Work Text:
There was a strange envelope in Tav's mailbox. Stuffed unceremoniously in between bills and city notices, it was unremarkable enough in appearance that anyone less observant might have paid it no mind if it weren't for a couple abnormalities. First, its lack of postage meant it had been hand delivered. And second, it carried a whiff of an unmistakably familiar scent: rosemary, bergamot, and just a splash of brandy. Astarion.
Smoke and Mirror rubbed against Tav's legs as they walked over to their small kitchen table, mewling insistently for attention, or perhaps treats. Most likely both. The rest of the mail got tossed in a pile on the table—the bills could wait. Tav's curiosity over what Astarion wanted couldn't.
He hadn't left things off on bad terms, by his standards. Their relationship had certainly been worse. But although they'd kept to regular check-ins over the last couple of years since they settled back in Baldur's Gate, Astarion had missed the last two with little more than a "I'll have to decline; don't worry darling, I'm fine." Tav had wanted to track him down, but their better senses had prevailed at the last moment. If he missed one more, then they'd bang his blasted door down. But here he was, writing them out of the blue.
The wax seal on the back of the envelope was curious; a spool of thread with a needle. The card stock inside was thick and of fine quality; it bore the name Amastacia's Seamery at the top. In a lilting script Tav recognized to be Astarion's, the letter read:
Tav,
I want to thank you for all you've done for me, even when I was being a miserable wretch and surely didn't deserve your kindness. I've been working on something with a new…friend, shall we say. And I want you to see. Stop by Amastacia's Seamery any night after sunset. It's next to Bonecloak's Apothecary. Catch up soon, darling.
—A.
Smoke had jumped up on the table while they read and sniffed curiously at the parchment, trying to bat it out of Tav's hand when she no doubt smelled Astarion.
"Smoke, leave it!" they admonished with a fond chuckle, scritching behind the cat's ear before setting the letter down and beginning to pace.
So, Astarion had a new "friend" and some level of involvement with a tailor shop. That would explain his skipped check-ins. He'd never admit it, but he probably wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly before showing them. Gods forbid Tav catch a glimpse of him unpolished and imperfect when he "should" be thriving, by his standards. As if Tav cared. They just wanted to see him! But they were glad he'd finally worked his way around to inviting them.
Three evenings later, Tav approached the Lower City's central district practically vibrating with curiosity. The outside of the shop was cute; in a clear attempt to differentiate itself from the rustic apothecary next door, the Seamery's side of the building had been freshly painted a radiant, almost pearlescent white and all the windows had been scrubbed to shining perfection. The sign that hung above the door was a tasteful mauve and cream with the same spool and needle logo, above which Amastacia's Seamery was written in what looked like Astarion's handwriting. That suggested he'd been part of founding this establishment, not merely an employee.
Now that Tav was face to face with the shop they vaguely remembered reading an article about its opening. Some fluff piece about its owner, one Mx. Amastacia, having formerly been an entertainer of some renown. Tav couldn't remember their stage name but the article had mentioned something about them coming into a sudden inheritance which allowed them to change careers.
A quiet bell jingled when Tav pushed the door open about an hour past sunset and was surprised to find there were a handful of customers inside. Astarion was nowhere to be seen and the shopkeeper was deep in conversation about hemlines with the patron they were assisting, so Tav had the opportunity to slip in unnoticed and observe before diving headfirst into whatever Astarion had planned.
Their eyes slid first to the shopkeeper; they couldn't deny they were dying to see what kind of person Astarion had willingly entered into a business partnership with. Standing at a mannequin with a young human woman was a half-elf with long black hair that flowed freely in rippling waves down to the middle of their back, their smile pleasant and their sapphire blue eyes sparkling in an excited way that betrayed their eagerness for business.
Despite the vivacious gown they were discussing, their own attire was tastefully simple, a blend of masculine and feminine elements that made it clear the wearer cared little for labels; something Tav could appreciate. They wore a plum-colored blazer with wide lapels tucked into a high-waisted ankle-length pleated black skirt, and the black high-heeled boots on their feet ensured they towered over nearly everyone in the shop. They wore no jewelry, although Tav's keen eyes detected pierced holes along their earlobes—a notable absence, especially given Tav's proclivity towards excess in that area.
The half-elf seemed to notice them after a few moments. "I'll be with you shortly!" a cheerful tenor voice called out.
Walking around the modest atelier, Tav noticed some upholstered bench seating by the window which two bored looking mamas currently perched on, and several racks of ready-made outfits and lingerie as well as a smattering of other mannequins sporting bold gowns and fanciful suits. Nothing stuck out as anything they would normally wear.
Just then a familiar face with a head of silvery curls popped through the curtain that separated the storefront from the work area.
"Need a hand out there, dar—oh! Look who decided to show up!" Astarion drawled, his crimson eyes landing on Tav instantaneously with a flash of surprise.
"It's good to see you too, Astarion," Tav laughed. "Long time no see." They could have teased him further, but the jabs would have to wait until there were no customers within earshot. Whatever he had going on here, Tav certainly didn't want to be the one to jeopardize it with a rude comment.
Astarion waltzed briskly into the room towards Tav. He looked resplendent in a white mesh blouse lined with a high satin collar and a placket that plunged down to his navel, revealing a narrow slit of bare skin down the middle. Intricate embroidery in a geometric pattern climbed up either side of the slit, and he had finished the outfit with perfectly tailored navy blue slacks and tasteful brown leather dress shoes. Once he drew closer Tav saw the blouse's back was the same satin fabric, giving his scars full coverage. Even more than the sharp outfit, Tav was struck by how relaxed he looked. There was a tentative, uncertain happiness in the wrinkle of his brow and the small, crooked smile he offered up to them.
"Oh, come here," he urged, throwing his arms wide.
Astarion, initiating a hug? Tav might have thought they were dreaming if the cool arms of their friend around their shoulders didn't feel so very real.
"Why don't you make yourself comfortable in the back room? We'll join as soon as we can," Astarion whispered in their ear before stepping out of their embrace.
It was at that moment the half-elf seemed to finish up their conversation, assuring the young woman's mama they'd have the order ready in five days and waving them off with a chipper 'thank you for your business.' They turned to regard the old friends, and once the jingling bell signaled that one of the sets of mother and daughter had left they clapped their hands together in excitement.
"Oh my gods, this must be Tav! I have heard so much about you, hun. All good things, worry not." The half-elf traipsed over and delicately held out a hand. "Sasha Amastacia. It's an absolute pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine," Tav volleyed the pleasantry back at them, taking their hand and shaking it heartily.
"Excellent, you're all acquainted; now please go wait in back," Astarion groused.
Alone in the shop's workroom, Tav had to laugh at how very obvious it was which work station belonged to whom. On one side of the room was a pristine station without a single object out of place; spools neatly wound and organized on a shelf, fabric folded crisply, the desk free of clutter allowing a manual-powered sewing machine to take center stage. The neat station was abutted by a large board bursting with myriad outfit sketches, the jagged edges of the paper clearly indicating they'd been torn out of notebooks and pinned.
And on the other end of the room was an explosion of chaos that bore the hallmarks of Astarion's energy. Sparse fabric scraps cluttered the desk while several spools lay on their sides and appeared one heavy footfall away from escaping the desk entirely; only the head of his sewing machine peeked out from beneath a stack of wool that had been carelessly thrown over it. Even his stool was piled high with cloth.
Tav chose to sit on the big, overstuffed couch against the other wall instead. As the plush cushions enveloped them they couldn't help but think it was comfortable enough to sleep on; the folded blanket and pillow sitting on the far end of it suggested one of them did. A closer look around the room revealed simple iron lamps mounted to the walls at regular intervals and thick, heavy brocade curtains that would likely block out every last ray of sun.
They didn't have long to ponder the implications before the curtains leading to the atelier flew open and in waltzed Astarion, followed by Sasha. The former sauntered over to sit casually on the couch arm next to Tav while the latter shifted nervously on their feet.
"Your timing was perfect, Tav. I've closed up for an hour so we can take a "dinner break." I'd apologize for the mess in here but, well, it's not mine and the perpetrator is wholly unapologetic," Sasha attempted to lighten the mood with a jab at Astarion.
Tav burst out in exuberant laughter, the joke being equal parts funny, true, and unexpected.
"You have no idea! You should have seen his tent when we were on the road. Disaster doesn't even begin to describe it. Honestly, I'm surprised it didn't burn down five times over given his many fire hazards."
"Natavriel, how dare you?!" Astarion barked, features sharp with irritation.
Sasha joined in on the laughter, placing a hand on their chest. "Oh, I like them, Astarion. Anyone who can score a playful dig on you is all right in my book. Honestly though, I don't mind. He assures me he has a system within the chaos and I'm inclined to believe him considering the only times he can't find something is when I get exasperated enough to organize his mess."
Astarion cleared his throat. "If I'd known you were both going to gang up on me I'd have sent you off on some fool's errand before inviting Tav over."
Laughter continued to flow easily from them both as they traded a few more fond jokes at Astarion's expense until the vampire seemed to start fuming in earnest; Tav liked Sasha already, too. They seemed like someone who could keep him in check while being sweet about it. But seeing their friend grow agitated spurred Tav to change course.
"So why did you invite me here, Astarion? I was surprised to hear from you out of the blue after you missed two check-ins."
Astarion looked about ready to say something combative until Sasha cleared their throat and crossed their arms over their chest, raising their eyebrows in a pointed warning.
Astarion blinked, then rubbed his neck absentmindedly. "Sasha suggested I invite you now that we've established enough business so you could…see what I've been up to." He waved his hands flippantly around the workroom. He looked over to Sasha again, and the half-elf shot him a subtle smile that clearly said 'keep going, you're doing great!'
"And I wanted to make you a new outfit to say…thank you. For everything. I finally feel like I have something to offer you in return."
Tav wanted to tell him that their friendship was not transactional; him being able to return favors had never factored into why they helped him. But they could tell by the earnest vulnerability in Astarion's eyes that this was important to him. And if Sasha had urged him to reach out, Tav guessed that meant it was something he'd been mulling over for a while. They made a mental note to thank the half-elf for being the nudge Astarion needed. They'd missed this pale rascal.
"How sweet of you to offer, Astarion," Tav said, letting a dazzling smile spread across their face.
His shoulders slumped in relief. "I know our ready-made items aren't to your tastes but I've been telling Sasha about the types of outfits I've seen you wear and they've got some sketches for you to look over. They're the big ideas person."
"Don't let Astarion fool you, he's got some great ideas too! And he has me beat when it comes to embroidery, no contest."
They'd built such an easy rapport in just a few short months. Tav couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy that they had missed it all. There was clearly so much the tailors hadn't shared with them, but Tav resolved to get the truth one way or another. They nodded appreciatively to Sasha when they offered up two sketches.
Warmth spread across their chest as they studied each option; credit to Astarion, he did indeed understand what they liked. There were a couple variations of similar outfit types, from long flowing robes to layered numbers with billowing pants and vests with long-sleeve shirts that had thumb hooks to cover the top halves of their hands.
"So, the burning question of the evening: how did you two meet?" Tav slipped in innocently while they looked between the sketches.
"We met at a bereavement group," Astarion asserted, too quick. Tav smelled the lie as clearly as if it'd been freshly dropped on the wood floor in front of them.
"Astarion, forgive me if I have a difficult time picturing you at a bereavement group."
Sasha giggled with a hand over their mouth. "They've got you there, Astarion. He's not exactly lying. We did start calling it 'bereavement group' after a time."
Astarion looked between the pair of them tensely; was he still hesitant to let Tav in? But then Sasha nodded and he relaxed. Tav guessed he had been seeking permission to share a truth that wasn't fully his. With permission granted, he slapped a conspiratorial grin on his face and leaned in.
"I think you'd look dashing in the pants and vest combo, darling. Anyway, we met one evening stalking the same target. The man was stumbling home drunk after harassing some woman at the tavern so he was ripe for the plucking. Neither of us saw the other at first; Sasha was out for gold, and I for blood. Blasted fool nearly got away while we bickered over whose mark it was until we agreed to just share him."
"Weirdest threesome I've ever had," Sasha interjected with a joke.
Laughter blasted out of Tav when Astarion finished his explanation; now that sounded far more believable. It was also a relief to know that Sasha was already aware and accepting of Astarion's vampirism.
"It happened again maybe a tenday later," Sasha picked up the tale. "Of course a second chance encounter piqued my curiosity and I invited him back to my place for a chat." A self-deprecating smile spread at Tav's incredulous look. "Gods, I know hun, I'm a dummy with no head for danger, what can I say? Yes, I invited a vampire I'd just met directly into my home. But I clearly lived to tell the tale.
"Anyway, one thing led to another and we wound up coordinating our efforts, eventually planning a simple little heist to take back some coin that had been wrongfully taken from me. And here we are! Amastacia's Seamery."
"I guess that explains the 'sudden inheritance' the Gazette mentioned," Tav remarked.
"You read the article!" Sasha exclaimed, jumping up and down.
"That I did, love. Where does Astarion factor into all this?"
"When I went back to burn the Szarr palace to the ground I found a key to a high security vault that was practically bursting with riches. So I, too, had a sudden inheritance. We each have an equal stake in the business," he said proudly, although his eyes still betrayed a need for Tav's approval.
Looking over the sketches one more time, they made a quick decision. They held the pages out to Sasha. "Can you combine them? I like the pants in this one with the sash around the waist, and the undershirt. But I like the robe of the other one better than the vest."
Astarion grumbled and stalked over to his station, and Sasha looked elated as they took the pages from them. Tav suddenly had the feeling they were, once again, missing some key context. When Astarion came back he passed a third sketch to Tav and a handful of coins to Sasha. The third sketch showed the exact combination they'd just requested, but with a few more details drawn in. Along the robe's front were some nondescript swirls with a note that read 'discuss embroidery and patterns - birds? Displacer beast? Feywild flora?' Similar notes were repeated on the pants and sash.
"I told you the combo would look better," Sasha said smugly to Astarion's back before they turned their attention back to Tav. "We had a bet running. This is wonderful though! It's time to talk colors. Personally I think you'd look stunning in jewel tones, hun, and judging by the ruby look you have going on today I assume you agree. What do you think, a nice deep emerald? Astarion! Do you remember that ah-mazing emerald brocade we got in last shipment? Could you be a dear and bring it out?"
Still sore about losing the bet, Astarion stalked off into the next room of their workshop area, the door slamming behind him. Tav clocked the way Sasha's eyes drifted over to watch his retreating form, noticed the way they wet their lips as they observed him. But before Tav had a chance to tease, Sasha seemed to snap to attention, their face brightening again as they plopped themselves down next to them on the couch and leaned in.
"So, Tav…" Sasha's voice had dropped to barely above a whisper.
"Yes, love?"
"I know Astarion's a big boy and he doesn't need your blessing, but he thinks highly of you…I wanted to get your thoughts: do you think he'd be receptive if I asked him out? We called our scheming 'bereavement group' because I lost someone too. We talked about them, Storm and Carlo. So I know his pain. I'm ready to move on, but his loss is fresher. So I just…thought I'd ask you. And before you doubt my sincerity, this has nothing to do with why I pushed him to reach out to you. I may be a thief, but I'm not a prick. I just want him to be happy, yaknow? And you're part of that."
Looking into Sasha's eyes revealed their earnestness. This kid is adorable, asking me if they can ask Astarion out as if he's a blushing bride to be given away, Tav thought. But beneath the cheekiness was real fondness and a desire to do right by Astarion. And knowing their pale friend, he must have felt at least some semblance of feelings for Sasha if he had kept Tav at arm's length all this time. They could see him being uncertain of whether he was 'allowed' to let someone else in after losing Storm.
"Go for it, love. Who can say how he'll respond? Just give it some time if he reacts harshly, he'll simmer down at some point. I'm sure you've been privy to his sharp tongue."
The door banged open before Sasha could say more, but Astarion stalked over to them and put his empty hands on his hips with a scowl. "There was no emerald brocade, you buffoon! Wait…but you knew that. You never forget a single scrap of inventory. You just wanted to get Tav alone, didn't you? Well, they're not interested in anyone like that and you can't have them. They're my friend!"
Tav recognized jealousy on their friend all too well and they laughed again at the absurdity of it. They should have stormed in on Astarion sooner; their cheeks were beginning to ache from smiling and laughing so much, a sign it had been too long.
"They weren't coming on to me, love, no need to worry. And I think there's enough friendship to go around for you both, hmm?"
"That's right, I had meant to order it but they were out at the time," Sasha cut in, completely ignoring the latter half of Astarion's outburst. "Well. It was lovely to meet you, Tav, but dinner hour's over. I'd better let you two catch up while I go back out to tend shop. Who'd have thought a seamery with late-night hours would be so popular, hmm? Are you a hugger?"
"Does Astarion drink blood? Bring it in, love," Tav replied, holding their arms out wide. The way Sasha melted into their embrace like a love-starved kid told them everything they needed to know to make the instantaneous decision to 'adopt' them as one of their 'kids.' Tav would be coming around a lot more often now that they knew where to find them both.
"Regardless of what Mr. Grumpypants says, you have an open invitation to drop by and see me any evening. And Astarion? Despite my ruse with the emerald brocade, do be a dear and finalize the design with your friend, please. We'll have everything ready in about a tenday and a half. Ta-ta!" With that, Sasha stood, brushed invisible dust off their skirt, and sauntered back out through the curtains to the atelier.
Much like Sasha's had, Astarion's eyes homed in on the sway of their hips on their way out before darting back to Tav, his expression guarded.
"So, what do you think?" he swallowed hard, slowly lowering himself down into the spot Sasha had just occupied.
"About?" Tav replied with gentle amusement.
A huff of annoyance escaped his lips. "This! All of it. The shop, the…business partner."
"It all suits you beautifully, love. But you don't need my approval. I just want you to be happy."
Moments passed while Astarion stared off into the distance before he snapped back to himself.
"I…rather think I am," he said, the corners of his mouth quirking into a surprised smile. "Or at least I'm on my way there. Now, I believe Sasha will wring my precious neck if I don't nail down the final details for your outfit. And then I thought we could…perhaps grab a bite at a tavern? I'll have to bring some takeaway back with me. The darling fool forgot to eat again, if you didn't notice. I swear, they'd starve without me."
Another quick trip to rifle through his disaster of a work station and Astarion returned with his sketch pad, and he and Tav talked excitedly about different embroidery patterns, color combinations, and fabrics until he'd taken down everything and shut the book with a satisfied grunt. When he held out an arm in invitation Tav took it, and Astarion led them out through a back exit and onto the lamp-lit streets of Baldur's Gate in search of a warm bite and a lively conversation.