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Again, Astarion was cowering on the ground, trembling.
Again, Tav knew better than to touch him.
Instead, the man got up to do what he had taken on doing recently. He poured some water into a kettle, lit a fire in the fireplace and started to boil the water.
Astarion had had nightmares during their involuntary adventure with the Absolute, but they had not been as frequent, not as extreme. But now, that they had settled down just a bit, it was as if Cazador’s spirit was just waiting to hunt him down as soon as he closed his eyes. Even though Cazador was dead, he found himself in the kennel again and again. Screaming, squirming, sobbing. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted it to be over.
Tears were running over his face, no matter how much he was loathing them. He felt so weak. He felt weaker than he had even felt under Cazador’s control. Because right now he was so fully dependent on Tav and he knew it. If Tav wasn’t here, he might have already just stepped into the sun – or might have just curled up in bed and never gotten up again.
It was not as if he wanted to die. But he just didn’t want to dream again.
Even if he wasn’t dreaming, Cazador was still there. Especially when Tav wasn’t at home, when Astarion was alone. He could hear Cazador, like a voice whispering in his ear. It was his mind, he knew it was his mind. But he hated it never the less. No, he feared it.
Two hundred years. It had been two hundred years he had spent under Cazador’s control. He was finally free, but the longer those whispers and nightmares lasted, the more he doubted that he ever would be free.
The scent of lavender tea started to fill the air. And not long after Tav returned to their bed room, where Astarion was sitting on the floor in the far corner.
Tav crouched down next to him. “Can I touch you?”
“Yes,” Astarion whispered. The creeping feeling on his skin had subsided at least. Indeed, as Tav put his hand onto Astarion’s shoulder, it felt good. The warmth was familiar. Already it was familiar.
It was an instinct more than anything that made Astarion just lean against the man, clinging onto him like a drowning person to driftwood in the ocean.
Tav seemed to understand, as he just returned the hug. He held Astarion carefully. He always seemed very aware to not hold him too tight, always give him the feeling that he could get away. Not that Astarion wanted to. This warmth was familiar. It managed to hold those spirits at bay just a little. It was not perfect, but… It was a start.
Still the tears were running over his cheeks, as little sobs shook his shoulders. He did not manage to speak yet. He just leaned against the other man, waiting for it to stop, waiting for the shadows to retreat into the dark once more.
Only when his sobs subsided a bit, Tav dared to speak. “I made some more tea.”
“I know,” Astarion managed.
“Come,” Tav said. “Let’s go over. Sit down.”
Astarion nodded. He allowed the bard to pull him onto his feet and guide him over to the sitting room.
The bard had been unbelievable. It was just two tendays since the Netherbrain had fallen into the Chionthar, yet the man had already managed to organize a place for them to stay, something better than the dingy attic room.
And a part of Astarion didn’t understand why the man actually seemed to want to stay with him. But he had never understood this man to begin with. The man who had been so insistent on staying by his side from the very beginning.
Now Tav poured some of the tea into two mugs, adding some honey to it, before he pressed one of the mugs into Astarion’s hands. He smiled at him, before sitting down on the sofa as well.
Tav looked so tired. So very tired.
Worst of all, Astarion knew that he was at least part of the reason. Because whenever he woke from his nightmares screaming, he would wake the man as well. A part of him wished, that Tav just rolled over and continued sleeping, while Astarion tried to ward of the panic, but Tav never did. Instead he did this. Caring for him, like nobody had ever cared for Astarion before.
Astarion could not help but watch the man, who had dark rings under his eyes.
The other reason was of course, that almost every day he was out there, trying to help rebuild. Working with his friends – but apparently with Jaheira, too. Because the man never could just sit idle.
“Drink,” he now said. “You will feel better.”
“I know.” Astarion raised the mug to his lips, slowly sipping some of the sweet tea. Then he dared to look at Tav again. “You seem so tired.”
“It’s nothing,” Tav reassured him. “I am just fine.”
But that was, what this man always said, wasn’t it? That he was fine. He would always claim to be fine. He had done the same during their journey, too.
Yet, Astarion did not have the energy to say anything about it, other than: “I am sorry.”
“What for?”
“For keeping you awake.”
Tav sighed. He put one arm around Astarion’s shoulders. “It is not as if you are doing it on purpose, right?”
“Still… You need more sleep.”
Tav shook his head. “Look, I know exactly how it is. With those nightmares, I mean. I know how it is. And it will pass in a while. Until then… I will stay awake with you. I will live through it.”
Once more Astarion leaned against him, closing his eyes. “I am still sorry. I just…” He didn’t know what else he wanted to say, so he stayed silent.