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He’s waiting by the water, eyes closed and pale face raised to a stream of silver moonlight; when her delicate cloth shoes make the softest noise in the rich green grass, his pointed ears quiver, and he turns, red eyes finding her in the half-dark.
“Isti,” he greets, subdued. Extending his hand out to her, he smiles slightly when she rests her graceful fingers lightly in his, allowing herself to be drawn to his side.
Istiel winds her fingers into his, laying her head on his shoulder and speaking softly in Elvish as she looks out over the dark water. “What ails you, love?”
He chuckles dryly. “You mean aside from the usual?”
If she were a less graceful creature, she would snort. “If by ‘the usual,’ you mean the usual reason you call me out of my tent in the middle of the night to meet somewhere romantic, then yes, I mean something else.”
“Romantic…” he echoes oddly, forlornly.
She waits, but when he doesn’t say anything else, she prompts, “Astarion?”
He turns sharply, as if he’s just decided something, and takes both of her hands in his as he gazes down at her earnestly.
“Istiel,” he says, and hesitates, swallowing. “I… I need to tell you something. Before… whatever happens next.”
She frowns faintly. “Astarion, what…”
“I didn’t take the opportunity to ascend,” he interrupts, his face crinkling with distress. “And… you were right. It would have been giving up too much. But now… now there’s something else I have to give up.”
Her heart is in her throat. “Astarion. You don’t have to…”
“Please… Isti, please just listen. When the worms are gone, I’ll never see daylight again. If I’m lucky, I’ll have the chance to disappear underground, scrape out an existence in a dark tunnel somewhere, and I - I would never, ever ask you to live that life, but I - ” He closes his eyes against a rising glimmer, his fingers squeezing hers tightly. “Istiel, I know I’ll have to let you go in the end. But I still… I…”
Her chest hurts. “Astarion, you don’t…”
“I do,” he says desperately, “I want to say it, it’s all I have to give you at this point, I - ”
“No, love, it’s not - you don’t have to do this,” she says, gently. “You’re not going to lose me.” He shakes his head, but she continues before he can interrupt. “I’m not going anywhere except where you are. I don’t care if it’s a castle or a cistern. I’d rather live a lifetime of night with you than a single day without.” She reaches up to cup his cold cheek in her warm palm. “I love you, Astarion.”
He’s frozen for a second. Then he laughs, soft and incredulous, and reaches up to cover her hand with his.
“You’re always showing me up,” he says.
“And I always will,” she says, and leans up for a kiss.