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It felt like a heavy burden had finally left his shoulders – or rather, his undead heart. As if he could finally breathe again – no matter if he actually needed it or not.
No more lies. No more pretence.
‘We can be together without sleeping together, for as long as you need.’
Be together.
The words wouldn’t leave Astarion’s mind. He didn’t have a single clue of what that meant, what it entailed. Was he supposed to do specific things now? Like holding her hand or whispering sweet nothings into her ear?
Not that he didn’t want to do that – on the contrary, the idea was quite enchanting. But he didn’t want to have to do it just because it was expected.
Resting against a log in front his tent, Astarion was observing the strange ballet of his companion’s dinner. He could have joined them to shared a glass of wine and sit beside whatever odorous stew Gale had prepared. But the vampire spawn wasn’t in the mood right now, and the stench of garlic was still itching his nose. Why was the wizard so adamant in using garlic anyway, if not to keep him away?
It was only by chance if Ellith had decided not to eat last night, or else he wouldn’t have been able to feed from her wrist.
And now he was feeling bad again. That damn guilt gnawing at his guts, thinking about the blood she had given him while sleeping on an empty stomach.
Guilt.
A feeling that was alien and familiar at the same time, after two hundred years burying this specific emotion beneath layers and layers of pretence, tricking himself into believing that he felt nothing. No pain, no need, and the torments inflicted to others had meant nothing. He had had no power on it anyway.
But things were different now, weren't they? He could finally allow himself to feel and to act upon his feelings. A certain form of power through his own self-agency.
Lost in his thoughts, Astarion didn't even realise his eyes were fixed on Ellith, and that Ellith was staring back at him from the other side of the camp. She smiled, and he felt better already. Before long, she was leaving their companions to join him.
“May I sit with your, Astarion?”
“Always, dear.” He answered with a genuine smile, a strange warmth spreading through his cold limbs as Ellith sat against the log beside him, careful to not touch him.
They were both silent for a moment. Beyond the voice of their friends, the eerie, ominous sounds of this cursed land floated, a threat only repulsed by the flames of the torches and the campfire.
“Halsin said that the curse will soon be lifted now that Thaniel and Oliver are reunited.” Ellith said as if she was reading his mind, but her voice was so matter-of-factly that it rang almost like some sort of gossips.
“Good for them.” Astarion shrugged, staring up at the dark, starless sky. “All I want is to leave this land.”
“I know. So do I.” Ellith nodded. “But first: Ketheric.”
A deep sigh left his lips. He didn’t want to think about Thorm, about Moonrise and the Absolute. Not tonight.
Ellith was looking at him, her elbow on her knees and that unreadable face resting against her palm. Unreadable until she smiled again.
And then, as her smile turned into a mischievous smirk, Ellith bumped her shoulder against his arm.
He bumped back into her shoulder, mimicking her expression.
“Hey…” Ellith said softly.
“Hey…” He chuckled back.
Their gazes met, suspending the moment. A second. An eternity. Lost in each other’s eyes, as they say. A fluttering feeling in his chest.
“Now what…?” Ellith’s voice broke the strange spell. Ironical given that it was the same voice that usually casted spells.
“What what?”
“What should we do?” There was an unusual vulnerability in Ellith’s voice, and the uncertainty in her eyes was unexpectedly endearing.
“Kill Thorm?” Astarion offered, his tone unaffected.
“No… I mean, yes.” She scoffed. “But... what should we do about this.” Her hand moved between the two of them as to illustrate an invisible connection.
Invisible but real.
“Ah, yes… this.” Astarion nodded as Ellith’s words became clearer. “Well, first we should… uhm."
“You don’t know either, right?”
“I have no idea, dear.”
They both chuckled, a little embarrassed, a little amused by their unusual awkwardness.
Both of them were professional seducers. They knew how to use their body and words to lure, attract and tempt. But now, they were both speechless, both unsure, finding themselves unequipped for those specific feelings. Shy like the virgins they had forgotten they once were.
It was a terrifying sensation. But it was also tremendously exciting… Feeling something new, something unpredictable. The first time he had felt that way, a few weeks ago, Astarion had hated it, not being able to control the situation or to know how it would end. But now, he was enjoying it. A lot.
"How do you feel, darling? About this... about me?” Astarion ventured to ask, not sure what answer he was expecting.
Ellith didn't reply instantly. ”Hells, that's tricky... Much more than leading a group of illithid-infected freaks through a cursed land.
As often with Ellith, it was hard to tell if there was anything honest in her jest, but Astarion had been learning how to read her, and he could detect the irony in her words. Irony tainted with truth. He replied in kind.
“Look at the bright side, dear. At least my name is not on the Thorm family tree.”
Ellith snorted.
Joking together about the dire environment instead of talking about how they felt. Typical of both of them. Astarion had to focus.
“You didn’t answer me, darling.”
She winced, side-eyeing him and leaning a little closer at the same time – hesitantly. “I feel… I feel like I need to be close to you – not overly close – but… beside you. Sharing things with you.”
Ellith never failed to surprise him, especially when she spoke with that voice; beyond the hints of embarrassment, her voice sounded assertive not in the sense of fearless, but more like a creeping self-confidence that sometimes made her sound a little too casual. And she used that tone to say something so significant: that she wanted to stay beside him. No sex involved. "But why...?"
“Because it feels good. You make me feel good, Astarion.”
“I’m not even touching you.”
“You don’t have to touch me to make me feel good. I can’t explain it, but it's true.”
That fleeting sensation in his chest again, and her eyes now fixed on his face... He had to focus. “You’re a bard, Ellith. You’re supposed to know better about feelings and all that, aren’t you?”
A succession of melodious notes fell from her lips. “You know I’m not that kind of bard....” She sang playfully.
“What type?”
“The type who babbles about love songs and soppy stories. The romantic type.”
And there she had said it. Romantic stories. Love songs. Was it the nature of her feelings for him?
Astarion slowly reached out to tug a wild curl behind her ear. “Not your type, perhaps. Still, it doesn’t mean you cannot feel such things, does it?”
His own voice was unexpectedly soft. He wasn’t even trying. His fingers remain against her cheek a little longer than necessary before he pulled away.
“I don’t know… I cannot even remember if I’ve ever felt this before.”
For a fraction of second, he was tempted to tell her – to remind her who she used to be. To tell her about the day they had met, decades before, when she was a very young streetwalker. Way too young for that. To tell her about that second meeting some years ago, how uncanny she had seemed to him. How threatening...
No. He couldn’t tell her. Not yet. In fact, he was hoping she would remember on her own when they’ll reach Baldur’s Gate. After all, it wasn’t his responsibility... or was it?
“Astarion? Are you alright?” she asked as he stared silently at her old earring.
“Hm? Yes!” He shook his head, taken out of his silent contemplation. “I was just thinking how lucky I was to find you.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. In their dire situation, there was something of an unexpected luck in the way they had found each other. Or so he thought.
Another melodious laughter fell from her lips, louder this time, genuine but with echoes of cynicism.
“What is it this time?” Astarion asked, smirking despite the slight frown on his brow. “What is funny about it.”
“You are.” She smiled. “I didn’t expect you to mention something as flimsy as luck, especially when it comes to us. But it’s still better than fate, I suppose. At least it doesn’t rob us from our free-will.”
Ellith didn’t believe in fate, that he knew. Hated the idea of things happening because they were supposed to happen, bound to an ineluctable destiny. Even if Astarion wasn’t sure what to think of the concept, he couldn’t blame her for rejecting it so harshly.
“We did make choices. And luck found us through them.” He pondered, thinking of how their adventure would have evolved if they had both made different choices.
“It found us despite our poor choices.” She corrected with a wink.
“Poor choices? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He knew exactly what she was talking about.
Rolling her eyes, Ellith moved a little bit closer, not close enough to touch Astarion, just enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from her body.
“That's why I think I want to be more careful in the future, with my choices.” Her voice had dropped to a lower note, giving way to much more vulnerability and softness. She wasn’t teasing anymore. “I want to think about the consequences first.”
“Ellith?! Are you implying that you will be wise for now on?” Astarion, on the other hand, couldn't help teasing her.
“Nah, wisdom is boring.” She snorted.
“Good. It would have grieved me to see you discard that peculiar chaotic side of yours. It’s the funniest one.”
“Oh, I very much know that is the reason why you fell for me in the first place.” There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, but it hadn’t completely replaced the more serious and vulnerable depths of her expression. “It’s just about thinking twice before deciding. Taking the possible consequences into account before doing anything. That’s what leaders should do, right?”
“Is it? And I thought leaders just followed their whims and did whatever they pleased to satisfied their desires.”
“Poor leaders, maybe.”
"Oh, I forgot you were aiming for greatness.” He snapped sarcastically.
Ellith clicked her tongue. “You’re twisting my words, Astarion.”
Was he, really? Ellith had no recollection from her past, but she was arrogant and proud, she had expressed several time that she was expecting others to look up to her, not just as the leader of their little group, but as something... more.
Astarion didn’t insist, it clearly wasn’t the opportune moment for that. Besides, he couldn’t deny that there was something utterly tempting in greatness – or at least in the way he pictured it.
“Alright, darling, if you say so, let’s think twice before every decision.” He said dramatically.
Ellith was silent, but the way she was looking at him made it clear that she wasn’t joking anymore, she was dead serious and expected Astarion to take her seriously. Yes, he knew that look.
“Apologies, sweetheart. I’m listening.”
After a slow nod of acceptance, Ellith took a deep breath. “I need to think about this... us."
Astarion’s chest tightened, curiosity rising, tainted with worry. He said nothing.
“I told you I didn’t know those feelings, and I don’t know how to deal with them, and it’s intimidating. It’s scarier than jumping into the void, because I’m not jumping alone, I take you with me. And I don’t want to drag you into a place that might turn out to be dangerous, harmful, and toxic.”
Astarion was confused. “Being with you doesn’t feel toxic, Ellith. Dangerous maybe, but danger is always just around the corner nowadays. You…. your company, it doesn’t make things worse, it alleviates them.”
She tilted her head and gave him a sad smile. That’s when Astarion finally saw how scared she was – her fears usually hidden beneath layers of pride and cynicism. How did he miss it? After all, she had all the reasons to be scared, trapped between the urge, the cult and the tadpole, just like he could be trapped again if Cazador... No, he didn’t want to think about that possibility.
She didn’t seem to believe him, shrugging his words away. It didn't stop him. “Darling… I don’t know better than you do. This is all uncharted territory for me too. I told you already that I didn’t know what we are doing, but there is one thing I know: Whatever it is, I want to do it with you.”
Everything seemed to darken around them, in this land that already impossibly dark, but it didn't seem to bother her.
“I need time, Astarion. To figure things out.”
“We don’t need to rush anything. I don’t want to rush anything. But it doesn’t mean we cannot try.”
“Try what?”
He found no appropriate answer. He had no idea what being with her should imply. Astarion opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to find the right words, but none seemed to reflect his feelings.
Ellith let out a quiet laugh as she watched him struggle to answer. “You see? We’re both at loss here. It’s like trading through the dark with no real objective.”
“We don’t need an objective!” he immediately interjected. “Darling, trading the dark with you is nice in itself. A little bit scary indeed, but enjoyable.”
“What If I hurt you in the dark?”
Astarion thought again about the Ellith he had met some years before: menacing, intimidating, unimpressed by his specific nature but oh so impressive in her own way. She was still strong-willed and sometimes violent , but it didn’t make her ultimately dangerous, not when she could express affection and care like she had done in the past few weeks.
“What if I do?” He snapped back, unwilling to be seen as a victim of her violence despite that dreadful night when he had needed to tied her up to make sure she wouldn’t disembowel him. “I’m a predator, darling. Each time you let me feed from you could be the last.”
A confused look spread across her features as if she had never considered the situation from this perspective, even though he had almost killed him that first time. “You’re not the only one holding back a dangerous hunger.”
And suddenly, Astarion realised how important it was for him to make her acknowledge it. Their relationship, whatever it was, was equally dangerous. They were both instinctive killers. “But I don’t want to hurt you… and I think… you made clear that you didn’t want to hurt me.” He mumbled.
He suddenly found himself utterly vulnerable, just like that night when he had told her about his attempt at manipulating her, and about his feelings.
“I don’t want to hurt you! Never!” She immediately replied, taking his hand in a movement that seemed instinctive. “That’s why I think I should… step away a little. To make sure I’m ready for such feelings, and this thing we have. If only to understand what’s happening and make sure you are... safe.”
Astarion’s gaze fell onto her hand which was holding his with such a desperate grip, as if she was afraid he would suddenly disappear.
“Step away? From me?”
A wave of panic invaded him, something that reminded him of the the fear of punishment he could expect when he had disappointed Cazador. He gritted his teeth and managed to swallow back the tension, at least for now. “Did I do something…?”
“No!” Ellith was trying to keep her voice low, but barely succeeded. “Not from you. From the threat I could become..."
"Ellith. Enough with this."
“You don’t understand.”
“What?!" Astarion finally exploded. “Because I don’t have voices in my mind telling me to do things I don’t want to do?”
She nodded, reluctantly.
“Darling… I’m free from coercion for now. But I know what it means to have a voice urging you to…. to do things, horrible things. And I know you are stronger than that. You proved it, a few nights ago, when you decided not to kill me.”
He saw the corner of her lips turn down, as if she was repressing a sob he could nonetheless hear. Standing up, Ellith turned away from him, visibly uncomfortable with this new wave of vulnerability.
Astarion hesitated.
She was keeping herself away. But he could feel the pain and fear oozing from her skin, and he couldn’t just sit here and ignore that the only person he had ever truly cared for was struggling so much.
But reaching out to her… wouldn’t it make the two of them even more pathetic?
He stared at her back, his sharp senses allowing him to detect how much she was trying to control her breath, letting him see her muscles tense as Ellith tried to rein back her emotions.
“I’m not like that!” She suddenly snapped, even though Astarion hadn’t even moved or said anything. She wasn’t looking at him, her back stubbornly turned to him. “I’m not fragile, I don’t need to be saved! I’m not expecting anyone to play prince charming helping the princess in distress!”
It hurt. Astarion couldn’t really explain why but hearing Ellith talk like that with her usual stubbornness… it felt wrong. And it was falling too close to home.
After a long moment of silence during which he watched her silhouette shiver in the dark, Astarion stood up and walked to stand behind Ellith. He didn’t know what he was doing. What he should be doing. What she was expecting him to do. And so, for one of the first times in his life – as far as he could remember – Astarion decided to follow his feelings instead of his instincts. The latter were urging him to run away from that fragility, but the call from his feelings was louder, and he accepted it.
“Ellith…Darling.” He found himself whispering, his hands reaching out to find her shoulders. “I don’t even know how to keep myself safe… do you really expect me to pretend I can save you from whatever is haunting you?”
Against all odds, Ellith chuckled, those specific chuckles she let out when she was embarrassingly amused. Astarion kept his hands on her shoulders as he stepped closer, just enough to feel her heat, a few inches away from his body. “My dear, deadly bard, there’s no damsel in distress in this story, no prince charming and probably no happy ending.”
He felt her relax beneath his palms. “A story with no happy ending?” She snorted sarcastically. “My favourite.”
One more step and Astarion was closing the distance between the two of them, his chest against her back, and his brow resting delicately against the back of her head. Ellith was immobile, but no longer tense.
“You are the bard. You will figure out what to do with this story.” He whispered.
“What if I lack inspiration?”
“I’m willing to help with that.” His lips were brushing against her red curls, and it took him all his willpower to just not dig his face into the heavy, silky strands.
She seemed to consider his words, and Astarion felt her lying back, almost imperceptibly, as if her body was seeking to connect with his. When Ellith spoke again, Astarion could detect the shadow of a smile in her voice. “In this case, it would become our story.”
“Darling... that sounds perfect.”