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The air was crisp with the chill of the soft evening breeze. Most of the group had gone to bed, but Tav and Astarion still remained awake. Seemingly neither could rest and all they could do was sit in front of the campfire, warming themselves in silence.
The flames crackled quietly while Tav and Astarion stared into them, sitting across from one another. Astarion had already been sitting in front of the fire before Tav came out of their tent. That was normal for him, of course. So many nights out in Baldur’s Gate, luring victims back for his master had ingrained the routine into him. Old habits die hard, as they say.
But they could sense that he was thinking about something. His expression was contemplative - pensive. Tav could be forgiven for thinking that he was in a sour mood if they didn’t know him better by now. The spawn did well to hide his emotions in the day, but by night his mask seemed to slip just a little. His façade couldn’t be maintained for such a long period of time.
Tav couldn’t blame him though. He’d spent two hundred years playing the perfect role in Cazador’s twisted fantasy. It amazed them that the lifestyle of his master appealed so much. It got them thinking before they eventually broke the silence.
“Why do you want what Cazador has so badly, Astarion?” they asked, eyes flicking over towards him.
Astarion knew Tav was there, but for a moment or two, he’d let himself drift away from reality, eyes growing unfocused on the blaze directly in front of him. He thought about what it might be like to stick his hand in the fire. Would the tadpole offer him some protection or would he burn up in an instant? It seemed that these days he couldn’t really be harmed, so why not test the boundaries…
However, Tav’s voice interrupted his thoughts, causing him to almost jump, though he kept composure for the most part. Then his brows knitted together in confusion as he looked up at Tav. “What? Darling, where on earth did that come from?”
“Nowhere… I was just thinking.” They shrugged, looking at him expectantly for an answer.
The vampire couldn’t contain his sigh. “Do I really have to answer that question?” He raised his brow.
“No,” Tav began, “but I’ll just ask you again later on down the line,” they added.
This caused Astarion to smirk slightly. “Persistent, aren’t you?”
“One of my best qualities, so I’ve been told. Now, come on, stop avoiding the question.” Tav pushed, smirking back and crossing their arms.
“Fine.” He relented and glanced around to check if any of the others were listening. He knew how some liked to eavesdrop. “I think it should be glaringly obvious, but Cazador is… practically untouchable.”
“Is he? We’re literally plotting to take him down.”
“True, but think about what we know and how we know it.” Astarion paused for effect. “Darling, we have someone who knows the ins and outs of Cazador’s palace, his routines… his thirst for more power - yours truly.” He gestured to himself rather flamboyantly. “And we have, by some miracle, a devil willing to feed us further answers for a measly price. We couldn’t really be in a much better position. If we didn’t know all of what we do, and will, then we wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Tav looked at him sceptically.
“Cazador has so much influence. The Szarr family are… legendary in the Gate now. He controls so much without people even realising. He has, well, had seven spawn who would do his bidding with little resistance. We would bow to him and offer ourselves as his obedient little puppets to be controlled entirely. The power he holds in the palm of his hand… what I wouldn't give to have that. To be so revered by so many… feared even. Above all else, Cazador is safe.”
As Tav watched Astarion speak, they could see the lust for power in his eyes - the way he was almost salivating at the thought of it - but then there was the longing. A longing for safety. That’s all he really wanted, wasn’t it…
“If I had even half of what Cazador has, I’d be… so free. I could do what I want without fear of being lashed and beaten into submission. How delicious it would feel to inflict such things on others; make them see just what I’ve endured. Maybe I could even bend Cazador to my will.” He shook his head. “I just… I don't want to spend the rest of my life running and living in abject fear, constantly watching the shadows and never, ever feeling safe.”
Astarion sighed softly. “Don’t you want the same, my dear?”
“Of course I do, but… power changes people, Astarion. What if it makes you into something you hate? What if you become a monster?”
“Then so be it! Better a monster who's feared by everyone than a wretched spawn, loved by no one,” Astarion spat coldly.
Tav watched his face harden and looked down for a moment before they got up. “I see.” They began to walk back to their tent before they paused a few steps away from him. “Maybe if you weren’t so blinded by your lust for power, you’d see that a spawn can be loved by someone.” They caught him glancing back at them before they carried on, hiding their pained expression from his sight. “Goodnight Astarion.”