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Chapter Text

You just wanted to finish the game before going to bed. It was nearly midnight and you have work in the morning. You have lost count of how many times you have completed the game nor the hundreds of hours you have spent. It’s a harmless fixation, way cheaper than alcohol or tobacco, that’s for certain.

You have a fondness for all the characters. They seem so alive and real when you interact with them. The voice actors were paid well, and it showed. The graphic departments should all get a raise too.

You enjoyed Minthara’s dry humour and Gale’s wit. You have positive things to say about every single character. Even the bad guys. They are a refreshing mixture of personalities. But your favourite companion was Astarion. Perhaps you were drawn to him because of his complex personality and vulnerability masked by charm and snark. His character design sure was appealing, with his white hair and red eyes, wearing what was described in the official artbook as: ‘an aesthetic inspired by 18^th-century libertines and European rock stars of the early 90s.’

What’s there not admire?

Your room was quiet aside from the clacks of your keyboard and the purring of a cat on your table. The clock ticked from the hallway, but you were too engrossed in the last fight to notice. With a mighty blow, Karlach cleaved through the Elderbrain. You have won, finished your honor mode at long last. It has been a hazarding journey. In that moment, you couldn’t really recall if you died and had to restart at some point – or several times.

You raised your fist in the air in victory as the achievement appeared.

“Hell yeah,” you breathe out in relief, a large grin stretching on your lip. You reached out to pat your cat, but she seemed uninterested in celebrating your victory. For a few seconds, you consider betraying the Emperor and taking over the world. Would be a fitting end for the journey, but if you did, you would forgo hugging Astarion again in the epilogue.

Hmh. Difficult choice. Take over the world or hug your pixelated boyfriend?

Who are you kidding, there was only ever one choice. You would do anything just to see him smile at you again with that soft and affectionate expression that made butterflies flutter somewhere they didn’t belong.

You let out an inappropriate yawn as you watch spawn Astarion run to the shadows. You have seen it before, and you wish you had the option to run after him and console him immediately instead of clicking yourself through another emotional scene with Karlach and Wyll. It’s not like you haven’t seen it several times before, but it still always brings tears to your eyes and you sniffle a little. You simply couldn’t afford crying again.

Finally, the scene cuts to Astarion. A smile tugged on your lips as it always did when you watch this. He was hopeful and giddy for the future rather than melancholic for losing the sun. Because you are the light of his life. Or so you would like to think at least.

You picked a male character this time, because you wanted to be taller than Astarion. You had spent the entirety of your last run as a gnome, having the pale elf looking down at you. It was funny at the start, until you realized you couldn’t quite see the crimson of his eyes when he was looking down. The eye contact being set towards the character and not the screen.

So, this time you wanted to be taller than him, just for a change.

You had decided not to ascend him this time. You enjoy both versions, or perhaps you have a preference for one over the other. No matter, this time he was a spawn.

 It’s a perfect end for the evening, perhaps you will leave the epilogue at the party for tomorrow, just to drag it out a little longer.

“I don't know what the future holds for us, but I know we'll be facing it together,” the dialogue is coming to an unfortunate end and you have not yet decided to do the party yet.  “And we're going –“

Before Astarion managed to complete the sentence, the screen suddenly went dark. You barely have time to react before a wet cat collided with the side of your face and you pushed yourself to your feet with your favourite swear word escaping your lips.

There was water all over your office desk, dripping down on the case containing your console underneath. Your cat must have knocked over your waterbottle.

Without missing a beat you rip the cords of your computer out of their socket, hoping desperately nothing has been ruined. You don’t precisely have enough in your savings account to replace if it breaks. You chased the feline out of the room and started on the arduous task of drying everything.

You glanced towards the clock in dismay. It’s already past midnight, but saving your computer took precedence over sleep at the moment. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. Your stomach churned with dismay. At least you managed to complete your honor mode, so there was that, even if you were deprived of a last hug from Astarion.

“And we're going to have a lot of fun,” Astarion finished, a smile curling delicately against a fang. His cheek still tingled unpleasantly from the earlier sunburn, but the skin was already healing. He dearly hoped it wouldn’t leave a scar, like the cracks on an old porcelain doll.

The feeling of victory was coursing through his veins and making him giddy. Perhaps later he would mourn over the loss of his ability to walk in daylight, but for now he would indulge in the feeling of victory with his lover.

A strange notion, to Astarion. To have a lover. Someone he loves and care for and have the feelings returned. After two hundred years of torture and servitude, he was finally and utterly free. The freedom of choosing what he wants to do in life. With Cazador’s dead and the tadpoles gone, it was finally time to dream of a future of his own making.

Lost as he was in the joy of the moment, it took him a tick too long to notice that his lover had gone completely quiet. Upon focusing back on Tav, he saw his expression had grown vacant. His eyes were glazed, but not with thought as if he were pondering something. Instead, it seemed as if he was empty of mind, completely blank.

“Darling?” Astarion placed his hand on his shoulder. Tapping a finger gently in an attempt to draw his attention. “Is something the matter?”

When that didn’t elicit any response, he started shaking him lightly. A moment ago, he had been ecstatic at being rid of the tadpole, but now he wished he had that connection back just so he could reach into Tav’s mind.

“This is not funny, love,” he tried to sound disapproving, but the high-pitched note that coloured his voice was tinged with concern bordering on hysteria, “talk to me. Blink, anything. I’m not usually one to beg, but I promise if you just give me a little peep from those pretty lips of yours, I’ll do so on my knees.”

Tav’s head whipped back and forward at the motion, his expression never changing, never acknowledging what was happening. Pit of worry gnawed in Astarion’s stomach, his lover had never been one for practical jokes. His forced grin cracked on his lips, his dirty jokes never failed to produce a smile. That more than anything forced him to acknowledge that something was very wrong.

“Shadowheart!” he turned to scream for the cleric, a hint of subtle panic rising in his tone. “Something is wrong, I need help. Hurry.”

Of everyone to arrive, of either Gale or Shadowheart, it was Karlach that reached him first. It was if she had just been waiting behind some boxes. He frowned, having thought she had left for Avernus already, but asking was at the bottom of his concerns at the moment.

“Find Gale or Shadowheart. Something is wrong with Tav –“ he started, but the tiefling didn’t even look at the man. Her eyes were fixated on Astarion and she slowly started pulling him away. Confused more than anything, his arm dropped from his lover’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, Astarion, don’t panic. Everything is fine,” her voice was soft and sympathetic, still not even looking at the leader of the gang.

It made him frown but settled some of his anxiety when she didn’t look concerned. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing,” she reassures him, though her hand was heavy on his arm and he could feel her nails digging into his skin, “this is how it always end. I tried saving them, but I always fail.”

He ripped his arm out of her grasp and turned to face her with a confused expression, “what are you talking about Karlach? Has the heat finally boiled your brain? Never mind that, where are the others? Tav needs help – ”

“I don’t have long. So listen carefully,” she interrupted with a flicker of frustration on her face but she was trying to keep her expression sympathetic. Drops of sweat trickled from her forehead and he could feel the furnace of her body. “We have done this, so many times I’ve lost count. Every time I die, I wake up back in the forest. Tav is always different, sometimes male sometimes female, as an elf, as drow, a dwarf, a gnome… It doesn’t matter. It always ends here. Once the tadpole is gone so are they.”

“Karlach – “ he interrupted but she shushed him before he could continue.

“Hush, listen. Just listen to me. There will be a party in half a year, he will come back then. You understand?” she grunted and doubled over, a pained cry from her lips as the fire in her body made her skin look translucent. “You can say goodbye then.”

“You are not making any sense,” Astarion growled, his head spinning with confusion and horror. Though when she collapsed to her knees, he dropped with her. His eyes flickering from the motionless Tav, pleading silently for help. He always knew what to do, but one of his friends were burning up and he was doing nothing.

That more than anything, was what made Astarion realize that something was abundantly wrong. That this wasn’t just a terrible joke. Whatever had happened to his lover, his mind seemed to have been relocated elsewhere. When Karlach grunted in pain again, he forced his attention back to her.

“Stay with me, darling. Tell me what I have to do. There must be something,” he urged her, no longer trying to hide his desperation.

The only reply he got in response were noises of pain and the heat of her body surged up. He was forced to move away lest he got burned. She didn’t have long, he could tell. He was torn between interrogating her and calling for help… he knew which option Tav would approve of. The selfless idiot always put everyone else above himself.

With a defeated sigh, he called out for Wyll. The warlock appeared a moment later. Rising to his feet, he watched almost detached as the two took a portal to Avernus. The rest of the group crowded them, asking questions that went over his head as all he felt was numb and confused.

They were supposed to have won… so why did it feel like he had lost everything that matters?

He wanted desperately someone else to take charge. After two hundred years of being a spawn, he was used to following orders – as much as it irritated him to acknowledge it. But in that moment, he felt out of his depth and lost.

At some point, Astarion reached out and grasped Tav’s hand, just to reassure him that he was real and alive, not just a wax puppet with an empty expression. His hands were warm in his, he could feel the beating of his heart hum beneath his fingertips, and his familiar scent.

His lover smelled of the sunlight that he had spent a lifetime absorbing into his skin. As well as the splash of ozone he associated with the wild magic Tav wielded on his fingertips.  But now that inviting fragrance had grown dim. It felt cold and hollow in place of its former allure. The air felt sterile, as if the room had been aired out instead of refreshed. All the once welcoming aspects had been replaced with emptiness.

Astarion stared at him with a lost expression. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now. Part of him was scared if he looked away for even a second, he would just… disappear. Vanish completely. He felt powerless to do anything as he watched his vacate expression.

Tav had saved him. From Cazador and from himself. That insidious voice of his that had almost killed thousands of people for power. Who was he without his lover? His hero and white knight in shiny armour, as much as he loath to admit it.

He had always known what to do, always known the right things to say. They all looked up to their fearless leader for guidance. Yet when Tav had needed them the most, they had all failed him.

For the first time in two centuries, Astarion had dared to envision a future. To hope for something or someone he could call his own. Perhaps this was karmic justice, the only kind of end someone like him deserved.

Why did nothing ever go Astarion’s way? No matter what he did, he could never win. He had escaped death by becoming a vampire, only to suffer at the hands of a cruel master. He had escaped thanks to the tadpole, with the ever hanging threat of turning into a mindflayer. He had been rescued from that fate and fallen in love… only to lose the one person he had wanted to call his own.

Damnit. It wasn’t fair. Why did Tav have to suffer for his mistakes? That self-sacrificing idiot. That Astarion loved, so much that it physically hurt. If his heart could beat it would beat for him alone.

“Where did you go, darling?” he whispered in the silence between them, “what in the sweet hells am I supposed to do now?”

It took you nearly a week to fix your computer. Thankfully your cat hadn’t destroyed anything vital, but you have learned your lesson. Don’t have an open bottle of water and a cat on the desk at the same time. You booted up the computer, biting your nails in concern that it wouldn’t start. Only letting out a breath in relief once the screen flickered to life.

Instead of your logging window, however, the hud of Baldur’s gate 3 showed on the screen. You were still logged into the game. Your character currently lying in a bed in Elfsong tavern. The game mustn’t have saved when your computer crashed.

Oh Jesus, how much progress had you lost? When was the last time you had a long rested before you went to fight the brain? You chewed on your lip, but it had been nearly a week since your last session. If you were lucky the game had only been regressed to right after you killed Gortash.

You hoped you hadn’t lost your steam achievement for completing honor mode. Surely the two weren’t linked. You weren’t quite sure if you wanted to go through the end fight again with how stressful it had been. You had almost died, twice.

You tried opening the steam overlay, but no matter how many times you clicked the button, nothing happened. How odd. Alright, time to check the journal and see how much progress you had lost.

The moment you clicked on the screen, your character rose from the bed. You didn’t even have the time to click on the journal button before a cutscene played. You couldn’t quite recall a cutscene here, so you watched in curiosity as your character rose from the bed. From across the room Astarion instantly ran up to you.

His hands hovered over your avatar’s shoulder as if he was afraid to touch, his eyes shining with unshed tears. There was an expression on his face you couldn’t quite read. A mixture of worry and hope.

“You are awake,” he exhaled softly. “They almost convinced me you wouldn’t. But I never lost hope. I knew you would find a way back to me.”

He tried to smile, but it was a brittle, fragile thing and nothing like the charming smiles of the past. His eyes shifted, seemingly changing between your character’s face and directly into the screen.

“You are here… aren’t you?”

What a strange cutscene. You scratched your chin as you tried to recall hearing about anything like this. You knew Karlach had a cutscene where she broke the fourth wall and could sense the player and/or directly talk to you. Perhaps there were more hidden easter eggs like that and you had accidentally stumbled over Astarion’s?

Looking at your dialogue options, you frowned. You must be getting that bug again and should reload to have all the options show up. Clicking escape you frowned when you couldn’t find a quit or load game option. You tried saving, but that didn’t do anything either. You didn’t really dare to close the game in case you lost this interaction.

You turned your attention back to the scene. The only options you had were:

1. [Input]
2. Leave.

It felt cruel to just leave the conversation when Astarion looked so anxious. You clicked on one, wondering what would happen. It transformed into a little text box.

Huh.

Was this a puzzle? Did you have to guess a dialogue option that they had programmed in for Astarion to reply to? It’s not the first time you have played games like this – but they are usually text based and interactive.

You reached for your phone and tried to google it. But no variations of ‘Astarion’ and ‘input box’, ‘textbox’, ‘breaks fourth wall’, yielded any results, much to your chagrin.

This scene must have a secret quick timer, as Astarion started to speak again.

“Talk to me, darling,” he pleaded, he wasn’t trying to mask his anxiety now, “I just want to hear your lovely voice.”

The options to leave or input didn’t disappear as he spoke.

The integration of this was actually quite well done. You would just have to figure out this interaction on your own. What would make the most sense that they would program an answer to?

After a second of thinking, you wrote:

‘You are very pretty.’

For a long second, Astarion didn’t react, and your stomach dropped, thinking you had failed. Then he blinked and straightened his spine.

“Yes I am. Lovely too, but that’s something we have already established. Flattery is indeed a delightful sound to my ears, but hearing you speak once more is a balm to my heart and soul, my dear,” his words dripped with sarcasm and arrogancy, but his tone rang with sincerity and emotion as his voice wavered slightly. If you didn’t know better, you would have sworn he was fighting back tears. “Gods above, I have missed you deeply.”

You perked up with a little grin at finding one of the options, but his words made your heart ache. Perhaps you should have recorded this to send to your friends… but you had never been on tiktok and all that nonsense, so hadn’t really occurred to you.

The two options were still hovering on the screen. Of course, Larian would have programmed a response to flattery, it was part of his personality. But what else could you ask? Nothing immediately popped into your mind that you thought would work. You could always just reload later.

With that decided, you clicked to leave. Your character had barely turned before Astarion grabbed the arm to stop you from leaving.

“Please don’t go,” his expression dropped as a hint of desperation laced his tone, he looked like a kicked puppy dog. and you felt guilt churning in your stomach. You had seen in videos that if you left mid conversation, he would say something witty or snarky, but now he just looked miserable and lost. “Stay with me, please. Don’t leave me alone again.”

“Oh. Baby boy,” you said out loud, not being able to stop yourself. Your fingers reaching out to hover over his face on the screen. Why was he so sweet, always playing on the strings of your heart. It wasn’t fair he wasn’t real. Just a series of cute little pixels.

The silver locks of his hair seemed almost a glow in the flickering lights of the inn. His crimson eyes were molten with a mixture of desperation and hope. You had never seen his expression so open and sincere, like all the defences had melted away in his attempt of complete transparency.

Jesus Christ, how do you even reply to something like this? Why haven’t anyone written a tutorial on how to get the best reaction yet? Fucking stupid reddit being too slow for once. You picked up your phone to attempt to google it again, maybe this interaction was brand new from the latest update. If you were lucky someone had posted something about this within the last few minutes.

A noise from the kitchen distracted you before you could, as it was followed by a loud meow. Dropping your phone, you removed your headset and rose to your feet to investigate what your cat had done this time. You really need to figure out a way to keep the darn feline from walking on the kitchen table all the time.

It was nearly an hour later before you remembered the game, having become distracted by chores and other boring adult responsibilities. It was with slight chagrin that you noticed that the scene had ended. It really must have been a quick time event and you failed. Hopefully you could just check on youtube later what you had missed out on once someone uploaded the interaction.

You noticed that your character was back lying in bed. Must be a new idle animation, you figured.

You started to wonder if you should just start a new save, start the adventure from scratch. There was no point playing if you only had the brain fight left. Besides, Act 3 was kind of exhausting. A lot of people burned out here due to all the things one could do. No, you had a favourite. Act 1 had all the flirty scenes after all. You loved watching the characters fall in love.

Glancing around the camp, you realized with a jolt that most of the npcs were missing. Neither Karlach nor Wyll were at their usual spots. As you searched, you noticed that only Astarion, Gale and Shadowheart remained. They were idling in a corner on the opposite side of the room.

Withers wasn’t anywhere to be seen either.

How odd.

Your game must be bugged out if they were just standing there in the corner. You clicked on the map to investigate. However you only got halfway through the room before the group dispersed. You had a strange thought, wondering if they had been gossiping.

No, that was ridiculous. You could always hear it if the npcs were talking together.

Your cat must have messed up more than you realized, though it sounded impossible that some water would be able to corrupt a digital game. No… something else must be happening. As to what? You had no clue.

Every time you tried to leave the room, it just cut to the same cutscene of Astarion trying to persuade you not to go. Even clicking on the map to teleport just instantly cut to it. You were stuck and the journal was just unhelpful, seeming to just be a garbled mess of error codes.

You had enough of this nonsense today. You were an adult, and you were tired, and you have about two hours before you had to get to bed at a reasonable hour. You turned your screen off and left, deciding to go watch the newest episode of a tv-show you were following instead.

“At least he isn’t being idle anymore. That must mean something, right?”

Astarion ignored Shadowheart’s pitying glance. Instead, his eyes were on his lover where he had tucked him back into bed hours ago. It was the most life in him he had seen in a week. Tav had even spoken. Sure, just a short phrase but it was something. Enough to give him hope that his lover was still in there somewhere.

After the mess at the harbour, both the cleric and Gale had cast all the spells they knew yet nothing worked. Neither dispel magic nor remove curse. None of Shadowheart’s healing magic had born any fruit. It was simple as if Tav’s mind had just gone… elsewhere. Somewhere the vampire couldn’t follow.

He hated it. Every minute of it. It felt as if he had never left the kennels. Still powerless to do anything.

“Frankly, Astarion. I don’t think it’s working. He doesn’t react to your words, he just lets you tuck him back into bed like a zombie. Maybe you should just let him leave,” Shadowheart suggested, she put her hand on his arm trying to comfort him.

“Giving up is not an option,” he snarled, shaking her hand off, “he never gave up on us, don’t you tell me you would abandon him now after everything we have been through.”

She sighed and dropped her arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just follow him. See where he wants to go. Perhaps he is trying to lead us to the solution. That way you can keep tabs on him at the very least.”

He pressed his lips into a dismayed line, not being able to refute her suggestion. He knew he was being overprotective, but in this state if anything happened, Tav didn’t have his wit to fight to defend himself. Astarion also had the sneaking paranoia that if he looked away, his lover would just vanish into thin air.

He knew he shouldn’t be so short with his companions. They were trying to help. Gale spent most of his time either at the sorcerous sundries or in Roland’s newfound tower, and Shadowheart was exhausting her medical knowledge and even praying at night, hoping for a solution. They were doing a lot more than Astarion, he had to admit with chagrin. He didn’t know magical theory or healing.

In fact, he had been reduced to a glorified babysitter.

He sighed and picked up the gruel the cleric had brought from the tavern below. Bringing it with him to the bed, he fluffed some pillows so Tav wouldn’t choke on the food. Then he proceeded to spoon feed him.

Astarion was sure if the other man was aware enough, he would feel humiliated at this. The vampire wasn’t sure how he felt either, he had never fed anyone before. Yet as he used a napkin to clean out a smudge on his chin, he didn’t feel repulsed or annoyed.

Imagine, Astarion, former magistrate and philanderer, having fallen so low as to feel mushy about spoon feeding his lover. Perish the thought.

It had been a week since they defeated the Elder brain, and Tav had just been laying there in the bed he had tucked him into. He wasn’t even sleeping, he was just… laying there. Motionless. Did he even need food? Astarion hadn’t a clue, but he still fed him food and water lest he starved.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

It was strange how quiet the camp had become without Tav’s presence filling it up. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he was an amazing listener. Always knew what to say to make everyone confide in him. He would always check in on everyone in the evening. Make sure everyone felt listened to, like he actually gave a damn about everyone’s problem.

Begrudgingly one of the reasons Astarion had fallen so hard for him. Tav could always see through him effortlessly, past the charm and the snark, and his perfect and beautiful mask that he wore to the world. He had seen him at his worst, seen the broken and twisted thing he was deep down, yet had decided he was worth it.

What a naïve and foolish man. But at least Tav was his idiot.

Without their leader, the camp kind of just… fell apart. No one really knew how to interact with each other. The silence felt throbbing, and no one knew how to fill the missing space.

Astarion heard the door to their room open, but he did not look up from his task. Shadowheart greeted the newcomer and there was a quick conversation too soft to bother paying attention to. It was only when he heard the rustling of Gale’s robe as he approached that he dropped the spoon back into the bowl.

“Here I thought Shadowheart had been the one to feed him,” the wizard commented with a hint of humour Astarion was sure was glittering in his hazel eyes.

“Tav has been feeding me since the grove. Seems only fair I returned the gesture,” he grunted in response and rose to his feet, bringing the bowl with him as he did. He fixed a scowl at the intruder. “Did you find something, or was it another waste of time?”

He didn’t seem perturbed by his less than stellar tone, probably used to the vampire’s increasingly snappish temper as the days passed. “I found someone who might help with answers, actually,” he moved so he was no longer blocking the view, and Astarion stiffened slightly in surprise seeing Withers standing next to the cleric.

His stomach lurched with hope seeing the undead. The daft lich or whatever he was always knew more than he wanted to let on. Speaking in riddles as he did. Astarion approached, discarding the half-eaten bowl on a table as he did.

“Finally, a professional,” he proclaimed, ignoring the irate look Shadowheart sent him, “what’s wrong with him? And most importantly, how do we fix it?”

“There is nothing wrong with your friend,” as always, Withers dried face showed no emotion, “his purpose has simply been concluded.”

“What in the nine hells is that supposed to mean?” Astarion frowned and crossed his arms, “His purpose? Speak clearly, you dried prune.”

“Even the gods are blind to the wills of their creators,” he continued, speaking in riddles as per usual. Not at all perturbed at the slack attempt at an insult thrown his way.

It only fuelled Astarion’s irritation, it boiled under his skin with a mixture of anger and dread. If Withers didn’t have a solution, then he didn’t know who else to ask. “Use your necromancy and bring him back,” he growled impatiently, trying to mask his desperation.

His words were left ignored as Shadowheart spoke. “What are you talking about?” she looked curious and contemplative, as if she was trying to unravel the information the lich was sharing.

“Your friend was an avatar serving a being beyond our reality. One that even the gods must adhere to. Your adventures together were simply a fanciful game.”

Astarion ran his hands through his silver hair, for once not caring that it would ruin his impeccable style. He was sure if he wasn’t already paler than a corpse he would surely have looked sickly in that moment. He ignored the cleric querying more about the subject. His head was simply spinning with impossible things.

The creator of gods? What utter nonsense were they blabbering about?

He glanced in the direction of Tav, his stomach churning with unease and confusion. What in the sweet hells was he involved with? It suddenly occurred to him that he knew little about Tav’s life before the crash. Unlike the rest of their colourful companions and their secrets, he had just presumed their leader had led an ordinary life in comparison and therefore hadn’t deemed fit sharing.

Yet it appeared he had been keeping more secrets than the rest. Astarion had fallen for his heart and personality, hadn’t cared what his past was. His mistake to not have prodded more while he had the chance.

Tav had always seemed too good to be true, the realization filled Astarion with bitterness, that he had been right from the start.

“Why are they playing with us like this?” he asked harshly, cutting the conversation between the others in half. He wanted to know why his heart had been played with. Karmic justice perhaps, after two hundred years of seducing strangers. He didn’t remotely like being on this end of the stick.

“Our world is but a game of chess to their kind. We are simple pawns to control and sacrifice for mere amusement, or so I would presume,” Withers replied, his voice still stoic but he could sense a hint of pity lacing his tone.

Astarion balled his fist with growing anger and despair. Had neither of them ever been fully free to make their own choices?

“Surely there is something we can do to save him,” he tried not to sound like he was pleading, yet his eyes glinted with desperation, “how do I cut the strings to his puppet master?”

“That I do not think is possible –“ the old skeleton started but he interrupted him with a harsh snarl.

“We have fought and defied gods and snuck into a devil’s own house in hell. How is this any different? Surely there must be a way to go wherever these creatures live and free him from their control?”

His angry and desperate words were only met with silence. Neither Gale nor Shadowheart would meet his gaze. Cowards the both of them. They had defied their gods for their freedom, yet they were not willing to fight the gods’ gods for Tav. The same man who had helped them seek their individuality. They owned him everything. The world wouldn’t still be standing if it wasn’t for him.

“I fear you seek the impossible,” if he didn’t know better, he would have sworn Withers was trying to placate him. “It is understandable that seeing your friend this way is difficult. I suggest you let me take custody of the empty vessel. I shall return him in half a year before it expires –“

“No,” Astarion’s refusal was quick, accentuated with a flash of fangs, “we shall not give up. Tav never gave up on us. If there is only six months left then I shall not lose even a second of his company. You are not taking him from me.”

“Astarion,” Shadowheart reached for him, her expression one of pity, but he brushed her hands away before they could touch. “There are powers here that we cannot possibly meddle with –“

“He woke up,” he snarled, “he spoke to me. Karlach said he would only return once and that was in six months. Yet he was here for a few minutes.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes glancing between Astarion and Withers. “We haven’t been able to communicate with her yet. We won’t know the full extent of it until we can talk with her.”

“At least we owe Tav enough to not give up on him yet,” Gale finally joined the conversation, though his expression was troubling. They all knew he hadn’t been able to find anything as of yet. Not even his attempts of contacting Mystra had born any fruit.

Astarion could have kissed him in that moment, if not for the hideous beard that marred his lip. “Thank you, at least someone is being reasonable.”

“Though I fear the task is impossible, I shall bow to your unwavering optimism for the time being. You may merely call, and I shall take the vessel off your hands,” Withers bowed his head slightly, acquiescing to their wish.

Surely there was something Astarion could do to keep Tav’s consciousness tattered for longer. He was getting desperate.

You were off work early and you didn’t have any adult responsibilities for the rest of the evening for once. You were really itching to play some more, it had already been over a week since you completed your honor run. You had promised yourself you would take a break and play something else once you finished it… your resolve had lasted a week, and only because your computer hadn’t been working.

It was a day or two later that you booted it up, only to notice you were still logged into the same save. Turning your pc off hadn’t forced the game to close, it seemed. Perhaps you should pull the cord if turning it off and on didn’t yield the desired effect?

It was certainly a plan B. But one thing at a time. You had to open the task manager. Once again, the steam overlay wouldn’t appear. You tried for a minute before spamming the windows button in the hope that the taskbar would surface at the bottom of your screen so you could search for the task manager there.

Nothing happened.

With an irritated noise in the back of your throat you picked up your phone to google the shortcut. You could never really recall the steps from memory. It only took you a few second to find the answer. You followed the instructions hopeful. Three times, just in case you were doing something wrong. You weren’t the best with computers in general.

Yet again, nothing happened on your screen.

You pushed your glasses up an inch to rub your eyes in frustration. You just wanted to start a new game. Had looked forward to it the whole day. You had already decided you wanted to play a female drow next. Lolth sworn or perhaps as the dark urge. Maybe both. Just for the interaction with Dhourn where he calls your character ‘mistress’. You had seen a video about it on youtube and were keen to experience it first handed.

Maybe you should just pull the plug, hoping it wouldn’t damage anything else. But at this point your computer was already useless. Perhaps you should ask your cousin if he knew what to do.

Your eyes flickered over your screen as you mulled your options. Only for your heart to jump in surprise at the view that met you. Your character was still lying in bed, but this time Astarion was curled up next to you.

It made your cheeks flush slightly in delight at the cute sight. The developers of Larian sure were willing to go to great lengths to pander to their audience by adding new idle animation for romanced characters.

You attempted to screenshot it, but you didn’t get any effects to indicate that it had worked.

“Stupid broken piece of crap,” you muttered under your breath. You picked up your phone and took a picture, however when you clicked on the image to send it to a friend on discord, the reflection of light from your window obscured your whole screen.

Dropping your phone back on the table, you looked back to your monitor. You simply enjoyed the cute sight for a minute or so, of the two pixelated boys cuddling in bed. If not for the occasional motions of the wind moving the curtains or Astarion shifting on the bed, you would have thought that your screen had frozen.

You had really wanted to play Baldur’s gate today. Perhaps instead of starting a new game, you could just finish this run… again. If you were lucky the game would let you start a new save if you completed this one. It was worth a shot at the very least.

Having made up your mind, you clicked on the screen. The avatar rose from the bed and you could finally open your inventory. None of your gear were equipped, and it took an annoying amount of time before the clothing appeared on your character. Probably as long as it would be to physically put them on, you gathered with a scoff.

Whilst your character was loading, you clicked on tab, only to realize you couldn’t access anyone else’s inventory. In fact, there were no one else in your party currently. With a frown, you moved your cursor and noticed the only ones in the camp was you and Astarion currently. The other companions must have bugged out.

What a bummer. You chewed your lip, wondering if you could even finish the last fight with just two characters. You didn’t like your odds in honour mode. You didn’t even have Gale, so you couldn’t cheese the last boss fight by having him blow himself up.

On the other hand, if your party did get wiped out, then you would get the defeated screen and get thrown back to main menu. You had nothing to lose by trying. If you did manage with just two characters, you would be able to brag to your friends about it.

Having made up your mind to at least make an attempt, you clicked on the sleeping form of Astarion. A cutscene immediately started as you did. The pale elf opened his eyes and sat up with a groggy expression. Though the moment he noticed it was you who had woken him, his eyes focused and he rose from the bed.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, darling” he smiled, but there was tension around his eyes you couldn’t quite read. “Are you back with me?”

That was a new greeting, you thought absentmindedly.

The same options as last hovered on your screen. Just leave and input. No choice to ask him to join your party. Perhaps you were meant to type it?

You had completed this game a half a dozen time by now… perhaps more, yet you couldn’t quite recall what the phrasing was word from word. You hesitated for a moment, you could always google it. On the other hand, surely they wouldn’t make the interaction so restrictive as to need it to be phrased correctly. You decided to take a chance as you started to write into the text bar. If you failed, you could always google it later.

‘I would like you to come with me.’

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly in what appeared to be a mixture of surprise and hope. It made the crimson in his eyes sparkle slightly in the light. “Anywhere, my love,” he rushed out, “Wherever you go is where I wish to be at.”

You couldn’t help but flush slightly at the response. That was definitely a new one. A lot sweeter and heartfelt than what he usually said.

“But we must wait for nightfall,” he continued, his brows looking a little pinched with concern. His eyes flickering from your character’s face and towards the window.

The reply made you frown with bewilderment.

‘Why?’ you typed, hoping the game would acknowledge the question. Much to your relief, it did.

“I’m a vampire spawn. Can’t exactly walk around freely in daylight,” his lips tugged with self-depreciative amusement, before it faltered and was replaced with concern. “Or have you forgotten?”

This whole interaction puzzled you. He should still be able to walk around in sunlight. Maybe this was a secret event that could only be triggered during a long rest? You didn’t want to lose out on whatever it was, at any rate.

Giddy at the thought of experiencing a new cutscene, you clicked on leave without replying to his question. You tried tapping on the long rest button. When nothing happened after your fifth attempt, you frowned.

It’s always so bugged out, you swear. More often than not when you play co-op. Deciding to try the manual way, you clicked at the fireplace. You noticed absentmindedly that Astarion was trailing after your character as you moved. Unusual behaviour in camp, but you decided not to question it. The rest of the game was bugged out already as is. There wasn’t even a portrait on the left side to indicate he had actually joined your party either.

Clicking on the fireplace did nothing, aside from turning the fire off and on.

Fuck.

Stupid glitched out piece of shit. You wanted to see the cutscene but the game wouldn’t let you. What was the point of playing if you couldn’t do anything? You had taken a whole evening off just to play and now you couldn’t.

You picked up your phone, wondering if you should text a friend and go out for drinks or something instead, so you could lament about your broken computer. You sent a quick message to your best friend and rose to your feet.

Entering your kitchen, you turned on the kettle. While the water boiled, you pat your cat and put food in the bowl. You received an appreciative meowl in response. You added a bag of your favourite flavour of tea to your steaming cup. A notification on your phone distracted you, and you picked it up to see that your friend had replied to your message.

Seeing as you had blown them off earlier to play videogames, they had made plans with their partner. You considered for a brief second to beg if you could join anyway, but decided not to third wheel their date. Just because you were chronically single, didn’t mean everyone else were.

Which left you with two options. Try to find something on Netflix to mindlessly binge for the rest of the evening or attempt to fix your damn computer. You hadn’t tried pulling the plug yet.

You threw the teabag in the trash and took a sip of the warm beverage. Returning to your bedroom, you barred your cat entrance, not wanting to risk having the feline and a cup of hot tea on your desk at the same time. Considering what had happened the last time.

Sitting down, you put your headphones back on and turned your attention back to the screen. In your absence, your character had been tucked back into bed. It really was a neat idle animation, even if the rest of your game was bugged out.

Astarion wasn’t lying in bed this time, but sitting on the floor cleaning his weapons with a dirty rag. You had the distinct feeling his eyes kept wandering to your avatar every so often. You watched the scene quietly whilst sipping on your tea. Though you had intended to try pull the plug, you felt mesmerised at the peacefulness of the scene.

Only snapping back to yourself when you finished your drink. You rose to your feet to bring the cup back to the kitchen. Once you returned, you noticed your cat had snuck in. The feline was sitting on the keyboard and staring expectantly at the screen.

With a noise of exasperation, you picked her up and told her with a stern voice that she knew very well she wasn’t allowed on the keyboard, but when had the feline actually ever heeded your words? You placed her on the bed, hoping against everything that she would stay there.

You were about to hunker down underneath the desk when you heard a familiar voice speak in your headphones. Glancing at your monitor, you realized that your cat must have done something to trigger Astarion again.

You could ignore him and pull the plug… but when had you ever been able to resist hearing his sweet voice? Neil Newbon had done such an excellent work that you couldn’t just not listen to it. You picked up the headphones again and turned your attention to the screen.

You were too late to hear the voice line, and with a grunt you opened the dialogue log to check what he had been saying. The only thing it displayed was some error codes. With a frown, you clicked out of it. Now that you were thinking about it, nothing Astarion had said since you booted the computer had subtitles accompanying it.

You doubled checked your settings, but the subtitles option was still checked. You leaned back in your chair with a sigh. Just another thing about your game that was glitched, you figured.

Astarion’s face was hovering on your monitor. His expression seemed to tighten by the second, his lips pressing into a line of dismay or disapproval. He seemed so sad in that moment. Perhaps the line he had spoken was about his former life under Cazador’s control.

You glanced at your dialogue choices, but they were still just the same two. Nothing had changed.

Not knowing what else to do. You typed into the text box:

‘Could you repeat that?’

It didn’t hurt to try. If the developers were clever or kind, they would allow a repeat.

The melancholic expression on his face of a moment ago vanished, though you weren’t sure if the one that replaced it was sincere or a mask to hide his pain. The narrator said nothing. Where was an insight roll when you needed it? Though, it wouldn’t have helped much as you had a tendency to fail those.

“Nothing important, dear. I was simply wondering if you were still here with me,” Astarion replied smoothly with a smile that looked too brittle to be entirely sincere. But the narrator wasn’t saying anything, so you could only presume otherwise.

Once again, he was saying strange things. Your character hadn’t gone anywhere. They were still stuck in the Elfsong tavern after all.

“Just stay with me to nightfall and I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” he continued, his tone sounding urgent. His eyes shining with a mixture of hope and something else you couldn’t quite read. “Can you do that for me?”

 You chewed on your lip, pondering the answer to his question. The most obvious would be ‘yes’ or ‘no’ of course. You picked up your phone again to google to see if there was a third, hidden, option. This was so much harder when you didn’t have a list of preset dialogue to pick from.

Once again, it seemed no one had uploaded this interaction yet.

You exhaled loudly in irritation, your breath stirring the locks of your hair as you did.

“Just talk to me,” Astarion continued with a hint of plea in his voice when you were quiet for too long.

Another quick time event? You wished there was a notification for this, but the game must be too bugged out for it to trigger properly, you figured with chagrin.

“I’m all pointy ears to the song of your voice, my love.”

You hesitated for a second, wondering what options were even possible.

‘You are very pretty,’ you decided to type, wondering if you could trigger the funny and sweet response from last time. You never grew bored of rewatching your favourite lines, and this was a new one.

Astarion didn’t react as predicted, instead his expression faltered. You weren’t able to read all the emotions that flickered through him, they reigned between despair and confusion, before ending with mixture of desperation and determination, and then, suddenly he was kissing your avatar.

The sight sent warmth flooding to every inch of your body. Your eyes flickered off your monitor in embarrassment for a second before returning to stare at the screen.

 Astarion tangled his fingers in your character’s hair and moved to straddle their waist. Their chest pressed closely together, not leaving so much as an inch of space. One of his hands curled on your character’s nape, and you couldn’t help but mirror the motion with your own as you felt the skin tingle almost like you could feel the phantom touch.

You noticed your cat staring at you in the corner of your eyes. Gaze piercing where the feline laid on the bed.

“Don’t judge me,” you defended yourself with a blush, “I didn’t know repeating the phrase would trigger a kissing scene.”

It was certainly a nice surprise. Every other time companions kiss in this game, you have to ask. The fact Astarion did it now clearly indicated his love for your character. It was a sweet response.

You turned your attention away from the cat to focus back on the monitor, expecting the scene to already be over, but to your surprise it kept continuing.

Astarion's hand slipped underneath your character’s armour, slowly pulling the parts away as he undressed them, piece by piece. His lips were hot and passionate where they moved against the avatar’s, and you could have sworn there was even some tongue-wagging involved at this point.

Your mouth dried a little at the sight at how sensual the motion was. You could almost conjure up the image of the texture of his tongue and the sweetness of his lips as he claimed his price. You bet he liked to tease, that he would graze the lips with the corner of a fang effortlessly without ever drawing blood. He would surely be one to playfully bite and nip, to tease and tempt, to taste and toy, without ever hurting his partner.

Oh god, you squirmed slightly in your seat at the image. You were getting far too old to be dragged back to your teenage fixation of vampires, and twilight. Something never changes, you admitted begrudgingly.

Your mind blanked a little at the fact Larian studios had even approved the making of this kind of animation. Seemed more fitting in a hentai or something.

The sensual seduction in this scene was undeniably steamy and the performance left you breathless, your mind transfixed with pure want. You felt the intensity of his seduction and the heated atmosphere, captivated by it like a like a rabbit caught in the predatory gaze of something that desired to swallow you whole. The attention and affection he showed your character was intoxicating, the subtle touches and the playful bites making you shudder.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the heat rising in your cheeks as you felt the urge to melt deeper into your chair.

You partly envied and pitied the graphic designers that had been involved in the creation of this scene.

The VFX-team had really gone all in. You expected it to fade to black any moment now. It was only when Astarion pushed his hand into the waistband of your character’s pants that you started to get a little uncomfortable.

Something about the way the vampire spawn moved felt… off. It was as if he was trying a little too hard to be enticing. His expressions and his actions a touched too desperate where his hands and lips moved with feverish intensity.

The narrator usually commented how vacant Astarion’s eyes looked during sex scenes. It wasn’t the case this time. There was something else burning in his gaze. You could only describe it as cold determination.

You didn’t know if it was the intention of the developers, but it made your stomach churn with unease.

After a moment of hesitation, you started spamming space, hoping you could skip it, as it was not something you had been mentally prepared to watch. Especially not with your cat’s judgemental glare hovering over your shoulder. The whole thing just felt wrong.

To your dismay the scene didn’t skip or end, instead the pale elf was pushing your character’s trousers down.

Not knowing what else to do, you opened the text box.

‘Stop.’

You were grateful that the developers had programmed the avatar to grab Astarion’s hands to cease his actions. A nice little detail.

He immediately stilled at the command. He only pulled back far enough to look at your face, his eyes seemed to hover somewhere between the character and directly into the monitor. An emotion flashed across his face too fast to read, before a flirty smile tugged on his lips.

“If you want to stop for my sake, I can assure you I want this,” he practically purred with a husky voice as he shifted on your lap in a certain way you could only describe as a grinding motion. “You are sweet, but I want to feel you again.”

You suddenly felt horribly and chronically single. Your hands hovered of the keyboard, head spinning as you tried to figure out what you would even want to reply to this. Where were the preset dialogue options when you so desperately needed them?

“We never did get our celebratory romp,” he grinned with a flash of his fangs that made him appear more like a mischievous imp.

‘I said no,’ you typed after a second of hesitation.

Astarion’s expression immediately faltered. The charming smile died and he looked more vulnerable. He slid his hands out of your character’s and sat back, though he didn’t leave the confines of your lap.

“Why? What changed? Did I do something wrong?” he asked with a hint of desperation, reminding you more of a kicked puppy than anything. “Don’t you want me anymore?”

The words tugged on your heartstring, and you almost felt guilty for stopping him. You stared at the screen anxiously, hoping against everything that the game would take pity on you and transform the dialogue options into something more useful than just ‘leave’ and ‘input’.

‘I will always want you,’ you wrote, hoping that it was one of the programmed responses.

It was clearly the right thing to say, as the tension of his face eased. His leaned forward until their foreheads touched. His eyes drifted shut as if he was simply basking in the intimacy of the moment. You felt almost like you were watching something private, like you were an intruder and part of you wanted to look away.

After a moment, your fingers went back to the keyboard, deciding to add a little prose to the scene. He would probably not be programmed to react to it, but that didn’t stop you.

‘My heart will always beat for the both of us,’ you wrote with a soft smile tugging on your lip.

Astarion exhaled softly. His arms wrapped around your avatar’s shoulders. His head drifted down to press into the hollow of their throat. You were grateful that your avatar embraced him in return, holding him against their chest as if he was something precious.

It was a tender and sweet moment. Free of the sexual tension that pervaded the previous encounter, nor showed any indication that the vampire desired a quick snack.  Instead, it was a moment of warmth and comfort, of intimacy and affection between lovers, an embrace of two people who had come together to seek each other’s company.

It made your inside soft and your heart bleed with longing. If only you had someone to hug and cuddle like that. In lieu of something real, a pixelated boyfriend was a good replacement.

The moment seemed to only belong to the two of them. They looked almost happy, and you couldn’t help but envy that bliss just a smidge.

“Don’t drift away again. I need you here. Please,” Astarion’s voice was so soft that you almost missed the dialogue, there was a hint of plea and desperation in his voice, “don’t let them take you away from me. Fight, for me. For us and our future. Otherwise, I will assume you lied about wanting me.”

You swallowed a thick lump at the words. The game never failed to play with your heartstrings. Your eyes stung a little with unshed tears, wondering what you could say to reassure him otherwise. That you had no intention of going anywhere. Though the whole interaction confused you, and you wondered if you had missed out on something that had triggered this scene.

You hadn’t been playing the dark urge right? You were pretty certain you hadn’t wanted to take the chance during an honor run. Did this have something to do with Bhaal? You had never romanced Astarion as the dark urge yet, and although you had spoiled yourself by watching some videos of the duo, you tried staying away from major spoilers.

It certainly would explain why you hadn’t seen this cutscene yet.

With your mind made up that this was the only plausible explanation, you leaned back onto your chair and let yourself daydream that you were the one Astarion was hugging. It was certainly nice to know there was an extra option in the game to hug Astarion, aside from the one time in act 2 and at the party at the epilogue. The pale elf really deserved more hugs.

Chapter Text

“It’s nightfall. Wake up.”

You must have fallen asleep at some point, as the next thing you jolt awake by a soft touch on your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open and your heart pounded in your throat wondering if there was an intruder in your room.

Relief flooded through you when you recognize your cat was pushing her tail into your face. You reach out to pat the feline, your mind still foggy from your nap.

Just behind the cat's head you can see Astarion's face hovering. That must have been the voice that woke you, you gathered. He was no longer in his leisure wear and had equipped his leather armour.

“Are you here?” The pale elf asked with a pinch of concern, but there was a heaviness of sorrow in his expression that made you think he was expecting the answer to be no.

That more than anything was what made you gently push the purring cat away so you could reply. The feline immediately jumped off the table, probably offended she was being ignored. You could only pay attention to one of your sweethearts at a time, you thought with a sliver of regret.

'I’m here.'

Relief flooded across his face and a smile grew on his lip. It made the crimson in his eyes molten with warmth. He extended a hand. “You have been couped up inside long enough, dear. What’s on the agenda today? Eloping?”

His teasing comment made a smile tug on your lip and your cheeks bloom lightly. You knew both Wyll and Gale proposed during the events of the game if you romanced them. Though you supposed one could argue agreeing to become the Ascendant Astarion’s spawn and consort would be the same as marriage.

Despite the spawn Astarion’s teasing, you knew he hadn’t meant in that way, of course. Just like when he said ‘I love you’ during his second seduction scene. But that didn’t stop the butterflies fluttering in your chest at the idea.

Picking the option to leave the conversation proved to be the right thing to do, as your avatar accepted the offered hand and the pale elf pulled them out of bed. It was a cute little scene.

Leaving the camp, you were expected to be dropped wherever you had entered from. Desperately hoping it would give you a clue as to which quests you were missing. Much to your chagrin, when you walked through those doors, you found yourself in the corridor still inside Elfsong tavern.

With a little sigh, you clicked to go down the stairs. Astarion following in your footsteps. This time there was a little portrait on the left indicating that he was in your party. Good, the game wasn’t too glitched.

The first thing that met you as you stepped into the saloon, was the noise of too many npcs talking at the same time. A murmur in the background that couldn’t be distinguished into individual voices. With a slight frown you looked around. There were too many people stacked in the room.

All the tables had been pushed to the walls to make space for makeshift camp. Some people even laid on blankets on the floor. The southern wall was missing entirely, only rubble remaining.

You wondered if your game was glitched again. On your first playthrough you had foolishly downloaded it onto your HDD drive and the structures of the city took several minutes to load in. You just walked around looking through buildings. It happened every time you left and re-entered the area.

Ignoring the strange behaviours of the npcs, you left the tavern to verify your suspicion. This wall wasn’t the only one missing, it appeared. Chunks of buildings were just gone or laid scattered across the streets. Opening your map, you could even see portion of the city missing.

Strange… you wondered if you were even capable of completing the game at this point if it was this bugged out.

Making up your mind to at least try, you headed in the direction of Wyrm's Rock fortress to see if you could find Gortash. The storm bridges were up. As expected, they always were after you destroyed the steel watch foundry. An easy obstacle to get through. You could just fly. One of the handiest skills in the game rewarded by the astral-touched tadpole. You always missed it when you restarted from act 1.

Clicking on your action bar, you frowned when the option was missing. You opened your character sheet to peruse the page with your skills so you could drag it back. You squinted, looking over the sheet several time trying to find it – you always tended to never find exactly what you were looking for at first glance.

You must have taken too long, because in the next moment a cutscene started to play. You straightened slightly in curiosity. You had never seen this one before. It was a guard lowering the bridge and notifying your party that Duke Ravengard was anticipating a visit.

Not Gortash?

You couldn’t help but frown slightly in confusion. Did that mean he was already dead and Wyll’s father had reclaimed his seat? Truth be told, you had never returned to the fortress after Bane’s chosen had been killed. Cool to see that they had added a scene for this too.

In any case, that meant you didn’t have any reason to be here. You should head to the sewers and check in on Orin. If she was dead too, then you could simply just get in the boat and trigger the endgame.

Mind made up, you turned away from the Wyrm's Rock fortress, not interested in whatever Duke Ravengard had to say. Probably just thanking you for freeing him. You didn’t feel like watching the cutscene right now. Something to leave for your next playthrough.

Astarion continued to follow, and you had the distinct feeling he was staring at your back with a pensive expression.

Before going down to the sewers, you talked to some of the merchants and stocked up on potions and scrolls. It had been a bit of a hassle to find them, as they weren’t in their usual spots. In the main square outside of the Sorcerous sundries, only one of the traders could be found at the Stormshore Armoury. Karlach’s friend, Fytz, was noticeably missing. You figured they were just bugged out too.

Returning to Bhaal’s temple, you noticed that it was completely deserted. Not even a single cultist to be found. Which could only mean that Orin was dead too. That made your life easier by far. That just meant you had the brain fight left.

You headed to the shore. The fight with the cranial rats didn’t trigger, and as you headed over the bridge to the little island, you came to an abrupt stop. The dinghy was missing.

No boat, no nothing.

Your stomach dropped in disappointed. This meant you had no way of completing the game. It was just too bugged out. With a sigh, you clicked on the escape button and tried to go back to main menu, however the option was greyed out.

What now? You couldn’t play, couldn’t leave. You were just stuck.

Picking up your phone, you tried to google the problem. Maybe you should just pull the plug already, it was the only thing you hadn’t tried. As you sat browsing your phone, a few messages from friends popped in and you got distracted from your issue for a few minutes by replying to them.

One of your friends had just adopted a new puppy. How adorable.

“Are you still with me? Darling?”

You forced your attention from your phone to see the game had cut back to Astarion. One of his hands were on your avatar’s biceps as if trying to ground them. The cold light of the cavern made the vampire look paler than usual. The silver in his hair looked almost muted. His expression was pinched with distress.

‘Yes,’ you hastened to reply, just to wipe that look from his face.

He immediately relaxed, his fingers shifting a little as he did but he didn’t drop his hand. “Though you are quite lovely to look at, I by far prefer watching you move and speak. So let’s continue doing that, hm?”

‘I don’t know what to do,’ you admitted, not sure if Astarion would even respond to that. Some games were kind and have NPCs give clues or reminders.

He frowned a little, his eyes searching the avatar’s face as if looking for something. “That’s a first for you to admit. Never known you to not know something. Why don’t you help me out here, darling. I have been following you around half of Baldur’s Gate at this point. Precisely what are you searching for?”

That was an excellent question. What were you searching for? Maybe he needed you to narrow down your question to something more specific.

‘How to proceed?’

The words hung between us for a long beat of silent. Astarion parted his lips before closing his mouth again with an audible clack. He winced slightly as if he accidentally grazed his cheek with a fang. The idea tugged an amused smile on your lips, though you doubted the graphic team would even bother to add such a strange detail.

‘Current quest update,’ you tried to rephrase when it appeared Astarion didn’t have a pre-programmed response to your question.

He dropped his hand from your character’s shoulder. The pinch between his brows looked like a blend of pensiveness and perplexed. “You are searching for something to do?” he spluttered, almost like he found the whole idea absurd. “Are you allergic to leisure? Aren’t you hero types allowed to take a vacation? Don’t tell me – ”

His face suddenly froze as though a thought occurred to him. His eyes widened slightly with what you could only discern as mixture of dread and anxiety. It was replaced a moment later with a fervent light, one bordering on desperation.

“Alright. I think I get it now. You need a purpose, a mission. Let’s see,” his eyes flickered around the cavern as if trying to search for an idea. You could practically almost see the cogwheel of his brain moving as he attempting to think. “I have an idea,” he brightened a moment later, “come with me.”

The cutscene ended abruptly and suddenly your character was being pulled by the arm as Astarion proceeded to lead you somewhere. Reminded you of the new pokemon games where the npcs would literally take you directly to the main quests.

Neat, now you didn’t have to click to walk anymore, and you leaned back on your chair as you watched them leave the temple. Your cat jumped up on the table at some point, and you gave her a scratch under the chin. She purred and curled into a ball in the usual spot on your desk. You made sure to remove your water bottle and put it under the table instead, just in case.

Astarion led you back to Riveton. This portion of the map seemed to be relatively bug free, but they had added a lot more people to the refugee camp, you noticed absentmindedly. The pale elf led you to the Gur camp, much to your surprise. Perhaps there was a following up you didn’t know about here after the death of Cazador?

To your great amusement, the cutscene that played was basically just Astarion demanded to know if they had any monster hunting contracts. His voice persistent and urgent. It was the first time you had ever seen him insisting we pick up a side-quest from the goodness of our hearts.

Truth be told, you paid more attention to the vampire than the Gur, and didn’t really care about the details. Something about hunting down the remainder of the werewolves Cazador had employed.

Without thanking them, Astarion turned back to face your avatar.

“Is this an agreeable quest? Killing mangy werewolves?” he asked, his eyes nearly burning with urgency and hope. He looked almost giddy with relief when you agreed.

The rest of the night was spent trying to track them down. The Gur gave a list of possible locations and a direction of where to start. An interrogation later and some clues that brought you to a part of the map of Baldur’s Gate you had never seen before, we finally managed to corner the pack leader.

At this point, you were almost falling asleep. You knew it had been a bad idea to stay up so late, but having found a new quest that was tied to Astarion, you had been reluctant to stop despite knowing you had work in the morning. Glancing at the time, you stiffened slightly. A jolt shot down your spine at the knowledge of how late it had gotten.

Shit.

In half an hour your alarm would ring. You’d had so much fun you hadn’t really noticed.

It was going to be a long day… yet part of you didn’t particularly regret it at that moment. You’d just have to consume your weight in coffee once you entered your workplace.

Being too tired to try figure out a way to persuade the werewolves into surrendering, your character and Astarion made short work off them. Afterwards, you turned to your companion.

‘I have to go,’ you told him, not entirely sure why you bothered. It wasn’t like he would notice your absence.

He stiffened slightly, his smile turning a little brittle for a second before a charming one replaced it. “I’ll come with. We are pair now after all,” grabbing your avatar’s hand, he entwined their fingers. “I meant it when I said that wherever you are is where I want to be at. So, what is next for us, darling?”

It made your heartstrings twang a little, at how earnest he sounded. If only, you thought wistfully. Perhaps it was because you were so tired and exhausted for staying up all night, but you decided to reply without thinking about it too hard.

‘You are sweet,’ you told him, ‘But I can’t bring you. Where I have to go, you can’t follow.’

“Then stay here,” he urged, pulling on your character’s arm to make them stumble closer. His eyes were bright and fervent with desperation. “With me.”

Your chest tightened into a lump at the tearful tone of his voice. Neil Newbon sure had done an excellent performance with this scene. It really did sound like he wished more than anything, that you wouldn’t go anywhere.

‘That’s not an option,’ you typed back with a hint of reluctance and guilt. If only you could play videogames at work, but that would surely get you fired quickly.

Astarion closed his eyes and tilted his head away. You could sense the disappointment and grief in the clenching of his jaws. Whatever he was feeling, he didn’t want you to see it. When he opened his eyes again and focused back, his expression was calmer.

“Will you return tomorrow?” he asked, his voice low and void of emotions.

You peered at his face for a long second, trying to determine what you could read on it. Behind you, your alarm started to bleep, but you ignored it. As the seconds ticked by, you realized the emotions on his face was one of hopelessness. Of one who didn’t dare to hope for a positive response, yet needed to ask nonetheless. It made your stomach churn slightly with guilt at having to leave.

‘I will,’ you promised, ‘I’ll come back to you.’

The unbridled joy on his face was one of the most beautiful expressions you had ever seen. You hated tearing your gaze from the monitor, but when your cat decided to duet your alarm with a hungry howl, you had no other choice. With reluctance you turned your screen off and removed your headphones. Your back ached in protest as you rose to your feet for having sat in the chair for so many hours.

Off to work you go. To feed your cat and to afford the electricity to stream your pixelated boyfriend. It’s a hard knock life.

The first thing you did once you got home from work was to fall asleep. You barely had the wit to feed your cat and yourself before falling asleep on the couch. You woke up at some point past midnight with your cat swiping at your toes. With a pained grunt you struggled to your feet. You brushed your teeth and went to bed.

In the back of your mind, something niggled, as if to remind you that you had forgotten something.

It was your best friend’s birthday the day after. You weren’t the most social type and didn’t thrive all that much in a group conversation. At some point during the evening your friend caught you browsing possibly Baldur’s Gate builds to try on your next run. You sent her a guilty smile and placed your phone back into your pocket.

“You weren’t replying to any of my texts last night,” the light frown on her face was clear evidence of her concern.

“I fell asleep early,” you admitted with a lopsided smile.

“Up playing that game of yours all night again?”

You didn’t meet her gaze this time, instead flickering your thumbs next to each other. Caught red handed but unwilling to admit it.

“I worry about you,” you weren’t sure if there was a hint of pity or just concern in her tone, “you know how you get sometimes. Fixated and obsessed. Maybe you should try doing something else for a while.”

She slid the present you had gifted her over the table. You glanced down on the box before meeting her face again with slight hesitation. “Are you sure?”

“You need it more than me. Besides, I have a partner now. Don’t need my darling Link,” she grinned impishly.

You picked up the copy of Zelda: tears of the kingdom and turned it in your hands. She had a point. Your hours in BG3 were getting borderline excessive.

“You might be right about that,” you grumbled, “it’s just that… I love the game so much. The npcs feels so real and I don’t think my heart has fluttered for anyone for so long.”

“Another fictional crush, babe?” your friend teased.

You flushed slightly in embarrassment. “Don’t judge.”

“Just a pinch. That’s what best friends are for,” she winked.

You groaned slightly, rolling your eyes at her antics.

“Fine,” you agreed, “I’ll play some Zelda. Prove that I’m not a complete loser.”

“That’s the spirit,” she hummed cheerfully.

Once home, you decided to heed your friend’s advice. You needed to trade your Baldur’s Gate 3 obsession with something else for a while. You dusted off your Nintendo switch and booted up the game. Your cat curled up on your lap as you did.

Your vacation started a few days later.  Three weeks visitation to your family up north. One of your siblings were getting married and your parents had managed to weasel a promise that you would stay for a few weeks with them. They hadn’t seen you since last year’s Christmas.

It was nearly six weeks later before you remembered your bugged out game. When you finally booted up your computer, you noticed you were still logged in. Though you no longer found yourself at the Elfsong tavern. Your avatar was laying on a strange bed in a room with stone walls. Little knickknacks covered the shelves.

It took you a moment to realize that all the items were things you had picked up on the journey. Rings, necklaces, even three copies of the same book and other random things you had forgotten to sell. Your companion’s armours displayed on dummies. Everything seemed to have been carefully posed as if to remind the viewer of their adventure. Starting with the grove and ending in Baldur’s Gate.

Curiously, there was even a drawing of everyone on the wall that was signed by Volo. That was a cute detail.

You checked your inventory; it had been emptied but your camp clothing was still equipped. You noticed an unfamiliar necklace around your character’s neck, but hovering your cursor over it did not give you any information about said item.

Clicking on the closest mannequin, your avatar rose from the bed. You picked up the armour that belonged to you and dragged it to the equipment slot. Once again the sheet took its time to update to indicate that you were wearing it.

Whilst you were waiting, you opened the map to find any clues as to your current whereabouts.

Much to your annoyance, the map only showed the room you were in currently. Though you were puzzled to see that it read: ‘abandoned refuged’ on the left side of your screen.

You had just clicked on the door, when a cutscene started to play. The door was slammed open and Astarion rushed in. His eyes seemed almost wild as they met your avatar’s. The silver locks of his hair seemed a little windswept and bounced as he moved. He was wearing a different set of clothing than the last time you had seen him, and around his neck you noticed a similar necklace as the one you had seen in your own inventory.

You realized a moment later that the reason his attire was different, was because one of the dummies in the chamber was wearing his usual set of clothing.

 Without any preamble, the pale elf practically threw himself into your arms. The character stumbled a little, before returning the embrace.

“Have you finally returned?” his voice was breathy with urgency and hope as if he had just been sprinting. The husky tenor making you shiver as though he had whispered directly into your own ear. “Darling. My sweet love. You have no idea how much I have missed you.”

The whole ordeal puzzled you. Your character hadn’t gone anywhere as far as you were aware. You had simply left after finishing a quest in Baldur’s Gate.

‘Where am I?’ you decided to ask, hoping it would elicit a response.

Astarion pulled away from the embrace, though his hands didn’t let go for your character’s arms. Instead he grasped them lightly but firmly on their biceps. His eyes were fervid, and his smile a little too toothy to seem as calm as he wanted to portray.

“Remember that abandoned Sharran temple in the underdark? With the forge? Well, seeing as no one was using it, we decided why not make use of it ourselves,” he grinned with an impish and shrewd expression, “would be a shame to leave so many rooms and halls empty, no? Especially with a few thousand unfortunate souls in the need of a new home.”

Understanding suddenly dawned on you. This was part of the epilogue. In your absence, the game must have somehow fixed itself. It was cool to know you were able to see what happened to the vampire colony directly once they went to the underdark.

Astarion enthusiastic greeting probably meant your character had been away from a while and just returned from a mission or whatever. It all made sense to you now.

Glancing over the dialogue options, you noticed those hadn’t been fixed yet. It was still just the ‘input’ and ‘leave’ choices.

`Smart,’ you typed in reply, wanting to add in a joke but before you finished your sentence, Astarion grabbed your character’s hand and was already leading you out of the room.

“Let me show you around,” he urged with a smile. Something twinkling in his eyes that you couldn’t quite interpret. “I’m certain you will approve of what we have done with the place.”

You were curious to see that you were in a different part of the temple than last. Unlike the portion that the Duergar had used by the harbour, the lower chambers you had peered down into the chasm were mostly fully intact. Sure, broken pieces and worn-down architecture – though you were curious to see that any and all depiction of Shar worship had been painstakingly chiselled away.

As he led you through the corridors and up some stairs, you noticed npcs mingling in the corner of your screen, following your character with what you presumed where curious glances. You were giddy about the prospect of exploring more of this story, how the social structure would work without having one vampire to rule them all. And most importantly, how one was to expect feeding seven thousand starving spawns.

You tried stopping to get a better look, but Astarion wasn’t willing to let you linger anywhere on your own. You presumed it was by design of the developers. The art was there, you just couldn’t interact with anything. This was just a cutscene to show you around. Give some more in-depth details before moving on to the party at the end of the epilogue.

Astarion mentioned something about living quarters being separated by the mortal and undead population. Their wings being on either side of the temple, though they hadn’t explored all the chambers yet. Apparently, the Gur had set up some protection in case any of the vampires felt snackish at night.

There was even a canteen, and you were curious to see that actual food was served. A few Gur mingled in this room, something which you noted down for later. Hoping you had the dialogue option to ask about this afterwards. Like… why the hell would monster hunters shack up with vampires?

There was a recreational room, a library, and some other rooms that Astarion absentmindedly pointed out. It didn’t take you long to realize that he was leading your character ever upwards. Until you got to whatever counted as a rooftop in this cavern.

A cutscene finally started and you watched as he sat down by the edge and the avatar took a seat next to him, swinging their legs slightly as they did. From here you could see everything. The harbour and the underground river. You could even spot the glimpse of the forge and the lava in the distance.

The option to chat returned to the screen, though only the usual ones.

“What do you think?” Astarion asked, face open and expectant though you could sense a little anxiety and worry tightening the lines around his eyes. “Not the splendid halls of the Szarr palace, but it’s ours. What it lacks in grander it also lacks in baggage. Nothing some paint can’t fix.”

‘The place is far grander than I thought,” you typed conversationally.

“Not like we had much time to linger. Being in constant mortal peril and all that,” amusement tugged on his lips, “more is explored and discovered by the day. Some of the vampires aren’t just pretty faces. A couple used to be blacksmiths when they were mortal. Once the rubble is cleared, they want to see if they get the forge back up and running.”

You perked in interest at the news. ‘And procure the monopoly on the commerce of powerful magical gear.’

Clever boy, you thought with amusement. That would definitely create a stable source of income for the vampire colony. You wondered absentmindedly if there was any way of roping Dammon into joining. The tiefling would sure be excited about the prospect of working on whatever he wanted with the mythical forge.

“I knew you would see my vision. I haven’t been travelling with you just because you are a pretty face, darling,” Astarion grinned toothily, clear satisfaction on his face. The crimson in his eyes sparkled like rubies.

You couldn’t help but smile back, your cheek blossoming slightly. He had such an infectious grin.

‘Why are the Gur here?’ you asked, no longer being able to keep down your curiosity.

“They weren’t just about to let seven thousand spawns run free into the world,” he shrugged nonchalantly as if the topic didn’t matter, “they volunteered to keep us out of trouble and in exchange their children have a home.”

You could easily read between the lines. The monster hunters were making sure the vampires wouldn’t lose themselves to their bloodthirsty nature. Not a solution you had seen coming, but it made a degree of sense. You wondered slightly if the Gur also fed the spawns, but you decided not to pry into that can of worms.

“It has only been a few short weeks, time will tell if we can even manage to live harmoniously,” Astarion said with a degree of humour, his lips curling in the corner of his mouths enough to reveal the flash of a fang. “Who would you bet on winning if things go badly?”

‘Good question. Seven thousand feral spawns seem like the obvious choice just out of share numbers. The Gur are experienced monster hunters though. Even if they lost, if they managed to destroy all the boats at the harbour, the vampires would be stuck on this side of the river. Seeing as you can’t cross moving water on your own. The Gur might lose their lives, but they would be victorious in the end,’ you theorized, weighting the hypothetical scenario.

It only occurred to you when you hit enter that your words might be too complicated or long for the prewritten script, and you would most likely not get a reply.

Astarion stared at your character for a long minute with a baffled expression, before laughing. A throaty sound that sends shivers of delight down your spine. You didn’t know why, but you had the distinct feeling he had needed the laughter.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that. What we really need is someone impartial to mediate. Someone who both sides trust,” the stare he was sending your character felt rather pointed, and it made a smile twitch in the corner of your lip. “The colony need someone to lead. Someone everyone respects and look up to. You have always won the hearts and loyalty from everyone you meet. There is no one else I would rather follow than you, darling.”

You could easily read between the lines, and the knowledge made your chest warm pleasantly. Astarion was asking your character to stay, here, with him and help lead the vampires and keep the peace of the colony.  You had thought it was a forgone conclusion that the two would be together after the player chose not to break up at the harbour at the end of the fight.

But this scene was rather sweet. Astarion seemed both anxious and hopeful. How could you deny him anything? Though there was something about the dialogue that bothered you. You mulled over the issue, wondering exactly how you would reply to it.

‘No,’ you wrote with a hint of hesitation, hoping this wouldn’t trigger a breakup scene.

Astarion’s expression fell, the light in his eyes died and was replaced with dismay and a hint of anger.

“No? What do you mean no? Do you have any idea how much I have done for you? I am putting the only piece of the world I can at your feet,” his voice was a bland of a snarl and hopelessness, “I am trying my best here.”

Your heart clenched slightly at the expression, your stomach churning with guilt. The conversation reminded you slightly of the Ascendant version of Astarion. How he wanted to give you the world.

‘I never wanted to be anyone’s leader. Who ever said I wanted to rule?’

“You deserve everything,” he frowned with an elegant flourish of a hand, as if it was the most obvious explanation, “after all that you have done, the least we can do is obey your every command.”

You sat back on your chair. You didn’t like where this conversation was going. It felt like you were missing a vital piece of information. Perhaps there was a cutscene you had lost out on due to your game bugging out? Because why otherwise would the pale elf be acting so strangely. His whole character arch had been about wanting to earn his freedom, so why give up that autonomy now?

‘You never need to follow anyone again, Astarion. Whatever pedestal you have put me on, I don’t deserve it. You are free now, able to be your own person. So no, I won’t be your leader, but I will gladly stand by your side to support you as your partner,’ you wrote, imagining your character speaking with a compassionate voice.

Astarion grimaced at your words. His hand reaching up to brush at the corner of his hair as it seemed he was mulling over something with a pensive expression. Then he turned towards your avatar, one leg pulled up from the ledge so he could lean his hand on his knee.

“I have realized that freedom isn’t half as sweet without someone to share life with. I meant it when I said I loved you, that I love this and that I want it all. No amount of joy or triumph means anything without you by my side. You are needed here, not just as my lover. The colony needs you. I am not enough without your guidance. Just tell me what I need to do,” he replied with a soft voice that lacked any deceit. He was earnest in his plea.

“Please, tell me what I need to do to make this right.”

You dearly wished you had an option to pull him into a hug. To caress him and tell him that he was already more than enough. He was still afraid, you realized, not even half as confident as the Ascendent. They both wanted Tav to stay with them, but unlike the vampire lord, the spawn had no reassurance that his lover wouldn’t one day just abandon him.

You had no clue if Astarion was even replying to your words, or if the things you wrote was just close enough to a preset command, but you still wanted to reassure him. Though it was infuriating not having a fixed dialogue to pick from, as you didn’t feel yourself up to the task of saying the right words.

After a minute of contemplation, you decided to write a quote from ‘the boy, the mule, the fox and the horse.’

‘You know. sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. It can tell you that you are no good. That all is hopeless. But I have discovered this. You are loved and important. And you bring to the world things that no one else can,’ you recited, even though the two scenes weren’t really comparable.

You didn’t look at the monitor as you continued, not wanting to see his reaction just yet. Deciding to tack on some heartfelt words of your own.

‘You don’t need anyone to define you. Learn to believe in yourself just as strongly as I do. You were never broken, Astarion. You just had your self-worth twisted by a cruel man. In my eyes you have always been perfect just the way you are. Even if you are a tad misguided sometimes,’ you added the last with a sense of humour, hoping against everything that it was comprehensible. ‘But even then, it is only because you were denied a stable foundation to grow.’

Only then did you dare look back. Astarion seemed to be staring straight at the screen. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he wore a vulnerable expression. He slowly reached out to take your character’s hand. His fingers brushed the knuckle gently.

“I think you believe in me more than I do.”

‘You’ll catch up,’ you typed back without missing a beat.

“Stop being so kind to me,” his words were soft, almost like he was feeling flustered, “it makes me want to be nice back.”

You wondered if you had spent too much effort writing a whole paragraph of text when it was most likely just the overall message that triggered his response, but it was sweet nonetheless to see. The illusion of having a chance to properly comfort him felt nice.

Silence ascended between the characters. Both seemingly stuck in their own thoughts. You enjoyed the view of the temple, occasionally glancing in Astarion’s direction. Every time you did, you caught him already staring. It made you look down and almost giggle like a schoolgirl.

Jesus Christ, this man made your stomach flutter with butterflies. It wasn’t fair how pretty and sweet he was when he wasn’t trying to manipulate your character.

Your two options still hovered on the screen. You felt reluctant to leave the conversation, especially since Astarion was still holding your avatar’s hand. Apparently just as hesitant to break the moment.

Once again, you wished there was an option to hug him. After a minute of consideration, you reached for your keyboard. Into the text box you wrote slash hug. The command worked in other games, mmos mostly, it was worth a try. You clicked enter.

Astarion leaned a little forward immediately, one of his silver brows lifted elegantly. “Sorry, what was that, darling?”

Your stomach dropped with disappointment. For a brief second you had been hopeful. You chewed on your nail lightly when the pale elf simply stared into the monitor with a curious look. His crimson eyes seemed near molten with something you could only describe as affection. It made a tingling warmth spread in your chest to be the full focus of that gaze.

You couldn’t leave him hanging like this. A moment later you started typing a question that had been on your mind for a while.

‘Do you miss the sun?’

His lips twitched slightly, though you couldn’t quite determine if it was in amusement or something else. He made sure your gazes met before he replied.

“Haven’t had time yet. Right now, the only presence I’m deprived of is yours.”

This time you felt even your ears flush red. Yeah, he was going to be the death of you one day. No doubts about it.

Over the next couple of weeks, every time you logged on, you were still in Grymforge. Astarion always appeared within minutes, practically handing you a quest in your lap. It was everything from fetching something, to fighting or negotiating. You were surprised at all the content Larian had added to the epilogue.

If you had one complaint, it would be that some of the quests seemed arbitrary and unpolished. As if someone had made them up on the spot and decided to roll with it. You didn’t complain though, having more content and being able to spend more time with Astarion was worth it.

It wasn’t just the quests, there were sweet moments in between. Where Astarion was earnest and snarky. Comments that made you chuckle out loud in amusement. One particular evening, he had bid your character to dance in the great hall. The only light the flickering of torches and the melody they followed was the beating of your heart.

He was sweet and charming, no longer hiding behind masks. He allowed his vulnerability to show on his sleeves in private. He told you about his past life, of what he remembered from before he was turned. Fascinating to hear and see him slowly letting the walls drop as he invited you into his heart in an attempt to heal and soothe the pain of the past.

You hoped the other companions had just as much content added for their romance paths. A thought that made you giddy with curiosity. Hoping they had extended some of the lore of Avernus if you went there with Karlach. Although placing Astarion’s in Grymforge was just a reuse of assets and made it a lot easier to add new content, rather than making something from scratch.

You were also curious to see that Shadowheart and her parents had joined the vampire colony. Though she was evasive with the reason why, you had the odd sense that she was there for your character for whatever reason. The fact that both her parents and the Gur worshipped the moonmaiden, it wasn’t too farfetched that they would become friends.

Gale visited once too, though he spent the entire time looking sad and trying to reassure you of something that went completely over your head. It must have been some lore dump you had missed during the epilogue. Shadowheart also mentioned half handedly that both Lae’zel and Halsin had visited while your character was away as well.

You found it rather sweet how all the companions took care of each other, even after their journey had reached its natural end. It made you happy to see that everyone had made life-long friends and how far they had all grown as a person during the adventure.

The atmosphere in the colony was strange sometimes, they would run past you in the corridor. You had the distinct feeling they were in a hurry to get somewhere. You could also always feel eyes strained in your direction. Astarion would always dismiss it when you asked. Even waving away people who wanted a word with him whenever you were online.

Seemed a little in poor taste, seeing as he was the de-facto leader of the vampire spawns. You were certain he had responsibilities and far more important things to do than following you around. Though you were sure Larian just wanted to show how sweet he was by showering the player character with attention and affection.

Between work and other obligations, you didn’t play as much as you used to. Important deadlines at work and joining a new D&D group ate up most of your free time. You couldn’t really recall how many days it had been since the last time you logged on. A few days, a week? Two at most?

You had become quite customed to the fact that every time you left, your character would end up tucked back in that chamber you had first woken up in. This time, however, Astarion didn’t immediately appear. Usually he did when you started moving around.

Several minutes crawled by, before the pale elf decided to grace you with his presence. Usually, he greeted you with excitement and a charming smile. However, this time he seemed guarded. Something lurked in his crimson eyes and his lips were pressed into a thin line. Both his expression and his body seemed tight and coiled.

During the cutscene he didn’t glance in your character’s direction a single time. Instead, he was fumbling with an armour piece, trying to tie the wrist guard properly. He was currently in full armour, his weapons sheathed at his belt.

You wished you had the option to help him, as his mood seemed to worsen by the second when he wasn’t managing.

‘Is everything alright?’ you decided to ask, wondering slightly if this was an intro to a new quest.

“Yes,” he grunted with a sharp noise, still not looking in your direction. His eyes narrowed down at the string he was trying to tie, his fingers shaking slightly at the effort to not just rip them out.

‘Clearly,’ you imagined your character lifted an eyebrow at his tone. ‘Is there anything I can to do help?’

Astarion dropped his arm, clearly giving up on his endeavour at the moment. His eyes narrowed as something flashed like steel in his eyes. “The only thing you have been good for lately is sleeping,” he snarled, “so why don’t you go back to doing that.”

You flinched slightly at harshness of his words, not liking the acidy in his voice. You wondered exactly what you had done to deserve this cutscene. Had there been an event you had accidentally done wrongly? Like the one time you hadn’t killed the Orthon and Astarion broke up with you on the spot. You tried to recall the last few quests the pale elf had sent you out on. But it’s been nearly two weeks, and you couldn’t quite remember all the details.

‘Did I do something?’ you decided to ask, hoping the game would allow it and cast some light on the situation so you could avoid it for your next run.

“It’s what you are not doing that’s the fucking problem,” his words were sharp and accentuated with the flash of his fangs. The crimson of his eyes seemed to almost blaze with what you could only describe as resentment and hurt.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Confused as to what was happening yet still felt like a child who was being berated by a parent.

‘I don’t understand,’ you typed after a moment of silence. If you had been speaking out loud, you were certain your voice would be thin.

“Of course you don’t,” he grunted, the muscle of his jaw worked hard as he clenched his teeth. His fingers twitching and his eyes kept darting between your character and the door. His restless manner suggested a desire to pace, as if he sought to alleviate the agitation he felt. It was clear from his body language that there was something that troubled him.

He spoke more to himself than to you, seemingly oblivious to how your character might respond. “It’s like looking into the mirror of my past self.  To have a cruel master that controls you without as much as a thought given to your wants, your desires, your very soul. You can’t oppose or protest, least of all fight. Simply allow them to utilize you, regardless of your own needs and want. It’s all so pointlessly heartbreaking watching you continue to exist in this pitiful state.”

You weren’t quite sure why his words made your chest clench painfully and steal your breath. As if you felt guilty over something that wasn’t your fault. Not knowing what else to do or how to react to this strange conversation that was making no sense to you, you decided to prompt the one thing that always seemed to work when you were stuck.

‘Current quest update,’ you typed, hoping it would help shine some light on the conversation.

The moment you clicked enter, Astarion went completely rigid. Tension rippled across his body where he was keeping himself completely still. A dark shadow passed over his features. Something flashed in his crimson eyes too fast to comprehend, but his expression turned hard and sharp. His nostrils flared and his lip pressed so hard together they turned white.

“I have come to a startling realization,” his voice a low growl, his fangs flashing like a wolf baring its teeth, “that the man of my dreams, the hope of him, is my own worst enemy. This is a hunger crueller than bloodlust.”

Your stomach dropped at the realization of where this was going. Though the words were somewhat the same as when the Ascendant spoke them, they were directed inwards this time.

“I tried; I really did try to accept my lot in life. I told myself that I could do this, that I wouldn’t let the time drag on while I waited for you to return to me. But I can't anymore, my dear, I'm far too selfish. I was never made to love and to care for things. My life is passing me by as I wait for you. This isn't worth it anymore.”  Astarion's voice was tinged with resentment and hurt, his every word dripping with bitterness. “Either fight to stay here with me, or don't bother coming back at all.”

He had spat the words at you. Throwing them like daggers that pierced your heart. They hung in the air for a moment. Echoing across the small chamber with a feeling of finality. You had somehow managed to trigger a breakup scene, one that twisted your heart with confusion and guilt. You didn’t understand why this was happening.

The ultimatum made no sense to you. But it was clear it seemed he didn’t want you in his life anymore. Your eyes stung with unbidden tears, and you quickly wiped them to hide it, as if he could see you through the monitor. A ridiculous thought, but you felt foolish for crying over a fictional character dumping you.

He left the room without another word or another glance. Didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. Your fingers had simply frozen on your keyboard. Trembling too much in shock to figure out what you would even write in response. Just like that, it was over. Astarion always had the most brutal lines. The ones that cut the deepest. Probably because he had a tendency to lash out when he was hurt or angry.

You dug your fingernails into the soft flesh of your palm, needing the slight pain to ground you. There was no point in continuing this save now. You were sure it would cut to the epilogue party at any moment. A scene which you were no longer interested in seeing. You would just have to try again another time, to make sure you didn’t make the same mistake.

Removing your headphones, you pushed the chair away and hunkered down under the desk. You reached for the plug and pulled it. Your room suddenly felt deafening without the humming of your computer. You glanced up at the screen to make sure that it was black.

Satisfied that it had worked, you rose to your feet, picked up your cat to soothe your bruised heart and left the room.

Chapter Text

Astarion waited two whole days for Tav to come back. After the werewolves, he had promised he would.... but he hadn’t. The bitterness tasted like bile in the back of his throat, like he had eaten from a particularly nasty rat.

Astarion wasn’t sure if he was more disappointed or angry. Furious at himself for hoping and for taking his lover on his word. Why was it, that as soon as you want something, it slips out of reach.

He knew he shouldn’t have kissed him and climb into his lap. He had been desperate to find a way to keep Tav from fading away. From leaving him again. Astarion had simply reset to factory settings by trying to use his body to get what he wanted. Yet once again, his lover saw straight through his attempt. It sometimes scared him, knowing that he could read him like an open book… yet it felt good to be seen for who he was.

Tav had indicated he needed a purpose. A reason to stay, and Astarion was determined to help him find one. It was the least he owed his lover, after everything he had done for them. Although it fucking sucked knowing that he wasn’t enough of one. Though he couldn’t blame him entirely, knowing he had a cruel puppetmaster that pulled on his strings.

The logistics of tracking down the other spawns and convincing them to join him was a nightmare and a half. Though thankfully Shadowheart was a big help on the subject. She was the one who had suggested the abandoned Sharran temple in the underdark. One of the first things she had done as they arrived there to scout the area, was to systematically remove every evidence of Shar worship, much to his amusement. He had even helped.

Shadowheart had also suggested inviting the Gur to the colony. Something Astarion had been wholeheartedly against, yet he couldn’t dispute her reasoning. They wanted a safe haven for the children and to keep an eye on the vampire spawns. Keep your friends close and your friends closer and all that spiel.

He probably wouldn’t have agreed to the alliance, if it wasn’t for Tav. He was doing everything he could for him, after all. To give him a purpose. What better life than the leader of thousands of people? Of course, Astarion had become the de facto leader of the vampires and Ulma over the Gur. With the annoying Gandrel as her lieutenant.

He doubted it if the Gur would even have considered the proposal if not for Tav. Someone both sides respected. He had proven himself a capable individual many times over. They trusted him over Astarion.

Naturally, the notion was returned.

Now he just needed to wait for Tav to wake up and all would be well.

Except the idiot rejected the proposal. Throwing away all that responsibility and power in order to be considered an equal. As if what Astarion had done for him meant nothing. He had made a deal with a group of people he had hated for two centuries for being responsible for him falling into Cazador’s claws. He had done all that, for his lover.

He had been offended at first, but then Tav said all the right things and made him flustered and chest feel warm rather than irate. He always knew what to say to any situation. His charisma unparallelled. Astarion had seen him convince monsters and undead to kill themselves. He truly had a rare orate ability, as if gifted by the gods themselves.

Though, in hindsight. Maybe he had. Being the puppet to a being beyond reality must come with some perks.

Astarion had hoped, prayed even, that this would be enough to make Tav stay. That whatever creature he was a plaything to would allow him to remain and be the de facto leader of this little colony of theirs. The vampire made sure he was busy, even making things up on the spot just to make sure. Sometimes when his lover returned for a few days in a row, he let himself be hopeful that this time, this time he wouldn’t disappear again.

And then suddenly he wouldn’t wake for a few days and Astarion was forced to swallow his disappointment and try even harder. It was getting so tiring, but he refused to let the other see it. Only reluctantly admitting it to Shadowheart in the early hours of the day.

All he did, night in and out, was wait for Tav. He was starting to get restless, feeling trapped. Never daring to leave just in case his lover woke. It all felt so ridiculous and hopeless. Nothing he ever did was good enough, apparently.

Gale’s research had turned up nothing, not even his ex-lover, Mystra, had been any help either. Withers only suggested to take Tav off their hands. What was the point of being the hero that saved the world, if the world couldn’t save him? It filled Astarion with bitterness, knowing that the gods of this world didn’t care one lick about the mortal that had saved them.

It made him feel powerless and small, knowing that there was nothing he could do. Tav had fought gods and their chosen and prevailed through optimism alone, yet his companions could do nothing to help him when it mattered.

The first few weeks of moving in to the Sharran temple had been filled with exploration and dusting out monster filled chambers. Everyone had been optimistic about the prospect of getting the forge up and running, but that’s where the first snag happened. Someone had been idiotic enough to brag about their hiding spot. Not long after, the first raids had attacked the temple.

Thankfully, having the population be half night creatures and half daywalkers, the lookout was manned at every hour of the day. The only way in and out was through the river. However, the duergar and drows both really wanted the mythical forge for themselves.

Despite having supernatural speed and strength on their sides, most of the vampire spawns weren’t fighters. Some had spent two centuries locked in a cage. Ironic how they had to rely on the Gur for protection and to teach the vampires how to properly fight. It was the first time Astarion had to admit he was grateful for their presence. Things would have been more dire otherwise.

He had discussed with Shadowheart whether to tell Tav the truth, that the colony wasn’t as stable as he tried to portray. But in the end, they had agreed that it might be detriment to what they were trying to achieve. A fifty-fifty chance his puppetmaster wouldn’t let him return if there were unstable lodging. It felt strange keeping such a secret from his lover, but he would come clean once the problem was resolved – or if Tav stayed for longer than a few days.

It had been nearly two weeks since he had seen him. Two weeks of Astarion climbing the walls with restlessness. Instead of working, he had stared at the crystal around his neck that matched Tav’s – a magic item that Gale had gifted them that would notify him immediately if the other man started moving.

Occasionally he would gaslight himself into thinking the magic was faulty and go check on him… just to find Tav motionless on the bed. It was disheartening and distracting. Other than the one time he had been gone for a month and a half, Tav usually showed signs of life every few days. But too inconsistent to predict exactly when he would.

He could occasionally hear the whispers of the others in the corridors. He had once overheard Petras calling Tav a useless blood bag. Lamenting while he snickered that he too wished he had a personal mindless mortal to feed from. Astarion had seen red in that moment, hit him hard enough that he prayed he had knocked one of his stupid brother’s fangs loose.

Shadowheart had intervened in the subsequent fight. Trying to calm him down. The others didn’t understand, but Astarion couldn’t help but admit that Petras wasn’t entirely wrong. Sometimes it felt as if he was playing house with a doll.

The cleric had called them both idiots and taken over Tav babysitting duty for the evening, just so that Astarion could cool off for some fresh air.

It all came to ahead when it was reported that a hunting party lead by Dalyria had been captured by the duergar. Astarion couldn’t sit still, knowing his sibling was in danger. He was a capable fighter, yet he had practically benched himself. With Tav incapacitated, it was up to him to keep everyone safe.

This time, he decided to lead the rescuing party himself. He was tired of staying behind and not doing anything. The temple, despite being massive, was starting to feel cramped and stale. He was itching for a fight, looking forward to some bloodshed after weeks of silence.

He was halfway dressed when the necklace buzzed. It made him freeze in surprise, suddenly being tugged in two directions. Go with the party and rescue his sibling and the others, or go see Tav for the first time in two weeks. Responsibilities as a leader versus his heart.

He felt swayed with indecisiveness. Aurelia and Gandrel were waiting for him, the boat already on the water. He couldn’t afford delaying even a minute, as it would mean Dalyria and the others would be in captivity for longer. They could be killed– or worse, be tortured for information. To make matters worse, he was pretty certain Sebastian had been with her.

He felt responsible for the spawn, having been the one to lure him back to Cazador himself. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about that little titbit.

Yet, even knowing all that, he still turned and went to see Tav. Five minutes, he had told himself. He could afford five minute to see his lover. He knew he was irritable as he tried to fasten his armour properly, dismissing the other man’s question. Anxiety and guilt coursed through him, knowing that the others were waiting for him.

He was being selfish, and he knew it. And Astarion had always been a selfish man. He was frustrated at himself, and at the situation. He couldn’t help being angry and bitter at everything.

The harder he tried to hold on, the further Tav drifted away. He was right there, yet, at the same time, too far away for Astarion to ever hope to reach. He hated the reminder, when the illusion broke, and his lover said strange things like he was more artificial than real.

It had been four months of no progress. Of not getting anywhere with Tav and his problem. Time was slowly running out yet he had nothing to show for it. It was unfair, that Astarion had been left behind to deal with this mess on his own.

His slips pressed into a thin line. In that moment, Astarion resented him. Tav was supposed to be there with him, fighting for their future. Not be a liability in bed that could cost people their lives. He knew he had a temper and in that moment he lashed out. Poured out his mind at the unfairness of everything.

He spoke harsh words without thinking and left. Ran to the harbour to catch up with Gandrel and Aurelia and the rest and set out. He only allowed himself to breathe once they had rescued their lost members. Thankfully none of them were worse for wear.

It was only on the trip back that the previous argument suddenly dawned on him. His harsh words and ultimatum. It took him more courage he would like to admit opening the door to Tav’s room, having loitered outside the chamber for several minutes. Part of him was afraid to face him again. Part of him wanted to swallow his pride and beg for forgiveness. None of this was his lover’s fault.

It was fate and whatever puppetmaster that still controlled his strings. It would be hypocritical of Astarion to resent him for not fighting harder against whoever controlled him. He had himself given up long before they ever met.

Opening the door, he found Tav standing exactly where he had left him. Eyes vacant and idling. He tried not to wince at the sight, his stomach churning with disappointment. Part of him had wished he had waited.

He carefully led the man back to bed and tucked him in. Then he sat on the bed staring down at him with a guilty expression.

“I didn’t mean it,” he murmured, reaching out to stroke a few locks of hair from his forehead. “Come back so I can apologise, alright? I’ll only ever admit fault to you.”

He knew he wouldn’t get a response when the other man was like this, yet he still waited a breath. He didn’t know why, but ever since the harbour, Tav always took his time to speak. As if he needed a beat to process words.

“I was angry at the wrong thing,” he admitted in the silence between them. Regret filling his chest. If only he could control his temper better. It was just easier to lash out when he was hurt, just so everyone else would feel as equally as shitty.

Not giving a damn about his dirty clothes or the splatter of dried blood on his armour, he climbed into the bed with him. Draped himself around his lover as if he could shield him from the world. He pressed his nose into his neck, inhaling deeply to soothe his fear. Tav was still here.

The scent of the other man enveloped him, and he felt himself relaxing slightly. The warmth of his body and the soft thumping of his heart a reminder that he was still here. That there was still time.

Hunger rose in Astarion at the intimacy, but he quickly swallowed it down. His fangs ached with the desire to sink into the warm and inviting flesh, his tongue yearned for the taste of his lover’s blood. No matter how many thinking creatures he had tasted since, there was always something special about Tav. It was more intoxicating than the rest, it tasted like home and warmth and comfort. Whenever he had his lips clamped around his pulse, it was a reassurance that he was still here. Alive and well. Each beat of his heart a comfort. Like a melody of love.

No matter how much he yearned to, he wouldn’t bite. Not without permission. Tav wasn’t capable of consenting and so Astarion would be obedient and wait. If they didn’t have trust, they would have nothing.

“Being co-leader with the Gur is so hard,” he complained against the warm skin, his embrace tightening slightly. “I don’t know how you stomached being the leader for an unruly group of miscreants. Maybe I should just take you and run, my dear. Though they would run around like headless chickens without us.”

An increasingly tempting thought. Being the boss wasn’t as fun as he had thought. Not when you had to treat everyone like equals and care for your charges, unlike Cazador who treated everyone beneath him. It was too much responsibility, as proven today. It had been easier to follow Tav and still feel as if his opinions were validated than being the one making all the decisions. Co-leading sounded far more preferable, in his opinion. Having someone he trusted and love to rely on.

“Please,” he pleaded with a soft voice, “I don’t want to this alone.”

Astarion wasn’t sure how long he stayed there. Some nights he would tell Tav about his day. He told him about what had happened, hoping against everything that a part of him was still conscious and could hear him. Foolish perhaps, but he refused to give up hope.

Though, sooner or later his duties and responsibilities came knocking on the door. With a complaint on his lip, he rose from the bed and left, but not without a second glance back. His fingers playing with the charm around his necklace, silently praying it would activate soon.

The waiting quickly became unbearable. He waited day in and day out, hoping Tav would just wake up. Astarion knew he shouldn’t have yelled, shouldn’t have said such harsh words when he hadn’t meant them. Shouldn’t have given him an ultimatum. But it sucked not being able to take his words back. He had just been frustrated and afraid. For his siblings, for the situation.

A month passed, and no traces of Tav. Time was quickly seeping through his fingers, like sand in an hourglass, and he was powerless to slow the trickling of the grains. It was only a few weeks off the six-month mark. For that blasted party, yet as time kept passing, the thought of the party turned from dread to hope. He knew, for certain, that his lover would waken for that.

It would be a chance for redemption, of asking for forgiveness and one last attempt to convince him why he belonged here. With him. Find clues as to his master and how to cut the strings once and for all.

Shadowheart helped him with preparation, finding relics that could be of help. Anything, even if it was a last ditch effort. They’d had six months to prepare for this, after all.

Astarion still fed Tav every day, took him on short walks, leading him as if he was a zombie. Something Shadowheart had mentioned, that muscles deteriorated if not in use. It was a depressing task, having turned into a caretaker. He could only hope the effort he put in would be rewarded at the end. Part of him mocked himself for being so mushy and in love that he didn’t entirely hate it. He loved Tav enough to try overcoming this obstacle.

After two months, he would have given everything to go back to what it had been like before. When he only saw him sporadically. He felt foolish and ashamed for complaining. Tav was right there… yet all the elf felt was abandoned and alone.

The day of the party came. Astarion dressed Tav in his best attire and led him to the clearing. All their companions were here, everyone who had loved and cared for their fearless leader. People who were loyal to him and him alone. Once, the vampire had been envious of how easy Tav had earned their loyalty, but he knew precisely how charismatic and earnest he was.

Astarion had fallen even harder than the rest.

They waited, half the evening, for Tav’s vacate eyes to fill with life. For intelligence to glint and a smile to curl on his lip. Last time Astarion had seen him, he had been confused and hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to see him smile, if only for one last time.

Nothing happened. He didn’t smile or acknowledge anyone. Not even for a moment did he show any signs of life. He simply stood there, empty and void of personality. This wasn’t a party, it was a wake, Astarion realized with unease. His heart filled with ice and pain and loneliness.

Everything broke like a dam in his chest. The anguish knotting in his chest. It wasn’t fair. He had done everything right, tried so hard to be good. What was the point of being nice and kind if you lost everything in the end? Where was his happily ever after, where was Tav’s?

Perhaps Astarion didn’t deserve one after everything he had done, but dammit it all to the hells, Tav deserved everything and more. He had always been infuriatingly good and kind, adopting orphans from the streets. He had given the world everything and more. Where was his just reward?

Astarion was tempted to shake him, swallow his pride and get on his knees and beg. Hoping that whatever cruel being that even the gods feared was listening and grant him this small boon. To just see Tav once more.

He couldn’t move. He felt rooted to the spot in his despair, and the unfairness of it all. He felt numb and lost. Like he had been untattered from shore and he was drowning in a pitch-black ocean. No stars or moon or any light to guide his way.

Karlach and Wyll appeared in a portal halfway through the evening. She had been cheerful and all smile as she greeted everyone. Though one glance across the crowd she noted the gloom. Not even the bard Wither had invited were playing any music anymore.

“Why so glum?” she inquired, a frown on her lips. The scent of sulphur and blood clung to her like a second skin. The glow of her chest had dimmed, indicating that she was no longer burning up.

A quick wave in the direction of Tav was the only reply she received, Gale looking uneasy as if he didn’t know how to break the news, though the tiefling immediately approached.

“Hello, soldier. It’s been a while,” she grinned in greeting, already pulling Tav into a one-sided hug. Only to realize with a frown that he wasn’t reciprocating. She let go of him and studied his face with a pensive expression. “Oh hells. We are back to this, are we?”

Astarion finally shook off his stupor where he had been sulking, cradling his heartbreak. “What do you mean? You promised he would come back,” he grunted with bitterness dripping in his tone. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but he needed someone to blame in that moment.

She glanced in his direction, the pity shining in her golden eyes made his chest tighten with dismay. He took a large gulp of wine in an attempt to curb his anger. Last time he had lashed out on the wrong person, he had seemingly lost them forever.

“At the start, the harbour was the last time I saw Tav. Barely time to say our goodbyes and then they were gone. Like someone had just removed their souls from their bodies,” she explained, a little reluctantly. Her eyes shifted as she looked at the man in question with a wistful expression. “It’s only been the last few times actually, that they returned for the party. One last hurrah, I’d assume.”

“I think it’s time you explained yourself,” Shadowheart glanced at the pale elf with a pitying look, she had been his rock the last few months. He was glad she asked, not sure if he could find his voice to do so. “Astarion mentioned you said something about this happening before?”

Karlach scratched her neck, her expression a little sheepish. “This is going to sound mental, but we have been here before. I’ve lost count of how many times, in fact. Every time I die, be it during the journey or in Avernus or of old age. I wake up there in forest. Back where everything started.”

“Time travel?” Gale’s eyes burned with academic curiosity, “meddling with such magic can be detriment to both history and yourself. Do you remember who cast it?”

She shrugged, “I have no clue how or who did it. Or why for that matter. Besides, I wouldn’t call it time travel. It’s the same forest, same people, but Tav is different.”

“Different? Different how?” someone asked, though Astarion was only half paying attention to the conversation. His stomach churned painfully.

He closed his eyes and turned away. Forcing himself to blink away the tears that were stinging his eyes. He had wanted to believe Karlach had the answers, that somehow she would reassure him that everything would be alright. But deep down, he knew there was no way of fixing this. He had screwed up badly. For everyone. He had always thought his one worst mistake in life had been agreeing to becoming a vampire spawn under Cazador, yet know he had a new regret to add to the list of his ever-growing failures.

“Sometimes Tav is a woman other times a man. I’ve seen them be a half-orc, and a tiefling and a drow. The first time he was a dragonborn, and he loved me. He promised to go to Avernus with me. Yet his mind was gone the moment we stepped through that blasted portal. I thought something happened, I tried to keep him safe running from devils and fiends alike. I was convinced a demon and stolen his mind, tried everything I could to save him. But I failed, and we both died,” her voice was low as she explained, heavy with sorrow and a wistful expression. “Just to find myself back to start.”

She waited a tick, to see if anyone had a question, but a hushed tension had fallen over the crowd. “I stayed put waiting for him, but it was a different Tav that found me. A half-elf that time. I refused to accept it, I looked everywhere for my dragonborn, but he was nowhere to be found. As if he had never existed. This Tav did things differently than he had. Neither did she love me. Once we got to the harbour after the fight, she too became lost.”

“You are re-living the same life, same scenario but with different versions of Tav?” Gale frowned at her words, his eyes glazed over with thought as if trying to make sense of it all. “That seems impossible.”

“But true,” her smile was tight, filled with bitterness, “some of the Tavs are cruel. I have even met Bhaalspawn versions of them. I don’t tend to hang around on those runs. They are too painful.”

“And you never tried to save him?” Astarion finally spoke up, his tone harsh with anger. He balled his fingers, digging the sharp nails into his palms, “you never thought to warn us so that we should help him?”

“Of course I tried,” Karlach gritted back, her eyes flickering indignantly at the accusations, “every time, in so many different ways, yet nothing ever works. Not once have I been able to rescue any of them. So many different versions of you have tried to help me with no effect.”

Her words left the companions with a feeling of defeat. The hope having been punctured like a balloon and left them with only anguish.

“If I had chosen to complete the profane rite of ascension, could I have saved him?” Astarion asked with a low voice. It was a bitter thought that occurred to him more than once, wondering if he would have the power to actually do something. Though it was not something he had ever dared to say out loud. At this point, he would have done anything for just the chance to try.

“No,” she admitted, a small smile on her lips and pity shining in her eyes, “that never worked either. Trust me, you tried. Gale too was powerless when he ascended to godhood. There is no power in this world strong enough to meddle with the gods of gods.”

“Then what was the fucking point of it all,” he snarled in response, “let the world end for all I care, it would be preferable to this heartache. Tell me what I am supposed to do with this, Karlach,” he waved a hand in Tav’s direction. Focusing on his anger rather than his despair in this moment. It was far easier to be furious than heartbroken.

“Love them,” she said with a soft and compassionate tone. He had the sudden realization that the tiefling must have had this discussion over and over again. “Cherish them while they are here.”

“That’s not fair,” he muttered, his words dropping with bitterness.

“No. It isn’t,” she agreed and placed a hand on his shoulder. The warmth of her touch was annoyingly comforting. “But it’s what we get. I embraced the pain a long time ago because it was worth every moment.”

He swallowed his anger and resentment. It wasn’t her fault she was the messenger of bad news. He always knew the party would be the end, one way or the other. He just hadn’t realized that there was only one possible ending. That none of them had ever had any choice or power to influence it.

There was nothing else he could do, but continue living with the bitter knowledge that he had loved and lost the only person who had ever mattered to him. That he had ever mattered to.

He drowned out the rest of the conversation. The others had questions and Karlach patiently answered each. He didn’t care, it was irrelevant if it meant there was no way of saving Tav. This wasn’t defeat. They hadn’t lost, because there had never been a chance from the start.

Tav had saved everyone. The world. Astarion wondered if Tav had known that he was a doomed man from the start. He had burned so brilliantly, only to be snuffed out the moment he had completed his purpose. It was unfair. Astarion could complain but the cosmos would be deaf to his protests.

Sooner than any of them would have liked, Withers approached the group. With a resonant compassion he had said the three words Astarion had dreaded for the past half a year.

“It is time.”

“Where are you taking him?” Shadowheart asked curiously.

“That is not information I can share,” Withers replied, though Astarion had the distinct feeling that it was because he thought it best not to.

It wasn’t Tav anymore, was it? Just an empty husk of his lover because Astarion had chased him away in a moment of weakness. It hadn’t been Tav for weeks now, not really. The pale elf had simply been clinging to him in a hopeless attempt to change a fate that was predetermined since the moment they met.

He watched in numb silence as the others said their goodbyes. Dreading when it was his turn. Part of him wanted to flee from the situation. Avoid it altogether. Saying the words would be too final. If he just left, he could pretend Tav was still out there somewhere. Alive and well and thriving.

But he knew he couldn’t gaslight himself into thinking otherwise. He had been freed from his master, and yet he was powerless to acknowledged that his lover had never had the chance to fight against his own. Astarion had always thought the same, that he could do nothing to fight Cazador, but Tav had proven to him otherwise. That he could be the master of his own destiny.

If only he could have showed Tav that he had the strength and ability too.

Once everyone had said their goodbyes, they walked to the long tables to consume their weight in alcohol. Astarion was grateful for the privacy, that they were kind enough to give him this. He could feel the pity in their eyes, like a burning weight on his shoulders.

Ignoring it, he approached Tav and pulled him into a tight hug. For a moment he said nothing, simply swallowing down the urge to cry. Tears glistened in his eyes, but this wasn’t the time. He could wallow in his grief and sorrow later Holding him, he could still feel the warmth of his body and the soft hum of his heartbeats that had become so familiar.

No words were enough to truly portray his feelings. What was the point anyway? Tav wasn’t here, he was hugging a corpse that simply hadn’t realized it was dead yet. He swallowed down the bitterness and simply tightened his grasp.

“Thank you,” the words started to spill from his lips. All the secrets and emotions he had locked in his heart. Even if Tav couldn’t hear them, he needed to speak his mind this one last time. “I'd been nothing without your help. You saved me in more ways than one. You freed me, but you also gave me hope. Most importantly you taught me how to love. You've taken a man who hated himself and given him something to live for. You gave me you. The truth is, you always tempted me far more than I ever tempted you.”

For a breath he waited, hoping desperately for a response he knew wouldn’t come. He knew it was foolish yet the disappointment still flooded him when the only reply was an owl hooting in the distance.

“I failed you. I couldn’t save you and then in a moment of weakness, I childishly chased you away. I am so sorry. I stole everyone’s chance at a proper farewell,” he muttered bitterly under his breath. His arms trembled slightly at the self-hatred in that moment. He didn’t deserve this embrace, didn’t deserve the chance to ask for forgiveness. Yet he had so many more words he needed to say before it was too late.

He pulled back slightly and cupped Tav’s face between the palm of his hands. His gaze searched his face, part of him searching for a sign of life, the other to memorize his features for the rest of his days.

“I wanted a future with you. I dared hope for something so foolishly,” tears swelled in his eyes at the admission. And when he smiled he could feel the wetness drip on his lip. “The world is never kind nor fair. I don’t know if you can hear any of this, but I need you know that you have changed me the way opening a window changes a dark room. I wish I had told you all of this before it was too late. I think this is a goodbye, my love. The end of our journey.”

Astarion pressed their lips together into one tender kiss. He could taste his own tears, turning the whole scene bittersweet.

“A goodbye with this face and this version of me. If Karlach is correct and this cycle begins again, then I’ll pray to all the gods and fiends that will listen, that you will choose to love me once more because I know I will always fall for you regardless of what form you take. You were worth every moment, darling. Even the heartbreak.”

He clung to him as long as he could, yet he knew nothing would feel long enough. These six months had disappeared in a second. He was only thankful that Withers didn’t try to rush them.

“I’ll be here when you are ready. I’ll always be here, my love,” he pressed another kiss on Tav’s lips before he let go for the last time.

It broke his heart. Shattered it into tiny pieces, and he turned away and closed his eyes. He couldn’t watch them leave. The anguish and sorrow knotted tightly in his chest. He knew he didn’t need to breathe but he still gasped for air as a silent sob got stuck in his chest cavity.

His eyes suddenly snapped open with a realization. He had said everything, except the one thing that truly mattered. He turned around, but the words died on his lip when the only thing that met him was empty air. Tav and Withers were long gone.

Astarion hadn’t had the chance to tell him he loved him. He had only properly said the words one time – that unforgettable night at the graveyard, when they put Cazador in the ground. If only he had been better at expression his emotions before it was too late. Faking them proved easier than actually feeling them.

He didn’t have the courage nor the strength to whisper ‘I love you’ into the silent night, knowing that they wouldn’t reach Tav. That the person who mattered the most wasn’t there to hear them. It would hurt far too much.

For a long while, he didn’t move from the spot. He didn’t have the energy. What was he supposed to do now? He was alone again. How could he have the strength to continue on from this? It felt as if the world had dimmed and part of the beauty of life had vanished.

Tav would want him to continue on, but it was a daunting task. He could return to the underdark and help the other spawns. Deep down, he didn’t know if he wanted to.

Astarion wiped his tears and rejoined the others. He sat at the end of the table, drowning his sorrow in a bottle. The conversation between his companion sounded more like a eulogy fit for a wake. They were reminiscing about the journey. Of everything Tav had done for them.

It felt reassuring that he wasn’t the only one crying and mourning the loss of their friend.

At the end of the evening, a few bottles in, he turned to Karlach. His words left his mouth slurred and soft, knowing he meant every syllable.

“I wasted so much time I could have spent loving him because I was afraid. Can you do me a favour, Karlach? When you go back to the beginning, can you remind me to love?”

Her expression softened and she clapped his shoulder. “Of course, my friend.”

He returned the smile; it was a brittle and fragile thing. Then he placed the bottle to his lips again and took a big swig in the hopeless attempt of drowning his sorrow. He knew he would never forget Tav and everything he had done for them. In a thousand years when Astarion had all but forgotten how to love yet again, he would flit back into his heart and he would weep, wondering what happened to his mad love.

The first thing that met Karlach when she opened her eyes were the chirping of birds and the scent of moss. She groaned as she sat up, clutching her head slightly. She would never get used to the familiar squirming of the tadpole, no matter how many times she relived it.

Grabbing her axe, she rose to her feet. She needed to get moving before the fake paladins of Tyr found her. She just needed to reach the river and then Tav would find her. Like they always did. She wondered what they would be like this time. If they would be kind or cruel. Sometimes they killed her on sight and she would wake up right back here.

Whenever Tav destroyed the grove, she and Wyll would leave. Though they never lasted long before turning into mindflayers. She would rather start from scratch than follow a pure evil Tav.

The last life had been a peculiar one. According to Shadowheart and the others, Tav had lasted longer than usual. Perhaps this was a sign that there was hope that one day they would actually stay. Astarion had refused to comment on what had happened, so Karlach had no way of replicating whatever had happened that life. Though she had the distinct feeling he had been hiding something.

It didn’t matter. A new life, a new chance. Karlach had already managed to change the ending once already, or so she would like to think. Deep down, she had no clue what she had done different for the party scene to appear. She had tried to ask Withers about it, but it seemed the old god had no memory of the past lives. It was just her on this mission, however daunting it felt.

Sometimes she wished she didn’t remember, envying the others, other times she felt lucky. That at least one of them kept all the memories of their journeys together. Remembered all the versions of Tav. She cherished every life.

Returning to the river, she planted her axe in the ground and sat down. Sometimes she had to wait a while – once or twice Tav hadn’t come for her – and she spent the time reminiscing. She wondered what would meet her this time. She hoped they would be kind, she liked that version best. The lives were Tav was a bhaalspawn were the worst ones. Simply because her dear friend would suffer so much.

Even after all this time, she missed her first life. With the dragonborn. He had been so kind and sweet and perfect. Karlach had fallen so hard that she couldn’t help but love every single iteration that came after. Sometimes she swore she could see a portion of him in the reflection of Tav’s eyes. As if he was still in there, somewhere, that just a little bit remained.

She wondered if Tav could remember their past lives, but she shook the thought away immediately. Surely if they did, they would rage against the world and try to throw away the shackles of fate, instead of following the same story. She had once tried to warn them, yet it seemed none of the words clicked. As if their puppet master wouldn’t allow them to know the truth.

She gave up the attempt, though sometimes she did try to hint at it. That there something else there, controlling Tav’s actions.

Her mulling was interrupted by the sound of familiar voices drifting towards her. With a soft grunt, she grabbed her axe and rose to her feet in anticipation. This moment always filled her with bubbling nervousness. If Tav would allow her to join them or if she would be slain.

If Wyll was with them, then it was always a fifty-fifty chance. Though she couldn’t quite pick up on the sound of his voice. She held her breath as they came closer, eyes focusing on the spot she knew they would arrive from. They always did.

Then, there they were. Her friends and companions. People she had known and loved for lifetimes after lifetimes.  It had been an honour to spend them with them. They were young again – although Astarion never aged, for obvious reasons. This time, only Astarion and Shadowheart was accompanying Tav. A sight that made Karlach smile, because she knew what that meant. That they would go and kill those bastard paladins of Zariel immediately.

She focused her attention on their fearless leader. Tav was a woman this time, a drow with midnight blue skin and moonlight in her hair. The eyes reddened by Lolth made the tiefling a little nervous, she hoped this wouldn’t mean that Tav was evil this time.

She couldn’t really tell by a quick glance over the party, who Tav was trying to romance this time. She would be honoured of course, she loved every iteration of them. But she had a promise to keep this time.

The tension of her shoulders relaxed when they believed her words and invited her to the pary. They killed the paladins and dealt with the consequences of Wyll going against Mizora’s orders. Karlach wondered slightly what happened in the lifetimes the warlock did kill her, though she shook the thought away. No point contemplating things she would never know the answer to. Seeing as she would be dead and gone of course, the cycle having started anew.

There was a couple of days later that she joined Astarion around the fire. Everyone else had went to bed. The pale elf seemed pensive, arms crossed and he had a look that was clear indication of his growing hunger. The truth about him hadn’t been revealed yet.

He glanced towards her when she joined him, a short nod and the usual flattery on his tongue in greeting.

It made her smile, he never changed. Though he had always been more relaxed around her than the others at the start. Seeing as she was ‘the untouchable Karlach’. Not someone he could seduce.

“Do you remember that cat you had?” she said conversationally, not looking at him and instead staring at the stars blinking above them.

She sensed more than saw him tense in the corner of her eyes. His gaze sharpened with suspicion, and he kept himself carefully still.

“I assure you I have no idea what you are speaking of, dear,” he replied after a moment, his smile too pretty and too perfect to be sincere. “I have never owned a cat.”

“Castor.”

At the name he seemed to have gone completely pale. His eyes searching her face with a hint of confusion and fear. She couldn’t see it, but she knew he had drawn a dagger.

“How do you know that name,” his tone was harsh with hostility to mask the panic she was sure was hovering at the surface, “all who ever knew about this are –“

“Dead,” she finished, her lips curling a little upwards in humour, “I know.”

For a long moment he said nothing. His gaze flickering between the forest and her, as if he was considering fleeing. His expression was drawn and he somehow looked paler than usual. Then he dropped his shoulders with an air of defeat.

“Did he send you?” he asked with a thin voice, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Cazador didn’t send me,” she was quick to reassure him, her expression softening with compassion. Of course, that’s where his thoughts would have run. She was slightly amused by the fact he had given up so quickly. As if he didn’t believe he had any chance of fleeing from her. He hadn’t spent enough time with Tav to have the confidence yet, Karlach mused.

“A friend did. With a message,” she added.

Astarion glanced back up at her with a frown marring his lip. “I don’t have friends,” he grunted, “at least none that know about Castor. Where precisely did you hear that name?”

She looked back towards the twinkling stars, giving him the illusion of nonchalant. Though she was still a little uncertain if he wouldn’t just try to stab her. The other Astarion had warned her it was a chance, something she had decided to risk in order to keep her promise.

“Castor was the cat you had before you died. A stray that took ages to warm up to you, but once he did it was the best companion you had. I know Cazador fed you your own pet when you first woke up as a spawn. It was your very first meal as a vampire. He is a cruel bastard and I promise you I’ll rip him apart with my bare hands if I ever see him.”

For a few moments, he said nothing. She didn’t try to even attempt to read the emotions that flashed across his eyes. Starting with disbelief, she was sure. He sat perfectly still next to her, probably wondering how she knew a secret that he had never told anyone, on top of the fact she just casually revealed she knew he was a vampire. The only other person who knew about this titbit was his master.

“I will give you the benefit of doubt, Cazador wouldn’t allow any of his thralls to speak badly about him, but,” he hesitated for a second, “that doesn’t explain how you know any of this.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you,” she hummed with a hint of amusement, “but everything will make sense in the future. I promise.”

Astarion grunted slightly, suspicion still glowing in his crimson eyes. The flickering of the bonfire made the silver in his hair glitter slightly. “Fine. Keep your secrets. What kind of missive does a friend of yours have for little old me?”

The easy acquiesce made her smile. It tugged on her lips with a degree of humour. Astarion had never been one to attempt to pry secrets from others, even if he was burning with curiosity.

“You swore to wall of your heart after Castor died. Promising to never love anything else. But any door, however impregnable it seems, always has a key. Don’t be so blind to refute it exist when it’s right under your nose. Love might be foolish, but it is never wrong. Never be too afraid to love, Astarion, even if it ends in heartbreak.”

He stared at her in disbelief, his eyebrows rising, “what kind of bullshit message is that? ‘Remember to love’? Your friend must have a screw loose, I’m sure,” he scoffed, voice full of ridicule.

Karlach wasn’t surprised at his reaction, instead she shrugged casually. “Heed it if you wish, but I have kept my promise to deliver it.”

Astarion rose to his feet and shook his head slightly, “I wasn’t sure what I was hoping for. Well, I do, I was hoping for advice on how to kill Cazador and be free from my old master once and for all. Not vague and useless love advice from a fortune cookie. Thanks, but no thanks.”

She watched him stalk back into his tent after that. He still looked tense and maybe just a shred upset and suspicious. Some of her humour died on her face and she sighed deeply. She glanced back at the sky and hoped dearly, that this life would end happier than the last.

As she always did.