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The Shadow-Cursed Lands were as the druid Halsin had described. Miserable, oppressive, cloying. The air itself felt like a twitching hand wrapped around a throat, waiting for the opportunity to choke the life from any creature it could. The lingering sense of dread at Last Light was palpable, made only more prominent by the hushed voices and stoic countenances of Harpers and refugees alike.
Yet none of these were the source of Astarion’s gloom as he sat alone in the ramshackle inn, arms folded over his chest as his sharp eyes scanned the usual crowd. No, the darkness he could stand. The fear he could stand. Hells, he could even stand the overwhelming sense of hopelessness in the air. For these were all things he’d experienced in abundance in the palace of Cazador Szarr, and so he’d built up a certain amount of tolerance for them. Whatever the Shadow-Cursed Lands could throw at him, he’d had worse.
No, what was driving him mad was beyond any misery the Shadow Curse could possibly inflict: the memory of Tav’s warm body filling his arms as he drifted to sleep, her auburn hair cascading over his shoulder as her head rested on his arm. And the soft thrum of her heartbeat, easing him into a peaceful rest…
Stop it.
He clenched his jaw as he forced the thought away for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. He’d come to the inn’s tavern to get away from it. To be deafened by the sound of a crowd’s worth of heartbeats. He needed a monumental distraction from the horrifying revelation he’d had that day: he knew Tav’s heartbeat, for lack of a better term, by heart.
The realization had come, swift and terrible, when they’d been scouting out the Reithwin tollhouse. The party had briefly split up, and Astarion became conscious of the fact that, while he could only vaguely tell where the other two party members were in the building, he knew exactly where Tav was at any given moment. You see, every third beat of Tav’s heart was just slightly quicker than the two prior and the fourth held a certain resonance that…
Astarion groaned and buried his face in his hands. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t part of the plan. It was bad enough that he’d begun to have real feelings for Tav. This whole business with her heartbeat was simply too much.
At that moment, his ears perked up. He could hear it. He could hear her. The edges of his senses seemed to blur, zeroing in on the thumping sound he knew for a fact was coming from Tav’s chest. The audible clutter he’d surrounded himself with melted away like fresh snow in a raging inferno, and all that was left was Tav’s heart, unmistakable.
His eyes flicked from the floor to the main entryway and she appeared, her head thrown back in a laugh at something Karlach had said as they walked in together. Astarion felt a whirlwind of feelings rush through him all at once. The urge to lunge at her, to devour her, to feel her body pressed against his. But also the desire to hold her softly in his arms like he had when they’d slept through the night together. He was furious with her for being away from him for these last few hours. No, not furious. He was…relieved that she was there? No…happy to see her? His chest ached as he longed for the hypnotic pattern of her heartbeat to numb the agonizing heat in his mind and allow him to slip quietly into bliss.
Gods, get it together!
From across the inn, Tav’s bright eyes found him and she smiled. She mumbled something to Karlach, a drink order perhaps, before walking over to the little table Astarion had commandeered for himself.
“There you are, Star!” she said, pulling out a chair and plopping down. “I was wondering where you ran off to.”
Astarion attempted his customary devilish smile, but Tav’s heartbeat was too distracting, like when he would become aware of his own breathing back before he had turned. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her inner wrist and feel her pulse against his lips. He swallowed and realized she was staring at him, one eyebrow raised. She smirked wryly.
“You’re drooling. Are you hungry or something?” She flirtatiously stretched her head to the side, exposing her neck. Astarion’s eyes snapped to focus on the vein there, which bobbed in perfect unison with the sound of her heart pounding in his ears. He wiped his thumb across his lips and leaned towards her.
“You’re driving me mad,” he muttered under his breath. Her heart stuttered for a moment, but it didn’t show through her expression. It made Astarion’s knees weak.
“Mad, hm?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You must be starving.”
“Something like that.” He could almost feel her heartbeat in his own chest, as if it was pulsing new life into his long-dead heart. He leaned further forward, bracing himself against the table. “I need you, Tav.” Something in Tav’s eyes flashed with excitement and her heart rate accelerated. Astarion nearly lost himself in the new pace, a foggy haze overtaking him as Tav bit her lip. He felt himself smile. “My tent. Count to twenty and then follow me.”
She nodded wordlessly, but the sound of her racing heart was enough for Astarion to know her mind. He could still hear it as he exited the inn and turned towards camp. It disoriented him, even as he put distance between himself and her.
Any thoughts he’d had about suppressing his feelings dissipated like morning mist at high noon. All he knew was that he wanted to hold her, to press his ear against her chest and listen to her heartbeat all night long as he indulged in the most perfect, dreamless sleep. For what use would there be in dreams? He’d have Tav in his arms. Nothing else mattered.