today, but we should be back just before dinner. Is that…well, I mean, perhaps I can—”

“Mother, please.” Astarion gestured. “I will be here when you return. I’ve no intention of going anywhere.”

“Perhaps we can talk more, after dinner? Your father and I had some things we wished to discuss.”

“Whatever you’d like.”

She nodded. “Very well.”

For a moment, it seemed like she was going to kiss his forehead. The gesture was familiar, leaning in as if to touch him, before she seemed to think better of it.

“Enjoy yourselves, today,” she said, and quickly left the room. Evander came around the table and put a quick hand on Astarion’s shoulder, then followed after her.

Astarion sighed. “Well, I suppose whatever that was is better than open hostility.”

“They will adjust,” Halsin said. “You need to give them time.”

“Gods, I hate when you’re sensible.” Astarion leaned forward on one elbow, chin in hand. “You don’t have to teach her, you know. My sister.”

“She’s a delightful child. I have no issues with it.” Halsin paused. “Her name is very interesting.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Astarion quickly stood. “Are you finished then?”

“I am.” Halsin glanced at the doorway. “You know, if you left now, you could probably catch up to them.” He stood after Astarion and followed him from the room.

Astarion glanced over his shoulder. “Something tells me I wasn’t exactly invited. Besides, I want to poke around here a bit.”

“If you steal from your parents—”

“It’s only stealing if you get caught. And I’m sure half of this was in our old house anyway. If I could bloody well remember it,” he muttered. Halsin sighed and followed him.

They spent the rest of the morning opening random doors and looking inside. The house was large, but most of the rooms appeared unused. It struck Astarion at one point that this must have been the home his mother had grown up in. There were portraits of elves on the wall with her same dark hair and gray eyes. Elves that were his family, once. There was a portrait in the largest library of a young elf he thought might be his mother, standing with several other family members.

Halsin looked up from his book. “You look like them,” he said.

“I wouldn’t know. I suppose I’ll just have to trust you, hm?” Astarion reached out and touched the edge of the frame. “Mother painted portraits sometimes. I remember that now. People would come to the house and sit for her.”

Halsin set his book down. “You seem to remember more here. I’ve never heard you speak like this about your childhood.”

Astarion shook his head. “I don’t think it’s much more than a sort of…trigger. Seeing their faces, these things I think I remember. Half of it could be fabricated, I don’t know.” Astarion dropped down into a chair.

“Your mind is trying to make connections, it seems.”

“Maybe.” Astarion looked around. “I think we’ve been inside long enough. Shall we?”

They left the library for the gardens, passing the kitchen on the way. Halsin chewed happily on an apple as they walked between groups of flowers and under a towering willow.

“This is a thing of beauty,” Halsin said. “It seems so out of place.”

“Perhaps gardening runs in the family.”

“Or your parents spend their money wisely.” Halsin tossed the apple core towards a small flock of birds. “I wonder where—” He stopped and smiled. “Nevermind.”

Astarion followed his gaze and spotted Astra coming through the garden. She waved and ran towards them, grinning.

“Hello! I was hoping you’d be out here when I was done.”

“You’re not finished with your lessons are you?” Astarion asked.

“What’s it to you?” Astarion raised a brow. Astra sighed. “I’m not, unfortunately. Miss Reina is grading one of my exams. She hates when I hover.” Astra pulled on one of the willow branches. “It’s nice out here, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Halsin looked around. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize one of these flowers. Perhaps our lessons could start there.”

Astra beamed. “Yes! Which one? I know all of them. Most of them. I’ve got a book.”

Halsin pointed to a white flower as they walked away from the tree. “This one. Do you know it?”

“Of course. It’s an elder lily, it only grows in Evereska. The most beautiful butterflies land on them in the summer. I caught one in a jar last year, but it made mother cry, so I let it go. Well, I tried, anyway.”

Astarion frowned. “...She has a necklace. Doesn’t she?”

“A butterfly pendant,” Astra said. “It’s very beautiful.” She glanced at him. “Mother hasn’t mentioned your…nature.”

“Yes, and it’s for the best if you don’t either.”

Astra nodded. She turned to Halsin. “Can you wildshape into anything?” she asked.

“Many things,” Halsin said. “Though I have preferences.” Astra looked up at him expectantly, and Halsin laughed. “I prefer the bear, most days.”

Her eyes went wide. “Show me,” she demanded. Then — “Please?”

“Hm. You remind me of someone, I think.” But he smiled and took a few steps back. That familiar shimmer of gold engulfed him, and a moment later there was a bear in the garden. Astarion laughed — he couldn’t help himself. It seemed to please Astra, too, who gasped with delight.

“Amazing! I’ve never seen anyone do it. Mother says all the hill elders can, but they’re terribly boring about it. Can I…” She looked at Astarion, then the bear, hands reaching for his muzzle.

“It’s alright,” Astarion said, scratching behind Halsin’s ears. He sat down in the grass to watch as Astra circled the bear, asking questions so fast Astarion couldn’t answer them. Eventually, he gave up and stretched out in the sun. Astra came and sat next to him. Halsin stayed as he was — he was never in any hurry to change back.

“Incredible,” she said, flopping down beside Astarion. “Can you turn into a bat?”

Astarion laughed again. “No! Absolutely not.”

“Would you want to?”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think so. I’m quite happy with the shape I’m currently in, thank you very much.”

Astra plucked a blade and grass, twisting it between her fingers. “I’d want to be a bird, I think. Or a house cat. One of mother’s friends has a dozen of them, and they wander around her garden and they’re all terribly spoiled and get to eat fresh fish whenever they want.”

Astarion considered this. “...I suppose I’d enjoy being a cat.”

“You look like a cat,” his sister said. “You always have this grouchy expression on your face.”

“I do not.”

“You do! Halsin—well, he’s asleep. But when he’s awake, he’ll agree with me.”

“You’re a terror,” Astarion said, sitting up.

Astra preened. “You sound just like my last tutor,” she said proudly. “I ran him off, too.”

Astarion laughed and began to ask why she was so intent on doing so, but he was interrupted by a woman screaming.

“Miss Astra!” The tutor they’d met the day before ran across the garden. “Come here, just stay with me, we must not upset it.”

Astarion quickly stood. Behind him, Halsin was getting to his feet and quickly dropping his wildshape, which only seemed to terrify Astra’s tutor more.

“Please,” Halsin said. “I’m very sorry.”

“It’s my fault.” Astra stood between them. “I made him do it, you can tell mother it was me.”

“Gods above,” the tutor said, hand over her heart. “I…I think I need to go home and lie down.” She shot Astarion and Halsin a dreadful look. “The Lord and Lady will certainly be hearing about this,” she said. “Do you feel safe, Miss Astra? I can remain here—”

“It’s fine. I told you, it was my fault!”

Her tutor shook her head. “Absolutely unbelievable.” She pointed at Astarion. “You had best get your…beast under control, sir. How utterly ridiculous.” She turned and strode back across the garden, into the house.

Astarion turned to Halsin. “Ignore her.”

“I intend to. Though I feel terrible for frightening her.”

Astra rolled her eyes. “Everything frightens Miss Reina. She’s scared of her own shadow.” She sighed. “I’m going to be in such trouble.”

“I’ll handle it,” Astarion said. “Don’t worry yourself.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Can you make sure I’m still allowed to go to the party? I’ve got a new dress and everything.”

Astarion put his fingers under her chin. “I will make sure of it.”

Astarion’s parents returned just before dinner, bickering as they settled at the table.

“It’s a ridiculous last minute request,” Evander said. “We’ll have more than enough food.”

“It’s for the hill elder,” Laurea said. “And it’s hardly an inconvenience.” She looked down the table. “I’m sorry we were gone for so long.” She took a glass of wine from one of the servants. “But it seems the three of you kept yourselves quite busy. There was apparently some sort of wild animal in my garden today.”

Halsin opened his mouth to explain, but Astarion interrupted him. “I’m afraid that was my fault. I asked Halsin to give Astra a demonstration of his wildshape. I probably should have insisted upon the housecat, but his bear form is rather impressive.”

“We’ll be lucky if Miss Reina returns,” his mother said, “though her employment has been in question for some time.” She turned to Astra. “If your intention is to terrify every tutor in Evereska before the end of the year, I think you just might succeed.”

“It’s not my fault they’re all so weak willed,” Astra said.

Her father sighed. “You need to get a good education. I’ve said it before, there are schools on the Swordcoast where she would do very well—”

“Not now,” Laurea said. Evander’s mouth snapped shut.

The rest of dinner passed quietly. Astra excused herself and Halsin did the same. When the table was cleared, Astarion followed his parents back to his father’s study. He took a glass of wine from his mother and sat in a chair near the fire.

“Astra’s tutor told me a different story about what happened today.”

“Then she’s a liar.”

“Astarion—”

“Astra is a child and she was curious. It is unfortunate Halsin upset the woman. I will speak with him and make sure it doesn’t happen again. But he would never hurt her, or anyone, without cause. They were both perfectly safe.”

His mother nodded. “I’m sure that’s the case. That aside, perhaps it would be best if he remained…as he was meant to be.”

Astrarion’s lip twitched. He sipped his wine again.

“Speaking of Halsin.” His father sat behind his desk and took some documents from a leather case. “Your mother and I spoke with a few people in the city today, regarding your marriage.”

She nodded. “The hill elder we’re celebrating this week has agreed to oversee proper Seldarine marriage rites between the two of you. I know a priestess who would be willing to perform the ceremony.”

Astarion frowned. “That’s hardly necessary. Mine and Halsin’s union is more than legitimate, I assure you.”

“Perhaps it is in your village, and the rest of the realms, but in the city, it’s a bit different.”

“We aren’t remaining in the city, so it really shouldn’t be a problem.”

His father sighed. “It’s not about that, Astarion. There are other things in play here.”

“How could there possibly be? We’ve only been here for two days.”

“The estate,” his mother said. “When we pass, it will go to Astra. But to inherit, you will need to be either a citizen, or have a legitimized union. Citizenship for outsiders can take decades to acquire, but if you and Halsin were to marry while you were here—”

“No,” Astarion said.

“Astarion—”

“There is no need to question my union. Halsin is my partner. We declared our commitment to one another as we wanted to. I won’t be doing it again for the benefit of some council.”

His father laughed. “If you don’t, you stand to inherit nothing, my boy. It would be a waste.”

Astarion went very still as the realization slowly dawned on him. He looked between his parents. “...That’s why you think I’m here, isn’t it?”

“It is perhaps one reason,” his mother quickly corrected. “Obviously we know you wanted to see us, and we’ve been more than happy to have you back, but you know as well as we do that inheritance can be terribly tricky—”

“Are you serious?” Astarion’s voice trembled. “I didn’t come here for your money,” he snapped. “Or your bloody land. Did you really go into the city and plan all this without me?”

“We were trying to make sure it could be taken care of quickly and quietly,” his father said. “No need for things to get messy. Astarion, it was just something we considered, it’s not—”

“I came here to find my family,” he said, standing. The chair nearly fell over. He set his glass on an end table and steadied himself. “After everything I endured, after years of torture, I thought…well, I thought you were going to reject me outright. I didn’t imagine you’d let me stay here.”

His mother reached for him. “You’re our son—”

“And you can’t even touch me,” he said. “You’re afraid of me.”

Laurea stood. “Well then try to see it all from my perspective. I put your body in the ground, Astarion. I wept over you, prayed to the gods that you would come home. You were the love of our lives. My…my star. And now you’re—” She choked on a sound.

Astarion clenched his fists. “I’m what?” he asked.

His mother shook her head. “I don’t even know. I don’t know what you are. I don’t understand how the boy I raised could be so changed completely. Where has he gone? You return to us, married to a…a wild elf, practically a hired sword, a monst—”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. The room went deathly quiet.

Astarion stepped back. “...I see.”

“I didn’t…that isn’t what I think.”

“It is, though. And you would be right.” He looked into the fire. “I am changed, and only recently for the better. There is nothing I can tell you of my life these last two centuries that is worth knowing. You want to understand, but the truth is you can’t. And it isn’t due to any sort of secrecy or pride on my part. I simply can’t speak it. Not to you. But it wouldn’t matter. Everything you’ve believed of me since I’ve been gone is true. The son you knew is dead and buried.

“I am what these past two hundred years have made me. You can either accept this, or turn me away. The choice is yours.”

“...We will not turn you out,” his father said quietly. “So long as you are here, this is your home.”

“Then we won’t stay.” Astarion strode quickly towards the door. He thought his mother might stop him, but she remained frozen, staring. Astarion spared her one last look before he opened the door and left.

When Astarion returned to their room, Halsin was sitting on the balcony, incense burning as he meditated. Astarion stopped to admire the view, unwilling to break Halsin’s concentration. He moved carefully through the room to go draw himself a bath, closing the door behind him.

As angry as he was, he supposed he couldn’t blame his parents for thinking as they did. It would be odd to suddenly have your eldest son return to your life, with no obvious ulterior motives. His father had grown up in Baldur’s Gate. He understood how money and inheritance could shape the future of an entire family.

Astarion had never worried about that. Before Cazador, he’d expected to live with his parents for some time, then make a home for himself. Marriage and children didn’t appeal to him, but he’d imagined settling down into a beneficial union with a nice elf from a good family. These sort of dreams were distant, now, and strange. When he closed his eyes, he could only think of the cottage, nestled along the trees in Reithwin, the garden bursting with life. He missed it, desperately. He’d been foolish to come here, stupid to think he could get the things he craved. All of it had been a dreadful waste, he thought, and sank under the water.

Well. Almost all of it. Astra was…unexpected. That his parents would have had another child at all seemed impossible. Elven couples rarely got so lucky, if more children could be considered lucky at all. But Astra…cocky and clever and infinitely curious. His memories were spotty at best, but he knew how parallel they seemed to run against one another.

He’d have to explain all this to her, if they left tomorrow. He felt awful about it.

Astarion didn’t know how long he was underwater, but he startled when something touched him, bursting from the bath with a gasp.

“Hells!”

Halsin laughed. “Hells yourself, my heart. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to drown in here.”

“Ugh, don’t be so dramatic.” Astarion slung his elbows over the side of the tub. “You looked cozy out there.”

“I was trying to commune with the spirits around this place, but it is well protected.”

“No takers for a moonlight stroll between the planes?”

“Apparently not.” Halsin sat on the washroom floor, leaning his back against the tub. “How was your talk?” Astarion groaned and sank down into the bath again. When he came back up, Halsin chuckled. “That bad, hm?”

“She called me a monster,” he muttered. “Well. Almost. She was halfway there.”

Halsin stiffened. “She what?”

“Don’t. Don’t be angry with her. We had a stupid fight, and she…she went low.”

“It is not an excuse, Astarion. A parent should mean what they say, and not say what they mean if it is cruel.” He stood. “If you ask me to let it be, I will let it be. But I will not still my tongue if she speaks to you that way again.”

Astarion looked up at him. His wild elf. “Would you really?”

“You know I would.”

“She’s my mother.”

“That does not give her free reign.” Halsin gently took Astarion’s chin in hand. “I suspect you’ve come here wanting to deserve them again. But that works both ways, my heart. You are a gift, and I thank the fates every day for bringing you to me. It’s true that their hearts are broken, but your mother and father must earn your presence. They’ve no rights to it.”

Astarion felt his jaw tremble in Halsin’s hand. “You think that’s what I want?”

“As I said, it’s what I suspect. Whether it’s true—”

Astarion stood and pulled Halsin in to kiss him. Water spilled over the edge of the tub and onto the floor as Halsin drew him closer.

“You’re right about one thing,” Astarion said, pulling back.

“Tell me.”

“I am a gift.”

Halsin went very quiet — then his shoulders and chest began to shake with laughter. He buried his face against Astarion’s neck, smiling into his warm, wet skin, before he lifted him from the tub and spun him around. Astarion yelped, winding his legs around Halsin’s waist as he was carried out of the washroom and to the bed.

Halsin began to leave a trail of slow, wet kisses down the length of Astarion’s body, starting just under his jaw.

“You’re right,” he murmured, lips pressed to Astarion’s sternum. “You are a gift. I am beyond lucky to be in your presence.”

Astarion sighed, stretching contentedly under the attention. “I do love when you’re reasonable.”

“Only when I am reasonable about you.”

“True enough.” Astarion carded his fingers through Halsin’s hair. He let his legs fall open, moaning quietly as Halsin kissed his stomach, then dipped down to press his lips to either side of Astarion’s inner thighs. His cock was growing hard between them. Astarion reached down to touch himself, just as Halsin took Astarion’s hips in both hands and flipped him.

“Halsin!” Astarion gasped, pushing himself up onto his elbows and looking behind him. “A little warning next time might be appre—oh.” He moaned as Halsin ducked down and pressed his tongue to Astarion’s hole. “Oh, fuck, fuck me, I—” He buried his face into the pillow beneath him, feeling Halsin’s hands spreading him wide as he took what he wanted. Astarion’s toes curled.

Halsin could claim he was a man of simple pleasures all he liked, but there was a sinful decadence to the way he could feast on Astarion. Any part of him, really. He moaned like a man starved, tongue lapping at Astarion’s entrance as he pressed it deeper inside him. There was something so indulgent about being spread like this, even after years of knowing each way Halsin could take him apart and put him together again. Astarion ground his hips against the bed in time with the motion of Halsin’s tongue. He was getting closer, and Halsin could tell —

And then he stopped.

Astarion beat his fist against the mattress. “If you don’t keep going, I’ll riot. I mean it, I—ah!” He yelped and looked over his shoulder. “...Did you just bite me?”

“I recall you enjoy it.”

“Yes, well, I was trying to say that I—Halsin!”

“I know very well what you’re trying to say, my heart.” Halsin kissed one bite mark, then the other, before trailing his lips up Astarion’s back. “Roll over,” he said. “And help me undress.”

Astarion didn’t need to be told twice. He moved and sat up, yanking Halsin’s shirt up and over his head. He gleefully pressed his face against Halsin’s chest, laving his tongue just over his heart before surging up to kiss him properly. In between the slide of tongues, Astarion unlaced Halsin’s pants and worked them down, until his druid was nothing but bare skin, warm and lush beneath him. Halsin went to his back easily, drawing Astarion up and over to straddle him.

“This is what you want, hm?”

“The night is beautiful,” Halsin said, looking back towards the open balcony door. “I would see you bathed in as much moonlight as I can.” He reached for something on the bedside table. Astarion felt the cool glass of an oil vial in his palm as Halsin stroked his thighs.

“Were you planning on ravishing me after all?” Astarion asked. He drizzled the oil over his palm, reaching down to stroke Halsin’s cock.

“I will admit, I had some ideas.”

“I like when you do,” Astarion said. He pressed two of his oil-slick fingers into himself before he took Halsin’s cock in hand, moaning as he felt the tip of it catch on his rim before he sank down. The argument felt ages away now as he was stretched and filled and filled. Halsin’s hands gripped him tight, fingertips pressed against his skin. Astarion took him slowly, until Halsin was completely inside, and all he could feel was this. He tipped forward, fingers spread on Halsin’s chest as he gasped and moaned.

It was…salacious, in a way. Making love in this house, the balcony doors open to the world as Astarion pitched his head back and moaned. He began to set a rhythm, fucking himself on Halsin’s cock. At one point he pushed himself up too fast and felt it slip out, grasping the base and guiding it easily back inside. Halsin began to meet him thrust for thrust, slamming his hips against Astarion’s, grunting with the effort. Astarion sat up straight, arms hanging at his side as he stared up at the ornate ceiling of this room. Each thrust — yes, Halsin, yes, yes — pushed him further away. He felt his mind slipping, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

Sometimes, the enormity of the love he’d earned was too great a thing to hold. Tonight, it felt just right.

“My heart—” Halsin’s voice brought him back. “Are you here with me?”

“Always,” Astarion said, looking back at him. “I’m always with you.” He slowed down, urging Halsin to do the same as he leaned in and kissed him. “We deserve this,” he said. “Don’t we?”

Halsin had known Astarion for long enough to understand what he was saying. He nodded. “We do.”

“I love you,” Astarion said. “I love you, I—” He closed his eyes and sat back up. His cock was hard and flagging against his stomach. Astarion reached for it and began to pick up the pace again, stroking himself in time with Halsin’s thrusts. “Gods, yes, just like that.”

“Let me see you,” Halsin said. “Show me.”

Astarion nodded, fucking his own fist, feeling himself getting closer. He dropped down onto Halsin’s cock, hard, and came with a shout, spilling over his hand and spattering his stomach. He tasted blood, suddenly, on his tongue.

Halsin pulled Astarion down, flush with his chest, thrusting up into him. Blood smeared between them as they kissed, but Halsin had never minded. He licked Astarion’s lips clean, pressing deeper, thrusting harder. Astarion felt loose and limbless, held up only by Halsin’s arms as he drove himself closer to his own finish.

Without warning, he slowed, easing himself into a gentler pace before rolling Astarion to his side.

Astarion blinked. “...What—”

“In a moment,” Halsin said. “I…I need—” He shuddered, and Astarion felt the tremor of his muscles.

“Oh.”

The first time they’d been together, Halsin had wildshaped. He’d said it was an accident, brought on by eagerness, and tried to brush it aside. Astarion had made it very clear it wasn’t an issue, and he had, on more than one occasion, gotten a good taste of the bear —

But the very nice bed in the very nice room in his parents’ very nice house probably wasn’t the place for that.

“What’s got you so worked up, hm?” Astarion combed his fingers through Halsin’s hair, pulling the braids loose.

“Just…this place. It’s…confining.”

Astarion nodded. “It is.”

“Forgive me, I only need a moment.”

“Take your time,” Astarion murmured, tucking Halsin’s head under his chin, moving to let his cock slip free. Astarion shuddered at the emptiness, his body begging for that heat. He kissed the top of Halsin’s head. “We’ll leave as soon as we can,” he said. “Tomorrow, if it’s possible.”

“We shouldn’t rush for me.”

“I don’t know how much longer they’ll want me here,” Astarion admitted. “Not after tonight.”

They both fell very quiet. Halsin’s breathing slowed as Astarion held him. When he felt it was all under control again, Astarion pushed Halsin to his back and kissed him.

“Let me have you,” he said. “If you want. Just lay there and I’ll do all the work.”

“Are you certain?”

“I think it’d be good for you, darling.” He snatched the oil back up and settled between Halsin’s knees. Halsin seemed far more at ease now. He moaned when Astarion slid two fingers inside him, the other hand idly stroking one massive thigh. Halsin’s cock was still hard, red and flushed from fucking Astarion. Astarion’s own twitched in anticipation.

“Astarion…”

“Ah, the ever patient Halsin, so close to begging for me.”

“I’ve no qualms about it.”

“I know, darling.” Astarion withdrew his fingers, easing forward and taking Halsin’s cock in his hand. He pressed his lips to the base before trailing his tongue upwards to the tip and wrapping his lips around it. He took as much of Halsin’s length as he could, bobbing his head a few times as he reached for his own cock and found it stiff and ready again.

“There we are,” he said, drawing Halsin’s cock from his mouth. He moved closer, taking his own in hand and moving closer, pressing against Halsin’s entrance and finding himself enveloped by a good, familiar heat.

Halsin ran warm. Every part of him did. Astarion took a moment to adjust and sighed.

“Gods, yes. So bloody perfect.” He began to move, thrusting slowly at first, watching Halsin’s face. “Is this alright, love? Like this?” Halsin nodded, so Astarion began to move a bit faster, wedged pleasantly between Halsin’s thighs as he fucked him, admiring the flush he could see crawling up his chest.

“My heart.” Halsin reached up, brushing his fingers against Astarion’s cheek. “Please.”

“More then?”

“Anything you can give, I—” Halsin’s voice broke on the next thrust, as Astarion fucked into him hard. “There,” he gasped. “Yes, I—”

Astarion moved in earnest. He was selfish more often than not, and he knew this. It was one reason they worked together so well — Halsin liked to give, Astarion liked to take.

But he could give this. He’d always give it, if Halsin asked.

In between one thrust and another, Halsin came, untouched. He spilled onto his chest, gasping into his finish. It didn’t take much more for Astarion to follow.

For a moment, they stayed that way, connected and messy and breathing heavy. Halsin brushed sweat-damp silver curls back from Astarion’s forehead and smiled.

“Beautiful.”

Astarion laughed and pulled back, climbing out of bed and getting them both cleaned up. He went to the balcony doors and shut them before getting a fresh blanket from a chest at the end of the bed.

“Thank you,” Halsin said, pulling him close.

“For what?”

“Taking care of me.”

Astarion ducked his head, tucking it under Halsin’s chin. “You take care of me all the time. Hells, you came all the way to this place. Helping you release some tension is hardly the same.”

Halsin’s hand rested on Astarion’s cheek. “You know what it means to me, Astarion.”

Astarion looked into his eyes and nodded.

Yes.

Yes, he knew.

In between everything Halsin had done for him, in between everything he’d endured and everything he had survived — he knew.

Maybe tomorrow they’d have to go, but, for now…for now they could stay like this, and anything that might trouble them could wait for the morning.

Chapter Text

The breakfast table was quiet, save for a gentle patter of rain on the windows. Astra kept fixing Astarion with a look, but he avoided her gaze, sipping his tea and listening to the clink of silverware against plates and bowls.

“If the weather clears up by nightfall, Halsin and I will take our leave. Either this evening or first thing in the morning.”

Astra’s spoon clattered into her bowl. “What? But you can’t! It’s only two more days until the party.”

“Are you sure?” Laurea asked. “You are welcome to remain, Astarion.”

Astarion looked at her. Despite everything, he did believe her. And he believed she hadn’t meant what she’d said the night before. That didn’t change the fact that it happened. And it didn’t change how he felt, or what he was to them —

A monster, wearing their son’s face.

“I appreciate that, of course. It’s just—”

Astra suddenly stood. “What did you do?” she asked, looking between her parents. “What did you say? Why are you ruining this?”

“Astra!” Evander pointed. “Sit down. That is not how you speak to your mother.”

“Is this because Astarion’s a vampire?” she asked.

Astarion’s stomach dropped.

His mother whipped her head towards him. “I asked you—”

“He didn’t tell me anything,” Astra snapped. “I figured it out myself, because I’m not a child and I am not stupid.”

“You are a child,” her mother said, “and you will take your seat.”

Astra’s jaw trembled and a second later, she turned and fled the dining room.

“Astra!”

“Just…just let her be,” Evander said.

Laurea pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did you know she knew?”

“You seemed very intent on her remaining in the dark.”

“Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.” She tossed her napkin onto her plate and stood. “What I said remains true. You are both welcome here. And if you would like, you can remain until after the party. But if you are quite ready to leave, I won’t stop you.” She turned and strode from the room.

All was quiet, again. Astarion’s father sighed. “She means it,” he said. “We won’t turn you out.”

Astarion sipped his tea. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

“Perhaps…if it’s not too much to ask. You could stay until the party? It would make Astra very happy.”

Astarion’s fingers twitched against his teacup. He glanced at Halsin, whose face remained unreadable. Astarion sighed.

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

Evander nodded. “Please do, my boy. We…well. It’s your choice, in the end. Whatever you think is best.” He tried to smile, but all he managed to do was look utterly defeated.

Astarion looked away.

When Halsin had finished eating, they returned to their room. Astarion began packing things into their trunks, but Halsin stopped him.

“My heart.”

“You heard what they said. It’s up to us. We can leave when we’d like.”

“Is that what you really want?” Halsin asked.

Astarion scowled. “Of course not. But the time for what I want has already come and gone. They made their feelings on me quite clear. If I remain, they will tolerate me. When we leave, they’ll never have to see me again. All of it is quite simple, really.”

Halsin nodded. “Very simple, it seems.”

Astarion sighed. “Please speak plainly, darling. You’re chomping at the bit to lecture me, I can tell.”

“It is hardly a lecture.” Halsin went to the balcony and opened the doors. The rain had let up. Outside, everything shimmered under a layer of water and burgeoning sunlight. Astarion followed.

“...May I confess something to you?” he asked. Halsin nodded. “I think…what I really wanted from all this was their forgiveness.”

“They don’t owe you that.”

“No, they don’t. But I thought it might fix things. Fix me.”

“You are not broken, Astarion.” Halsin turned to him. “Perhaps your spirit has been, perhaps you feel that way, but you are not. And you have never needed anyone to fix you.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t. You healed yourself, in your journey, and I have only ever done what you asked of me, or what I felt was right. I didn’t love you with the intent of repairing you, my heart. I loved you then, and I love you now, because I simply do. You helped lift the fog around me, helped me see clearly. And when I did, what I saw was you.” He took Astarion’s face in his hands and kissed him. “You don’t need their forgiveness. But if you would like their presence, there is nothing wrong with that.”

Astarion shivered. “I…don’t know if that’s possible anymore. I think…I think to them, I am well and truly dead. I should have listened to Jaheira, and to you.” He pulled back. “This was a mistake.”

“Perhaps not all of it,” Halsin said, looking down into the garden again.

Astra was there, walking between the flower patches, a leatherbound notebook in hand as she dutifully identified the flora. Astarion leaned against the railing and sighed.

“I don’t remember being her age, really. Just that I was difficult. And father paid for archery lessons, I remember that. I shot one of my tutors.”

Halsin chuckled. “I’m sure you were aiming for them, too.”

“She’s worlds apart from me. She doesn’t need this…complication.”

“It’s not a complication. At least, not to her.”

“Because she’s a child,” Astarion said. “She thinks she has someone new in her life, but after this, I won’t be back. I’ve given her hope, and now I have to take it away.” He turned and went back into the room, flopping onto the bed. “What a mess,” he muttered.

“Spend more time with her,” Halsin said, following him inside.

Astarion sat up. “Are you going deaf, darling? Did you not hear what I said?”

“I did.”

“So you think, because I’ll be leaving and never coming back, I should continue giving her false hope that she has more family she can rely on.”

Halsin raised a brow. “Can’t she, though? Is your affection for her limited to your time or presence here? Astra is a child now, but she will be grown someday, and you are destined to live a long time. Long enough to see this relationship bear fruit. You are by no means obligated, Astarion. You have done well and made a family for yourself. For us.” Halsin stepped closer, cupping Astarion’s cheek in his hand. “But part of healing yourself requires taking chances, even when they don’t always work out. You did it with your parents. Why not do the same with her?”

Astarion found Astra in the main floor library, tentatively playing a small piano.

“That sounds nice,” he said.

She looked up. “I’m wretched at it. I was supposed to have my lessons today, but no one can bring me, and mother won’t let me go into the city alone.”

“Is that so?” Astarion came and stood by the piano.

“Can you play?” she asked.

“No. I’m afraid that’s a specific torture I’m unwilling to inflict on the world.” Astarion leaned against the piano. “I could take you,” he said.

Astra’s face lit up. “Really?” Behind them, Laurea came into the room, flanked by a servant and directing a few more to begin moving furniture. “Mother, Astarion can take me to my lesson.”

“I…what?” She looked up. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“It’s really not a problem,” he said.

“I…well.” She looked between them. Someone tapped her shoulder and pointed towards a large sofa, asking something in elvish. “Just—” She grabbed someone’s arm. “Please have the carriage brought around.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Laurea sighed. “Very well. Please be careful though. Keep an eye on her?”

“Of course,” Astarion said.

Astra grinned. “I’ll go get my coat!” She ran from the room. The staff milled about, moving things and cleaning behind them.

Astarion cleared his throat. “I…think Halsin and I will remain until after your party. If that’s alright.”

Laurea nodded. “Of course, darling. That’s fine.” She stepped closer. “I…Astarion, I must—”

“Ready!” Astra shouted, her arms full of what looked like music books.

Astarion nodded. “Lead the way,” he said, and followed her from the room.

The carriage ride was rather nice, all things considered. It began to rain again — Astarion pulled his coat tighter around him and glanced out the window.

“Do vampires not like the rain?”

“It’s cold,” Astarion said. “And you need to keep quiet about that.”

Astra rolled her eyes. “Did you at least take music lessons when you were younger?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Hm.” She flipped through one of her books.

Astarion sighed. “What?”

“Nothing. I just…you don’t seem to remember many things at all.”

“I didn’t really, before I came here.”

Astra scooted closer. “Is that what happens when you become a vampire?” she asked. “You lose your memories?”

Astarion glanced at her. “...No,” he said. “Time does that. Time and…many other things.” He looked back out the window. Astra went quiet again.

Her lesson was in a rather grand building near the shops in the middle of the city. Astarion could hear the muffled sounds of piano and violin lessons taking place in other rooms. Astra told him she’d be about an hour and ran up a set of stairs two at a time, nearly knocking an old man to his feet. He made a mental note of the time and went out to wander.

The rain stopped halfway through his walk. Astarion went into a bookshop and found something he thought Gale might like, then wound up finding things for most everyone else. The shopkeepers made a note of where he was staying and a promise to send his items to the house the next morning. Astarion enjoyed the life they’d made for themselves back in Reithwin, but he had to admit — the trappings of a city proper were tempting.

When Astra was done with her lesson, Astarion suggested they wander a bit, to the girl’s utter delight.

“Not for too long, though. Mother will worry.”

“Yes, she seems to do that quite a lot.”

“She just doesn’t want anything to happen to me. Father’s been trying to talk her into letting me go away for school next year, but I don’t think she’ll budge. Maybe you could talk to her?”

“I don’t think she’s going to listen to me when it comes to keeping you safe.”

Astra huffed. “You’re all so boring,” she muttered. “This whole place is boring.”

“Do you not like living here?”

“Oh, I love Evereska. It’s beautiful and everything’s right here and our house is my favorite place in the world. I just…” She looked up and sighed.

Astarion nodded. “I understand.” He stopped by a food cart selling little cakes. “Here. Pick what you want.”

“Really?” She pointed to a pink cake and Astarion paid for it before handing it to her. “I usually come out here with one of the staff. Or Miss Reina. She never lets me have cake.”

“I’m quite certain you’re not allowed, but it’ll be our secret.”

Astra smiled and licked frosting from her fingers.

When they were back in the carriage, Astarion pulled out the one thing he hadn’t sent back to the house. “Here,” he said, passing it to her.

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

Astra grinned, carefully lifting the lid of the little box, revealing the kit inside. “Is this…for picking locks?”

“It is.”

She picked up one of the tools, admiring it. “Oh, wow.”

“If you’re going to be sneaking around, you need the proper equipment. I fully expect you to commit to practicing with them as often as you do everything else.”

“Oh, I will,” she said, beaming. “Thank you.” She moved to the other side of the carriage and sat beside him, leaning into his side. Astarion hesitated, then put his arm around her.

“Perhaps if you’re very diligent, you’ll be better at that than you are at piano.”

“You said I sounded beautiful.”

“I’m a liar, darling. I do it all the time.”

Astra fiddled with her kit. “...I suppose I shouldn’t ask when you’ll come back then.”

Astarion sighed. “Astra, it’s…it’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t seem complicated.”

“Perhaps not to you, but when you get older—”

“Don’t,” she said. “I hate hearing that.”

“You’re a child. All children do.”

She pulled back. “So I’m never to see you again? You won’t ever be back?”

“I’m not saying that. But I’m not sure your parents—”

“Our parents,” she corrected him again. “I’m your sister. I don’t care what happened to you. I don’t care that you were gone two hundred years. I don’t care that the three of you want to fight and argue and ruin everything. You’re my family.” She settled against the side of the carriage and looked out the window.

“...If I didn’t know better,” Astarion said, “that almost sounded like a threat.”

“Because it was,” she said.

After a moment, he poked her side. “Brat.”

She finally smiled. “Yes, well. You’d know,” she said, and looked out the window again.

The two days before the party passed quickly enough. Halsin worked with Astra in the garden, and Astarion continued to comb through the house while his parents were distracted, pocketing a few things he thought might have been at their old estate in the city. He was in a room he’d never been before when he stumbled upon a stack of paintings covered by an old sheet. One of them was a portrait of his mother and father, a baby held in his mother’s arms. There was no date, and they were in a nondescript room, so he couldn’t really tell if it was meant to be him or Astra. He set that one aside.

There was another, but this time he was quite certain the toddler in the portrait was meant to be him. He had a round face and delicate silver curls. He stood beside his mother’s chair, hand resting on her own as his father stood behind him.

There were more, but there was one, trapped between a large painting of a garden and the wall, that Astarion wanted to see. He reached for it —

“What are you doing?” his mother asked.

“Fuck!” Astarion spun around. “I mean—hells. Dammit. I didn’t—”

“Yes, I know.” She stepped into the room. “This is my study, technically. The door was locked.”

“I…was it?” Laurea nodded. “I was just…exploring.”

“It’s alright. The house is as much yours as ours, so long as you’re here.” Astarion raised a brow, but said nothing. His mother inspected the first painting he’d found. “This is you,” she said.

“I couldn’t be sure.”

“We have one with Astra in her rooms. If you saw it, you’d be able to tell the difference. Your father was upset they made him look so old.” She glanced at the others. “I…it wasn’t my intent to hide you away, but they were…difficult. To look at.”

“I understand.” He glanced at the portrait still hidden.

His mother leaned in and pulled it free.

It was a painting of a young elf, not much older than thirty, Astarion suspected. He had sharp, distinct features, a well defined jaw and the tell-tale Ancunín silver curls. His mother’s gray eyes looked back at him.

There’s a painting of you, but mother keeps it hidden.

Astarion tentatively reached out and touched the face in the portrait.

It’s obviously you.

“You were thirty-six. Your father was away for business, and you humored me for an afternoon.” Laurea touched the golden frame of the painting. “I wish I’d known then,” she said quietly. “But I suppose we simply aren’t meant to.”

Astarion’s hands trembled. “I…I haven’t…” He took a steadying breath. “Not for two hundred years.”

“No, I…suppose you haven’t.” His mother gently took the painting from his hands and stood in front of him. Her eyes traced all the lines and curves of his face, looking at him different than she had just a few days before, when they’d met all over again. “You are unchanged, mostly. Your eyes…your eyes are different. But…you are still you.”

“Not a monster?” he said.

“That was cruel. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He moved to turn away from her, but she suddenly reached out — and put her hand on his face.

The touch of her made him flinch, but she didn’t pull back. Knife to his fucking throat, Astarion couldn’t have recalled the last time his mother touched him, not for all the gold in the Counting House. He stared into her eyes, and she stared back, her other hand reaching for him, to cradle him in her grasp.

“I prayed you would come back to me. I never thought those prayers would be answered.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Astarion said quickly. “I know I was wretched, I know wasn’t good, but I—”

“Enough. You were as we made you. As you grew to be. I was never ashamed of you, Astarion. Your father is a crook and a criminal and I love him with every beat of my heart. I loved you then, and I love you now.”

She embraced him. Pulled him close and squeezed him tight. Astarion faltered, waiting for the other boot to drop, for her to say something he could use to push her away and run as far as he could, but —

She only held him. She only held him and cried, quietly, into his shoulder. Astarion relaxed and wound his arms around her, holding her tight, until she stopped.

Astra got in trouble for using her lockpick almost immediately, which meant Astarion was in trouble as well. He sat in his sister’s room the night before the party, watching her dismally write out the last of her school work for the day. She’d gleefully showed him her party dress, but Astarion had noticed right away it didn’t fit properly. He set to work fixing it.

When they were both done, he had Astra put on the dress so he could make a few more adjustments, poking her when she wiggled too much.

“You’re going to get stuck with a pin.”

“It feels better,” she said.

“Of course it does, it was far too big for you.”

The door to the room opened. “What’s going on in here?” their mother asked. “Why are you in your dress?”

“Astarion said it didn’t fit right.”

Astarion glanced around her. “It was too big. Just in the shoulders, and around the waist.”

Laurea made a large circle around them. “...Yes, that does look better. When did you learn to sew?”

“Quite some time ago,” Astarion said. “Here, give us a twirl.” He stood as Astra spun herself around, delighted with the results. “Perfect.”

“Please take it off so it doesn’t get dirty,” Laurea said. She turned to Astarion. “That was kind of you. Better than the lockpick, I should think.”

Astarion turned to hide his smile. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s a rather useful skill, I’ve found.”

“I’m sure.” She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said. “For staying.”

“Of course. I…I’m glad that we are.”

“I had a gift brought up to your room, I hope you both like it.” She squeezed his shoulder and left.

The gift was a very nice set of new clothes. Bitterly, Astarion noted they fit perfectly.

Halsin looked ridiculous.

“Is this…the fashion?” he asked. The collar of the shirt was very high and tight, and the front stretched across his chest and stomach. He did look handsome, Astarion thought. But then, he always thought that.

“It would appear so. It’s just for a night.”

Halsin looked uncomfortable. “Very well.” He quickly undressed and set the new clothes aside. “I must admit, while I’m happy you are feeling better about things here, I will be glad to return home.”

“So will I.” Astarion took off his new shirt and inspected it. Both outfits were silver with emerald green etching. “I think she picked these out for us.”

“That was very kind of her.”

“You don’t have to pretend to like her, you know.”

“I do like your mother. But an apology and new clothes are insignificant in the face of what your parents did. Inheritance,” he muttered. “The damnable nerve.”

Astarion winced. He’d been hesitant to tell Halsin the bulk of the story about the fight the other night. Now that he knew, he was actually rather angry, refusing to say more than a few words to Evander or Laurea at breakfast, and only speaking to Astra.

“After tomorrow, we’ll leave straight away,” Astarion said. He came up behind Halsin at the washbasin and wrapped his arms around him. “I promise.”

“I will hold you to that.”

“You are more than welcome to.”

Halsin turned and pulled Astarion flush with his chest, kissing him fiercely. “I am eager to have you back in our own bed. In our woods.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” Halsin kissed him again.

Astarion sighed. Halsin seemed to feel better after the other night, but now the clock was ticking until they would have this city behind them. He let himself be carried to bed and indulged in Halsin’s mouth for a long while until they’d both made a mess of each other and had to clean up again.

In the dark, Astarion rested in the crook of Halsin’s arm and stared up at the ceiling.

“I suppose I don’t regret coming anymore. I doubt we’ll be back, but…you were right, you know. About what you said the other day.”

Halsin chuckled. “You’re very kind to say that.”

“I can admit to it, on occasion.”

“Well, I’m glad you feel this way, my heart.” He pulled Astarion close and slipped into his trance.

The party was far grander than Astarion had imagined. Perhaps he hadn’t been paying attention to the preparations, but the staff nearly tripled overnight, and the large ballroom he’d only wandered through a day or so before was now glowing in dancing lights and different enchantments. Guests milled about and between different rooms.

He and Halsin looked the part, at least, fitting in quite well with the rest of everyone.

“I’m itchy,” Astarion muttered.

“No going back now,” Halsin said, offering Astarion his arm. They stepped further into the ballroom and were both immediately handed a glass of champagne. Astarion downed his own, then took Halsin’s and drank half. “Careful.”

“Do what you’d like, but I refuse to be sober for this,” Astarion said, leading them across the room to his father.

Evander, already slightly into his cups, grinned at them. “There you both are. Your mother has excellent taste, does she not?”

“Impeccable,” Astarion said.

Halsin nodded curtly.

“Ah, yes. Well.” Evander cleared his throat. “Your mother said you spruced up Astra’s new dress. This is her first big event, but she’s doing fine, isn’t she?”

Astarion followed his gaze. Astra was standing beside her mother, hands behind her back, listening closely to a group of adults. She looked terribly bored, and when she spotted him she excused herself and walked quickly towards him.

“Isn’t it all so nice?” she asked.

“It’s very grand.”

“It is,” she said, looking around. Astarion couldn’t help but smile — she was utterly enchanted by it all. It made him wish he could remember his first party like this.

“You both look very nice.” Laurea came towards them, dressed in a beautiful light blue dress, the same high collar as most of the attendees were wearing, with silver embroidery.

“You look beautiful, mother.” Astarion leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Yes, well.” She looked down, then to Halsin. “I know you’ve been away from it for some time, but there are some guests just over there who hailed from the High Forest many years ago. I thought perhaps you might wish to speak with them.”

This did get Halsin’s attention. He followed to where she was gesturing and nodded. “Yes, actually. I would. Will you be alright?” he asked.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Go,” he said. “Talk about trees or whatever.”

Halsin smiled and kissed his cheek. “Very well. I will return.” He nodded to Laurea and strode across the ballroom.

“Gross,” Astra said, and went to get something to eat.

Laurea sighed. “That child.” She opened her mouth to say something, just as the quartet they’d hired began to plan a new song. A few people moved out to the center of the room to dance.

Astarion offered his hand.

“Shall we?”

She smiled. “Of course, darling,” she said, and followed him.

Astarion couldn’t recall knowing how to dance before Cazador. He remembered some things — showing Violet how to waltz, for instance, or lecturing Petras on his steps. He must have learned at Astra’s age, he was quite sure of it. Regardless, it came easily to him as he led his mother in a cautious dance.

“I haven’t said it,” she said, “but I do owe you an apology, Astarion. While I…would certainly prefer you being to have what I think is owed to you, I will fight the rules on my own, and I won’t force you into anything.”

Astarion raised a brow. “Do you mean that?”

“I do. These rules are old and they were written by stuffy old elves who don’t even get married. Halsin loves you. I can see that very clearly. However you choose to live your lives together, I am only grateful that it has somehow brought you back to me. No matter the changes.”

Astarion nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “It means a great deal to me.”

She pulled back just a bit to look at him. “...You will not be back. Will you?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t expect Astra.”

“Trust me. Neither did I.”

Astarion laughed. “It’s hard to say,” he admitted. “I won’t say never. I think that would be unfair.”

“Perhaps there are other places we can find each other again. I think I may have been convinced to let Astra go away for the rest of her schooling.”

“Really?”

“After she was born I was…terrified. Scared I would lose another child. I think I’ve smothered her. I’ve smothered us all, to an extent.”

Astarion nodded. “It will be good for her. The world is beautiful.”

“Will you be there for her? If she needs you?”

“In a heartbeat,” Astarion promised, and his mother relaxed.

“That is good for me to know, I think.” The song ended, and she stepped back. “I’m going to make sure your father hasn’t promised the moon to someone,” she said, and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

Astarion watched her go. After a moment, Halsin appeared at his side.

“Well, hello.”

“That seemed to go well,” Halsin said.

“It did. And you?”

“They are good people, and quite wealthy, but they are not of the High Forest any longer.”

Astarion glanced past him, raising a brow. “I’m impressed.”

“You forget yourself, my heart. An archdruid is quite versed in social games such as these.”

“I suppose I do,” Astarion said. “Tell me, can the Archdruid dance?”

Halsin opened his mouth to respond, but they were both startled by the sound of glass shattering across the ballroom floor. The party was immediately thrown into chaos as guests fled the sudden open window where three figures were swooping in.

Astarion had not been introduced to the guest of honor yet, but he spotted the elf before the would-be assassins did. A handful more had come in now, causing chaos, diverting attention from their mark. A handful of guards had been posted around the room, quickly moving to take on the intruders.

“Astarion—” Halsin grabbed his arm, then pressed a dagger into his hand.

“You came here armed?”

“Someone taught me to be prepared,” Halsin said, just before he wildshaped into a bear.

“Gods I love you,” Astarion said, and took off across the room. He deflected one, two, three hits, sinking his blade into the gut of his attacker and taking his weapon for himself. Across the room, Halsin and one of the guards were taking on two more. One guard who’d been posted with the hill elder was holding someone off, but Astarion spotted a shadow moving behind them. He threw both blades and rushed to see if they’d hit their mark.

The hill elder looked absolutely bewildered.

“Good evening,” Astarion said, bowing, before wrenching his blades free of the now dead assassin. “Hope you’re enjoying the party!” He finished off the other attacker for the guard and pointed. “Secure the bloody window you idiot, what if there are more?”

“Uh, right! Yes, sir!”

Astarion rolled his eyes. There were still three of them, dressed all in black, but Astarion watched one party goer pick up a tray of canapes and bring it down over a man’s head before kicking him in the shins, so he was feeling good about their chances. He ran to help Halsin, but stopped dead in his tracks when—

Astra screamed. Her attacker clamped a hand over her mouth and held a blade to her throat.

“Give me the elder,” he said. “And the girl doesn’t bleed all over her pretty new dress.”

Astarion swallowed, then disappeared into the thick of the crowd. He made eye contact with Halsin, who lumbered over to the man, nearly startling him into fumbling his dagger. Halsin dropped his wildshape.

“Easy, friend.”

“I’m not your friend, tree elf. You’re a little far from home, aren’t you?”

“The girl has no quarrel with you,” he said. “Let her go, and I’m sure we can all come to an understanding.”

“I want the hill elder.”

“That is no longer possible. Your companions are dead.”

The man looked around, squeezing his hand tighter over Astra’s mouth. She squirmed and kicked, and Astarion heard the man yell as she most assuredly bit him, but he still managed to hold on.

“Then let me go,” he said.

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible either.” Halsin held out his hand. “Give me the blade, and let the child walk free.”

“You don’t know, do you? You don’t know how much power the elders have, how long they sit in their tower and act like they control us. They built these walls and made all these rules and they think it keeps them safe. But I’ll prove it doesn’t,” he snarled, dragging Astra further back. “I’ll prove—”

Astarion moved. He was quite sure the man was making a very good point, but he was going to have to finish it in the afterlife. The blade of one dagger sank into his back as Astarion slipped around, wrenching Astra free of his grasp and dragging the other across his neck. He choked and gasped, bleeding all over Astarion’s new clothes as he was lowered gently to the ballroom floor.

The room was silent. Astarion got to his feet and looked down at his kill.

Fool, he thought bitterly. Blood dripped down his dagger and onto the marble. The smell made his mouth water.

Some of the guards began to move the bodies, carrying them to one part of the ballroom, away from the guests. The hill elder approached Astarion.

“I see it was wise of me to allow you into the city.”

Astarion looked at him sharply, realizing it was the same elder he’d met that first day.

“Yes,” Astarion said. “It was.”

The elder nodded to him, then to Halsin. He was flanked by a few other officials who quickly ushered the man out of the ballroom. The party seemed to be over.

Behind him, Astra sobbed.

Astarion turned. She clung tight to her mother and father, face buried in Evander’s chest as she trembled. Astarion’s hand twitched on the hilt of his blade. Stuck outside their orbit, he wanted to go to her — but she was apart from him, tucked deep into the embrace of her parents.

Beyond that, they could see nothing in the world but her.

Chapter Text

Astarion stood in the ballroom the morning after the party. Someone was there already measuring the windows for repair, and the floor was clean of any blood or glass. If he hadn’t been the one to spill it himself, he might not have even known what happened. A very nice gift arrived from the hill elders, addressed to the Ancunín family as a whole. Only Astarion was around to receive it. It thanked them for a wonderful evening, and praised the bravery of their eldest son. The letter came with a writ, signed by the council at large, granting Astarion citizenship and the right to inherit.

“Look at that,” Halsin mused. “I think this is local honey.”

“I can’t take you anywhere,” Astarion said, flipping through the paperwork. “This seems legitimate.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Halsin opened the jar and dipped a finger in to taste. “That’s quite good.”

“Keep it, you were very brave last night.” They were sat at the dining room table alone. Astarion suspected Astra and his parents were still quite rattled. He doubted they wanted to see him again at all. “What do you think of leaving the morning after tomorrow, hm? Give everyone time to recuperate?”

“I think that sounds fine. While I take no joy in it, I may go on my own and purchase supplies.”

“Shall I have the carriage brought around for you, or do you intend to be the pony?”

Halsin chuckled and gave Astarion a very wet, honey-sweet kiss before he stood. “I will return soon.”

“Please see if you can arrange our departure as well!” Astarion called to his retreating back, before turning his attention to the writ once again.

To Astarion Ancunín, this council grants the rights and privileges of a citizen of Evereska, wherein he reserves the right to purchase and inherit land, property, and investments, as well as enjoy the potential benefits of public office. To that end, we grant him, and by proxy any spouse, offspring, or chosen individuals, those same benefits.

“Well,” he murmured. “So that’s that.” He folded the paperwork and stood, tucking it under his arm before finishing off his tea. The rest of the basket was filled with fruits, perfumes, and a handful of documents addressed directly to his parents. Astarion picked through and chose some things for himself and Halsin, along with the honey, and had someone deliver them to their room. He took the papers out and went in search of his parents.

They weren’t in the gardens, tea room, or any of the libraries. Astarion was unwilling to go back to his mother’s private study and look upon the ghost of himself anymore than he already had, so he went to the same room where he’d met with his parents twice now and knocked.

“Come in.”

Astarion opened the double doors to his father’s study and stepped inside. His father was there, alone, reading over some documents. He looked up as Astarion entered and smiled. “Hello, my boy. Come in, it’s fine. Shut the door please?” He stood and gestured for Astarion to sit. “I’d pour you a drink, but your mother can tell when I’ve had whiskey before dinner.”

“I won’t say a word.”

Evander raised a brow, then grinned. Briefly, Astarion recalled other days like this, the two of them secreting away sherry or rich chocolates, making weak promises when they each knew they were quite willing to rat the other one out, if only for their own amusement. It was never serious. Astarion recalled his father smiling a great deal, laughing and joking and making jests at the expense of others. He knew how to play to peoples’ emotions to get the things he wanted, but in the end, he really did like most everyone he met.

Astarion wondered what he would have thought about Cazador.

“Here.” He handed Astarion a glass. “To, ah. Well, to your health and mine, I suppose. Cheers.” They tipped their glasses together. Evander drank deeply. “Hells.”

“Perhaps that’s why she can tell.”

“Eh, perhaps, perhaps.” He sighed. “What’ve you got there, hm?”

“Documents from the council. These were addressed to the two of you, I didn’t open them. But this one was addressed to the family. I was…curious.”

“And? Where did that curiosity lead?”

Astarion handed over the writ. His father looked it over, flipping through the pages. When he got to the end, his brow arched in a way that made Astarion’s stomach flip over in recognition. He knew that face. He’d seen his father make it a hundred times, he was sure of it.

“Well. Would you look at that?” He handed the papers back. “Everything seems to be in order.”

“Is Astra alright?”

“She’s fine. A bit shaken up.”

Astarion set the papers aside and picked up his glass again. “I thought perhaps you might…that you were avoiding me.”

His father shook his head. “Not at all. You saved your sister last night. It was frightening, to be sure. But that was hardly your doing. I will admit, I…I barely recognized you. You moved like a shadow. Is that…were you…these past two hundred years, I suppose you’ve needed to survive,” he finally said.

“It wasn’t easy.”

“No. I suspect it wasn’t.”

“Believe me, I know you want more answers, but if I told you—”

His father held up a hand. “Astarion. I trust you when you say I would not want to hear it. I spoke with a friend of mine in the city, when your mother and I were there. He came here from Baldur’s Gate not long after we did. I asked him about the man you spoke of. He…painted a clear enough picture for me.” Evander finished off the whiskey in his glass. He reached to pour another, then seemed to think better of it. “You know, I was hoping we would get to talk before you left. Just the two of us.”

Astarion frowned. “What about?”

“About…well, what happened, I suppose. Namely, though, I wanted to know if you…if you had it in you to…” He choked on the last few words. “I wanted to know if you could ever forgive me.”

Astarion sat up. “...What?”

“I pushed you into that life. I wanted easier trade deals and better contracts. I wanted the connections I knew a magistrate could give me. I…I wanted to use you, Astarion. Yes, I thought it would give you a good future, one you were more than suited for. But I paid for your exam to be passed, on the off chance you would fail. I paid for you to get a good placement, one I could use.”

“I know these things. I never once had a problem with them. That was the system, you were the one who taught me to exploit it.”

“I was the one who practically brought the bloody Gur to our doorstep!” his father said. He covered his face with a trembling hand. “If I hadn’t suggested it, if I hadn’t been the one to push this life on you, then maybe you—”

He broke down. Put his face in both hands and began to weep. Astarion could not remember his father crying, but it was hard to know if he’d never seen it happen, or the memory was simply gone. He leaned forward.

“There is no way to know,” he said. “Time is what it is. I thought…I thought I could change that, too, at some point. But you can’t. It slips through your fingers, doesn’t it?”

“Every bloody day.”

“I came here because I wanted your forgiveness,” Astarion admitted. “I felt for the longest time that I’d abandoned you. But I know that…I know we can’t do that to one another. I won’t forgive you, because there’s nothing to forgive you for.”

His father finally looked up. He smiled. “You are changed. Whatever man you might have become, he’s gone now. Your mother and I…we’ve struggled to accept this.”

“I wish I could say that isn’t true, and I wish I could be sorry for it.”

“Bah. You’re an Ancunín. I don’t expect you to be sorry for anything.” He stood and picked up the decanter of whiskey to put it back. “I know we can’t…have what we used to. The three of us. But, before you leave, I need you to know—” He closed the distance between them, gently lifting Astarion’s face in his fingers.

“No matter what has come to pass, and no matter what happens, you will always be my son.”

Later that afternoon, Astarion found Astra in the garden, having another lesson with Halsin.

“I think this one is a raven feather.”

“That’s correct. Now, can you recall the difference between the raven and the crow?”

“Is he boring you, darling?”

Astra turned and, spotting Astarion, ran full speed towards him, nearly knocking him over with the force of her embrace.

“Astra—”

“You saved me,” she said, when Astarion had pried her off of him. He saw Halsin quickly make himself scarce.

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you.”

“You were…amazing. I’ve never seen anyone do that.”

“And I should hope you never do again,” Astarion said quickly. “Did you bite that man?”

“Very hard.”

Astarion ruffled her hair. “Good girl.”

They sat for a long while in the garden, eventually finding the same lizard she’d burst into the tea room with only a few days before. Astarion looked around for Halsin, but he was nowhere to be seen, so he did his best to lure the creature back out and they watched it scuttle around in the grass until it got bored with them both and ran off.

“Astarion?”

“Hm?”

“I know you…don’t want to come back. And maybe, if I can talk mother into letting me go to Waterdeep or Neverwinter for school you could see me there, but…would you? Come back?”

Astarion looked at her. She kept her eyes on the ground, plucking blades of grass and tossing them away from her into a steadily growing pile. Astarion reached out and cupped her chin in his hand.

“If you want me here, I will be there. Whatever you ask of me, you may have it. Do you understand?” Astra nodded. “I take care of the people I care about, my dear. And if you need me, there is nothing I won’t do to help you.”

“And you,” she said.

Astarion frowned. “What do you mean?”

Astra shifted closer to him. “What if you need help someday?” she asked. “What if Halsin or one of your friends can’t help you? What if you’re alone, and I’m the closest one?”

“You’ll help me?” he asked, unable to fight his own smile.

“I’ll help you,” she said.

Astarion tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear. “Then I will ask,” he said.

“Promise?”

He nodded. “I promise.”

Astra beamed. “Good! Now, you interrupted my lesson, so can you go find Halsin and tell him I want to finish talking about birds?”

“Are you serious?”

“Mmhm!”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “Yes, fine, I’ll go find that insufferable oaf. You know he sounds all kind and wise to you, but he’s actually a very big grouch, I’ll have you know.”

“A real bear?” Halsin said behind him.

“Don’t do that,” Astarion said.

Halsin laughed and leaned in to kiss him. “Apologies, my heart. I beg your forgiveness.” He moved past him and pointed into the treeline. “Right. Back to our corvidae lesson then? What do you know about blue jays?”

Astarion sighed as they continued walking through the garden. He glanced back towards the house, wondering if his father had spoken to his mother about the writ yet. Going back inside, he stopped one of the servants and asked after Laurea, but she hadn’t seen her since the night before. Realizing he was going to have to search the bloody house himself, Astarion began poking his head into different rooms, until he’d exhausted all of them except the eastern wing. Someone else told him those were his parents’ private rooms.

“Does the lady of the house have somewhere she likes to be alone?” Astarion asked. The servant seemed nervous. “Don’t worry, you won’t be in trouble.”

“There’s a sunroom, through the locked doors. I don’t have a key.”

“Who said anything about a key?” Astarion asked, and brushed past her. A moment later, he let himself in.

The sun room had a very obvious entrance at the end of the hall. The other doors were all closed, except for the one, which was open just wide enough for Astarion to slip inside. He went quietly, immediately struck by the scent of water and soil, and a few more steps revealed to him a room overfilled with greenery and the occasional bloom.

His mother was sitting at her easel, her profile triggering Astarion’s memory once again — afternoons spent together in the garden as she sketched or painted, while Astarion practiced his archery, read a book, or climbed their only tree.

“I wondered if you might find me here,” she said. “Once again though, these rooms are locked.”

“Perhaps you should have someone inspect these doors.”

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Would you sit for me?”

Astarion hesitated, then nodded. He came around the easel and pulled up a small chair.

“I will admit, I hoped you would.” She pulled out a large sketchbook and her charcoals. “When you were a boy I could bribe you with candies.”

“Cherry chocolates,” Astarion murmured. He recalled the taste, bursting and sweet on his tongue. “I think I remember.”

“I’m sure I have those drawings somewhere. I never threw much away. Drove your father mad.” She began to sketch — Astarion could hear the pleasant scrape of the pencil on paper. She was more peaceful now than she had been since he’d arrived.

“This room is beautiful. I remember the one we had in Baldur’s Gate.”

“This was my mother’s favorite room when I was a girl. She didn’t grow much in it though. I don’t think she liked plants. But she would have tea here, at that table. I remember the first time I was allowed in. I felt special. You wouldn’t remember it, but I brought you here when you were barely two years old.”

“You did?”

“Mmhm. I only mentioned it once or twice when you were growing up.”

Astarion frowned. “I…I told Halsin. I had a memory…maybe that’s what it was.”

“Maybe. Your father was too busy, and your grandparents were getting old. I wanted them to meet you before they passed, since your father’s parents were already gone. I think your grandfather had hoped they’d live to enjoy you when you were older. You were a bit rambunctious for them.” She continued drawing. “Look here?” Astarion did. “Very good.”

“Did you change your mind about sending Astra to school?”

Laurea paused, then continued. “No,” she said. “What happened last night certainly shook my confidence, but it also showed me that it doesn’t matter where we are. Anything can happen. We were lucky you were there.”

“Someone would have helped her.”

“But someone didn’t. You did.” She looked around the easel. “Thank you, Astarion. What you did was very brave.”

Astarion wanted her to understand that he had not learned how to kill out of a need to be brave or protect anyone but himself. He wanted her to know that he had learned these things to keep himself safe in a world that didn’t care about him.

But that would break her heart, and he’d done that enough already. They both had.

“The hill elders sent a gift,” he said.

“Gods, did they send honey?”

“I…yes, actually.”

“Take whatever you’d like, they send silly things like that all the time.”

“They also sent some papers addressed to you and father. I already spoke with him.”

“I’m sure he will complain about it later,” she said affectionately.

Astarion laughed. “Yes, well. They also sent this.” He pulled the writ from inside his shirt and handed it to her. She took it with coal-stained fingers.

“...Hells,” she murmured, looking at him. “This is…quite a boon.”

“I did save that man’s life.”

“Yes, you did.” She folded the papers and passed them back. “Well. I guess that’s settled then. I feel rather silly, making you and your partner so angry with me, but I suppose nothing can be done about it now.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Not anymore,” she said.

“...True enough.”

They fell into an easy silence, interrupted only by the sound of her sketching. Astarion glanced out the glass wall of the sunroom. He wouldn’t miss it here, he thought, but in this moment, he could see what his mother always longed for when he was younger. The way she spoke about this old estate, with its ancient garden and shining white stone.

“Well,” she finally said, “it’s by no means polished, but I certainly feel better having done it.” She motioned for him to look.

Astarion stood behind her and stared at the paper. He’d seen his portrait just the other day, but there was something different about this. How he was captured in this moment in time, exactly the way he was.

“...It’s quite lovely,” he said.

“You remain a very handsome man,” his mother agreed. “You get it from my side of the family.”

Astarion laughed as she stood. She moved to give the paper to him, but he shook his head. “It’s alright. Keep it.”

“You’re sure?” He nodded. “Well, I won’t argue. I secretly wanted it for myself anyway. Come on,” she said. “I think I need a cup of tea.”

Astra wept in front of the carriage, clinging to Astarion’s shirt.

“Can’t you just stay a little longer?”

“I’m sorry my dear, but we can’t.”

“Just another day.”

Astarion eased her off of him, taking her face in his hands. “We talked about this,” he said. “You made me promise and everything. We will see each other again.”

“But what if the whole world explodes?” she asked.

“Then I will come get you, and make sure you’re safe.”

Astra took a trembling breath and nodded. She turned to Halsin. “Thank you for your lessons. I’ll miss you, too.” She pushed herself onto his toes to hug him. Halsin knelt down to hold her properly.

“You just keep learning things. I expect next time we meet, you’ll know more than me.”

“Probably,” she sniffed. Astarion turned away.

Evander sighed. “Well, my boy.” They embraced. “I can’t say this is how I thought this tenday would unfold, but I’m not disappointed. Not at all.”

“You are each welcome in Reithwin,” Halsin said. “There will always be a place for you there.”

“That sounds lovely.” Astarion’s mother took Halsin’s hand in her own. “I must beg your forgiveness first, though. For the anger and distrust I caused you.”

“All is in the past. It is how we move forward which matters,” Halsin said, lifting her hands to his lips and kissing her knuckles. Her cheeks flushed.

“Yes, well. I, um.” She cleared her throat. “I am grateful to you for taking care of our Astarion. Your love for one another is quite inspiring.”

Halsin smiled. “Astarion and I care for one another. It is the foundation of our union. To strike a balance with one another, to be as nature is.” He looked at Astarion. “And he is quite easy to love, I will admit.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Yes, well.” He approached his mother. “I promised Astra, but I’ll promise you, too. Both of you—” He looked at his father. “We will see each other again.”

“I know it.” His mother took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. “Take care, starlight,” she murmured, and stepped back.

Halsin opened the door to the carriage. “Are you ready?”

“I think so.” He turned to them all one last time.

They were his family. Different and changed as he was, but his family still. It couldn’t be the same, and they all knew. Astarion was the creature he was — nothing could change that. He gave one last nod to them all, then turned and stepped into the carriage. The door closed, and they began to ride down the hill into the city.

“Going to the Halfway Inn?” someone called. Astarion turned. An elf in a traveling cloak was waving at him.

“Yes, I—” He frowned. “Mikael.”

“Ay, the same. But you need no introduction. The mysterious Ancunín son who saved a hill elder.” Mikael bowed. “I would be honored to escort you and your wood elf back to the inn.”

“Thank you,” Astarion said. “That would be wonderful.”

When Halsin returned from the stall he’d wanted to visit, he embraced Mikael warmly, and they loaded their things into the cart and began to head out of the city. This time, Astarion sat up front with Mikael, and they shared a small flask.

“So. Did you enjoy the city? Apart from the would-be assassins?”

“The assassins were the best part.”

Mikael chuckled. “Yes. Evereska is an…acquired taste. Perhaps you will have to come back again and see if you like it.”

“I doubt it very much.”

“Well, it will always be here for you,” Mikael said. They paused to have the cart inspected before heading into the tunnels leading from the city. “These walls will always stand.”

“A noble sentiment,” Astarion said dryly. He nodded to one of the hill elders as they passed. When he glanced over his shoulder, the city itself was becoming a small white smear on the landscape, blinding in the noon-day sun. He looked at Halsin, who had already dozed off in the back of the cart, and smiled.

“It’s a beautiful city,” he said, “but I am quite ready to be back where I belong.”

The rest of the journey was quiet. Occasionally Mikael pointed to something here or there. He seemed well traveled. Astarion paid him handsomely when they stopped, and he did the right thing and took it after feigning disinterest. He had business of his own in the village, so he led his horse and cart down the road. Halsin went to check on their own pony while Astarion paid for a room.

That night, they lay beneath the open window, sweat-damp and spent after making love. Halsin kissed Astarion’s forehead and across his cheeks, nudging up under his jaw.

“Insatiable,” Astarion murmured, sliding his fingers through Halsin’s hair. “I do need to ask you something though.”

“Anything.”

Astarion pushed himself up onto his elbow, reaching out to stroke Halsin’s cheek. “This is the last time for quite a while we’ll ever be this close to the High Forest again. I do not ask so as to pressure you, but…I don’t want you to regret it.”

Halsin nodded, turning over onto his back. He tucked one arm behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

“I would like to think on this. Just until the morning.”

Astarion nodded. “Very well.” He settled back down beside him, drawing the blanket over them both. “It’s no bother to me if you don’t, darling. I’ll go anywhere you ask.”

“I know.” He pulled Astarion close. “I will meditate on this,” he said. A moment later, Astarion could feel as he slipped into his trance.

“We’ll go,” Halsin said over breakfast. “So long as it’s no trouble.”

Astarion looked up from his book. “Really?” Halsin nodded. “Well. Wonderful. I’m terribly excited, actually.”

“For the forest?”

Astarion sighed. “Eh. I’m excited to see where you grew up. I think I have the right boots for this.”

Halsin chuckled. “Trust me, there are parts of the High Forest which are far less wild than you are imagining. Civilized, even.”

“Darling, I mean no offense, but you and I have had very different definitions of civilized since the day we met.” He stood and dropped a kiss on top of Halsin’s head. “I’ll have the rest of our things brought down and we’ll leave, hm?”

“It will not be a simple journey,” Halsin said.

Astarion shrugged. “No matter. Honestly, how much further can it really be?”

Astarion looked down at his map and frowned. “How much further can it really be?”

Halsin sighed. “I did warn you.”

“I swear this mountain wasn’t here when I looked before. I did the math, it should have only taken another tenday. We’re going into a second.”

“You didn’t complain last night when that town needed a thief apprehended.”

“Yes, I do love a good dead or alive mandate. So much wiggle room.” He sighed. “Well, you seem to know where you’re going.”

“I do,” Halsin said. “I traveled this way some years ago, when I first left the High Forest.”

Astarion glanced at him. Halsin didn’t keep secrets about his past, but there were some things he was more willing to discuss than others. Astarion knew about his time in the Underdark, and he knew that Halsin’s family had all passed. There were times when Halsin would casually mention a place he’d traveled to — like when he explained his raptor wildshape with a two year stop in Chult — but Astarion didn’t press Halsin for that information any more than Halsin had pressed him on his years under Cazador. There were some things you could have for yourself. This was another part of their relationship Astarion enjoyed. He didn’t have to give away his past.

“...We can turn around,” Astarion said. “If you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t. The closer we get, the better I feel about this. My meditations were very clear.”

Astarion sighed. “Well they could have been a bit clearer on how long it would take, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Rest,” Halsin said. “It will only be another day before we reach the forest. After that, we will use the trees.”

Astarion had no idea what he meant by that, but he climbed into the back of the cart and settled down for a little nap. He woke that evening when Halsin had already made camp. Distantly, Astarion could see the edge of a large forest.

“Is that it?”

“It is.”

“Why don’t we just push a little further then?”

“It will be protected, and I would rather enter during the day. Your vampirism will be identified immediately, and I would rather we have the benefit of the sun on our side. To prove you are not a threat.”

“Right. Bloody druids.”

“Clerics, actually. There is only one druid circle, deep in the heart of the forest. Most of the inhabitants are hunters and healers, or just forest folk.”

Astarion sat beside the fire. He did recall Halsin telling him before that he hadn’t come from a line of druids, and his communion with Thaniel was considered quite unique.

“You’ll be safe,” Halsin said quickly. “No harm will come to you.”

“I know that. I always know that.” He came around the fire and sat closer, leaning against Halsin’s side until he wrapped an arm around him. “You’re safe with me, too,” he said.

Halsin kissed his temple. “I never once doubted it, my heart.”

In the morning, they had to cross a river — by bridge, thankfully, though Astarion still kept a white-knucle grip on the cart until they were on the other side — and rode another hour towards the forest. Halsin was right — as soon as they neared, they were approached by a small group of hunters in well-worn leathers, arrows and swords at the ready.

“You’re asking for passage through the High Forest. State your business.”

“Arakhor. I am kin,” Halsin said, climbing down from the cart. He addressed them in elvish, “My family hails from a village west of Karse. The clan was called Silverbough.”

“An old name.”

“I am the last of that line. I’ve come to pay respects.”

The ranger nodded. He had facial tattoos similar to Halsin’s, but a rich green in color. He glanced up at the cart. “...You have an unnatural with you.”

“He is my partner. Where I go, he goes.”

The ranger seemed hesitant, but he looked Halsin up and down, then nodded. “Right. If I hear from anyone there’s been trouble, I’ll cut you both down.”

“That is more than fair,” Halsin said. “Thank you for your hospitality.” He climbed back into the cart, then urged the pony past the tree line. “See? Much easier in the day.”

Astarion huffed. “An unnatural.”

“Pay them no mind. We’ll stop in the first village and get passage.”

“Yes, you mentioned we’d use the trees.”

Halsin smiled. “You’ll see.”

An hour later, they’d left most of their things in a small village nestled on the forest’s edge. Halsin found a few people who knew his family name and was negotiating travel, while Astarion busied himself keeping out of everyone’s way. More than a few eyed him nervously.

“I think they know, too,” he said when Halsin returned.

“They certainly do. Come, we’re going.”

“Already?”

“It won’t take long. There is a good network of striders, we’ll be there in a few minutes.

“...Striders?”

“Yes.” Halsin led him to a large tree set away from the village. Astarion didn’t understand why it was special or different from any other tree — they all looked exactly the same — but it was flanked by two more rangers, their hands resting on the hilt of their swords. A cleric of Silvanus approached the tree and began to chant an incantation. When she was finished, nothing seemed to happen, until the bark began to split and cracked in front of them, opening up to another completely different part of the forest.

“Go,” she said. “Quickly.”

Halsin gave Astarion a nudge and he rushed through the opening in the tree.

They did this three more times, moving deeper and deeper into the forest. After the last one, Astarion looked around to see where to go next, but Halsin followed him, and no one else was around. The woods were quiet, save for the chittering of birds and the rush of wind through the limbs overhead. Astarion was struck by how little else he could hear. Each step sounded like thunder to his ears.

They had come out of the last tree and upon a small group of houses, overgrown by vines, weathered by time. No one had lived here for some years, it seemed. Astarion approached one, pressing his hand to the ancient wood. “...Is this where you grew up?”

“Yes.” Halsin pointed. “That house was my mother and father’s. This one was my grandfather’s. An uncle. Cousins. Their partners and children. We all lived here together. It was…beautiful.”

“Seems that way.”

“Here.” Halsin pointed to a large tree just beyond the homes. “This one. I climbed up and was too afraid to come down. My mother was furious,” he murmured, and laughed, pressing his hand to it. He looked around. “I thought perhaps another nature spirit might make its home here, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. A pity.”

“Maybe it takes more time.”

Halsin made a noise and continued walking. Astarion let him be — he seemed rather lost in his memories. Every so often he would pick something up, inspect it, and toss it aside. The houses were old, but standing well enough. He rifled through them, but they’d long since been picked clean by the forest's other denizens or passing travelers. Eventually, Halsin motioned for Astarion to follow him, and they walked through the woods until they came to a large clearing with a massive tree in the middle. Astarion felt something warm crawl across his skin, almost like burning.

“What—”

“The Grandfather Tree knows what you are. You’re safe with me,” Halsin said. “But we shouldn’t linger.”

“I can go—”

“No. I met your family. I would like you to meet mine.”

Halsin led him across the clearing. When he’d told Astarion his family was buried beneath a tree, Astarion hadn’t really considered its size, nor had he thought others might have done the same. Most of the markers were ancient, nearly covered by the forest floor, faded with time. Halsin eventually stopped and knelt by a small set of stones, each a few feet apart from one another.

“Here,” he said. “Here they are.”

Astarion hesitated, then knelt beside him. “...It’s beautiful here.”

“The Grandfather Tree protects this forest and anyone near it. I knew I couldn’t remain here after they were gone, but I wanted them to be safe in my absence. Everything happened so quickly, when they…when they died. I felt unprepared. And I couldn’t bear my own solitude.”

“You did right by them.”

“I did what I could. Often it felt like it wasn’t enough.”

“Halsin…”

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “I don’t pity my past self. You shouldn’t either.”

Astarion nodded, and they both fell quiet again. After a few moments, he reached over and took Halsin’s hand in his own. Halsin threaded their fingers together, and they stayed that way for some time. Astarion still felt uncomfortably warm, but he could endure this, just a little longer.

Eventually, Halsin stood. “Come. I have communed here long enough. The tree stands. These woods are protected, and so are my kin.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” Astarion said quickly. “I just…there’s something I want to do.” Halsin raised a brow, watching as Astarion knelt down again and closed his eyes.

It hadn’t been easy, learning even this bit of magic. He wasn’t made for it by any means, and his very nature fought him every step of the way, but — Astarion had endured far worse. And, eventually, he’d managed to get it to do this —

“Flowers,” Halsin said. “How did you learn this?”

Astarion watched the pale blue blossoms climb out of the dirt around the stones and stepped back to admire them. “Oh, what, like it’s hard?” he asked, already feeling a bit dizzy. Firebolt was one thing — an entirely different type of magic was another. “I’d planned on doing something a bit more exciting, but I think I like this more.”

Halsin stepped closer. “It’s beautiful,” he said, and leaned down for a kiss.

They spent the night in the forest, well away from the Grandfather Tree and Halsin’s old home. Here, they were well and truly alone, camped by a little babbling creek. It felt like their earliest times together, alone under the stars, laid out in the darkness. Astarion straddled Halsin on his bedroll and kissed him expansively, slowly pulling off their clothes piece by piece, until they were naked beneath the moonlight.

“Perfect,” Halsin said. He arched up and against Astarion, their cocks sliding together. Astarion reached down and wrapped his hand around them both, rocking his hips back and forth. Eventually he fetched a little vial of oil from his bag and opened himself up, preening under Halsin’s hungry, approving gaze.

“That’s it,” Astarion moaned, sinking slowly onto Halsin’s cock. He looked up at the sky and smiled. For all that he adored his creature comforts, he had come to love being with his partner this way, exposed to nature, to the beams of moonlight coming through the trees. Halsin groaned and thrust up, hard. Astarion shouted and gasped, meeting him thrust for thrust. He kept thinking he might get the bear sooner or later, but Halsin remained as he was. When Astarion leaned down to kiss him, he could feel and taste the joy on his tongue, running hot through his veins.

“May I?” he whispered, and Halsin nodded, tipping his head to the side. With a moan, Astarion slid his fangs into Halsin’s neck and began to drink deeply. There was something about this place, something about the tenor of the land beneath them. It made Astarion feel powerful, and without thinking, he planted his hands in the dirt, feeling Halsin rise up to meet him as the ground around them burst with flowers and greenery. Astarion pulled off with a gasp, dribbling blood over Halsin’s chest and looking around.

Halsin smiled. “Look at you,” he said. “Already a natural.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“It’s incredible.” Halsin sat up, pulling Astarion’s legs around his waist and planting his hands firmly on either side of his hips. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”

Astarion could only nod as Halsin began to pull him down onto his cock again and again, so deep and large inside him, Astarion felt like he was choking with it. He moaned and let his head fall back, clinging to Halsin for dear life as he fucked him. Astarion came, but Halsin wasn’t finished, tipping him over and onto his back, into the bed of flowers Astarion had just grown. Each slam of his hips made Astarion gasp — he dug his nails into Halsin’s neck and pulled him in for a wet, searing kiss, babbling on every stroke.

His head fell back, and he felt Halsin’s teeth marking him, hot and sharp along the pale column of his throat. His cock drove hard against that spot deep inside him, sending waves of pleasure rolling through his body. Halsin could keep at this, he was practiced and strong, and he was still going when Astarion came a second time, clawing lines across Halsin’s shoulders as he wailed and arched his back.

“More,” he gasped. “Please.”

Halsin groaned, taking Astarion’s wrists and pinning them to the ground. It was damp and soft beneath them, streaking Astarion’s hair with dirt and grass stains, but he didn’t care. He was spread and filled and every drag of Halsin’s cock inside him was another prayer, another wish, another thought that they would endure even this together — the past and the passage of time, the call and response of the future that unraveled out to meet them. Astarion’s entire body jerked with pleasure. He lost track of the time, realizing he was going to come again when Halsin began to slow, pushing into Astarion and biting into his shoulder.

“Once more, my heart. I know you can.”

Astarion nodded, his entire body on fire with want and pleasure. He focused on Halsin, on the feel and power of him, on everything that he was. Astarion came, and Halsin followed, half roaring into his finish, filling Astarion perfectly and completely. It felt like it wouldn’t end, the pulse of his cock, the heat of everything. Halsin breathed heavy and hard above him, still holding his wrists to the ground. When he finally released, Astarion stayed there, staring at the stars above. He choked on a sound when Halsin pulled his cock free, feeling his spend slip down and onto the ground beneath him. Halsin pulled his fingers through it, pressing it back inside before bringing them up to Astarion’s lips.

“Very good,” he murmured, and kissed him.

When Astarion felt like he could move again, he realized there was a twig poking into his back. He sat up and tossed it away with a scowl. Most of his flowers were crushed. He flopped back down with a groan. “Hells.”

Halsin chuckled. “Yes. We certainly outdid ourselves, I think.”

“You were a man possessed. I thought I might get the bear.”

“I didn’t feel the need. Though I will be happy to oblige, come morning.”

“If I am able to walk, perhaps.”

“You’ll be fine,” Halsin said, drinking deeply from his waterskin. He went to the creek and refilled it, coming back with a damp cloth in hand. Reverently, he wiped the sweat and come from Astarion’s skin, kissing as he went. When he was done, he went and stood in the creek to bathe himself. Astarion rolled onto his stomach, chin in hand, and admired him.

“Why didn’t you come back here?” he asked. “After you were done traveling? I can tell you love it.”

“I do,” Halsin admitted. He returned from the creek and sat down on the grass and flowers. “But it stopped feeling like home, eventually. I was a child in these woods, and I buried the last of my kin here. I am all that remains. The end of a legacy, I suppose.”

Astarion frowned. He rose on shaky knees and crawled to Halsin, pulling himself into his lap and kissing him. “Don’t talk like that,” he murmured. “You live on elsewhere. You live on in Reithwin. In our friends.” He held his face and kissed his brow. “In me. All that you’ve done, my love, will long outlast your name. I swear it.”

Halsin took a steadying breath, wrapping his arms around Astarion’s waist and pulling him close. “My heart,” he said. “I love you more than I can say.”

“I know.” Astarion kissed him again and held him under the moon. “I know.”

The forest was a distant spot behind them when they began to make their way south once more.

“We’re closer to Waterdeep than we are anywhere else,” Astarion said, folding his map. “Could pop in on Gale, give him a fright.”

Halsin chuckled. “Say the word and I’ll take us there,” he said.

Astarion sighed. “No, I don’t think so. As hilarious as that might be.” He looked behind him, then reached over and took Halsin’s hand. “You know what I think?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess, my love.”

Astarion pushed himself up and kissed his cheek. “I think I’m finally ready to go home.”

Halsin turned and smiled. It was a half-golden, brilliant thing, and Astarion loved every bit of it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever tire of looking at it, and it made him smile in return before he looked down the road at the long journey ahead.

Doesn’t matter, he thought. He’d come a long way for this — for his family and Halsin’s, for his own peace of mind and for everything that lay ahead. What was a tenday to ten years? A decade to a century?

Astarion twisted the ring on his finger and turned his face like a flower to the sun.