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The meeting with the Gur has been… tense, to say the least. They had thrown accusations at Astarion, chiding him for having the gall to return after what he had done. You had reached a resolution peacefully, luckily, but tensions were still high.
You had to kill Cazador.
Obviously, you had already been planning on it. Besides the face value issue of a Vampire being an upper class citizen of Baldur’s Gate, he had harmed your friend. After your first night together, when you saw his scars, you slowly gained trust and built a relationship with the vampire- one not founded on lies and deceit. He shared his trauma, all the long years he had to spend under Cazador.
It was hard to swallow- not that you were even alive to have helped him, but the guilt still nagged the back of your mind. It’s honestly a miracle how kind he is, after all of that. You know if you were in his place, you would’ve done the same- build tall walls around yourself, hesitate to help others- and probably then some.
Astarion had seemingly handled the confrontation well. Even when insulted and told nothing he could do would ever redeem himself, he kept calm and didn’t get testy. You could tell your campmates were shocked, having expected the same aggressive vampire that had held a knife to your throat at your first meeting.
Despite his flippant attitude, you saw right through him. How could you not, after he finally let you chip at the walls surrounding him? You all had returned to camp shortly after. The sun was setting, and you could tell Astarion needed some time to think. Even with the threat of the Absolute storming Baldur’s Gate, your little group was relieved to turn in a little earlier than normal.
At dinner, Astarion was noticeably absent. No one commented on it, but you could tell by the wandering and searching eyes of everyone that they were concerned. You sigh, standing up.
“I’ll go look for him,” you announce, turning and walking away before anyone could question you. Not that they probably would’ve, considering you were the only person Astarion had opened up to.
It didn’t take long. You found him off in a corner of the camp, sitting at the edge of the cliff that overlooks Baldur’s Gate. Wordlessly, you join him, sitting down with a comfortable distance between you- you weren’t sure if he wanted some time alone, and certainly didn’t want to smother him.
There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you. He looks over at you, a small but sad smile on his face. You smile back, encouraging him to talk but not pressuring. After about a minute of silence, he speaks up.
“Seeing the Gur, it reminded me of Cazador,” he starts. The word Cazador is nearly spitten, laced with venom and pain. You nod, letting him know you’re listening.
“All the times I had to lure back victims,” he looks distant. “I can’t even remember which ones were their kids. And I don’t know whether that's a good thing or not.”
You scoot closer, placing a comforting hand on his thigh. “I don’t think you need to know,” you say softly.
He looks upwards, gazing at the stars as he thinks. “I want to kill Cazador,” he begins. “He took so much from me, made me harm people- use my body- just for his means. So he can become some pseudo god.”
His hand moves to the one you have on his thigh, taking it and slowly interlacing your fingers. “My mind is just so… jumbled, with emotions,” he sighs. “All the pain from those 200 years, the love you give me.” He glances down at your intertwined hands, “the love I don’t deserve after taking advantage of so many whose only want was that.”
You squeeze his hand, trying to think of a response. “That wasn’t you, though,” you say slowly. “It was Cazador, using you as a tool- a vessel for his own cruel desires.” His thumb runs along the back of your hand, cold but filling you with warmth. “You had no choice, it was obey or die.”
He looks at you, his face ridden with sadness, “I was just trading my life for so many,” he pauses. “I’m selfish. I wanted to live, and by doing so I doomed so many to a cruel and lonely death.”
You place your other hand on your intertwined ones, cupping his hand between yours. “And so many people would have done the same, Astarion. No one can condemn you for something they would’ve done if put in the same situation,” you debate him.
He doesn’t answer, turning back to look over the city. You don’t say anything either, giving him the time he needs to process everything in his head.
After a few minutes, you decide to break the silence, “You’re worthy of love, Astarion.” You gently cup his cheek, turning his head to you. “And I will keep loving you until you realize that, and then love you for even longer. For all of my eternity, I will be there for you.”
“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice fragile. He leans into your hand cupping his cheek, closing his eyes, taking in your warm and loving touch.
“I’ll say it however much and often you need my love,” you smile. You lean in slowly, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to show him all the love your words can’t describe.
After a few moments, you pull away, resting your forehead against his. Astarion looks into your eyes, but this time he looks almost calm.
He pulls back after a moment, glancing back towards the main area of camp. “It’s dinner, shouldn’t you be eating?” he asks, nodding towards your campmates and the fire.
“Food could wait, I wanted to check on you,” you chuckle, rubbing patterns onto his hand. “I don’t mind eating it cold. It’s just soup, nothing too fancy.”
Astarion shakes his head, smiling softly. “Well, we can’t have our fearsome leader falling to malnutrition.” He stands up, holding his hand down to help you up. You take it glady, standing up beside him.
“I won’t forget this,” he whispers to you before he lets go of your hand.
“If you do, I’ll be sure to remind you every chance I get,” you smile at him. “Let’s go join the others.”