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His skin sizzles and crackles where the rising sun touches it, his face pained and fearful. He is turning to ash before your eyes.
“Astarion! Get out of the sun!” Shadowheart shouts.
He starts running, weaving between baskets and crates in his way. You watch as he stumbles across the pier. Not much is left of the graceful and precise movement he showed in battle.
Where the light of the new day heralds a more peaceful time for you and your companions, it will forever haunt your friend, your love.
“Welp, this puts a bit of a damper on that celebration I just proposed,” Gale says.
Karlach grinds her teeth and stomps on the planks beneath her feet. “It’s just not fair!”
“Not fair, indeed,” Wyll says, shaking his head.
You look around, scanning your companion’s faces. The battle you just fought - and won - left its marks, both physical and mental. None of them seem particularly eager to join the festivities in the city.
“I won’t leave him alone in this state. Join us if you want,” you say with a nod in Astarion’s general direction and start moving. The others fall in step with you.
“I doubt he will appreciate a pity party thrown in his name. But—” Gale raises his index finger, “— I’m sure we can find other ways to help.”
“And I think I have an idea how, “ Shadowheart says, picking up the pace. “Wyll, Karlach, I need some help.”
Both nod. “Anytime, soldier.”
You are left standing on the docks with your confusion mirrored on Gale’s face as they hurry off.
“Not much more they could destroy in the city,” you mumble and continue walking.
Gale opens his mouth as though he wants to object, but decides against it.
You make your way to the end of the pier where the sun only just begins to tickle the ground beneath your feet, casting long shadows over the boardwalk.
Deep in one such shadow you spot a figure. Knees loosely tucked to their chest, arms slung around them and head resting atop. A woeful state. One you have seldom seen Astarion in. Fear and frustration take turns darting across his face. He has gained so much and lost so much in the span of less than a tenday.
Gale steps forward, rummaging through his satchel. He takes out a piece of coal and what looks like fur and rubs them between his fingers. You know the spell he is casting.
Just before the darkness blown from Gale’s fingertips envelops Astarion, you catch a glimpse of his face and lock eyes with him. You nod as if to say ‘Trust us.’
“Wha—”
And he is gone, swallowed by empty blackness. You can still hear him, however.
“Marvelous, now nobody can look at my beautiful and burned-up face.” he says, his voice heavy with sarcasm. He clicks his tongue. “Are you pitying me?”
“Not quite.” Gale pauses and raises an eyebrow. “Where I hail from, this is called helping, Astarion. The act of providing assistance and support. But what do I know. I am just a mere wizard with the knowledge to shroud you in magical darkness.”
You can hear Astarion sigh from within the void before you.
“...I suppose I ought to thank you.”
“That’s more like it! Now. I’ll leave you two alone and make sure nobody comes wandering over and starts asking questions.”
You feel your way forward through the darkness until your shoes bump into Astarion’s with a soft thud. Bracing yourself on the shipping crates he tucked himself in between, you sit down next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
He is unusually warm to the touch where the sun scorched him, his skin rough and rugged but already healing. He will be delighted to know that it most likely won’t leave any scars.
You lean closer, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and pulling him towards you. He freezes briefly at the unexpected hug but softens up soon enough, almost melting into your arms. You plant a kiss on his temple and feel him smile.
“Gods damn you and your sweetness.”
Enjoying the comfort of darkness and solitude, you listen to the soft sound of repairs and celebrations in the far distance for a while.
“You don’t need to be here, you know,” he says with a hollow chuckle. “I’m sure there is plenty of fun to be had in the city right now. Especially for its savior. Don’t you dare and pass up the free alcohol you are bound to be showered with. Go and be the hero they see in you!”
A swoosh of air blows past you from his gesturing. There are subtle undertones to his voice contradicting his words and wishes. Your instinct tells you he is rebuilding his facade. Hindsight tells you you’re right. You know him well enough at this point.
“You’re a hero now, too. You helped save the city.”
“Ha! To save myself, darling. Nothing more to it than that.”
You hear him sighing and letting his head fall against the crates in his back.
"Besides. Who would want to spend this glorious morning in the presence of a vampire?” He gives an empty chuckle. “They just defeated one formidable foe, let’s give them some rest before they have to deal with me , shall we? No, they wouldn't want me there.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Fangs!” Karlach’s voice cuts through the darkness like a hammer hitting a nail, heavy and with purpose.
There are steps audible from just a few feet away. Your companions have returned from their little side adventure.
“All right, the sun hasn’t reached your little hidey-hole yet. I am going to lift the spell now. I hope you are…clothed.”
Astarion tsks, back to his cheeky self. “I’m appalled! What do you take me for, Gale?”
You blink rapidly as light floods your eyes. The morning sun has made significant progress on its way across the sky, but you still have plenty of time to get Astarion out of his predicament.
It seems, however, that your companions already devised a plan for just this issue.
You watch as Karlach puts down a wine barrel from under her arm, grabs her greataxe, and swings it in one big arc over her head and down on the wooden planks. Down and through. Right in front of Astarion’s feet.
“Gods, watch where you swing that thing! Some of us are fragile!”
She grins at him as she yanks the axe through the splintered wood, creating an opening to the dark and damp below. “Emergency exit, mate!”
Shadowheart climbs down first and without hesitation, the bag over her shoulder clattering and clanking as she moves.
“Where in the hells are you going?” Astarion asks, peering down into the opening with disdain.
“Not sure yet. Sewers, perhaps?” She peeks back out and tilts her head slightly. “We don’t need a celebration for a night of senseless drinking, do we? Or...morning, I suppose.”
Wyll steps closer, balancing a crate with bottles on his shoulder. “You seemed like the type who would enjoy that.”
“I do, don’t I. … All right, thank you.”
You watch as a smile forms on Astarion’s face that soon turns into a grin, showing off his canines. He glances at the various bottles in the Wyll’s crate and inspects the barrel next to Karlach. The grin grows.
“Oh good. You actually brought the good stuff. Not that pisswater we had when the tieflings stomped all over our campgrounds for a night.”
“It had better be good,” Wyll says. “I still can’t believe we raided the Blushing Mermaid. ”
Shadowheart sighs from below. “It’s fine, Wyll. They won’t even know it’s missing. They would have drunk their cellar dry either way. If not today, then tomorrow. We’re just helping.”
“Quick now, no dillydallying,” Gale says as he rolls his eyes, “we don’t want the sun to creep up on us and turn Astarion into a fried bat. Down you go, everyone.”
One after the other, you jump down the opening into the muddy and dank underside of the docks, entering the vast and mostly unpleasant underbelly of Baldur’s Gate.
You’ve had worse in your travels. In fact, the idea of taking a day to unwind with your companions sounds rather enjoyable, perhaps tucked away somewhere in a dry cave with your camp gear making the place feel almost homey. Resting your head on Astarion’s stomach as you both watch Karlach dance to someone else badly playing a lute you found somewhere. Yes, that sounds lovely.
There will be time to celebrate with the rest of the city later. There will be time to think of what is to come next for you and your love.
For the moment, however, you are happy to see Astarion supported by friends and in good spirits - literally and figuratively - and soak in the general cheery atmosphere of an adventure completed. And what a ride it was.