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When Astarion opens his eyes, it is to the gentle shake of his shoulder. He allows himself a quick glance around the camp to see that most everyone is asleep, and the fire is starting to burn low.
There are no shouts, no scuffling feet, no scent of blood drawn.
The camp is safe; he is safe.
For now.
His gaze flits then to the one who has woken him.
Tav is leaning over him. Even in the dim, flickering campfire light, he can see the sparkle in their eyes, and he instantly hates it.
His plan to secure himself as a desirable companion has gone perfectly thus far. They practically wrapped themselves around his finger all on their own, and they have been easy to lead along. A compliment here, a purred promise there, a gentle touch, a wild night.
They are so easy to manipulate it is almost sickening.
It might be, if Astarion let himself think on it too much, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he glances around camp again and realizes what this must be. Tav’s next words all but confirm it.
“I need you to come with me.” They hold a finger to their lips. “Don’t wake the others.”
He swallows down the disgust and offers Tav a flirty smile, reaching out to let his fingertips feather against their cheek. Just enough of a touch to leave one longing for more. “Anything for you, my sweet.”
Tav hugs themselves impatiently while Astarion shoves his feet into his boots and gets up.
Quietly, of course.
He’s always been good at sneaking through the shadows, but tonight it is almost unbearable. Tav keeps lacing their hands together and drawing him deeper into the woods. He hardly needs such guidance—his night vision is likely better than theirs, being a vampire and all—and it throws him a little to have to adjust himself so that their contact doesn’t break.
They pass a few spots that Astarion tries to suggest would be as good as any for what they are going to get up to.
Each time, Tav just gives him a wide smile or a knowing look and assures him that this will all be worth it.
“Come on.”
When they’re far enough that Astarion is beginning to wonder if their companions will know where to look for them, if they don’t make it back by dawn—the stars are such that it must not be far off—Tav takes an unexpected turn, moving toward a small rocky outcrop and hauling themselves up.
“We’re here.”
Astarion stops at the base, watching as they move higher, before they pause to look down and find him.
A hand motions quickly for him to come up before Tav disappears from view.
Astarion isn’t sure what he expects to find at the top of the rocks, but the nothing that is there is disappointing none-the-less.
Nothing but Tav, anyway.
And him.
And a flat expanse of hard rock that’s about twice the size of a conventional bed. Tav has seated themselves near the center, and pats the spot beside them, smile annoyingly radiant.
Astarion finds himself a little put out for having to have come so far for so little, but he acquiesces to Tav’s beckoning and strolls the short distance to join them.
There is a moment where they sit there, the silence dragging out between them as the sky gets darker still.
Astarion finally steels himself to make the first move, reaching out and catching Tav’s chin to pull them closer. Their lips brush, and he moves quickly away, toward the spot in Tav’s neck where their pulse thrums so temptingly. However, Astarion has not been invited to dine, and he merely presses a kiss there, though he does let his teeth drag over Tav’s skin.
Before he can do more, however, Tav lets out an excited cry and pushes Astarion back. “It’s starting!”
At first, Astarion is lost. His brow pinches as he sits back, appraising Tav.
They, in turn, reach out and gently turn his head so that he is facing forward.
For a second, there is confusion, and then he sees it.
The first rays of dawn coming up over the edge of the world.
For a moment, Astarion forgets everything except for those blossoming golds and pinks and yellows. The clouds look painted, each second a subtly new scene. The world below glistens and shines in the new light, and while he has been largely unimpressed with the wilderness they were so unceremoniously dumped into, even he cannot deny that there is something utterly beautiful about the way the sunlight dances over them.
For the first time, he truly understands the meaning of the word breathtaking.
It is hard to remember so far back, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a sunrise so magnificent.
So simple a thought as it is, it brings the world crashing back, shattering the serenity of the moment.
The sun has risen high enough that the clouds are losing their rosy hues, and the world is becoming its usual array of green and brown.
Astarion fights the bitter bile that rises in him at the thought of how many sunrises he has missed, and glances around, grounding himself with the present.
As he glances to his side, he remembers that he is not alone, and pauses when he meets Tav’s gaze. They are watching him, that same sparkle in their eyes, illuminated now in the morning light. There is more than excitement there, now.
Now, they look so pleased with themselves. That satisfied smile, it…
It throws him.
“Pretty, huh?”
The word is an understatement, but more than that, it is confusing. Astarion wants to ask why Tav would do this. What do they get from this little…it’s not even an adventure, is it?
What was the point?
For the first time since they snuck out of camp, Tav’s expression falters. They glance toward that ever-rising sun. Back at Astarion, back at the sun.
“I figured, after so long in the dark…” Tav’s gaze finally slides away from him. “We haven’t really camped anywhere where there was a good view, so…it only seemed right that you get to see a proper sunrise after so long.”
Astarion finds himself at a loss for words. Just for a moment, of course. He quickly gathers his wits, offers a coy smile. “How…sweet.”
Tav seems relieved. “You did like it, right?”
“It was beautiful,” Astarion murmurs.
Tav’s hand rests on top of Astarion’s for a breath as they lean in and catch him in a quick, chaste kiss. And then they are on their feet again. “Come on. Lae’zel will be grumpy if we take too much longer, and I don’t want Shadowheart to steal my breakfast.”
As they scamper down the rocks, Astarion sits where he is, frozen. His mind tries to make sense of what just happened, but the pieces simply won’t fit together.
Tav already gets what Astarion has to offer.
So, what was the point of this?
There is the faintest whisper of a long-forgotten truth from within the smothered depths of his heart, but he squashes it before the thought can fully form.
Tav calls out to him. Astarion frowns as he glances toward the sun, still so low in the sky.
And then he follows Tav back to camp, watching their hands when Tav laces their fingers together, and struggling with the strange sensation that has settled in his chest. Something foreign, and most unwelcome.
He will need to be more careful going forward.
And he will need to figure out just what game Tav is playing.
By the time they get back to camp, he has found his resolve and his balance. He smiles and teases Tav with honeyed words as a few of their companions cast glances their way, unsurprised that they are returning together, hand in hand.
And he pretends he can’t still feel that whisper that what’s happening now is something he’d all but forgotten could.
Kindness for kindness’ sake doesn’t exist, after all.