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Astarion irritably flipped and caught a gold coin with one hand, absentmindedly petting the top of Scratch’s head. The mutt decided he was in need of his company, placing his head on Astarion’s leg. The white dog nuzzled his head into his hand and wagged his tail, warming the vampire's usual cool body. He’d been sitting on the sofa in the shared common room, eyes constantly flicking towards the door.
Waiting wasn’t his strong point. Eden was off running around the city tracking down a serial killer. Without him. Despite his protests, the wood elf stated he should appreciate the time to relax. Astarion knew Eden was using it as an excuse, jokingly brushing it off. Shadowheart, Wyll and Karlach got to go. He stayed behind like some war spouse waiting for their husband to return. Staring longingly out the window felt a bit too far, feeling like a lost puppy.
The others left behind pottered around, keeping themselves busy as they waited for the rest of the party to return. Lae'zel was once again attending to her already spotless armour. Minthara had declared she was bored and went into the city, probably to harass the poor denizens. Gale read another huge tome discussing magical theory. Jaheira and Minsc also left for the day which gladdened Astarion. The Stone Lord was an apt nickname for the human as it felt like talking to a brick wall half the time. Halsin was whittling once again, happily humming a tune to himself.
Astarion tried distracting himself through his usual hobbies; reading though he took in no words, sewing but his heart wasn’t really in it. He even tried practising with his daggers but his mind flashed back to the bloody corpse of his former master. Astarion was feeling a bit useless. The first time he fought after they took down Cazador, he froze. The moment his daggers sliced his enemies flesh, his mind snapped back to the vampire lord’s bloody corpse.
Those lifeless eyes and knowing he was finally gone. But his blood drenched hands and him breaking down filled his mind. The next thing he knew was Eden throwing a firebolt towards the bandit he’d been fighting as he clutched his head, reducing the man to cinders. Why it happened, Astarion wasn’t sure. With Cazador gone, he had freedom to explore who he truly was with a man he loved. He’d even started having sex again! So why did his mind betray him? Eden seemed to see his shaky performance and stated he should stay behind until he was ready.
Did Eden think he was incapable of fighting? See him as a weak link? The wizard reassured him that he was a key member of the party, the one who always found a way in, who travelled easily in the shadows, his stealth easily surprising their enemies. He’d opened countless chests after the others fumbled their way with the locks. Eden even taught Astarion spells, praising how quickly he learnt the spells, Astarion proud preening from the praise. Shocking Grasp was a particularly favourite, loving how he snuck up behind his enemies and watching them thrash around as he gleefully filled them with lightning.
A few slip ups and he was delegated to relaxing in the tavern. Somewhat difficult when Orin’s shapeshifting ways had put everyone on edge. One problem dealt with and another reared it’s ugly head. Astarion’s calves must be in tiptop condition considering how he was constantly on his toes. Scratch nudged his hand, Astarion having the audacity to stop stroking his head.
“Needy little thing aren’t you?” said Astarion, petting around his ears, “are you trying to comfort me about Eden or are you worried too?”
The white dog huffed, nuzzling his hand. The hounds' ears pricked up, muzzled head turning towards new footsteps. His second favourite person in the whole party approached the sofa Astarion lounged on; Halsin. Scratch gave Astarion’s hand a quick lick before trotting towards the druid, his tail wagging excessively. Halsin smiled warmly as the dog rolled on his back, awaiting his favourite form of pets.
“Restless?” asked Halsin, eyes meeting Astarion’s, rubbing Scratch’s belly.
“Bored,” replied Astarion, half lying. Idealing around was incredibly dull.
The older elf smiled kindly. “It’s alright to worry for our friends. I’m sure Eden has everything to hand.”
Astarion tartly tutted. “Yes, I’m sure he’s doing perfectly fine without me.”
Halsin ruffled the dog's fur, shaking his head kindly. “You are a valuable asset to Eden and he also cares for you deeply. He’s merely worried about you, wondering if he’s pushing you too quickly.”
“He could try asking.”
The druid shook his head. “That I admit you are correct in. I think Eden is thinking what is best for you instead of talking. He’s probably afraid of hurting you further.”
The vampire raised an eyebrow. “Talk about this when you’re together?”
Halsin and Eden had started a relationship with Astarion’s blessing. He’d been present for the pair’s first time since Eden was so nervous. The poor wizard mainly grew up in the feywilds and his social skills weren’t the best, asking for his guidance. Knowing guilt of entertaining the idea of another lover, Astarion happily helped Eden. He was open to letting others in the relationship, explaining what he wanted from polyamory. They always communicated, made their intentions and expectations clear and had the right to veto anything without being resented. It worked so far, Halsin leaving an open invitation for him to join them whenever he was comfortable.
Halsin shook his head again. “No. Eden keeps those things underwraps. He only tells me what you’ve given permission for. I have merely observed.”
Astarion sniffed. He was glad Eden didn’t discuss their relationship. He'd placed so much trust within the man, the first time he'd ever done so. No one had ever earned that privilege, not in his two hundred years of existence. Eden remained equally tight lipped regarding his relationship with Halsin. The two men kept a respectful relationship with their shared lover.
Recently, Halsin was spending more time with Astarion since Eden delegated him as back up. The old druid would enquire after his day, asking if he wanted to partake in drinks downstairs or maybe an adventurous walk around the city. Astarion scrutinised the sudden interest, debating what the druids' end game was. Perhaps he was doing it to show he wasn't a threat to Astarion and Eden’s relationship. Or filling his own time and using Astarion for entertainment.
However, the pale elf did find himself enjoying the outings with Halsin. He could visibly see how uncomfortable the city made the large elf though most people parted around the beast of a man. The lack of nature troubled the druid and he actually flinched witnessing the grey dock water infested by the nearby factory fumes. But Halsin persevered, relaxing whenever they reached a scrap of nature. Astarion didn’t know any better, he might believe Halsin was mainly going into the city for his benefit.
“I admit, despite my age I haven’t visited many cities,” Halsin explained, enjoying a mead as Astarion sipped a glass of wine on the elfsong roof, watching a street performer dazzle the crowd with impressive fire tricks.
“Baldur’s Gate is the only city I’ve ever known. But it is very different in the daylight. Our little countryside traversing wasn’t my type of living,” said Astarion.
Of course, there had to have been somewhere before Baldur’s Gate. He’d never discovered an Ancunin residing within the city walls. The only reason he knew his surname was the cursory glance he gave the headstone after crawling forth from his grave. It was something he clung to after two hundred years of torture. His name, the thing Cazador could never truly take.
“Truly there was nothing you liked about our foray into nature?” asked Halsin.
Astarion smirked. “Well, it was quieter. More peaceful. I could have done without the rocks and twigs digging into my back.”
“You could have asked me for help. I’m told I’m quite comfortable to trance against when in bear form,” said Halsin, cheekily smiling.
“Well, if we ever find ourselves back in the wildness, I’ll be sure to ask,” said Astarion, coyly sipping his wine.
He’d noticed how close they stood, leaning over the balcony and watching the city bustle below them. Their arms were almost brushing, Astarion feeling the wood elves' hairs tickle his unblemished skin. He remained silent, not saying anything as he heard Alfira begin plucking her lute behind them, witnessing the sun dip below the sky. He felt rather safe with the druid, relaxed and at peace. So he kept quiet so he didn’t ruin the moment.
“I was left behind also,” stated Lae’zel, cleaning her armour.
“Because Eden needed someone less sword happy and subtlety when investigating the murders,” Astarion answered tartly, “which astounds me on why he took Karlach.”
“We must trust in Eden’s decisions. He is facing the undead and has taken those who deal with the situation.”
“He didn’t take Minthara. She’s a paladin.”
For a brief second disapproval flitted across Halsin’s scarred face. “Yes, well, it was a questionable decision to have her join.”
Astarion leaned his chin mischievously on his hands, lying on his front as he coyly swung his legs back and forth. “I thought we weren’t questioning Eden’s decisions?” he asked, cheekily.
Halsin exhaled. “I didn’t say they were beyond criticism.”
“Mmmm, like Minsc.”
“Minsc didn’t steal my bed,” Halsin grumbled.
“What?”
“Never mind,” the druid swifty said, “shall we head out into the city. I find myself rather confined and would like to experience the open sky. And you did lament about having finite days in the sun, I can’t believe you’d rather spend time within the Inn.”
Astarion grudgingly sat up. “Thank you for the reminder of my limited time enjoying the daylight. But I suppose you have a point. I believe there’s some sort of small festival going on near the temples, we should go take a look.”
Halsin’s frown widened into a grin. “A fine choice. Lae’zel would you like to join?”
The githyanki scrunched up her face. “I will not partake.”
The druid glanced around. “I thought Yenna might like to join.”
Astarion wrinkled his nose. Eden had adopted quite a number of strays during the journey, himself included. The recent addition was a small red headed child obsessed with making soup. Everyone had taken on a parental role with Yenna, Gale keeping an eye and guiding her when cooking. Yenna claimed her sick mother was coming back but Astarion knew the girl was an orphan. Even he kept an eye on the wayward child to make sure she was comfortable and well fed.
“I believe Minsc and Jaheira have taken her out to get new shoes. Minsc declared ‘any good warrior must have fitted shoes to kick enemy butt’,” said Gale, not looking up from his book.
“Sounds about right,” grumbled Astarion, double checking his outfit. Since Eden let him loose, he’d gone wild buying new clothes, changing each day to something which reflected his mood. Today was a rather impressive deep green doublet with golden stitching.
“I was thinking Yenna needed new clothes. Alas, I was not sure where to take the child. Lucky we have Jaheira,” mused Halsin.
“Shall we go then, bear?” he asked, smoothing back his hair.
Halsin smiled. “May I escort you?” he asked, holding out his arm.
Astarion gave a dismiss sniff to ignore his fluttering stomach. “I suppose you may,” he said, looping their arms together.
The two men exited the tavern, Astarion briefly catching Alfira’s eye as she tuned her lute. The pale blue tiefling waggled her eyebrows suggestively which he rolled his eyes at in return. She’d seen them together a number of times though Alfira was quite busy with her own budding relationship, spending every spare second with Lakrissa. The pair were rather sweet together.
Apprehension fluttered around Astarion, wondering if his time with Halsin was giving the wrong impression. Their close companions knew of Astarion, Halsin’s and Eden’s arrangement, being reassured, yes, they were definitely happy with the situation. However, they made it clear Halsin and Astarion weren’t involved. He started to feel the opinion regarding this was changing, considering how much time they spend together. Astarion knew he shouldn’t be indulging the idea of starting another relationship without speaking with Eden. But the idea of not going on their little outings made him sad.
Strolling arm in arm towards the market place, the usual vendors yelling about their wares, the wizards practising their spells to the easily amazed denizens of the city. Colourful fabric canopies created shade and protected the wares displayed, glowing runes scratched into the table. Astarion knew they were magic runes which alerted the merchant to anyone who stole from them. Not all merchants could afford such a luxury, the skilled thieves knowing who should be targeted.
Astarion remained close to Halsin who tried maintaining a neutral expression though he was clearly uncomfortable. Countless people were crammed down the narrow walkways, shoulders and elbows constantly bumping together. There had been maybe fifty druids at most residing in the Grove, who knew how many people lived in the city's stone walls, possibly hundreds of thousands. Plenty he’d lured inside the Szarr Palace, easily replaced by the many who immigrated to the city.
Astarion banished the troubling thoughts away. The Palace is gone now, the memories erased by a well-timed Earthquake rocking the city, Eden and Gale’s frightening magic crumbling the walls down, burying the horrifying basement under the rubble. For extra security, they set the place of fire, making sure nothing could hurt the victims ever again. He tightly held Eden’s hand as they watched the building light up, the flames burning away the miserable past and cleansing the area.
The investigation conducted by the City Watch ruled that Lord Cazador Szarr died after an unstable wall in his home caused the rest to fall down. Since it took place at night, the Flaming Fists deduced the fires probably came from the fireplaces around the massive home. Bodies of ‘servants’ were pulled from the debris, the tortuous place Cazador created erased, the evidence wiped away.
Very few people would know what the vampire lord had done, if they did, they were remaining tight lipped on the matter. Probably a few people he had under his thumb were probably glad he was dead, maybe pulling a few strings to make sure their involvement with his little parties were covered up. Everything was wrapped up, Cazador Szarr ‘buried’ and his heir, Astarion Ancunin was inheriting everything. It was hard to believe that chapter of his life was over.
He knew things weren’t fully resolved. Astarion planned to use the money for funding the spawn and his siblings in the Underdark. When reading the assets and figures he’d inherited through very legal means, his eyes almost bulged out his head. He planned to stay in Baldur’s Gate after the tadpole was dealt with, knowing he needed a space to hide from the sun again. Eden seemed determined to either cure his vampirism or at least prevent the sun from harming him once the Absolute was defeated.
Halsin dragged him away from his turbulent thoughts, pointing at a lovely stall where they sold flowers. Eventually they started heading towards the festival happening near Temple Alley where the acceptable gods were celebrated.
“Sir, would you like to try a new treat from Amn? It’s taking the city by storm but we have the best!” said the salesperson, beaming as they held out the offering.
Astarion scrunched his nose as if the man was handing him dirt. Food wasn’t something he really craved or needed. The sweet smells always taunted him but the actual taste Before he declined the free sample, it was shoved into his hands.
“It’s shaved ice! We add whatever flavour syrup you want; strawberry, apple, orange, whatever you like! Maybe share something sweet with your sweetheart,” said the salesperson, winking at Halsin.
The druid blushed fiercely, opening and closing his mouth. Astarion stepped in. “Thank you, I’m sure we’ll be back,” he smoothly lied, taking Halsin’s hand and manoeuvring them towards the festival.
Sidestepping the salesperson who targeted the next people walking by, he waited till they were out of sight before dealing with the dessert. Astarion held the free sample, feeling the ice pellets move around the cupboard cup, a deep blue colour dying the clear shavings. He thrust it towards Halsin.
“Here. You should have it. I can hardly taste the flavour anyway, it’ll just be a waste on me,” he said, sniffing dismissively.
“If you're sure,” said Halsin, sounding uncertain, the small sample looking a little absurd in his large hands.
“Of course, darling, someone should appreciate it,” said Astarion, tartly running a hand through his perfect curls.
Truthfully, he was envious. Unable to partake in flavours everyone could enjoy and took for granted each day. He couldn’t recall the true flavour of many things, his memories of being alive were very blurry. There were always different notes in the blood he had; salt, sweet, bitter. Taste he could liken to a food many consumed each day. But blood could only go so far. Hand the right person dough and they could make a dozen different items. Nothing he’d never experience again. If he did have food, it never tasted of anything pleasant, his body outright rejecting it.
It didn’t mean he hadn’t in his two hundred years. Cazador often tortured him by making him consume food, knowing how it would taste like ashes and how he’d wretch. His body rejected the useless nutrients as his organs barely maintained their true function anymore. How Cazador laughed. His shrill giggles piercing his ears as he violently writhed on the floor, purging the food from his system. Astarion hoped the bastard was experiencing the same thing in whatever hell he ended up.
Halsin scooped the dessert into his mouth, eyebrows quirking upwards clearly delighted by the flavours. Downing the shaved ice quickly, he did a very druid thing, crumbling the cupboard holder and made it become mulch, depositing the impromptu fertiliser onto a nearby flowerbed.
“How was it?” asked Astarion, unable to sate his curiosity.
“Rather pleasant. Not too sweet and refreshing. I think it’ll do quite well in the warmer months,” said Halsin, “a blueberry flavour I believe.”
“Lovely,” replied Astarion, quelling his envy.
Heading down Temple Alley, his pointed ears picking up energetic music. Turning the stone corner, he blinked, surprised upon seeing a very colourful display. Usually Temple Alley was demure and quiet, those wishing to worship their various deities quietly going about their business. Everyone kept a respectful distance and the priests preached how the general masses should worship their deity.
The beige stone had been lightened up by a menagerie of colourful flowers and streamers hanging from the streetlamps. Tables containing a cacophony of fruits and vegetables adorned the walkway, the less fortunate members of the city quickly taking what they could carry. This seemed to be encouraged by the priests who dressed very similarly to Halsin. Druids in the city weren’t a common sight, most never settled their roots there, preferring a transient life.
A band sat beside the small temple entrance, many attending the festival joyfully dancing. They laughed and clapped, many sported red faces and sweat glistening skin, letting dance overtake them. Heralding the event was a beautiful statue with open arms as if to greet their followers, positioned over the doorway. It depicted a gorgeous plus sized woman with a warm, motherly smile, flowers and various plants entwined with her curly, luxurious hair, small animals running around her arms. Halsin gave a rather boisterous laugh.
“Oh, it’s celebrating Chauntea. What a lovely surprise,” chuckled Halsin, looking rather relieved.
“The Earthmother goddess? Hmm, that does sound like your sort of thing,” said Astarion, cocking his hip, “do you worship her like Silvanus?”
Halsin shook his head. “I revere her and awed by her control over magic. But she does not hold the same place as Silvanus.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes. Chauntea guides and controls certain aspects of nature such as crops. Silvanus represents the wilder, untamed aspects of nature. I embrace that aspect since my penchant for roaming as a bear,” explained Halsin, smiling softly, “they both bring important aspects and balance each other.”
Astarion merely hummed a response. He’d never liked the gods, having begged and prayed, given silence in return. Though not outwardly speaking against the gods considering how party members followed them, Astarion settled for tolerating them. A few druids spotted them milling around, prancing up holding flower crowns. Placing them atop the two men’s heads, the druid struggled with Halsin’s height for a brief moment. The large elf chuckled good naturedly, bending down to welcome the crown.
The druids flocked around Halsin, noticing a fellow kinsman. He spoke in depth with them as Astarion discovered homemade wine nearby. Sipping the surprisingly good bouquet, he was good natured enough to keep the crown atop his head. The druids discussed whatever druidy things came to mind, Halsin talking about the Emerald Grove, the other druids gazing at him in reverence when realising he was an Archdruid. Astarion patiently sipped his wine until the druids bid them goodbye, preparing for the small ceremony they organised.
Gently chanting, the Chauntea followers circled the statue and the air filled with the smell of fresh cut grass. They watched the city druids sprung new life from the pathetic piece of land the city deigned to give them. Wild flowers and small tree grew quickly but steadily, blooming until they adorned the temple doorway. Those partaking in the free items gave a polite clap, the dancers briefly stopping to join in before beginning their feverish foot stomping again.
“Would you like to dance?” asked Halsin, holding his hand towards Astarion.
He couldn’t help but scoff. “You dance?”
The druid shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve been known too. Not very well, I might add and there’s the possible threat of trodden toes. If you aren’t adverse to the risk.”
Astarion sighed, a twinging smile threatening his lips. “I suppose I do like a challenge. You can heal any damage you do.”
Joining hands, the pair smoothly transitioned amongst the other dancers. Astarion found himself mainly guiding the bulkier druids movements, nimble feet avoiding any serious harm. During the tiefling part, Halsin remained stoic by the sidelines with Zevlor, Eden making a play for the older druid who gently let him down. He never indicated any interest in dancing. But he joyfully laughed and followed Astarions instructions, both men managing a jig of some sort.
Halsin tried his best, avoiding any major feet treading. As the song wound down, Halsin lifted Astarion into the air, comfortably settling the smaller elf in his arms. The laugh he reserved for Eden was escaping his lips, a strong urge to kiss the druid overwhelmed him. Halsin’s soft eyes lingered on his for a moment, lips pursing together. He quickly coughed, letting Astarion down and turning his face away.
“Shall we head back to the Inn? Eden might be back by now,” suggested Halsin, his cheeks a healthy red colour. Astarion found himself heating up too.
They quietly made their way back to the Elfsong, closely walking side by side, fingers occasionally brushing together. Nothing else was said but the urge for more danced inside his now warming chest. Glancing at Halsin, their eyes occasionally met, quickly breaking eye contact. He didn’t know why he was acting like an embarrassed school boy, he hadn’t felt this way since meeting Eden. He felt incredibly foolish; just because Halsin got along with him, it didn’t mean he wanted a relationship.
Eden had not yet returned to the Elfsong, Astarion once again seated himself on a soft sofa. Halsin peeled off for food downstairs. Gale was gone, he suspected Jaheira probably took Yenna to her home considering the amount of people who invaded the camp. With the Orin threat, they were being vigilant but knew they couldn’t protect everyone. That shapeshifting bitch would find a way in. Lae’zel was off in her room doing gods knows what, her shining armour proudly displayed in the shared space as if showing off their skills.
Returning to the book he hadn’t paid much attention to before heading out, hoping Eden arrived soon. He was anxious to talk to Eden, realising he’d started feeling emotions beyond just friendship with Halsin. He squirmed around the sofa, unable to feel a comfortable spot. How would Eden react? He mentioned Halsin and Astarion being involved before, hinting he wouldn’t mind further relations between the two. But that wasn’t explicit permission. The impulsive need to confess all made him very fidgety.
The door for the shared space opened, Halsin stepping through, a wooden tray delicately balancing in his broad arms. Was he bringing his food up here? The others ate downstairs most of the time, knowing he couldn’t join the meal. Astarion was a little annoyed, wondering why Halsin thought taunting him was a good idea.
“I have something for you,” said Halsin, placing down the wooden tray.
A bowl containing shaved ice sat before him, seeing the frozen water chips bathed in a deep red colour.
Astarion looked unimpressed. “I thought we established I couldn’t have this.”
“Oh, let me explain, sorry,” stuttered Halsin, actually appearing anxious, “I was thinking it was unfair that you couldn't partake in the sample. So I made something you can have. The vampiric body needs water too which can be taken through blood. You can also drink alcohol and get a taste from it. Blood already contains nutrients you need, I just added some additional sugar. The blood should help give you some taste.”
The pale elf sat up, taking in a deep breath. He smelt the familiar iron scent, the mouth watering notes of the very thing he constantly craved coming from the dessert. His eyes flicked upwards, needing Halsin’s soft brown ones.
“Where did you get the blood?” he asked, fingers tapping the table.
“I donated it myself. I healed myself up afterwards, not even a scratch,” said Halsin, holding up a calloused hand.
Astarion leaned forward, prodding the shaved ice stack with the tip of his finger. Surprisingly freezing compared to his already cold skin. The droplets remained stubbornly on his finger, balancing along the tip. He lifted the shavings towards his mouth and licked. The taste was rather pleasant, he actually tasted the faint sweetness amongst the coppery notes of blood.
Tentatively picking up the spoon provided, Astarion dug out a generous amount, listing it towards his mouth. The flavours lit up his long dead taste buds. Sure, it was just ice, blood and sugar. But it didn’t taste like dirt in his mouth. He did prefer taking blood from the source but this was extremely thoughtful of Halsin to go to all this trouble for him. Astarion stirred around the ice shavings before taking another bite. It sated a hunger in him he probably hadn’t felt since he was alive.
A moan escaped his lips, the sugary tang working with the salty blood. It was refreshing and his body accepted it. There was no urge for him to throw it back up again. Halsin was right; the blood mixed with the solid water could be assimilated by his undead form. Before he knew it, he’d consumed the entire thing. Nervously placing down the empty bowl, he placed his hand upon his lap.
“That was very thoughtful of you. Why?” Astarion asked, quietly.
Halsin crouched down before Astarion, tenderly smiling. “You deserve to enjoy the same things as others. I know there are limits to what we can do. But I want to try for you, so you can find the same joy as others.”
Astarion bit his bottom lip. “But why?”
Halsin smiled, looking down at his hands. “I care for you, little star. I didn’t know if you felt the same way. My involvement with Eden… I know it doesn’t have to mean we'll have the same relationship or that you want it.”
“I do,” he blurted.
Halsin blinked. “Really?”
“I haven’t spoken to Eden about this yet,” mumbled Astarion, his cheeks blushing, “I don’t know - we shouldn’t -”
Halsin gently stroked his knee. “I’ll wait if you want me to. If you're more comfortable speaking to Eden before we begin anything, I’ll respect that. I will selfishly add, Eden did seem amenable to the idea of us all being together. He just didn’t want to pressure you or fracture what you had.”
True, Eden did always say he was free to join them when he was comfortable. As an extra participant or lover, it was entirely his own choice.
“Can I - I kiss you?” Astarion asked, hesitantly curling his hands against his chest.
“Of course, my star,” said Halsin, tilting his head upwards.
“Yes, nothing happens without your consent,” said Halsin, gingerly placing his hands on Astarion’s legs.
The high elf tentatively reached a hand forward, placing it against Halsin’s cheek. “That goes the same for you. You must know I’m not going to break. But thank you for the care.”
Astarion leaned forward, pressing his lips against Halsins. Pleasant fluttering rippled through his stomach, a warmth spreading inside his chest. A similar feeling when he embraced Eden. He was safe and comforted, knowing he wouldn’t be harmed, that he was cared for. Halsin’s rough hand cupped his face, enthusiastically reciprocating the kiss. He was happy, he was content. They broke the tender embrace, Halsin beaming brightly, pressing their foreheads together.
“That was perfect,” breathed Halsin.
“I always aim for perfection, darling,” he whispered back, “do you think Eden will be ok with this?”
Halsin chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he punched the air and babbled happily.”
“Want to bet a gold on that?” said Astarion.
“Hardly a fair bet if you know the outcome.”
Astarion laughed and tightly held him close. “I can’t wait for his reaction.”
Happiness flooded every nerve. Because he knew he was loved. Not just by one man but two. He wasn’t a broken man undeserving of affection. Everything Cazador said had been a lie. Astarion was hopeful for his future with both Eden and Halsin.