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There were so many “firsts” you were going to help him experience again. Curing Astarion of vampirism had been an uphill battle to begin with, so you were going to enjoy the fruits of your effort.
His first breath was among your favorite moments after he was cured. It was so silly. He had forgotten what it was like to need to do so, and had been very confused as you had to walk him through the process after a century of undeath, but you had been there for him.
You would always be there for him.
His First Meal
His first meal was to be grand. This was a process long in the planning. You had “borrowed” a cookbook from Gale on your last visit to Waterdeep with Astarion, and picked up every ingredient that vampires were unable to consume.
You were going to cook up a storm. His first meal had to be special. You and your friends had worked so hard to cure Astarion, exchanging letters back and forth to the place Shadowheart had been residing, to Waterdeep, and to Reithwin Town where Halsin was rebuilding.
From artifacts, to spells, to ancient tomes, you had exhausted every avenue in your effort to pursue your promise to Astarion.
You had promised him he would walk in the sun again.
This would prove a taxing endeavor. Astarion remained patient as you poked and prodded him to get blood samples, or to test out some benign artifact that Gale had sent over.
It was a full two years after your adventure that a solution was found. A cure found in an old, weathered book in Reithwin's library. A potion. Easy enough to make, though the ingredients were difficult to track down.
You had left Astarion behind begrudgingly, as he couldn't travel during the day, to find the ingredients. A night orchid’s stem. Holy water from a Grove blessed directly by Silvanus. Vampire Lord’s dust (the only good thing Cazador ever contributed) Weavemoss grown a very particular type of way. Bark from a cursed tree, and many more odds and ends that sent you all over Faerun and took 6 whole months to collect. You even had to go to Waterdeep for a specific kind of cheese? That was one of the weirder Ingredients.
You cast your mind back, as you cooked, to the moment you had returned with all the ingredients. Astarion refused to leave your side even as you brewed the potion. He was paler than usual and his eyes were more gaunt as well. You suspected he hadn't fed much in the six months you'd been on the road. You reprimanded him later for this, saying there were plenty of criminals in Baldurs Gate to sup on in the meantime.
When he partook in the potion, you could practically see life return to his face. His complexion became rosier as the stagnant blood in his system rushed through his veins. His eyes softened and faded to a vibrant lavender color, speckled with gold flecks, which had made you gasp softly. He had said, long ago, that he didn't remember the color of his eyes. You didn't understand how anyone could forget such gorgeous eyes. They were mesmerizing. Like little nebulas covered in stars
He had sat there, silently, after the potion had coursed through his system. He had looked up at you meekly, his eyes betraying a vulnerability he showed only to you. You had hugged him, peppering kisses all over his face. He radiated warmth now, which was not unwelcome, if a little unnerving after years of coldness.
That's how you got to where you were now. Chopping onions over a soup pot bubbling to the brim with a rich, hearty stew. To the left of you was bread smothered in oil and butter with garlic mashed on top. To your right, a cinnamon cream tart you had slaved all day baking. A feast that would kill a vampire, almost ready for your elven lover.
Elven . Not vampire lover anymore.
The thought made you absolutely giddy.
When the stew was finished, you plated everything up to the best of your ability, on fabulous silver trays, to add to the experience. A fat slab of garlic bread in one corner, a large steaming bowl heaped high with your vegetable stew, and a slice of the cinnamon tart in the opposite corner. The silverware was immaculately laid out for the meal.
When you exited the kitchen to place the tray on the table, you were surprised that Astarion wasn't at the table like he had been only fifteen minutes ago when you checked on him. You sat the tray down gently on the table and wandered off, calling his name.
When you found him, he was in the den, staring at himself in the mirror by the door. His gaze was so fixed on his reflection that he didn't even hear you come up behind him.
“Astar-”
He jumped, startled by your voice. He clutched his chest and whipped around to look at you.
“Oh…it's just you, darling. Don't startle me like that.”
You chuckled, reaching for his hand. Then you realized how alarming it must have been to not be able to see you coming up behind him, and your heart ached slightly.
“I'm sorry, Astarion. I'll keep that in mind. I'm not used to this either, yet.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly.
He brought your hand up to his face and placed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “It will be a learning experience, all of this. Promise you'll be patient with me.”
You brushed an errant curl away from his cheek and gazed into his eyes. They may have changed, but the man underneath was still the same. He needed the same reassurance he had needed after facing Cazador and refused the ritual.
“Of course. I'm here for you, Star.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Whatever you need.”
A loud growl broke the tension between the two of you, and you laughed harder, pulling his hand with you. “And right now, you need to eat. ”
He flushed, clearly embarrassed. “That was me ? Oh how mortifying. I've forgotten how hunger feels…” He allowed himself to be pulled back towards the dining room.
You maneuvered him into the chair as quickly as you could, a wide grin threatening to split your face plastered over your mug.
“So for your first meal.” You started, Handing him a cloth which he begrudgingly tucked into his shirt. “I made a stew my mother used to make for me. Leeks, potatoes, carrots, onion, and slow stewed beef. For your side, a garlic bread with rosemary and thyme oil. And then finally for dessert, a cinnamon clove cream tart.”
“Another thing your mother used to make?” He asked, his voice soft with awe.
You nodded, and sat by him eagerly. “I wanted to have you try a taste of…home.” You said, your neck burning. Now that you said it out loud, you were a bit embarrassed.
He leaned over the tray, taking a deep breath to get the full palate of smells emanating from the tray.
“it smells heavenly. I can see the hours in the kitchen were spent wisely.” He reached for your hand, and smiled as he looked into your eyes.
You looked down, trying to avoid his piercing purple gaze, but he reached over and lifted your chin up. He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, chuckling deep and low in his chest.
“Darling, I can't thank you enough. This ‘taste of home’ is just what I need. This might become my favorite meal.”
Picking up the spoon to the side of the tray, he dipped it into the steaming stew. It disappeared beneath the viscous liquid and came up with a chunk of potato and carrot, with a sliver of onion hanging off the spoon. you couldn't take your eyes off his face. He looked so beautiful. Of course, he had always looked beautiful. But this was an especially beautiful version of him.
His newly rosy cheeks, his stunning lavender cosmos eyes, and his absolute focus on consuming the meal you had prepared for him.
When he finally took a bite, he made a humming sound. “This is…delicious.” He said, covering his mouth with his hand to hide the fact his mouth was still full of food. “You said this was your mother’s recipe?”
You nodded, thankful he apparently hadn't noticed your reverent staring. “Right, yea. She used to m-make it for me when I was sick.”
He took another bite, his eyes closing in delight as he chewed. You were lucky he hadn't forgotten how to chew.
You stood up suddenly, walking over to your cabinet to pull out a bottle of Blingdenstone Blush you had been saving for just such an occasion.
“Would you like a drink?” You asked, shaking the bottle in his direction.
He chuckled, sensing your embarrassment and attempt at deflecting, but he went along with it, for your sake. “Yes, please. I would very much enjoy that.”
You turned away from him so he could enjoy his meal while you searched the cabinets for a glass. You could hear him behind you, continuing to enjoy the stew.
“You should try the garlic bread.” You spoke slowly, pulling a glass down from the uppermost cabinet and filling it with the alcohol.
He gazed up at you lovingly as you brought the glass to him. “If I was still a vampire, I'd accuse you of trying to kill me.” He joked, but lifted the bread towards his face. He smelled it deeply, grinning as he took a large bite.
“Mmmm….” His eyes fluttered closed, and you beamed, moving to go back to your seat. You were absolutely ecstatic That he was enjoying the meal.
You spent the night eating alongside him, chatting about other ‘firsts’ he wished to experience.
His First Bath And Rest
Being undead for so long had had such a profound impact on his life. He hadn't had a proper rest in a century or so. Elves didn't need to sleep anyway, merely meditation, but sleep was possible. However, as a vampire he hadn't needed it. He was positively ecstatic to try sleeping.
After dinner, you headed upstairs to your second floor to prepare the rooms for him. He followed eagerly, his face giddy with anticipation.
Your house, luckily, had been spared the brunt of the absolute's attack. You had lived in this house for many, many years before the events of your adventure, and you really liked it. It was your childhood home, after all.
It wasn't a manor, but was bigger than most lower city apartments, considering the size. There was a dining room, a separate kitchen that was admittedly rather small, a living room/den, and then a stairwell leading to the second floor hallway. This held the bedroom/study and the bathroom, but that was it. There was no mudroom, no library, nothing fancy.
It was enough for you, though. And Astarion had seemed just as content to live here with you after the adventure.
Your first stop was the bathroom. Astarion had never had a proper bath in his undeath. Sure, he had bathed, with cold water and soap, but since running water was a no-go for vampires, he hadn't had a proper cleaning that he could be satisfied with. Not to mention access to proper grooming tools.
You had bought said tools just for this occasion. You actually had a shower head installed, rudimentary as it was. You weren't sure if it would get used yet, or not.
You were sure that Cazador (you hated even thinking his name) had Astarion primp and groom himself to lure people back, but this bath would be his first foray into his own grooming regiment. He could decide how to do his care.
You laid out the various hair gels, shampoos, And body scrubs you had bought for this occasion while Astarion looked over your shoulder.
“Salt scrub?” He asked curiously, picking up one of the jars and squinting at it. You almost chuckled. Would elven Astarion need glasses? You hadn't thought that maybe his eyesight had been affected by his vampirism.
You nodded. “I wasn't sure what all you would like to use. So I just bought everything the lady recommended.”
He turned the jar over to read the faded label. “You may have bought too much, dear…but I appreciate the thought.” He walked away from you as you tested the temperature of the bathwater running currently.
Once you were done with that, you looked over at him to tell him it was ready, only to find him once again transfixed on his reflection. He was tapping his cheek, as if to reassure himself he was really alive.
You walked up behind him and embraced him, partaking in the newfound warmth.
“You're alive, Astarion.”
He nodded, but kept staring at his reflection. “I know…I know. I'm just still not…used to this. Do you…prefer me, this way?” He asked.
“I prefer you as you are, Astarion. Whether vampire or elf. I just am so happy to be here for you while you get to re-experience life .” You nuzzled into his back, sighing in contentment. “I want to make these the best experiences possible.”
He spared one last glance at himself in the mirror, his eyes softening, before he turned in your embrace so you were face to face. “You already are, my love. Just by being here.”
You giggled. Then, reluctantly, you pulled away. “Well the bathwater is running and it's already at a decent depth. I was thinking I could wash your hair while you relax? I mean I've got all these shampoos here.” You picked up a random bottle, glancing at the label. “How does ‘Lilac Sunrise’ sound?”
Astarion nodded, looking at the bottle with interest. “Sounds delightful.”
You popped the lid off the bottle while Astarion disrobed quickly and stepped into the still-running bath. The bubbles from the products you had added covered him gently as he reclined to the best of his ability. The tub was smaller than the average tub, so he was scrunched up a bit, but he looked comfortable.
He dunked his head under the soapy surface to wet his curls for you. When he lifted his head, you wanted to laugh at his mop. They clung to his face and neck in wispy ringlets.
“You're so beautiful Astarion.” You said reverently.
Astarion sputtered a bit, but quickly regained his composure. “So good of you to notice.” he joked, rubbing his arms with one of the soap bars lying on the table near the bath.
“No, I'm serious” You got up to your feet and sidled between the bath and the wall, with the bottle of shampoo clutched in your hand. You laid a gentle hand on his chin so you could maneuver him into a position where you could see his whole scalp.
He was going a bit red at your praise, the newly-pumping blood rushing to his cheeks and shoulders, flooding him with warmth. “Ah yes…well…thank you, my dear.”
You poured a generous amount of the shampoo into your awaiting palm, the scent immediately filling the air. It wasn't a particularly heavy scent. Lilacs, with a hint of morning glories and lemon. A fitting scent, to be sure. Sunrises never smelled as sweet as Astarion, but this was close. You rubbed the shampoo in your hands, working it into a lather before reaching down.
“I'm going to start now. Let me know if I have to stop.” You gently started to scrub and scratch his scalp, rubbing the shampoo in as deeply as it would go. Astarion sighed blissfully as you did, denoting his contentment.
“Your hands work wonders.” Astarion lazily murmured, his voice barely a whisper above the rush of the running water.
You smiled and placed a ginger kiss on his forehead. The only part of him not covered in bubbles or soap. He sighed again at the sensation, his eyes closed and a smile flirting at the corner of his mouth.
A comfortable silence fell over you as you scrubbed at his scalp, leaving no itch unscratched. He sat there enjoying it, until he finally opened his eyes and quirked an eyebrow.
“I think my hair is clean, darling.” He said mirthfully.
You flushed, too embarrassed to admit you were enjoying pampering him. “Ah, yes. I will leave you to scrub your body and rinse off, then. I'll go to get the bed ready.” Another quick kiss to his temple and you fled the bathroom, setting the towels you had gathered on the tabletop as you rushed out.
The bed was still messy from the morning, Astarion may have not needed to sleep, and his meditation may not have made him move much, but you did. And you moved a lot. So the sheets were a mess, thrown hither and thither all over the room. You would be embarrassed further if you were entertaining guests, but luckily it was just you and Astarion tonight.
You gathered the sheets in a bunch and laid them out on the bed to straighten out. You perked up your ears to listen for Astarion coming out of the bathroom as you worked to get the bed ready, but your focus soon waned as your thoughts began to wander.
It was a beautiful night. Outside you could see the bustle of nightlife beginning. Before this, you would have been out there, with Astarion, getting ready for a long night. You had adjusted to a life spent in the night over the last two years.
That was no more. You and Astarion had so many daytime things to look forward to now that he was cured. You would miss it a bit, honestly. Nightlife wasn't always convenient, but it had been exciting. You recalled the time that you got caught counting cards at the Elfsong Tavern, and the two of you ended up in a brawl with six other players. The memory of it made you smile softly to yourself.
“I do so love it when you smile like that.” Astarion’s voice shocked you out of your reverie right as you finished placing the last pillow.
He stood, leaning against the doorway. He was wearing the towel you had left behind as pants, but not for long, as he crossed the room to rummage through the drawer you had designated as ‘his’. He pulled out a pair of loose fitting black trousers and slipped them on.
“I didn't hear you! The bed is ready, if you are. If you need help sleeping, there's some sleep potions in the cabinet.” You crossed the room to sling your arms around his neck. His curls were still wet, and they stuck to your fingers as you locked them together.
He buried his face in your neck. His favorite spot. His curls tickled your cheek as he did so, which made you giggle and try to move away. He kept you close, nuzzling deeper, taking a deep breath.
“Astarion?” You asked, suddenly worried.
He said something muffled into your neck, but you couldn't quite hear it.
He lifted his head finally to look you in the eyes. He cupped your face with both his hands and rubbed circles into your cheeks. “You are too good to me.”
Then he kissed you. He was always a great kisser, the way he caressed your lips with his like he was drowning and you were dry land, but there was something softer in his kiss tonight. Similar to the kiss you received that one night in the Shadow-cursed lands.
“You deserve every bit of it.” You mumbled against his mouth before pecking him on the lips again. Then you broke free and walked over to your bed to put the finishing touches.
You then flopped down into the freshly made sheets and rolled over to look at him. He was just standing there, looking amused by your antics. You beckoned him closer by patting his side of the bed.
“Come, sleep. I have a special surprise in the morning.”
“A special surprise, hmm?” He sauntered over, beaming.
You pulled him close to you as he laid down. “Yes. So you better rest up nice.” You yawned.
The two of you fell asleep together for the first time, your arms wrapped around his middle and his face smothered in your hair.
His First Sunrise
Astarion had already experienced many sunrises, you knew this. Even As a vampire he experienced many rushing home to avoid the sun. So this just made it all the more imperative that you make this sunrise special.
That is why, you woke up three hours before him, and were in the kitchen cutting up fruit in the dark. You were preparing a picnic to take with you somewhere special.
It was still dark out when you woke Astarion, grumbling and groggy. You dragged him out of bed, carrying that heavy basket, and guided him outside.
Then, to his surprise, you started climbing. Climbing the trellis on the side of your house, with just one hand, as your other was carrying the basket.
“What are you doing?” He called, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking up at you
“C'mon! Follow me!” You called back, laughing.
So he did. He climbed up the trellis after you. The trellis led all the way to the roof, which even in the darkness of the morning He could see was…not in the best condition. Very dangerous, with tiles loose and slipping.
“Uh…are you sure this is safe.” He asked, loitering on the edge of the trellis.
You nodded, patting the spot next to you. A tile slid out of place as you did so, and skidded down the sloped roof, tumbling off and shattering on the ground. Astarion raised an eyebrow.
You puffed up, indignant. “Yes, I'm sure it's safe! I used to do this all the time when I was a kid. It's my favorite spot in the whole house. C'mon!”
Begrudgingly, Astarion pulled himself up off the trellis and crawled across the roof to you.
“See? Safe.” You scooted over so he had more room.
“Yes yes…now, care to tell me why we are up here? The suns not even out yet.” He yawned.
You clapped. “Exactly! Welcome to your first non-vampiric, non-tadpoled sunrise!” You pulled the basket in front of you. “I spent all morning cutting up some fruit for us to snack on while we wait for the sun to rise up here.”
He visibly softened at that, and chuckled again. “Oh, my love. You will never cease to surprise me.” He cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a light kiss, but you pulled away quickly, not allowing him to. He looked confused, and even a little dejected, but you pressed your finger to his lips.
“I don't want you to miss a moment of your first sunrise.” You explained. He rolled his eyes, but took your hand instead, leaning on your shoulder as the two of you watched the distance. You popped a cherry in your mouth and handed him a sliced strawberry to apologize.
The sun was already rising, the tops of the buildings being bathed in that warm glow that always accompanied it. You had spent many mornings up here as a child, so you knew this was the best spot to watch the sunrise.
You found, however, that the best sight was Astarion. As the world lit up slowly, he did as well. The gold flecks in his eyes shone like stars in a lavender galaxy as the sun bore its rays down upon the two of you.
You leaned back against him in kind, your head atop his. The moment was perfect. He was perfect.
And you were going to experience so many firsts with him.