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The night was cold and dark. Freshly fallen snow crunched under their boots as they made the short walk from the cottage to the crest of the hill. Astarion looked out over the dark landscape. It was familiar, yet strange at the same time. The lake stretched out before them, stars reflected on its glassy surface. An eerie quiet settled around them - even the forest animals seemed to be sleeping. Beside him, Tav bounced gently on her toes, trying to keep herself warm. She was dressed in many layers, a heavy woolen cloak around her shoulders for good measure. Astarion, by contrast, only wore a cotton shirt and pants. They were deep in the wilderness, far away from civilization or people, he didn’t have to hide what he was out there. Astarion‘s eyes scanned the horizon as he gripped the small glass bottle so hard his knuckles turned white. He had to fight the urge to throw it into the lake and watch it disappear under the icy surface.
‘This is going to work,’ Astarion told himself. ‘It will. It has to.’
Astarion didn’t believe it, though. Not really. This potion would be another failed attempt, another dream dashed, and he didn’t think he could face that again. Five years they had been travelling all over Faerun, exploring every possibility, begging every deity and demon they could think of, all for nothing. Nothing ever worked, and Astarion had lost hope. The potion in his hand was the only option they had left, and when it failed, he would refuse to try anything else. Of course, Tav would fight him on it. She always wanted to try one more thing. One more book, one more spell, one more protective charm. It was always one more thing. Astarion loved her for it, but he couldn’t bear another disappointment. After this, they would stay in their cottage in the hills and try to make a life for themselves, even if he had to do it in the shadows. Astarion turned the bottle over in his hand, watching the silvery liquid slosh around inside. Of course, he wasn’t going to throw it away, not when they’d worked so hard to get it.
The first signs of dawn appeared in the east, the inky black sky turning grey as dawn approached. Astarion’s stomach flipped over and he thought he might be sick. If he had a heart that beat, he was sure it would have been racing. He wanted this potion to work, despite what he told himself. Living in the dark was tolerable when he knew it was the only option, but when Tav suggested there might be a cure, a way for him to walk in the sun again, hope had bloomed in his heart. They had been so confident the first time, Astarion walked directly into the midday light as if he were invincible and was immediately humbled. He remembered how his skin sizzled like bacon in a frying pan, and he retreated like a dog with its tail between its legs. Astarion had grown less confident with every subsequent attempt, and although Tav always stayed outwardly positive, he couldn’t watch her blink back tears and hide her feelings behind a smile anymore. She was always strong for him, even when she didn’t need to be.
“This is it,” Astarion whispered.
Tav looked up from under her fur-lined hood and smiled at him, but it was a tight-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Astarion knew she was nervous, but she would never tell him so. “Are you ready?”
“Of course I’m not ready,” Astarion huffed. “But I am doing it anyway.” He took a deep breath before he popped the lid off the bottle and hesitated for just a second before he closed his eyes and downed the contents in one swallow. It was thicker than he thought it would be, but Astarion was surprised at how sweet and slightly tart it was. It vaguely reminded him of something he might have drank in his youth, possibly some home remedy for a cough his mother had given him. He tipped his head all the way back to make sure he got every drop of it. Once it was empty, he tucked the bottle into his pocket.
“And?”
“I don’t feel any different,” Astarion said, looking down at his hands. “I half expected my skin to glow or something.”
“That is disappointing,” Tav chuckled. “I’d love a glowing Astarion, it would be so easy to spot you in the dark.”
Astarion rolled his eyes, but smiled. They turned to face the horizon and watched as the sky turned grey, then light blue. He found it difficult to stand still. How he wanted to run back inside and just call this a failure. In an attempt to calm himself, Astarion took several deep, measured breaths. He felt Tav reach for his hand, her fingers sliding between his with ease.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Even if this doesn’t work, we’ll find something else.”
Astarion didn’t answer. He couldn’t, wouldn’t lie to her and say he had any faith in this potion, or that they would ever find a cure. Instead of speaking, he squeezed her hand and stepped closer to her, the warmth of her body comforting and calming. Together, they looked out over the snowy landscape and watched the sky, waiting for the sun to breach the horizon. Birds started to tweet in the trees around them as the sky took on a rosy hue. Astarion stopped breathing, his eyes shut tight as he waited to feel the sting of the sun. He was ready to flee into the cottage, where the curtains had all been drawn, at the first inkling of pain. Astarion was trembling from head to toe, but Tav’s grip on his hand was firm, a reminder that he was not alone. Her faith in this potion, and in him, remained solid.
Seconds passed, and though Astarion’s eyes were closed, he could feel the warmth of the sun’s rays on his face. He froze, waiting for the inevitable burning pain. A moment passed, and Astarion let out a breath as he realized his skin wasn’t sizzling, there was no pain. He opened his eyes slowly to find the sky awash with gold, orange and pink. The sun was halfway over the horizon, and the snow around them sparkled as if it was made of diamonds.
“It worked,” Astarion’s voice came out choked and hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Tav, it worked.”
Tav let out a long sigh and looked up at him, her face glowing with the golden morning light. Her blue eyes were large and round as dinner plates, all her teeth on display as she grinned at him. Wordessly, she pulled him closer and stood up on her toes to kiss him. Their first kiss in the sunlight in over five years. Astarion practically melted into her, into the softness of her lips and the love he felt in his heart. This was all possible because she believed in him. She loved him. She made him believe he was worth the effort. Astarion couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but kiss her back. The warmth of the sun seeped into him, reinvigorating him, and he couldn’t help the tear that ran down his cheek.
“I knew it,” Tav said against his lips. “I knew this was it.”
“I didn’t,” Astarion admitted. “I had no faith whatsoever.”
They parted, and Astarion opened his eyes. Tav looked so beautiful in the sunlight he could hardly stand it. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her eyes were as blue as pure sapphire. She brought one hand up to cup the side of his face. Astarion closed his eyes again and leaned into her touch as she brushed away his tears with her thumb. They kissed again, small quick pecks until Tav pulled away and dropped down on her heels. Astarion pressed one last kiss to her forehead and hugged her close to him. He looked out over the countryside, at the sparkling snow-covered trees and frozen lake. There was so much beauty in the world, and he would never take it for granted ever again.