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When Astarion first arrives at the tower in Waterdeep, he swears the building is unbeatable. Build of a hard stone, protected by magic. Nothing can destroy it. He starts to reconsider his opinion when Gale's aggressive sneezes shake the entire tower and his coughing makes the glass panes tremble.
The vampire ignores the symptoms at first. He's not used to dealing with mortal illnesses, and it's not like a few sneezes and a sore throat ever killed anyone, right?
It is until he's lounging with a book on the plush sofa they purchased together. Gale is sitting beside him, his hands stained from an ink, long parchment in his lap. And then suddenly the human sneezes so strongly, that it sends Astarion’s book flying, as well as the ink that now creates a black puddle on the floor.
"Gosh, apologies," The wizard mutters, his voice hoarse.
The loud sound wakes Tara up from her nap on the top of a bookshelf and she gracefully flies down onto the floor, her paws avoiding the growing black puddle.
“Mister Dekarios, it is time you finally admit you are not well and take a break.”
Astarion smirks at the worry and annoyance mixed in Tara’s voice.
“Yes, Mister Dekarios . Why aren’t you resting?” The vampire adds, which earns him an irritated look from Gale.
“I’m working, you two. The great wizard of Waterdeep cannot rest all day.” Gale’s reply would almost be snarky if it wasn’t for his sniffling.
“Don’t make me inform your mother of your illness,” The Tressym threatens him as she sits in Astarion’s lap.
He already had the pleasure of meeting Gale’s mother and Morena Dekarios has been nothing but kind to him, respecting his boundaries, and not asking too many questions. But there is something in the way she looks at him. Her shocked face when she learnt about his vampirism. Even more shocked when Gale announced their engagement.
Astarion could only imagine how hard it all must have been for her. Her son’s relationship with Mystra, his sudden disappearance and just as sudden return, this time with a vampire fiance by his side.
“I will cook for you.” He finds himself announcing. If he proves he is good for Gale, she will have no choice but to like him.
The vampire gets up, Tara still in his arms. He had seen his friends cook before when one of them was unwell and it didn't look that hard - after all it was just mixing all ingredients together.
He takes the parchment away from Gale’s hands and covers him with a blanket despite the man’s protest. Their eyes meet for a moment and Astarion presses a kiss to his human’s forehead.
His skin is too hot for his liking and he has no idea if it's normal for mortals anymore.
A hearty meal should fix it, the vampire hopes.
His hope wanes when he reaches the tower's kitchen. He eyes the vegetables collected in the cupboards confused. Almost forty years of being a noble who never had to cook followed by two hundred of being a vampire doesn’t make it easier.
He picks up a potato, his nose wrinkling at the powder it leaves on his hand.
“How about a pigeon soup, Mister Ancunín? I could catch one.” Tara’s voice drops suddenly, her pupils fully blown.
“I am not sure what I would have to do next with it, Miss Tara,” He replies, keeping the formal pleasantries between the two of them.
“Oh, it can’t be that difficult. I saw our dear Gale prepare soups plenty of times.” She walks across the counter with the feline grace.
“You put the meat in water and cook it with vegetables. Gale adds herbs later, but I believe we can skip that part.” She giggles at the wizard’s silliness.
“Would you be so kind to catch a pigeon then? I shall, uh, chop the vegetables.”
With Tara out of the kitchen, he grabs a cleaver and begins his task. It doesn’t take long for the high elf to realise that there must be something wrong with his chopping technique, as pieces of potatoes and carrots scatter around the kitchen.
One of the blocks of a bulbous vegetable he can’t even name flies across the room and hits the windowsill just as Tara lands on it, a dead pigeon in her mouth. She drops it beside Astarion and smiles at his handiwork.
“Mister Ancunín, I’ve always known you were good with a knife but this is quite impressive.”
The vampire takes a step back to look at the pile of chunky vegetables on the counter.
“You think so?” He turns his attention to the dead bird. “I believe we should remove the feathers now before we put it in the water.”
Tara’s little pink nose scrunches as she watches Astarion pick up the pigeon.
“I do not think this is necessary. The feathers will add a certain crispiness to the soup after all.”
Astarion is sure he saw Gale pluck the birds before cooking anything and he doesn’t remember ever consuming a bird with feathers back when he was a mortal. He is also sure Tara has more experience than him when it comes to domestic matters.
Against his better judgment, he puts the bird and all the vegetables in a pot above the furnace.
He turns to Tara with a toothy smile that she returns. “And now we wait.”
They spend their time exchanging news about their friends and Waterdeep when a terrible smell of burning flesh fills the kitchen followed by a smoke.
“Tara, is setting food on fire part of the meal?”
He knows it is not. He should have removed those feathers and stopped asking a cat for advice.
Once the pot is removed from the fire, nothing remains of the ingredients, but a black tar. Astarion sits on a wooden stool with a resigned sigh and fights the urge to slap his forehead.
Gale is sick and he can’t even take care of him. His wizard is sick because he’s been overworking himself to support the two of them because Astarion cannot even go outside to find a job during the day. How is he supposed to be Gale’s husband one day if he can’t support him at all?
A crackling sound and an electrifying feeling of Weave break him free from his depressing thoughts and bring his attention to the portal materialising in the kitchen. Without his weapons, he grabs the cleaver, almost cringing at how unprepared he is. Can’t he even protect Gale from intruders now?
It’s the voice that he hears first before the light of the portal disperses.
“Why aren’t you answering the door? I’ve been knocking for ages, Gale!”
Morena Dekarios looks and behaves just as one would expect from the wizard’s mother. That includes dramatic uses of portals and awkward greetings.
As soon as the brown-haired woman notices that her son is missing from the kitchen and instead she is facing the vampire with a cleaver, she smiles shyly.
“Oh, hello. I was expecting my son here.” Her forehead and nose wrinkle. “Is something burning?”
Astarion prays for some kind of divine intervention that will turn him into ash akin to the remnants of his and Tara’s soup.
“Yes… Me and Tara are cooking for Gale. It’s, uh, a special recipe from Avernus.”
He gestures towards Tara only to realise the space beside him is now very much Tressym-free.
The last thing he needs now is for Gale’s mother to think he’s insane.
To her credit, Morena’s smile becomes more genuine as she peeks at the smoking pot.
“Forgive my interruption then. I am sure Gale will appreciate such a… romantic surprise.”
No, the last thing he needs now is for Gale’s mother to think about their romantic life. He feels like a teenager again.
“It is not like this!” He protests. “I am just trying to make him feel better since he’s sick."
“Gale is sick?” The woman interrupts him, worry clearly visible in her eyes.
“Ah, he, uh, yes?” The vampire stutters, gesturing wildly.
She shakes her head and tuts.
“I knew he looked under the weather.” She sighs. “This is my son's side you will have to deal with. He’s too proud to admit he is not immune to a cold. It is my fault, of course. I made a mistake when I let him introduce himself as ‘Gale of Waterdeep’ when he was just a child.”
Astarion smiles despite himself and his nerves.
“Would you like me to cook something together with you?” Ms Dekarios asks him.
“Yes, I would.” His throat feels weirdly dry.
Gale’s mother explains her process slowly and shows him how to choose the ingredients. There’s no malice in her voice, only kindness.
She chuckles at his attempt at cutting vegetables and with his permission, she guides his hand. Her hands are warm and slightly wrinkly and he can’t help but to think about his own mother, wherever she is.
Once the soup is cooking, this time smelling exquisite, Morena clasps her hands together.
“Keep it up, Astarion and soon you’ll be a better cook than Gale. You might even end up baking your wedding cake.”
The mention of the wedding brings back the anxious feeling. He loves Gale oh so much and it would kill him again to make the wizard waste his time on someone like him.
He sends Morena a smile hoping she doesn’t notice how tense he is.
He makes his way up the tower’s steep stairs back to the living room and back to Gale. Much to his dismay, the wizard has managed to untangle himself from the blanket but there is Tara resting beside him, Gale’s hand petting her slowly.
When he notices his fiancé holding a tray of food, a curious smile appears on his face.
“For me?” His voice is still horribly hoarse.
Astarion places the tray with soup in his lap and takes a seat in front of the sofa.
“You are awfully quiet. I am not used to hearing such short and direct sentences from you, my love.”
The wizard rolls his eyes at him, which is a good sign, an indicator that he is recovering.
Gale tries the soup hesitantly and the vampire cannot blame him. However, he lets out a raspy moan.
“This is amazing, Astarion. I cannot believe you hid such a talent from me.”
“I did have a bit of help,” He admits.
“From Tara?” Gale’s voice is full of pride as he looks at the Tressym.
“Well, no. From your mother.”
“My mother?” The happy look on the wizard’s face changes into a slightly annoyed one. “She is in our kitchen, isn’t she?”
‘Our kitchen’ . It fills his dead heart with warmth.
“You two stay here and enjoy the meal. I will accompany Morena. We have a lot to catch up on,” Tara says and she stretches her paws, before disappearing down the staircase.
Left alone, Astarion looks at Gale with a smile.
“She showed me a few cooking tricks. I might teach her how to pick locks in return.” The vampire sits beside his lover and presses a kiss to the top of his head.
He forgot how it is to have a family. Any positive interactions between him and his siblings were out of necessity and survival, and his real family was long forgotten. His life after the nautiloid abduction gave him his freedom and a sort of a new family. One that he chose. His group of weirdos.
And then there is Gale who offered him his heart and invited him into his home and his family.
He watches Gale eat, quieting the man when he tries to talk too much despite his sore throat.
“Rest, please.” Astarion’s voice is soft as he covers the wizard with a blanket and picks up the dishes.
“Will you join me here later?”
“Of course. Let me just talk to your mother a while longer and I am all yours,” He replies accentuating the last four words.
“I am glad you like her. She likes you very much, Astarion.”
He doesn’t reply, unable to come up with a witty remark.
When he returns to the kitchen, he hears Morena and Tara’s lively conversation.
“Baldur’s Gate should be warm this time of the year. We could portal everyone there.”
Tara chuckles. “Mister Ancunín needs to tend to the guest list himself. I am not sure he will want the Sage of Shadowdale to be invited.”
When the woman and the cat notice Astarion in the doorway, their conversation ends abruptly. Morena Dekarios smiles at him, a tint of blush on her tanned cheeks.
“You will have to forgive the two old women for gossiping. We haven’t had a wedding in our family in such a long time and to be frank with you, I never expected to be the groom’s mother. It is all… very exciting.”
He takes a seat next to the two of them and he gives up on fighting his own smile.
“Oh, please, ladies. I would be very happy to be included in the gossip. I will need your guidance through all the exquisite members of the Dekarios clan. Who to avoid, the sitting placement that will prevent bloodshed. All of those details.”
The smile that Morena Dekarios flashes at him is mischievous almost. She starts explaining the complicated family nuances and shocking gossip and soon the evening sky turns into deep dark.
“Look at that! It is already so late.” She smiles at Astarion. “Well, not for you. Gale is in good hands but please do inform me if you need anything.”
They both hesitate for a second and to his own surprise, it is he who makes the first step and hugs the woman.
“Thank you for your help. I am quite useless in the kitchen.”
She puts her hands on his shoulders.
“Don’t mention it. We are a family.”
We are a family. The words stay in his head when he presses his body to Gale’s back and buries his face in the man’s brown hair. He slips into his trance peacefully, comforted by the other man’s warmth.