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"The only thing good about this time of year," Astarion said as he stood to the side of the bedroom window, looking out at the street below, "is that the days are shorter and the nights longer, so I don't have to spend quite as much time skulking in the shadows. Even better when it's overcast."
"Really? That's the only thing you can think of?" Ianis was sat on their bed, pulling on and lacing up his boots. He looked over at Astarion and frowned slightly.
"Well, what else is there? There is a very good reason this time of year is called Deadwinter, after all." Astarion sighed - a very pointed gesture since he didn't need to breathe - and turned to face Ianis. "Listen, ivaebhin - I will come out with you. We will go wander the streets and go look at whatever you want - maybe even buy a trinket or two. But you cannot make me enjoy it."
But Ianis just smiled. "Challenge accepted."
The cold weather had, of course, brought with it a generous amount of snow and ice that covered not just the roofs and walls, but the cobbled streets as well. Icicles of varying lengths hung from porches and the overhanging edges of roofs and gutters, catching the light from candles inside and out as well as from the various street lamps that dotted the better-off and more popular areas of the city.
In some of the more heavily-walked areas of the city, most of the snow and ice was already long gone from the ground, due to a combination of so many people walking along and the judicious use of salt to help clear the paths. But there were still plenty of places where the ground was still slick with ice, especially in some of the side streets and alleys, and on far too many steps and inclines that were almost lethally treacherous. Especially if you were already predisposed towards clumsiness, as Ianis was. Even after six or so months together, Astarion still found it sometimes difficult to show affection to Ianis publically - real, genuine affection, not the performative displays he had needed to put on with others for so long - but Astarion kept his hand firmly entwined with Ianis' as they stepped out of their home together. If he had to link their arms together to make sure to stop the younger man from slipping, falling and potentially breaking something - probably himself - then that's what he'd do.
The fact that Ianis was just happy to be holding hands with Astarion certainly didn't hurt matters.
Throughout the streets, a large number of children were apparently engaged in a city-wide snowball fight. they ran through the streets, darting and weaving around the people who were just trying to go places without falling down on the ice or getting hit by an errant snowball. There was a lot of laughter, whooping and cheering from the children as they played, as they were determined to make the most of the snowy weather.
"I suppose this was you once, probably not all that long ago?" Astarion asked while Ianis took a moment to stop and brush snow from one arm of his coat - that favourite black velvet coat of his that had somehow survived everything they had gone through - gods and elder brains and evil vampire masters and more besides (Astarion strongly suspected magical intervention) - where he had been clipped by a stray snowball. Ianis smiled, but it wasn't quite the bright, joyful smile that came with recalling a childhood memory that Astarion might have expected from him.
"Well... yes and no," he said, eyes tracking a pair of children who were using other passers-by for cover as they tried to snipe each other with snowballs. "My brothers and I would always join in with the other children whenever it snowed, and we'd build things in the snow and go sledging and have snowball fights... But at some point, it always seemed to become 'Everyone Else Throws Snowballs at Ianis', and someone would always put rocks or something in theirs, and..." He sighed a little. "Then I'd get to watch my brothers getting into a fight with whoever threw that snowball, and then it would be the three of us doing a walk of shame back home, trying not to bleed too much on the snow or our winter clothes on the way." But then his smile became the bright one Astarion had originally expected. "But then we'd get home and all the fireplaces would all be blazing and we'd sit there in front of the biggest one getting warm again. And we'd have hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Which pretty much made everything else worth it."
Ianis reached out to a nearby wall, scooping up a handful of snow with one hand, before beginning to absently shape it into a ball, tossing it idly from hand to hand. "You've got that look on your face again," he pointed out. "That one where you're trying to work out if you should be feeling sorry for me or not - or possibly if you should be considering going and hunting down my childhood bullies and introducing them to the sharp ends of your daggers. But for every time I got bullied when I was growing up, there were four or five times that were great. Wonderful. Like the time our father was able to join us one day when it had snowed really heavily, and the four of us built a small army of snow soldiers on the grounds of our home. Or the time we all went to the biggest hill in the whole city and had sledging races down it; my father and I against the twins. My early childhood was... good. So stop worrying about me, or..." He looked over at Astarion, and there was a mischievous smirk on his face, and Astarion suddenly realised what he planned on doing with that snowball.
"No," he said firmly. "Yan, don't you dare. I mean it. I will leave you right here to stumble and fall your way home if you dare dump that snowball on me."
Ianis actually pouted at that... but it was clearly a fake pout because his eyes were still smiling. "Fine," he said, and started to look around for a suitable alternative target. Eventually, he saw the slightly-swinging sign of a nearby public house, and took aim with his snowball at that. As usual, Ianis' aim was uncannily accurate (uncanny because Astarion knew how bad he was in so many other areas that required hand-eye coordination) and the snowball hit the centre of the sign dead on... And the resulting sudden movement of the sign caused a clump of snow that had been balancing precariously on the edge of the guttering next to the sign to drop directly on a well-dressed couple who had just stepped outside.
"Oops," Ianis said, trying not to laugh as the couple harumphed and tried to shake the worst of the snow from their hair and clothes.
"Excellent aim though. If only I could teach you to use a bow and arrow…"
They continued making their way through the streets (trying their best to look innocent and unassuming as they passed the snow-dampened and dappled couple) and as they walked Astarion noticed the little puffs of breath that Ianis was regularly breathing out as they went. There were already bright red spots on Ianis' cheeks and the tip of his nose as well, and Astarion realised he hadn't appreciated just how cold it was that evening. Of course, he wouldn't have noticed the cold as much, but... Astarion glanced down at their hands, and Ianis' hand in his already looked noticeably paler from the cold as well.
"You aren't cold?" he asked. Ianis shrugged, apparently unbothered.
"You know, the cold's never really bothered me all that much," he admitted. "I mean, I was born, abandoned and found on one of the coldest days of the year - maybe I just developed a tolerance or resistance to it or something."
"Is that also why you keep sticking your feet out from under the bedcovers?"
"Maybe."
They had reached a part of the city now where an outdoor market had been set up, and the ground was completely free of snow and ice, due to all the footfalls, and that some stallholders had spread salt and sawdust across the ground as well. Astarion still kept tight hold of Ianis' hand though, as though he was afraid that if he let go, the younger man would vanish into the crowds and he would never see him again.
Astarion was also quite surprised that Ianis celebrated Deadwinter Day as enthusiastically and excitedly as he did. As someone from a noble family of some considerable renown back in Athkatla, Astarion would have expected him to be more familiar with the High Festival of Winter instead... until he remembered that Ianis was not at all fond of the politics and diplomatic wrangling that the High Festival usually entailed. No, as with so many other things, his ivaebhin just wanted to see people happy and enjoying themselves - and Astarion loved him all the more for it.
"I need to visit a stall over there," Ianis said, gesturing to their left. "Will you be okay waiting here on your own for... five-ten minutes?"
"I'm not allowed to come with you?" Astarion asked, and now he was pouting. "Are you ashamed to be seen with me?"
"No, nothing like that!" Ianis was instantly flustered, and Astarion loved it. There was just something so sweetly charming about his reactions to being teased, even now. "It's just that... there's a perfume stall set up down that way, and I know how all those strong scents together can give you a headache, and…"
"Yan," Astarion said, and now he was smiling, "it's okay. You can go and pick up whatever gift you have planned for me, and I will wait here until you're done."
"...It was supposed to be a surprise." Ianis sighed.
"Then I will be suitably surprised when you give it to me. Besides, I don't know what it is, do I?"
Ianis smiled, relaxing. "I really won't be long," he promised, leaning in to kiss Astarion. The kiss was sweet, and chaste enough for public consumption while also subtly promising more later on. Ianis' teeth lightly grazed Astarion's lower lip and very gently tugged at it for a split second. Astarion almost didn't want to let him go... but he had plans of his own forming now, that required some time apart from Ianis as well.
"Please try not to get involved in any plots to stop a sinister takeover of the city, or get kidnapped by Beholders... or come back with any scruffy street urchins that you just have to adopt."
Ianis mock-pouted again. "Oh no, you guessed your surprise!"
Astarion swatted playfully at him. "Behave - at least while we're in public," he warned Ianis as the young man moved off into the crowd. Once he was sure that Ianis was far enough away to not be able to spot him, Astarion moved into the crowds himself.
He made a point of moving against the crowd whenever he could, because it made it easier to bump into people and still make it all seem perfectly natural. Astarion also paid particular attention to those who looked to be much wealthier than those around them, as well as those who looked as though they had already done their shopping and would presumably be less likely to notice if their coin purses got a bit lighter.
Somewhere nearby, a bard had sent himself up and was singing some sort of children's song about a magical snow golem who came to life in order to dance and play with the local children. It all sounded very suspicious and unsafe to Astarion - teaching children it was alright to go off with strange creatures just because they seemed like 'fun'. But everyone else around him seemed quite taken by the song, and Astarion took the opportunity to pickpocket a few more distracted rich people.
By the time he had found everything he had wanted, as well as the money to pay for it, however, it had been more than the agreed-upon time to meet back up with Ianis, and Astarion made his way quickly back to that spot. Everyone else around him seemed intent on moving so slowly though, and it was frustrating. And when he got back to the spot where he and Ianis had planned to meet back up and he didn't immediately see his lover... Astarion was still constantly aware, in the back of his mind, that there had to be a few members of Gortash's inner circle who had managed to escape when they had brought his plans crashing down (quite literally), and Ianis was still quite recognisable as the 'Hero of Baldur's Gate', and the gods knew he wasn't always the most aware of his surroundings…
But then he spotted him, just a short way from the original planned meeting spot, and the tension flowed out of him. There was a lake in the centre of the park where the Deadwinter outdoor market had been set up, which had of course frozen solid in the cold weather. Barriers had been set up around the lake, and people had gathered around them to watch as several men and women skated across the ice in intricate patterns. And Ianis was there, watching - his black coat and raven-black hair standing out even in the late evening twilight because of the way his hair caught both the candlelight and the newer, multi-coloured lights that had been strung up in garlands throughout the area. They were a deep gnome invention, and involved some sort of chemical reaction to create the different colours similar to fireworks, or so Astarion had read.
He moved quickly over to Ianis, stepping into place alongside him without saying a word. The young man didn't seem to react at first, but Astarion could see him smiling.
"Where did you disappear to?" he asked, even as he leaned in towards Astarion, resting his head lightly on the vampire's shoulder. "Did you get hungry?"
"Hmm? Oh, no - I just had to go handle something and it took me a little longer than I expected," Astarion replied, putting an arm around Ianis's shoulders and holding him close. "Nothing for you to worry about." He kissed Ianis lightly on the top of the head. "So what are we watching here?"
"Ice dancing in honour of Auril," Ianis explained. "See, if you look carefully, you can see that they're moving to create six-pointed snowflake patterns on the ice, which is one of the sacred symbols of Auril." He paused to think for a moment. "It's probably meant as a ritual of appeasement to her," he added, "because they're also known for trying to summon winter storms to glorify her."
"Well, I definitely hope it is the former and not the latter." Astarion glanced down at Ianis' face. The red across his cheeks was still there, and had even grown somewhat, now covering more of his cheeks - and starting to look even a little raw from the cold air. His hands were terribly white now as well; even paler than Astarion's as they rested on the wooden barrier in front of them. "You really do look cold, Yan. Are you sure you are okay?"
Ianis looked down at his hands and rubbed them together for a moment. "Hmm. Maybe I am a little cold," he admitted. "I can't feel my fingers as much as I probably should be able to."
Instinctively, Astarion reached down to take Ianis' hands in his own, trying to rub some warmth back into them... but of course his own hands weren't that much warmer. "Come on, he said, keeping Ianis' hands cupped in his for the moment, for what little good it did. "Let's get you somewhere warmer; try to get some feeling back into your fingers." He kept one of Ianis' hands held tight in his own as he led them both out of the park and the outdoor market, and back into the streets, moving at a far brisker pace now that they were on ice-free streets once more.
"You're brooding a little," Ianis pointed out as they moved between the other people in the streets. "What's wrong?"
Astarion sighed a little. "I do not like that I cannot do something as simple as warm your hands when they are cold and numb like this," he admitted. "It is something that everyone else can do, and no doubt takes for granted, but I... I can feel how cold your hands are, even against my own skin, but I am utterly unable to do anything about it."
"So?" Ianis replied. "Astarion... If all that mattered to me was being warm, I'd buy a hot water bottle." He leant in again as they walked, resting his head against Astarion's chest. "Or I'd have gone for Karlach... but honestly, I don't think she and I were each other's types all that much. I'm happy with you, regardless of whether or not you can do little things like warm my hands up in the middle of winter or not." He looked up at Astarion, blue and violet eyes bright, and smiled. "And I always will be."
And that was something that both continued to astound Astarion and filled him almost to overflowing with adoration - the fact that Ianis continued to love him and want him, despite everything he'd done in the past and all his shortcomings and failings. And as the time went on, and every day brought more happiness with him, Astarion was starting to believe it more and more.
They made their way to a nearby inn; one that was decorated again with candles and garlands or coloured lights alongside other garlands made up of coloured foils that reflected all the lights as well. A large wreath made up of evergreen branches and sprigs of holly hung on the door. "Here," Astarion said, "this place should have all their fireplaces blazing to keep their patrons warm."
Inside, the inn was crowded, but not so packed that it was impossible to find somewhere to sit. The two of them managed to find a table in a corner (good so that they could both have their back to a wall), and Astarion sat Ianis down before heading to the bar for a drink for him. "Sit here and get some colour and feeling back into your fingers," he told Ianis. "I will be right back."
Ianis smiled. "Try not to stab anyone at the bar."
"Really? I am full of the spirit of the season - I would never do anything like that. Kosh them across the back of the head, maybe, but no deliberate bloodletting." He flashed a quick smile to assure Ianis that he wasn't actually planning on assaulting anyone at the bar – probably.
In truth, the inn was quite uncomfortably crowded in places, particularly at the bar, but Astarion had spent literal decades navigating spaces such as this, and so it was second nature to him to dodge and weave his way through the crowds of people. the bard he had heard earlier seemed to be at the inn now as well - now he was singing what must have been an Aurilian hymn, calling for more snow to fall because they wanted to stay inside and enjoy themselves.
By the time he returned to their table, a steaming mug in his hand, Astarion saw that Ianis was now talking to a small group of people who had apparently recognised him as the Hero of Baldur's Gate and either wanted to thank him for saving all their lives, or were trying to curry favour with him for whatever reason. And of course Ianis was far too nice and polite to try to get them to leave him alone, even when he was clearly starting to become uncomfortable with the attention.
"Am I interrupting something?" Astarion asked as he approached and sat down at their table. He made sure to smile in just the right way that flashed his fangs at the other people for just a second as he did so. The citizens of Baldur's Gate knew of course that Ianis hadn't single-handedly defeated 'Archduke' Gortash and his Elder Brain, but Ianis had been the 'face' of their group for so long before that event occurred - much to Ianis' confusion and occasional dismay - and so he was the one that everyone recognised and flocked to. But people also knew that there had been a sudden and unusual influx of vampires in the city, or so the rumours claimed, and so people were probably on the lookout for them as well. And if Astarion could use that to chase people away from their table without making too much of a scene…
And the strangers did indeed back away slightly, looking a little bit startled and unsure of things for a moment. Ianis, of course, kept smiling welcomingly at them and shaking their hands... but there was a look in his eyes that said he was very glad that Astarion was back, but was far too polite to say anything otherwise.
"The price of fame," Astarion said when the others had finally left and it was just the two of them at the table again. "Almost makes you wish we had left the Elder Brain alone to do its thing, hmm?"
"They're just grateful," Ianis replied, as diplomatically gracious as ever. "I don't really mind - I just wish they'd respect my personal space." He looked at the steaming mug that Astarion had brought back with him. "What's that?"
Astarion pushed the mug over to him. "For you," he said. "Sorry it took longer than I expected - it took the staff rather too long to find some ground cloves and something to whip the cream up with." It was a large mug - really more of a beer stein - of hot chocolate, complete with a thick topping or 'head' of whipped cream and generous sprinkles of ground cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. When Ianis realised what it was, his eyes both widened and lit up in surprise and joy.
"You..." he said, and for a brief moment Astarion thought he might have overdone it and made Ianis so happy that he was going to cry. "You got it right."
"I know I might sometimes affect an air of disinterest and self-centredness, love, but I do actually listen to everything you say," he said with a smile. "And I would ask if I got it right, but I would hope that the smile on your face is giving me that answer... correct?"
"Oh yes," Ianis assured him, and his smile grew even wider and brighter. "This is like being a child again. You're just... wonderful!" And he leant over and kissed Astarion - briefly, but lovingly and excitedly.
"Well, you should make sure you drink it, before it gets cold." And it genuinely was warming Astarion's soul to see Ianis so happy, so joyful. Maybe there really was something to this holiday after all - or at the very least, there was something to it when spending it with the man he loved.
Ianis picked up the oversized mug with both hands, sighing for a moment when his cold hands came into contact with the warm surface there, and raised it up to take a long drink from it. When he put the mug back down, however, Astarion had to stop himself from laughing out loud - because Ianis had managed to get a large blob of whipped cream on the very tip of his nose.
"That was incredible," he said, smiling broadly. "Thank you so much." There was a line of cream and hot chocolate above his upper lip as well, but he seemed more aware of that, and his tongue came out to lick most of it away. He noticed the look on Astarion's face and cocked his head to the side, a little puzzled. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just that... you have a little something, just... here." Astarion reached out and, with two fingers, gently wiped the blob of cream from the tip of Ianis' nose and showed it to him with a smile. "Were you saving it for later?"
Ianis pouted for a moment, but that didn't last long before he was laughing again. Astarion reached in closer with his cream-coloured fingers, allowing Ianis to lick them clean. Which, Astarion very quickly realised, was a mistake, because the way Ianis did so was... Ianis didn't just lick the cream from Astarion's fingers (although that would have been enough, with the way Ianis' tongue slid all over his fingers in long stripes and spirals) but he also sucked at the fingers as well; his lips and mouth forming a tight seal around them. His cheeks even hollowed out for a moment as he sucked, and his mouth was hot and wet against Astarion's cool skin.
"I think you should stop doing that," Astarion said, his voice wavering a little. He couldn't take his eyes off what Ianis was doing, and from the look in Ianis' eyes, he knew exactly what he was doing to his lover. "It's hardly... suitable for public consumption."
Smirking, Ianis pulled back from Astarion's now-clean fingers. "You're right," he agreed, "but you have to admit... it was fun."
"You can be absolutely wicked when you want to be, did you know that?"
"And you love it."
The two of them sat there and talked for a while, and laughed, and Astarion watched Ianis drinking his hot chocolate and marvelled at what his life had become. None of this would ever have even crossed his mind six months ago - it would have been far beyond even his wildest pipe dreams. Simply sitting in an inn, talking about nothing in particular with one of the most beautiful people he had ever known - inside and out - and knowing they were together, and free, and they loved each other more than words could possibly say... It felt so good. More than good, even – incredible.
"How are your hands?" he asked Ianis. The young man had been holding onto his mug of hot chocolate with both hands, and Astarion could see a pink flush spreading through them - and Ianis' face - but he wanted to be sure.
"Tingling," Ianis admitted with a reassuring smile. "Not exactly sore, but definitely letting me know my circulation is coming back. Thank you - for taking care of me. As usual. I'm not always good at noticing stuff like this... as you know."
"I'll always take care of you. Just as you take care of me."
By the time Ianis had finished his hot chocolate, the inn was getting more crowded, and Astarion could see Ianis getting almost imperceptibly tenser and more nervous though. His confidence had grown considerably over the last several months, certainly, but Astarion knew that Ianis still had limits, and he suspected he was reaching them. As was Astarion, if he was perfectly honest. Too many people, not enough space…
"Do you want to head home?" he asked Ianis. "Far be it for me to suggest that we turn in and have an early night, but... I think we should move things to somewhere a little more... private?"
Ianis raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he replied. "Sounds like you have something in mind."
"Well, I do have to give you your present..." Astarion smiled, licking his lips. In response, Ianis smiled broadly.
"I knew I could get you into the holiday spirit," he said, grinning.
"Lies. And if you ever dare tell anyone, I will deny everything."
***
The temperature outside had dropped as night had fallen, and snow had begun to fall again as the two of them started to make their way back home. There were less people in the streets now, as most of them were thinking like Astarion and Ianis and seeking shelter indoors, in the warmth, and so most people were either in inns or back in their own homes. Ianis leant in to Astarion as they walked, seeking closeness rather than warmth, and the two of them had their arms around each other as they went. Just a regular, ordinary couple in love, walking home on a snowy night.
"This is nice," Ianis said as they walked, a little carefully as the streets were icing up again, even in some of the areas that had previously been salted. "You, the snow, the lights... all of it. It's nice."
"Just 'nice'?" Astarion replied. "That's the only word you can come up with to describe me? 'Nice'?"
"Alluring. Magnificent. Stunning. Wonderful." Ianis smiled. "Shall I go on?”
"Oh, but of course! You know full well that the way to my heart is through flattery and petty vanity." Astarion grinned back, showing perfect white teeth and sharp vampire fangs. "But make it a good one."
"Hmm." Ianis thought hard for a moment. "How about... pulchritudinous?"
"...that entirely depends on what it means."
"Physically beautiful," Ianis explained. "Comely."
"Oh, that definitely qualifies then." Astarion lightly kissed the top of Ianis' head. "Such a talented tongue..." In response, Ianis giggled, slightly embarrassed.
Their home was small - not cramped, but cozy - and it wasn't particularly opulent or ostentatious... but just enough. Among the many financial investments and assets that Ianis' family held in Athkatla, Baldur's Gate and beyond were several properties, and their home was one of them - given to them by Ianis' father. It wasn't a completely free gift, of course - even family gifts come with some strings attached - but in this case all they were required to do was take care of the Cotto family's interests in the city, which was a much easier task than Astarion had anticipated. And it had given them somewhere to live in a good part of the city, which hardly even had any dark alleys for muggers, murderers or vampires to lurk in. It was also in a well-lit street, but that night the street lights had a more diffuse glow to them than normal, because of the falling snow.
Scratch met the two of them at the front door, tail wagging excitedly as ever. "Go on," Astarion told Ianis, "you go in and get warmed up again; light the fireplace and all that. I'll let Scratch out so that he can do his business, so to speak." Scratch barked happily... and possibly in a bit of relief as well.
Astarion stood just outside the house, front door ajar to keep the heat in, and watched while Scratch sniffed around the street looking for the right 'spot'. "Try not to take too long or go too far, dog," he said, "because you are a white dog in the snow and that would be a terrible thing to have to search for tonight." But Scratch just barked and suddenly ran off, down one of the few alleys nearby. He barked again two or three times, clearly wanting Astarion to follow him.
When Astarion entered the alley after the dog, Scratch was standing a little way in, sniffing and pawing at a spot by a wall there. Astarion could see a dark shape there, standing out against the snow despite the sparse lighting in the alley. "What have you found there?" he asked, to which Scratch just barked again, his tail wagging. Once he approached the dog, however, he quickly saw what had gotten the dog's attention.
"Oh," Astarion said with a smile, "so I should assume you want to bring this thing home as well? I know you have been missing your friend lately." Scratch's 'friend' was the owlbear cub they had rescued, befriended and semi-tamed during their quest to rid themselves of the mind flayer tadpoles - that had become a quest to save the entire Sword Coast from an Elder Brain - who was now far too large to live inside a small house in Baldur's Gate, and so now lived with their friend and companion Halsin, acting as a 'pet' and therapy animal of sorts for the children the Elven druid now took care of. They visited whenever they could, but…
The dog looked up at Astarion and barked once, as if in agreement, before going back to nudging the little black shape with his nose. Astarion sighed pointedly, but he was also smiling.
"Well, we both know Yan will not need any convincing on this one, so I guess this one is down to me... And I can hardly ruin the holiday by refusing, can I?"
When they returned to the house, Ianis had been busy, lighting lights and the fireplace, and things were already warming up considerably. Astarion had his hands behind his back and was attempting to look innocent, but Scratch was dancing around between the two of them excitedly. Clearly the dog had no concept of subtly or keeping secrets, even for a few minutes.
Ianis took one look at the two of them and cocked his head slightly. "...what are the two of you up to?" he asked, although he was smiling.
"Us? Whyever would you think we are up to something?" Astarion grinned. "Alright. It seems that Scratch found something he wanted to give us for a Deadwinter gift as well. It was out in the cold and snow, so... Can we keep it?" He brought his hands out from behind his back, and as he did so he made his eyes grow as wide and innocent as he could manage.
In his hands he held a small black kitten. It wasn't really struggling to be free of Astarion's hands, as it was clearly still cold from its time outside in the snow, but it was nuzzling against one of the elf's hands. Ianis let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeal of joy at the sight, and the kitten looked up at him with golden eyes flecked with green.
"Out in the cold and snow - all by himself? Herself? Itself? Do we know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"Really, love, we have only just met. It's a very personal question to ask so soon after you meet someone."
Ianis held his hands out, and Astarion gently handed the little black ball of fur to him. The kitten squeaked in protest and surprised, but settled down again just as quickly when Ianis gave it gently scratches on the top of its head. Carefully, he turned the kitten around in his hands and lifted it up.
"Oh, you're a little girl cat," he said. The kitten mewed, and he pulled her close to his chest, trying to warm her up some more while stroking her with one hand. "Now we just need to come up with the right name for you…"
Scratch barked twice, tail wagging so fast that it was almost a blur. The kitten barely seemed bothered by the dog's presence, although she did feel quite fascinated by his tail.
"While I am sure Scratch's suggestion is a good one," Astarion said, "I would like to suggest 'Nix'. It's a Latinate word for snow, which I think would be good because, well, whoever heard of a black cat called 'Snow'?"
Ianis laughed. "I love it," he said. "Alright, Nix... let's go and find you and your new big brother something to eat. We'll be right back," he added to Astarion, smiling broadly. "She's adorable. Thank you."
"Thank Scratch, not me," Astarion corrected. "I still have my own presents to give you."
Ianis disappeared into the kitchen, still carrying the black kitten - Nix - in his hands and with Scratch following happily behind. Astarion took the opportunity to quickly pull out his own purchases from where he had hidden them under his coat. One was wrapped in brown paper, while the other was in a black velvet bag tied shut with a gold organza ribbon. He put them at the side of the armchair he had claimed as 'his' the first day they had moved in, before taking off his coat and hanging it - neatly - by the door. By the time Ianis came back in, still beaming with happiness, Astarion was sitting in his chair and waiting patiently... although the look of joy on Ianis' face brought what felt like even more joy to him.
"She's hungry," Ianis explained. "It's a good thing Scratch got used to having to defend his dinner from the owlbear when we were all travelling together, because Nix would have shoved him right out of the way of his own plate if she wasn't so tiny."
"Sounds like she's going to fit in perfectly here," Astarion said with a smile. "And really, she was not part of my plan. Merely a... happy bonus."
"You know you didn't have to get me anything," Ianis said in a softer tone. "Really, I wasn't expecting anything - not that I thought you-"
"Shhh, love. It's alright. Let me just make you happy." Astarion reached down to where he had placed the presents next to the chair, and retrieved the paper-wrapped one. "Now, this one is entirely practical, and so it might seem a little dull, but..." He handed the package to Ianis, who took it excitedly.
"It's fine, it's really, really fine," he said, unwrapping the paper quickly to reveal... a scarf, dark grey and blue, and made out of the softest wools. It was ever so slightly fuzzy as well, from the fibres that made up the scarf, but not scratchy. Underneath that was a pair of gloves - again made out of the softest and most supple leather. The insides of the gloves were lined with fur.
"If I cannot warm your hands and face directly when it is cold like this," Astarion explained with a small smile, "then I believe this is the next best thing. The stallholder assured me that the gloves are soft and flexible enough to not impede your spellcasting, although they might not hold up to repeated fire bolts so please bear that in mind."
Ianis looked quite stunned for a moment. He stroked the scarf gently, clearly marvelling at how soft it felt still, and when he looked up at Astarion again his eyes were a little shinier than usual. "I love them," he said finally. "They're perfect. I'll wear them all winter and think of you."
"They're nothing special, really," Astarion continued. "Quite generic, really, in terms of presents, in fact-"
"Stop it," Ianis said. "You thought about this. You cared enough about me that you went to the effort of buying them, and-" he stopped suddenly as the realisation hit him. "Wait, I didn't know you were carrying that much money with you when we left the house…"
"...if it helps at all, I only pickpocketed the rich and unpleasant, who would either not even notice or deserved to learn a lesson in the sudden loss of liquid assets. And we can donate what's left to... some charity or something. Those Illmater clerics in Rivington, maybe. Or Halsin's orphans."
Ianis sighed, but he was still smiling. "You could have just asked me... but then it wouldn't have been a surprise, would it? And... I know there's a pride thing for you."
"No, I have absolutely no problems being a kept man, but... I do like some independence, yes. But what is most important is that you like them."
"And I do. I love them." Ianis carefully folded the scarf and gloves back together, and placed them on a nearby table. "Now hold on; I have to go get your present." He disappeared into the kitchen again, but only for a moment, and when he came back he had a cloth-wrapped parcel that clinked every now and then as he moved it. He handed it to Astarion.
"You're a bit difficult to buy for," he explained, "so I hope I got this right."
"Yan, you do not need to worry," Astarion assured him as he began to unwrap the parcel. "Whatever this is, I am sure I will love..." He stopped dead, however, when he saw what was inside the parcel.
A pair of daggers lay on the soft cloth. The blades were polished and newly sharpened to a suitably lethal edge. The cross-guards of the daggers were formed and decorated with careful and intricate filigree, that had clearly taken some time to get just right - as well as to match each other exactly. And set into the hilt just below the cross-guard on each dagger, was a black gemstone with a golden-white, six-pointed star in its centre. Black star sapphires.
Astarion was very rarely lost for words... but this was one of those times. He just stared at the twin daggers for several long moments, taking in their every detail, before picking one of them up to see how it felt in his hand. It was weighted perfectly; the grip felt solid and comfortable in his hands. He stood up, and performed a few practice sweeps and movements with the dagger - nothing too fancy or forceful, just to see how well it moved... and it was like cutting through silk.
"Yan, I..." he finally said, and again, struggling to find the right words was something of a foreign concept to him. "These are perfect. Maybe too perfect. These aren't the kind of things you use to stab common bandits; no, these are like the fine china and good silverwear you bring out when you have important guests. These are absolutely the kind of weapons you would use for special occasion stabbings."
"Does that mean you like them?" Ianis looked genuinely worried for a moment, so much so that Astarion placed the dagger back into its cloth wrappings and embraced the young man tightly.
"They are perfect. You are perfect," he whispered into Ianis' ear. "You've already given me so much, and now this... I do not deserve any of it."
Yes you do. I wanted to get something that was uniquely yours, that wasn't scrounged, or hoarded, or patched-up too many times to count. And I wanted it to be special, and beautiful, like you."
"How long were you planning this?"
"A little over a month. Met with the weaponsmith in the middle of the day so you'd not know anything; he made sense of all my ideas and badly-drawn designs, and helped me come up with the best way to utilise a star symbol as well."
"You designed them as well?"
"I had ideas, most of which were unworkable or overly-complicated. Metalworking and weaponsmithing aren't among my skills, I'm afraid."
No-one had ever given him anything like this. Hells, no-one had ever given him gifts, full stop. What few keepsakes and trinkets Astarion had ever been given over the 200 years of his unlife had either come with strings attached, or had long since been lost - or more likely taken from him and destroyed because none of them, Astarion in particular it had sometimes felt like, were allowed nice things or even things of their own. And then this young man had come along, and surely but steadily worked his way into Astarion's life and his heart, had saved him from monsters, from his tormentor for all those years, and even from himself. His ivaebhin, now and forever, and Astarion found himself lost in his own emotions for a moment. He leant in and took Ianis' lips in his, in a passionate kiss that was all teeth, tongues and maybe a bit of hunger as well.
"I love you," Astarion said when he finally broke their kiss, allowing Ianis to catch his breath. "And I do not deserve you."
"I'm afraid you're stuck with me though," Ianis replied with a smile. "And I love you too." There was a flush in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold.
"Well, I still have one last gift to give you," Astarion told him, reluctantly pulling back from Ianis and returning to his chair to pick up the black velvet bag he had left there. "And it is quite fragile, so none of your usual clumsiness, please."
Ianis took the bag from Astarion with suitable care, sitting down to undo the gold ribbon holding the bag closed. He looked inside, puzzled at first, but as he reached into the bag and began to remove its contents he let out a sudden gasp of surprise and recognition.
Inside the bag was a crystal bottle, corked shut, and inside the bottle - a decanter, really - was a pale gold liquid that almost seemed to glow slightly. Evermead, the Elven liquor that was both rare and almost prohibitively expensive; that was said to taste of the heavenly planes themselves.
"My thoughts were: why not find out if your tastes have changed and matured any in the decade or so since you first tried this?" Astarion told him, one corner of his mouth turned up in a knowing smirk.
Ianis returned that look with one of his own, licking his lips. "Let's find out then."