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The city changed a lot in their absence. Remaining rubble was cleared out and arranged into neat piles; pieces of sharp, splintered wood stuck out of them like spikes on some long-defeated beasts. Hollow ruins still stared at the streets with dark, empty window frames, but next to them stood new structures, freshly painted and fragrant with resin, vibrant like peacocks amongst hens. The night was warm and music was flowing through the doors of taverns, left half-open to allow fresh air in. A group of patrons was sitting outside, singing a crude rendition of the ballad Alfira composed about Tav all those months ago. The drunken voices made it almost incomprehensible, but Tav would recognise it anywhere.
‘Home, sweet home’, Astarion remarked, looking up at the starry sky. ‘Now, if only some desperate little idiot tried to rob, murder, or pickpocket us, then I’d really feel that we’re back’.
‘Nobody would dare, I’m afraid’, Tav said. ‘If you crave that kind of excitement, our only option is to start a tavern brawl ourselves. Which I’m not entirely opposed to, but I don’t think I want to fight our fans’.
‘Oh, with voices like these they’d definitely deserve it. But I’d rather check if our place is still standing, first’.
Tav grabbed his hand as they continued walking through the familiar streets. They spent weeks on the road, traveling, adventuring, making friends and memories. Helping old allies and new acquaintances. Sitting by the fire together in the hours close to dawn, watching the inky sky blossom with purples and pinks, for as long as Astarion was able to. They stayed in the city between their travels, always stating that this time they’d take more time to recover, only to start growing restless within a month or so, called to by the unfamiliar that promised new excitements.
Tav glanced at Astarion; he was smiling softly. With all these new memories, the return to Baldur’s Gate was surprisingly pleasant for him. The smell of the signature Elfsong stew conjured an image of Gale, who upon trying it immediately went on a tangent about the best technique to bloom spices. The narrow alleyway near Rolan’s tower reminded him of an apartment he and Tav considered buying in that area, before discovering it was haunted. Near the square was a bakery with Karlach’s favourite pretzels; the aroma of fresh bread lingered in the air even now. He could recall it prompted a long discussion between her and Wyll about which baldurian pastry is superior. Even further down the street was the cemetery he was once buried in… and the very place he told Tav that he loved them for the first time.
He gazed at them fondly. They spent almost every day of the past two years in each other’s company, but the mundanity of it didn’t make them any less exceptional to him. He admired that playful, yet focused look on their face; that cunning glimmer in their eyes that he loved so much. Their smile, that they bestowed upon him so generously. Their freckles, now so much paler after avoiding sun for so long, all for his sake. He squeezed their hand tighter, promising himself to never take them for granted.
‘You’re such a sweetheart’, Tav remarked.
‘Please keep it between us, dear. If Karlach finds out, there’ll be no end to her I-told-you-soes’.
‘Oh, I don’t mind having you all to myself. But you’re seriously missing out, she gives amazing hugs’.
They soon approached a small townhouse. It was a narrow structure made out of sandstone blocks, with green patches of ivy snaking on the surface. The shutters were closed, covering the windows; Tav noticed the paint was chipping a bit and made a mental note to fix it soon. They unlocked the front door with a click of a brass key and entered the familiar interior. The air smelled of sandalwood, with a freshness of basil and a hint of warm, ambery leather. It smelled of home.
‘Gods, finally’, Astarion exhaled, dropped his backpack on the floor and collapsed onto a plush sofa, sinking into the burgundy pillows. ‘As much as I enjoy the constant travel, sitting on the ground loses its charm really fast’.
‘I couldn’t agree more. I think these chairs spoiled me’, Tav said, plopping down next to him. He adjusted his position, resting his head on their lap and they started running their fingers through his hair. ‘We spent a lot of money on furniture we barely ever use… we’re on the road most of the time’.
‘I can think of a few ways to take advantage of all these sofas, if you’re so concerned that they’re standing idle too much’, he said with a smirk, glancing at them with half-lidded eyes. ‘Besides, what would even be the point to all this adventuring if we couldn’t splurge on nice things?’
‘Someone might say that improving the world and helping people should be good enough reasons’.
‘Yes, and that someone’s name is Wyll Ravengard’, Astarion rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t tell me you miss the days we had to scrape by on whatever forgotten garbage we could find buried in the ground’.
‘You’re right… Gods, remember that time in Emerald Grove when I was trying to sell rotten carrots to that druid merchant just so we’d have enough money for a healing potion? It was the only thing we had that we could part with’.
‘Oh, I remember’, he smiled at the memory. ‘You convinced him they could be used as compost. I was quite a fool to not fall for you right there and then’.
‘The stench of moldy vegetables and desperation must have deterred you somehow. I don’t blame you’ Tav grinned.
‘Darling, desperation is my favourite. On you, at least. The mold I could do without’.
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, letting their legs rest after the journey. The room remained dark; it was too warm to light the fireplace. Outside, a group of drunkards passed by. Their shouts and a sudden crash of a dropped bottle spilled into the room and Astarion flinched, alerted by the unexpected noise. Tav just kept running their hand through his hair, comforting him. Sweet, patient Tav… he knew he put them through a lot, even after Cazador was gone. Especially then. After every outburst, every stupid argument he started, every frustrating setback came the shame, the grief, the desperate apologies. And they remained at his side through all that ugliness. Maybe now that the pain finally began to feel distant, as if it happened in another life, he could finally make it up to them, he thought - even though he knew Tav would deny the notion that he has anything to make up for at all.
‘Sounds like the city’s quieting down’, Tav remarked a bit later. Indeed, the street noises were gone. ‘Mind if I open the window and let some fresh air in?’
‘And deprive me of the most comfortable of pillows?’ he sighed. ‘Fine. I suppose we have things to do anyway’.
Tav got up to open the windows and the shutters. Pale moonlight cascaded inside, painting silver glints on metal fixtures of the furniture. Their house reflected their personalities well. It was elegant and charmingly inviting; sofas, chairs and chaise lounges were tempting with luxurious cushions and soft fabrics, while swords, daggers and other blades shone faintly on the nearby wall, adding a bit of a dangerous flair. It also felt warm, and just cluttered enough to be cozy. Colorful pillows were piled around, ready to be used as extra seating should more guests arrive; patterned carpets clashed with the sofas in a way that should have been an eye-sore, but it strangely worked. And wherever they looked, there was some reminder of their loved ones. Scratches on the dining table revealed many past meals shared in a large group, as did the missing glassware, broken during a party. A painting depicting Tav and Astarion decorated the wall by the staircase; they were both smiling and Tav had their arms wrapped around him. On the windowsill in the kitchen stood pots with herbs; they were growing new, delicate leaves despite the very limited sunlight, thanks to Jaheira’s care. Wooden duck made by Halsin stood on the fireplace mantle beside owlbear feathers sent to them by Shadowheart. A door frame was chipped on the top, where Karlach nicked it with her horn by accident. The iron-cast pans on the kitchen wall were Gale’s housewarming gift. A set of aberration-slaying crossbow bolts was Lae’zel’s, now displayed near the swords. A bottle of Exeltis Ice Wine, Astarion’s favourite, was waiting on a bottle rack; it was sent to them by Wyll for their anniversary, but they were traveling at the time and still hadn’t opened it.
They unpacked and cleaned themselves after the journey. Tav left the bathroom refreshed, as if their skin could finally breathe again after being suffocated by the dust of the road. The silk, slippery bathrobe felt almost impossibly delicate compared to the thick, sturdy shirts and armor they’d been wearing for so long. A zesty, herbal smell permeated the air and they could hear Astarion bustling around in the kitchen; they went downstairs to see what he was up to.
‘All that time in the bath, and didn’t think to invite me?’ he said disapprovingly when they entered, not taking his eyes off the cheese he was slicing. A trail of steam was rising from a cup on the countertop. ‘And I’m being so nice. I made you tea’.
‘Thank you, love’, Tav said, grabbing the warm cup. A slice of lemon floated in the amber liquid. Astarion arranged the cheese on a plate, next to smoked meats, figs and walnuts, and unwrapped a loaf of bread. Tav pointed to the food. ‘That looks delicious’.
‘I thought you might be hungry, dear. I had that boar earlier, and well… you’, he cut a piece of bread and added it to the plate. ‘I know you get peckish after I have a sip’.
‘That’s very sweet of you’, they said, rubbing his shoulder. He rolled his eyes and took a drink from his cup, pretending to not be smiling. ‘Look at us, being all… domestic and normal’, Tav continued. Suddenly, a mischievous spark appeared in their eyes. They looked at him intensely, biting their lip. He smirked, expecting some very welcome flirting to follow; Tav’s silk robe was just asking to be slid off of their shoulders.
‘What if we got married?’ they said instead.
Astarion coughed, almost choking on his drink.
‘Isn’t that what nobles do to secure a political alliance and an heir?’ he said, gazing at them with curiosity.
‘I heard sometimes people in love give it a try too, you know’, they said, putting a slice of cheese on the bread.
‘Maybe ones that concern themselves with gods or laws, neither of which is of much interest to me. Or you, last time I checked, unless you suddenly decided to follow in Shadowheart’s footsteps and grew a conscience about that tax collector you convinced we have special privileges’.
‘It was just an idea’, Tav responded, still eating the sandwich. If they felt disappointed, they didn’t show it. ‘I’m happy with how things are. Forget I said anything’.
‘I’m happy too, darling’, he wrapped an arm around them, concerned that maybe his reaction was too dismissive. He couldn’t tell what they were really thinking. ‘Is this… is marriage something you’d want? I don’t recall you ever mentioning it’.
‘I don’t know. I never really pictured myself getting married’, they shrugged. ‘I just thought it could be fun, that’s all. I mean, can you imagine? Us doing something this… cheesy?’
‘Right… because nothing says true love like signing a piece of paper in front of some bureaucrat that’s just waiting to go home’, he responded. ‘It would be quite the sight, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take a formal contract seriously. Unless you’d find some way to tamper with that too’.
‘Oh? What about you being forced to listen to a priest without interrupting, dear?’ Tav chuckled.
‘Why, am I not allowed to interrupt the priest at my own wedding? Where’s the fun in that?’ he said with exaggerated astonishment. ‘Gods, can you imagine Wyll’s reaction? I bet that sweet fool would take over all of the planning, down to the color of the napkins’.
‘That’d be fine by me. We could just focus on dressing up to the nines and writing vows so moving they’d make Lae’zel cry’.
‘Ha! I admire your ambition’, he laughed. ‘But shouldn’t your attention be fully on your future husband on such a special day?’
‘Husband? I thought you meant hubby’ , Tav grinned. Astarion groaned.
‘Well, that might be enough to make me cry, but not for the reasons you’d like’, he said. Tav just shrugged again, still smiling, and snacked on a walnut. ‘And what comes after? We buy a set of matching slippers, and his & theirs embroidered pillows?’
‘Absolutely. Maybe adopt that cat we talked about. Or ten cats’.
‘Oh, now you’re actually tempting me to do this. But before we’d get to that… I do have some ideas for the wedding night’ Astarion said softly, pulling them closer, enjoying their warmth. He could smell their soap and the sandalwood perfume. Their hair was still wet; he felt a cool tickle where it touched his neck. He ran his fingertips alongside their back, until they met the robe’s tie. ‘In fact, why don’t we skip directly to it? Break in some of that expensive furniture, so to speak?’
‘I was starting to think you were all talk’, Tav said with a smile, letting him guide them into the living room and onto the sofa.
***
The following days were filled with a familiar routine. They sold the treasures acquired during the recent adventuring and stocked up on supplies; checked up on Jaheira and Minsc; wrote replies to all the letters that’d arrived in their absence. Visited Rolan and his siblings and met up with Alfira and Lakrissa. Stopped by the Society of Brilliance to leave some strange mushrooms they’d found for Blurg. Spent the days resting, and the nights wandering the night markets, beaches and parks. Tav didn’t bring up marriage again; if Astarion didn’t want it, then they were perfectly happy not changing a thing.
That evening they were having a meal at the Elfsong tavern. One of Alfira’s students was performing on stage, and had just finished singing a humorous song about an aspiring gnome alchemist. The inn was packed and noisy, but sitting in the back, they had a bit of privacy. Astarion was smiling at Tav from across the table. They wore their hair up, revealing the elegant curve of their neck and a faint bite mark, a reminder of how much trust they put in him. He briefly wondered what hairstyle they’d pick if they decided to have a wedding after all. He dismissed it quickly, like he did countless times in the recent days; it was the kind of fairytale nonsense he dreamt about when he was thirteen. Besides, what would even be the point? He knew Tav loved him. The days of him agonising over them leaving if he did something slightly wrong were long gone.
But, he had to admit, it did sound rather fun.
‘You know, I was just contemplating what you suggested the other day’, he said as an idea popped into his head, ‘Do you reckon they’d give us free wine if we pretended to get engaged?’
‘We are famous around these parts, so I think it’s very likely’, Tav replied, visibly intrigued. ‘Let’s try it out’.’
They took off one of their magical rings and got up with a screeching of the wooden chair. The noise caused the surrounding patrons to quiet down and pay attention; some were glancing discreetly, others openly stared.
‘My love’, Tav proclaimed loudly, looking intensely at Astarion. To an onlooker, he would appear serious, but they could clearly read the amusement in his eyes. ‘We’ve been through so much together, both good and bad. We faced unimaginable threats and you remained at my side through it all - the Netherbrain; the archdevil; and even when I was turned into a sentient wheel of cheese. Now the time has come that I shall become cheesy again’, they said, kneeling down. They presented him with the ring. ‘Will you marry me?’
‘Gods, yes! Darling, I thought you’d never ask’ he said loudly, covering his mouth in a fake surprise. Tav slipped the ring onto his finger and he pretended to admire it, before pulling them closer and giving them a kiss. The tavern patrons cheered, some congratulated them; and indeed, soon a bottle of celebratory wine appeared on their table. The barkeep expressed excitement that Tav chose this particular locale as a site for such an important moment. Meanwhile Astarion studied the wine’s label.
‘Oh, that’s disappointing’, he remarked once the barkeep left, before uncorking it and filling both their glasses. ‘But the fun of it was worth it’.
‘I suppose we’d have to try the Upper City establishments in order to get the good stuff’, Tav said, sampling the wine. It was fruity and sickly sweet, almost like a syrup.
Astarion glanced up at them over his glass, a devilish smirk twisting his lips.
‘Oh?’ they smiled back. ‘You want to try it again?’
‘Why not’, he laughed. ‘I’m having fun - are you?’
‘With you, always. Upper City it is!’
Astarion grabbed the bottle, while Tav took the cups; nobody protested, perhaps too caught off guard by the audacity of the theft. They left the tavern and were greeted by the chilly night air. The moon shined bright, the silver light washing over the city with a cold luster. Lanterns were illuminating the streets with intense orange, reflecting in the smooth cobblestones. Astarion handed the wine to a group of young scholars, wandering the streets from tavern to tavern, seemingly celebrating some kind of academic achievement. Tav took one last sip and gave them the cups as well, and with their hands freed, wrapped their arm around Astarion’s waist. His mind immediately wandered yet again, trying to imagine what it would feel like to stroll through the city as a married couple. Would it even feel any different?
‘So, what’s our destination?’ he asked when they got closer to the Upper City. ‘It better be someplace expensive, if you want me to say yes’.
‘I already asked! Now it’s your turn’.
‘Keeping score like that is a foul start to a marriage, darling’, he said, trying to sound disapproving, but the smile on his face betrayed his true feelings. ‘Very well. Let’s see which one of us gets a more enthusiastic response from the crowd’.
They arrived at an elegant tavern filled with noblemen. The air felt heavy with the mixture of all the expensive perfumes and meats roasting in the kitchen; elaborate flower arrangements adorned each table. Astarion got up almost immediately after they sat down.
‘Tav, my sweetest’, he declared, grabbing their hand. ‘I never told you about the moment that I finally realised the depth of my feelings for you. It happened when I saw you lick that dead, rotting spider. At the time, I thought: gods, they are insane. Is this the person leading us? But then I understood how truly admirable it was. You acted so fearlessly, with such eagerness to take the leap of faith. For all you knew, that spider could have been delicious, and we were all fools to ignore it. Allow me to take inspiration from your bravery’. He went down on one knee and gazed at them in a way that would seem like pure devotion to onlookers, but Tav recognised the familiar playfulness in his smile. The fact that he was getting away with a proposal this ridiculous only added to his amusement. ‘There is a very important question I must ask you... will you marry me?’
He offered them their magical ring back. Tav pretended to wipe a tear off their face.
‘Yes! Of course, yes!’, they said and pulled him into an embrace, only to pick him up and spin around, causing him to wrap his arms around them even tighter. Another bottle of wine landed on their table amidst cheers. Tav quickly grabbed it as they made their way out, before anyone could acknowledge that they hadn’t even ordered anything yet. They handed it to Astarion once they were back outside.
‘Not bad’, he said, reading the label. It was Druid’s Scarlet. Dry, a little herbal. He glanced at Tav; his gaze lingered. Their cheeks were ever so slightly flushed, their hair a bit messy after all the twirling moments ago. They were smiling at him, clearly enjoying all this as much as he was. He couldn’t help but smile as well.
‘Do you want to try one more?’ they asked.
‘Aw, you know me so well’, he planted a kiss on their lips and they were underway.
***
One turned to two, then five, then ten. Baldur’s Gate had no shortage of taverns. They were sampling some of the wines as they went; the ones they didn’t like they immediately gave to people passing by. Others, they just put in their bags for later. Slight drunkenness filled their heads with a pleasant rush, and they continued to entertain each other with proposal speeches that the other patrons surely had to find questionable, but had to politely accept and cheer for.
‘Astarion, my darling’, Tav said in the next one, clutching his hand with an adoring desperation. ‘I knew that I didn't want to ever be with anyone else the moment I saw you wear clown make-up. Not because I like clowns, but because you were still the most breathtaking creature I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?
A bottle of Saerloonian Glowfire landed on their table. Peary, aromatic and refreshing.
‘In our travels we have met a literal angel’, he said in the inn after that, presenting them with the ring they were exchanging back and forth all night. ‘And yet next to you, she is but a pale pretender. You bring so much light into my life, I can’t imagine ever being deprived of it. May I have your hand in marriage?’
Barovian Red Dragon Crush. Tantalising and dry.
‘My love! I’m afraid that beast we fought bit me… for I am rabid. Rabid with love’, Tav proclaimed. ‘The only cure is marriage. Will you be my husband?’
Suzailian Wine. Sweet and fragrant.
Their bags were clanking with the noise of glass bottles bumping into each other while they walked to the next inn. Astarion felt happy, light and floaty. Playing the crowd like this was extremely fun, but simply knowing that Tav would marry him for real if he asked made him giddy. Would it really be so absurd to make their commitment official, not for the sake of gods or laws, but for each other? The idea felt less ludicrous with each fake proposal, like a new shoe that seemed too tight at first but fitted just right once broken in a bit.
‘Tav, my darling’, he addressed them in the next tavern. He couldn’t remember what he had planned to say just a few moments ago. ‘Life with you has been incredible. I love you’, he stared at them intensely. Tav listened attentively, noticing his tone turn more serious. ‘For so many years, it seemed like this kind of happiness was out of my reach. If you asked me then, I would have told you my heart is no longer capable of it, but you proved me wrong. I want to be with you forever. I... want to marry you’.
He barely realised the earnestness that trickled into his speech. He felt so comfortable under Tav’s gaze, so at home seeing them smile at him, so safe with their hand holding his. A slight sense of longing clasped around his heart with a tight squeeze. Being with them felt natural and easy, in a world where he had to fight tooth and nail for so many other things. Why deny himself the fairytale, just because he had considered it impossible for so long?
Tav said yes, like they did in all those previous taverns. Another bottle was delivered to their table: Baldur’s Grape, velvety and tart. They added it to the already substantial collection of wines and returned outside. The street felt peaceful, shrouded in the shade of the trees growing alongside it, rustling gently in the breeze. Chestnuts were in bloom and their delicate, white flowers appeared to almost be glowing faintly in the moonlight, reflecting it against the dark foliage. The smell of blossoming elderberries permeated the air. Tav put their hand on Astarion’s back comfortingly. In the night, his hair almost resembled white gold, shiny and luminous. His eyes seemed to be closer to deep magenta than their usual crimson red.
‘That was a great speech... very romantic. I don't think I can beat that. Should we call it a day?’ they asked. ‘I think that might be enough proposals for one night’.
He smiled and gazed at them with warmth that made them melt inside.
‘How about just one more’ he said. ‘Tav… I want this’.
‘You do?’ they asked, delightfully surprised.
‘Yes. I mean, why shouldn’t we? I had so much fun tonight, I think it’s only fair to assume the real thing is even better, isn’t it?’ he grinned, seeing that Tav was barely containing their excitement. Their joy felt contagious.
‘Only one way to find out. Do you want me to make a little speech, or did you hear enough of them tonight?’
‘What do you think?’ he asked with a chuckle. ‘Of course I want a speech’.
They laughed quietly as to not disturb the silence too much, as if what they were experiencing demanded that kind of reverent decorum. All those fake proposals had an audience, cheers, noise, dramatic, theatrical gestures and exaggerated expressions. This one was just between them. The street remained peaceful, as if the entire world graciously decided to quiet down and give them that moment. Tav went down on one knee once more and held his hand. The touch made Astarion’s fingers tingle, even though they’d touched countless times before.
‘I made a lot of silly speeches today’, they said. ‘Silly enough that one might consider them a mockery of love, but they were all in service of it. Because their point was to make you laugh, for I want you to be happy more than anything else. And there was a kernel of truth to all of them... even the one about clown make-up. I remember you rolling your eyes and protesting when I asked you to try it, but I also remember how easy it was to convince you. Because you knew it would amuse me, and that at that point, I desperately needed a laugh. You made me feel loved and cared for, at a time when you had so many of your own demons to face, that day and every day since. I want to do the same for you, for the rest of my days. Astarion Ancunin… will you marry me?’
‘Oh, you just had to find a way to mention clowns again’, he said, but he help but smile. ‘Yes, of course I’ll marry you, darling’.
He helped them get up and kissed them, with adoration and devotion.
'We should make a toast', Tav said. 'And it just so happens that we have no shortage of wines to choose from... unless you think it's time to open that bottle we got for our anniversary?'
'I can't imagine a finer occasion'.
They walked back to their home, hands joined. They chatted about the evening, trying to determine which one of the earlier proposals was the worst, but the excitement over their future quickly took over the conversation. They spoke about what kind of wedding they’d like; what to wear; who to invite. Astarion brought up the cat again, hoping Tav fully intended to deliver on that promise. They agreed, joking that it would be under the condition that they get the embroidered pillows as well. And as always, the walk through the city was full of reminders of so many good moments, conjuring up images of old friends and all those sweet times they shared there. Now a new, precious memory was added to Baldur’s Gate tapestry, one that would appear vividly in their minds every time they passed through that area or smelled elderberry blossoms.