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Astarion collapsed to his knees as if a sudden weight crashed against his shoulder, dropping the very dagger which etched the scars into his flesh. Rhapsody clattered in the crimson puddle. Cazador’s blood soaked his skin and few clothes he wore. The droplets had arched forth from his abuser, crimson jets splattering his bare torso. He kept stabbing even after the light left Cazador’s cruel eyes. He was making sure Cazador wasn’t getting back up.
The vampire lord’s lifeless corpse lay in a pool of his blood, the cold ichor bubbling out the fresh stab wounds. Unmoving, Astarion stared at the body, fearing the vampire would pop back up and slice his flesh again. But he remained motionless, blood soaking his ornate clothes. His hateful red eyes had gone lifeless, the cruel spark snuffed out. He was truly dead, he wasn’t coming back.
Pained cries pierced his ears. An animalistic cry releasing so much sorrow. The raw pain scratching his throat, Astarion realised he was the one crying, feeling the hot tears pour down his face. His false breath strained and grasped, his fingers scraping the cold stone beneath him. Chest heaving, he wept for his lost memories, his two hundred years of torture, for all the people he ruined under Cazador’s orders.
Warm arms wrapped around his torso, embracing him. His false breath caught in his chest. A familiar scent of fresh paper and vanilla filled his senses. Comfort flurried inside his torso, the one person he truly cared for was holding him. The very person who begged him not to fulfil the Ascension, how he listened and knew the cycle would continue. How he might harm those closest to him if he followed through. Eden. His everything.
“I’m here, I’m here for you. Everything is going to be alright,” whispered Eden, holding him close, the wood elves' voice cracking.
Astarion clung to his lover’s arms as he cried, hands shaking and burrowing his bloody face against Eden’s chest. The wood elf whispered comforting words, stroking his hair, not caring about the blood and viscera. This man followed him directly into his personal hell, vowing he’d aid Astarion in destroying Cazador before the tadpole’s immunity was gone. That he’d do it for love, for his safety, for the revenge Astarion sort. Eden stood by him and saw the best when he thought it had shiveralled up inside him. He saw the glimmer of what Astarion could have been before Cazador stole it away. He believed and Astarion was forever grateful he nurtured the small glimmer.
They quietly held each other for a few moments until Astarion’s siblings made themselves known, looking like lost children. They stared in disbelief at Cazador’s corpse, astounded that their master was truly gone. It sounded too good to be true. Yet his pincushioned corpse was there, unmoving. Astarion pulled away from his lovers comforting embrace, plucking the vampire lord's staff, Woe, off the ground. He knew the staff controlled everything within the palace, holding the very fate of the 7,000 spawn tied to it.
The conversation with Sebastian whirled inside his head. The poor man stuck a century in a dark cellar, everything he’d ever known gone. But he pleaded with them not to let him die down here. The staff tied everything together, the deciding factor whether the spawn lived or not. Dread filled Astarion, knowing this was a heavy decision. How could he decide the fate of 7,000 tortured souls?
“What should we do with them?” asked Astarion, holding the cold staff, gazing at Eden.
Eden clasped his hands over Astarion’s, his warm amber eyes slightly teary. “They deserve a chance.”
“Really? 7,000 rabid spawn?” he said, sounding unsure.
Lae’zel piped up with slight scorn. “A herd of vampire spawn unleashed on the Sword Coast? What could go wrong?”
Eden shot her a glare before turning back to him. Astarion sighed shakily. “No, he’s right. The poor wretches in the cells are innocent. They shouldn’t have to suffer just because I lured them here.”
“I’m right here with you. Whatever you decide, we do together,” said Eden, squeezing his hands.
Astarion gave a determined nod, guiding the staff to unlock the cells. They lifted it together before bringing it back down on the harsh stone beneath them. A flash of red waves flourished from the staff. They heard the distinct sound of the doors unlocking echoed down the marble stairs. Thousands of footsteps tapped along the stone. Confused spawn idealed around the hallway, unsure of their new freedom. Astarion bowed his head before straightening his shoulders, turning towards his siblings.
“They’ll need someone to lead them. Take the tunnels into the Underdark, somewhere… well, not safe but less perilous?”
“What? No, we can’t-” began Petras, always the one to be defeated first.
Astarion held up his hand, feeling extremely tired. “Just try to keep them out of trouble.”
Dalyria stepped forward. Without saying a word, she gently smiled and gave her brother a solemn nod. He nodded back, trusting the drow woman to guide the lost spawn. Ever the reliable one, she walked towards the confused captives, motioning for them to follow her. Hesitating, the other siblings followed after her, even Petras realising they didn’t possess many options.
Astarion glanced around the dank ceremony site, seeing the blood, the mangled ghouls, his fallen master. A ringing sound filled his ears, his pale hands shaking. The weight was lifted from his shoulders, knowing he’d never have to face Cazador again. That his body wouldn't be violated against his will. The scars on his back were no longer aching, finally quieting down after so many decades giving him pain.
“I think we’re done here,” he stated, throwing the staff back into the blood.
He turned his back on the vampire corpse. No one cared enough for Cazador to even push his body into the abyss. He couldn’t hurt them anymore. Eden unclipped his cloak and placing it around Astarion’s bloodied shoulders, loosely holding him. Astarion held the fabric closely around his bare torso, the world becoming a blur. He vaguely recalled the Gur confronted them as they left the ceremony chamber.
He vaguely recalled Eden placing himself between the irate monster hunters and himself like a gallant knight. His saviour refusing to let anyone else harm him. Eden faced down a vampire lord, his abuser for Astarion. Despite his bloody and battered body, the wizard stood up straight and directly met the Gur’s angry gaze. Informing them of what took place, the Gur were satisfied enough, scurrying after their lost children.
Falling into the comforting numbness, Astarion blinked a few times, finding himself standing in the Elfsong room he shared with Eden. He didn’t recall getting there, having fallen into a stupor, no longer taking in his surroundings. His mind was far away, wishing to be completely blank. He didn't want to think, to process what happened. Remaining completely unemotional meant he could protect himself.
Eden was dragging the wooden washtub from the corner of the room closer towards the centre. He gently guided Astarion around the room, making sure the cloak covered his bloodied skin. Perching him on the bed, Eden began using his magic to summon enough water, filling the tub up. Once the water sloshed around, the wizard placed his hand under the small waves until steam began raising. He turned back, shoulders slumping slightly as he saw Astarion.
“Can I undress you?” asked Eden, holding out his hands.
The words refused to come, so Astarion merely nodded. Eden began peeling off the scarce clothing he wore, careful when touching him. Casting the bloody clothes aside, he took his hand and helped him into the washtub. A content sigh escaped Astarion as the warm water embraced him. He dipped his whole body in, feeling the warmth wrap around his cold form. The perfect temperature.
Picking up a sponge, Eden started gently wiping the blood away. The wood elf held his blood stained hands tenderly, making sure each digit was sparkling clean. Arms were next, the blood washed away. The tub turned a deep pink, Eden dismissing the water and swiftly refilled it again, the warmth returning.
Cusping Astarion’s ankle, he kneaded the creamy white legs, scrubbing the evidence of blood away as he did so. Small gasps and pleasured moans left his lips, easing the tension within his muscles. The whole thing was done with love. Eden expressed how he cared through simple touches. Astarion never knew non-sexual touches before this amazing man. The wizard went at the vampire's pace, letting him set the pace, knowing he’d never experienced such a relationship before.
Cuddles, hand holding, kissing; an exploration of what he did and didn’t like, knowing it wouldn’t result in sex. Astarion enjoyed the non-sexual intimacy of being so close to someone and sharing a bond which relied on trust, relied on care. Eden was the only person in the whole group he’d trust to help him during this state; a vague comatose stupor, utterly vulnerable to anything.
Finishing with his lower body, the water was once again banished and replaced. Eden wordlessly cupped Astarion’s face, he titled his head upwards, taking the washcloth and erasing the crimson blood. Their eyes met. Emotions came flooding forward. His face crumbled, the tears pouring down his face, a tight fist squeezing his chest. Wretched sobs shook his shoulders, Eden quickly holding his quivering face in his hands.
He’d never been so weepy before. But he’d also never killed his abuser before either. He thought ending that bastard would end his torrent emotions. They still remained, relief and profound sense of sadness. Astarion expected elation, happiness, triumph. Yet none of that came. It was hollow.
“It’s alright,” said Eden, wiping away the tears, “I’m here for anything you need. I’ll even leave if you need me to, once you're clean.”
Astarion grasped his hand and held it to his cheek. “No, please, don’t go.”
“As you wish, anything for you,” said Eden, his voice stained, “I’m going to start cleaning your hair. There’s quite a bit of blood.”
The pale elf released his lover's hand, leaning slightly forward. Eden grabbed the lavender and citrus shampoo Astarion enjoyed so much, lathering up his hands. His fingertips lightly rubbed his scalp, causing delighted shivers to move through his whole body. It tingles up and down his spine, his whole being relaxing the further his lover continued. Each white curl was completely covered in the sweet smelling liquid.
“Lets wash this out,” said Eden, patting his shoulders.
“Where are the others?” asked Astarion, tilting his head back.
“Currently taking anything of value from the Szarr palace,” said Eden, pouring water gently over the soapy suds, “Gale’s searching for legal documents and using very legal means to put everything in your name.
“Once we’ve picked the place clean, I was going to ask if you wanted to do anything to the home.”
He considered the question. “Probably burn it down.”
“I thought as much,” said Eden, smoothing the white haired elves' scalp, “I was thinking of a plan if you wanted that. To make sure it never hurts anyone else again.”
“Hmmm?” said Astarion, eyes fluttering, the warm water cascading around his face.
“The earthquakes. We bury whatever is under the manor with a few spells and burn it down. The city earthquakes will be blamed since they’re getting stronger,” said Eden, “I doubt Cazador advertised his vampirism and investigations may take place if his body is discovered.”
Astarion nodded, there were plenty of people who wanted Cazador dead but the city watch probably wouldn’t accept ‘he was an evil vampire honest’ as an excuse.
“You think it’ll work?”
“If we time it right,” said Eden, scrubbing the last of the suds away, “the earthquakes happen frequently. We’ll find a way. Gale and I will handle it.”
Blood cleared away, Eden lovingly dried him off, tidying away the impromptu spa treatment. Finding a soft pair of pyjama bottoms for Astarion to wear, having brought them after their excessive shopping trip once they arrived in the city. They’d accumulated quite a hefty amount of gold during their travels. Eden had insisted they buy the practical ideas first before throwing about money on the frivolous things. They spent so much money at Facemaker’s, Figaro threw in a few free items.
Eden held Astarion’s hands. “What do you want to do?”
The pale vampire gazed at their joined hands. “I-I think I just want to stay here, with you.”
Eden smiled kindly. “Alright. We stay here. Just tell me if you need anything.”
“Just - just hold me close,” he requested, lightly kissing his lovers lips.
The red head nodded, laying down on the bed. Astarion joined him, cuddling himself close against the wood elves' broad chest. Halsin was still bigger but only by a few inches. Astarion was the smallest in the relationship though Eden didn’t mind. Pulling the warm duvet around their bodies, Eden wrapped his arms around Astarion who was still shaking ever so slightly. He lavished him in tender kisses, keeping the pale elf’s ear close to his chest, knowing the beating heart calmed Astarion.
Rubbing circles around his back, Astarion small quakes stopped, snuggling his face closer into Eden’s chest. His false breath evened out, the fraught emotions dying down. He truly felt safe, cocooned in a loving embrace. He’d only ever felt this way within Eden’s arms, encompassed by pure love. When the relationship began, he truly confused him why the wizard showed such interest in a broken being.
Yet, Eden persisted, showing how he cared for the abused vampire; sharing their interests, asking for his opinions, nurturing aspects of his personality almost wiped away by Cazador’s abuse. Of course, he didn’t really care for the wizard to begin with. Too idealistic, seeing the best in others, helping those who could barely help themselves. Always a cheery smile, a soft spoken word, easily defending his way of life. How could such a person care fro him? A vain, cruel man who lured countless to a torturous existence?
“I don’t know if you want or need to hear this,” whispered Eden, stroking his damp hair, “but I’m really proud of you. You broke the cycle, you defeated Cazador in more ways than one, you didn’t take a corrupted power out of fear. You triumphed. You were amazing and I think you proved you were better than him.”
Astarion swallowed the knot in his throat. “There was a moment… the brief second where I hated you. Denying me a power which I thought I deserved because of what he did to me. That if I took it from him, I’d get one over one him, I’d be able to protect you and everyone we loved. Dispel the vile tadpoles inside our heads. I could give you everything you ever wanted.”
“All I wanted was you. You and your happiness.”
“I know. The temptation was too much. The hate went away when I saw you weren’t denying me out of selfishness. It was out of fear and worry, that I’d lose myself, the person I was outside of his control. The one you saw under the layers of darkness. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I hated you,” said Astarion, crying again.
“Shh, shh,” Eden said, stroking him gently, “it’s alright. I understand. I don’t hold it against you. It was a tense moment. I’m glad you made the choice you did. I was scared you wouldn’t want to be near me again.”
Astarion gazed up in shock, breath hitched as tears fell. “No, no, please don’t think that. I’m so glad you’re still here. You mean so much. I couldn’t have done this without you. Without the faith you had in me. Thank you for helping me.”
“Anything. You can ask me anything and I would do anything to help you. If you asked for a star in the sky, I would do anything to get it for you,” said Eden, holding his face.
Astarion surged forward, lip crashing into Eden’s, pressing his body closer to the other man’s. The affection was returned, Eden winding his hands through the white strands. The kiss was passionate but soft, a tender love enveloping them. The first time Astarion felt any warmth was when he first kissed Eden. Feeling the butterflies in his stomach, the giddiness holding his whole body which only grew more as the relationship gnew.
Pouring all their feelings into the embrace, Astarion sniffled, happy that Eden was still by his side. He thought the moment under the Palace would break their relationship. But Eden forgave him, understood why he acted the way he did, knowing he wasn’t doing anything out of cruelty.
Astarion broke off the kiss, leaning his forehead on Eden’s. “I don’t need the stars. I just need you, knowing whenever I open my eyes that you’ll be there is enough comfort.”
“I’ll be here,” promised Eden, hands smoothing his hair, “I’ll stay by your side, through thick and thin. You mean so much to me.”
“I feel the same. Thank you, for everything,” said Astarion, weakly smiling.
The pale elf burrowed his face further into Eden’s chest, breathing his scent in; the vanilla and paper smell which clung to him. Each time he smelt the delicate scent, his heart actually felt like it was beating. It was almost an addiction, caught amongst the wizard’s orbit and craving the sensations he caused. The long forgotten life he once possessed was brought forward by Eden, the world made brighter, better whenever they were close. Why would he give that up for power?
“You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll protect you no matter what,” promised Eden, kissing the top of his head.
“I’ll do the same for you, darling. I’ll gut anyone who tries to harm you,” said Astarion, listening to the steady breathing and rhythmic heartbeat.
The pair held each other close and fell into a comfortable silence. Though killing Cazador hadn’t brought the peace he expected, he truly felt happiness within Eden’s arms. And he wouldn’t give it up for anything.