Work Text:
Thwok, thwok. The tiefling Tavashvelhk pulled the brush through his long red and black hair, down over the front of his shoulder. His hair was luxuriant, naturally full and dark and wavy. He kept it with great care. And the hairbrush made it positively shine.
This was no ordinary brush. Carved from blackwood core, inlaid with alloy of infernal iron, its bristles were plucked from the tongue of a Leomarh cat. This was a brush from Avernus, the realm of devils.
There was not much good the tielfing could say about Avernus, but among all the realms, it did produce the superlative best in beauty products. The devils of Avernus had not invented vanity—that notoriety probably belonged to the Lady Firehair, Sune—but in Avernus, vanity had found its perfection.
Tav regarded the mirror in front of him. It was a perfect circle, and large, fixed on top of a low wide chest of drawers. And Tav regarded the man sitting on the chest of drawers, a slender pale-skinned elf in frilly clothes, who had his arm draped over the curve of the top of the mirror. This was Astarion, and he was watching Tav from his customary position.
Though Astarion hated mirrors, he had a strange habit of clinging to this one. Still, he always sat in just such a way as not to see its surface.
“You really must hand it to the devils,” said Astarion. “I’ve never seen one with as much as a single hair out of place.”
“J’accuse,” said Tav. “Your hair is always perfect. And I’ve never even seen you with a brush.”
Astarion tapped the glass of the mirror with his long fingernail. “When you have no reflection,” he said, tapping the mirror again, just in case Tav hadn’t already gotten the point, “brushing your hair is just guesswork. I prefer the certainty of magic. And it’s much quicker— leaves more time for other pleasures.” Astarion’s tongue flicked across his pronounced lateral incisors.
“Just once,” said Tav, “I wish you would let me brush your hair.”
“Darling, don’t be silly. I wouldn’t even be able to see it when you finished.” Astarion wiggled in that way that always meant trouble. “But if you’re good, I might let you spank me with that brush. Or, if you’re bad, it’ll be the other way around—”
Tav stood up abruptly. “You just don’t get it.” He set the brush down with a loud clack and stormed out of the room.
“Other way around it is,” said Astarion, to no one in particular.
Tav wandered through the stalls of the lower-city market, stopping to ruminate over a stuffed dragon plushie. Why did I snap like that? I mean, he doesn’t get it. It’s not about how he looks—
“You gonna buy somethin?” At this point, Tav had squeezed every plushie the cart had to offer, and the shopkeep was running short on patience.
“Sorry... I’m just...” Tav said, and then had an idea. “Say, you don’t know of any kind of magic mirror that a vampire can use—”
“Vampire!—”
“No, I mean, I’m not a vampire, I’m just—” Tav thought about the words he was about to say, asking for a friend. That would always sound suspicious. “Oh, forget it. Sorry.”
“Hey, none of my business,” said the very professional shopkeep. “But I don’t go messin with no magic mirrors. Nothing good ever comes o’ that.”
Tav frowned.
“I’ll tell you who would,” the shopkeep said. “That no good genie what’s always scammin people at the circus.”
“Of course!” Tav said, smiling again. Now it’d be rude not to buy anything. “And here, I’ll take this one.”
He bought the plushie that he just happened to be holding. It was a Shadowheart doll. He would notice later it was an anatomically correct Shadowheart doll. It was very anatomically correct. He would never speak of it again.
Tav arrived at the circus at closing time. Gaining entrance was no problem; Tav had done the ringleader no small number of favors. Once inside, he headed straight to the djinni’s tent. And the djinni was there, bobbing like an ocean buoy next to his wheel of scams.
“Still up to your old tricks?” said Tav.
“Oh! If it isn’t my dearest friend, Tav,” said the djinni. His words were exaggerated, but the warmth was sincere. The djinni liked people who had tricks of their own, and Tav had once taken the djinni’s nosering in a game of cards. He had returned the jewelry but kept the djinni’s respect. “How are you, my lovely?”
“Terrible,” said Tav.
“Oh dear, what’s wrong? Do we need ice cream?”
“It’s Astarion. He—”
“Oh shit, gotta hide,” the djinni said, disappearing with a poof.
Tav looked around in confusion, then noticed the ringleader marching over, her arms crossed over her weighty bosoms, with an equally weighty frown. “Where is that good-for-nothing—” she said. “Oh, hi, Tav.”
Tav and the ringleader exchanged pleasantries, but she wasn’t the type to be very helpful when it came to boys. And she was on a mission. She was in a mood.
After the ringleader marched off, Tav waited for a few minutes, but the djinni did not reappear. Tav hung his head low and started ruminating again.
Why are you like this? He was thinking of the morning, with Astarion, but whether the question was for the vampire or for himself, even Tav was not sure. I just want to brush his hair because I want to be close to him. Who the hells cares if he can’t see his stupid reflection—
Tav’s gut dropped inside him with sinking remorse, the guilt in the realization. Ohhhhh—
Astarion wasn’t making light of Tav’s wishes. Astarion was deflecting from his own feelings. It was entirely about his reflection. I’m such an ass.
“Mmmmmm.... nnnnmmmmm...” Tav’s navelgazing was interrupted by the incoherent mumblings of the circus’ resident mummy. “MMMMMmmm... nnn... nnn... uuuuuhhhhhh... Mmmmnnnn...”
“Hold on, hold on,” Tav said, then called upon the Weave to link her thoughts to his. “Okay, now we can talk. Also... hi.”
Hey, Tav! How’s it going? The mummy always got overly excited when someone could actually understand her. The djinni won’t be back, prob’ly not for a while. He’s in a heap of trouble. Oh yes, oh yes. Sooooo much trouble. She clapped her hands over her mouth, a gesture as pointless as it was animated. Tav choked back a laugh.
Anyway... I’m not supposed to talk about that, the mummy said—or, rather, thought—to Tav. You seem down. What’s got your bandages in a bunch?
Tav explained everything, about what he had said; about what Astarion had said; about what he had come to realize just now; about the djinni, the mirror, the brush. He even accidentally thought a little too loudly about the very indecent Shadowheart plushie—never before had he seen a mummy blush—and in the end, he left with one of The Mummy’s Famous Magic Makeup Kits, and a large wooden ring that was once part of a hoop skirt, and a plan.
That night, Tav found Astarion and took him aside.
“Here, put this on,” Tav said, handing a silk blindfold to the vampire.
“Oh, my,” Astarion said. “I do love a surprise.” Wrapping the blindfold around his eyes, he continued, saying, “But if it’s going to be a spanking, we both know who deserves it today.” Never one to let subtlety go unviolated, Astarion added, “It’s you.”
Tav laughed and took Astarion’s hand. “No, silly. Just come with me.”
Tav led Astarion to his bedroom and sat him in the chair in front of the chest of drawers. Tav had earlier removed the mirror and replaced it with the large wooden hoop.
Tav ducked down behind the chest and considered the Mummy’s Famous Magic Makeup Kit. Calling it a makeup kit was wholly misleading. It was in fact a disguise spell, and an advanced one at that. Tav opened the kit and whispered the incantation that would activate its magic.
“What?” said Astarion. “Did you say something?
“No, nothing,” said Tav. “I mean, you can take off the blindfold now.”
Astarion removed it and looked skeptically at the fake mirror. “I don’t know what you’re trying—”
The magic had completed the disguise—no, transformation, and Tav sat up, framed in the center of the ring of the fake mirror, his face and head and hair now a perfect imitation of Astarion’s own.
Astarion sat for a moment, motionless, silent. Tav did his best to hold the same still pose, but anxiety flooded his nerves. Oh, no... Did he not like it?
After a very long moment of stillness, Astarion shot forward like a bolt through the ring and grabbed Tav’s face in both hands and pressed his lips onto Tav’s own.
Tav’s body flooded with relief and desire. He reached up and ran his fingers in Astarion’s hair, accepting the pressure of Astarion’s eager tongue. They kissed long and deep.
Tav was always the type to kiss with eyes closed, so he didn’t see the tears flowing down his lover’s cheeks until they finally pulled their faces apart for a moment of air. They were happy tears.
“Okay, you get to use the brush tonight,” Astarion said, wiggling and smiling brightly.
“I don’t want to do spankings tonight,” said Tav. “I—”
“Darling, no,” said Astarion. “I want you to brush my hair.”