Chapter Text
When you had awoken on the beach following the Nautiloid crash, the last thing you imagined happening was to be reunited with Astarion.
Not that he recognized you, of course.
And after traveling with him for awhile, his animosity towards you made it clear that it wasn’t safe for you to reveal your identity to him either.
After all, how would you even begin to explain the twists and turns of fate that led you to finally tracking him down? How you had spent over 170 years thinking he was dead? How you had recently discovered that all you thought you knew about his death was wrong? And how you finally had set out on a journey to avenge him, only to find yourself snatched away by Mindflayers the very same night you caught a glimpse of him again?
Would he even believe that?
Would he forgive you?
You didn’t think it was possible. Not with the resentment he held in his heart towards “heroes” of all sorts.
Your heroics especially seemed to irritate him. Any time you lent a hand or even an ear, you could hear his scoffing in the background. It broke your heart each time, because you knew it was well justified. He had told you so himself.
No one had helped him. No one had come for him.
So watching you do good for others?
Jealousy wasn’t a strong enough word for that sort of emotion.
And when you had caught him trying to feed on you that one night? Anger had been the furthest thing from your mind. Try as he might to compose himself, you had seen his fear, his anxiety. Something had gotten to him. And while you knew you couldn’t comfort him like you had so desperately wanted to, the least you could do was trust him. So trust him you did.
You vowed to yourself, and your god, then and there - renewing your oath. You would protect him. At all costs. And you would help him get his vengeance. Nothing else mattered.
You knew it was your fault he had been alone for so long. You should have searched for him sooner. You should have done something years ago. You could have…
Your thoughts were interrupted as Astarion took a seat down beside you, offering you a glass of wine.
It had been roughly a tenday since the crash. You had just finished clearing out the goblin encampment, and the tieflings had all gathered at your camp to celebrate. While you appreciated their gratitude, you slipped away at the first opportunity, choosing instead to gaze over the lake and reflect on your choices.
Your involvement with the tieflings was yet another thing you had done that you knew would drive a further wedge between you and Astarion. He had not at all been pleased when you so readily offered up your services to Halsin.
“Just leave them to their fate. This doesn’t concern us,” he had griped. But you had gritted your teeth and ignored him.
It hadn’t escaped your notice that he still covered for you, albeit grumbling all the way. But you knew as things were, your alliance was strained. And despite swearing to yourself that you’d protect him, you couldn’t help but feel like you were failing abysmally when he trusted you so little.
“You’re brooding,” Astarion said, breaking the silence and interrupting your thoughts again.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, taking a sip of the wine he had given you. It burned as it slid down your throat, but at least it served as an adequate distraction.
“I’m surprised to see you all by yourself. I thought heroes liked the attention,” he asked, barely concealing the venom in his voice. He was goading you.
“I’m no hero,” you replied, laughing at yourself and taking another sip of your drink.
“Could have fooled me. You are a paladin aren’t you? Isn’t that sort of part of the package deal?”
“Maybe for some,” you hummed, acknowledging the truth in his words, “But not for me.”
“Oh? Well, this sounds like a good story,” he taunted, settling himself down, fixing you with that mischievous grin. There was no playfulness to his voice this time however. He was out for blood, metaphorically. At least for now.
“Are you asking about my oath?” you asked, with a sigh and a twinge of pain in your heart. How you wished you could tell him the full truth. But now was not the time. He was agitated. Perhaps rescuing all those helpless tieflings was just a bridge too far for him.
“I suppose I am.”
“Then I suppose I’ll tell you,” you sighed again, taking another sip of your wine as you decided on just how much of your truth to reveal.
“I had a friend once,” you began focusing your eyes on your wine glass, “My best friend. He was everything to me. Charming, funny, loyal. I could always count on him. He always knew what to say. Always had my back. Our relationship wasn’t romantic or anything like that, but I loved him with my whole heart all the same. And I’m certain he loved me too. But,” you paused, bracing yourself, “he was taken from me much too soon. We were elves. We should have had centuries together. Centuries of adventures. Only…we didn’t. I spent decades grieving that loss and trying to find a new purpose. I trained as a fighter for awhile, just to get that rage out. Recently though, I learned the truth surrounding his death. And that’s when I took my vow,” you paused, half expecting Astarion to interrupt you again, but he remained silent and you were too scared to look his way.
“I’m going to avenge him,” you continued, “And I’m going to offer that same protection and vengeance to anyone else in need. I’m not going to let what happened to him happen to anyone else. Not as long as I’m alive. So…that is why I helped the tieflings.”
The continued silence made you nervous, and you chanced a glance at Astarion who was no longer staring at you as though you were his next meal. No, his gaze was now focused on the moon, and he seemed lost in his own thoughts. His expression had softened since you had started talking, and he no longer looked cold and calculating as when he had first approached you. If you didn’t know any better, you may have thought he was smiling.
But that was impossible, you told yourself, he despised you.
“Astarion?”
“You know,” he replied, turning to you with a grin, “I think I underestimated you. You’re far more interesting than I gave you credit for.”
“Oh?” The softness in his voice caught you off guard.
“Who would have thought you were fueled by bitterness and rage like the rest of us,” he teased as he stood to leave, wiping down his pants.
“I told you I wasn’t a hero,” you replied as you watched him, hope flittering in your chest.
“You know, I was considering trying to go my own way, but I think I’ll stick around for a while. Just to see how things turn out. Goodnight, darling,” he said, bowing playfully before leaving you alone once again.
You watched his back as he disappeared into the darkness, likely off to find a meal and escape the rest of the celebrations. An unconscious smile had spread over your face. For the briefest of moments, you felt as though you had your friend back. Your beloved. You hadn’t been this happy in centuries.
And while he still had no idea who you were, your story appeared to have struck a chord with him. Perhaps because he could sense your sincerity, or maybe just because he now considered you “useful”. You realized it didn’t matter to you.
So long as you could stay by his side, you didn’t care.