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»—100 years before—«
Astarion liked to surround himself with a particular type of crowd. He prowled the streets and taverns of Baldur's Gate, seeking out the easiest to manipulate and control. Drunkards, vagabonds, and the lonely became his primary targets, their vulnerabilities making them perfect prey. Astarion's charm made it easy for him to ingratiate himself with these people, gaining their trust with sweet words and promises of companionship. It was one of his favorite skills to use.
To the unsuspecting, Astarion appeared as a beacon of kindness in their bleak lives, offering a listening ear and a warm smile. In truth, each gesture was calculated, each interaction a step closer to delivering another soul to Cazador's lair. The victims, enthralled by his attention, never saw the danger inside him. They followed him willingly, unaware of their future fate.
The bustling city, teeming with life and opportunity, provided a constant stream of potential victims. Astarion moved seamlessly through the crowds, always looking for the next lonely soul. This was his life. It repeated every night until sunrise.
One evening, as Astarion wandered through the dimly lit streets, his eyes caught sight of a small, shabby fortune-telling stand. Its owner, a middle-aged woman with a tired expression, sat behind a table cluttered with worn tarot cards and a cloudy crystal ball. She called out to passersby, but few paid her any heed. Her voice, though soft, held a note of desperation, and her clothes, once vibrant, were now faded and threadbare. She was alone, isolated, and clearly struggling. She fit his criteria perfectly.
Astarion's curiosity was piqued. This woman, struggling to attract customers, seemed like an easy target. He approached her, his movements graceful and his smile disarming.
"Good evening," he said, his voice smooth and warm. "Might I inquire about my future?"
The fortune teller's eyes lit up with hope. She gestured to the chair opposite her. "Of course, sir. Please, sit down."
Astarion took the seat, sliding payment over to the woman. The fortune teller began to shuffle her cards, her hands trembling slightly with a mix of anticipation and nerves. As she laid out the cards, she spoke in a hushed tone.
"I see a journey ahead," she murmured, her eyes scanning the designs of her tarot cards. "One filled with danger and choices. You will meet many along this path, but one figure stands out above the rest." She paused, drawing a card with a flourish and revealing the image of a wizard.
Astarion leaned forward, feigning interest. His eyes glinted in the dim light as he listened to the woman's prophecy.
"A wizard, you say?" he murmured. "How intriguing. Wizards are known for their wisdom and power, aren't they?" He allowed his gaze to linger on the fortune teller for a moment.
The woman nodded, her hands still moving over the cards. "Yes, this wizard will play a significant role in your journey. They will be both a guide and a challenge."
Astarion's smile widened, a touch of mischief in his eyes. "You know, I've always found wizards fascinating. Their knowledge, their mysteries. Perhaps..." He paused, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Perhaps you might be the wizard in my life, guiding me with your insights."
The fortune teller blinked, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Oh, I…I am just a simple fortune teller," she stammered, clearly flustered by his attention.
Astarion chuckled softly. "Nonsense. You have the gift of foresight, the ability to see what others cannot. That is a rare and precious talent." He stares into her eyes. “Apologies, I never asked your name.”
The fortune teller's gaze softened under Astarion's intense stare, her cheeks still flushed from his earlier flirtation. She hesitated for a moment, looking around, then leaned forward.
"Call me Elara," she finally replied, her voice a whisper. "Elara the Seer, they call me in these streets."
"A pleasure to meet you, Elara," Astarion said smoothly, leaning back in his chair with a faint smile playing on his lips. "Your talents are indeed impressive, and your insights intriguing." He gestured subtly to the scattered cards on the table. "Tell me, Elara, would you accompany me for a drink at the Elfsong?”
Elara hesitated, her eyes flickering between Astarion's face and the modest setup of her fortune-telling stand. "I... I don't usually leave my stand unattended," Elara murmured.
Astarion's smile remained gentle, his gaze unwavering. "Of course, Elara," he replied smoothly, his tone understanding yet persistent. "But surely, even a seer such as yourself deserves a moment of respite. A chance to enjoy the company of someone who appreciates your talents."
Elara chewed on her lower lip, her fingers absently tracing the edges of a tarot card. "Perhaps just for a moment," she finally conceded, her voice barely above a whisper. A small smile flickered across her lips, tinged with nervous excitement. "But I must return before too long. The night is still young, and there are fortunes yet to be told."
Astarion's expression brightened, a spark of triumph gleaming in his eyes. "Of course, Elara. A moment is all I ask." With a graceful motion, he stood and extended his hand to her. "Shall we, then?"
She took his hand, unaware of her cold future.
»—Present time—«
Astarion doesn't remember much from his time being a spawn. Memories of those years come in fragments, often blurred by the passage of time. He recalls flashes of faces or brief moments of struggle.
A year ago, Astarion's life took an unexpected turn when he was infected with a Mindflayer tadpole. It was during this tumultuous time that Astarion crossed paths with Gale. Their meeting was less of a grand encounter and more of a serendipitous alignment of their fates. Astarion was wandering the wilderness, still coming to terms with the tadpole inside his head, when he stumbled upon Gale in the midst of a magical experiment gone awry.
Seeing a potential ally in Gale, Astarion decided to offer his assistance. He didn’t expect to become friends with him, only use him to help get rid of the tadpole. However, over time, their partnership grew into a bond of mutual respect and trust. Together they ended up completing their goal.
With the threat of the Mindflayer tadpoles behind them, Astarion and Gale found themselves continuing to travel together. It was during these travels that Astarion and Gale's feelings for each other began to grow stronger. Gale's fascination with the arcane and his relentless pursuit of knowledge was a stark contrast to Astarion's more cynical and pragmatic approach to life, yet they balanced each other perfectly.
One evening, Gale confessed his love for Astarion. The declaration was passionate and sincere, and it caught Astarion off guard. For the first time in centuries, Astarion felt truly seen and cherished. Astarion surprised even himself when he reciprocated Gale's feelings.
Now, Astarion had moved in with him. As the fire crackled softly in Gale's study, Astarion stood by one of the tall bookcases, his fingers trailing over the spines of ancient tomes. The room was filled with the scent of old parchment and the faint hint of incense that Gale favored.
Gale sat at his desk, lost in thought as he meticulously scribbled notes in his journal. The quiet moments they shared like this had become some of Astarion’s favorites. Gale glanced up, watching him with a fond smile.
Astarion pulled a book from the shelf, examining its cover before turning to Gale. "I never tire of your collection," he remarked. "You have books here that I’ve never seen in all my years."
Gale chuckled softly, setting his quill down. "I’ve spent a lifetime gathering these," he said. "Each one has a story, a memory attached to it.”
Astarion moved closer, setting the book down. "Speaking of memories," he began, his tone shifting slightly, "I remembered something earlier. It was about a fortune teller I once encountered in Baldur’s Gate. Her name was Elara."
Gale’s interest was piqued. "A fortune teller? What did she tell you?"
Astarion's gaze grew distant as if he was peering back through the mists of time. "She spoke of a journey filled with danger and choices, and of a wizard who would play a significant role in my life." He paused, a small smile curving his lips. "I didn’t take her words seriously at the time. She was just another target, someone to be used and discarded."
Gale leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It seems her prophecy came true, in a way."
"Yes, it did," Astarion agreed, his grin softening.
Gale stood, crossing the room to stand beside Astarion. He placed a gentle hand on Astarion’s shoulder. “Perhaps Elara saw more than you realized."
Astarion leaned into Gale's touch, feeling the comfort and reassurance it brought. "Perhaps she did," he murmured. "It’s strange to think of how far I’ve come from those nights in Baldur’s Gate.”
Gale’s hand moved to cup Astarion's cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over his pale skin. "And I am grateful for every moment we’ve shared," he said softly. "You’ve brought a light into my life that I never knew I needed."
Astarion closed his eyes briefly, savoring the tender moment. When he opened them again, his gaze was filled with a mix of gratitude and affection. "And you’ve given me a chance at a life I never thought possible.”