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Baldur’s Gate certainly has its appeal, even for a vampire spawn. While Astarion can no longer walk around in the daylight, he can at least walk around as a free man during the night. And now that the Absolute has fallen, and now that the city is lively with a vigorous– and often hedonistic– energy, the setting suits his roguish sensibility.
Yet…
Despite the fact that he has lived here practically his whole life, it doesn’t feel right to stay.
Perhaps it makes sense, given all he has been through. Hardly any of his traveling companions have bothered to stay in Baldur’s Gate– and even those who do, often find themselves venturing off to other lands out of duty or simply out of a sense of adventure. Besides, it’s not like has particularly fond memories of the city before he was infected with the illithid parasite.
Astarion likes the city’s constant noise and bustle, and the vibrant markets and abundance of expert craftspeople. But strangely he finds he craves how the starry night sky looks without light pollution, and how the solitude of a forest or beach is so peaceful.
Gods above. He has a sneaking suspicion that a certain wood elf druid had something to do with his sudden appreciation of nature, the bastard.
Well. He did promise the oaf that he would visit. He might as well keep his word. He can always return to Balder’s Gate once he is sick of roughing it.
The road to Reithwin is significantly less difficult now that the shadow curse is lifted and the war is won. Even with his newly-instated spawn condition, Astarion does not face many hardships on his journey. He simply travels during the night, or ventures into the Underdark when necessary. The few foolish brigands he meets on his journey may have gotten in a good stab or two, but it is always Astarion who walks away mostly unscathed– and if he is lucky, with a belly full of fresh blood. He may not have the most unambiguous moral compass, but at least he only feeds when someone attacks him first. Fair is only fair.
The sun has just set when he reaches a cliffside that overlooks a valley in Reithwin. Astarion eyes widen as he gazes upon it; though there is still much to be healed from the shadow curse, it is astonishing just how far the land has come in so little time. Luscious green pine trees have already sprouted, and the scurry of woodland creatures rustle in the many berry bushes that line the overgrown dirt pathways. He can even hear the chirping of birds and the buzzing of cicadas and grasshoppers.
A loud growl comes from behind him. He rolls his eyes with a smile.
“Now, is that any way to say hello to a guest?” He asks, turning around with his arms crossed.
A massive brown bear approaches him on two hind legs. There is a bright yellowish light, and then the bear is replaced by a massive brown elf. Halsin, as handsome and muscular as ever, smiles down at Astarion and pulls him into a tight embrace.
“I assure you that if you could speak with animals, you would think my greeting appropriate,” Halsin says.
Astarion allows the embrace for a moment before pushing the druid away. “Yes, well. I’m afraid you will have to translate.”
“Welcome, my old friend,” Halsin says amicably. “It is lovely to see you.”
Astarion smirks, but inclines his head. “The same to you, darling.”
“Are you just passing through? Or will you stay awhile?” Halsin asks eagerly.
Astarion studies his nails. “I’ve grown bored of the city. But I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”
Halsin grins. “Then I must be a good host, in order to make you want to stay. Come– I’ll show you around, shall I?”
With another sudden flash of yellow light, Halsin turns back into his bear form on all fours. He noses at Astarion’s legs with his wet snout.
“You can’t be serious,” Astarion scoffs.
Halsin huffs and noses at him again.
“Oh, for the love of… Fine .”
Halsin lowers himself as close to the ground as possible. Tentatively, Astarion gets on top of him, digging his fingers into soft fur. “If I fall, I will turn you into a rug,” he mutters in warning.
Halsin snorts happily, and raises himself on his paws to trot down the cliff at a leisurely pace.
***
Halsin remains in his bear form as they approach a village. People wave as they pass by, evidently used to Halsin’s alternative animal appearance.
“You provide a good distraction,” Astarion murmurs. “A big beast like you and the villagers pay no mind to the questionably-pale elf riding it.”
Halsin snorts again, and it almost sounds like a laugh.
Whether it is in his nature as one of Cazador’s victims, or whether it is because of his days of the illithid parasite in his brain– perhaps a wonderful combination of the two –Astarion does not entirely let his guard down. Even if the shadow curse has been lifted, he senses a danger lurking in the surrounding wilderness. At the same time, there is a secure lightness to the village– evident in the repaired cottages now teeming with life, and the warmth of the streetlamps lining the recobbled streets.
Last Light Inn is nearly as bustling as Elfsong Tavern. Once an eerie outpost for the last defense against Ketheric, it is now a social base acting as it should be– a refuge for weary workers looking for a bit of fun, and a communal space for friends to convene. It is here that Halsin finally returns to his elf form. He playfully nudges Astarion with one of his ridiculously muscled arms.
“Come,” he says. “I shall buy you a drink.”
“Make it three, and I’m in.”
Halsin chuckles and ushers him inside with a gentle hand to his lower back. Astarion barely flinches at the touch. Several of the patrons seated at the bar and booths raise their drinks with jovial shouts in greeting. Halsin grins, a bit sheepish, and waves back. The barkeep automatically pours two mugs of frothy ale upon their appearance, and slides them over to Halsin.
He and Astarion settle themselves at a table on the second level, away from the more boisterous activity of the tavern.
“So tell me,” Halsin says after they’ve both taken a sip of their beer. “What brings you so far from the city?”
“It’s not so far,” Astarion says, sticking up his nose. “I suppose I just needed a bit of… fresh air.”
Halsin grins. “I can understand that. You have come to the right place. Nature is recovering here. It is most exciting.”
“Yes, I cannot wait to watch the grass grow,” Astarion deadpans.
Halsin chuckles. “I know you jest, yet such simple pleasures are the stuff of life, are they not?”
“You really just like sitting around doing nothing, don’t you?”
Halsin shrugs. “I like being in nature, and enjoying all it has to offer. Even if I am still and silent– it does not mean I am doing nothing.”
Astarion smirks. “Fair enough.”
“What about you, my friend? What have you been getting up to in the city?”
“Nothing much,” Astarion shrugs. “I thought about becoming a magistrate, since that was what I was before I was turned… But it seems so utterly boring , to be honest. Not to mention, the logistics of… my condition .”
Halsin nods. “Your situation is exciting, I think. Figuring out who you want to be, now that you have the freedom to choose.”
“Exciting is one word for it,” Astarion murmurs.
“Scary is another word,” Halsin says seriously, as if he understands. “But do not give into your fear, Astarion. You must pursue what interests you– what feels meaningful.”
Astarion snorts. “You make it sound so easy.”
Halsin takes a sip of ale and briefly covers the hand Astarion has resting on the table with his own. “It is not easy. But it is necessary.”
Astarion sighs, and gently retracts his hand as he takes a sip of his own beer. “Enough of this tedious talk. Tell me the village gossip.”
Halsin laughs, his voice deep and booming. “I shall need another ale before my lips are loosened.”
“Better drink up then, bear.”
***
While it is delightful to discover that Halsin is indeed a light-weight, it is equally disappointing that he really has nothing juicy to say about any of his fellow villagers. He does at least become a little bit more handsy and a little bit more flirty after his third beer.
Still, he somehow remains gentlemanly enough not to pursue anything more… intimate with Astarion.
When the barkeep announces last call, he simply pats Astarion’s shoulder. “Come. If you are comfortable with it, I have a spare bed in my cottage.”
“Aw,” Astarion purrs. “I will be so cold and lonesome in a bed of my own.”
Halsin smiles, though his brow furrows. “The blankets are made from the wool of the sheep I tend to. They will keep you warm.”
Astarion feels simultaneously relieved and utterly rejected at his neutral response.
Upon exiting the tavern, the two of them stumble along the cobblestone paths. Unsurprisingly, Halsin’s ivy-covered cottage is on the outskirts of the village, surrounded by forest on one side and a babbling brook on the other.
“You’re like a fairytale princess,” Astarion grumbles.
Halsin laughs. “I don’t think anyone has called me a princess before.”
Astarion raises an eyebrow. “In over three hundred years? Somehow I doubt that.”
Halsin blushes. “Perhaps you’re right. It is a rare occurrence, at least.”
Astarion laughs. “Mmm, that is a delicious bit of trivia.” He shivers, and pushes Halsin inside. “Move, in the name of your precious Oak Father. It’s damned cold out here.”
Halsin frowns at the invocation of his god, but lets himself be pushed inside his home.
Astarion watches him, his shoulders slumped with shame as he remains frozen in the doorway.
Halsin turns, and realizes his mistake. He reaches out to hold Astarion’s hand. “Please. Come inside, my dear friend. You are always welcome in my home.”
“Thanks,” Astarion mutters, stepping forward now that he has been formally invited in.
The cottage is cozy, filled with lively green plants and the smell of herbs; everything is as Astarion expected. Halsin is quick to light the hearth while Astarion settles down on the daybed tucked to the wall next to a large window.
“I will need to wake early to attend to some village matters,” Halsin says quietly as he draws the curtains on all the windows. “But please sleep in as much as you need. The cellar has a pathway to the Underdark in case you need to travel during the daytime.”
“I’ve survived long enough on my own,” Astarion reminds him.
“I know,” Halsin says. “But I wish for you to do more than just survive. Goodnight, Astarion.”
Astarion frowns. “Goodnight.”
With that, Halsin retires to his bedroom.
Astarion pulls a soft wool blanket over himself. It takes a while for him to fall asleep, but once he does– it is restful, and without dreams, nor even nightmares.
***
Although technically Astarion is not on a timeline, he did not expect to stay in the village so long.
And although the village nightlife does not even compare to that of Baldur’s Gate, it does at least provide the aspects of the city that he does enjoy. A lively tavern. A burgeoning market. A diversity of residents.
After Halsin introduces him to some of the other villagers, he finds himself put to work as a sort of assistant city planner. It is a foreign occupation to him, for sure– yet he finds it strangely satisfying figuring out how the village should be set up in a way that eases travel and trade, and to determine how a community could be best protected from outsiders yet still welcoming enough to encourage newcomers to stop by.
He has a sense of purpose. He does not know when, if ever, he has before.
He continues staying with Halsin, always sleeping on the daybed. Halsin never attempts to… escalate things between them, and nor does Astarion.
It is confusing. A part of Astarion feels like he owes Halsin something. A part of him feels like he wants to reward Halsin for his warm hospitality in some way. But he isn’t sure if it is a force of habit, or something else.
One morning, while they’re sharing a pot of tea in Halsin’s small kitchen, Astarion gives into his old habits and presses himself against Halsin.
“Good morning,” he says, purposely emphasizing the raspy quality of his sleep-addled voice.
“Good morning,” Halsin says good-naturedly, pointedly breaking their physical contact.
Astarion frowns. “What’s wrong?”
Halsin sets down his mug of tea. “Right now, I am your healer, and your friend. I fear becoming your lover would be crossing a line.”
Astarion scowls. “I am not some fragile thing. Why don’t you ask me what I want before you jump to conclusions?”
Halsin’s small smile is sad. “Alright. What do you want?”
“I want you to fuck me, obviously.”
Halsin nods. “I see.”
“What?” Astarion sneers.
Halsin sighs. “As much as I would like to grant your desire, my friend… I would also like it if you would ask me what I want, too.”
Astarion feels what little blood he has running through his veins grow cold. “Oh. You don’t want this.”
Halsin shakes his head.
“Fine.”
Halsin smiles, but his hazel eyes are still sad. “Please do not misunderstand. I want you here,” he says gently. “I meant what I said– you are always welcome in my home, Astarion.”
“Mm, much appreciated, darling,” Astarion drawls, forcing himself back into his usual coquettish facade. He does not meet Halsin’s eyes as they quietly finish the rest of the tea.
***
Weeks– months –go by. The village is thriving, as is the surrounding nature.
Astarion is fearing he has overstayed his welcome. Halsin has not indicated as much, but surely he did not expect a vampire crashing in his small cottage indefinitely. Besides, Halsin has friends here. It’s rather pathetic that he’s sticking around like a lost bloodthirsty puppy.
After a long day of restoring the local tollhouse, Astarion winces as he stretches his back. Halsin notices, and squeezes him on the arm.
“This is hard work,” he says. “I know I am an old man, but it can really strain one’s muscles no matter one’s age. If you are interested, I can show you some methods so your body won’t get so sore.”
Astarion, too tired to refuse, nods.
He follows Halsin into a grassy clearing inside the forest, where they both sit cross-legged facing each other.
“Follow my lead,” Halsin encourages. He starts simply, with taking deep breaths and slowly moving his arms up as inhales and pressing his palms together at his heart as he exhales. Astarion mimics the movements, even though he feels ridiculous.
“Do not strain yourself,” Halsin says after a few minutes as they get on their hands and knees. “But challenge your body’s limits when you can.”
Astarion rolls his eyes.
But he continues to follow Halsin’s movements as he contorts his body into positions that are increasingly more and more difficult. As strenuous as each pose is, it is as equally satisfying. Astarion often finds himself sighing– or even moaning, gods help him –as he stretches his limbs and cracks his back and alleviates his aching feet.
At the end of it all, Halsin insists they both lie on their back for several long moments.
Astarion furrows his brow. “We’re just supposed to just lie here?”
“Yes,” Halsin exhales happily. “That is my favorite part of this practice. To just lie down, and reap the benefits of all our hard work.”
Astarion snorts but does not argue further. He lets his eyes close, and his body relax.
He does not know when, but at some point they both fall into a deep trance, their chests rising and falling in unison with their heavy, relaxed breaths.
***
It is laughable how late Astarion is to realize that he has feelings for the bear. Real feelings– not just a sense of obligation to someone who has cared for him, or a sense of loyalty for someone who has been there for him since the day they met.
Halsin is just so… good . It is a quality that Astarion didn’t really think existed, but there is no other way to describe the druid. It’s obvious in his dedication to his culture and his joy of taking care of others and the environment. He is funny, always making silly little jokes and laughing easily whenever Astarion teases him. He is not particularly verbose, but when he does speak he is eloquent and clearly chooses his words with deliberation. Astarion feels safe around him, and unjudged– but more than that, he feels warm . Halsin makes him want to be a better person, and Halsin even seems to believe that he can be.
But Halsin has made it quite clear that he values Astarion’s friendship and wants nothing more. And after all the horrible things Astarion has done in his life, he should be grateful Halsin wants to be around him at all.
It is for the best, he knows. There is something broken about him. Halsin deserves better. Even so, a part of him wonders if Halsin could help fix whatever that broken thing is. So on one of their drunken nights at the Light Light Inn he asks Halsin a question he has been putting off for a long time.
“You said you were my healer and friend,” he says.
Halsin raises his eyebrows, but nods. “Of course.”
“Then,” Astarion says quietly. “Can you tell me what is wrong with me?”
Halsin’s warm eyes grow sad again. Astarion wrenches his gaze away, embarrassed once again.
“Whatever do you mean?” Halsin asks in a whisper.
“I have not known… pleasure , I guess you would call it. Not for two hundred years. I’ve fucked thousands of people in my lifetime, but not one experience has brought me anything even remotely resembling pleasure. I don’t even touch myself. I want to, but every time I try, I…” He trails off, swallowing hard.
“Astarion…”
Astarion stands up abruptly. “Forget it.”
“No… Wait.”
Astarion feels a gentle tug at his elbow.
“Please,” Halsin says. “I am glad you are telling me this. Tell me more.”
With an exhausted sigh, Astarion slumps back down in his chair. “I suppose I just… In an ideal world, I’d like a do-over of some sort. I want my body to feel like it’s mine again. I don’t want to feel guilty. I don’t want to feel… dirty .”
Halsin nods. “I think I can help with this.”
Astarion’s eyes flicker to his face. “Really?”
“I will not lie with you,” Halsin clarifies gently. “But still– I think I can help.”
Astarion frowns slightly, but nods. “Okay…”
After they finish their drinks, they walk back to the cottage. Halsin lays out a blanket on the wooden floor and places a couple down pillows on top.
“Undress, and lie down on your back,” Halsin says, his voice a rough whisper.
Astarion frowns– a part of him is still unwilling to follow the druid’s instructions –but he takes off his clothes and lowers himself to the floor, resting his head on the plush pillows. He stares up at the ceiling and in his peripheral vision, he watches as Halsin extinguishes the glowing magic from the orb that hangs overhead so that the only source of light is the soft flickering of candles and the burning embers of the hearth.
“Take deep breaths,” Halsin says. “And when you are ready, close your eyes.”
Astarion breathes in slowly through his nose, and exhales through his mouth. He does this several times until he finally relaxes, and closes his eyes.
“Good,” Halsin praises quietly. “I want you to focus on how your body feels. The way the pillow caresses your head. The heat of the dying fire warming your bare skin…”
Astarion sighs as he listens. Despite lying on the floor, he does feel comfortable. On his next inhale, the scent of the bluebell candles smells stronger with his eyes closed. He also detects that familiar earthy sandalwood scent– Halsin’s scent.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good,” Astarion answers, vaguely surprised at how deep his voice comes out.
He can hear the smile in Halsin's voice when he responds. “Good. I want you to touch yourself now.”
Astarion raises his eyebrows with a smirk, but keeps his eyes closed. “Was this all just a ruse to watch me get off?”
Halsin chuckles. “No, I assure you it is not. When I said to touch yourself– I meant I want you to get reacquainted with your body, from your head to your toes…"
Astarion feels like he is falling into a trance as he continues to listen to Halsin’s quiet instructions. He massages his own head, and carefully runs his fingers through his soft curls. He drags his fingers down his neck, lingering around his collarbone before fondling his chest.
“Oh,” he gasps, feeling his nipples harden.
Halsin hums. “Keep going. But do not touch your arousal just yet.”
Astarion’s lips part in surprise. He hadn’t realized he had gotten hard, so focused on paying attention to the rest of his body. He ignores his cock for now as Halsin requests, instead teasing himself by feeling up his abdominals, and running his fingers across every line of lithe muscle. He presses his hands down his smooth thighs, and briefly hikes up his legs so he can massage his calves and then finally, dig his thumbs into the tense flesh of his arched feet.
“There you go,” Halsin says, pride in his voice. “When you are ready, you may touch wherever you would like. Do whatever feels good. I have placed a vial of oil by your side to aid the process.”
Astarion smirks, and blindly grabs for the vial. “Dirty old bear.”
Halsin chuckles. “I will leave, if you wish.”
Astarion thinks for a moment, and then shakes his head. “Stay. And you can keep… talking.”
Halsin hums again. He is quiet while Astarion fumbles with the vial and pours some of the oil into his hand. At the first stroke, he hisses with unexpected pleasure. As he begins to continuously stroke himself, Halsin speaks again.
“Focus on your pleasure. Think of it as a sort of meditation. Allow whatever thought crosses your mind to ebb and flow, like a small wave crashing to shore. If the thought is pleasing, hold onto it until it floats back to sea. If the thought is not so pleasing, gently push it away.”
For a moment, Astarion’s breath hitches as scenes from his wretched past come to surface. A sweaty body pressed on top of him, pounding inside of him relentlessly. The high-pitched moans of someone who revolts him, screeching in his ear. Cazador’s cruel laughter echoing loudly, a dagger plunging into his bleeding back…
But he remembers Halsin’s words, letting the memories wash over him without letting the panic overwhelm him.
As quickly as the memories appear, they disappear.
And then his mind goes blank. Blissfully blank.
He is back to himself again– back in his body –shuddering as he breathes in the comforting scent of bluebells and fire and earth. His hand is a slick warm reprieve on his aching cock, and for once the building warmth in his belly does not revolt him.
Halsin’s low voice is an anchor, though at some point Astarion isn’t fully conscious of what the druid is saying anymore. He continues to stroke himself, and sooner than he expected he feels his back arch with the impending approach of an orgasm.
“That’s it, Astarion,” he hears Halsin murmur in a moment of lucidity. “Let yourself come.”
Astarion does, groaning as he spills into his hand. His orgasm lasts longer than it usually does– but then again, he can’t remember when he has had a real one not against his will.
When the tingling sensation finally passes, he blinks his eyes open again. Halsin, still standing a fair bit of distance away from him, slowly approaches him with a towel tucked under his arm. He kneels down and hands it to Astarion, a small smile on his face.
“How do you feel?”
“Mmm,” Astarion hums tiredly and wipes himself clean. “Quite good. Should you ever need a new line of work, I’m sure Sharess’ Caress would gladly hire you.”
Halsin chuckles and stands up. “I will leave you to get dressed. I’ll make us some tea in the other room.”
“Sure. And– thank you, Halsin.”
“I am glad to help, my friend.”
He waits until Halsin shuts the door behind him to stretch and find his clothes folded neatly on an armchair. As he dresses, he notes how relaxed and satiated he feels.
Technically, Halsin did not touch him. Astarion wasn’t even thinking about him when he got off. But still– Halsin did help him reach completion. And he watched .
It’s neither the most innocent nor the most salacious encounter Astarion has ever had. Regardless… there was a wholesomeness to it that he has never associated with a sexual act.
But Halsin has made it clear he does not want him. Not in the way Astarion wants him.
With a sigh, Astarion blows out the candles and makes sure the fire has died before he slumps back down on the daybed, where he falls into a restless slumber.
***
Astarion ventures back down into the Underdark, not for the first time since he has arrived in Reithwin. He is gathering precious fungi, useful for both food and alchemy, when he hears the nearly silent pitter-patter of careful feet.
There are two pale undead children he recognizes from the dungeons of Szarr Palace. Fellow vampire spawns, sired and scarred by Cazador himself. It is his first time seeing another spawn since the fall of the Absolute, but it was only a matter of time.
He remains kneeled on the ground, not wanting to spook them.
“Hello, darling ones,” he says. “Are you lost?”
Neither of them speak, eyes wide and clearly uneasy with his presence.
Astarion frowns, unsure of what to say or do. While he did free Cazador’s spawn, he is also partially responsible for the many years of starvation and pain they endured. It is possible that these ones will try to kill him once they get over their initial shock.
Just then, another pale vampire emerges from the shadow of an enormous mushroom.
“Hello, Astarion.”
Astarion gasps. “Sebastian.”
“We meet again,” Sebastian says, his expression neither kind nor cruel– just neutral. Thoughtful. He is just as handsome as Astarion remembers– though his complexion is less sallow and his eyes are more vibrant since he last saw him in the bowels of the palace.
“I am… glad to see you are well, after everything.”
Sebastian nods slowly. “We have a settlement nearby. Would you like to come see?”
Astarion blinks in surprise at the invitation. He looks to the apprehensive vampire children and back to Sebasian again. He nods. “I would be most honored.”
***
Astarion is surprised to see that yet another place has thrived after the war. The Underdark is much different than the lands above, but Cazador’s vampire spawn have created a new joint community with the Myconids. It is certainly a vast improvement from being chained up in Szarr Palace, and a suitable solution to avoiding the sunshine during the daytime up above ground.
Many of the other spawn regard Astarion with reverence– though many of them look at him with fear in their beady red eyes, if not palpable hate.
He expects Sebastian to attempt to kill him when he leads him away from the crowds, and is surprised when he simply invites him into his private chamber instead. It reminds him of the Inner Sanctum in Emerald Grove, just a bit more shadowy.
Sebastian offers him a drink– half deer blood, half red wine.
“We are low on blood at the moment,” Sebastian explains.
Astarion shakes his head. “You have offered more hospitality than I deserve.”
Sebastian frowns. He lifts his glass to his lips, drinking deeply.
“I think I understand you, now,” he says when his glass is half-empty. “You were just as much a victim of Cazador as the rest of us.”
“Even so. It does not excuse what I did.”
“No,” Sebastian agrees. He takes another sip.
“I know it probably means very little, but for what it’s worth– I am sorry.”
Sebastian hums, as if mulling over the apology. When he looks up from his wine glass, his red eyes are bright and vulnerable. “Was any of it real? What you said to me before I was turned, I mean.”
Astarion sighs. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Astarion nods. “Parts of it were real. I did think you were so very adorable. Charming and easy to talk to. If I were… normal , I would have liked to date you properly. I would have liked to be your first kiss, without an alternative motive.”
“I was surprised you even remembered me,” Sebastian says quietly. “It had been so long. I was one of many.”
“I remember all of them,” Astarion admits, bitterness laced in his voice. “I remember the sweet ones, like you, whom I doomed to a fate they did not deserve. I remember the ones whose behavior rivaled only the most wretched of devils, who earned Cazador’s cruelty…” Astarion shudders. “I am so sorry, Sebastian.”
“Thank you.”
“So. How have you been?”
Sebastian smiles at the loaded casual question. “Better than being locked in a cage, that is for sure. The Underdark is very beautiful in its own unique way. I still miss the sun, of course. But that is simply the curse of our condition.”
Astarion nods.
“It is good to see you, Astarion.”
Astarion’s brow furrows. “Is it?”
Sebastian nods. “I thought I would hate you… But I do not.”
“One vampire spawn down, seven thousand more to go.”
“You are more charming than you think,” Sebastian says with a small smile. “When we met, you said I was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.”
“Pretty words for pretty fools,” Astarion says. “But you are beautiful, Sebastian. And I say that as someone with very high standards.”
Sebastian’s eyes widen before they crinkle with cautious mirth. “You are too good at that. Pretending to flirt.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” Astarion says with a wink.
Sebastian laughs. “Would it be insane of me if I said I liked it?”
“Of course not, darling. Nobody can resist my charms. Well, almost nobody.”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Almost?”
Astarion takes a sip of the wine-blood with a wry smile. “In a rather apt karmic twist of fate, it appears the one person who I wished to be enamored with me sadly does not feel the same way as I do about him.”
“Heartbreak,” Sebastian nods. “I am familiar with the feeling. I will not lie, seeing you experience it does offer me a sort of bitter satisfaction.”
“Ha. Fair enough.”
“Perhaps a distraction will be helpful? For both of us.” Sebastian is blushing, though he maintains eye contact.
Astarion blinks. “You would want that?”
Sebastian nods. “I think it would be… healing for me. To lie with you one more time. But this time, no tricks. Just…”
“Just us,” Astarion says, nodding in understanding.
Sebastian’s laugh is nervous. “Is that a mad idea?”
“Possibly,” Astarion drawls. He steps closer to the other spawn, slowly bringing a hand up to caress his face. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” Sebastian whispers.
Astarion bridges the distance between them and presses their lips together gently. Sebastian gasps into it, and clings onto Astarion’s shoulders. Astarion gradually deepens the kiss, moving his mouth against Sebastian’s and encouraging him to angle his head. The way Sebastian sighs makes Astarion shiver.
As good as their real first kiss surely was, this is what it should have been like for Sebastian. In his control, under his terms, away from impending danger.
Astarion isn’t surprised that the kiss stirs an emotion within him, too. It has been so long since he has wanted to kiss someone. Even if it isn’t with the one he truly loves, it is a wonderful sensation.
Sebastian is the first to break the kiss. He laughs when Astarion tries to chase after his lips. “We should get on the bed,” he suggests shyly.
Astarion smiles, his eyes half-lidded. He presses a quick kiss to his lips. “Get comfortable, darling.”
They undress. Astarion helps remove his tunic, and immediately after he does not hesitate to press wet kisses along his neck and across his collarbone. Sebastian gasps again, but slowly he grows more confident, and allows his hands to wander along Astarion’s body, too.
There are stuttery moments where Astarion occasionally loses himself. But he manages to snap himself out of it– to prevent himself from dissociating or from going through the motions. He can tell Sebastian has similar episodes, however fleeting.
Astarion takes his time with him, initiating more kisses and murmuring praises into his ear. Sebastian basks in Astarion’s unwavering attention, and shivers under his careful touch.
He fumbles in a drawer for a vial of oil by the time they’re both fully nude. Astarion gently pushes him to lie on his back and kneels between his spread legs. He distracts Sebastian with more heated kisses and by stroking his hard cock while he slowly fingers him open. He presses a sharp grin to Sebastian’s neck when he gets four fingers deep and Sebastian lets out a long moan.
“Sebastian,” Astarion whispers when he finally presses his cock into him.
“Astarion,” Sebastian manages to say back, preceded by another moan.
Astarion grunts as he bottoms out. He lets Sebastian adjust, and then starts to move.
For the first time in at least two centuries, Astarion has sex with someone he cares about.
As he focuses on Sebastian’s pleasure, the thought occurs to Astarion that this is definitely the easiest it has ever been to give up his body for another. But maybe that is not necessarily what he is doing– at least it’s not all he’s doing. He is sharing his body willingly. Enthusiastically.
“Astarion,” Sebastian moans again when Astarion picks up the pace. He clings to Astarion’s shoulders, and presses a devastatingly sweet kiss to his lips. “I’m close.”
“Relax,” Astarion says, sneaking a hand between their bodies to continue stroking Sebastian’s length. “Come for me, my darling.”
Sebastian’s back arches as he orgasms, and Astarion fucks him through it.
***
It is dark by the time Astarion reaches the surface of the world. His body is loose and light, and it’s as if there is a peaceful buzzing in his brain as he silently reflects on his unexpectedly gratifying evening with Sebastian.
“You seem to be in a good mood, my friend,” Halsin says with a grin when Astarion reaches the cottage.
Astarion tosses him the bag of fungi he had gathered in the Underdark. “You know me. When I’m around mushrooms all day I go absolutely wild with glee.”
Halsin chuckles and rummages through the bag, humming in satisfaction. “A bounty of useful and delicious findings. Thank you.”
Astarion sinks down in an old armchair with a sigh. “Mm.”
Halsin raises an eyebrow. “You appear to be particularly fatigued. Did you run into any creatures while you were down there?”
Astarion smirks. “Something like that.”
Halsin’s brow furrows. “Are you hurt?”
Astarion rolls his eyes. “Calm down. I don’t require a healer at the moment, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“If you are certain.”
“I am.”
Astarion frowns to himself. He doesn’t know why he’s being short with Halsin. He doesn’t know why he isn’t letting himself enjoy the afterglow of his orgasm.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Halsin smiles. “A group of local druids are throwing a celebratory feast tonight in the village. Would you care to join me?”
“Sure,” Astarion drawls. “What’s the occasion?”
“Tomorrow is the first day of autumn. In our culture, we like to mark the occasion by enjoying the last of the summer’s bounty and saying our thanks to the Oak Father through prayer and song.”
Astarion raises an eyebrow. “The others would not mind my presence?”
Halsin’s brow furrows. “Why would they mind?”
Astarion snorts. “Because I’m obviously not a druid and don’t believe in any gods? Or maybe because I’m a vampire and an affront to nature? Shall I go on?”
Halsin frowns. “You would be a welcome guest regardless of your creed. And just because you are a vampire, does not mean you are affront to nature. The very opposite– like every being, you are a part of nature.”
“I’m undead , Halsin,” Astarion points out with a sneer. “You may be open-minded, but I’m sure the other druids would smite me on sight without a second thought.”
Halsin lets out a quiet sigh. “If you do not wish to come, that is fine. I will not try to persuade you.”
Astarion feels his chest tighten uncomfortably. What is he doing ? No wonder Halsin doesn’t see him as a viable partner. Cazador may be gone, Sebastian may forgive him– but at his core, Astarion is rotten .
“Have a good time,” Astarion forces himself to say in a light-hearted tone. “I think I’ll rest a bit, and maybe go for a hunt. I’m rather peckish after all that mushroom hunting.”
Halsin nods. “I will be back by the morning. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, darling.”
Astarion sighs when he hears the front door open and shut. He looks up, blankly staring at the ceiling.
He knows he lashes out or says mean things when he’s insecure. It is a coping mechanism that he has yet to shake off entirely. He normally recognizes his triggers– usually unexpected physical contact or the threat of being controlled. He hadn’t expected it to happen after simply being invited to a gods damned dinner .
But thinking back on his words, it seems obvious in hindsight. Of course he would be nervous at the thought of attending a druid celebration. While he has grown to appreciate nature, he certainly does not have the knowledge or talent like that of a druid or wood elf. Hells, he barely even knows the culture of elves in general. A part of him is flattered that Halsin even bothered to invite him, but a stronger part is scared. Everyone loves Halsin. Sure, Astarion is an expert at empty flattery and meaningless chatter. But it is nothing compared to the way Halsin effortlessly tells a story to entertain both children and adults alike, or the way he always has sage advice even when he is uncertain, or the way his mere presence seems to put everyone at ease…
It would be terrifying to stand beside him at an event that was clearly so important to him.
But it is important to him– and he invited Astarion. Because Astarion is important to him, too.
Fuck. He should have gone.
Astarion jumps up from the armchair. If he hurries, he can probably still catch up.
Quickly, Astarion changes his shirt to one more clean and less wrinkled. He jogs down the trail that leads from the cottage and to the village entrance, hoping that he won’t look too disheveled by the time he arrives.
He is unsure where the feast will be taking place exactly, but it becomes clear once he gets closer to the village. There is a meadow adjacent to the local apothecary shop, and as Astarion approaches, he can see a grand picnic feast set up atop of gingham blankets lit up by glowing fireflies and flickering torches.
He smiles as soon as he hears Halsin’s booming laugh.
He steps forward, but pauses when he sees Halsin at the center of a group of druids. They’re all beaming up at him, clearly hanging onto his every word. One of them, a pretty young thing with smooth black hair and a bright smile, squeezes his arm. Halsin grins and squeezes their hand back.
Jealousy slithers up Astarion’s spine.
It’s stupid. He should not feel jealous– he has not earned the right to feel jealous. Halsin has made it clear that nothing will happen between them.
Astarion shakes his head. There is no point in spoiling Halsin’s night.
With urgency now unnecessary, Astarion turns and walks back to the cottage at a leisurely pace.
It doesn’t take long to pack his things, nor to write a quick note expressing his thanks for Halsin’s hospitality. He does not look back as he leaves the cottage for a final time, and treks down the path that will eventually lead him to Baldur’s Gate.
***
Returning to the city is bittersweet. The familiarity is a comfort, but it is not enough to stop Astarion from missing the wilderness or his temporary life in a quaint yet thriving village. It is not enough to stop him from missing Halsin.
After a brief rest in one of the rooms in Elfsong Tavern, under the cover of night Astarion finds himself walking in a neighborhood he is all too acquainted with. He feels his body tense as he approaches the ruined mansion that is Szarr Palace. Still, he pushes forward.
The moment he steps through its threshold, he is greeted by the scent of old dust and stale blood and rotting wood. It is eerily quiet, although he can too easily imagine the screams that once filled these unholy halls for centuries upon centuries.
A sob wracks through his body. Involuntarily he falls to his knees on the hard wooden floor, curling in on himself. He gasps through his panic attack, desperate for the oxygen he cannot breathe. It feels like it lasts for hours, though it is probably only a few minutes.
After it passes, he stands upright again, and ventures deeper inside the ghostly mansion.
***
The palace is massive, so it is unsurprising that it takes a lot of patience and labor to fix it up.
It is coming along nicely, though, Astarion thinks. Gone is the gaudy artwork and drab wallpaper. The bloodstains in the carpets and curtains have been scrubbed clean– a difficult task, but one certainly suited to vampire spawn. Each room is slowly emptied and refilled; all the forgotten bodies and torture apparatus are replaced with proper furniture and typical household appliances.
“I never thought this place could look so much like a home,” Sebastian comments in awe as the two of them gaze upon the newly refurbished kitchens.
Astarion snorts. No matter how much redecorating they do, this will never feel like a home to him. But he has to agree that at least to an outsider, the palace does look much more inviting. This place is not for someone like Astarion, anyway– it is for the thousands of other vampire spawn that were once imprisoned here, who still need a residence or at least place to rest when the sun rises over the city.
It had been Astarion’s idea when he got back to Baldur’s Gate– but it is thanks to Sebastian’s leadership, and the trust the other spawn have in him, that they’ve been able to get so much work done so far.
“I only briefly saw this part of the palace,” Sebastian says quietly. “Perhaps that is why I am able to see beyond its past.”
Astarion hums. “A small blessing.”
Sebastian smiles. “Yes.”
Astarion can’t help but smile back. Sebastian fills him with a sort of new hope; Sebastian had been apprehensive at first when he suddenly found himself in a leadership role in service of the rest of the spawn, but he has grown into the position quite well. There is a new confidence in him that Astarion admires fondly.
He pats Sebastian on the back and leaves him to his new home now that the day’s work is done.
“Goodnight, Astarion.”
“Goodnight, darling.”
The moon is nearly full tonight. It lights up the city with a glowing warmth; it’s almost as satisfying as walking around in the sunlight. Almost.
Elfsong Tavern is as lively as it is every night, though thankfully the second floor is mostly quiet with its sleeping guests. Most of them are likely just passing through, although there are a couple of other unofficial permanent residents like Astarion. As he enters his room, he shucks his boots off with a sigh. His belly aches. He needs to go hunting soon– tomorrow at the latest.
He has just decided to draw a bath when there is a knock at the door.
Grumbling, he stops undressing and answers it.
A nervous barmaid stares up at him. “Sorry to disturb you, saer. A man downstairs is asking to see you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “A man? I know many. You’ll have to be more specific, my dear.”
“He… He has a scar on his face. And a tattoo– of vines of some sort, I think.”
Astarion feels his body tense up. “Did he say what he wanted?”
She shakes her head. “N-No, saer. Just that he wanted to speak with you.”
Astarion clenches his jaw and nods stiffly. “Alright. Tell him I’ll be down in a moment.”
“Yes, saer.”
“And be sure to play up the whole stuttering maiden act when you do,” he adds. “He’s a sucker for those in need and an absurdly good tipper.”
She giggles at that, and bows before scurrying downstairs.
Astarion’s smirk fades quickly once he is alone. He futilely attempts to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt, and not for the first time he silently curses the gods that he is unable to see his reflection in order to fix his appearance.
As soon as he descends back to the main floor of the tavern, his ears are filled with raucous laughter and drunken singing. He scans the room for the massive brown druid, brow furrowing as he wonders just how in the hells Halsin doesn’t automatically stand out amongst the smaller, plainer patrons.
He flinches when a glass of wine suddenly appears in front of him, offered by a familiar hand.
“I took the liberty of ordering you a drink while I waited. I hope that was not too presumptuous of me.”
Astarion looks up at Halsin, momentarily mesmerized by his presence. He takes the glass and takes a long sip.
“If it means I get free drinks, then please– presume away.”
Halsin chuckles. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”
Astarion makes a vague noise. “You wanted to talk?”
Halsin nods. “Shall we sit?”
Astarion shrugs and follows him to a picnic table on the patio. The nightlife is still lively outside, but the air is fresher and the noise is minimal. The two of them sit in silence for a moment as they sip their drinks.
Astarion sighs, breaking the silence first. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Well, here I am.”
“I wanted to see you,” Halsin says again. “And I wanted to ask you why you left so suddenly.”
Astarion swirls the wine inside his glass. “It was time,” he says simply.
Halsin gazes at him, his hazel eyes bright and focused. “Why?”
“I grew bored of the country, just like I grew bored of the city,” Astarion shrugs again.
Halsin shakes his head, visibly frustrated. “It was a mistake, my coming here.” He sets down his cup and stands as if to leave.
“Wait,” Astarion says, chest tightening in his panic. “I’m sorry, don’t go–”
Halsin’s brow furrows. “I’ll stay for a little while longer, if you wish.”
Astarion blinks back tears. Just for something to do, he takes another sip of his drink.
“I was concerned, when I got back to the cottage and discovered you were gone,” Halsin says, and then asks again, “Why did you leave?”
Astarion stares down at the table. “It was too hard.”
“What was too hard?”
“Being around you,” he sighs. “I know you just want to be friends, but… I just... I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Halsin says nothing. Astarion finishes the rest of his wine, and wishes the glass would magically refill so he could effortlessly continue to drink his sorrows away.
“Astarion.”
He looks up, startled to see the tears swimming in Halsin’s eyes.
“Astarion,” he says again. “I am very sorry.”
Astarion lets out a shaky laugh. “Whatever are you sorry for, you silly bear?”
“I made a terrible mistake,” Halsin says, his voice thick. “Making you think I did not want you.”
“Don’t do that,” Astarion says, shaking his head. “Don’t…”
“Please,” Halsin begs. “Just listen to me…”
Astarion wants to flee, but forces himself to stay seated as he waits for Halsin to gather himself.
“I think I was right, to at first reject your advances. You were in a precarious stage in your life,” Halsin says eventually. “But then I waited too long… I did not even entertain the thought of pursuing you, because I believed I was just being selfish if I did.”
“You are the least selfish man I’ve ever met, Halsin,” Astarion huffs, exasperated. “It’s actually incredibly infuriating.”
Halsin laughs wetly. “I think I am more selfish than you realize.”
“Prove it,” Astarion challenges, his smirk only somewhat wobbling from his barely-hidden emotion.
Halsin stands from the table and, with surprising grace and agility for a man his size, rushes over to Astarion’s side and pulls him into a tight embrace.
Astarion lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He breathes in deep, immediately relaxing in Halsin’s earthy sandalwood scent.
“I missed you,” Astarion admits in a whisper.
“My love, I missed you so much.”
When they pull back from the embrace, Halsin cups Astarion’s face with two large hands.
“You are starving,” he observes keenly. “Would you like to feed from me?”
For a brief moment, Astarion is astonished– but really, it is just like Halsin to offer up his blood in a moment as significant as this.
Astarion grins weakly. “Darling, I thought you’d never ask.”
***
Back in his room upstairs, Astarion sits in Halsin’s lap on top of the bed. He presses a gentle kiss to Halsin’s proffered neck.
“You sure you’re ready, darling?”’
“Yes.”
Astarion kisses his neck again before sinking his fangs into his skin. The heady taste of Halsin’s earthy blood flows deliciously into his waiting mouth, his tongue lapping away any stray drops before they reach Halsin’s tunic.
Halsin winces slightly at the first bite of pain, but then wraps his big arms around Astarion as easily as if they were simply cuddling. Astarion sighs, and suckles him as gently as he possibly can.
When his belly is full, he carefully pulls his mouth off of Halsin’s neck with one final lick.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
Halsin smiles at him, wiping away a missed speckle of blood from his lips with a finger. “Can I kiss you?”
Astarion smiles back, and presses their lips together.
It is just as sweet as kissing Sebastian, but exponentially more overwhelming. Halsin is greedy and eager, quickly coming undone in a way that makes Astarion whimper.
Astarion laughs when Halsin literally tears the clothes off both of them. Halsin is as caring of a lover as he is as a healer, but there is a carnality to him that has Astarion reeling in the best way possible.
“Eager, are we?” Astarion teases.
“You have no idea,” Halsin growls, bearlike.
Astarion raises an eyebrow and traces his slender fingers across Halsin’s facial scar and tattoo. “Mm. I think I have at least an inkling.”
Halsin’s expression darkens. Astarion’s amused giggle grows hysterical and breathless as he is pressed into the mattress and smothered with aggressive kisses.
Amazing , he thinks. Not too long ago he would never have imagined he would enjoy intimacy like this, let alone with someone he… loves.
“Hey, wait a moment, you thirsty bear,” Astarion says, gently pushing Halsin away.
Halsin stops immediately. “What is wrong?”
Astarion rolls his eyes with a fond smile. “Nothing. I just wanted, er… I wanted to say that I love you. Before we get carried away.”
Halsin’s eyes are still dilated, but they melt into warm honey as he processes Astarion’s confession. He takes Astarion’s hand and presses the palm to his kiss-swollen lips.
“I love you, little star.”
It is an earnest expression of affection that at one time would render Astarion absolutely disgusted. But coming from the man he loves, and said with such a reverent tone…
“I love you,” Halsin repeats.
Astarion shivers at the sound of those three simple words. “Okay, you can continue ravishing me now.”
Halsin chuckles, low and deep. “As you wish.”
They are both still eager, but less rushed now as they lose themselves in each other’s bodies. Halsin rolls them so they are on their sides, endlessly kissing as he strokes both of their cocks in his large hand. Astarion shudders at the sensation of Halsin’s girthy length rubbing against him.
Halsin comes first, but Astarion comes harder– he shouts out as the overwhelming pleasure overtakes him, writhing in Halsin’s strong arms. As he regains consciousness, it is to Halsin pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head.
“Welcome back,” Halsin says, only slightly teasing.
“Shut up. Lie down. I’m going to ride you.”
Halsin looks just as surprised as Astarion feels at the sudden command. But Halsin obeys, relinquishing his embrace around Astarion’s waist and settling himself down on the bed. For the first time ever, Astarion is grateful for his past; if there’s one thing he knows how to do well, it’s how to ride a cock.
To be honest, there isn’t much he doesn’t know how to do well when it comes to sexual acts. Something to look forward to.
For now, he grins down at Halsin as he preps himself, and almost laughs at the amazed expression on his face as he finally sinks down on his thick length.
There are still those pesky moments, of course– those brief flashes of memories that disrupt Astarion’s focus and distract from his mounting pleasure. But Halsin is patient, and grounding. He holds Astarion while he recovers, and it is not long before they both approach orgasm again.
“You are so beautiful,” Halsin pants breathlessly.
“I’ve been told,” Astarion says with a smirk, failing to pretend he isn’t breathless himself.
Suddenly Halsin sits up, his grip on Astarion’s hips keeping firmly rooted in his lap as he continues grinding and thrusting into him.
“ Fuck !” Astarion shouts, the wind knocked out of him at the change in position and intensity.
“Too much?” Halsin asks with a cheeky smile.
“Shut up, just keep going,” Astarion growls, biting at Halsin’s pointed ear.
Halsin chuckles and keeps powerfully thrusting inside of Astarion like he could do it all night. The thought makes Astarion tremble and moan.
“I remember you,” Halsin whispers in his ear while he brushes his hair from his forehead. “When I first saw you, I mean. When I was being held captive in the goblins’ camp. I nearly took an arrow to the shoulder, I was so distracted by your beauty.”
Astarion rolls his eyes, and rolls his hips just to torture him. Halsin groans.
“Silly bear,” Astarion teases.
“I fell in love with you,” Halsin continues like he hadn’t just nearly came just seconds before. “The night of the Emerald Grove party. You happened to be reading one of my favorite novels, and were utterly unphased by the merriment surrounding you. We ended up talking all night, until we realized everyone else had gone to bed– or snuck off into the forest for some more fun. I almost asked if you wanted to as well.”
Astarion snickers. “You are much too articulate for my liking right now.”
Halsin presses a wet kiss to the side of his face. “Forgive me. It takes all my self-control not to wax poetic about how happy I am to be with you.”
“You are forgiven. But only if you make me come again.”
“Of course.”
Astarion yelps when he finds himself abruptly pushed onto his back with Halsin looming over him, still pumping his hips at a steady pace.
“Halsin,” he gasps, feeling his belly bloom with that familiar– and now-welcome –warmth.
“Astarion,” he answers. “Kiss me, and come, my love.”
Astarion closes his eyes, and does as he’s told.
***
They fuck each other all night, taking a break just a morning arrives. Astarion draws a bath, smirking at how Halsin’s large body hardly fits. Still, Astarion manages to weasel his way onto his lap. They let out a simultaneous sigh as they luxuriate in the warmth of the water.
Halsin wraps his arms around Astarion and plants a kiss behind his ear.
“You were right,” Astarion mutters. “To reject my initial advances, as upset as it made me at the time… I really did just need a friend while I figured my shit out.”
Halsin hums and kisses behind his other ear.
“You weren’t my first, you know,” Astarion continues. “I mean– you weren’t the first person I fucked since escaping Cazador.”
Halsin rests his chin on Astarion’s shoulder. “You know that I believe it is perfectly natural to have more than one partner.”
“That’s why I’m telling you. It was with another vampire spawn. Sebastian. One of the many people I fooled while I was still in Cazador’s control.”
“It must have been an emotional experience, reuniting.”
“Yes,” Astarion smiles. “It was… nice.”
Halsin squeezes his hand.
“I have been helping restore the palace.”
“And will you stay there with him when it is finished?”
“Gods no, it’s hard enough stepping foot in that damned place let alone sleep there. But when I got back to the city, it just felt like the right thing to do. Let the other spawn have it if they want it.”
“I know you do not need my approval, Astarion,” Halsin says, his deep voice a purr in Astarion’s ear. “But I am very proud of you.”
Astarion exhales shakily. “Thank you.”
“What will you do now?”
Astarion swallows. “I– well, I don’t want to presume… I had already taken advantage of your hospitality…”
Halsin takes Astarion’s chin with a gentle thumb and forefinger, encouraging him to turn his head so they can face each other. Halsin is smiling, his hazel eyes full of warmth.
“Come home with me, my love.”
Astarion kisses him.
***
Halsin claims that this is a significant wood elf druid ceremony that one performs to honor one’s partner as well as the Oak Father– but Astarion wonders if this is just a ploy to fuck in the forest. Either way, he sees no reason to complain.
He follows Halsin as he heads down the path to a clearing– the same one where Halsin showed Astarion exercises to aid the strain in his muscles. This time, there is a blanket laid down and glowing lights hanging down from the trees, placed there and lit up by Halsin’s magic. There is also a bottle of what appears to be wine, though it certainly isn’t the sort that can be found at just any old tavern. The bottle is small and shimmery and multicolored, almost as if it is made of stained glass.
Halsin sits with his legs crossed. He smiles and pats the space beside him, where Astarion sits down with an amused snort.
“Drinking and fucking in a forest,” he muses. “Maybe I do believe in your Oak Father after all.”
Halsin chuckles. “It is alright if you do not worship the same way I do. What matters is that you are here, and that you are willing to help with something that is important to me.”
Astarion feels himself blush and is glad when Halsin busies himself by pouring the odd wine into two goblets.
“This is ceremonial wine,” he explains. “Made by using the most precious of fruits through a sacred fermenting process known only to a select group of wood elf druids. When wood elf druids come of age, they are gifted a bottle, typically from their parents. What it is used for is up to the recipient, though usually it is saved for special occasions or potions.”
Astarion accepts one of the goblets and stares at the burgundy liquid. It looks like regular wine to him. “So… we just drink it?”
“Yes, but not quite yet. First I will recite the ceremonial vows.”
Astarion nods.
Halsin smiles at him before gazing up at the night sky.
“Tonight is the eve of the peak of harvest season, a most auspicious day to observe the rites of Immeeira Bwaelan Dro . I give thanks to Silvanus– the great Treefather, god of all that is wild and of all nature’s danger and its charm. His benevolence has blessed us with a beautiful world full of beautiful creatures.” Halsin looks back at Astarion, smiling again. He takes his hands and holds them with his own. “He has blessed me with a beautiful partner who complements me in ways that both comfort and challenge me.”
Astarion smirks, though he is surprised to find he is actually starting to get choked up a bit. This damned bear…
Halsin continues. “Tonight we celebrate love and embrace its place in the essence of nature and the cycle of life. I will forever be grateful for all the love I have had the fortune to experience. I will forever be grateful for Astarion Ancunin, my little star.”
Astarion attempts a wobbly smile, unable to prevent a tear from leaking down his face. Halsin wipes it away with a thumb.
“Now we drink,” he says softly.
“Wait,” Astarion says.
Halsin tilts his head. “What is it?”
“I… I would like to say something. If it doesn’t mess the ceremony up, that is.”
Halsin nods. “Of course. Speak your mind, Astarion.”
Astarion swallows. “I won’t pretend I know much about nature, or that I believe in a higher being. But I do know how much I cherish the sight of a vibrant field of flowers, or the fresh scent of pine that surrounds us now in this forest. I am thankful to be given a second chance at life. I am thankful to have found Halsin Silverbough, who has taught me how to love myself again. So if there is some sort of deity listening, please keep looking out for him. He’s one of the good ones.”
Halsin grins, his eyes watery. He kisses Astarion on the cheek. “That was perfect. Thank you for your kind words.”
“Yes, well. Can’t have you stealing the limelight, can we?”
“Of course not,” Halsin says, a twinkle in his eye.
He lifts his goblet of wine up. Astarion mirrors the movement and then they both drink.
The wine hits Astarion’s tongue with a fragrant flavor of blackcurrant, cherry, and vanilla. It is definitely a good wine, though it is still unclear why it is so special.
And then it hits him– a brilliant warmth that makes his toes tingle and sends a chill down his spine. He narrows his eyes at Halsin. “Did you just give me an aphrodisiac ?”
Halsin’s smile is sheepish. “It is a side effect of the fermentation process, yes.”
Astarion laughs and wacks him on the shoulder. “So you’re telling me all wood elf druids are just as horny as you are?”
“Our people have a healthy appetite for life,” Halsin says with a blush, clearing his throat.
Astarion snorts. “That’s certainly one way of putting it. Alright then, do your worst.”
He barely has time to brace himself before Halsin is on him, pulling him in for a fierce kiss. Astarion wraps his arms around him and lets himself fall with his back on the soft blanket. Halsin makes quick work of their clothes– although he manages not to rip them this time at least. As they kiss, and as Halsin rubs their erections together, Astarion makes a bold move by trailing his clever fingers down Halsin’s broad back and in between his asscheeks.
Halsin moans, low and deep.
Astarion hums at the positive reaction and grows bolder, pressing a finger directly on his hole. Halsin bucks his hips hard and lets his full weight down on Astarion, who hisses at the suddenly increased pressure on his leaking cock. He manages to roll them over so that Halsin is on his belly, and grabs the vial of oil next to their pile of forgotten clothes. Quickly, he pours some on his hand and gets back to work, slowly pressing finger after finger into Halsin's greedy hole until he’s easily taking four.
“I’ve never topped a bear before,” Astarion says with a lazy smile.
Halsin chuckles, and then moans as Astarion hits a particularly good part inside of him. “There’s– ah! There’s a first time for everything.”
“When you’ve lived as long as we have, there aren’t many firsts left to experience. Perhaps the gods have blessed us tonight.”
“My love, as wonderful as your fingers feel,” Halsin gasps out. “I am afraid I require more.”
Astarion smirks and kisses him on the cheek. “And you shall receive it, my dear.”
He manages to fight back the urge to tease Halsin further, removing his fingers from his ass and lining his cock up instead. He presses into him slowly, but then Halsin suddenly pushes his hips back to take in Astarion’s cock in one go.
“Shit,” Astarion curses. He moves right away, matching Halsin’s desperate grinding motions.
Draping himself over Halsin’s ridiculously muscled back, Astarion reaches underneath him to stroke Halsin’s fat cock in time with his thrusts. Whatever aphrodisiac was in that wine is working fast; it’s clear neither of them will last much longer.
Although, Astarion wouldn’t be surprised if it had nothing to do with wine.
He feels Halsin tremble as he approaches orgasm, his cock jumping in his hand before finally spilling his seed onto the blanket below them. Astarion pounds into him, hips stuttering, and finishes inside.
Their limbs give out, resulting in the both of them falling into each other as they catch their breath, their legs tangled together.
Halsin manages to find Astarion’s lips, kissing him deeply. “Thank you, my love.”
“You are most welcome. You know, we’ve got hours until the sun rises.”
Halsin hums. “And we have yet to finish our wine.”
Astarion grins and straddles him. “Then pour another glass, darling.”