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Astarion took his love's sickness very seriously, even if it was just a cold.
This wasn't life or death. It wasn't a bloody, gaping, incurable wound. He wasn't fighting to keep her alive until healing came. She wasn't dying. It was the sniffles and a fever, hardly something to bat an eye over.
But, bat an eye he did.
It was the the first time he had ever seen her unwell. She had always been so strong and brave, a fearless, unyielding leader in and out of battle. Capable, powerful but oh so tenderhearted and soft. Seeing her sick, was...unsettling. There was a weight on his heart. He felt off.
"Please don’t look at me like that Astarion." She whined, pulling the blanket he had hand stitched for their bed over her head. "I feel horrid enough already without your pity."
He sat on the edge of their bed, rubbing circles soothingly against her thigh while she hid under the blanket. "My darling, I only want to know what I can do to make you feel better. Are you cold? Hungry?"
"Astarion," she whined again, drawing out every sylable of his name from the depths of her blanket cave.
"Stop hiding from me, little love." He spoke softly, pulling the blanket down from off of her head gently. She glared at him pathetically as he unearthed her, her eyes all puffy and nose all red. He couldnt help but scoff. "There you are. You're getting snot all over my hard work, you silly thing." He said.
She shrunk back into herself, deflated and sniffling. "Sorry." She mumbled, averting her eyes from his own.
"Oh, my love, I'm only teasing. It's nothing a little soap and scrub can't handle." He inched closer to her, and cupped her face with one hand, swiping away her unbrushed hair with the other. He placed a gentle kiss to her forehead which burned under his lips. He didn't pull away. "You're burning up, darling. Would you like a cold compress?"
"I wish you wouldn't fuss over me." She remarked, letting herself sink into him all the same.
"You're my wife. What else am I to do?"
She smiled at that. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was smiling. He loved it when he could feel her smile against him. "You're married to a terribly snotty monster."
"I am." He agreed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. But gods do I adore her."
She laughed at that, but it came out as more of a croak. "I love you, Astarion."
He felt his heart ache in his chest. "Then let me take care of you, my little monster. Please. Tell me what I can do to make you more comfortable." He muttered into her hair.
She reached for his hand, entangling their fingers together. "I think I’d like a bath." She admitted. "And maybe some tea."
He stood right away, content to have been given some direction. He gave her hand a squeeze before letting it fall back into her lap. "I'll run you a bath then. See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"
She hummed in gentle annoyance, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She closed her eyes, and let her head fall gentlly back against their headboard. He kissed her softly, adoring, despite the snot. She hadn't registered that he had left to run the bath until she heard the water start from the other room. Usually, she was used to his unnatural quietness, but the sound of rushing water made her jump.
Her body was heavy, even blinking felt like too much exertion. She realized quickly that Astarion's pestering had really been the only thing keeping her awake. Surely she could rest for a few small moments before he returned. A nap sounded nearly as lovely as a bath.
She wasn't sure how much time passed before she opened her eyes again. She didn't hear him re-enter their room, but she did feel the bed dip a little under his slight weight when he sat down beside her. He resumed rubbing circles into her thigh, just as if he hadn't left. She slowly cracked an eye open to peak at him. His sleeves were damp, his face crinkled in the same concern he had been wearing all morning. If he could see his reflection she knew he would hate those forehead wrinkles. She adored them.
"Are you ready?" he asked her, his voice oh so tender.
"Mm." She hummed, finding the soreness of her throat making it hard for her to say much more. "Just give me a moment. I don’t think I can stand quite yet."
"Shall I carry you?" He asked, the vulnerability in his voice palpable.
It took her a moment, but she nodded against the headboard. She owed it to herself to be vunerable too. "Yes," she breathed.
He picked her up the way one would something precious. Carefully, expertly, his touch oozing with love. His cool fingers felt wonderful as they brushed against her burning skin, she let herself melt into his touch with a sigh, letting her head loll against his shoulder. He kissed her temple as he carried her across the room.
He had often bragged that he was an expert in getting her undressed, and she suposed that was true even while she was sick.
"I'm going to put you down now," he whispered into the shell of her ear. It made her shiver. "Can you stand?"
She nodded, not wanting to speak.
He set her down as carefully as he had picked her up. She appreciated the slowness of his pace. She was worried the room would start to spin if she were to move to quickly. She shivered once more as her bare feet met the coolness of the bathroom tile. The room smelled of lavender bath salts.
"Arms up." He commanded, no trace of harshness found in his voice.
She did as she was told, and ever so slowly lifted her arms above her head. Gently, he tugged off her nightgown and let it pool on the floor beside them. She instinctively brought her arms down to cover herself, but her elf scoffed again.
"What did I say about hiding from me, my sweet?" He whispered, taking her hands carefully in his own and bringing them to her sides. "You're a vision, even in this state. I want to spend every possible moment of this meager existence looking at you."
"Something has gotten into you today." She remarked.
"Perhaps." He replied, not offering any further insight. He drew her close, kissing the soft spot at the nape of her neck where he often drank from her. "But let's get you into the bath. It's nice and warm."
She nodded, allowing him to lead her to the tub. She sank down into it. It was warm, just as he had promised. She noticed then, that her pale elf had lit some of his favorite candles on their vanity. She smiled up at him, letting her head fall back against the porcelain. This WAS nice.
He knelt behind her then, hands gentle, and ever cautious and began to rub her shoulders. He always came up with new ways to make her melt.
"Does that feel good?" he asked, his tone low, considerate, loving but absent of the usual lust she would expect in a situation like this.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice frail. "Very nice."
He continued to massage her shoulders, planting kisses into her hair every so often, like summer seeds being sown into a garden, until the bathwater grew cold. She hadn't realized that her body had begun to shiver at the change of temperature, but he had.
"I think we better get you back to bed." He said firmly. "You've earned that cup of tea."
She moaned in protest as he wrapped her in one of their blue towels but she couldn't muster the energy to fight him further. He took her hand, leading her back to the bedroom this time. She nearly collapsed back into the bed when he let her. He pulled their blanket back up and around her sweetly, cocooning her tightly in plush warmth.
"I'll be right back." He told her with another quick peck on the cheek.
"Astarion, wait."
He turned back on his heel to face her. "Yes, darling?"
"Would you... just sit with me for a moment?"
His brow furrowed in concern. "Of course, darling." He crawled in to the bed gracefully, much more graceful than she had ever been, even without being sick. "Looking for a cuddle?" He asked.
"Yes." She breathed. "Please."
His face broke open. "Oh, of course, my love. Come here." He held open his arms for her to fall into.
She snuggled up into him, sniffling a little. His arms snaked around her and drew her in so close. She let her head fall against his chest. His heart didn't beat. That was okay. Hers stirred enough for the both of them.
"Astarion," she whispered. "Tell me what you're thinking."
"Whatever do you mean?" He asked.
"Whatever it is that you've been thinking all day. I know there's something wriggling around in that head of yours."
"I've had enough things wriggling around in my mind to last a lifetime." He answered.
"Astarion," she whined earnestly. "Please."
He sighed, long and deep and eased himself into a more comfortable position. "Well, one day, hopefully one day very, very far away, this won't just be a cold, you know. One day, it'll be-" He squeezed her tightly for reassurance. "One day you'll-" He took in another breath, the words stuck in his throat. "One day," he started again bravely. "You will go somewhere that I cannot follow."
"Astarion-!"
He continued, cutting her off. "I know that you won't die from this." He remarked, taking her and and tracing the lifeline of her palm. "But one day, you will, whether it be by age or disease. And I will be all alone in the shadow cast by your sunlight. And on that day, my love, I don't know what will become of me."
"You will live." She answered simply. "And you will love again after I'm gone."
He shook his head. "No. Never again like this. You have carved open my heart in a way I didn't know possible. You have bound yourself to my very soul. Without you, all of this seems so meaningless."
"It's terrifying to love someone so much, isn't it?" She whispered, her voice cracking.
"Yes." He whispered back. "Please don't go where I can't follow."
"Astarion, darling, while I cannot promise you a life stretched full of the pleasures of immortality, I can promise you that I will love you, every day for the rest of my mortal life." She reached up to cup his cheek. "And, I will continue to love you, no matter where the next life takes me. I know that isn't fair to you, my darling, but I hope its enough."
He grasped her hand tightly, as if it were a lifeline and kissed her fingers. "It is. You, my love, will always be enough."