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This was not what he had expected.
No one understood why Astarion wanted to control his tadpole instead of getting rid of it like the others thought best. Lae’zel was the worst, but even Karlach and Gale didn’t understand. Even with Cazador dead, there was still the little matter of the sun, running water, entering buildings without needing an invitation… all the limitations he’d accepted when he agreed to give up the ascension. As soon as the tadpole was gone, so was his immunity.
That was not supposed to involve falling into a coma when he didn’t make it out of the sun in time. He was supposed to burn, not drop to the ground unable to move. From what he could hear from the others, they were debating whether he was dead or just unconscious. To be fair, he was wondering the same thing. Weren’t coma patients not supposed to know what was going on around them?
He could forgive them for being a little distracted as Karlach’s engine went into overdrive. He wouldn’t have been able to hug her one last time anyway, but he did regret not being able to say goodbye as she burned out. He also regretted not being able to roll his eyes as Wyll made one last desperate plea for her to choose to live in Avernus, that he would go with her so she wouldn’t be alone. He couldn’t fault Karlach for saying no. if he’d been offered the choice between going back to living in Cazador’s mansion with him and trying to keep hidden or dying, he’d have chosen death, too.
Then it was Lae’zel taking off to lead the Rebels of the Comet with Orpheus and Kith’rak Voss. At least she’d be alive and in the kind of struggle that best suited her, a cause where her black and white views were correct. Tav suggested the rest of them head back to the Elfsong, pick up anything they left behind, and gather for one last party to toast the fallen and celebrate the survivors.
“You go on,” Wyll said. “I have something else I need to do. I promise, I will try to get there for the party at least, but this comes first. Anything of mine you need to clear out, you can give to my father if I don’t make it there in time.” Tav and Jaheira tried to talk him into coming with them, but Wyll just told them that what he needed to do was too important.
It wasn’t until he felt himself being lifted into the air and recognized Wyll’s scent that he realized Tav and the others had planned to just leave him there. That stung. Had they all forgotten, or just decided that he had joined Gale and Karlach on the list of the fallen? Even so, shouldn’t he rate a second burial?
“I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” Wyll said as he carried Astarion through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. “I’m sorry, I know it’s probably the last place you want to be right now, but if there’s anything that can help you now, your old home is the most likely place to find it. At least it should be empty.”
Astarion wasn’t so sure – his siblings had said they were going to the Underdark, but it wouldn’t surprise him if some of them had decided to stick around at least for a while while they reassessed the living hell they’d all endured. The servants would probably have left as soon as Cazador’s thrall broke; at least he hoped so. He wouldn’t put it past Cazador to have some kind of kill switch that meant that breaking the thrall would kill the servants. Still, Wyll was probably right about any cure or fix for his current problem being at the Szarr mansion if it was anywhere.
Most of his siblings were gone, but Violet had stayed. “What happened to Astarion? Does this have something to do with the giant brain thing?”
“Not exactly. Is there somewhere I can put him?” Wyll chuckled softly. “It needed to be done, but carrying him all this way has gotten quite tiring. Honestly, I was hoping that getting him into this darkness would wake him up. He collapsed because of being in the sun. Why he didn’t burn, I can’t explain.”
“Petras and Dalyria said that he was immune to sunlight now…” Violet said. “Come on. This way. A guest bed for when Master was pretending to be a normal if reclusive noble, not one of the entertainment rooms.”
“He was immune to sunlight the same way he avoided Cazador’s control. The tadpole we were given in an attempt to make us True Souls, but that we were shielded from. Destroying the giant brain thing also destroyed those tadpoles, so Astarion should be back to normal.” When Astarion woke up, he just might have to have words with Wyll for giving away his secrets so easily. That sort of information might have given him a valuable edge over his siblings.
“Oh.” Violet swung open a door. “Here. Lay him out on the bed, and we’ll see what happens when the sun goes down. Even with the magical wards, we could always feel a shift in the energy at sunset.”
Astarion had no idea how long it was until sunset, but he was sure that Wyll would take off and go join the others. There was still plenty of time to get to the Elfsong for the party. Sure enough, Wyll left.
And then Wyll came back. “I’ve got your things here, Astarion. When you wake up, you won’t have to hunt down anything you want to keep. The others asked me to tell you they were sorry for just leaving you and… oh, fuck off!”
The smell of sulfur filling the room reassured Astarion that it wasn’t directed at him. Mizora’s smirking laugh filled the room. “Well, well. Little pup breaks his leash and all of a sudden he’s forgotten any manners he had! Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“An old friend, no. You are not an old friend. We’re done. My powers are gone. I can feel it. Fortunately, you can’t take away the work I did with my father as a child, or the time and effort I put into maintaining my non-magical skills. I thrived after losing so much of what you gave me to the parasite. I’ll thrive again now. Go. Away.”
“Are you sure? One last little deal?” Mizora laughed again. “At least hear me out, pup! Your little vampire friend there. When he wakes up, he’s going to be back to a sad, pathetic little spawn. I can cure his vampirism entirely, or just give him the immunities he had with the tadpole…”
Right. Like the Blade of Avernus cared one bit about the monster. Getting him out of the sun cleared whatever debt he may have felt from being comrades in arms these past weeks. He’d traded his own father’s life for his freedom. Never mind that they had managed to rescue the duke; Mizora was probably just biding her time and would take him later. There was no way he was even tempted to give himself up for a vampire spawn.
“Damn you, Mizora. It’s truly impressive how you know every weakness. But the answer is no. I’ve seen Astarion’s growth. He’s no more a monster than Karlach was, even if he is a vampire spawn. We’ll figure out a way for him to adjust to his new circumstances without your help. And before you even suggest it: Karlach would never forgive me if I let you bring her back to life, knowing what it would cost me.”
“Figured you’d say that, but it never hurts to ask, right? Ta!” The sulfur smell dissipated as Mizora fucked off.
Wyll reached out, taking Astarion’s hand. “She’s an idiot. I doubt you heard any of that, but I meant it. You and I are both adjusting to a huge change in our circumstances, and I won’t blame you if you say no when you can, but I’d like to do that together.”
An hour later, Astarion could feel the change in the energy as the sun set… but he didn’t wake up. Disappointing, really. Especially with Gale having blown himself up – if anyone could have found a solution to this problem, it was him.
Or Violet, apparently, as she threw the door open a little breathlessly. “I found something! An old journal belonging to one of the vampire lords here even before Cazador. It described some weird interactions when vampires had to interact with illithids and didn’t end up becoming one of them. This coma was mentioned as one of the possibilities!”
“That’s great!” Wyll squeezed Astarion’s hand. “Does it say how to reverse it?”
“Well… that’s the downside.” Violet’s voice faltered a little. “It says that the vampire in question had ended up forming a psychic bond with a fellow victim, and the only way to wake him up was for the other victim to… to kiss him.” Interesting quandary. Astarion had to wonder if it was only one of the others in particular, if any of them would do, or if they’d have to find a way to get Lae’zel to not only come back to visit Faerun for a bit but to kiss him. Hopefully, Karlach and Gale no longer counted, Gale especially as his soul was supposed to have been destroyed in the explosion too. “Out of your whole party, who was he closest to? You’re the one who brought him here…”
“I would have said Gale or Karlach, before their sacrifices,” Wyll muttered. “Of the survivors…”
Astarion wanted to scream. Of the survivors, the answer was so obvious. Sure, he’d slept with Lae’zel and Halsin, but that was hardly any indication of getting close to them at all. Minsc was just insufferable. Shadowheart and Tav were okay, but they were going through their own stuff, together. Jaheira wasn’t bad, but he’d never liked her much when she was running around with the Bhaalspawn, and he was perfectly happy to continue avoiding her. Wyll was the only one he actually sought out to spend his time with who was still alive.
“I don’t know,” Wyll eventually said.
There was a smack, and Wyll cursed. “Maybe it’s the one who came back here to watch over my brother instead of celebrating with his friends? Go on. Give it a try.”
“I…” Wyll’s hand tightened around Astarion’s. “I’m so sorry, Astarion. I hope you’ll forgive me, because it does sound like this is the best chance for you to wake up, but I remember what you’ve said about other people treating your body like it’s not yours.”
Well. Wyll was getting thoroughly kissed back, if Astarion had anything to say about it. Fortunately, his body started to respond again as soon as Wyll’s lips touched his, enough to get his free arm up to hold Wyll in place long enough to show him that forgiveness was so not a problem.
“I’ll… leave you two to it, then. Welcome back, brother.” Violet slipped out, closing the door behind her.
Wyll pulled away, the joy and relief in his eyes fading as he took in Astarion’s face. “You look terrible. How are you feeling?”
“I heard everything. I heard the others abandon me, I heard you refuse, I heard you come back after leaving to get our things. I heard Mizora. I heard your reaction to Violet’s discovery.” He smirked. “I hope I made my feelings about you kissing me clear enough, but it means quite a lot that you remembered what I said after we met that disgusting blood merchant.”
“Clear… well, I did get that you weren’t upset, but I’m a bit fuzzier on where we go from here.” Fair enough, really, so was Astarion. “Are you hungry?”
He hadn’t been until Wyll said something, but now… “Why did you have to mention it? I suppose I’d better go hunt before I get too much weaker.”
“Stay.” Wyll undid the laces on his shirt, pushing it out of the way. “Take what you need from me. Then we can figure out what comes next.”
“Are you sure? I’m sure I can find something more…”
Wyll shook his head with a soft smile. “I’ve seen the difference between when you’re on different types of blood. After fighting the Elder Brain twice in one day, I saw how badly off you were. Then collapsing like that… you need human blood, and you’re not going to have to fight me or prowl around and jump some unsuspecting criminal who might thrash and hurt you more. Go on. I planned ahead.” He pulled a potion out of his pack that had Astarion shaking his head and grinning. Lesser Restoration.
Once Astarion had taken enough to strengthen him, he pulled off with a sigh. As expected, Wyll’s blood was rather sweet and rich, but still delicious. After downing his potion, he was also none the worse for it. “If you’re serious about sticking together while we figure out what comes next for us, is this going to become a habit?”
Wyll shrugged. “Probably not an every night thing, but a habit? I could see that. I should warn you, though, I’m planning on spending quite a bit of time in Avernus.”
“One of the few things Avernus has to recommend itself: no sunlight.” Wyll snorted. “I suspect Violet won’t mind if we stay here when we need a break, or to use as a place to stash extra supplies.”
“True… I’d been thinking I would stay with my father, but to be honest, I’m not sure how he’d feel about you. Plus, the Ravengard home? Lots of windows. Father likes being able to see the city.” Wyll grinned at Astarion. “Are you sure you want to stay here? Two hundred years of shit is hardly a recommendation, even with the lack of sunlight and wards.”
As tempting as it was to burn this place to the ground, he’d gotten his important revenge. Cazador was dead. His siblings were figuring out their own lives. He wondered how Leon was handling his daughter’s death, but dismissed that quickly. It didn’t matter. What mattered was whether he and Wyll could move in here without Astarion feeling horrible every day from the memories. “I’m going to want to trash certain rooms, for sure, if Violet hasn’t done it already. The kennels, for one. This part up here, where Cazador played the noble? I barely spent any time here. I should be fine. And if not, we can always burn it down later, right?”
“Right.” Wyll yawned, and Astarion looked hard at him. When was the last time Wyll had eaten anything? Maybe he grabbed something when he went to the Elfsong? “What? This is probably quite a reasonable bedtime for someone who’s stormed the Elder Brain’s lair and fought it twice.”
“Just wondering if you thought to eat anything since that feast Gale conjured to prepare for the storming.” From the look on Wyll’s face, the answer was no. “If there’s any food in the packs, it’s probably safer than anything around here.”
Wyll dug in the pack, coming out with some beef jerky and dried fruits that he ate quickly. “Gonna miss Gale’s cooking, that’s for sure. I’m competent, but that man was a wizard with a campfire.”
“Right.” That would probably hold Wyll until morning, but Astarion was going to go out shopping as soon as possible. “Come on. Get in here.”
“Um…”
“You need sleep, I’m feeling much better, that’s all. I know you’re more interested in the romantic side of things, which means taking everything slow before any lines get crossed, which is fine by me. If you’re not even comfortable with sharing the bed while you fall asleep, that’s fine, I can take the chair.” Astarion started to swing his legs out of bed, stopped by Wyll’s hand as he got in beside him. It was quite nice, really. This was going to be interesting to figure out.