Archive of Our Own

Astarion despised trancing. He had better memories, these days, but only having roughly six months of good versus 200 years of pure shit to relive while trancing made it difficult. Choosing to sleep instead was much more of a gamble—dreams and nightmares could be flat-out weird, interesting, or absolutely terrifying.

Tonight, it seemed that the nebulous depths of his brain had decided tonight would be the "absolutely terrifying" variety.

His brain squirmed. No, something inside his brain. The tadpole. No, hadn't it been fried in the final fight? Izz'zen had commanded the brain to kill itself, he remembered this, so why was—

Pain exploded in his head and he fell to a knee, clutching at it. The clouds above parted, sunrays hit his skin, and then he began boiling with the pain. But the tadpole was supposed to protect him, why wasn't it—but no, it was inexplicably gone again, had it just been a memory of the pain? He didn't know—his breath caught in his throat and he suppressed a scream as he fled to the shadows. The safe, comforting shadows, the beloathed shadows that protected him.

Cazador waited for him there. But he'd—he'd stabbed him! A dozen times, at least!

"Boy," Cazador said, grabbing Astarion by the throat. He tried to scream, to snarl, to wriggle out and fight back—

He sat straight up in bed, the scream still echoing in the room. He panted harshly, curling in on himself, trying to regain his breath. Fuck. Fuck. That had been awful. He wasn't even sure it had been worth it, if he'd gotten any godsdamned rest.

A touch on his shoulder. He flinched away, whirling around to bare his teeth at the assailant—and then his vision focused, and Gale's face swam into view. The knots in his chest loosened, and he relaxed some, slumping forward with a soft sigh.

"Good morning, Gale," he said, clearing his throat and wincing a bit. That scream had torn at his throat. Damn it all.

"Good morning," Gale replied, raising an eyebrow. Astarion didn't need to look to know that Gale was raising his stupid little eyebrow. "Are you… Do you need some…"

Astarion sighed again, rolling his shoulders and sitting up properly to look Gale in his face. "I don't need a healing potion, or some blood," he said. "But thank you for trying to offer."

Gale smiled sheepishly. "Would you like to talk about it?" he offered next, keeping his hands to himself.

Astarion didn't want him to keep his hands to himself. He leaned into Gale's side and slid his arms around Gale's torso, relaxing as Gale's arms slid around him to hold him close. He felt… better. He'd never realized or knew how much having someone that you loved right there for you could be such a balm on the soul. Disgusting. He chuckled a bit at his own thoughts and pressed a kiss into Gale's shoulder.

"Thank you," he murmured again.

Gale's hand came up and started to rub his back soothingly. If this had been even a month ago, he wouldn't have allowed that, but bit by bit, he was relaxing into this… odd domesticity with Gale. It was nice. He'd never thought this would be his style, especially given he spent the first few months wandering away anyway at night, seeking something to do, trying to cobble together a meaning for his life. It caused several fights between himself and Gale. Gale wanted to settle down. To relax and breathe and just start living what he'd considered a normal life before the tadpole—before the orb.

Astarion had no idea what "normal" looked like. Danger was in his blood. He needed it, the thrills and scares and near misses. Slowly, they'd come to an understanding together. Astarion earned them extra money (that they didn't really need because of Gale's profession at the Blackstaff College) through small adventuring jobs, mercenary work, that sort of thing. Sometimes things got messy in a way that had him barely escaping with his life, but… He always wanted to come home to Gale. Performing that balancing act, to be himself, to thrust himself into danger and come out the other side (or not), and… still come home to Gale and their tressym and a couple of stray cats they'd adopted off the streets of Waterdeep. Izz'zen and Scratch had, funnily enough, scratched an itch Astarion hadn't known he'd had. The desire for a pet. Something to care for. To love.

He understood cats better than dogs.

"It was just… a nightmare about the tadpoles. And Cazador," he finally admitted with a hefty sigh. "Nothing really specific. Even in death, the bastard tortures me."

Gale pressed a soft kiss to the top of Astarion's head. "Mm, well, if he ever does manage to come back, he'll have to fight a wizard who is back at the top of his game. After all, I am an archmage again. I'll cast Disintegrate on him. Lovely little spell, that one."

Astarion laughed quietly, lifting his head ever so slightly to press his nose into Gale's neck and breathe deeply of his scent. "I don't think we'll need that, darling, but I do like that idea. My big bad wizard protecting me like I'm the sweetest, prettiest damsel in distress. Won't you rescue this princess from his tower, Gale?"

Gale chuckled. "I don't know if I want to rescue you from this tower," he said, eyes dancing with amusement, "Given we both live here. Are you saying you don't want to live with me anymore?"

Astarion smirked. "Maybe. Perhaps I simply can't stand you and your libraries anymore. So dusty and old," he taunted.

"Oh, like yourself?"

Astarion gasped. "Well! See if I sleep with you again," he said haughtily, nightmare quickly fading from memory now in favor of a battle of wits with his husband.

Husband. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to that. He glanced at the simple, elegant ring on his finger, and smiled.

"I love you," he said softly. Then he turned his head up to kiss Gale, pressing their foreheads together a moment later to smile.

"I love you too. I doubt either of us are getting any more sleep tonight, so! What say you we go cause a little trouble, hm? I don't have classes to teach tomorrow—or later today," Gale suggested, glancing at the clock. "I could use a skosh of adventure. Keep my heart running."

"You do have to remind it every once in a while that things could be worse," Astarion said with a smirk. "Come on, then, I know the perfect place."

"We're not going to the Yawning Portal."

Astarion's eyes gleamed.

"Oh, gods, you have something worse in mind, don't you?"

Astarion smirked, pulling away and beginning to dress.

Gale groaned, but rolled up and started dressing as well, silently dumping some food into the cats' bowls and leaving a note for Tara.

Neither of them would get any more sleep for the night, no, but they'd still won. Life was better. And neither of them would trade it for anything.