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“We’re going to die tomorrow,” Tav said.
“Mmm. Tactfully put, darling.”
Tav laughed, pained, and looked up to the stars. Even laughing felt different now, cleaner, brighter. The sound of his own voice danced through him, and the joy it gave him felt…pure. Unhindered, and utterly free. The feeling was exhilarating as much as it was agonizing.
The night sky was so endlessly beautiful, every starpoint its own, unique splendor. Tav grieved for the life spent unable to see it. The life lived with no love at all.
A single evening spent free, and its bitter end to come with the dawn.
Tav’s hand clenched. He was free now, of Father and his influence. Of the dread instinct that possessed his body and mind.
But the hate was still there, it was just his to feel.
“It’s strange,” he said. He hated how weak it sounded, how unsure. Nothing fueled his confidence, nothing wrapped around his insides, whispering his worst intentions to him. Nothing muddled his mind or dampened his senses. Everything - every emotion, every thought, every sensation - was so excruciatingly sharp.
Astarion pressed his hands to the ground and readjusted his position, sitting to face Tav completely. “Our impending doom? Or do you have something else in mind?” Astarion asked, beside him.
The two of them sat upon a grassy bank, not far from camp. It was the closest to nowhere they could get, considering the circumstances. The perfect romantic getaway for their last night alive. Astarion leaned closer to him and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Tav closed his eyes and felt the gentle brush of contact. He could hear each rustle of Astarion’s clothing, and the sound of the breeze as it whistled in the background. Would it always have been like this? Each touch so intimate and tender? Every point of contact not a puncture wound through his red haze, but the simple pleasure of feeling skin on skin.
Tav opened his eyes and Astarion was there, really there. Not some manifestation of obsession of passion, not some factor of a greater plot that his megalomaniac mind had concocted. He was just…there. Looking at him. Seeing him. Everything he'd ever known felt insignificant in comparison, and whatever he was going to say fell away, replaced by one, reverent, breath.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
Astarion’s eyelashes fluttered as his eyes softened and flitted to the ground. Tav saw the gentle smile on his lips before Astarion found his assholery and looked back. Tav watched his melodrama with familiar fondness.
“Strange?? Why, I’m offended,” he said, in his stage voice. “Of course I’m beautiful. You have eyes,” Astarion said, then gestured to the hag-eyed side of Tav’s face. “An eye and then some, at least,” he amended.
Tav snickered, pressing a hand to the skin beneath his eye absentmindedly before realizing his mistake. "I never answered your question, did I?”
Astarion shook his head. “And you know how I hate to be ignored,” he sulked.
Tav snorted and shoved him, and Astarion’s pretend pout fell back into his signature mischievous smirk. “I suppose I just...saw you. And whatever I was going to say didn't matter anymore." Tav heard the tone of his voice now. It was low and smooth, with a timbre that reminded him of humming along to a lullaby. He'd never stopped to appreciate it before, but now all of the little things about himself that were never important before became apparent to him. This man wore his face, but who was he?
Astarion looked at him, face ever the dramatist. "Well, the notion may be new to you, I understand, but I, for one, am interested in knowing what's going on in that pretty head of yours. Go on," he demanded, flourishing his hand as if to set the stage.
"I said it's strange," he said, gesturing to the world around them. Tav ran a hand over the grass beneath him, letting the cool, green blades slide over his skin. He felt the sturdiness of the dirt beneath them, the roots that binded together the world in their collective strength. "All of it is laid out before me like I've never seen it before. I used to see the world as a battlefield. My stage dressed in red."
"You do have a way with words," Astarion sighed, dreamily. His tone was teasing and light, but he failed at keeping the true affection out of it. "I hope this isn't you telling me you've changed your mind on the whole world domination plan, now," he said. "It wouldn't do for you to be growing soft on me."
Tav's lips tore into a malicious, lop-sided grin and he lowered his voice. He leaned in closer to Astarion and whispered, “Oh, have no delusions. I may not be Bhaal's anymore, but I could still wring your pretty neck.”
Astarion threw back his head and laughed, and Tav watched as his white curls danced and glimmered in the moonlight.
Astarion hummed playfully and then fixed Tav with a devilish stare. “My, my, seems Daddy Dearest’s departed has kept his teeth - what will he do?”
“Mmm,” Tav hummed. He leaned over and set his palm on Astarion’s chest, easing him back. He followed, hovering over Astarion as they laid back. “I might bite,” he said in a low tone, bringing his face a few scant inches from Astarion’s own.
Astarion brought his hand up to Tav’s lips and pressed the soft flesh back to reveal a set of small, double fangs. Astarion smirked, contented.
“With what? These?"
Tav’s nose scrunched and he snapped playfully at Astarion’s hand. The vampire pulled his fingers back, chuckling.
"I adore your little fangs, you know,” Astarion said, bemused. “They’re very cute.”
Astarion smirked and grabbed one of Tav's wrists. He dragged the tiefling closer, baring his teeth. He brought Tav’s wrist to his mouth, letting his fangs show as he smiled and brushed his lips against the pulse point there. Tav's heartrate accelerated, pounding as he watched Astarion tease his teeth against the tender flesh.
"You are a brat," Tav hissed.
Astarion smirked, readjusting his grip on Tav's wrist and yanking him off his balance. Tav fell, face coming dangerously close to Astarion's lips. The vampire’s eyes glinted in the moonlight, twinkling with intentions he’d never tell. Tav felt Astarion’s soul in those eyes, mischief and adoration in equal measure. Astarion let a few moments of anticipation pass, letting nothing but Tav's heartbeat and their mingling breath fill the space between them.
Tav watched him with baited breath as Astarion's hand raised and he threaded it through Tav's hair. He teased the soft curls there, sending shocks down Tav spine that made him shiver and close his eyes.
"Look at me," Astarion said, gently. His voice was so light that Tav felt that no other soul in the world could have heard him, even if they were to sit in his very position. In every conceivable world, the words were for him, and him only. So, he obeyed. The tips of Astarion's fingers massaging the back of Tav's neck and red eyes that fixated on him enthralled Tav so completely he could not have moved.
"I love you."
Astarion's tone was teasing, but genuine. He didn't want the confession to feel too heavy, but he wanted it to have meaning. Tav smiled, and realized how easy it felt to love, for once.
"I love you too," he said. And for once, the words didn’t have to tear their way out of his throat. They were his to speak, freely and forevermore.
Tav pulled himself down, letting their lips finally meet.
Tav settled into it, letting himself rest, draped over Astarion’s body. With Bhaal gone, his blood wasn’t so hot now. Every touch wasn’t an icicle piercing through his searing heat. Astarion’s touch was gentle and cool, a relaxing chill against his skin to foil his warm-blooded heat. And so to, were the feelings that came with it. In place of burning passion, deep yearning filled his throat, and he pressed forward with desperate fervor. It wasn't the thrill of a kill, nor the ecstasy of sharing his body. It was so much more, so much fuller. Tav drank and drank, feeling both entirely fulfilled and ever-unsatisfied, craving more and more of this gentle passion.
They lay together, embracing until Tav broke away, panting. A single strand of saliva fell away from his lips, and Astarion brushed it away, chuckling lightly.
“Forgot to breathe, darling?”
“Mmph.”
“Mmm~ thought so.”
Tav’s breath finally caught up to him, and he swooped back down with a hunger.
The feeling of being absorbed in him was intoxicating. Tav felt the way his heart beat in his throat, the feeling of their bodies locked together, and the contact of their lips. It all set his nerves alight. Astarion's arms slid up and wrapped around Tav’s back, holding him tight. Tav passed his tongue over the part of Astarion’s lips, begging for entry. This, he needed more of this. The very essence of his lover tangled between them at the lock of their lips.
Gods, he felt alive.
Tav lost himself in Astarion until his lungs screamed for air, and he had to tear himself away. He sat back up on his knees, chest heaving, and tossed his head back into the night air. It felt upon him like a mist, easing away the burning in his body each gentle breeze.
“Hells,” he said, panting. “I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on that.”
Astarion’s brow furrowed and he gently rolled Tav off of him, laying the tiefling in the grass beside him.
“Whatever do you mean?”
Tav looked up at Astarion and cupped his jaw with one hand. He brushed the bone and muscle there, thinking.
“When…we first became intimate, did it ever feel like it wasn’t all quite real? Like there was some barrier in your mind, and every feeling and sensation was filtered through a clouded lens.”
Astarion looked down. Tav saw the shame, as well as the hurt. He'd not forgiven himself, nor had he truly conquered as many of his demons as he believed. “I…suppose. Yes,” he said after a moment. The confession didn't come easily to him.
Tav nodded. “Our circumstances weren't the same, but I know you can understand me when I say this. I was never alone. Never my own. Bhaal is- well. Not easily ignored. I was never at peace in my own mind. He was always lurking, somewhere. Always waiting to be satiated.
“But now that he’s gone, I can see clearly. I can feel things I never knew existed with perfect, crystal clarity." Tav smiled and swiped his thumb over the soft skin under Astarion's eye. He shut his eyes to the touch. "Everything about you is so much clearer now,” Tav said.
Astarion sighed and placed his hand over Tav’s, easing into the caress before opening his eyes again. “Yes. I can understand you. Cazador- everything he made me do…it’s always there. But you make me feel alive.” Astarion’s eyes turned hard and cold. “You help me take back what he took from me.”
Tav’s heart hurt, but he didn’t have the words to soothe away Astarion’s grief. Not when he felt it himself so deeply.
He sat up, setting their conjoined hands in his lap. The vampire looked down at them and squeezed, brow furrowed in consternation, his eyes pained.
Tav didn’t know what else to offer him but his own story.
He thought, searched his own mind for the way to put himself into words. It was not an easy feat. Every thought in his head seemed to fly by, tripping over each other and tangling in a knot before he could stop them to understand. Time itself seemed to move quicker when his mind wasn’t a battlefield, each step a trudge through the blood-soaked mud.
Tav looked down at the pale hand he was holding, and laced his fingers together with it.
“I- I didn’t expect freedom to feel like this,” he said. His voice was choked, and he cursed the vile weakness of it. But Astarion has trusted him, so he would trust Astarion. “Everything I do, every experience and moment, is foreign to the way I’ve thought my entire life. There’s nothing holding me back, no force to fight against. I am entirely my own person, now, but how do I even know who that is? I’ve never known anything but the person who I needed to be for survival. I-...” Tav trailed off, having so much to say, but unable to know where to begin or end.
There was so much more he needed to say. So many questions he needed the answers to. But he didn’t know how to ask or where to find the answers. The stars twinkled above, oblivious to the passage of time and the mortals that lived their entire lives looking up at them.
“Well,” Astarion started, a bit breathless. “I can certainly say that I…know a thing or two about all that.”
Tav closed his eyes, letting the memories force their way in.
“I woke on the nautiloid without a memory to my name. All I felt was this…hatred. This vile, suffocating urge that told me everything in the world was nothing but ash and meat. I only understood cruelty, all I thought I had to give the world was more pain. The only way to survive was ruthless, bloodthirsty cruelty. That’s all I was for so long. A twisted knot of pain and hate and rage.
“I don’t even know who I was before. Was I something more than this? Did Bhaal crush it all out of me? All the love and compassion I could’ve had ripped from me, murdered like everything else. Who am I now, if not the ruined leftovers of a man who never was? Who was never allowed to be?”
Tav’s throat caught. Still, now, it coursed through him - that bitter, hateful rage. Bhaal has killed what belonged to him, so why was it all still there?
He took a shaking breath. He was so angry, but he couldn’t find energy to put into it. All he felt was desolation.
“I thought it would all leave me when Bhaal killed the part of me that belonged. But I’m still so angry and bitter.”
“Everything I’ve been taught - everything I thought I knew…has been turned to dust, ashes running through my fingers.”
Astarion squeezed Tav’s hand, silent for once. Tav felt paralyzed.
“What do you need?” Astarion said. His voice was so...soft. So gentle and genuine, and such a stark contrast from the selfish arrogance he’d met on the beach.
Tav saw Astarion’s ruthlessness and cruelty as one bastion of sanity in the world. The one person other than him who knew how rotten the world was, what you had to do in order to conquer it. They found solace in eachother, justification for the deeds they’d done.
And yet, at the end of it all, they had simply been the victims of an uncaring, cruel world’s cesspit battle royale. Fighting tooth and nail for survival, clawing their way through the mud and corpses to rise above the others as tyrants.
But look where they were now - the fools that the fate of the entire world relied on.
“I need to live,” Tav said. He laughed without humor, and tightened his grip on Astarion’s hand. “I died today.”
“It happens to the best of us,” Astarion said, offering a weak smile.
Tav shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I just fucking died and now I’m going to die again. The moment I finally get free, it’s going to be torn away from me.”
Astarion shifted to sit on his knees and brought both Tav’s hands into his. The tiefling looked at him, pain in his eyes and a snarl curling his lips. Astarion looked deeply into him.
“Then you will die fighting for something you love.”
“No, no,” Astarion said when Tav tried to speak. “It’s my turn. And you’re going to listen very carefully to every word I say.”
Astarion adjusted his position to sit on his knees, facing Tav and taking both of his hands.
“I don’t give a damn about whatever you think is going to happen. The elder brain, the fucking illithid empire, even the tadpoles in our skulls. Mind flayers, Absolute cultists, even damned Dead Three…none of it means a thing. They will all burn.
“Because I’m never going to let you go. If Ao himself demanded that the skies fall and we with it, it would not happen. Anything that tries to come between us will die screaming.
“I pity them. They will beg for mercy beneath our feet, and we will deny it together, hand in hand.”
Astarion slid off on his knees and settled onto Tav’s lap, holding his face in both hands.
“You are not going to die. I will not allow it.”
Astarion leaned forward and kissed him. He pulled back after a bare moment and brushed the hair from Tav’s face.
Tav’s heart yearned, and it hurt. The entire crushing weight of doom was his to bear, and there was nothing there to whisper to him anymore. It was just him, and the lover he held in his arms.
Tav pressed his face into Astarion’s neck, and the other man sunk his hand into the curls on the back of Tav’s head to hold him there. Tav shifted to kiss his neck, once, gently.
“Even if you’re wrong and we all die tomorrow…I am glad to have spent my one night of freedom with you.”