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A loud wail pierces through the quiet of the dimly lit room. Gale startles awake in a daze; he sits up as he turns his head to-and-fro looking for any signs of a disturbance. His eyes sweep across the bedroom, but he notices nothing out of the ordinary. His desk is as cluttered as always, the books lining his shelves don’t seem to be out of place, the once roaring fire in the hearth is dying down, and there are no strange persons in the room with him.
Sensing no danger, he closes his eyes and gently collapses back onto his pillows breathing a deep sigh. His eyes reopen as he tilts his head down; his gaze falls upon the source of the wail, and his lips curl into a tired smile. Swaddled in his arms is a newborn infant. Her face is pinched as she lets her grievances with the world be known.
“Hush now, love, you’re alright,” Gale coos as he rocks the infant in his arms.
The calming motion soothes some of the infant’s ire, but she continues to make small cries as her face roots into Gale’s robe. Gale’s mind is still shrouded in sleep, but as he starts to get an inkling of what she’s after, his thoughts are interrupted by the bedroom door opening. Gale looks up to see Astarion at the entryway, body tense and hand gripping the doorknob. Astarion frantically looks all around the room before his eyes settle on Gale.
“I heard her cry out from all the way downstairs, what happened?”
Gale lets out a chuckle. “I must have dozed off while you were gone. I think the wee one is hungry,” he says as he uses one hand to open his robe and expose his chest. He shuffles the infant in his arms into the right position and she latches onto a nipple.
Astarion’s frame relaxes as he closes the door behind him and approaches the bed. “Ah, well, that’s a relief,” he says as he reaches them. He pauses for a moment, looking down at them both, before gingerly laying down, curling up on his side next to Gale.
“Your mother and Tara are still in the kitchen fussing over dinner preparations,” Astarion says as he lays a hand on Gale’s soft belly, “and that old bat of a midwife finally left some time ago.”
Gale tries not to jostle the infant in his arms as his shoulders’ shake with subdued laughter. “She wasn’t that bad, Astarion.”
Astarion grumbles as he buries his face into Gale’s hair. “I disagree; honestly, the nerve of that woman! Ordering me around and then calling me a hindrance.”
Gale shakes his head in amusement, but lets the matter settle.
Astarion pulls his face back from Gale’s hair to look down at their daughter. The hand on Gale’s belly moves up to stroke her wispy, white hair. “You know, the poor dear still doesn’t have a name.”
Gale hums an acknowledgement, and he relaxes further back into the pillows, eyes lidding. “We never did narrow down our list of names, and my current mental faculties are not quite up to the task of choosing at the present moment.”
Astarion chuckles and presses a kiss to Gale’s neck. “Later then.”
Both are silent as they bask in each other’s presence; the only sounds filling the room are that of the crackling fire and the suckling babe. The prior long and hectic hours spent in labor through the night and into late afternoon are all but forgotten now. Gale is on the verge of dozing off again when Astarion speaks.
“Do you really think we’re ready to raise her?”
Gale laughs. “I fear it’s a little too late for that kind of question, Astarion,” Gale tries to joke, but his playful attitude drops when he turns to see Astarion’s brow furrowed and eyes deep in thought as he looks down at their daughter.
Gale takes a moment to consider the point they’re both at. Several years have now passed since the end of their adventure to defeat the Absolute, but attempting to settle into domestic bliss had proven to be a challenge all of its own. Gale has had a somewhat easier time reacclimating to living in Waterdeep. Sure, he still had his own issues to work through, but the removal of the orb from his chest in exchange for delivering the crown to Mystra had been a great boon for him. But Astarion…
Well, if only killing one’s old master was enough to heal all wounds.
Astarion’s hand has moved from stroking their daughter’s hair to idly tracing her features with his thumb. Gale gently rearranges his hold on the nursing infant so that he can take that hand and intertwine it with his own.
“I know she came as quite the surprise, what with your condition,” Gale says as he looks down at their infant.
Surprise was an understatement. After a string of mornings waking up nauseous and fatigued, Gale had finally relented on seeing a healer. The looks on both of their faces when the cleric had informed them that they were expecting must have been priceless. Some quick research into vampire physiology revealed that a vampire that had recently consumed a significant amount of blood had the potential to produce offspring, and Astarion was indeed well fed nowadays. Gale could only theorize that it hadn’t happened years earlier as a result of Astarion’s centuries of malnourishment.
“But when the initial surprise wore off, all I could feel was excitement. Well, that and some healthy amount of fear; I never quite pictured myself as father material,” Gale says. “Whether or not we're ready, I cannot say. Is anybody ever prepared to be a parent? Is any parent an expert their first time around?” He then turns to look at Astarion. “It's the prospect of a new adventure that thrills me; one I want to share with you, uncertainties and all.”
Astarion is contemplative as he listens to Gale; eyes never leaving their little one. He is silent for a moment more after Gale finishes before speaking again.
“There were so few things I could claim as my own in my centuries of unlife. Even in true, permanent death, it seems Cazador still has a lingering hold on me. Even now I fear losing all that which I hold dear,” he says as he tightens his hold on Gale’s hand. Astarion’s eyes turn glassy as he says, ”Never in my wildest fantasies under Cazador’s thumb did I imagine living the life I do now with you, but I fear that at any moment, it will turn to ash in my hands or that I will ruin it myself.”
Gale’s gaze turns tender as he looks at Astarion, and he raises their intertwined hands up to his lips to press a kiss upon Astarion’s knuckles. “It breaks my heart to see you struggle with such thoughts, my love. Remember that I am here for you, body and soul. I cannot promise what the future may hold; although, I am almost certain that we will make our fair share of mistakes. But we’ve made it through one perilous adventure, and while this new adventure is of a decidedly different nature, I firmly believe that we’re both up for the task.”
Astarion remains silent, but a small smile etches itself onto his face as he curls up as close to Gale as he can, nuzzling into his neck. Gale returns his smile and looks down as he feels their newborn unlatch. She gurgles, content with her filled belly. Gale lets go of Astarion’s hand in order to bring her up to his shoulder and burp her. Once done, he gently lays her in between them on her back.
“I don’t know about you, but I am still quite exhausted after fifteen hours of labor. I did always wonder why they called it that… I need to rest,” Gale says as he lays his head down on his pillows.
Astarion pulls back from Gale’s neck to share a quick kiss with him. “Rest then; I’ll be here to watch over you both,” he says as he stretches out his arm to lay it across Gale.
Gale hums in reply and his eyes fall closed as he drifts off to sleep. Astarion’s eyes linger on Gale’s face for a spell before his gaze drops to the newborn between them. Neither of them knows what the future holds and they are bound to have blunders along the way, but come what may, Astarion feels he can now meet it head on. For now, though, he is content to enjoy the moment for all it is worth.