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#Jaheira rebuilding Baldurs Gate
dontmesswithnoheroin · 4 months
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I finally got the romanced spawn!Astarion epilogue and my first epilogue in the game I'm ,,,,,,,,,,
I need to lie down
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blackjackkent · 2 months
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Jaheira quirks an eyebrow up at Hector as he approaches and gives him a fastidious look up and down. "Well now," she says teasingly. "You *can* make yourself presentable, when you have a mind to."
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Hector rolls his eyes at her and grins. With Jaheira, as with no other member of his companions - even with Karlach - he has always had a strangely bantering, teasing relationship. He has always, almost from the first moment they met, felt comfortable with her, and has missed her wisdom and her steady presence tremendously in the Hells.
"That makes one of us," he shoots back, equally teasing.
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She barks a laugh. "Hah! Forgive me... I am simply excitable. It is good to be out under an open sky once more." As Wyll did, she takes a long and appreciative sniff of the open forest-scented air.
"My first since the reconstruction began," she explains. "We left quite a mess behind, but the city begins to look something like itself once more." She scoffs mock-dismissively. "Same twisting alleys for purse-pickers. Same wooden buildings, ready to get burnt by next year's dragon. Same cisterns overflowing..."
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Hector smiles. She speaks dismissively of the city but he knows, deep down, that its survival is important to her, and not just because of her children tying her down there.
"How do you think the rebuilding is going?" he asks.
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She chuckles. "Baldurians simply... get *on* with it," she says. "Stubbornness? Civic spirit? Plain stupidity? Perhaps all three - but nothing I will sniff at any longer."
She waves her hand as if to indicate a wide crowd of gathered forces. "Harpers have come from half the world over to lend aid. Farmers, masons, healers... My own son Jord has been wooed to their ranks. Already he plants crop cycles in Wyrm's Crossing."
He can hear the pride in her voice, mixed with affection - and some frustration as she goes on: "Not so for my daughter. Rion's rejoined the Flaming Fist - temporarily, you understand, to 'organize the craftsmen.'" She snorts. "Though she spends more time locking up comrades for pocketing aid funds. They might learn a thing or two - if they don't expel her. Again."
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He nods, listening intently, drinking in the news of the city, of her family, of anything she wants to talk about. "All well and good," he prods, "but what about you? I want to hear what you've been up to."
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"Honestly?" she quips. "Much more sitting down than I'd like." She grins, seeing the smile this elicits on his face. "Mistake me not, there is still much to be done. Plans to make. Maps to be frowned over." She shrugs. "But my children are more than capable of doing it. Even the young ones tire of me peeking over their shoulders. This night offers them a brief respite from me, at least."
She looks around thoughtfully, taking in the small campsite, the people thronged through it. "And this place, now I look at it... it is where you all spent your first night together, no? A fine spot for an adventure to begin... a fine spot indeed."
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Hector's smile fades and he watches her keenly, reading the expression in her eyes. "You're not going back to the city, are you?" he asks softly.
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She chuckles, feeling herself so easily read. "Of course I am," she says mildly. "Perhaps just... the long way around. It would be good to stretch my legs for a bit." She shakes her head. "I'll find my way back, as I always do."
She gives an exaggerated sigh. "I admit defeat. Baldur's Gate is my home." She tips her head to one side, in an attitude he has noticed she uses when she feels she has a lesson to impart. "But that is the thing about home," she says gravely. "The only way to see it clearly is to leave and look back - for a little while at least."
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She fixes her eyes back on him, and it is his turn to be read, her eyes seeming to look through him, searching out his thoughts. "For all your travels," she says gently, "I hope you have arrived where you want to be. Home, whatever that means to you."
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He has given a lot of thought to this, over the months. The definition of home. Once, it was the monastery, without question, but that was before the nautiloid, and he looks back on it now as something that is of his past, somewhere he cannot return in the same spirit in which he once lived there. Avernus, for all that it has housed them for some time now, is not really home either, not where there is no moonlight. And this camp and the others like it, the travels that made him who is is now... for a time they were home, but that time is past as well.
But there is only one real answer. His home and his heart are within Karlach now, in the life they build together, wherever it happens to land.
"Karlach and I are each other's homes," he says quietly, just a little sheepishly, "in wild Avernus..."
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She reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, a warm touch of reassurance, solidarity, wisdom. "Karlach is lucky to have you," she answers. "And know that you are not forgotten; if your friends don't drag you from the hells, it will only be because you've freed yourselves first."
She must see the emotion in his face, the lump rising in his throat, because she gives him a gentle shake and releases his shoulder, stepping back. If he needed to cry on her shoulder, he suspects she'd allow it, but the sentimentality is not in her nature either.
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"But there will be more to discuss on that matter," she says lightly. "First - I must inspect the refreshments." She gives him a teasing wink. "You never know. Some ne'er-do-well might have tampered with the wine."
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faerievampling · 3 months
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Miracle
Summary: Years after the defeat of the Netherbrain, Astarion and Tav discover they are pregnant.
link to ao3!
Part 2
Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Female Tav/Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warning: 18+. Mention of breeding. breast milk. pregnancy. Astarion being very horny for all these things. body worship. angst. changes in POV focus. brief mention of abortion.
A/N: I'm totally going to write more about these two. I need a pregnant adventuring Tav and protective Astarion.
You had been cleaning off your armor after a long day of running errands for Jaheira and the Harper’s when you notice Astarion’s eyes on you.
You could feel his stare, and as you turn to meet it, the look on his face is peculiar, somewhere between shock and amusement. 
“Darling?” You ask, stopping your task to fully soak in his expression. “Astarion -“
“It’s nothing, my love, nothing,” His voice is dismissive, waving his hand as he tries to push beyond whatever he has been thinking. 
You notice his ruby eyes don’t leave yours for the rest of the evening. You can’t help but feel as though your vampire is avoiding you. 
But you decide to give him his space: this was often the remedy for Astarion’s mood swings. 
***
Astarion couldn’t figure it out. 
You had rarely left his side for the past few years. When would you have had the time to steal away with another man? 
Astarion wondered who he was, what he looked like. 
He curses. Why hadn’t he ever picked up the scent of this mystery man? His smell would have been all over your body.
And Astarion knew his nose was working just fine: your change in smell had been the very first thing he picked up on. Astarion certainly thought it strange, but he chalked it up to a weird diet. The two of you had been running through the wastes of Rashemen, and you had eaten a questionable animal that one night. 
No, it wasn’t that, Astarion was certain. That little flutter of a quickening he had heard earlier couldn’t be denied. Even though you were just on the other side of the wall, Astarion could hear the gentle thrum of two heartbeats. 
He sighs, running his hands through his curls. He’s certain that you don’t know. You weren’t good at hiding things, and you rarely attempted to lie anyways because you are such a sweetheart that it didn’t make any sense at all for you to have bed with another man and cause Astarion pain like this.
Astarion knows he just needs to talk to you, but for the unlife of him, can't figure out where to even remotely begin. Pregnancy and childbirth was…he didn’t even want to think about it.
A child? He can’t even really fathom having one around.
Astarion sits up, having found the resolve to finally confront you, and finds you on the porch of Jaheria’s estate, your eyes mindlessly scanning the streets of Baldur’s Gate.
Astarion takes your image before interrupting whatever thought you were having: you were a vision, a rare beauty that Astarion was so lucky to find. 
He swears his heart flutters for you sometimes. “Do you like being back in the city?”
You nearly jump, startled by the question. 
“Sorry, darling,” Astarion murmurs in apology.
You smile, laughing a bit as you collect yourself. “I do. It’s nice to see it all back together. The rebuilding efforts took longer than expected,” 
Astarion fears you’re going to keep talking about the mundane when all he can focus on is the beat of that little heart and how round and plump your breasts look beneath that blouse.
Astarion swears you’ve never filled out before; not like that.
“You’re staring again,” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. Astarion can see the worry in your face. “Just tell me, Astarion.”
Astarion swallows. “Well,” Astarion stumbles, rolling his eyes at himself as he tries to find his words. This hurt more than he thought it would. “You’re with child, Tav.”
***
You’re speechless. 
“I’d rather like to know who the father is.” Astarion’s eyes are round, wet, tears already lining them. He blinks them back quickly, trying to compose himself. He almost seemed surprised by his sudden lack of control of his handsome face.
“What?” You ask incredulously. 
“I’ve been trying to imagine him, to think about when you could have…” He stops himself, swallowing his upset before continuing to ramble: he keeps talking, stumbling while you’re still processing what he just said.
You interrupt him.“You’re saying that I’m pregnant?” 
“Yes.”
You’re silent for a while. You can feel Astarion’s nerves fraying at the seams, his emotions emanating through him, producing an aura that has encompassed you both. It made time feel slow.
“How do you know?” You ask a bit stupidly. You hardly had missed your monthly bleeding, only being a few days off, which was very normal for you.
“I can hear it. The heartbeat.” His voice is low, guarded. There is a thick moment of silence.
“Surely not,” You almost laugh. But Astarion’s face is still, eyes round and wide as he studies you. He looks devastated, and it makes your stomach drop.
You realize he’s being serious, asking you in earnest if you had been with another. You think you should say something. 
“You’ve been my only lover since the clearing, Astarion.” You want to reach out to him, but you think not. If Astarion had hackles, they would surely be raised. 
“So you’re going to chalk this up to some immaculate conception?” Astarion spats cruelly, his agitation getting the better of him as he flails his hands. “Instead of just telling me the truth?” 
You’re speechless again. You knew he wouldn’t lie about this, so you desperately try to accept the fact that you’re pregnant with Astarion’s child as he, the very man who has bred you, yells at you.
“Close your mouth, darling, you aren’t a fly trap.” Astarion quips, crossing his arms. 
The anger is rising inside you, his offense reaching a boiling point. Your fists clench, your eyes narrowing as you try to reason with him.
“Four weeks ago, we were in the Rashemen wilderness with only Minsc and Boo as our company,” Is all you can say. 
Astarion’s expression is locked in between confusion and betrayal. “Minsc has his charms.” 
You scoff. “You can’t be serious, Astarion.” Astarion’s gaze meets the floor. 
As you study your lover, your anger dissipates. You see how hurt he is, how unsure of himself he feels. He wasn’t likely to tell you that outright, but you knew.
You can’t place how you feel, anymore. You aren’t numb, per say, but there is a distinct lack of feeling within you. You hadn’t thought this a possibility. You didn’t know if you were happy or sad, or if you would even be up to the challenge.
You needed some time to think, to let this soak in. 
“You know, I just remembered that Shadowheart invited me over for tea the other day,” Your excuse is lame, but Astarion doesn’t stop you as you awkwardly walk down the steps, off to the crowded streets of the city. 
***
Astarion was a mess the whole time you were gone. He tried to keep himself busy by doing various things around Jaheira’s house, but he kept finding himself lost in thought, thinking about that little bundle of life inside of you.
He felt greatly relieved when you returned.
He waited for you in one of the spare bedrooms, the one you always shared when you two passed through Baldur's Gate. 
He was pretending to read when you came in, trying not to seem too eager to talk with you. He heard the continued thump of the little heart beat alongside your own. His anxiety is paramount, but he feels a wave of relief crash over him at the sound of the life inside of you.
Astarion tried to accept that you hadn’t slept with anyone else: you couldn’t have, it was literally impossible. And he knew you never would have, anyways. But, since you didn’t sleep with another man, that meant that he, Astarion Ancunin, impregnated you. 
“How was your date with Shadowheart?” Astarion asks, peeking over his book. You had begun to undress yourself, and Astarion couldn’t help but steal a glance. 
He noticed the sway of your breasts as you freed them; the tips of them being especially tight and a darker pink than usual. 
Gods. It was like you were purposefully wafting your scent right in his face. You were sweeter than usual, and Astarion felt a bit ashamed at his growing stiffness. 
Earlier, he had accused you of sleeping with another man, even though he very well knew you hadn’t. And now, he was ogling you, thinking about all the pregnant women he had seen in his long life: it hadn’t been very many. Pregnant women didn’t often frequent the flophouses late at night. 
But he imagined how your belly would swell, how your hips would round, and how your breasts would become even larger…the thought aroused Astarion, far more than he expected it to. He had to stop himself when he imagined your milk-filled breasts; another bodily fluid of yours that your vampire was desperate to taste.
“It was alright,” Your voice was shaky as you finally covered your breasts, to Astarion’s relief. He tried to ignore his swollen cock. “She confirmed. What you said.” 
Astarion places his book down, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, placing himself closer to you. He really doesn’t know what to do, or how he feels, but Astarion does know one thing: that he adores you, and he can’t handle the distance between the two of you. 
So, the vampire reaches out, desperate for your contact. Astarion feels much better when you take his hand, sitting next to him.
“I’m sorry for my accusation earlier. I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around it all.” His tone is good humored, down to earth, as he wants to be sweet to you. You deserved it.
“It’s rare. Practically a miracle.” You say, but your face is absent of the smile that Astarion had expected from you.
Astarion didn’t really know how you felt about children. He assumed you didn’t want them because you chose to be with him, but he expected you to be a little bit happier than you looked. 
“There are remedies, you know. If we don’t want this.” You say, looking away from him as you do. 
“Well…it’s your body, Tav.” Astarion spoke gently, wanting to be careful with you, because you were always so careful with him. “I can’t tell you what to do with it.” 
Astarion imagined that if taking care of seven thousand vampire spawn in the Underdark was something the two of you had managed, then a child couldn’t be too difficult. (Many years from now would prove Astarion very wrong in thinking this).
“What If I keep it? Would you leave me?” You speak quietly, carefully, as if you were treading dangerous waters; asking questions you didn’t actually want to know the answer to.
Astarion doesn’t hesitate, desperately wanting to comfort you. “No,” Astarion squeezed your hand, grabbing the other as you faced each other. “I honestly can’t imagine a scenario where I would.” 
You smile a bit, and Astarion smiles back. “So, what do we do?” You ask tentatively. 
Astarion sighs, a hand going to caress your cheek, bringing you closer as he pulls you into a tender kiss. “We keep living, of course.”
Part 2!
Masterlist
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tragedybunny · 4 months
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I Should Tell You - Chapter 1
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༺Summary༻
In a fit of guilt, Astarion tries to confess his deception to you. At the last moment, he loses his nerve and ends your relationship with another lie. He's resigned himself to having lost his chance with you forever when once again everything changes. With the two of you out on your own, will he be able to take a chance and tell you everything, and will you forgive him when he does?
༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Female Reader
༺Warnings༻ Sexual references
༺Word Count༻ 1888
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Astarion was, well, he was loath to admit it, but he was brooding. He’d taken up a private room at the Elfsong now that everything was over, one where he could keep protected from the sun while the rest of his companions, yourself included, lived their lives in the light of day. Slowly, condemned back to the shadows, locked in his room with drapes drawn tight against the burning daylight, he’d drifted further and further away from the group. Culminating in tonight, where he had one perfunctory drink at the farewell party and slipped off away from the group to hide out amongst his books and the shadows of his mind. 
For the last several weeks, everyone had put their all into assisting Baldur’s Gate in starting to rebuild. Those who were left anyway, Wyll and Karlach were in Avernus, and Lae’zel was off to wage war on Vlaakith. Now those who were left would be parting ways as well, Shadowheart to see the world, Gale back to Waterdeep, Jaheira and Minsc to rebuild the Baldur’s Gate Harpers, and you and Halsin…hells, he didn’t want to know. 
If he were being honest with himself, which felt like it was to be avoided these days, there was more to his self-imposed exile than returning to a nocturnal life. Seeing the two of you together made it feel like a dagger was shoved between his ribs and playing around with his insides. 
And the worst part was, it was all his fault. He couldn’t be mad at you or the infuriatingly perfect Druid. Well, he shouldn’t anyway, he still found himself wanting to shred Halsin’s throat with his teeth every time he pulled you close and kissed you like you were a goddess he was paying worship to. He’d done it to himself though, weaving a web of lies and manipulations so dense he’d trapped himself while you slipped through, unscathed. 
That web became too entangled with the way you’d stood firm against that Drow, for him. You’d seen him as a person, and he’d repaid that by seeing you as a pawn. At least at first. By the time you shouted at that vile creature on his behalf, he’d become so hopelessly lost in the strands of feeling that had grown and wrapped around his heart, he knew he had to give up the plan, and give you the truth, even if you hated him for it.  
As soon as your group had made camp that night, not far enough from the shadows of Moonrise Towers for anyone's comfort, he'd made his way over to you. “I want to thank you,” he’d started, sure of his course. “For what you said whilst in front of that vile Drow…
“...You made me realize I never stopped thinking like his slave.” He drew in a breath, despite the fact that he didn’t need it, and froze. Patiently, you stared up at him with that affectionate look you always had, giving him space to collect his thoughts. You, the fount of warmth and sweetness he didn’t deserve, the love he couldn’t hope to keep. Frantically, he willed himself to speak, to tell you what you needed to know, no matter the consequences.
“And I realize I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.” The words had spilled out of his lips before he could think them through and he watched as your eyes widened in hurt. 
“Gods no, what the fuck are you doing,” he cursed himself, but still the words came. 
“Being with someone still feels tainted, I need to figure out who I am, what I want.” Finally, he’d bitten down on his own tongue to stop the tide, but the damage was done. 
Those loving eyes of yours sparkled with tears, but that composure he’d begrudgingly come to admire since he met you held firm. “Is this really what you want, Astarion?” 
“No, no, no. I want you, I want it to be real.” If he gave you the truth and you sent him away, he couldn’t bear it. At least this way he could salvage your friendship, still bask in your light from time to time. The excuse was flimsy, even to himself, but he’d been a liar from the start. 
“I think it's for the best, I'm sorry.” Twice, he’d lied to you, twice, there would never be any coming back from this. “Please don't be mad at me.”
You stepped forward and he instinctively came close to cowering away. But you weren’t intent on harming him, instead wrapping your arms around him in a gentle embrace. “I think I understand. I’m not mad if this is what you need.” 
Your arms felt as though they were crushing him, their touch burning his skin. The urge to pull away and flee was almost overwhelming. But you deserved this one last bit of comfort. “Thank you,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder, breathing you in, and resigning himself to a life without this.
After you finally pulled away, you went to his tent and packed your things, leaving to set up on your own and let him endure the night without you at his side. There was a time when he’d never believe his own space could feel so empty. Back in the spawn dormitory, he would have given anything for this solitude. Now it was wretched. And so his first night alone was passed in miserable resolution, and when the day dawned, he went on as though all was right. 
It wasn’t lost on him that you would eventually find other companionship, you were attractive, witty, brave, and immensely caring. And from what he’d seen, you certainly weren’t interested in a celibate lifestyle. That line of reasoning still didn't prepare him for the night the group camped outside Rivington. 
Astarion had just returned from a hunt, the blood of a rabbit fresh on his tongue. It wasn’t you but he hadn’t dared ask to touch your neck after everything, electing to spend his trance hours dreaming of those moments between you instead. It was better than the nightmares of Cazador and his tortures at least. As he’d crept into the circle of ruined buildings that camp had been set up in, he stopped short, the world feeling as though it was closing in around him. 
You were talking to Halsin, who held one of your hands in his, and somehow, even with his ridiculously large hands, delicately brushed a strand of hair behind your ear with the otherl. Time slowed and Astarion felt as though the blood in his stomach might make its way back out of his mouth. 
In the dim firelight, the stars gleaming without a cloud to obscure them, Halsin kissed you. Softly, slowly at first, and then his hands wandered to your hips to pull you in as he deepened it. Your hands came to rest on those broad shoulders and instead of pulling away as Astarion desperately hoped you would, you leaned into it, eager and wanting. He wasn’t close enough, but Astarion could swear he heard the little moan you probably made. The same sound you used to make for him. 
Halsin stared down at you after breaking the kiss, no doubt with naked lust written on his face, and offered you his hand again. And that was the that, the two of you began to quietly walk away from camp while Astarion fled to his tent, crawling into his bedroll and desperately choking down the sobs that threatened. 
It had been bound to happen, but how soon, was what burned from the inside out. Just like that, you’d forgotten all about him, as though he hadn’t mattered in the first place.  How dare you. He tried to summon anger with you, to wash away the pain. It was a betrayal, he had every right to be angry. You waited for no time at all, you moved on so easily, you…you just forgot he loved you. 
Not that he’d ever said it, but you must have known. The bedroll was even colder than usual as Astarion clung to the one object he found comfort in. Kept secreted away amongst his things, a shirt of yours he managed to pilfer before his botched confession. By day, it was tucked in his pack, and at night it filled his bedroll beside him. Pulling it into his arms, he inhaled what was left of your scent on it, and buried his face in the pillow to weep bitter tears. 
He emerged the next morning into daylight that no longer held the promise it had so recently. Almost immediately you ran to him, taking your arm in his, giving him a moment of foolish hope. If things had gone badly between you and Halsin, he would rectify his mistake and tell you everything, he privately swore. 
All it took was one look in your eyes to know that hope was in vain. “Astarion, I need to tell you something, and I wanted you to hear it from me first.” You led him away from the rest of the group, almost to the spot where he’d seen you with Halsin. The rest of your companions pretended not to notice the obvious personal moment occurring a stone's throw away from them.
It was a good thing he'd cried every tear he had last night. “Well go on Darling, don't keep me in suspense,” he plastered on a grin. 
“The thing is,” you look everywhere but at him, “Halsin and I, well, things happened between us last night, and I think I'd like to pursue whatever this is. It just felt right to tell you first.”
Astarion laughed, a hollow sound to his own ears, but convincing enough for you, it seemed. “My Dear, you were worrying yourself about this? Don't vex your pretty little head like that, I don't begrudge your need for intimacy. Even if I fail to understand the appeal of a man who's always going on about enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts.”
“Astarion,” you scolded, but a subtle smile told him you were relieved. “Behave yourself.”
“Let me have a little fun at your expense.” He disentangled his arm from yours, its warmth suddenly smothering. Taking your hand, he kissed it gently. “I'm glad, you deserve to be happy.” That part he did mean, even as he reviled how it was happening. “And I'm sure you and Halsin will be. Don't worry about me.”
“Please worry about me. Can't you see how I'm bleeding?”
Leaning up, you kissed his cheek, with all the gentleness in the world. “Thank you, Astarion, I'm glad you understand, I'd never want to hurt you.”
From that moment on, you were Halsin's and Astarion had to grin and pretend to be happy for you. That's what friends were for and you insisted you two were friends. The two of you seemed so disgustingly infatuated with each other, he wanted to scream at times. So naturally he'd assumed you'd be happily headed out on some grand, romantic journey together. 
Which was why it startled him to nearly a second death when you burst into his claimed sanctuary, clearly distraught and slamming the door behind you. “I'm sorry… I can't be in there,” you gasped out between sobs.
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cryptidcryptic · 1 month
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I truly love the headcanon of AA and Jaheira just hating eachother on such a deep petty level like, they just clash all the time when rebuilding baldurs gate over the most inane decisions possible
Jaheira: I believe we should build a park here for the local wildlife-
AA: -actually, Jaheira. I believe an ophanage would be a better addition here, there are so many orphans made after we so graciously saved the city. And you do care about the children, don’t you?
Jaheira, through gritted teeth: then I propose we make the park next to the orphanage so the children have a place to play.
AA, fully petty:-that’s a great idea but, I believe a library would fit better here, we do so need education for the youths.
Jaheira, reaching for her scemetars: and you’d be paying for this? With all your…new money I suppose.
AA, baring fangs: money left to me by my predecessor, yes.
Tav, stepping between the two:- let’s just put an orphanage, library and park all together, please?
AA, deep breath: if that’s what my treasure desires, I won’t object.
Jaheira:I’ll agree, for your sake.
Tav: malicious compliance is the best I can ask from both of you :)
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soulessjourney · 3 months
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We Fallen Gods Chapter 1
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Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: Three years after the fall of the Elderbrain you and Astarion had finally settled down and made a life for yourselves. After about a year you made it your goal to venture out with Gale to locate the Daylight Ring to allow Astarion to finally have his life in the sun back. Now as you two live in the city, you working along Wyll as a politician and Astarion as a Tailor, your lives make a drastic change as an unexpected surprise flip your worlds upside down. 
Warnings: Language, Humor, Violence, Pregnancy, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Hurt no Comfort, OOC Astarion, Talk of Conceving
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Three years have passed since the city fell, and you devoted your days to tirelessly rebuilding it, only to return home to Astarion in the evening. It's been two years since you embarked on a journey with Gale, drawn by a story about the Daylight Ring granting vampires the ability to walk in daylight and be protected from the sun’s rays. Your life together has evolved into a comfortable routine. Astarion manages a tailor shop, bringing the city the finest wears, while you delve deeper into politics, working alongside Wyll to govern Baldur’s Gate and aid in its recovery post-battle. Shadowheart resides just outside the city in a small cabin with Owlbear, whom she adopted at your reunion celebration. She works to assist those who strayed from Shar and face exile.
Lae’zel has had minimal conflict with you and Astarion, particularly after abruptly leaving your group following the battle. All you are aware of is her travels, dealing with politics. Gale rejected the idea of becoming a god after your persuasion, and he now runs a school in Waterdeep, training wizards to excel. Halsin and Jaheira returned to Emerald Grove, contributing to the rebuilding efforts and the restoration of the Blighted Village. You frequently hear from them as Wyll sends you to check on their progress and discuss potential partnerships once the area is rebuilt.
There is one person you dearly miss, a sister figure – Karlach. The memory of her being pulled back to Avernus haunts your dreams, often leading to Astarion holding you tightly to calm your sobs upon waking. You vividly remember him standing behind you as you pleaded with Withers to bring her back. Since that day, you haven't been entirely the same, as that moment left a gaping hole in your chest. Karlach supported you in ways you couldn't explain, understanding the struggle of being seen as a monster. She held your hand, looked you in the eye, and promised to save you. Karlach made a significant impact on your life, and Astarion, being well aware, never pressed the situation – something for which you are thankful.
After much persuasion, you and Astarion finally adopted Scratch. Now, the furry companion lay curled up on the ground beside you while you leaned against Astarion. He read a passage from his book, absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair, brushing against your scalp. Your hands, in turn, found solace in Scratch's white fur. The day had been exhausting with back-to-back meetings and paperwork, leaving you feeling as if you were drowning. It wasn't Wyll's fault; the city had crumbled during your battle with the Elderbrain, necessitating the establishment of order once more. Despite life seemingly returning to normal, there lingered a dark corner within you, itching to claw its way out. Sometimes, during meetings, the Urge would beckon you, urging harm, and the taste of blood in your mouth served as a stark reminder that the darkness from your father never truly vanished. A part of you would always belong to him, and your body would perpetually yearn to witness life leaving someone's eyes.
Your reverie was interrupted when Astarion pulled his hand away from your head, looking down at you. "What's troubling you, Darling?" he asked, his hand gently resting against the side of your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. His eyes held an abundance of love, causing you to melt in his embrace. Astarion was acutely aware of your fears related to your father and the recurring urges. He sensed them returning, as if your past was attempting to pull you back. "Are you thinking about the urges again?" he inquired, hitting the mark, though that wasn't the sole concern on your mind. The topic of children was another matter, a discussion reserved for the moments before bedtime when you both nestled on the couch. You harbored a deep-seated fear of what you might pass on to your offspring, hence your insistence on delaying such plans.
Nodding, you tucked your legs under you, meeting his gaze. "I was, but I'm okay now. Don't worry; I don't feel like standing over you, planning to kill you, while you're in your trance," you teased, leaning up to press your lips against his.
He chuckled against your lips, leaning back to study you. "Tell me about your day, my love. You've been so busy; we haven't had time to discuss our days like usual," he hummed, grabbing your hand to lead you towards the bed. Scratch followed closely as you both settled into your usual spots, with you curled into Astarion and his arm wrapped around you. At the foot of the bed, Scratch settled into his spot, contentedly chewing on the bone Astarion had gifted him earlier that evening.
Humming, you reflect on your day before your eyes light up slightly. "I spoke to Halsin today; it was really nice to see him after some time. The village is starting to gain residents again. They just had a family of Tieflings move into one of the buildings; they're tailors, so they'll bring more business to the village. The Grove is back under his command too, so he's trying to find a way for us to send some military healers to train under him," you say, playing with Astarion's fingers gently. "Oh, and Owlbear is doing great," you continue, catching Scratch's attention. Since Owlbear no longer lived with both of you, he had been a bit lonely, but you have yet to convince Astarion to get him a friend. "Shadowheart stopped by to discuss matters with Wyll pertaining to the followers of Shar. You should've seen how massive she is." Astarion nods along with your words, a large smile on his face as you continue to fill him in about your day.
Astarion adores just how peaceful you look when you talk about your day. You have been working nonstop since you returned to the city with the ring to gift him the freedom to venture outside during the day. There were times when he worried you would work yourself to death, but the worry always tends to melt away when he sees how content and accomplished you look when you manage to form an alliance. This, in his opinion, is the perfect life. Having you in his arms, and the dog taking up any sort of foot space on the bed. Although he has brought up the idea of kids with you on multiple occasions, he would be just as content in this life that he has with you now.
His eyes lock with yours once more, and your sentences begin to trail off just before you reach up, pressing your lips against his. The air shifts between the both of you, the need for one another, the need to feel each other's touch filling your very being. Just as Astarion flips you over onto your back, Scratch lets out an annoyed growl before jumping off the bed and moving out of the room. A giggle sounds from you as he trails his fingers over your sides, causing you both to roll off the bed and onto the ground with a thud. Cradling your head, Astarion presses his lips to yours, pulling you into a night of bliss and passion.
----
As the sunlight filters through the crack in the curtains and bathes your face, you squint before opening your eyes. You find yourself face to face with a fluffy white presence on the floor. Smiling, you glance over your shoulder, noticing the vacant space in your bed. Astarion typically rose before you, but he usually waited for you in bed. Sitting up, the blankets slip from your exposed body and pool beside you. Standing, you walk toward the wardrobe, grabbing the robe hanging on the inside of the door. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you twist your hair into a bun before leaving the room.
The city-provided home you shared with Astarion was more extensive than initially necessary. Despite your efforts to fill the space, it often felt insufficient. This led to occasional thoughts about having children, though fear always quelled such considerations. Approaching the stairs, muffled voices fill the air. Astarion occasionally invited clients over to address clothing issues, but as you neared, you recognized the speaker: Wyll. What was he doing here so early in the morning?
"I won't let her go and do your bidding, Wyll. I don't care if it's her job, but what you're asking is for her to embark on a suicide mission. We're finally enjoying a comfortable life together where I don't have to worry incessantly about losing her to a tadpole or the urge. Well, that's a lie; it's clawing at her, and I refuse to have her away from me. If, for whatever reason, she gives in and reverts to the state she was in when we were all together. Besides, does she even know our friend here is alive and well?" Fear tinged Astarion's voice as he spoke. Although some interpreted his tone as anger, you knew him better. Whatever Wyll wished of you had him terrified.
Your hand on the door, you freeze at the sound of a voice speaking up—one you've been praying to hear since that fateful day. "No, she doesn't know yet, fangs. I've been trying to figure out how to just reappear in her life. I just didn't expect it to take a year." Hearing those words, your eyes well up with tears. You throw the door open to Astarion's private study, causing it to slam against the wall. The three occupants in the room turn their attention to you, and only one person stands the moment they catch sight of you: Karlach.
"You're alive?" Those were the only words that came to your mind. In that moment, it felt like a surreal vision or an unsettling manifestation of the Urge. She was supposed to be gone, taken back to Avernus, and while you knew she wasn't technically dead, you understood the grim reality of her existence there. It was as if you had forgotten how to breathe or move. A whole year had passed, and only now did you have the chance to see her. Part of you was enraged that she hadn't appeared sooner, but another part acknowledged her fear of your reaction.
Frozen in place, you watched as she moved toward you, finally enveloping you in a tight hug. "Hey there, soldier, I missed you," she whispered, wrapping her arms securely around your trembling form. It was only then that you realized tears were streaming down your face. "Hey now, no crying. Remember what I said about tears," she murmured, wiping them away with a gentle smile. Now you understood why Wyll had insisted on staying in certain wings at the fortress; he was waiting until Karlach felt ready to see you again.
Pulling away from the embrace, tension lingered in the room. Glancing over her shoulder, you noticed Astarion and Wyll glaring at each other, engaged in a silent battle. Wiping your cheeks, you looked around and sniffled, catching Astarion's attention. "Excuse me. If I had known we were going to have guests, I would have dressed appropriately. Give me a second to change, and then we can discuss what matter has you both on edge," you said, glancing between the two men. Turning on your heel to make your way back to the room to change, you added, "And Karlach, it's good to have you back."
---
It didn't take long for you to change into more appropriate attire. Sitting next to Karlach, you faced the two tense men in front of you. "So, care to tell me what caused the argument between you two? It must be something significant, considering Astarion looked like he was about to blow a fuse when I walked in earlier." Astarion shifted slightly, turning away from Wyll, his body radiating anger. His tense demeanor confirmed his suspicions: Wyll was indeed about to present you with a suicide mission.
Wyll glanced at Karlach, who nodded reassuringly before gently taking your hand. "There have been sightings of Gortash and Orin in the Underdark. Some claim to have spotted them at one of the temples, but that's not why I'm here. It's more about their followers," he explained, searching your face for any reaction. The mention of Orin made sense, as her return would explain the resurgence of the urges clawing at you. But Gortash... he was supposed to be dead. You had witnessed the Elderbrain kill him before your very eyes.
Rubbing your hands on your knees, you cleared your throat. "But Gortash was dead. We all saw it happen," you said, locking eyes with him. "Forget Orin; I know I can take care of her again. I mean, I beat her in a duel. But how in the nine hells is Gortash still alive?" Astarion sensed the urgency in your question, the desperation rather than hope. Quickly standing, he moved to sit on the other side of you, rubbing small circles on your back, a gesture he knew brought you comfort.
Wyll nods along with your words, understanding your confusion. “I know, but considering Orin is back, I would have to say something else is at play here. Now, in terms of what angered Astarion, I need you and a few others to travel back to the Shadow-cursed lands. I’ve had scouts report something happening at Moonrise Towers. I know you prefer not to step foot in there again, especially after everything that happened, but you’re the only person I trust to get the job done,” he says, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
“You’re right. I don’t want to go back there, not after what I went through, especially when it came to the urges,” you start, keeping your eyes focused on the ground in front of you. Astarion lets out a sigh of relief just as you lift your head. “But I need to make sure Orin or Gortash can’t climb back up from whatever circle of hell they were in. If going back to Moonrise is how I can do that, then so be it,” you say, jumping slightly as Astarion quickly stands, throwing his hands in the air.
“It’s a suicide mission, Tav. How are you even supposed to get back into Moonrise? You know they’re going to be on the lookout for you, especially if Orin is back. She’s going to be out for blood, and I refuse to get word that I lost you simply because Wyll wanted to send you on that mission,” he growls, placing his hands on his hips as he paces the room.
Your eyes follow him before you let out a sigh. “Wyll knows the urges are back, meaning Bhaal is trying to claim me as his champion again. I went against Orin, and now that she’s back, I’m sure he was unable to find another champion and he’s desperate. They’re going to let me in because of who I was. Her followers fear me more than ever now, especially since I killed her in a duel. I killed her Star, I killed her without the Slayer form, and I can do it again,” you say, watching as Astarion’s shoulders drop in defeat.
“I’m sure Wyll is going to want me to infiltrate, meaning I’m just gathering information. That’s my job besides just going to meetings and doing paperwork. We have ways I can disguise myself, and I promise I’ll be careful, Star. The moment things seem like they’re going to go south, I’ll come back, and I’ll refuse any further missions having to do with Moonrise. If Gortash and Orin are truly back, it means we need to prep the city in case they decide to attack,” you murmur, grabbing his hands gently. “I promise.”
Astarion hesitates before nodding. Turning towards Wyll, you watch as he stands taller. “If anything happens to her, and I mean anything, I will drain you dry,” he spits, before turning on his heel to leave the room. Falling back onto the couch, you look toward the wall before turning your gaze back to Wyll.
“When do I leave, and who’s all coming?”
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princess-leaorgana · 10 days
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What Tieflings Do Chpt. 1
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Summary: After the takedown of The Absolute, Zelphie finds her city in need of more help and her home destroyed. She won't stop top help, but who can help her?
Rolan x Tav (Zelphie; ~30y.o AFAB, Sorcerer, Tiefling, not really described physically on purpose <3)
M/F
Author's Note: I fucking love tielfings. Along with this being a budding romance/smut/fluff/word vomit fanfiction, it's also my case study in DnD 5e tieflings, how they act, what sets them apart from humans and devils and elves. That being said, I have a few artist liberties in here as well where I couldn't find a straight answer, if you'll amuse me.
Mild trigger warnings - There will be smut in future chapters, but this chapter mentions injury and my hyperfixation on tieflings being carnivores. Also spoilers to the game! If you read my work and find anything else that puts you off, please tell me! <3
‘It seems as though the worst is not yet behind us,’ Jaheira said, sarcasm in her voice. Zelphie laughed at the half-elf and sighed.
‘But surely, we can be awarded a little relaxation until the morning,’ the tiefling suggested and Jaheira smirked.
‘Maybe you will relax, but I must go home, to my litter,’ she said and Zelphie chuckled.
‘Oh, I do wish I could help you with all of that,’ Zelphie responded sarcastically. Jaheira couldn’t hold back her laugh. Zelphie smiled at the older woman. She was always so self deprecating about her age, but Zelphie thought she was beautiful and always thought her so strong. To meet Jaheira, the hero of Baldur’s Gate, now twice so, was so exciting for Zelphie. She had grown up hearing stories of the Druid Jaheira, High Harper. Jaheira was everything Zelphie had been expecting and so much more. Zelphie was very happy to call her a companion, a neighbor in fact. The two looked at each other for a moment, the last two in Baldur’s Gate, well, for now. Shadowheart, Halsin, Lae’zel, Gale, Karlach and Wyll had all left. Jaheira, Zelphie and Astarion were left in Baldur’s Gate, the vampire had run off to the shadows, Jaheira and Zelphie remained. What did one say to a companion one had faced the end of the world with? 
‘I assume you have your own family to return to, little cub,’ Jaheira said and Zelphie smirked. Zelphie knew that Jaheira knew better than that. An adult tiefling in Baldur’s Gate, with a full family? Unheard of. The sorcerer had been on her own since she was a child. Not a lot of tieflings had the love of their parents. ‘You know where to find me, please keep close by, yes?’ She asked and Zelphie nodded and hugged Jaheira. Jaheira was so lithe, it was a wonder how she was so strong, Mother Nature was on her side. Jaheira hugged her tightly. ‘Careful with those,’ she said as she loosened the hug and pulled on Zelphie’s right horn. ‘And come find me when you have the strength to help us rebuild, we’ll need you.’
Zelphie headed out to the lower city, praying to any god that was paying attention to her that the small space she had been living in was still standing. The gods would not favor her, however. Her bungalow was dust amongst the streets of Baldur’s Gate. She was half expecting it. But where was she to go? She would kill to take a bath. To continue walking these streets, watching the dead being carted off, the rubble, confused children abandoned, it hurt Zelphie’s heart. There was no bath or bed for her, she would make some use of her time. On her way back to the Elfsong Tavern, she helped where she could. She made use of her volatile magic and helped push large chunks of rubble out of the way so the street could be a little clear for transportation once more. There was a lot to do everywhere, but the park near the lower city’s central wall was a hazard. Zelphie pushed herself to her limits, and twilight was making the work hard. She began her journey to the tavern, hoping for at least a roof to sleep under. 
‘Oi! Hero! I can’t believe you’re alive!’ A familiar voice called from the fountain in front of Sorcerer’s Sundries. Zelphie smiled and looked towards the voice. The tiefling population in Baldur’s Gate had grown tenfold since the scourge of The Absolute took hold. Zelphie couldn’t be happier about it. A lot of Baldurians weren’t very happy about them, not only were they refugees, sucking up precious resources, but tieflings had never had a great reputation. Hellspawn, Devil Bastards, Brighteyes, Gargoyles, a few of the many choice words Zelphie had been called in her lifetime. No one could look past their dark ancestry. Zelphie couldn’t tell a soul how far back her familial line went to the Archdevil Asmodeus, but that was all a stranger would see when they looked at her red skin, her glowing red eyes, or her long and sharp horns. How could she blame some people? What was worse than a devil? After these last few months, Zelphie would have to argue that there was nothing worse than a devil. But Baldur’s Gate would have to get used to being overrun by hellspawn, because they were certainly here to stay, and Zelphie was very happy to see this one in particular. Lia, a tiefling she had met at the Emerald Grove at the beginning of her adventure, was sitting on a pile of rubble outside of her brother’s new property, Sorcerer’s Sundries and the illustrious Ramazith’s Tower. She was waving her arm happily and Zelphie grinned and walked over to her friend.
‘Gods Lia! You’re alright! When I saw the state of the tower, I wasn’t so confident,’ she said happily as Lia lept from her seat. Lia hugged her friend tight, which was incredibly painful for poor sore Zelphie, but she hugged Lia back happily.
‘The outside of it is rather brutal, but from the inside, it’s as if nothing happened at all,’ she said cheerfully. ‘You look a little worse for wear though,’ she said and tilted her head and Zelphie sighed.
‘Please tell me I don’t look half bad for a girl who defeated an Elder Brain,’ Zelphie tried to sound positive. Worse for wear was quite a nice way of putting it. ‘I’m hoping there is one last bed in the tavern for me….my…my place wasn’t as lucky as the tower, I’m afraid.’ Lia frowned and shook her head.
‘Oh, Zelphie, I’m so sorry. I feel so guilty, watching all of these people lose their homes, I certainly know what that feels like. Come on inside, would you? Have a bath and something to eat. There’s a bed in there for you,’ she said and Zelphie frowned. Sleeping in a wizard’s tower was certainly much more preferable than an overcrowded tavern, but Lia and her siblings had just reunited. Zelphie did not want to push in as a beggar off of the street.
‘Lia, I couldn’t. The last thing you three need-’
‘Please shut up and come inside, gods dammit. After saving the city, maybe the whole world, you absolutely deserve to rest your head on a plush pillow,’ Lia interrupted, stubborn as Zelphie had ever heard her speak. Lia wore her emotions on her sleeves, she was bold and she was stubborn. Zelphie and her weren’t exactly close, but every argument she ever heard Lia participate in, she always won.
‘Fine, thank you, Lia. Thank you so much,’ she said and Lia walked her inside. The storefront of the building was as busy as it had been, but for a completely different reason. The normal store had turned itself into a place of healing, it seemed. Beds were brought in and tables were used as beds to comfort the needy. Zelphie walked past clerics healing the hurt and she looked at Lia. ‘Give three orphaned refugees a little land and see what they do with it,’ she said and Lia beamed proudly. ‘Once I’m cleaned up, I’m sure I can be put to good use down here, whatever is needed,’ she said and Lia laughed.
‘You’re fucking ridiculous, Zelphie,’ she said and snorted, leading Zelphie upstairs. ‘You’re bruised, tattered, your brain is full of holes, you are part of the group of people who get to rest.’ Zelphie sighed at that. She was dirty, she was starving, she was exhausted. Still, life went on around her, how could she sleep and rest when there was so much to be done? ‘If you even try to lift a finger for the next twelve hours, I’ll break your legs,’ she said, her tail swaying playfully. Zelphie couldn’t help but laugh at that a little. She followed Lia up another flight of stairs to a portal. Zelphie recognized this portal, she had gone through it before. ‘Rolan changed this to only allow family inside. With the given exception to the person who saved his hide. Three times.’ Lia said and Zelphie looked at her. Rolan has made an exception for her? Surely that also included the rest of her companions, not just her. Although Zelphie was a bit biased towards the tieflings they had met on the road, she wasn’t the only one to defeat the goblin camp, to free those imprisoned at Moonrise or to put a final stop to Lorroakan’s madness.
The pair stepped through the portal, and Zelphie was once more transported to a strange level of the tower. The floors below could be seen from where she was standing, and it gave her nerves an unsettling feeling as she remembered that day. But the ‘foyer’ was much different from when she last saw it. Less clutter, every book and object clearly visible for browsing. Lorroakan had been a hoarder of knowledge, not a lover of it. Clearly Rolan was good on his word, books and scrolls and tomes were neat and tidy. There were considerably less of them, as well. No more throne of books either. Items were on full open display instead of being trapped behind locked screens. Lia led Zelphie to a small hallway and up more stairs. Three flights up, Lia finally walked through and Zelphie was terribly relieved. She was exhausted. Her arms, her legs, her tail, even her horns ached. She imagined her promise to help downstairs would not pull through. She was ready to pass out on the next flat surface she saw.
 ‘Alright, let’s see if I remember this…if I get it on the first go, you tell Rolan how talented I am,’ she said and Zelphie smirked. They stood in front of a normal brick wall. Nothing fancy about it at all.
‘As if he’d believe anything out of my mouth,’ Zelphie said and Lia laughed. The other woman looked like she would respond, but turned to a wall and knocked on it with her knuckles.
‘Epoolso,’ Lia incanted and Zelphie smiled. Lia’s brother, Rolan, was the new master of Ramazith’s Tower, he was a wizard, and like most wizards, was very eager to not only learn, but teach. Lia was not a wizard, but it was clear that Rolan was trying to teach his sister a few tricks. Her incantation wasn’t correct. Lia sighed and attempted again. Nothing, just a brick wall. ‘Well, there goes my chance at impressing a hero then,’ she muttered, crossing her arms. ‘I’ll go find Rolan,’ she said and Zelphie shook her head.
‘No, don’t bother him, I can do it. The Weave and I go way back,’ she teased and Lia smirked. Zelphie lifted her hand to the wall, giving the brick a sharp knock. ‘Pulso,’ she said quickly, and a blue light materialized around the wall in the shape of a door. Lia sighed.
‘Damned wizards always make everything look so easy,’ she said, opening the door and Zelphie laughed.
‘Do NOT call me a wizard in front of Rolan, his head will pop off,’ she said and Lia laughed.
‘Don’t tempt me,’ she said and led Zelphie through the door. Inside was a little room, a bed, a wardrobe, a desk and a small wooden bath. It wasn’t much unlike Zelphie’s actual home. It was just missing the fireplace. ‘I want to catch up with you later, but I’m sure you’re dying to scrape the illithid off of you. You probably haven't eaten yet, I’ll be back with some dinner, but relax, take a hot bath. I’ll be back in a little while, alright?’ She said and Zelphie smiled and nodded.
‘Thank you so much Lia, this is wonderful,’ she said and Lia smiled, leaving Zelphie alone to her thoughts. Zelphie turned on the taps the second the door shut and for the first time in hours, sat down on the floor. She wouldn’t put her dirty clothing on the bed. She began removing her boots. She was almost ashamed of the state of her body. Before the damned kidnapping she was never seen to have a hair out of line. Seeing her skin, smelling it, feeling it, she was going to need more than a hot bath to fix herself up. Dirt, grime, blood, viscera, bruising, cuts, all of it covered her body. She was so aware of it as her bath was running. She removed her robe next, wishing she had more than her lounge clothing to wear, as her robe deserved a proper fire burial. She peeled her pants and wrap shirt off. All the clothing became a puddle on the floor. She poked through the drawers of the wardrobe to find washcloths. She began to scrub at her skin with just water as the bath began to rise. She would make that bath a soup if she got into it now.
Once the bath was full and she had used up three cloths, she got into the tub and sighed out loudly. That might have been exactly what she needed. She would be very happy to soak her skin off here. She allowed the parts of her she couldn’t reach before to soak, dunking her head, hair and horns in the water. They were very sore, her horns. Having sore horns was a newer experience for her, but it was over now, it had to be over. The residual clean-up of the city aside, she could live as she normally did. No fear of ceremorphosis, no fear of Baahlists, doppelgangers, not even goblins. Her biggest worry now was finding a place to rest her head in the future. May Lia, Cal, and Rolan be blessed for giving her refuge for the night, she thought. Her fingers and tail played with the water a little until it became much too cloudy for her liking. She stood, giving herself one last go with a washcloth and stepped out. Now, she would be allowed to preen herself. Lotion her body, file her nails and oil her horns. Being able to take time to do this routine of hers was impossible these last months. If her preening tools had been worth any gold, they would have been sold ages ago, with most of her other possessions. Every moment awake was a moment to take advantage of. To do, to go further, to save their skins. There was a knock on the door and she quickly pulled a tunic over herself for quick cover. She walked over to the door and smiled, seeing Lia once more. The tiefling’s red eyes lit up seeing her.
‘I have never seen your skin so glowing before,’ Lia said and grinned, looking around the room a bit. ‘Oh, let me take those to the wash,’ she said, pointing at a pile in the corner of a towel, cloths and Zelphie’s clothing. Zelphie grimaced and walked over to the pile.
‘You should probably just burn them,’ she said and Lia laughed. Zelphie scooped it all in the dirty towel, which was the cleanest article and Lia took it easily.
‘I was going to bring you dinner, but me, Cal and Rolan would like you to join us. Well, Call and I want to catch up, we have so many questions, but I think Rolan just wants to show off what he’s done to the place,’ she said and Zelphie smiled.
‘Alright, let me just…’ she said and rifled through her bag, finding thick stockings to cover her legs. She followed Lia out of the room, taking a quick stop at a washing room to dump Zelphie’s soiled clothing. ‘So, the infirmary downstairs, I assume you all need help. I can help. After dinner, please put me to good use,’ she said and Lia smirked.
‘You will rest after dinner, I told you. We want to catch up. You can take a break from being the hero for one night, please. Let someone else take care of you,’ Lia said, repeating herself from earlier. ‘Besides, I’m sure you’re useless while you're so tired,’ she nudged Zelphie, who smiled. She still felt guilty, of course. She felt guilty because she did want to relax, but her heartstrings pulled as she was reminded of the chaos down on the streets. The chaos she caused. She did not argue, she hoped she would be right as rain in the morning. Then she would be able to help. Lia led her to a dining room, which was almost untasteful how ornate it was. Clearly Lorroakan’s taste still lingered in the tower. The table was very small, an assumed upgrade from the new master and his siblings. Cal and Rolan were sitting at the table, but stood when Zelphie and Lia appeared. Cal happily walked right over for a hug.
‘Oh Cal! It’s wonderful to see you in more comfortable clothing,’ Zelphie said. The ranger was clearly in need of a relax, his normal leather armor gone, a white shirt and relaxed pants it was instead. He looked like a normal person.
‘Look at you though! I didn’t know how small you were under those robes,’ he said with a happy chuckle letting her go.
‘I’m so glad you and Lia were able to get here safely, where you belong,’ she said as Rolan walked over to greet her as well.
‘Don’t give Rolan all of the credit for that, mate. He told us exactly who bumped us up on the guest list,’ Cal said and pressed a finger to his own nose playfully. Zelphie laughed and looked at Rolan. Imposing as always, in his robes, but as master of the wizard’s tower of Baldur’s Gate, it only made sense. He always had a sense of imposing about him, but right now, after everything, Rolan’s confidence was well measured. A hero of Baldur’s Gate he was.
‘Hello Rolan,’ Zelphie said and held out her arms to hug him as well. Rolan smirked and followed her lead. The hug wasn’t as warm, but about two months ago, Rolan was cussing out Zelphie for merely existing around him. She was very happy for a curt hug.
‘Hello Zelphie, I’m so glad to see you safe,’ he said honestly and Zelphie smiled.
‘Safe because of the quick learning of the new master of Ramazith’s Tower, I promise you. You’ll have to show me those cannons one day. Of course I assumed they would be powerful, but it was unbelievable the amount of damage they did to a red dragon, of all things,’ she said and Rolan’s red cheeks deepened.
‘I would be very proud to do so,’ he said and nodded to the table. The siblings and Zelphie made their way to the table and Zelphie sighed with joy. Tieflings, though very similar to humans in look and biology, had a lot of quirks. One such quirk was their diet. Zelphie did travel with Karlach, another tiefling who had a huge appetite, but her decade in the hells gave her different tastes. Zelphie swore she watched her friend eat actual dirt when it came to it. Otherwise, her companions ate like rabbits. Tieflings were carnivorous by nature, and to finally dine with a group made exclusively of Tieflings, she was very happy to see food that finally suited her diet. ‘I hope the food is to our hero’s tastes,’ Rolan said in response to her little gasp. Zelphie grinned and looked up at her hosts.
‘I’ll complain about the tadpoles and the Baahlists and the goblins and all of that until I die, but only to you three can I complain about Gale’s cooking,’ she said and the other three laughed. ‘You spend months and months with two Druids and tell me how you survive,’ she said and sighed, scooping up cooked marrow for her bowl.
‘Well, we did live in that grove for a while, I think we can understand your pain,’ Lia remarked and took a bite of her food. ‘You did have that vampire though, I’m sure he was helpful,’ she said and smirked. ‘In more ways than one, I’d like to think,’ she added and Zelphie snorted.
‘Yes, he was very giving when it came to his hunts, always very generous with the blood he caught,’ she said sarcastically and Cal looked at her. The truth was the opposite. Although a tiefling could live off of blood like a vampire, vampires had an insatiable hunger for it. Astarion did not like to share his kills.
‘Did he ever…bite any of you?’ Cal asked and Zelphie looked at him.
‘Oh yes, I trained him well. Always just enough to make him happy.’ Cal went deep red in the neck and Lia smiled at her brother.
‘Does it hurt?’ He asked curiously and Zelphie was about to answer but Rolan jumped in.
‘You let that vampire bite you?’ He asked her and she nodded.
‘Yes…honestly…at the time, we had all just landed from the kidnapping and I was desperate. I know it sounds delusional, but I was very happy to have a vampire fighting alongside me. I would do anything to make him more powerful,’ she said and shrugged. Rolan raised an eyebrow at her. There was the judgment in his face she was more used to. ‘If you think that sounds stupid, I’d love to tell you the truth about Gale,’ she said with a laugh and took a bite of dinner and sighed happily.
‘Gale, the wizard? Oh you can tell me whatever you’d like about him,’ Lia said and sighed.
‘Lia, please behave,’ Rolan said and Zelphie giggled.
‘I know you three had your own dangers, I used to wish you would join us, but I’m now thinking how productive we would have been if you had,’ Zelphie said with a smirk. That would have been fun, watching Cal shyly flirt with Astarion and Lia boldly flirt with Gale. Gale wouldn’t have a clue what hit him.
‘Probably not very. I wish we would have been more help, but Rolan insisted without our own tadpoles, we might have held you back,’ Cal said and Zelphie shrugged.
‘In some instances, Rolan’s correct. Halsin and Jaheira could not come to Moonrise Towers without alerting suspicion. Although, that might have to do with them knowing Ketheric to begin with,’ she said and looked at Rolan, who was just looking back at her. ‘If it weren’t for the chance that we were tadpoled, we wouldn’t have been able to save you two or Danis or Lakrissa,’ she said, speaking to Lia and Cal, but still looking at Rolan. He had been so frustrated that he had failed trying to save his sister and brother, where Zelphie had succeeded. But he had to know, without her gods damned tadpole, she would have failed as well.
‘May the tadpole be blessed,’ Lia said and Zelphie looked at her with a smile. ‘But…do you still have it?’ She asked and Zelphie shook her head.
‘No, it was part of the last command to the elder brain, destroy all illithids, destroy self. Halsin was able to confirm they were gone,’ she explained and smiled. ‘Which is lovely for many reasons, but more so because my powers are back to what they were before the tadpole. Which means I can help downstairs and in the city. What do you need?’ She asked and Lia frowned.
‘Zelphie, we want you to relax,’ she insisted, but once more, Rolan spoke quickly. 
‘What would your talents be able to help with?’ He asked and Zelphie smiled.
‘A few things. I can cauterize and heal superficial wounds, though I’m sure you’ve caught most of those. And I have very powerful mending talents. Broken legs, broken anything. Even with the tower or store itself. My mage hand as well,’ she said and lifted her right hand, a blue one easily flowing out of it. It flew over to an end table in the corner of the large room and lifted it gently. ‘It’s very strong, please tell me what I can do,’ she said and Rolan watched her carefully.
‘We could really use it, thank you,’ he told her and Zelphie smiled. ‘I’ll meet you in the morning, we'll go over a plan,’ he said and Zelphie nodded, very happy to be of use. Zelphie’s tail lifted and swished slowly and happily, content that she wouldn’t just take advantage of her friend’s hospitality. She knew Rolan would be logical about this.
‘Rolan, we talked about this, we can’t ask the hero of Baldur’s Gate to do-‘ Cal began and Rolan’s eye contact with Zelphie shifted to his brother. He held up a hand and shook his head.
‘You are right, we can’t, but we won’t refuse her request, either,’ he insisted. ‘Whatever she wants, she’ll have,’ he finished and Lia chuckled and took a bite of her dinner. Rolan went a little red and shot his sister with an annoyed look.
‘So, how has it been here? I imagine you three haven’t even found every nook and cranny this tower has to offer,’ Zelphie asked to move the subject away.
‘Cal went through a strange portal and was lost for three hours,’ Lia said and Cal laughed.
‘Yeah, but if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have found those scrolls Rolan needed for the cannons, I say well worth the struggle,’ he said, still laughing.
‘Yes, and you managed to piss if that djinni, which makes that part of the tower impossible to traverse through, you have my thanks, muttonhead,’ Rolan said and Zelphie giggled.
‘A djinni? Hopefully you didn’t free him,’ she said and Lia laughed.
‘Free? I’m not entirely sure, but he is long gone.’ Zelphie gasped, knowing that absolutely meant the djinni was free and causing havoc somewhere.
‘Another reason I regret allowing either of you to live here, I’m hoping a talented sorceress will prove to be much more careful as a housemate,’ Rolan said and Zelphie felt her tail swish a little more enthusiastically. Well, that felt nice, another little compliment from Rolan.
‘Thank you again, for letting me stay here for the night. I hate to be a pest, once I’m settled again, I’ll be out of your hair and find a way to pay you,’ Zelphie assured and Cal snorted.
‘Pay us? Come on Zelphie, this is our way of repaying you! How many times did she save our skins? Never mind the whole world saving bit, you’ve saved me Lia and Rolan personally more times than we deserve. Please, letting you sleep in that little room is the least we can do,’ he insisted and Rolan looked at Lia.
‘Little room? Where did you put Zelphie?’ He asked his sister.
‘One of the guest rooms on the second floor, I wasn’t sure where you would be comfortable,’ she answered and shrugged. Rolan shook his head and lifted a glass of wine.
‘No, we’ll have you move up to our floor. You’ll love it, the scenes from the balconies are beautiful. Well, they will be once the destruction is taken care of, of course.’ Rolan sipped his wine and Zelphie went a bit red.
‘I’m fine in the little room, besides, it’s just the one night, no need to fuss,’ she said and Lia looked at her.
‘What do you mean one night? Where are you off to? Aren’t you from Baldur’s Gate?’ She asked and Zelphie shrugged.
‘I can’t stay here forever, surely there is a place for me somewhere. Maybe near Cloakwood,’ she said and shrugged.
‘Your place is here,’ Rolan insisted. ‘Unless you are uncomfortable here, of course,’ he added quickly and Lia nodded, reaching over the table for Zelphie’s hand.
‘Please stay with us,’ she said softly.
That was that. Ramazith’s Tower of Baldur’s Gate was now owned by the tieflings. Zelphie would earn her place with the siblings and they would insist she didn’t need to. She already had and they were happy to have her. She listened to the three bicker and tease each other for the rest of dinner and once the food was happily finished, Rolan asked for a moment alone with Zelphie. He led her to a sitting area and was very earnest in his speech. Zelphie sat next to him on a large red sofa and he poured them more wine.
‘I wanted to thank you, personally. This isn’t easy for me to do, so I will apologize early on if I’m…clunky,’ he said and lifted his glass of sweet wine to his lips. Zelphie sipped her wine along with him, her head already a little spinny from dinner. Good food and quality wine was exactly what she needed.
‘Just you not being angry with me is thanks enough,’ she said, playful in her tone. Rolan hummed happily and shook his head.
‘I guess we can both say confidently which one of us deals with stress better,’ he said and smirked into his wine glass. ‘I will also apologize for my previous behavior. I really hope I can make that up to you. I can’t imagine why you would still consider myself worthy of your friendship,’ he said and nodded.
‘Please don’t apologize, Rolan. If I had siblings or any family out there, I’m sure I would have acted the same as you,’ she said and placed her hand on his. He looked down at her hand and then her face and placed his goblet down on a table in front of the sofa.
‘You don’t have any family?’ He asked her honestly and she shook her head.
‘No, I don’t even really remember what happened to them. I was around five, I went to bed one night and woke up in a hostel. All the woman who owned the place said to me was that my parents were gone. It hurt, but I don’t think a lot of our kind can’t empathize with that story,’ she told him honestly and she watched him chew on his bottom lip. ‘But it made me who I am today. I’m lucky I was born with magic in my veins. I might not have survived otherwise, it sounds a little backwards but I’ve always considered myself very lucky.’ Rolan’s yellow eyes read her face for a moment and placed his hands on his knees, preparing himself for something.
‘Could I trust you with something?’ He asked her, his voice a little softer than normal. Zelphie tilted her head, but nodded.
‘Of course Rolan,’ she told him and he sighed out.
‘No one knows this, besides Cal and Lia, of course but…’ he reached for his goblet and faltered. He placed his reaching hand back to his knee. ‘You and I share a similar story, I-uhm,’ he started, but Zelphie would not interrupt him. She wasn’t exactly sure where this was going. Had their parents also been lost? Murdered? Kidnapped? ‘My whole family…they were rounded up when I was ten years old. I ran and hid in a closet, my mother told me to hide. Like you, I still don’t know what happened. I uhm…I met Cal and Lia’s mother soon after that,’ he began and Zelphie’s brows furrowed.
‘You…met…?’ She asked and Rolan looked at her and he nodded.
‘Lia and Cal aren’t really my siblings. My true siblings are dead,’ he said plainly, but there was a quiver in his throat. ‘But their mother took me in…they are all I have, they were so easy to call me their big brother when we were children, I just…we never let that go,’ he said and Zelphie’s heart broke. She couldn’t help it. Even though this tragedy had happened to Rolan maybe two decades ago, she reached over and hugged him. He hugged her back and she felt his tail curl around her waist.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said softly and he shook his head but did not let her go.
‘No, I’m sorry for you, you didn’t get a Cal or Lia. I’m the lucky one here, my dear,’ he told her softly. ‘Which…for many many reasons is why I’d like you to stay,’ he said and the hug ended. Zelphie sighed at him and tilted her head. ‘You need family. We tieflings are strong, but together we are stronger. We work better as a community. Besides the fact that without you the three of us would have died four or five times over, you deserve a family as well, Zelphie. Please, let us give you that,’ he said with such earnestness that Zelphie felt her nose twinge. That was very kind of Rolan. Zelphie had always adored the three siblings, she was always jealous of their relationship and wanted more than anything for them to be together and happy. How could she turn down such a sweet offer? ‘Please, Cal and Lia mean the world to me. If anything had happened to them at Moonrise, I wouldn’t be here. I owe their lives to you. And if you did not save me, make me see what kind of master Lorroakan was, Cal and Lia wouldn’t be here with me where they belong. I would still be being assaulted by a mad man. I could never, even if I lived a million years, I could never repay you for what you’ve done for my family and me.’
‘Rolan…’ Zelphie spoke softly, and Rolan kept his eye contact with her. She felt her eyes sting and she shut them.
‘Might I ask you what you’re thinking?’ Rolan asked her. She felt his hands in hers. She opened her eyes and looked at him once more. What a difference a few life changing events could make. One their first meeting, Rolan was obnoxious and annoyed at Zelphie. Their next few meetings Rolan would have leveled her. Now? Now she would consider him a very close friend.
‘I’m thinking too much, as I usually do,’ she said with a sad little smile.
‘Would you be unhappy here?’ He asked her and she shook her head quickly.
‘No, no no, it’s not that, not at all. No, I adore the three of you. I’m honored you would have me,’ she said and Rolan’s neck went a little red. She felt his tail twitch next to her on the sofa and he moved it away from her slowly.
‘Do you feel guilty?’ He asked her and she nodded. He chuckled and shook his head. ‘Well, that proves it right there you are an only child and orphan,’ he said and reached over for his goblet once more. He took a sip of wine and Zelphie mirrored him. Her mind was spinning. The wine, the food and the new opportunity, it was all a little much for her. That and the war she had just won hours ago. After a long drink Rolan looked back at her. ‘Maybe you will feel more…persuaded if I show you your new lodgings,’ he said and stood up, holding his hand out for her. Zelphie took another little sip and took his hand. She was helped up with a little swaying.
‘I think if I’m upgraded, I might feel more guilty,’ she said and he chuckled.
‘Don’t, for you will have restless nights hearing Lia yelling at me, or listening to me practice my incantations,’ he said and she giggled.
‘Still more calm than camp. You know what calms a githyanki to sleep at night?’ She asked Rolan as he led her from the sitting room. He looked down at her and shook his head. ‘Sword sharpening. Hours and hours of sword sharpening,’ she said and Rolan laughed, looking ahead.
‘Not too many of those here, I’m afraid. There were a lot of weapons tucked away, but I had them given to the Flaming Fist for the battle. What need did we have for them?’ He said and Zelphie just smiled up at him. He glanced down at her, a little proud of himself. He knew Zelphie and her selflessness would have liked to hear that. He smiled at her smile, his blush never fading his already reddened skin. 
‘We saw those weapons, Gale and I, when we were last here. Those were very mighty pieces, that was a wise decision,’ she told him and his smile faltered.
‘Oh, well, if I’ve impressed the Gale of Waterdeep, then I’m very happy,’ he said, poison on his lips and Zelphie frowned, but she kept her mouth shut. That was certainly a quick change of attitude. ‘Very kind of a well-off man to just leave his closest companion in the dust the second everything ended,’ he said and Zelphie’s brows stitched together.
‘Rolan, he needed to go back home. He has family in Waterdeep,’ she said and Rolan huffed.
‘And he left you behind, to live in a bungalow at best,’ he said and Zelphie stopped following him.
‘You shouldn’t speak ill of him. He took quite the liking to you, Rolan. If you are jealous of his relationship with Mystra, I can assure you-‘
‘Mystra? Jealous of him and Mystra? No, no, I’m angry at the way he threw you away like yesterday’s newspaper.’ He said, holding his hands behind his back. Zelphie’s tail began to whip back and forth. She would absolutely not tolerate anyone speaking ill of Gale Dekarios, even Rolan.
‘Threw me away? He, like everyone else, went back to their lives. He doesn’t owe me anything, certainly not more than Shadowheart or Lae’zel or Wyll or any of them. What are you talking about Rolan, why are you so upset with him?’ She asked, very confused, but angry at anyone who would put Gale Dekarios in a bad light. Rolan’s eyes narrowed and he blinked for a moment.
‘Weren’t the two of you…?’ He asked and Zelphie’s face twisted for a second. She then buckled over with laughter. Rolan had, for some reason, assumed Zelphie and Gale had an intimate relationship. Gale Dekarios was very handsome, charismatic and powerful, but no. Zelphie had only felt friendship and fondness for the wizard, not love, not that kind of love.
‘You thought Gale and I were an item?’ She asked and kept laughing. ‘Oghma’s left eye, no, no, no, definitely not,’ she said and grinned at Rolan who did not look very amused. He looked down at the floor. ‘Why would you have thought that?’
‘There were a few nights when we all stayed at the inn…I could have sworn…’ he said and bit his lip and Zelphie calmed down and nodded. She knew what he must have misunderstood.
‘At Last Light Inn? No, halfway through our adventure, Gale was given…some divine directive. From Mystra, and those nights where, yes, I’d go to him to comfort him were just that. He was battling a lot of inner demons and I was just being a friend, nothing more. So please Rolan, don’t go to battle with someone you should respect and admire as a colleague. He’s a good one for you to have,’ she said and placed a hand on Rolan’s arm. ‘Not on my account, anyway.’
‘I’m sorry, I should have asked you,’ he said and Zelphie shook her head.
‘It’s nice for someone to defend me,’ she told him and he smiled a little. ‘And it proves my point that I have tried to prove to Gale a thousand times,’ she said and her and Rolan kept walking.
‘Yes?’
‘Wizards are very fucking stubborn,’ she said and he snorted. They walked a little in silence, Rolan was feeling a touch embarrassed. Zelphie wouldn’t harp on it. She would send a sending spell to Gale to reach out to Rolan. She would have them fast friends in a jiffy.
‘Down here are Cal and Lia’s rooms,’ he said, pointing to a west wing. It was common knowledge that wizard’s towers were massive. Melphie still could not believe she was in the same building. She knew she would be getting lost. ‘My bedroom is right here, should you ever have need of me. Though, I will warn you, I’m not usually there. We’ll have a proper tour tomorrow before we all head downstairs. I’ll show you my normal hiding places,’ he told her and she nodded. ‘And I think you will do nicely just across the hall here,’ he told her, walking to a door down the hall to the right of his own room. He opened the door for her and she couldn’t help the little gasp that came from her mouth. 
The room was very large. It had a high ceiling and a balcony. Two large bookshelves covered the western wall, a canopied bed with royal blue blankets and pillows right across from them. There was a door connecting to a large washroom. Desk, a vanity and a wardrobe adorned the room as well. 
‘If there is anything you’d like to change, please feel free. I’ll be changing a lot of the comforts around here in the coming months. Please, this is your home now, make it yours in whatever way you please.’ Zelphie looked up at Rolan and beamed. He smiled down at her and nodded his head.
‘Rolan, I’m at a loss for words, this is beautiful. It’s more than I’ve ever had,’ she told him and he looked at her for a moment and nodded again. His tail swayed happily, very content with the compliment.
‘You deserve more,’ he told her firmly, sweetly. Zelphie smiled and looked down. She stepped closer to him and for the third time that evening, she hugged him tight. He hugged her back, resting his chin on her temple, their horns clinking together lightly. Zelphie felt a light moan escape from her lips at the tender feeling of her sore horns. She would not sleep easily tonight. Rolan looked down at her, worried at that sound. Goodness was his face close. ‘Sorry, they are very sore,’ she whispered and he nodded and he looked up at her horns, inspecting them.
‘Please tell me you weren’t head butting illithids,’ he said and let her go, reaching up to her horns to inspect them.
‘A girl had to do what she had to do…’ she said, but it wasn’t the truth. A tieflings horns were imposing, but not exactly strong enough to do battle like a devil or demon. Zelphie did have very large horns, so the pain she felt was from them being caught or pulled. She had been thrown around by enemies who got close enough to her. Rolan raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. ‘Truth being, they were usually used against me,’ she said and he sighed, nodding. No tiefling living could say they were never at least bullied with a horn push or pull. He still pressed a finger to the crown of her left horn, rubbing up lightly. It hurt a little, but a purr was brought through her throat. Rolan stopped touching her immediately.
‘Was that alright?’ He asked, completely red in the face. Zelphie felt her own skin burn and her happy tail fell and she felt it coil around her leg in embarrassment.
‘Yes, sorry, it felt nice,’ she said softly and Rolan nodded. He took a while to think about his next words and Zelphie bit her lip. She was about to wish Rolan a good night, but he spoke first.
‘I’ll get some oil for you, we’ll see if they just need a massage,’ he said and nodded.
‘Oh, you don’t need to,’ Zelphie told him and he smiled a little at her.
‘I’d like to,’ he said simply and turned on his heel. Zelphie noticed the happy curl of his tail as he left the room. He wasn’t going to be easily swayed off, that was for sure. Zelphie knew that, she meant what she had said, wizards were stubborn and Rolan was a prime example of that. He was stubborn, confrontational, proud and fiercely protective. Zelphie knew now that was probably the guilt he felt. The same guilt she felt when others took care of her. She understood him, and she would continue to not allow his blunt speech upset her. The truth was, she adored Rolan, just as she did Cal and Lia. And the other tieflings that she had grown so close to, Alfira, Lakrissa, Bex and Danis, all of them. The siblings were priority to her. They were good people, happy people, and people that deserved the world in her eyes. Even more so now. 
Zelphie walked to her new bed and sat down on it. The mattress was plush as anything she'd ever sat on. She giggled to herself, thinking of how she would get out of it in the morning. She touched the soft blanket, running her hands over it gently. What a difference, she’d never lived like this before. Her mind flashed to an idea of how her new housemates might have lived back in Elturel, its descent into Avernus. She shook her head, not wishing to let her drunk imagination run wild on that subject. She heard a loud crash outside and lifted herself off the bed. She walked to the balcony doors and opened them. Fireworks. Someone was shooting them off and she smiled. Rolan was right, the view was beautiful, she had a view of the river. She was a very lucky tiefling.
‘Exploring?’ A voice called from behind her. Zelphie turned around and smiled, seeing Rolan again, a little tincture in his hand. Her tail moved back and forth happily.
‘Someone is setting off fireworks,’ she said happily. Rolan smiled down at her and looked off as another few were set off.
‘Here I was, hoping you would get a good night’s rest,’ he said and walked past her to the edge of the balcony. ‘But, it’s the very least the city can do to celebrate its hero,’ he said and glanced back at Zelphie. She walked over and stood next to him.
‘Baldur’s Gate has many heroes,’ she corrected him and he gave her a sly little smirk. ‘At least one of them on this balcony,’ she said and gave him a playful nudge. He gave a proud little huff.
‘Oh please, that compliment cannot come from you. I wouldn’t even have had power the cannons gave you if not for you,’ he told her and she smiled. ‘Shall we?’ He asked her, nodding back inside. She followed him back into the room. Rolan sat on the bed and Zelphie sat on the floor in front of him, her back in between his legs. ‘Please tell me if this hurts,’ he told her and Zelphie closed her eyes, bracing for pain. Pain did not come. Starting at the crown of her horns, she felt his fingers gently glide. ‘When I was younger, I was bullied relentlessly. Other children had no issue grabbing me by my horns and pushing me around,’ he spoke and Zelphie opened one eye. ‘My horns very rarely went without being sore. This would always help,’ he continued and Zelphie closed her eyes again, relaxing. He had such a soft, low voice, very pensive. Between his voice and the massage, she would fall asleep like a brick. She leaned back, her purring continued and her tail coiled around Rolan’s leg. ‘It’s alright, right?’ He asked her and she nodded slowly.
‘Yes, you’re so good, Rolan,’ she said softly. She meant it. It felt wonderful. She had never been massaged before, not really, nothing like this. ‘You have a wonderful touch,’ she added. His fingers moved up her horn and she shuddered. It hurt a little, but the chills were worth the pain. Where did all of this gentleness and care come from?
‘Thank you,’ he said softly, very happy with the praise. It was not long into this lovely treatment that Zelphie leaned against Rolan’s leg and felt her aching body weigh heavy. ‘Such a simple thing to be taken care of, but it means the world, doesn’t it?’ He kept talking softly. Zelphie did not respond. She was still purring and her tail was still around his leg. ‘Zelphie?’ He called out softly. Nothing. She was asleep. Rolan froze for a second, not sure what to do. He moved a little and she stayed still. Rolan got off of the bed and shuffled away from Zelphie. It hadn’t taken very much to send her to sleep. She slumped up against the bed. Rolan pushed the blankets to the side and looked back at Zelphie. A strong transmutation spell would do the trick. Not that he liked using magic on an unconscious friend, but it was just to help her into bed. Slowly her body lifted off of the floor and he was able to drop her gently on the bed. He covered her with blankets and left. Zelphie slept the deepest sleep of her life that night, ready to take on what tomorrow would have brought.
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vspin · 2 months
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Because I can't play the game, I have been thinking 🤣
I have already written about the lack of Act 3 reactivity... but another big miss for me is the lack of outcomes in Act 3.
At the end of the day, you only have two big options: control the Absolute or destroy it. (I didn't add in Durge as separate endings, because even their origin run ends the same way... it leads back to those 2 choices).
There is no variation in these choices, especially because none of the sidequests matter. It also really limits RP for those of us who like morally gray characters.
Here are some options that I think would have been really great to add for extra endings if you decide to kill the brain. These would depend on the choices and sidequests you've done. Make them mutually exclusive and give us a quick cutscene.
Note: I would keep all the current choices in the game available. These would just be extra paths to the quests we already have.
- Taking political power in Baldur's Gate. Maybe you blackmail or get rid of Ulder Ravengard and take Gortash's place as Archduke. Of course, you can make Wyll take his father's place, but maybe the MC also sets themselves up for power. Make an evil and a good option for this path.
- Harpers. Become a Harper with Jaheira and start rebuilding the network in BG.
- Zhents vs. The Guild. Choose one for power in BG. Have an option to take over the organization yourself.
- Wizard/Sorcerer's can become the Master of Ramazith's Tower (sorry Rolan 😭). This would give some incentive to binding Dame Aylin since this choice makes NO sense as is. You get a buff for binding her.
These are the ideas off the top of my head. I just would like more outcomes in the quest and more "evil/selfish" choices that aren't tied to being a dumb murder hobo or someone's subservient lackey
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dustdeepsea · 14 days
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"This is just reconnaissance. Civilian garb only, no Guild colours. Rugan knows all the routes—which ones are claimed by the Zhentarim and which ones to avoid.” He nodded as Nine-Fingers spoke. “And you've parleyed with gods and monsters. Between the two of you, you should have no problem getting in and out of all these places without a fight. And well, if it comes down to it..." She smiled meaningfully. "I know you can handle it."
Tav tries to find their place in Baldur’s Gate as an adventurer after the party has disbanded. They are sent on a quest with Rugan to maintain a tenuous peace, but what they find may threaten the entire city as it attempts to rebuild.
Part 3 of Trouble Will Find Me
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So here we are. This is the post-game Tav longfic I have been threatening to write for months. I never thought a smutty one-shot with a minor NPC would turn into a series. I have a complete outline planned for this multi-chapter fic, and I'm going to give it my best shot.
Thank you to everyone who beta read, fact-checked, workshopped and encouraged me to write and share this: @littleplasticrat, @fistfuloftarenths, @my-favourite-zhent.
As always, thanks for being so sweet to Octavia, who is the Grumpiest Creature right now in this story.
Rating and tags will be updated as the story progresses.
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Gods and Monsters
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Rugan/Tav (Baldur's Gate), Rugan (Baldur's Gate)/Original Character(s)
Characters: Rugan (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate), Nine-Fingers Keene, Jaheira (Baldur's Gate)
Additional Tags: Adventure & Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Game: Baldur's Gate 3, POV Alternating, Named Tav (Baldur's Gate), Nonbinary Tav (Baldur's Gate)
Read it on AO3 (4400 words)
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verai-marcel · 2 months
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Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 21 of 28)
Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.
Act I - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12
Act II - Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20
AO3 Link is here, darling.
Word Count: 4,513
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Act II, Chapter 9 - The Artifact
As everyone packed their things and got ready to leave for the Gate, you realized that you had a new party member.
Jaheira had decided to accompany you to help defeat the Chosen of the Dead Three. She had said she couldn’t stand and watch some young brats make the same mistakes she did when she went against the Bhaalspawn.
Halsin had rejoined your party as well; he had promised your group that he would lend his aid in defeating the Absolute before returning to help rebuild Thaniel’s land. It was the least he could when everyone had helped him remove the curse.
And so now, with two druids along for the journey, you carried on to the city, despite your own misgivings about returning to a place where you might be recognized.
It’s been three years. Perhaps no one will remember me. I was only here for a tenday, after all.
It should have been a straight shot to the bridge that led to Baldur’s Gate. But just as you all had attempted to pass through, a gang of githyanki warriors ambushed you. But after having a good night’s sleep, your friends were invigorated and took them out quickly.
Lae’zel didn’t seem surprised by the attack. You spoke quietly to her as the group continued down the road and discovered that she had been visited by one of the other githyanki shortly before your group entered the Underdark. You had been sound asleep, apparently. She had met with the one you had seen flying a red dragon when you had just started traveling with them. You thought the brothel was a strange place to meet, but you figured clandestine meetings were probably commonplace there.
As you left the Shadowlands, you felt a soft tingling along your spine. It felt more like a gentle touch, like someone running their fingers delicately along your skin. You turned to see the huge tree that had been blackened and rotting suddenly glow and bloom, life returning to it in a sudden wave of growth. Light was returning to the land, and your friends had helped make it happen. You turned to the others, who had also stopped and were looking back, satisfied smiles on their faces.
The day passed on the road, chatting away, almost as if you all weren’t about to face the biggest threat to the city in nearly a century. You managed to pull Shadowheart aside and spoke with her separately from the others about what had happened in the temple.
It took her a bit to open up, but once she started to tell you, everything came pouring out. Her refusal to kill the Nightsong. Her decision to trust her instincts for once and not blindly do what Shar asked of her. What Dame Aylin told her last night in the inn.
“When we get to the city, I want to start searching for my parents.”
You held her hand. You had not put on your gloves today, on a whim. You were glad, for you felt a determination, strong and clear. The haze that you had always sensed in her emotions before was now gone, replaced by a clean clarity, like spring water. “I’ll help you, in any way I can.”
Shadowheart smiled warmly at you. “Thank you. For always being here for us. For me.” She squeezed your hand in return. “There is… one thing, I’d like your help with. I’ll tell you when we make camp tonight.”
***
You were halfway to the city when night fell, so you set up a camp a little ways off the main road. There was an abandoned house surrounded by red grasses and red-leaved trees. It was a beautiful area, not quite healed, but not quite dead either. You supposed it was because it looked like autumn had come to all the foliage that made it look so alluring to you.
Setting up the campfire, you were about to sing your fire cantrip when it suddenly lit on its own.
You felt a harsh sting at the base of your spine, and you quickly turned around. The air shimmered and Raphael appeared, all smirks and slimy grins. 
“Oh? And where’s your pet?”
Your brow wrinkled. “He’s not my pet.”
His gaze focused on something over your shoulder. “Could have fooled me, with how quickly he’s coming to your side.”
You didn’t take your eyes off the devil, only listening for Astarion as he marched right up next to you. 
“We delivered the devil. Now I want what I’m owed. We had a deal.”
Raphael sneered. “Indeed we did.”
You listened quietly, taking in everything that the devil was saying. It was horrendous. When Raphael disappeared with a flamboyant snap of his fingers and a plume of infernal smoke, you turned to Astarion.
He frowned. “Hmmm.”
You stepped closer and took his hand in yours. His emotions were a jumble of confusion.
“What do you think I should do?” he asked you in a quiet murmur.
You thought about how hard it was to feel free when you were constantly looking over your shoulder. “You’ll never be free while Cazador lives.”
“I hate how right you are.” He paused, thinking. “I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone even when I was just another wretched toy for him to play with. But if I’m the key to this power he craves, he’ll hunt me to the ends of Faerûn.”
You squeezed his hand.
Astarion let out a resigned sigh. “I need to take the fight to him.”
“Let’s ask the others for help.”
He looked at you, unsure.
Tugging on his arm, you led him to the others sitting by the campfire. 
“No need to ask,” Gale suddenly said as you and Astarion sat down. “We’ll help you, Astarion.”
He blinked. “I…” Taking a small breath, he bowed his head. “Thank you.”
Karlach came over and sat beside him, lightly punching his arm. “C’mon now, did you really think we’d let that arsehole take you away from us?”
“And we’d be doing the city a favor,” Wyll mentioned. “I can’t in good conscience let someone like that become even more powerful.”
You watched Astarion, clearly still not used to having friends, awkwardly accept everyone’s offer to help.
Aww. I’m happy for him.
As everyone sat by the campfire, you mentally tallied up all of the things your friends wanted, and needed, to do. Visit the arcane bookstore to research the crown. Find Shadowheart’s parents. Kill Cazador. Beat the shit out of Gortash and take his netherstone. Find Orin and take her netherstone. Destroy (or control) the elder brain.
So many tasks. At the end of the day, it sounded like a laundry list for legendary heroes, not average folk.
But looking around at your friends, you thought, perhaps they could become legendary. After all, they all had harsh pasts that forced them to grow stronger, wiser, bolder, than anyone you had ever met before.
So why am I here?
The night went on, and the others began to head off to bed. You cleaned up and went to Shadowheart’s tent and asked her what she needed help with.
“I… I want to change my hair.”
You blinked. “Sure, of course.” Looking at her dark braid, you imagined the possibilities. Luscious wavy locks? A cute bob cut? “You have an idea in mind?”
“Well… I think I’d like to change the color, mostly.”
You blinked. “To… what?”
She looked up at the moonlight. “Perhaps something that suits my… heritage.”
Ah, Selune. Oh! “I have an idea.”
You sang your illusion spell, the one you had learned from Gale a while back. But now you could manipulate it to change aspects of the image, and with a few hummed notes, you could change how her hair looked in the image. She selected one that looked similar to her current style, but in silver.
“Alright, I apologize if this doesn’t work exactly how you imagine.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
You took a deep breath. Gods, I hope this works.
Then you sang. It was a soft song, one that grew out her bangs to mid-length, and changed her dark strands to platinum, the darkness ebbing away from her roots to the tips, as if you were singing away the shadows from her hair. When you finished, you grabbed her mirror and held it up to her. “What do you think?”
You held your breath as she turned her head one way, then another, her gaze critical.
Finally, she smiled. “I love it.” She turned and hugged you. “It’ll take some getting used to, but… it feels right.”
You hugged her tightly in return. “I’m glad.” Stepping back, you gently touched her braid. “It really does suit you.” Then you waggled your eyebrows. “Be sure that you ask Gale what he thinks in the morning. Or tonight.”
Shadowheart lightly slapped your arm, but shared your laughter.
***
“Are you quite done with your ladies night?”
You raised an eyebrow at Astarion, who was sitting inside of his tent, lounging back on a cushion, sipping a goblet of wine and reading a book. 
“Are you jealous that we didn’t invite you?” you asked as you sat next to him.
“What do you think?”
“I think you were.”
He put his goblet down, grabbed his hair brush, and handed it to you silently.
You smiled. “You were.” Quietly brushing his hair while he relaxed under your touch, you realized after a while that he had placed his book down. You leaned over to look at his face.
His eyes were closed, his lips curved slightly, contentedness flowing from him.
“When’s the last time you fed?”
He answered after a few moments. “Yesterday, I think.”
You placed your wrist in front of his mouth. “Here.”
Gently, Astarion grasped your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist. He lightly ran his fangs along your skin. 
You could feel his hunger, and his delight. And something simmering beneath those emotions, something darker, more primal. Bracing yourself for the pain, you took a deep breath.
“Thank you for this meal,” he said in a reverent whisper before biting down. It stung, as always, but the emotions you had felt before became more intense. Your whole body felt like it lurched with the sensations, and you could feel your heart suddenly racing, both from his eagerness to feed, and also from the intimacy of the act.
You weren’t sure how long he fed from you, but when he let go, he kissed your wound. “I have a vial of healing potion near those books in the corner,” he said. “Just for you.”
You poured a few drops of the potion on your wrist, then you lay down, almost curling up around him like a cat. 
Astarion chuckled. “You’re like a kitten,” he murmured, commenting on your body language.
“Meow,” you said playfully.
He reached up and undid the leather strip that kept your bun together. He ran one hand through your hair, letting it cascade around his hand. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”
You blinked and looked up at him. “Erm, thank you.”
His expression looked pained, and you could feel a slight tinge of guilt through his touch. “So beautiful it almost hurts,” he whispered.
Frowning, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him down beside you. You stared into his eyes, trying to figure out why he would say such a thing. Oh. I think I know why. “What would take that hurt away?”
He looked sad. “I don’t know.”
You gently pressed your forehead against his. “Perhaps a chaste kiss?”
You were half-joking, but he looked at you with such hope that you immediately felt bad.
“Can you imagine?” he whispered. “I’ve bedded thousands. And yet the thought of a mere kiss with you sends my heart aflame.”
Cupping his cheek, you smiled. “That’s because I’m special.”
“That you are.”
He and you both leaned in slowly, eyes closing as your lips came into contact. There was a spark, a flash of white hot heat that lasted half a moment before it melted into a soft warmth. You pulled away first, not wanting to risk anything further.
Astarion’s eyes fluttered open. “Perfection.”
You smiled. “You liar.”
He chuckled softly as he pulled you in close and settled in to trance. “About you? Never.”
***
You awoke in his arms again, and together you broke down the tent before you went to help clean and pack up camp for the rest of the journey. 
After another day of eventless travel, you found an abandoned fort as night fell, and decided that although you were a stone’s throw away from the city’s outer limits, there was no reason to exhaust yourselves so soon when there would be fierce battles ahead. After setting up the campsite, you climbed up to the tower and stared at the city lights. It had been a while since you’d been here. Over three years, and to you, Baldur’s Gate still looked the same.
I wonder if Waterdeep looks any different now than when I left. Not that I would ever go back. Not unless I knew that masked lord was dead.
Taking in the view for a few minutes more, you finally turned and headed back down the ladder to the campfire, where Shadowheart and Gale were setting up the kindling.
“Shall I light it up?” Gale asked, his hand raised, ready to cast a cantrip.
“Sure,” Shadowheart replied, and while you quietly stood back and watched, Gale snapped his fingers, waved his hand, and murmured some words you couldn’t hear, his eyes never leaving hers.
Alright Shadowheart, I see why you fell for him.
Setting the campfire ablaze, Gale leaned a little closer to the cleric, their arms brushing against one another.
You tried to slip away, but you accidentally stepped on some dry leaves. Gods, could I have been any more cliché? 
They both turned to you.
“How long have you been there?” Shadowheart asked as Gale stepped away from her.
Argh, I’m sorry Gale. “I was just walking past, so only a second or two.”
Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“She was lying?”
Both of you looked at Gale.
You’re so smart, and yet so dumb. “I was trying to be discreet,” you said as you turned to Shadowheart. “Isn’t that what you taught me?”
She laughed. “I did, and I appreciate the effort.” Taking Gale’s hand, she smiled. “But… I think it’s alright now.”
Gale looked back at her in surprise. 
“Besides, everyone in camp already knows,” you said with a laugh.
Gale continued to look surprised.
Oh my gods, Gale. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see you two holding hands openly now.”
When the supper was ready and everyone sat down together to eat, Karlach gasped and pointed at the two lovebirds holding hands, like a little girl excitedly seeing something cute.
“Oh my gosh, finally!”
Gale and Shadowheart blushed. The others only laughed.
“I told you, everyone knew already,” you said, passing out glasses of wine to everyone. “A toast, to friends, to love, and to beating up bad guys.”
Everyone heartily cheered and had a few more glasses before supper was over. While you cleaned up, everyone was relaxing by the fire, amicably chatting away. It was peaceful and nice.
But you felt a foreboding, deep down in your gut. And on your seal, to be honest. And for some reason, every time you focused on the lines of magic, there was always some kind of thread leading back to Shadowheart. Or more specifically, her pack.
Could it be…?
Finally, you could no longer resist your curiosity. You knew she kept some kind of strange artifact on her person, everyone knew about it. The others hadn’t told you too much about it, other than it contained a power that was helping them resist transforming into a mind flayer. So you went up to Shadowheart after you finished your chores.
“Can I… see your artifact?”
She looked surprised. “Why?”
“I…” You paused. You realized that only Astarion knew about your seal. “Um, just curious. You all have spoken about it here and there, and I realized that I had never seen it up close.”
She raised an eyebrow, but pulled it out of her pack and showed it to you. “You can look, but I don’t think you should touch it. It might… react poorly.”
You could tell she was lying, but you weren’t sure why.
As you approached, it glowed, power pulsing along its creases. Your seal pulsed in response, and you stepped back. “Oh, wow. Alright, well, it does seem a bit… dangerous.”
Shadowheart nodded as she put it away. “It’s the only thing keeping us from transforming into brain suckers, but it’s certainly brought us trouble along the way.”
“Ah, that’s true. Well, thank you for indulging my curiosity,” you finally said, and bid her good night.
Returning to Astarion’s tent, you lay on your bedroll and stared up at the stars. Astarion was taking first watch tonight, so you would be alone for the first half of the night. Before, it wouldn’t have bothered you. Now, you wanted to hold him in your arms.
Gods, is this what falling in love feels like? To be so… needy? 
Slowly, you fell into a restless sleep.
***
You awoke to the sting of your seal burning on your back and sat bolt upright.
“Darling?”
Glancing over at Astarion, who had only just taken off his armor, you only said, “seal,” and ran outside, following the lines of power. You could hear him pulling his armor back on as he ran after you. Not bothering to sneak past the other tents, you ran to the main campfire and stared up at the wooden walkway. The lines of power ended there.
“There’s nothing here,” Astarion said as he caught up to you. “At least, not yet.”
Then he suddenly grasped his head and squeezed his eyes shut. 
At the same time, a portal opened on the wooden walkway and several figures stepped out, their menacing silhouettes darkening the glow from the portal.
The figures, sensing that you were the weak one, all honed in and dashed towards you.
“Go to Withers!” Astarion yelled as he deflected an arrow shot straight at your head.
You ran towards the little hut at the edge of the campsite, just as everyone else appeared and ran towards the enemy, passing you on the way.
Then you saw the owlbear cub, snarling and growling, while Scratch tugged on its neck, trying to pull him away.
Oh gods, the little ones!
You stopped to help Scratch pull the owlbear cub away from the fight to where Withers was staying, calmly talking the cub down from its bloodlust.
“No sweetheart, you can’t go fight, not now. Wait until you’re bigger.”
~~But I want to fight now. Help big brother.~~
“Big Brother?” You looked over to see Halsin in his bear form, knocking back enemies with a mighty swing of his paws. Turning back to the little owlbear, you scratched his head. “When you’re bigger, my sweet. Let’s make sure you get lots to eat so you can grow big and strong, alright? But for now, you need to stay safe and alive so you can fight later.”
Owly looked up at you with his big pleading eyes.
“No, you must stay here.”
He hooted sadly.
You turned to Scratch. “Thank you for helping him.”
~Of course, Mistress. I couldn’t let our little brother get hurt.~
You blinked. “Mistress?”
Scratch tipped his head. ~Well. Yes. I suppose you’re our mistress now. You’ve been good to us. You care about us. You feed us.~
You nodded. “I suppose. But to me, we’ll always be friends.”
Scratch pressed his wet nose against your knee. ~Yes, always.~
Turning your attention back to the battle beyond, you decided to stay behind and wait for the others to handle the fight. You watched as they defeated the enemies and jumped into the portal. Everything grew quiet, and it looked like the warriors on the ground were well and truly dead.
You came upon the corpses, a bit surprised to see that they were githyanki.
Ah. Odd. Oh well.
You began to loot their bodies, taking all of their armor and weapons for later bartering. Then you dragged their bodies, one by one with Scratch’s help, to the cliff’s edge, tossing them off the side.
When you saw Owly devouring one of the bodies, you had an idea. “Owly, do you want to eat the others?”
Owly looked up and looked around. ~~Yes, more food!~~ he chirped happily around a mouthful of flesh.
Good, that’ll be less weight to push off the cliff.
You cleaned up the camp and prepared some healing potions, waiting for the others to return.
A few hours passed, and when they came out of the portal, your companions looked exhausted. More concerning to you was Gale was helping Shadowheart walk, her arm wrapped around his shoulders, favoring her left leg. You called her name and immediately went to the other side of her, putting her other arm around your shoulders. Helping her to the campfire, you and Gale sat her down, leaning against a rock to prop her up.
You went to grab a few healing potions, quickly returning just in time to see Gale holding her hand, gently whispering to her as she grimaced against the pain. You knelt down beside her and helped her drink two of the potions, monitoring the ghastly wound that ran along the length of her thigh as it healed.
“You’re a tough one, aren’t you,” you said soothingly as you helped her out of her armor. 
Shadowheart only shrugged.
“Can you walk now?”
She nodded. “Yeah, seems alright.”
“Good. Leave your clothes outside your tent, I’ll clean and mend them before morning.”
You didn’t say anything when Gale led her to her tent and followed her inside.
Now you could tend to the others. Everyone already knew the drill as they tossed their clothes in piles outside of their tents, clearly ready to be done for the night. Just as you were about to dutifully gather their things, Astarion gently guided you back to his tent.
“Astarion?”
“It can wait until you’ve had some sleep,” he said, dropping his armor and bloody clothes on the floor inside of his tent. He pulled on a pair of soft linen pants and lay down on his bedroll. “Come here, darling.”
Just as you laid down next to him, he pulled you on top of him, draping you over his body like a blanket. A feeling of satisfaction oozed from him, so you let him hold you.
Letting his body lull you into a warm, comforting stupor, you softly sang a lullaby from long ago.
Soon enough, both of you fell asleep.
***
You woke up when Astarion did. More specifically, he jolted upright, accidentally flinging you to the side.
“Astarion? Are you alright?” you asked, panicking at the look of fear on his face.
“I… I slept.”
You blinked. It took a moment for you to register exactly what he said. “Wait, I thought elves didn’t sleep.”
“We don’t, generally speaking. At least, I don’t.” He stared at you. “Your song last night. It was different from your usual lullaby.”
You thought about it. “Oh… it was one my mother used to sing to me. It’s… in Sylvan…” You shook your head. “Wait, I thought nothing could make an elf fall asleep?”
Astarion stared at you. “Curious.” He finally shrugged. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you not sing that song in my presence again. I… dreamed about the past.”
He said that last word with such disgust that you were afraid to ask what he dreamed about. “I’m sorry.”
He waved away your apology. “You didn’t know.” Looking closely at your face, he raised an eyebrow. “You want to ask me what I dreamed about, don’t you?”
You swallowed. “I don’t want to make you relive something you don’t want to.”
He shrugged and held your hand. “Perhaps telling you will help me forget about it.”
You could tell that Astarion was omitting or glossing over certain things as he spoke, but you got the gist. Entombed for a whole year. You could barely manage a day without eating, but a whole year? You wanted to tear out Cazador’s entrails and strangle him with them. Your tears fell, full of rage and sadness for Astarion, who was punished far too harshly just for showing a bit of compassion.
He brushed your tears away. “You’re far too empathetic,” he said.
You have no idea. Taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself, your breath still shuddering. “I wish I could feed him his own innards.”
Astarion laughed. “If you could fight, you would have been a magnificent menace,” he said proudly. “It’s almost a shame you’re as sweet as you are. Can you imagine yourself tearing your enemies limb from limb?”
You chuckled. “That is definitely a fever dream of an image.” 
He took your hands and pressed his forehead to yours. You could tell that some of the fear was subsiding, but there was still a slight thrum beneath everything else. He finally leaned back and took a breath.
“Everyone said that they’d help you. They’ll help you kill him, and you’ll be free,” you assured him.
He only hummed thoughtfully before getting up. “Well, I suppose we should face the new day, hm?”
***
As you went around cleaning and mending the damaged clothes from last night, you could overhear snippets of conversation as the others ate breakfast.
“The Gate is close. As is Cazador.” You could hear Astarion’s ire as he launched into a tirade, his words dripping with venom.
The others commented, but your ears perked up when he mentioned taking Cazador’s place in the ritual.
I’m not sure about this.
You continued to eavesdrop until they decided to look for Astarion’s ‘siblings’ around the dens of the city. You couldn’t quite tell what everyone was thinking, but with each person having their own goals in the city, you wondered if they were all distracted with their own thoughts and not truly paying attention.
After an hour, everyone had packed up and gotten their things packed onto the floating disc. Walking down the path towards the city, you quietly pulled Astarion aside.
“Are you sure about… taking Cazador’s place?”
“We need to find out more, but why not? Don’t you want me to be stronger?”
I do, but not if you’re sacrificing souls to a devil to do it. “Just… think about the consequences.”
He shrugged. “I am.”
You could tell that he wasn’t. Leaving it alone for now, you followed the group into Rivington, and a new phase of your adventure. 
Gods, we have enough shit headed our way. I hope I can help them, if even just a little bit.
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Act II, Chapter 9 End notes: Finally, we’re getting to the city! What new trouble will our heroes find themselves in? How will our dear hearth witch handle the big city? Find out next week! Just seven more chapters to go, my dears…
Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21
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suntiger745 · 3 months
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Finished Baldur's Gate 3 today. Something I've not done with many narrative games, instead getting caught up in making new characters. I've not finished Skyrim (or Morrowind), nor Dragon Age Origins. I completed Oblivion once, The Mass Effect trilogy once and Fallout 3 once, Fallout 4 three times. Dragon Age Inquisition twice. I still have like 40+ Tavs so I have plenty of playthroughs to do if I feel like it.
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Anyway, BG3. It was really good y'all. :) In some ways I benefited from not completing it before now. I got the option to send Karlach to Avernus with Wyll, and I got the post-adventure gathering that Withers put together, for my first playthrough.
I've seen some posts about the % of players who have completed the games vs started it, or gotten off the Nautiloid, or finished Act 1. I took some screenshots of them, but at the same time I'm not sure how accurate they are. I know for Elder Scrolls/Fallout games I play with mods and never cared about the achievements, so they are always disabled for me and not part of the statistics. I imagine it's the same with a not insignificant number of BG3 players as well. (I plan to mod BG3 as well, I just wanted to make a Tav playthrough and a Durge playthrough before I start in on the mods.)
I also don't know if the stats on the achievements are updated every time you open Steam/look at them. Is the 50,7% of players who have completed Act1 from august 28th when i got it, or from february 3rd when I looked at it today?
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Also, the numbers of allies who showed up to help in the final fight, as well as all the letters you get in the little camp get-together, were both really cool moments. The allies coming together to help you was a real cool and emotional payoff for all the quests you've done and people you have helped during them game.
The letters were less awesome but in many ways more touching. Especially hearing that Arabella is a student of Elminster, Alfira has a successful bard school, thanks to Lakrissa saving up her waitress wages and buying a house for her. Barcus, leading the Ironhand gnomes and making peace with the Gondians, doing great work in the rebuilding (and saying that 'it's not a big deal really'), Jaheira's kids doing great work in the city with Jaheira herself being alternatively proud and worried about them.
Halsin being a father figure to a gaggle of kids in the cleansed lands around Moonrise Towers and Orpheus and Lae'zel meeting with the gith'zerai leader to form an alliance it also both cool and sweet.
Also, Scratch and Anji playing fetch with the now inert Astral Prism. XD
Props to Larian for sneaking in a post credits scene too. Seems Jergal is not happy at all with how the Dead Three has conducted business in the Domains he once held sway over.
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yoonkinii · 1 month
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We Were Human
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Pairing(s): Ascended!AstarionxReader
Part 2:
Synopsis: Astarion died as soon as he became something the world has never seen before. No one noticed the damage before it was too late and the Astarion everyone loved was lost to the new one. No one could notice when the turn was slow and silent. He slowly lost the playful glint in his eyes. Lost the love he gaze upon me with. Lost everything that made him the man I loved. Oh, how I would give anything to get him back. I would gladly give up my damned soul for him.
Aka you are transported back to the past in order to prevent ascended Astarion from losing himself the only problem? You don’t have a lot of time.
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Masterlist
Warnings: Gore, blood, cruelty, cursing, death/murder, mentions of using oneself unwillingly, abuse. Its ascended astarion, prepare for the worse.
Note(s): For the sake of the plot- Astarion will not automatically be damned from the start. In this world, Astarion becomes lost to the ascension overtime until he becomes the ascended vampire we know him to be in the game. Another note that should be highlighted is that this story will be told from the first person perspective since it benefits the story more than any other perspective.
You will also notice various things being different from the game. For example, Karlach will be able to stay in the ‘human’ world and she fixed her heart. (I love my girl, I’m not sending her back), Szaars palace has a different layout cause the one in the game was stupid. There will be more that you will notice in the future so beware.
Thank You.
-
The water was warm against my skin, chasing away the chill that coated my flesh like second skin. After my whole breakdown with Astarion, he had to step out to assist Gale with Wyll. If I was remembering correctly, the city was being rebuilt by everyone still left alive and Wyll had taken on the position of Duke. Everyone in my little team ended up with a high ranking position, each controlling a certain decision when it came to rebuilding the city. Karlach was paired with Damon with rebuilding homes and stores. Shadowheart and Halsin took care of the injured. Lae’zel looked over people working so they don’t fall out of line. Jaheira and Minsc left the city looking for survivors that may have found misfortune. Gale was sort of Wylls advisor, using his vast amount of intellect when Wyll need it. And Astarion was the Lord of Szaars place, an already powerful figure just by title. Even more powerful when the very first ascended vampyre owned it.
Astarion left with Gale, muttering something alone the lines of ‘mortals can’t do anything’ but agreed to help regardless. It was a little strange to be back in the position of the hero of Baldurs Gate and not confined to one room. I can’t help but find myself waiting to wake up, to open my eyes and be greeted with the same dark ceiling. I wait and wait but I never wake up. None of it felt real and I was scared it wasn’t real; that I somehow died in my sleep and was just replaying my memories.
That was an absurd notion. He would never let me die. Not when my life was controlled by him in every aspect.
The door to the bathroom opened gently, a familiar face entering. She paused in front of the now closed door, eyes trained to the floor as she bowed slightly at the waist. Her green wide eyes glanced up at me nervously, orange hair pinned back with some clips.
“Lucinda.” I greeted her with a smile, singling her to come in with a nod.
Lucinda was one of the first servants we ever hired to serve in the palace. She lost her entire family in the final battle and was lost without a loved one or home. She was also the first spawn Astarion made- minus me.
Flashes of tangled limbs, Lucinda’s hair, and his dark gaze watching me flashed in my mind. I couldn’t help but grimace at the memory. I had walked into our shared room without a second thought only to be faced with him bedded with Lucinda. Even in the darkened room, I could see the love filled gaze Lucinda gaze into him while he watched me with a raised brow as if I was the one in the wrong. I sobbed my heart out that day- or my figurative heart out.
Lucinda tried to smile back at me but it looked strained- like her skin wasn’t used to moving like that. That was how she usually was. She was quiet but efficient and half the time she felt like a ghost, silently walking around the palace and doing what was expected of her without a single complaint.
Even as she got closer to me, I didn’t feel any hatred towards her. I knew she was one of his victims, knew that she fell for the false promises and loveless lyrics that danced on his tongue. I also fell for them.
Lucinda wordlessly assisted bathing me, gentle and nimble fingers making sure every part of my body was clean before offering me a towel to dry off. We were both silent even as she fit me into my gown for the evening. She tightened the bodice, pinned my hair up in a crown of braids, and dangled silver jewlery from my ears and neck. I stood before a mirror, eyes slightly widened as I looked back at my reflection. My reflection ws another privilege I had lost from him. It was so simple for him, taking things away from me without a second thought. He could give but he could also take. My throat tightened as I recalled how I was able to stand in the sun and now I could even see my reflection.
My eyes trailed over my gown and I had to admit that Lucinda picked something splendid for today. The maroon dress was made from rich, luxurious fabric that had a subtle sheen to it, adding a touch of opulence to the overall appearance. The bodice of the dress was tailored to perfection, creating a flattering and regal appearance for my body. Intricate silver thread adorned the neckline and cuffs, depicting carefully crafted whirls of life on the fabric.
The neckline of the dress was boat shaped, covering most of my chest but still exposing my collarbones. The sleeves were long and flowy, the cuffs of my sleeves almost creating maroon waves; swishing with every movement of my hands. The skirt of the dress was full and cascaded to the floor and even though it was long, I could still move freely. Just like the neckline and cuffs, the hem of the dress was adorned with the same intricate threading.
My lips were painted with color and my eyes lined with kohl to accentuate my features. Lucinda gingerly placed black heels before me- offering her hand to help me balance as I put on the heels. Once done, I looked at my reflection once, nodding with acceptance.
“Astarion is with Wyll still, correct?”
“Yes, My Lady.” Lucinda replied so softly that if there was any other sort of noise in the room, I would’ve missed her response. “Lord Astarion has not returned from the Dukes.”
“Thank you, Lucinda. I will be heading over there now.”
She nodded her head, bowing at the waist as I turned to leave the bathroom. Exiting the bathroom, I walked down the halls I had been locked away in. I noticed that some decorations were missing- we must have not gotten them yet. The palace was made up of two stories. Upon entering, a grand foyer awaits, featuring double sweeping staircases parallel from each other. The staircases were carpeted with a dark red runner leading to the second floor before continuing down the halls of the second floor. The walls were decorated with various tapestries purchased from various merchants. The double staircases create a sort of entryway to the reception room appointed with fine furniture and gilded fixtures.
After accessing the second floor via that staircase, it branches out left and right. The halls create a sort of square shape, if someone was to walk left and follow down the hall, they would end up at the opposite of the staircase they used to get up. The whole palace had dark wooden floors in every room and dark walls that constantly casted the palace in a permanent shadow, even with the windows open. The halls are lined with a series of private chambers and living quarters. The servants quarters take up most of the left side of the second floor, various rooms provided from them- even if Lucinda is the only current servant. Towards the second floor, in the middle of the two halls, lies Astarions study. An exquisite study with towering bookshelves and the same exquisite furniture that can be found around the house. The back wall of his study, across from the entrance to it, is made out of pure glass. Differing window panes were used to create a floor to ceiling window-wall that showcased the city below.
Our shared bedroom is down the hall from his office. If someone was to exit his study, take a left and walk down the hall until they turned the corner, the first door on the left would lead to our chambers. Upon entering, the canopied bed is pressed against the middle of the wall, black lace curtains offering privacy whenever needed. To the left of the bed, there were doors that lead to a private balcony that was large enough to adorn a small table and two chairs. I usually found Astarion reading there when he had enough free time. There wasn’t much in our room, other than the usual litter of Astarions book collection and a small work desk pressed against the corner of the wall next to the balcony doors. Astarion rarely ever used it, choosing to do his work in his studies. The walls were adorned with artwork but the most notable one was the portrait of not only Astarion and I but everyone in our small little team. All of us were wearing smiles on our faces, even Lae’zel who seemed to have a permanent frown etched onto her skin. That portrait hung above the work desk and there were a few times I had caught Astarion looking at it as he sat at that desk.
I finished climbing down the staircase, heels clicking against the wooden floor that was exposed from the lack of carpet covering it. I exited the palace and was greeted with the same scene I saw the first time I stepped out but less people were out. This wasn’t surprising since the sun was already starting to set. I followed the familiar path to where I knew Astarion would be, weaving and dodging people that were too busy to notice me passing by. A few did notice me, waving and calling out to me. I could only offer a small wave and smile back as I passed down various streets. The city looked almost unrecognizable with all the decimated buildings and death clinging to the air.
Finally reaching the building I was looking for, I opened the doors and was created with a long hallway with many doors lining the walls. It was somehow even busier inside than outside. People were walking to and from between rooms, carrying various things. Some were even running, expertly dodging those that weren’t in such a hurry. Voices merged, creating a muddle of echoes bouncing off the walls. I was only able to catch glimpses of conversation as I walked down the hall to the large wooden double doors at the end of the hall.
“No, no, we can’t use that material because…”
“What are we going to do about the limited space in the cemetery…”
“...funds are not being included when it should be you imbecile…”
Pushing the doors open, the hinges made no sound as I slipped through. Immediately, I was greeted with five males crowding around a large oval shaped table placed in the middle of the room. I only recognized three of them; Gale, Wyll, and Astarion. In my, I guess, other life, I had never stepped foot into this building when Astarion was called upon. I was too busy documenting expenses and checking who needed what in order to rebuild.
Wyll glanced up from where him and everyone else in the room was looking down at the parchment on the table. He smiled, tilting his head to the side- offering me to stand next to Astarion. Taking him up on his offer, I walked to where my husband stood, his back facing me. He didn’t bother looking behind himself to see who entered the room, he probably thought it was a servant coming in with new documents.
Gale spoke up from his position beside Wyll, his hand once again rubbing along his jaw in thought. His eyes flickered to me as I stood across from him next to Astarion. He nodded in regard before continuing with that was being discussed before I walked in,
“They have to be dealt with now before they are able to turn into something worse.”
A simple glance down at the table was all I needed to know what was going on. It was a map of Faerûn, several circles drawn indicating different camps strung out along where the shadow cursed lands were. Well, former shadow cursed lands were at since the land was cured because of Halsin and some of my help.
“What do you mean?” I ask, leaning slightly over the table to catch a batter look at the map. A hand trailed down the small of my back before resting on the right side of my waist. A soft kiss was pressed to my head as Astarion pressed his body against my left side of my own body- like being away from me was hard for him to do.
“Nothing too dreary. Just some Goblin camps that keep sprouting about the shadowed lands.” Astarion replied, sounding like there was nothing to worry about. I could hear the smile he wore on his face as he spoke. Rolling my eyes, a knowing smile took over my face as I crossed my arms, “Yes. Goblins congregating. Nothing serious.”
Wyll cleared his throat, “I know we have to deal with this situation soon but we don’t have any manpower to spare. Not with everything still in shambles. I am only suggesting to hold off until we have more able hands.”
“If we wait any longer, these damn things will already be in the city, wreaking havoc!” a deep and gruff voice cried out. I looked to the owner of the voice, his bright red hair contrasting against his olive toned skin. He was lithe and a little shorter than Astarion. His brown eyes almost feline like as he glared down at the table, his lips curled in a snarl. The manner and tone of his voice did not suit someone who appeared like him but then again, many things in this world didn’t suit it.
“Then what do you suggest, Doran?” Astarion replied, his voice laced with venom as he said Dorans name. Astarion eyed the younger male, raising a brow towards him mockingly.
Doran glowared, mumbling under his breath as he looked away from Astarion, fists clenching at his sides. A deep sigh resulted from the interaction, causing me to look at the final man in the room. He appeared older than the rest of us, graying beard lining his jaw, grayed hair sitting close to his skull, wrinkles from age sagging against his skin. He was shorter than all of us, his bear bell sticking out from under his clothes and thick arms massaged his temples in annoyance. I regarded him with a tilt to my head, wondering who he was and why he was here. I wondered the same thing about Doran but I knew they were meant to be here as well.
I cleared my throat, drawing everyone’s attention towards me. Licking my bottom lip, my gaze met Wylls, “They are right. These Goblins need to be handled immediately.”
Wyll opened his lips to retort but it died in his throat as I raised my hand to continue speaking, “I understand we don’t have the resources for this currently and that is why I am going to be handling this myself.” As I spoke, my mind flashed to what I knew from the future. I can only remember small glimpses of this situation and that’s because when it happened in my true life, I took no part in it.
The goblins were a problem, we didn’t have resources to deal with them and as a solution, Astarion went by himself to handle them. When he came back, he smiled less.
If I am here back in the past with a second chance, I was going to take advantage of it. If this is the first instance where Astarion took a step toward becoming him then I would do something I didn’t do in my time. I was going to go along with him.
“What?” Astarions voice rang out in the room, the hand on my waist tensing. “What do you mean?”
I looked up at him, brows pinching together in thought, “Well, it makes sense” I continued, “We don’t have enough people to spare to send out so why not spare me? I’m sure my skills are equivalent to at least ten soldiers.” I looked over at Wyll, brow raised in question. Wyll was in thought for a few moments, a breath being released from his pursed lips,
“Well-” He drawled, “It’s not a bad idea.”
I clasped my hands together in glee, before anyone could say anything else, “Then it’s settled!”
“Hold on. You must be a lunatic for thinking I am just going to let you go alone.” Astarion argued, his hand gone from my waist and now placed on his hip as he looked at me like I really was a lunatic.
I cooed, stepping closer to him so we were chest to chest, “And you are so cute for thinking I was going to go alone to begin with.” I pinched his cheek teasingly, nose wrinkly in delight, “You’re coming with me.” I said as I walked past him to the exit. A few seconds ticked by before he exploded in curses and whining about getting dirt under his nails.
-
“Darling, are you sure about this?”
Astarions voice questioned from across the room as he stood in front of a mirror hanging on the wall, fusing over his hair. The room was illuminated by several candles placed on wall mounted holders, the sun had gone an hour ago and casted the world in darkness.
I huffed out a small laugh, combing through my hair as I sat on the edge of the bed, “What do you mean? Of course I am sure. I thought you would jump for joy at the chance of leaving the city.”
Astarion eyes narrowed at me as he finally stepped away from the mirror and made his way towards me. “Me?” He placed his palm against his chest, “Be excited about leaving the city and all the comforts it has to offer. Oh, Yes, I am very excited.” His tone was filled with sarcasm as he sat beside me on the bed, my body bouncing slightly from his sudden weight being applied. He wordlessly grabbed the brush from my hand, gently running it through my locks and running his fingers through it every so often.
A slight pout formed on my lips, “What’s the big problem? You don’t want to spend quality time with me?”
He snorted, something only he would ever do with me, “Love, I would be chained to you if I was able. I just don’t find the whole ‘natures delight’ very appealing after being in it for so long.” I turned to face him, beaming at him with a smile,
“That’s what makes it fun! It will be just like old times, only this time you aren’t holding a knife to my throat.”
He gasped in mock shock, “How dare you bring that up? I needed help against an admirable foe and you told me to handle it myself. I was very hurt.” His chin lowered, accentuating the pout on his lips as he looked at me through his white lashes.
“It was a boar! Not an Illithid. You flat out lied to me.”
“Yes but that is beside the point. I needed help and you didn’t give it to me. I thought you were a kind soul.”
“I am a kind soul. I was just preoccupied with a whole worm in my skull.” I reasoned, refusing to look at him. I can’t lie, I may have come off a little rude when we first met. Sometimes even Shadowheart teases me for it since she just stood by and watched. My hair was pushed behind my shoulder, revealing the skin exposed from the new nightgown I had on. It was simply, just white satin that stopped mid thigh, the straps thin like most of my nightwear.
Soft lips pressed against my bare shoulder and my heart swelled. It was things like this that I missed most of all, the little things he would do to me. How he would reach over towards whenever I was near, the random kisses pressed softly against my skin like a butterflies touch, catching my gaze from across the room only to smile at me, to just be near me.
His lips were then pressed against my cheek before breaking away and going to his side of the bed. The sheets rustled under his movement as he peeled back the bedding and slipped under it. I moved to get under the sheets as well but froze as I turned. It somehow slipped my mind about his sleeping habits and how he used to sleep in only nightwear pants that hung low on his hips. His back was turned towards me as he reached over to place his shirt on a nightstand beside the table.
Silently getting other the covers and laying down, I couldn't help but reach over and have my fingertips graze over the abused flesh. He flinched like I hurt him and I flinched back in return.
“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, keeping my hands close to my chest.
He looked over his shoulder at me, ruby eyes dimly lit against the warm light. His features seemed warmer as well, he almost seemed to be kissed by the sun and not the pale vampire people are used to. I looked away from him, ashamed by my actions as I focused on watching the ceiling. My gaze snapped back to him as his fingers brushed against my cheekbone. He was now on his back, propped up by his forearms,
“It’s okay. You can touch it.”
That was all he said before he turned and exposed his back to me once more. I stared at his back wide eyed, not believing what was happening. Even in my true life, I had never dared to touch his scars. They told a story that I believe he would rather hide and ignore cause they serve as a reminder. Only a few people know about the scars and even then, they never bring it up so I didn’t either.
Shifting closer to him, I was meer inches away from his back as the tips of my fingers gently traced the part of a ritual carved onto his delicate skin. Mysterious word that I could not read regardless of knowing the purpose it served. A few minutes of silence passed as I traced his past with such a gentle touch. I was afraid that touching too hard would break him even when his tormentor was gone, he never really left. He lurked in the shadows of the halls, taunting Astarion. There were a handful of times I could remember Astarion breaking out into a cold sweat from seeing a figure in the corner of his eye, a scent that was too familiar, a phrase being said came from the mouth of a ghost. During those times, Astarion would lock himself away from the world and it was only once that I was able to enter the room and what I had found broke me into a million pieces.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the memory to fade away into the recesses of my mind. I sighed through my nose, pressing my forehead to his back as my hand draped around his waist. In an instant, his hand laid atop mine, squeezing it. Perhaps he was imagining a life without the freedom he has obtained, a life where he was never captured by the absolute, a life where he never pressed a knife to my throat, a life where none of this ever happened. Perhaps he imagined all that and squeezed my hand to remember that this was all real.
Perhaps I should’ve said something to him but I didn’t. Not as sleep dug its claws into my skin and pulled me under.
Word Count: 3966
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whathebeep · 4 months
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Can I just say like,,, obviously my brain is always thinking about Baldur's Gate 3 and narratively how it could continue for a BG4 (I know I'm getting ahead of myself here) BUT
There's so many characters that could make comebacks in the game and I am so here for it. In my mind, under the cut, here's the top contenders for returning characters (other than obviously Volo, Jaheira and Minsc) (Late game Spoilers included!!)
So first and foremost our fav Archdruid Halsin! The fact that he goes back and rebuilds the shadowlands village and builds it up as a community means so much. It means you could go there in BG4 and meet Halsin, the community leader, the wise Archdruid who runs the orphanage. Whether or not he is actually the leader directly or just a respected community member and advisor to the leader of the town/village (depending on how big it grows) would both be good narrative choices. You could listen in on him tell stories of the adventures he has with the PC from BG3 to the kids. Hell you could probably meet Thaniel while in the area if you're a druid/have a high enough nature skill. There's so many possibilities for this and I adore it so much.
There's a lot of the characters you could also meet there too, who so happened to either have settled down there or are only passing through, visiting an old friend.
Astarion of course you could meet either ending route for him! Either as an adventurer (maybe travelling with Shadowheart?) Or as a vampire lord ruling in Baldur's Gate, out of Cazador's old estate. He would probably keep the vampire secret from you as he's a spawn l, but perhaps if he comes to trust you he'll let you know. Perhaps he'll even direct you to a safe spot in the Underdark to rest your head. Whether or not he tells you it's all spawn would be up to choice. If he's a vampire lord I imagine he'll be very Strahd/Cazador like, and will either want you to be a spawn for him or will want to kill/manipulate you into doing his bidding. Either way he'd probably be a boss fight
Shadowheart as an adventurer as well (again potentially travelling with Astarion, or having settled down) but HEAR ME OUT. I love LOVE the idea of A Selune worshipper Shadowheart eventually returning to revitalize the Selune temple you see early game and starting up a village there. Hells.or even Isobel and Dame Aylin doing that and Shadowheart eventually making a home there.. I'M HERE FOR IT
Lae'zel ofc, but they'd have to have a strong reason for her to return to the material plane. Maybe she would, after defeating the bitch I MEAN Lich Queen.
Gale maybe as an Elminster type character? Like it would be different depending on what ending for him is considered "canon", but either god of ambition or teacher will work super super well for this. He could offer the position of his chosen to the PC cause let's be real that's basically your thing no matter if you're good or evil, or he could be a wise wizard who can give safe advice to you or just bump into you on your travels.
UGH there's just so many options and I love it
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blackjackkent · 1 month
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what do you think wouldve happened in an alternate universe where hector let karlach become a mind flayer?
(A/N after writing this whole answer: whoops, this got out of hand, hope you're okay with an Unexpected Fic. XD Also maybe a smidge weird/dark at the end, although not a ton I hope? Certainly no more than the whole game is weird/dark. XD Anyway I hope you enjoy. <3 )
Ohhhhhhhhh.
Anon, I love you for asking me this question. <3 A very intriguing one!
And it is because I love you for asking me this question that I have braved looking up a video of Karlach actually becoming a mind flayer, which I had put off doing because I am a softheart and I knew it would hurt and also make Hector yell in my head. XD And when Hector yells in my head it's a whole thing because he does double Flurry of Blows against the inside of my skull for 140damage and it's rough enough in there already.
However! I have now watched it and done some thinks. (Hot damn, Lae'zel is MAD too, at least in the version of the scene I watched. The whole thing is very upsetting.)
Fundamentally it would be a tragedy, and not just for Karlach. Watching the way the scenes play out - there is just enough of Karlach in her speech that Hector would not want to disconnect from her. I think perhaps it touches on the same hope that kept him expecting a miracle for her heart right up until the end of the game - somehow, somehow we can make this work, somehow we will find a way...
But there is no way. This is who she is now, a creature of the Astral Sea with his love's voice and an empty place where her soul should be. And unlike the engine situation he can't even kiss her to make himself feel better because she looks like a squid.
-----
The one saving grace is, I suppose, she does seem happy enough. In the epilogue, she states that she has found a way to get brains to eat by consuming from terminally ill patients at a clinic in Baldur's Gate, people who have volunteered for the process because they are about to die anyway. And she talks about helping all of them live on by absorbing their memories and carrying them with her.
It's... sweet, in a way, Hector supposes.
He tries to keep busy. There's no battle in Avernus to occupy him in this timeline, so he primarily works with Jaheira and her kids on rebuilding. It's hard, physical work; it keeps his mind occupied. At first he sleeps at the Elfsong; later, after some nudging from Rion, Jaheira offers him lodging at her home, where he takes a hand in raising the latest crop of orphan children she is protecting. He sees Baldur's Gate start to bandage its wounds and begins to believe there was some purpose to all his struggle.
But his own wounds do not heal so easily.
He visits the clinic often. He and Karlach talk. Her voice is a slow near-monotone in her accent, unlike anything he ever heard from her before. Sometimes he can hear a twinge of her humor or a turn or phrase, and his heart leaps... but other times she speaks of things like destiny and infinite time in a way that reminds him more of the Emperor than the woman he loves.
She never laughs. She doesn't curse. There is never even the slightest mention of sex; though she still fully understands a double entendre when he makes one experimentally, she seems to take no interest in it. She seems to exist slightly beyond him, with a view of the world that is no longer of the Material Plane.
And yet... she does know him. She remembers everything - stories he told her of his childhood in the monastery, details of Selunite rituals she learned from him, quiet moments in camp he half-forgot himself. She still calls him Soldier, and sometimes Hec. She remembers her own parents; she remembers the city. There is just enough of her still in there... just enough for it to squeeze his heart.
----
One day she walks (well, floats) with him to the Singing Lute; she sits with him while he eats. They talk about the rebuilding; he points out from the balcony some of the new homes he has worked on. She is quiet for a long time. "It is good to see the place begin to live again," she says, in that strange cool slow voice that has replaced the old jocular drawl. "It's what it was all for."
He nods. "Do you regret it? Any of it?" Do you remember what we had? What we've lost?
"How could I, Soldier? The city still lives. You still live." A long pause. The old Karlach might have laughed sardonically, but there is no humor. "Even I still live, and I have grown beyond myself. What is there to regret?"
It sits like a rock in his stomach. If she is content, what more can he ask for? And yet it hurts... it hurts...
-----
Jaheira notices that he begins to withdraw back into himself, that he is quieter and more serious. She mentions it to Gale, on one of his visits to the city from Waterdeep.
"You're not wrong there," Gale agrees. "You weren't around yet, when we knew him fresh off the nautiloid. He was much more careful, then. Very controlled. The very picture of monastic stoicism - in between the panicked realization that we were all undergoing a supreme nightmare that never ended, of course. He lightened up, over the months - certainly by the time you knew him."
Jaheira purses her lips. "And this... he is returning to his old ways, you believe?"
"I don't think it would be unreasonable to assume," Gale says, with a sort of bleak humor, "that Karlach is no longer providing the same amount of compensatory levity that she used to."
-----
In the end, almost two years later, Lae'zel is the only one who speaks to him of it directly, and she is brutal - but effective.
"You have been hollowed out, she'lak," she says bluntly, on one of her rare visits from the Astral Plane. "It is a lessening of you. Do you still trail after your ghaik as if bound to her by a lead?"
"I have done much in the city since you left," Hector says, somewhat defensively.
"Chk. I do not speak of your body's business, k'chakhi. I speak of your mind. Your heart. You have lost yourself. You live only for others."
"As I was raised to do. As I have always done."
"Hector." She rarely speaks his name directly, but she does now, and it makes him jump. "You know of what I speak, and I will not have you ignore it. Your work in the city is admirable. You have cause for pride and contentment. Yet you pine after Karlach as if you hope to find her in the shell wearing her voice."
"She's still in there, Lae'zel."
"You mislead yourself," she spits. "Was it not you who taught me the strength to look beyond mindless devotion?"
That stings, and unconsciously he stands up a little straighter. "This is not mindless. It has been earned," he objects.
"Tas'ki. She is ghaik," Lae'zel says flatly. "What remains of her will dwindle, day by day. You know this as well as I." A pause. Then her eyes soften, and her voice with it. "You do not honor her sacrifice by this emptiness, Hector. Nor do you honor yourself."
He says nothing. His lips draw into a tight line. He hears her, and he does not want to.
"Think on what I tell you," she says - for all the world, now, as if she is the wise mentor and he the student in need of guidance. "You are no fool. You know I speak truth. Do not discount it."
-----
It takes a long time, but he does eventually start to come back to himself. Ten years. Twenty years. He grows old, though he loses none of his strength, his training too ingrained to allow him to weaken with age. The city reforms, stronger than ever, and he slowly begins to learn what life is, outside of both monastery and war.
He teaches self-defense to the children Jaheira rescues and others in the Lower City. He learns to (very badly) play a lute at Alfira's school. He tries his hand as a woodworker after so much carpentry work in the rebuilding of the Gate; one day, with some pride, he gifts Halsin a raggedly carved owl in return for the duck. He travels with Shadowheart several times to the House of the Moon in Waterdeep, reaffirming his faith in the light that has guided him through so much darkness.
And he reads voraciously. Everything he can get his hands on, from every library in the city. There is far more knowledge in the world, he comes to learn, than the particular cache with which he grew up.
He visits Karlach less, over time. And Lae'zel was right - there is less and less left of her each time he sees her. She is drifting away from him. And slowly he comes to terms with that - that what they had was a wonderful thing and a fleeting thing that will never come back to him. He learns to live for them both, for the life she would have had with him, had there been time.
He does not love again, though. He lived his whole life devoid of romance before he knew her, and he has little interest in trying to find it again in the years that remain to him.
For the most part, he moves on, and eventually finds himself relatively happy. But there is one last concession to sentimentality and to everything he has lost.
-----
On one bright, cold afternoon in mid-autumn, many years after the Netherbrain has faded into a bleak memory, he goes to the clinic. She is there, much as she always is; she has not seemed to age much in all these years, though the tentacles are slightly longer, a bit more nuanced in their movement.
He, though, is old; the grey dappling in his hair and beard has faded to white. His body acts as strong as ever, but time is implacable; he knows, as she once did, that he has very little left. It is a strange thing - a weakness of spirit rather than flesh, old age's deeper destruction that even the most disciplined monk cannot stave off forever. He is not dying, but he would be dead soon, likely within a few tendays.
"Hector," she says, flat and cool and almost unrecognizable, and inclines her head at him slightly. "You have settled everything?"
"Everything," he says quietly.
"You are still certain it is time?"
"Yes."
"Then we will begin." She gestures him to a secluded corner of the clinic, with a comfortable chair set up for the purpose. He settles himself there and looks up at the clinic's cracked stone ceiling and waits.
"It has been a good life," he comments, as much to himself as to her, as he waits for her to approach. "Lae'zel was right, that I had to move on. I have done much, seen much. I am proud of what we achieved - all of us."
There's a long, expectant silence. Then he leans his head back, closes his eyes. "I never stopped loving you, you know," he adds softly.
"I know," she answers, and her jaws sink into his skull.
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all-pacas · 5 months
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BG3 EPILOGUE STUFF
since i had a save from just before the final battle and, for one, had been dying for details all afternoon: this is from a game where i was durge and romanced astarion.
It's in the slightly random order of "who I happened to talk to in whatever order."
MINSC: Taking his job of "working with" the Guild seriously, and shows up to the party with a random thief he had been in the middle of dangling from a high tower. Says he visits Astarion a lot, but that Astarion keeps accidentally forgetting to tell him when he moves. You can ask him if there are others from the first Bhaal crisis left alive, because you're studying it.
OWLBEAR CUB: Been having fun fighting! You can suggest he settle down with Halsin or Shadowheart (I picked Halsin) and he's very excited.
SHADOWHEART: Says she's almost surprised you came; you can joke "what, just because I don't have a butler anymore?" and she says she was worried, but is glad to see that old memories haven't kept you away. She's found a little cottage in the country and is having a nice time living peacefully. Her parents are doing well, and her mother is teaching her to cook. She also has EVERY SINGLE pet she can find. Just gone from full goth princess to cottagecore.
You can tell her that you went Candlekeep to research Bhaalspawn history, and you agree you'll keep in more proactive touch.
JAHEIRA: The Bhaal temple is still standing, but she assures you it's empty, thanks to you. Jord has joined the Harpers, and Rion has rejoined the Flaming Fist, and is spending her time bullying them. Jaheira is mildly/proudly worried they'll kick her out. Again. She's wrangling Harpers and working to rebuilt Baldur's Gate. She asks if you plan on starting a family of your own, and you can tell her that you plan on letting Bhaal's line die with you.
VOLO: He's writing a tell-all, and says he's gotten very good at faking your signature for the disclosures. He wants to call it "The Hero and Me," and you can suggest "The Bhaalspawn 2." He doesn't think you should think of yourself as a mere sequel.
KARLACH: "I've missed you, you old Bhaalspawn. Oh - do you not want to me to call you the B-word any more?" You can joke that your "army" is bath salts and scented candles, tell her that everyone slips up from time to time, or brag about not thinking about it AND not killing anyone in six months. The answer I picked: "I see my blood not as a curse, but a duty. I have been studying Bhaal, so I can fight him, if his cult ever strikes again."
Karlach and Wyll have been having a lot of fun fighting and surviving hell. She feels a lot better, and tells you about their plan to heist a new heart for herself. You promise to meet up again.
WYLL: Mizora hasn't been bothering him much, sending him after legitimate demons and evils. She's set him on a new mission he doesn't know the details of, but apparently his target is a devil. He's happy to be traveling with Karlach. He's been able to visit Baldur's Gate and his father a few times, and dad's doing well, leading the city and rebuilding. No Bhaalspawn talk.
HALSIN: He's still hanging out in the former Shadowlands, and Moonrise has been torn down to make new houses. He gives you a wooden duck. No Bhaalspawn talk.
LAE'ZEL: Is just on her full YA Youth Hero phase. Has been fighting and leading and just being super cool, allying with the githzerai. She's currently a dipomat, and you can be like "lol, seriously?" She's amused and says you taught her that diplomacy and words are as sometimes as important as a blade. She's clearly joking around a bit (she calls herself bossy and that it's her charm), but as deadpan as ever.
GALE: HE'S A PROFESSOR, school of illusion. As a sorceror, you can say you're surprised he's only teaching one school, and he agrees and admits he offered to teach them all, before being told he had to pick one. He talks about how much he likes illusion and imagination, and so now I feel like I have to make him illusionist in my runs. He gave the Crown to Mystra, and feels great relief to have the Orb gone. He clearly really, really loves teaching and spends his time trying to make his students love magic as much as he does. He complains they sleep a lot, and Tara butts in to call them cheeky and offers to swipe them.
He asks what you're up to, and you can joke you're napping and thinking of becoming a massage therapist — he jokes that he's glad you found a new career, but maybe leave off your "neck snapping" past when meeting clients. Gale offers you a "guest lecturer" spot, and you can remark that "the healing of my cranial trauma would be a prime case study for the school of Evocation." Gale invites you to stay in his — SORRY, TARA, OUR — tower.
TARA: YOU CAN PSPSPSPSPSP TARA. She does not deign to respond. She asks if you're the one who helped Gale with the Absolute, and if you politely say that Gale helped you, she doubts it very much — obviously he's the hero. She then invites you to visit them, and if you accuse her of having no respect for the "co-savior of Faerun," she retorts that she's here, isn't she? Before dismissing you.
ASTARION: He's happy all your friends are well, but hesitates on joining the socializing himself, because he's just so good at "skulking." He says he doesn't want to hog you because he gets you all the time.
LETTERS: (This was not a 100% completion game.)
Art is rapidly declining, his age catching up to him. He doesn't have long to live, but is happy and content seeing the Shadowlands cured.
Duke Ravengard does not even mention Wyll in his letter.
Arabella is being trained by Elminster! Love that for her.
The Gur write their letter to Astarion specifically, saying they've been keeping an eye on him and admire his restraint and control over his bloodlust.
THERE'S A LETTER FROM ALFIRA ahaha. I did the Durge Savescum to save her, and her letter basically goes: Yeah, I heard you're a Bhaalspawn? I saw murder in your eyes whenever you looked at me, and I'm glad you're doing well, but I'm not going to tell you where I am now. Thank you for sparing me! Bye!
Barcus Wroot has the single most Barcus Wroot letter of all time. "Withers gave me this address and said I could consider writer. Well, I considered it. Return address included. Best, Barcus Wroot." I love him so much.
Dammon 100000% has a crush on Karlach. His letter is basically: "Are you still alive? I think of you all the time. Will you write to me? Yours faithfully." Omg.
Nocturne is in a new Sharran cloister, but she hopes Shadowheart is well and wonders if maybe one day she'll also be brave enough to leave.
ROLAN DID NOT WRITE ME, woowwwww
CONCLUSIONS:
Durge gets two threads: I am living in a spa, and I am spending my time researching Bhaal. Or maybe both!
Wyll and Karlach definitely seem to be hinting towards some kind of DLC, with Wyll's new devil target and the whole heist situation. Withers also has an unreadable note on his desk with Hints Of Important Things.
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orithereticent · 29 days
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I genuinly find it very funny that Gale just so happens to get yoinked from Waterdeep just before the events of Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, I like to think that as soon as he gets back to Waterdeep, this is now a problem for him to solve.
Like, imagine you're Gale, you get home from saving Baldur's Gate if not all of Faerun. Perhaps you've found a lover (in my mind, Astarion because that is the funniest option), or perhaps not, regardless, you've made a group of lifelong friends.
You get home, (taking Yenna and Grub with you, and picking up Arabella because they are like 8 and they are not living on their own.)
and
fucking Volo contacts you to say "Old friend (who's eye I may or may not have taken) I need some assistance."
and Volo, the godsdamned lunitic, has somehow involved himself in the disgraced open lord of Waterdeeps son being kidnapped.
So now you're contacting your friends (Karlach and Wyll are back from Avernus after fixing Karlach's heart, and they've adopted a little girl??? Okay cool. Shadowheart and Lae'zel, for some reason you don't understand, live on a farm with Shadowhearts parents, Scrach, and the Owlbear. they also have a son now... kay. Halsin says sure, he's been living in the woods with a bunch of orphans, this does not suprise you at all. Jaheira and Minsc are in Baldur's Gate with Jaheira's family, attempting to rebuild, this is also unsuprising. Astarion is living in your house, so you know what he's been up to, which is to say he's been up to shenanigans with you, the two girls who now live with you, the cat, and Tara.)
Volo has given you a tavern... that he had for some reason.
You are now running a tavern with your friends while there's a gang war in Waterdeep.
You are Gale, and you just want a nap godsdamned it.
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