#after meeting Gandrel

[zerky]

When you tell your traumatized vampire boyfriend he’s safe with you 🥺

Ref:

[sparkspropaganda]

There's this face Astarion makes sometimes and I'm not entirely sure what emotion he's trying to convey but he fails at it regardless. ID in alt text

[stxrmstained]

// how does seira explain that his impeccable performance as an evil drow isn't based on stereotypes but on the real evil drow who raised him

[buntchugley]

deeply embarrassing to want to maybe commission someone to do a fic but having so many details already i should just write it myself at this point. like hey yeah could you write this except good please thanks

[arsene-ee]

Can we talk about Astarion's casual Rascim?

I know there's already a post out there like this (check it out!!!) but I wanna throw in my 10 cents.

It is scary to see how normalized Astarion's casual rascim towards the Gur (also it feels so wrong to say this like holy fuck) is. like for example when you first meet Gandrel Astarion just wants to kill him, and like for no proper reason too, because Gandrel is a pretty chill dude and he will accept if you don't wanna give up Astarion and you can resolve the conflict without violence, and with the knowledge i have now I really regret killing him in my first playthrough because I just believed what Astarion told me (and also because I did not know that the Gur are infact based on Romani People like holy fuck I feel horrible for being so mean towards them).

"bUt TeA aStArIoN hAs A rEaSoN tO dIsLiKe ThE gUr, ThEy ArE tHe ReAsOn He BeCaMe A sPaWn AfTeR aLl" you may now say.

Well no, Astarion got what was coming for him. He was a corrupt and racist magistrate activley making laws to oppress the Gur.

Also Astarion is so unapologetic about kidnapping their children. He kidnapped their children!!! CHILDREN!!!

it is scary to see how this casual racism is just brushed over when people talk about him and baby him and act like he can do no wrong. Especially with how prevolent Racist and Facist Ideology is nowadays here in Europe.

His racism is pretty much framed as justified because of what happened to him, and what's scary is how similar this framing is to how Racists/Facists frame crimes of immigrants/non-white people to justify their hatred/crimes towards them (which I might add are idividual crimes made by individual people and does not mean an entire group of people commit these crimes)

[the-mic-drop]

Zelink gets Isekaied into BG3 Pt6: Team Link and the Fetid Bog

Zelda- High Elf Draconic Lineage Sorcerer

Link- Half Wood Elf Champion Fighter

So far: Zelda kissed Link before the party split up, Team Zelda has explored the Risen Road, and Team Link is off to explore the Moonhaven area.

Team Link- Link, Wyll, Shadowheart, Gale

From the center of Moonhaven, Link leads the team south and finds a familiar face cornered by a couple less-familiar faces.

Wyll instinctively tries to help Auntie Ethel, but Link notices Gale looking around suspiciously and Shadowheart staring at Ethel.

Link asks Shadowheart what's wrong and she takes that opportunity to ask Ethel why she's all the way out here. Alone. So close to a Goblin camp. Really far away from the nearest friendly settlement.

Ethel explains that she lives in a house in these Sunny Wetlands. Gale puts the final nail in Ethel's story-coffin by dispelling the illusion, revealing the Putrid Bog.

Ethel gets all pissy and poofs back to her shack. The brothers charge into the swamp. While the group takes a moment to discuss. While the Goblins are their main objective, whoever Auntie Ethel is presents a clear threat as well. Ultimately, they decide to head into the swamp.

After passing the Redcaps (that still think they are disguised as sheep) and finding the brothers' corpses, they run into Gandrel, who's apparently hunting a vampire spawn by the name 'Astarion.' Team Link leaves him alone after learning about the spawn attack and child abduction. They'll have some questions for Astarion when they meet up.

Link asks the party about the Redcaps, and they tell him how they're inherently homicidal. He tells the party to scout the teahouse while he deals with the Redcaps.

When Link returns, he's splattered with blood and a few alchemy ingredients richer, but isn't shaken.

They enter the Teahouse, give Ethel's deal the finger, tell Mayrina about her brothers, and follow Ethel (who has revealed her true form) into the tunnel.

After using wits, wizardry, and breath-holding, Team Link find themselves in the Ancient Abode, where Ethel is holding Mayrina.

Ethel is tough, but Team Link is fast and clever and forces Ethel to concede the fight. The team intimidates Ethel into surrendering her boon AND Mayrina before she poofs away again.

Wyll and Shadowheart console Mayrina, who's devastated. Link and Gale search Ethel's workshop. Well, Gale investigates the workshop. Link somehow cooks Ethel's scalp into a very dressed-up-looking chicken parm dish. Link is the only one who eats it. It's fine.

Gale finds the Bitter Divorce wand, analyzes it, and tells Link about it. That it can raise the dead, or the undead to be more accurate.

They find Mayrina outside by Connor's coffin, still flanked by Wyll and Shadowheart. Link stays quiet for a minute looking at the scene before taking out the wand and offering it, and an explanation, to Mayrina.

She raises her undead husband, thanks the party, and heads off to Baldur's Gate.

When asked why he gave her the wand, Link responds with, "I get what it's like... Not giving up."

[shadowheartwhisperer]

I don't know if anyone else does this, but I wanted to share my particular cope with my bg3 hyoerfixation.

Below the "read more" is the roadmap for my playthrough with my resisted durge Dinah, romancing Shadowheart (for the 40th time, I am not being hyperbolic).

Dinah Restart Roadmap

Notes -

Don't learn about Halsin, at all

Get Zorru then save Sazza and follow gut lead then kill leaders after gut confrontation

Agree to kill leaders because you need time to find Iron for Karlach upgrade

After leaders don't attend party, go to creche instead

Nautiloid

- fail to open Shadowheart's pod (time to save scum)

Beach

- talk to Shadowheart, don't join up

- fight brains

- kill mindflayer

- see Gale but leave without interacting

- rest (urge)

Day 2

- enter ruins - beach side

- get Withers

- find bandits - run for it

- grove fight

- don't talk to Zevlor

- recruit Shadowheart

- rest - how do you feel?

Day 3

- back to ruins

- get Lae'zel

- clear ruins

- rest - hand hurt

Day 4

- get Wyll

- save Mirkon

- play with Alfira

- talk to Arabella's parents

- save Arabella

- find lead on Kagha

- meet Mol - agree to steal idol

- zorru

- save Sazza

- rest - playing with artifact + last night in camp

Day 5

- Investigate Kagha - mud mephits

- go backwards through blighted village (we got lost)

- cross bridge, fight hyenas

- meet paladins

- Recruit Karlach

- expose Kagha

- knock out Alfira

- rest - Quill

Day 6

- inquisition

- Gith Convoy (fail, Shadowheart escapes and resurrects everyone)

- kill Paladins

- steal idol

- talk to Dammon

- rest - Mizora

Day 7 (don't find metal)

- get Gale

- get Astarion

- Owlbear cave

- Scratch

- Smuggler's ring

- Wakeens rest

- kill all gnolls

- meet the zhent

- open barn

- save Barcus

- Necromancers Basement

- Spiders (if we have the stamina) through well

- rest - Astarion bite

Day 8

- Andrik and Brynna

- talk to Zevlor

- goblin camp - courtyard stuff

- goblin indoor stuff

- get brand

- get kidnapped by Gut

- kill Gut

- save Volo

- Ask Shadowheart thoughts on parasite

- rest - Dream Visitor

Day 9

- talk about dream (Shadowheart gets ersatz eye while talking)

- chicken chasing

- poison Goblins

- knock out Minthara

- Kill Ragzlin

- pick off straggler goblins

- rest - ?

Day 10

- return to Zevlor - lie and agree to party

- fix Karlach's heart

- fight Gith convoy

- to Crèche, no party

- rest -

Day 11

- buy what we want from Esther then kill her

- Kobolds

- Gremishka

- Open door to monastery

- place 3 weapons

- rest - owl bear cub

Day 12

- place last weapon

- Enter Crèche

- Do Crèche stuff

- get Lae'zel's son

- Zaith'isk

- Captain

- inquisitor

- prism

- rest - owl bear cub 2

Day 13

- blood of Lathander

- fight our way out of Crèche

- Give Gale last treat

- back to first area

- rest - Voss

Day 14

- bah at redcaps

- auntie Ethel

- Gale gets eye

- into Ethel's lair

- take deal and Mayrina CON +1

- resurrect Connor

- meet Gandrel

- get crossbow

- to grove

- meet Halsin

- get Sorrow

- rest - Lae'zel and Shadowheart confrontation

Day 15

- open Selûnite way to Underdark

- spectator

- bulette

- boooal

- arcane tower - except last floor

- rest - ?

Day 16

- top floor arcane tower

- Duergar on beach

- myconid colony

- Omeluum

- find Baelin

- Filro

- back to colony

- rest - ?

Day 17

- to Grymforge - use brand

- architect dude

- rothe

- get Shar idol

- conspire with duergar

- return Sargent's boots

- talk to gnomes

- fight merregon

- fight ooze

- find Philomen

- kill dudes by water

- Poison slavers

- talk to spiders

- kill myrmath

- rest - ?

Day 18

- Nere

- get monk necklace

- turn in head

- last minute shopping

- rest - ?

Day 19

- take elevator to Shadowlands

- send Elmister to camp

- talk to crew

- learn about Shar worship

- save Harpers

- meet He who was

- talk to Elminster

- talk to everyone

- start long rest - Mizora

- ask about Shar Worship

- rest - dream visitor

Day 20

- test dark Justiciar Convo

- to last light

- get Karlach upgrade

- talk to Mattis

- talk to Florrick

- talk to Cerys

- talk to Alfira

- talk to Barcus

- talk to His Majesty

- talk to Raphael, no Astarion

- talk to Mol

- shop

- talk to Rolan

- talk to Jaheira

- talk to Isobel

- fight Marcus

- start long rest

- ask to get to know Shadowheart

- rest - Sceleritas

Day 21

- Mother Superior?

- memory?

- shitload of shopping

- Harper ambush

- save Rolan

- back to last light, check on Rolan

- talk to Bex

- talk to Shadowheart about hand hurt?

- rest - dance with Wyll?

Day 22

- Gerringothe Thorm

- finish off patrol

- moonrise

- trial

- Dungeons

- save gnomes, teiflings & Minthara

- tell Isobel you won't hurt her

- recruit Minthara

- talk to everyone

- start long rest

- missed our chance?

- rest - Gale?

Day 23

- blood merchant

- gnoll Control

- talk to Z'rell

- explore Balthazar's room

- explore moonrise

- meet absolute

- rest - blood merchant talk

Day 24

- Back to first area

- get noblestalk

- go past poison geysers area

- get mithril

- fight grym

- forge stuff... Dunno what

- rest - drinks with m'lady

Day 25

- maybe don't talk to her right away

- any other cleanup stuff that could be in first area

- back to Shadowlands

- Thisobald

- get ledger

- town square fight

- find Arabella

- start long rest

- dtr with Shadowheart

- rest - ?

Day 26

- back to he who was

- fight trees

- play hide and seek

- shopping

- rest - ?

Day 27

- find Arabella's parents

- Malus Thorm

- morgue

- Kua toa

- up the hill to Raphael

- tell Arabella bad news

- rest - ?

Day 28

- wake art cullagh

- defend portal for Halsin

- shop!

- clear moonrise docks

- enter mausoleum

- talk to Arabella - cooled off?

- rest - ?

Day 29

- Enter temple of Shar

- first trial

- wall of bone and blade

- learn about trials

- to camp - talk about being in temple

- Meet Balthazar - agree to work with him for now

- kill Yurgir

- lick spider/start rat fight

- finish rat fight

- rest - stupid Raphael

Day 30

- last minute shopping

- town square trials

- Shar Olympics

- pray before Shadowfell

- last, last minute shopping

- questioning faith Convo, pretty please?

- enter Shadowfell

- kill Balthazar

- save Nightsong

- talk to camp

- to last light by way of shadowed battlefield

- talk to Isobel

- assault on moonrise

- Ketheric first defeat

- dtr with Shadowheart part 2

- rest - urge

Day 31

- illithid colony - Shadowheart, Wyll & Jaheira?

- get Us

- save Zevlor

- mizora

- get Wyll's sword

- remember to fucking talk to companions!

- check Durge pod

- Kressa

- big room full of dudes

- Brain machine

- kill Ketheric

- talk to everyone in moonrise

- leave moonrise

- rest - Shadowheart truth (no talk before sleep)

Day 32

- take Halsin to Oliver

- break curse

- Selûnite Resistance quest

- ritual circle

- last minute shopping

- gith patrol

- double, triple, check done with everything

- leave act 2

- chat around camp

- smooch lady many times

- rest - fucking stupid emperor

Day 33

- talk to everyone

- enter Rivington - Shadowheart, Jaheira, and Minthara

- swap Shadowheart for Wyll

- meet Ferg - bound weapon buy all shit

- swap in Astarion

- Talk to strange ox (w/Astarion and Minthara)

- meet gur

- back to main team (Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Karlach)

- help refugees in house

- enter circus, don't talk to dryad, maybe dribbles (save scum to learn if it effects love test)

- genie

- get trident

- meet necromancer lady

- steal hat

- go to open hand temple

- agree to solve murder

- help monk

- fight doppelgangers in cave

- exit to beach

- find dying guy/Orin

- fight guild and stone Lord dudes

- rest - Vlaakith

Day 34

- meet Ferg w/Shadowheart

- break into toymaker's basement

- Wyrm's Crossing

- meet gnomes

- take Astarion to meet siblings

- shakedown toymaker

- talk to stupid fucking elephant

- Voss

- tell Raphael to fuck off

- circle back to learn about bear bombs

- Harper ambush

- Wyrm's Rock

- learn Bhaalspawn heritage

- steal flaming fist uniform

- coronation

- rest - mizora (sandcastles?)

Day 35

- lower city

- talk to Jaheira

- find guild

- talk to nine fingers

- counting house

- get Minsc through back entrance

- back to guild, deal with Zhent

- rest - Minsc and Jaheira watch me sleep?

Day 36

- follow up on murders

- elf song

- rats in basement

- stupid emperor dumb shit

- save lady at wine tasting

- find bodies

- talk to lady at salty mermaid

- save Figaro

- meet Araj

- stop the presses

- rest - ?

Day 37

- hag survivors

- follow up with Vanra's mom

- salty mermaid, Ethel

- fight redcaps

- fight masked people

- fight Ethel, save Vanra

- follow up with Vanra

- follow up with Mayrina

- rest

(Should have had either kidnapping or Astarion family reunion at this point maybe both)

Day 38 (swap to immediately after kidnapping, if needed)

- Get elf song room

- go to coffin makers place, whatever

- unholy assassin

- buy all good stuff

- kill Saravok anyway

- snoop to learn about Orin

- go to sewers

- fight dumbshit sorcerer

- buy sweet druid robes

- open way to Bhaal's temple

- rest - ?

Day 39

- Bhaal trial

- find brain rats

- chat with Sceleritas

- go to Orin's room

- chat with her mother

- confront Orin

- kill Orin

- huzzah!

- rest - ?

Day 40

- find grave, leave night orchid

- find grafitti

- house of grief maybe?

- prepare to cry maybe?

- if we have stamina - fight poltergeists

- rest - cry my eyes out

Day 41

- go to hell

- house of hope

- kill Raphael, the bastard

- steal Voss' Silver Sword for me

- get Lae'zel's silver sword

- find mummy lord

- find zombie

- track down organs

- kill mummy lord

- return to Oskar

- tell Jannath she can do better

- rest - ?

Day 42 -

- Save Volo

- break into foundry

- talk to blind dude

- wavemother, agree to kill monster

- to society of brilliance

- talk to Blurg

- Jaheira's house

- sorcerers sundries

- fucking Aradin

- Laroakan

- Vault

- stupid Gale

- meet Mystra

- shopping, stalk up for iron throne

- Worg warehouse

- rest - ?

Day 43

- Iron Throne

- get Wavemother dress

- how are we feeling? If all good start ansur

- love test first

- do all trials

- rest - ?

Day 44

- fight ansur

- feeling ok? Start Cazador's Manor

- clear upper level

- rest - ?

Day 45

- talk to skull

- kill Cazador

- prepare to cry

- not too beat? Fireworks!

- rest - ?

Day 46

- *sigh Gortash

- lead out to roof? Stand in one place, ranged only? Either way, try not to set off traps

- talk to other 2 first, then karlach

- cry

- talk to companions again

- cry

- talk to Karlach again

- cry

- anything to clean up?

- rest - ?

Day 47

- anything you've forgotten?

- did you steal the tithes?

- did you find dribbles?

- mindflayer in windmill?

- dryad sex worker?

- adventurer's dad?

- double, triple, quadruple check

- rest - ?

Day 48

- brain rats

- fight brain

- win!

[ladyduellist]

Epistles of Saints & Sinners

Chapter Summary:

Astarion's plans go awry when confronted with his own past.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Story Summary:

When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.

But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.

As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?

Healing isn’t linear—after all.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Chapter 12: Hunt*

Ao3

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Main Page & Chapter List

Word Count: 5.6k

Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, CPTSD episode during sex, Cazador, Blood & Violence, Act 1 Spoilers

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Vampires are some of the deadliest monsters we may contend with. I do not relish my current mission to seek out the spawn, Astarion. But, he may be the only way we can ever see our children again. I am plagued by visions of them being carried away by these blood hungry creatures. Plagued even more by their screams that fill my mind in the most quiet of hours. Full blooded vampires become consumed with whatever they set their eyes upon. But spawns—I have to wonder—if they were to escape their masters, would they be able to redeem themselves if they took the road less traveled?

— Gandrel of the Gur Tribe, journal entry 567

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

“I suppose I should, yet again, count myself lucky: the bastard is alone,” Astarion smirked, picking a few stray leaves from his clothes. He had just returned from a lengthy scouting trip assessing the hunter they may parley with.

It had been several days of traversing rocky footpaths until they arrived in the Sunlit Wetlands. Several days of anxious nights wondering if Cazador sent more pawns to retrieve him. Several days of nothing more than forlorn glances exchanged with the elven songstress.

Wyll crossed his arms, concentrating on Astarion’s face. “That at least bodes well. Did he look familiar to you?”

“Not at all. Though I have met a lot of the city’s miscreants over the years, it’s possible he’s a scorned lover of a lover that Cazador convinced to seek vengeance. He had a lot of connections in the city—so it’s hard to say.”

“Let’s fucking goooo,” Karlach roared as her axe split apart a piece of log. She swiped away wood dustings from her brow, turning to the vampire. “What makes you think this is Cazador’s doing, fancy boy?”

“Oh, how could I forget that it must be one of my many adoring fans, come to shake my hand out in the middle of blasted nowhere,” Astarion replied with a sneer. “Tell me: who else could it be?!”

Of course it had to be his former master! Cazador Szarr would do anything to ensure his spawns stayed forever reliant upon him. For them to know that survival without him wasn’t possible. Astarion knew deep down that no matter how he repeatedly longed for freedom, if he showed up, without question the vampire spawn would still feel betrothed as a slave to enact his heinous mandates. Compelled or not, the attachment to him remained.

The fiery tiefling teetered her axe over her shoulder, ready to swing downward again. “Alright. Alright. As much as I’m always raring to go, I just want to be sure we aren’t getting caught in a trap, yea?”

She had a point. Cazador, reclusive as he was, commandeered powers that most were unaware. Their group was mighty, but could they defeat a vampire lord? It would be nearly impossible, but the fraction of a percentage that they could end his life for good, ignited an invaluable resolve inside of the spawn.

Astarion debonairly examined his nails. “Well, darlings, I’m sure I can go about this on my own if you’re not up for a bit of potential excitement.”

“I have every bit of faith you can handle this by yourself, but I think it goes without saying that hunters are all too well-versed in regions such as these. There may be something we don’t know from what you’ve investigated,” Wyll interjected.

“Why Wyll, the famed monster hunter is going to help protect a monster?! I could kiss you! Or bite you—if that is your preference,” the vampire giddily responded, clasping his hands together as he flashed the tip of his fang.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Astarion,” Wyll chuckled, uncrossing his arms to gesture a stop signal with his hand. “Shall we say around morrow’s noon we head down to speak with the stranger?”

“I’d prefer to stab first, but if you insist, who am I to deny such a handsome face?” Astarion flirtatiously bowed his head.

Karlach visibly shrugged her shoulders, breathing out a long sigh. “Ugh, finnnne. Let’s get this good and over with before something awful happens to your pretty face and you break someone’s fucking heart.”

“My dearest Karlach, are you saying you wouldn’t miss me?”

“I’m saying that our leader wouldn’t be all too happy with any of us if we just let you sod off on your own,” she clarified firmly. “By the way, you may want to speak with Tav about our plans.”

The vampire fisted his hand near his mouth, pretending to cough. “Ahem, well, I’m sure she’s been far too busy entertaining our newest druidic hunk we’ve adopted to camp. They’ve been practically braiding each other's hair since the party.”

“Gods, you don’t sound jealous at all,” she teased. “And look who it is! Mornin’ to you soldier!”

And there she was. Trailing into camp on melodies she sang under her breath. Lavender and vanilla invisibly suffocating him with its whorls of scent around his neck.

Wyll waved in her direction. “Tav! Could we trouble you for a moment?”

Tav quietly nodded, giving him a subtle smile out of the corner of her mouth.

“Astarion just returned back from surveying the bog and it would seem that this hunter is currently alone. Few weapons, but I reckon he has the good sense to protect himself with other means.”

“The three of us are heading down to speak with him come highsun tomorrow. But, if shit goes bad, we’ll be armed,” Karlach added, flexing her arm high in the air. “Hey, are you okay? You look awful.”

“There is nothing to worry about, Karlach. Personal matters.” The bard tried to peer behind the tiefling, staring at the elven man that was clearly avoiding her. “Astarion, did you approve of this?”

He raised his head, the state of her startling him. The skin around her eyes was swollen, a glaze of wetness having long filmed over her sclera. It was evident she had been crying on and off since their last encounter. She was lacking her usual demure aura, visibly rundown.

Astarion cocked a bleary eyebrow at her. “I did.”

“Then, I trust you to handle this to the best of your abilities.”

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

In the middle of the night’s air, Astarion stood outside of Tav’s tent entrance, overwrought with a queasiness burning the walls in his stomach.

After their argument several days ago, he left in a panicked state to hide under the forest canopy bordering their camp. The illusion of hyperventilation attacked his lungs—a memory of it really—as he held onto the bulwarked trunk of a tree. And then, blood spewed from his mouth. He leaned over, coughing and vomiting up a mouthful of the bear’s crimson he consumed earlier that evening.

He had charmed and manipulated Tav enough times to create the image that would steal her away like a rogue in the night. And she craved it. She wanted him to fill the role of her abductor, appearing from behind the curtains in her bedroom, to entice her with cool lips on her knuckles and sworn covenants of intimacy with his bite. Urging her to just let go.

Yet, his plan kept hitting snags.

Without a doubt, he knew his instinctual techniques were all in order. When there had been a few mishaps, he quickly adapted and switched his tactics. But, what he didn’t account for—what he had little to no proficiency in—was dealing with these people’s bygone histories for this length of time. Try as he might to reluctantly focus on the lamentable surface details of the bard and the kettle of vultures—their companions—that circled the hearth of their campfire, piles of their shit kept unearthing themselves like the carcasses of burying beetles.

And he didn’t fucking care.

Why should he? He didn’t know them. Oh, they were a formidable bunch, each having inherited an adeptness for physical or magical strength. He extended his belief in them about as far as relying on them in battle would allow him. But what had they truly done for him otherwise? It wasn’t them that offered mercy upon his vampiric existence and allowed him to stay within their group. It wasn’t them that made sure he was properly fed, baptizing him in their blood.

No, the only person he owed a speckle of his acknowledgement to was the songbird with the voice of singing jewels. Though she challenged him at every nook and cranny of their time together, she was the only one to judge him in such a way that seemed fairly balanced.

Until now.

Tav with her saintly observations, was becoming aware of his methodical ministries. Perhaps not in the sense that she could pinpoint exactly what his strategy was, but gods, her cursed awareness and the cloistered tale of her former life, filled him with enough discomfort he almost considered forgoing his plan entirely.

She knew something was amiss with him. She knew he had to be embellishing everytime he damn near spoke to her about anything other than his wretched past. So, why didn’t she make more of an effort to single him out and put him on trial? Had she been waiting for him to tell her otherwise? To correct her misgivings she was having about him.

It made him uneasy to not know. He could poke around in her mind with their worms, but that certainly wouldn’t bode well if she was unreceptive to the notion.

What an absolute shitshow, Astarion chastised when a strained laugh cut silently through his teeth.

Not to mention the realization that it was not only the façade of her companionship and intimacy he would have to contend with. This foe was clever—more so than he. It had been in her life years before him. Knew her in ways he had yet to scour. And when she tried to disobey it, it had a way of enticing her back into the comfort of its everlasting punishment.

And the name of such a formidable nemesis? Her past.

He couldn’t afford to lose her—not yet. It was too soon and far too late to humor his whims on another camp occupant. Nay, he would see this through to the end. Tav’s or anyone else’s lives be damned!

“I can smell the bergamot in your oils,” a meek voice breathed out. “You can come in whenever you’re ready.”

Astarion deeply inhaled, preparing himself to face her, knowing he may have to use his body for another nightfall to convince her not to forsake him. His performance hinged on being immaculate tonight—to be everything she wanted.

Another transaction: imitated comfort for the reinstated troth of her loyalty.

He lowered himself to his knees and opened the flap of her tent to enter. Tav sat with the used lute on her lap, twisting and tuning the pegs on her bare thighs. She struck a chord, listening intently as the sounds vibrated off the walls of blue linen, then adjusted further or moved onto the next string.

She lifted her head to acknowledge him. With the candlelight casting a golden glow across her face, Astarion thought this may have been one of the few times she possessed such a delicate lethargy.

“Is something the matter?”

“I—no,” he paused. What would be the right thing to say in this situation? “I thought it would be in my good nature to check in on you. But if now isn’t a good time, I can come back later.”

Tav blinked at him several times, then gestured for him to come further in with a nod. He scooted closer to her on his knees, allowing the flap of the tent to cascade off his back like a discarded blanket.

“I'm not a fan of this lute, especially the strings on it, but some things can’t be helped right now. I should be grateful Alfira could even find one available for me,” she spoke softly as if he wasn’t there. “Hopefully, when we make it to a different area or even the city, I can buy a new one.”

The vampire cleared his throat, resting his sweating palms on his thighs. “There’s differences between them? I mean, of course the details are not the same, but what of the sound?”

A shallow smile formed at the corner of her mouth as she continued fiddling with the tune. “Lutes, flutes, drums, violins—any musical instrument really—sounds different depending on several factors. The material used. Strings. Weight. Length. It all determines the sound produced.”

“What type of wood do you prefer for your lutes?”

The messy bun pinned on top of her head bobbed as she popped her head up to stare at him. “Spruce. Always spruce. It has the brightest sound—perfect for ballads.” She pushed her bangs to the side as an afterthought, placing the instrument by her side. “I appreciate you coming here tonight, but you don’t need to pretend you’re actually interested in a music lesson.”

“My dear, I have quite the appreciation for the arts of all kinds,” he grinned. “However, since your perception precedes you, I’m here because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And then I realized that the whole thinking part was actually a worry.” He covered his lies by slowly lifting his eyes under a refuge furled lashes to peer at her.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Tav stated, pursing her lips.

“I’ll have you know, that I could be sinking my fangs into a deer al fresco right about now, but instead I choose to be here. Now, let’s forego this game of hopscotch and chat.”

She ran the pads of her fingers along the edging of her nightshirt. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to revisit parts of our disagreement from a few days ago—if you’re willing to talk about it with me.”

He wasn’t willing, but what choice did he have if he wanted to keep up this charade with her?

Astarion cocked his head to the side to nod, flaring his nostrils with a practiced breath. “If it's truly that bothersome to you, then I suppose I could pencil you in right this very second to listen.”

He could hear the strums of her pulse trembling. She was nervous.

Blood rushed to her lips, coloring them in roses. He saw tears welling up, threatening to spill over her lower lids. She could no longer hold it in. “First of all: I’m so so sorry, Astarion. What you said about ‘power’ reminded me so much of…I…I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like I did. You are your own person, not some reanimated villain of my tragedies.”

Ah, so she wished to focus on her reactions instead of the subject he hastily broached during his blood drunken stupor. How very like her to satisfy her own accountability. This could work in his favor.

Astarion would not press. Should she circle back to his unfavorable comments, well, he could always blame it on the mind flayer tadpole having deceptively influenced his mind after their encounter with other ‘true souls.’ In case he needed to change routes in the moment to suit her thoughts and actions, he made a mental note to be considerably more deliberate in reading her facial expressions.

Finding out just how much power these worms wielded, delighted the vamp. Of course they would be valuable in advancing his fight against Cazador, but directing those around him to do as he pleased? Gods.

The positions he could seat! The material wealth he could own! The liberty to indulge in all manners of debauchery and authority!

A future living side by side with an illithid creation suddenly didn’t sound so horrible.

“May I ask who he is?” he questioned, trying to inflict his tone to a more polite wisp.

She shied away from looking at him directly, guilt-ridden and hiccuping. Tav’s lips trembled, shaking her head to refuse him while she continued to weep.

It intrigued Astarion to see the normally strong-hearted woman bearing this unknown man’s crown of thorns with the pith of his blackened blood dripping from her eyes like melted candles. Days ago, during their night’s quarrel, the soul mark behind his ear hammered rapidly to the point of searing pain when she mentioned him. This man—this incubus—still choked her with his malignant hands, even though he was probably leagues away.

The hells cracked open, And he was reborn. With evil tongues spoken, Her scrawled promises would not be mourned.

While bewitching the bard had been as ordinary to Astarion as any everyday routine, she was hiding the flotsam of her personal dogmas sundered by this same mortal, making his task all the more difficult. A heretic to her own emotions.

They were both slaves to their pasts and towed the weighted cold night visions where escape seemed nothing more than mere fantasy. And he felt something by this acknowledgment. A blink of connection to her in the form of empathy.

Empathy?

Hells, it had been so long since he knew any emotion except anger, terror, and numbness. But, empathy held dire consequences. One of the last times he felt any ounce of said emotion, cost him a year of starvation inside of that derelict burial place. The memory still seemed so fresh in comparison to the ages he’d lived. If he let himself know empathy once more, it would mean allowing himself to be in a position of the same weakness he had been in for centuries.

“You don’t understand how awful I feel for how I reacted,” Tav managed to squeeze out of her throat.

He moved further within the tent to sit cross-legged in front of her, angling his head downwards to grab her attention. “Silly creature, of course I understand how awful you feel. Your heart is literally an open wound gushing onto everyone it passes. If someone ran into you, YOU would be the one to apologize.

“We’re still alive, aren’t we? Well, you are at least, but I do have the advantage of being ravishing forever,” he added with a quip.

The bard laughed as her body shook with sobs. Hands flew to her face, catching the falling tears with dabs of her fingertips.

“Darling.” He reached out to her with his palm up. “Come here. I can’t leave you blubbering like some muppet begging for scraps.”

Taking a hesitant breath, Tav placed her hand gingerly into the inviting salve he offered, holding onto it tightly. “A moment longer. I have more to say.”

Astarion’s mind filled with dread. If she terminated their agreement, that would be it—his protection would cease. The possibility of Cazador dragging him off screaming into the shadows, felt more real than it ever had been. Swiftly, his brain sprang into action. He would use whatever methods possible to adapt.

Touch. Comfort. Sex. Promises. Encouragement. Which would she need?

“Don’t keep me in suspense now, my sweet. You know how I hate to wait,” he smirked in his typical silvery tone.

“I’m trying to word this as not to sound like a psychotic lover here,” she laughed anxiously. “But, I have run ’us’ through my mind more times than I can count and I keep wondering if it would be best if we end whatever this is between us. Casual distractions would be much easier if we didn’t see each other everyday, but we don’t have that luxury and—

“Do you even like me?” Tav questioned wearily. It was apparent such ideas had been consuming her.

No.

“Do I like you? I mean, you definitely have a certain set of allures about you,” he answered slowly. He wasn’t lying about her qualities—if that’s what people choose to call them—but, no, he did not care for her.

A grimace settled on her expression as she removed her hand from his.

“Were you expecting a more defined answer?”

The bard chewed at her lip lightly with her front tooth. “I’m expecting something that doesn’t feel like you’re acting on stage,” she replied stiffly. “You seem so versed in saying all the right things, but there is a pit in my stomach warning me it’s not all true. I don’t want you to force yourself with me.”

Oh, but he would force himself. His survival depended on it.

The spawn ran his hand through his curls, flashing a glib smile she didn’t detect. “Ha! Could that be your own insecurities speaking? Or shall I get down on my knees and recite a sonnet of my undying affections for you? Would you believe me then?”

Turning away, she looked past him towards the ground. “Is it so wrong for me to desire something real, Astarion?”

Hope.

She wanted hope.

He could perform hope.

The vampire enclosed her ruddy cheek with his hand, thumbing a gentle swipe across the roundest point. She shut her eyelids lazily, microscopic tears still adhering on her lashes like diamond dust.

“Don’t turn away from me, Tavelle,” he commanded her gently. “A woman that has as much to offer as you, deserves to hold her head up high and be worshiped.”

As if to confirm her yearning for him, her eyes roamed half-opened to search his face. She fisted the ruffling of his shift tightly, pulling herself taut against his chest to crash her lips fervently against his with a tight gasp.

The kiss was urgent. Delivered as if they’d both turn into smoke in an instant. Like she’ll lose me someday, Astarion thought.

He could hear her heartbeat stepping out of its darkness, begging, begging, begging him to cradle her adorations for him.

Kneading his pale lips on hers instinctually, she tangled a free hand into waves of silvery-white earning her a low hum from the deepest reaches of his voice box. “Star…" she incanted into his mouth.

Fluidly, he reached up to unpin her hair, allowing her tresses to fall over her shoulders. He decorated his lithe digits with her silken strands, tugging her head gently backwards to drop fervid pecks down her throat. She cried out, sputtering lilting syllables of his name everytime he idly rearranged his hold on her hair.

Tav held onto his arms as he worked his tongue in circles. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me,” she pleaded, clawing at his clothes.

Releasing her hair, he pulled Tav back in to seam their mouths together. She sucked tenderly on his upper lip, grazing her tongue horizontally across it, before she finally nipped at it playfully.

He pushed his nose into her cheek, abruptly stopping them. She was short of breath, heaving in anticipation for him to kiss her again.

Grabbing her chin firmly, Astarion’s eyes flitted down to her lips as he spoke mere centimeters from them. ”You’ve slowly been driving me insane,” he roughly asserted, avoiding her want for affirmations.

She snuck her fingers up the length of him, lacing them behind his neck. Her lips parted, a husky reply threatening to swallow them whole. “What do you mean to do with me then?”

A lukewarm thumb found safety pressed against her lips. The tip of her tongue tunneled through the gap of her mouth and licked a teasing small patch of skin on the inside of it. Debauched images of him drawing blood from her tongue filled his mind. Biting and biting every inch of her supple flesh until he had his fill of her essence settling like a fine wine in his veins. He panted maddeningly at the thought, his shaft hardening immediately.

Then, the minx slinkingly shifted onto his lap, encircling her legs on either side of his hips. She undulated on the length of his bulge compressed in the middle of her soaked smalls and his trousers. Insolently, she yanked a handful of his hair. He hissed at the delicious pain now aching through his cock and the back of his head.

Pallid dexterous hands ripped the front of her shirt open, cutting buttons loose to fly into the air. The strength of his paw found her breast hiding behind the torn fabric and he squeezed it considerably, pinching an erect nipple. She moaned his name, trying to keep her body upright.

Sharp teeth nibbled a sliver of flesh near the corner of her lips. “Is this what you need? For me to take you as I please?”

Tav nodded innocently, her whole body turning flush with desire.

And then something feral snapped inside of Astarion. That spine-tingling rapacious trait that was half vampire and half carnal man. He could have her if he wanted her; whenever he wanted. Fill him with her blood just to sate him. Her life belonged to him, if he so chose to take it.

“You can follow instructions properly, can’t you sweetheart?” Astarion grumbled as he tucked strands of her hair behind her ear. A strangled noise squeaked from her mouth as she shook her head. “Good. Now listen closely: I want you to unlace my pants, push your smalls to the side, and slide my cock inside that very wet slit of yours.”

The songstress whimpered, whilst she untied the bindings of his fly. “I want to be good for you, Astarion.”

Fuck, his name sounded like the filthiest sin coming from her mouth.

He peeled back the material of her shirt from her heaving bosom, exposing her soft milkiness. Humming around one of her pink buds that popped into his mouth, he felt her remove him from his pants with a few precursory strokes. Instinctively, his gaze feasted on the light bluish veins spreading across her breasts. Just a single bite couldn’t hurt?

“Hells,” he groaned as she sunk the crown of his cock into her clenching heat. “You like being this drenched for me, don’t you?”

“Only you…gods…make me like this,” Tav sang out, holding the back of his head while she adjusted to him inside her.

Her wetness dripped down his length as she stuffed him further into her, trickling down to settle on his testicles. A howling wail started from the middle of Tav’s diaphragm up through her windpipe when she glided up his erect prick once and came back down to his hilt. Astarion chased her mouth with his, muffling her frenzy with open-mouthed kisses.

“Shhh. Shh, songbird,” he hushed in a chuckle. “We are about to wake the lot of this camp soon.”

“I’m sorry. Just love…having you…inside of me,” she giggled lowly, kissing him with blistering ardor between her words.

Surprising the bard by grabbing under her ass, Astarion cajoled her to ride the stiff hardness in his lap. Tav hooked herself onto his shoulders, using them for support while she bounced upon him. Her tits brushed against his shirt with her movements, causing her swollen buds to stay hardened.

My prodigal son, what do we have here?

Master.

Ah, of course. Tonight would belong to the echoes of Cazador. There would be no need for the paralysis that enthralled the spawn’s body to take over, not when his master’s commands needed to be minded.

The vampire busied his fingertips by pressing them further into her flesh, focusing on her slickness encompassing all those nerves at the tip of his cock. He pushed her all the way down to his base, relishing the swaddling of her warmth around him.

A bard, hmm? Bring her to me.

Yes, master.

He reached a hand down in between them to swipe his thumb through her folds, caressing her clit in gentle circles. Tav’s mouth formed into a small “o.”

Look at her—enjoying your flesh like a whore. She’s exactly like all the others. You are only meant to satisfy her needs as a means to fulfill my hunger.

I won’t disobey you master.

“My sweet, turn around and let me fuck you from behind,” he urged mildly, trying to maintain his composure.

Astarion couldn’t let her see. He was steadily losing his grip on their surroundings, disappearing into the quilted stars of the night sky he summoned as he disconnected. If she saw he wasn’t present again, she would send him away.

Tav didn’t respond, continuing to pump his shaft with her tight cunt at a steady pace. She opened and closed her mouth in silent moans, replaced by heady breaths. Did she not hear him? He placed his hands on her waist attempting to settle her motions.

Would you like to hear her sing, Astarion? How do you think she’ll sound with her blood gurgling in her throat as I feed from her?

“Turn around,” he demanded firmly.

Body slowing to a near halt, she cupped his cheeks with a litany of fingers rasping the sharpness of his bones. She pressed a peck to his lips. “Lover, I want to look into your eyes while I’m on top.”

He bucked his hips maneuvering his legs to lift her off of him enough to push her down onto her bedroll. Spreading her legs open, he swiftly settled in between her thighs, and brashly reentered her with a concrete plunge. The bard yelped in shock, clutching his biceps tightly.

Soulmates? Tsk. Did my beloved spawn forget that he is not allowed to be connected to anything except me? Get rid of her mark.

I wish to please you master. Allow me to show my fealty to you.

His vision rapidly moved from side to side until he arched Tav into him to rest his forehead onto her soulmate mark, hiding, endeavoring it to disappear on its own so he wouldn’t have to hurt her. He thrust up into her hurriedly, trying to chase her to the banks of her climax to end his delusions.

“Wait,” she uttered as he drove into her.

Astarion ignored her, opening his mouth to frame his teeth around her soul mark. He must dispose of it.

“Astarion, no. Don’t bite there,” Tav ordered, snaring his curls at the root. “Look at me. Please.”

He’s everywhere. He knows where I am. He’s already taken everything from me. I’ll never be free, Astarion screamed inwardly in anguish.

His fangs pricked the first layer of her epidermis, pellets of crimson gathering around the invasion. The bard severely yanked his head to detach him, dribbles of her blood coating his lips. “I said no! GET OFF OF ME,” she shrieked, thrashing her body under him.

They became motionless. Her face had morphed into thousands upon thousands of blurry conquests. Voices: high and low, moaning, whispering their pleasures. Luring each of them in the dead of night to their death eternal. And Astarion, bound to the scaffold with a noose around his neck, forever being led back into Cazador’s arms.

And then her eyes were suddenly there in focus. Afraid and sorrowful. Full of tears. For her. For him. Rainy storm clouds floating across the earth. Tav with her inquisitor view, leading him on a pilgrimage away from the haunts of his deadened soul.

She covered her nakedness, pulling her ripped shirt over her breasts. Two pin prick spots of blood seeped through the fabric, reminding him of his violation. He was disgusted with himself.

What had he done?

“Tav, I’m sor—” Astarion proclaimed hoarsely, loosening his brace on her waist.

Tav reached up to place a hand on his cheek. “Leave,” her voice whispered sternly.

He couldn’t wash this away and escape what he was made into.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Burning iron-vine powder levitated in a cloudy haze around them.

A Gur?! A godsdamned bloody Gur. Cazador’s cruel humor never seemed to fail; he must have sent him.

His mind started to race. Astarion’s safety may be coming to an end. It was a misjudgement to ever presume that he could disappear without facing the repercussions of his former master. Would he ever have somewhere to land from all this falling?

“You’re Astarion?!” The monster hunter loudly said in surprise. “Apologies to your companions, but you’ll need to come with me.”

“Gandrel, was it? I’m not going anywhere.” Astarion removed the blade from his back, pointing it towards the man.

“Fuck! This is bad,” Karlach muttered to Wyll.

“Then, I’m afraid I have no choice but to take you by force,” Gandrel declared, shooting an ‘Ensnaring Strike’ spell at both the vampire and fiery woman.

Thorny vines raised up around their legs, holding them in place. Astarion sliced at them, trying to wriggle free, but the bindings only reinforced their seizure. “Uh, a little help?!”

He was too distracted to fight. Flooded by the memory of how Tav’s tears flowed like blown stars living their final moments. But, he could still feel her hands upon his cheeks. Her hands where flowers bloomed in the dark; flowers that emerged wherever she appeared.

Karlach swung her axe in a criss-cross pattern. “I can’t move! Wyll, you’ll need to repel him!”

Wyll lunged forward casting an Eldritch Blast that narrowly missed the hunter’s cheek. “Damn!”

Gandrel placed another arrow in his crossbow, aiming it at the spawn as he approached. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, but you’re needed else—”

The hunter suddenly collapsed onto one knee, a spray of blood ejecting from his mouth. He looked down at the arrow protruding out of his right side, then looked past the spawn.

Astarion followed his gaze, mouth wide open in shock when he reached his destination. “Songbird? But why?! I don't—”

Tav threw down her bow, reaching to unsheathe her rapier. “You’re a beacon of trouble, ‘Star.”

[astarionsblueundies]

Gandrel: "Are you alright my friend? You look a little Pale."

This was so sad to me 😭 Playing the Astarion Origin run has been kind of rough because I am missing Tav to comfort him so much. When Astarion meets Gandrel in the swamp, the ONLY person that checks in on him during, or even after the conversation is fucking Gandrel (for the obvious reason that he doesn't know with whom he's speaking). I thought for sure someone would jump in, or at least have something to say afterwards at camp that night, but noooope. Astarion just has to go it alone. Have this conversation with a man who is hunting him. Have this stranger look him in the eye and say how he wishes he could kill this Astarion. He has to process this all in real time and maintain his facade all while his companions stand silently behind him and do nothing but look on. Look how scared he is 😭😭😭

Narrator: "You remember the night well. The shouts of battle, the screams of the children as you dragged them away..."

2. "I wouldn't blame the vampire spawn. I hear they have to follow their master's orders."

He can't even help but defend himself even though it's an objectively a stupid thing to do. Defending the Vampire Spawn to the Monster Hunter? Yeah, that only hurts his cover.

It puts him at risk of the thing he fears the most, being captured and brought back within Cazador's grasp, but he can't even help himself.

Somewhere in his little babygirl head, making that comment was worth the risk. He so desperately wants someone, anyone, even this guy he hates, to recognize and validate that his actions under Cazador are not who he is. (Naturally Gandrel dismisses this quickly.)

[astriel-nya]

Some people seem to think that he suddenly turns evil after he Ascends while ignoring pre-ascension:

-Him pulling a knife on you when you first meet him, threatening you.

-On the first bite where he sneaks up on you in your sleep to bite you without consent, if you fail skill checks he won't care about you telling him to stop and he kills you. Then after speaking to him about it the morning after, he doesn't care.

-Him grabbing his sibling Petras by the throat and burning him under the sun's rays, torturing him to extract information.

-Stabbing an innocent Gur Gandrel in the eyeball, killing him.

-Him lying, manipulating and seducing you for protection?

-He's literally racist to Gur, Halflings and Gnomes?

-Him supporting slavery (he approves when you buy the painter as a slave and disapproves when you help the gnomes escape slavery).

-Before he turned he was a "corrupt elite" confirmed in the artbook.

-Is extremely power hungry and selfish, wants to control the Absolute cult and dominate the world.

[saltybiowarefantears]

meeting Gandrel after the tiefling party

[jacqcrisis]

The impromptu (but necessary) fight with the monster hunter Gandrel went... we'll say poorly for Astarion. Ronan's blessing on them could only help so much and as the hunter focused him down with a barrage of burning crossbolts, it was easy to start making mistakes. The thought of killing the man with his teeth was too poetic to deny, but ended with a bolt to his stomach and his knees meeting the ground with the rest of him swift to follow.

Six seconds of panic. Of pain. Of being assured he'd met his end, his flesh burnt and the bolt in his stomach twisted and deep.

But there it was. A rapturous feeling. A holy light lifting him from edge when it should have been shoving him down, and through the smoke, Astarion met Ronan's burning eye as he healed him with a prayer and a snarl before a morning star to the temple sent the hunter to the ground instead.

He struggled to stand until there was a clawed hand around his arm, pulling him up, patting out whatever was still burning on him. A potion thrust in his hand. An order growled out to the other two they'll be making camp early tonight, followed by a flurry of activity he scant remembers much of besides holding the thing in him still.

The first step is taking out the bolt before the sun is set and a fire is built. He assures Ronan he's been through worse, tells him about it, about who no doubt sent the hunter as the cleric still works efficiently and lays him down. Carefully takes off his burnt armor and clothes for Gale to mend with his magic.

It'd be intimate in any other setting, but prodding claws dipping into the wound to find the barbs of the bolt make it anything but. And when it's time to pull it out, Ronan prepares him, talks him through what will happen, offers to hold his hand.

"You know, despite the face, your bedside manner is impeccable." He teases breathily, looking anywhere but the fist the size of his head grasping the shaft sticking out of him.

It earns him something approximating a grin before the bolt is pulled free in a single motion, a rough palm on his chest keeping him from curling in on himself from the pain. It is tossed elsewhere, Ronan's free hand slapped over the hole in him with another prayer that fills his lungs with air and numbs the hurt, expediting the healing that will happen after he's gotten something to eat.

When he's caught his breath and Ronan has taken his hand away, he sits Astarion up, inspecting smaller wounds. The burns, the cuts, the splinters of wood from the shattered bolts lodged in his skin. With his claws and some tweezers, he pulls them out, inspecting anything bleeding with a practiced eye.

"You don't have to do that, really-"

"Heals better." He says gruffly, brushing him off, contrasting the care with which he extracts another splinter and the gentle way he holds onto Astarion's arm. "You wouldn't want anything stuck in you."

He changes the subject, asks further about Cazador to keep him busy. And busy it does, like a poison being expelled from him. Even the small amount he relays is enough for a different kind of relief, one that's compounded as Ronan assures Astarion he'll watch his back should anyone else sent their way.

Once he's satisfied, Ronan sits back, goes for his bag for any kind of burn relief but Astarion stays him. Assures him he'll be fine after he gets something to eat, shockingly prompting Ronan to ask if he needs help. He points out he's still weak, staring pointedly as Astarion struggles to stay sitting upright, the muscles in his abdomen still freshly mended.

"There is, ah, one way you could help." Astarion says, "A little top up couldn't hurt. I wouldn't take much. Just enough to...speed things along."

He gives Astarion long stare, and for a moment he assumes it'll be another no until there's a clink as he undoes the leather at his wrist, presenting it to Astarion without a word. Doesn't flinch or look away as he bites through the delicate scales found there. Astarion can feel his pulse on his tongue, beating rapid as he watches his blood be taken.

Perhaps he isn't the only one enjoying the moment.

When Ronan pulls away, he is quick to stay the bleeding with a prayer, but Astarion is quicker to snatch his arm back. Lap up whats left and confirm what he's suspecting at the flare of nostrils and the fiery pupils dilating at the sight. He's not as indecipherable as first appears.

"You were going to wipe it away anyways. Why let a good thing go to waste?"

There's that rumbling hum again, a sound he's finding to mean the man is pleased by something. Ronan still stands though, tells him to rest a little more before he goes off hunting. Says he'll keep an eye out for his return.

Astarion watches him leave, lumbering toward Lae'zel to see over her burns and no doubt be told off for the recklessness that got them here. There's still pain, but it's waning under the prayers and the blood on his tongue. He'll get up in a moment, content to lay here, this modicum of safety one to enjoy.

[zenosyneee]

The Spawn and the Siren

Chapter 4: The Devil you don't remember.

Astarion does some self-reflection as he lays out his plans, the siren meets her butler... and the party becomes acquainted with a cunning devil that seems to already know Zenosyne...

This is my first attempt at a multi chapter fanfiction in a very long time.

Some weeks had passed following the events at Ethel’s cottage, and Zenosyne found herself heartbroken at what she had seen of who she was. Still, she longed to learn so much more about herself. The revelations imparted to her left more questions in her mind than they had answered. Who was Raphael? Who was the pale, otherworldly woman she had called sister? Why was her mind burdened with the overwhelming allure of blood and death?

Like so many times before, she found herself in her siren form, laying in the river as it ran over her like a baptism washing away whatever sins of the day that she had committed. Her skin was cold, and the icy waters made her feel alive and grounded when her mind would pull her to dark places. Lazily her tail swayed back and forth as it pulled the water along in its wake. Her arms were crossed out in front of her as she laid on her stomach. Her head rested firmly in her forearms as the little parasite wiggled in her mind with power.

There was still the matter of her bloodlust. She pondered over the guilt that gnawed in her mind over what she had been wont to do over the past few weeks. When her secrets began to unravel before herself and the members of the party, and she realized that silent powers were hidden in her siren form, she used them as a shield against her fears. Unsuspecting goblins and other enemies would find themselves entranced up until the moment she would strike- each time she became more and more creative with her deadly fury, savoring the chase. Her blade tasted blood at every chance she could find. And while the others did what they had to in order to survive, she lay there in the water trying to quiet the loud voice in her head that berated her and demeaned her. She found no comfort in who she was finding herself to be. Neither did the others that she traveled with.

Then, there was still the matter of Astarion to reckon with. Following her near-demise Astarion had carried her back to the camp until she found the strength within her to walk again. The others had seen as much as she had in her dreams as they looked into the hag’s mirror, and their trust in her wavered. Very few sirens still existed, and what few did still live remained in hiding beneath the dark oceans. They remained ever loyal to Umberlee and to themselves alone, finding no allies on the surface. Astarion had teased her at first about it.

“Such a rare catch you are, little fish!” He had said in that melodic, seductive tone of his that pulled at Zenosyne’s mind even in her sleep. “Aren’t we lucky to have found you. Now, you know my secret, and I know your’s!”

He was of course referring to what had been revealed the day that Gandrel had announced he was searching for the vampire spawn Astarion. The way that Zenosyne had, without missing a beat, nodded and played along with the ruse had shocked him. She’d unquestioningly protected his identity- and then protected his life that day. It was the first moment in his life, he recalled, that he felt as though someone other than himself was watching his back. That was the moment he realized he did not want to have to go without that ever again. If the siren was willing to stick her neck out for him, he would play that card for as long as he could. It had been a knee-jerk reaction from years of survival at the hands of Cazador. Yet, the longer he thought about it- the more he felt like her demonstration of care had meant even more to him that he wanted to acknowledge.

I’m not a details person, Astarion thought to himself, …But I can enjoy this, can’t I? I don’t see why I can’t enjoy it. I deserve it, after all. I’m owed something for myself after all these years of misery and hells.

“You seem to be the only one making light of this discovery.” She replied, unable to hold back the quiet sigh that danced on the edge of being a laugh.

“Darling, I don’t care what you are, or where you came from, when you’ve proven to be such a formidable adversary to our foes.” He had remained on the word darling for a moment- he knew that she had taken notice of his suggestive pet names- small hints at his master plan. She was falling hard.

“And what’s more” he went on, “It’s always a pleasure to see a siren ensnare her prey so close- at a distance most mortals could only dream of and live to tell the tale.” One of his pale, dexterous hands reaching up to grasp at the air in front of him- just close enough to her face to keep her eyes busy as she absorbed his words like a sponge.

“Some people would call me a monster.” She said plainly, her eyes betrayed her reticence to accept his praise.

“Some people would call me a monster.” He echoed.

His simple statement left Zenosyne open mouthed- ready for her rebuttal. She found none. He was right. He was, by definition, like her. Monstrous.

“That gives me an unreasonable feeling of...?” She struggled to find the words that might describe the feeling that made her shoulders relax, and her breath release from their tight grip within her lungs. At her genuine shift in demeanor, she thought she saw a hint of something change in his eyes- as if he were faltering. His sure and arrogant smirk cracked for a split second, but whatever she saw- or thought that she saw disappeared just as soon as it had come.

“I feel like…”

“Feeling… understood?” He asked. His voice was a little lower this time. There were less theatrics behind his stance now. His arms fell slightly under an invisible weight. The truth was, he was very good at what he did. He could lead someone on and seduce them into doing whatever he wanted. It took a little poise and tweaks here and there to appease the individual in question, but the game remained largely the same. However, it would work often enough and quickly- so that all of it was over by morning, and he could move on to the next one. There were few facades he had to maintain for this amount of time. He tried desperately not to get to know the people that he…

No, no stop it now. Astarion thought to himself.

“I think so.” She said, even quieter. She reached out to him instinctively, as if to find some kind of comfort. She didn’t expect him to flinch at her advancement- and when she saw it, she let her arms fall quickly, her hands grasping each other in front of her.

“Thank you.” She said quickly, turning away from him. “That means more to me than I can say, truly.”

Her mind snapped back into the present, and the cold water suddenly felt a little warmer. Her face lifted from it’s daydream to meet the eyes of a terrifying, quite ugly creature.

“Your excellence!” it said.

She screamed. It was the small butler she had seen in the dream she had while under the hag’s spell. His tall hat smelled of the hells- like he had just come from the inside of a hot, raging volcano.

“No, no, your unholiness, please! Don’t be alarmed! I bring you gifts!” He bowed low, his voice excited. “A small piece of your most wonderful inheritance.”

“Inheritance? Are you the…”

“Sceleritas Vel, my lady. Your butler, humbly at your service as I have always been, and always will be!”

A red cloak appeared suddenly in his outstretched hands, his face still downturned in reverence at her shocked expression.

“Tell me who I am!” She demanded. She wasted no time in getting to the point. She wanted answers.

“No, no, my lady I’m afraid I cannot do that. That is not for me to reveal, not for me to say!” A hint of nervousness was in his voice now. He feared what she might do.

“But know, my lady, that your actions have not gone unnoticed by your father. He is most pleased with the fearsome initiative you have taken of late!” The excitement in Sceleritas Vel’s voice began to rise up again.

“Initiative? I wouldn’t call it initiative. I’ve been unable to… stop myself.” She said, her brows raising together in concern.

“Because you cannot hide from who you are destined to be- who you have always been destined to become!” He said, his encouragement would have been very motivational, if it were used for the right purpose. As it was- his words were bittersweet to Zenosyne and twisted with evil she could not ignore.

“What CAN you tell me?!” She shouted, grabbing at his jacket collar. She shook him with fury in her eyes and bared her teeth. She felt her gums in her mouth give way a little- and it almost felt like a relief when the long, needle like teeth pushed their way through. Her grimace widened to an unnatural size- what was once a pair of rosy cheeks was now all sharp and curved fangs, overlapping and horrifyingly sharp. Her lips were something in between a wicked smile and a forceful display of rage- and where her nose had been, a scaly nose-like feature flared with sharp breaths.

“I… No! No, My lady please, do not unleash your anger at me! I have and always will live to-”

Startled by her own growls, Zenosyne let go of Sceleritas. With a gasp her face quickly eased back into the one she had come to know up until that point. She had never become a monster like that before. Not insofar as she just had. She had literally changed her form again- into a creature worse than she’d seen in her own twisted nightmares.

She stood up, her tail turning into legs. Slipping her beaded skirt back on with shaking hands she hastily strode in the direction of the campsite. She watched as her companions went about their own business.

Shadowheart was gently and absently petting scratch as she read a book. Gale was reading as well, but much more intently. His eyes scanned old pages that crinkled loudly under his touch. Wyll rested with eyes that slowly blinked away sleep- trying to remain awake at the fireside while Karlach put up her tent.

Just as Zenosyne entered the clearing where the others sat around restlessly, the sound of flames burst from the ground- a place where she’d not ever seen them come from before. She jumped and let out a shriek that caught the attention of the others. Wyll had already drawn a blade from his side- Astarion remaining low in his instinctive prowl. Karlach bolted upright and made no hesitation in picking up her greataxe. Lae’zel was even quicker to assume an offensive stance.

“A devil!” Karlach shouted, knowing right away what was coming.

Yet instead of the flaming, fearsome creature they were all anticipating rising out of the fires and smoke, a tall and proud figure of a man stood before them. His navy doublet pristinely kept and his hair neatly combed to rest with careful control at his shoulders. His expression was one of amusement.

“Well, well, well” He said, very slowly. “…What’s better than the devil you don’t know….?”

Painfully, Zenosyne waited for him to do something. Her heart pounded and she looked to the others, who seemed just as confused as she.

“The devil you do.” He finished.

Before any more could be said, Karlach cut the tension in the air with resolution in her voice- “He’s not some friendly face, despite what he’s making you think” Karlach said, “Don’t trust him. They’re all like that. Devious fuckers.”

“… And what about the devil I can’t quite… remember? Are you another infernal butler?” She asked.

“Hah! Don’t flatter yourself, little mermaid!” He laughed heartily. “Allow me to introduce myself to you once again, sweet Zenosyne.”

The well-kept human looking devil bowed his head and shoulders ever so slightly, as if to show respect but not inferiority.

“Lord Raphael. Son of Mephistopheles.”

“Oh, hells!” Karlach shouted in rage.

“Precisely!” Raphael said with a smile. “But you, Lady Zenosyne, have always had better taste for where you rest than can be afforded out here in the wilds. Allow me to bring us to a more… comfortable place to discuss the matters at hand.”

Just as he had appeared before them, so did they all suddenly appear in a beautifully decorated dining hall. The hall was rounded, columns all around them leading the way in three directions from the large, circular marble dining table that stood prominently in the center of the room. A fire flickered atop an immensely large painting of Raphael himself that was framed in the finest gold money- or, souls- could buy.

“The House of Hope. A most luxurious place in which you formerly loved to spend time.” He said, hands extended to urge Zenosyne to turn around. There was an endless feast of the finest, most beautiful foods she had seen until now.

She chuckled. One thing that she knew about herself- if anything, was that she had an insatiable sweet tooth. Before he could invite her to indulge herself in the exquisite options laid out before them she reached out to one of the little towers that held the small, rich chocolate cakes and popped it in her mouth.

“Don’t restrain yourself on my behalf, please, help yourself.” Raphael teased.

She reached for another, and with her other hand began to sort through the decadent desserts assorted on a silver tray nearby as well.

“We’re in the hells.” Karlach said, a bit of relief in her voice from the eased pain in her chest. Her engine felt a little less hot here.

“I’d know the stench anywhere.” Wyll confirmed, “And the… company.” He sneered. Judgement on his face as he watched Zenosyne dig into the delicious food without hesitation.

“And, ah… how exactly do you know our companion here, if she doesn’t know you?” Astarion spoke up, inserting himself into the conversation.

Raphael turned slowly to the now concerned looking vampire spawn. Zenosyne looked at Astarion out of the corner of her eye as she chewed the overly sweet cake. Astarion’s eyes were wider than she’d seen them before, almost a look of vulnerability. He looked almost childlike when the devil scoffed at him. Then, he recollected himself and sneered back.

“You have a bit of a problem, don’t you, little mermaid?” Raphael asked pointedly, “Yet another resident within your mind. One uninvited guest that won’t leave your brain.”

“You know it?” She asked, her mouth still full of the sticky icing.

He chuckled, “I do. If you… wanted help… you know, you used to come to me for help…” Raphael started.

“Don’t” Karlach interrupted, and Wyll looked at Karlach in silent agreement. His nod said all that he was thinking. There was no trust for this devil among her companions.

Raphael looked at Zenosyne, the dark green locs that fell in soft waves down to her waist swayed with her alluring siren’s magic. To be certain, Raphael mused, she would not have been some extraordinary beauty if she were just another woman. What made her beautiful was a combination of her magic, her easy and soft voice, and the way she knew just how to look into one’s eyes as if the world started and stopped in their gaze. It was enough to make mortals feel something between being needed and wanted. This was the draw of a siren.

Raphael was lost for a moment, thinking about how she had looked at him with those eyes not so long ago in the soft glow of the caverns of the hells. She had come to him, using every charm she had to convince him to help her to escape the temple of Bhaal she called her prison. He heard her pleading voice in his mind again, her small, soft hands resting on his chest as she pleaded. She rested her head there, nestling into him.

“I cannot stay here, with him. I need to go up there. I need to see Faerun for myself.” She cried gently into Raphael’s arms, salty tears falling from her black lashes. “My father would have me live and die down here. What if I don’t want it?” She went on.

“You poor, sweet thing.” He had said, finally pulling her from his chest. “My precious little siren. I would deny you nothing in this world.”

Raphael blinked away the memory.

“I… don’t know If I am willing to take a deal with a devil.” Zenosyne said.

It was a far cry from the pleading girl he once knew. She had no idea.

“I will be here, Zenosyne. Just as I always have been. And when you realize you need me, you will return.” He said.

And suddenly, they were back in their camp.

“My cake!” She cried out, her hands now empty. “Well, shit.”

[vividiana]

your OC's personality

thank you @obsessedwhyyes for the tag and for yet another opportunity to talk about my redeemed Durge, Eve 🫶🏻

I need to get more screenshots of my girl but in the meantime, here are some pics form a moodboard I made for her a while back:

answers below the cut (they include some Dark Urge spoilers)

how would you describe their personality? I talked about this a bit here, but basically: loyal, determined, honest, caring, extremely self-critical, both an overthinker and quite impulsive (she will often blurt things out before stopping to think about her words,) very curious about the world (she wants to learn as much as she can and loves to meet new people and listen to their stories.)

what brings your character joy? post-Netherbrain, Eve has become a homebody. the idea is quite novel to her–having this space that she can truly call hers, where nothing is expected of her, there are no foes to fight or cataclysms to prevent. her favorite days are when she can stay home with Astarion and relish this comfort she never really knew before. she's also an avid reader and will devour any number of books, mostly non-fiction, because she wants to rebuild her knowledge of the world after having forgotten most of it.

what does your character strongly dislike? more than just dislike, but not quite hate? hm... I guess this sense that she never truly belonged anywhere. she doesn't have a lineage she could track, or a family in the traditional sense of the word. she was just... made for one purpose and one purpose only, and after that's gone, after Bhaal disowned her, she's just this oddly isolated individual, the Child of None as Withers called her. but isn't that what found families are for?

is your OC scared of anything? losing control. hurting those she loves. does that sound familiar? basically, the night the Urge set out to kill Astarion was Eve's worst nightmare coming true.

what is their alignment? chaotic good. she strives to do the right thing, but doesn't necessarily care much for rules. she also definitely murdered some people just because they really annoyed her or offended/threatened those she cares about (side-eyeing Gandrel and Esther) and she has precisely zero regrets about that.

it took me a week to respond to this, so some of you have probably been tagged already, but still: @khywren @xxnashiraxx @verbenaa @funniestbitchinfaerun–I'd love to read your answers if you feel like sharing ✨

[lemonhemlock]

BG3 anon here. Glad to see you've finally dealt with Ethel! The trick with the Protection Against Evil and Good is really neat, when I first played the game I had no idea it could work like that! I remember putting one of the masks on my Tav and she got possessed by it so I ended up fighting her minions and knocked all of them out except one. I'll definitely use that trick in my second playthrough though, I already reached level 4 and will have to deal with her soon enough. By the way, to successfully knock out a character you can't use ranged attacks and spells on them, that might be why you got all her servants killed. Or, if you use such attacks make sure the last, dealing blow isn't one of those, but a melee one (so swords, axes, maces, thing like that). Also, try not to use poison on your weapons or inflict other lasting conditions (like bleeding) on your targets as that can fuck the whole thing up in case the character you want to knock out is one of those who can show up later in the game. You should be safe though if the game says they are knocked out and they don't die when you exit the combat.

I wouldn't worry at all about missing some any important items from Ethel. She had a nice staff you could buy (you'll find better ones soon enough anyway) and some potions of Hill Giant Strength which are great, but it's not like you can't go on without them. Plus, you will meet other merchants selling those.

Yes, the dialogue with Gandrel is different depending on whether or not you found out the truth about Astarion being a vampire. It's also a bit different if you meet him without Astarion in your party! Honestly, I don't know if knocking out Gandrel works. Some characters will appear later on if you don't kill them and choose to knock them out instead (like Minthara will) but for story reasons I assume, some others won't. It is possible the game will consider him dead regardless, despite him not being technically dead. The only thing I want to point out is that it makes absolute sense from a role-playing perspective for Tav to deal with him considering he's looking after one of your companions and let's be honest, it's not like a monster hunter will spare a vampire once he's done with it. After all, vampires are considered irredeemably evil monsters in their world. I do agree that him trying to get help from a hag is quite stupid, he should know better being a monster hunter, shouldn't he?

As for Mayrina, I don't think you can grab Connor without her knowing so I would ignore her cries...she's better off without his stinky zombie ass anyway.

you're very welcome about the Protection Against Evil spell!

i think that's where i failed with the masks, because i used ranged attacks and spells on them. it would have been way easier to incapacitate them first and then just fight ethel with 3 people. if you succeed in doing that, make sure that, when you loot their knocked-out bodies, you don't take their masks off. otherwise they die. just take their other stuff

i dunno if gandrel will appear again in this act at least but if he pesters me i will deal with him at the time :)) aside from seeking help from ethel of all people, i'm not sure i can blame him for hunting a vampire (conceptually-speaking). ofc, astarion insisted that he must have been hired by cazador, but i clicked the option of asking why would the gur work with another vampire?

he told me they might not be aware who they're working for. but you know. :)) i'm already aware astarion did do some shitty things to the gurs :))

i'll see if i can make it up to the gurs later on

yeah, you know, i feel like after all this work i'd have earned at least a persuasion check on mayrina! i did leave her her necklace and all. this was hilarious bc she started talking to the nearest person, which just so happened to be astarion, and i made him say very sympathising things that i'm sure he very much did not mean :)) and, after all this bashing, i do have to say i thought it relatively cute how, when you enter turn-based combat with him against ethel, he tells you smth like "if you want to save the girl, you have to do it NOW". i was expecting him to advise me to ditch her and save our necks or start blaming me lol. it's the bare minimum in this camp!

[masterskywalkers]

Played a little bit more of Prince's playthrough today and I have to say, seeing how their interactions are with Astarion considering I'm not planning to romance him is really interesting.

Unlike Tavanna (romance) and Naberius (short fling before hearing Astarion's truth and deciding he needed a friend more), Prince is a lot more cautious and wary towards Astarion. They don't dislike him, but they do sense that there is much more to his character than what Astarion is letting on, and the way things developed in-game today between conversation options and decisions taken really made the moment Astarion decides to work on seducing/manipulating a Tav to ensure his own safety more obvious.

A few things to note for Prince that are important before I unravel this play session:

Prince let Astarion drink from them, but died during the event. They've never really let Astarion forget it, and are more wary of how Astarion feeds (Tavanna and Naberius were a lot more willing and offering to it when and if Astarion needs it, whereas Prince sees the risk to it)

Prince learned about Astarion's vampirism much sooner than Tavanna and Naberius did. Rather earlier on, in fact - and now that their party is heading to Ethel's swamp, they have this knowledge when meeting Gandrel.

Prince however knows nothing about Cazador before Gandrel. Astarion has kept that very hidden.

Before the Gandrel encounter, Astarion's approval meter was at neutral. Both Shadowheart and Wyll (who frequent Princes' parties) were already at high approval. Astarion's changes to high right after Gandrel in Princes' playthrough.

Princes' planned romance is Shadowheart, and the romance path has already started for them.

So the first stage of this breakdown starts with meeting Gandrel in the swamp. As mentioned above, Prince enters this meeting knowing that Astarion is already a vampire, and so when they learn that Gandrel and the Gur are looking to capture him, Princes' alarm bells are set to caution. Prince is a friendly and kind sort, who is doing their best to build trust and friendships with those in the group. So, they keep Astarion's secret for him, and eventually, sensing the danger Gandrel offers, gives Astarion the okay to kill him.

After the battle, Shadowheart quickly says that she's 'surprised Prince sided with Astarion', to which Prince responds that they hope it won't turn out that the decision will bite them in the future (I see what you did there, Prince).

Now, for Astarion, this seems to be a critical moment in which he decides Prince is worth trusting his safety in. Once the party eventually returns to camp a little later and Prince starts their discussions with the party, this is the moment where Astarion freely mentions Cazador to them for the first time. Sure, there's a reluctance to talk about his past - and Prince offers him the choice not to say anything - but Astarion tells Prince the details anyway. Prince listens, and instead of offering hollow or comforting words like 'I'm so sorry that happened to you', they gently press for more understanding of his history.

Prince leaves him alone after the discussion - probably with a lot for Astarion to think on for the evening - and goes to talk to Shadowheart, where they unlock the first romance scene with them (talking together over wine / first kiss). The next morning, Prince and Shadowheart both mentioned that they liked the company they shared.

Now, Prince went to talk to Astarion again after this - mostly because I expected a comment about them and Shadowheart - but what I didn't expect was for Astarion to push the early, pre-tiefling party hookup conversation.

After this discussion when I checked his approval, I was surprised to see it was high already - I've been taking Prince's playthrough slowly! We've only just wrapped up the Shadow Druids story! We're trying to build our money up for the special Zhentarim bow! We haven't even fought the paladins for Karlach, or stepped foot in the Goblin camp. We're only just facing Auntie Ethel in her house? Prince isn't a particularly snarky character - yet this?? Was happening??

Then I realized; storywise, it makes sense for Astarion to choose this moment to put his manipulation into play. He has grown to trust Prince in some respects, enough to know that they can offer a sense of security to him that he hasn't ever had before. He has a place in a party that maybe can take down his abuser if he plays his cards right. Prince knows he's a vampire, has seen him kill a hunter for his own protection, and has heard about Cazador - and yet Astarion still hasn't been shunned or thrown out of the party.

For someone in Astarion's position and with his thoughts and expectations - whilst also seeing a closeness building between the party members (especially with Prince and Shadowheart) - now seems like a perfect time to cement his place in the group.

Yet he believes that all he has to offer is his body, so his only gift to Prince is sex.

During this conversation Prince is very ???, because the alarm bells are ringing for them once again that something is very wrong here. They haven't entertained Astarion's flirtation, as Astarion tries to say that 'they found enjoyment out of Astarion biting them', Prince quickly counters him with the 'not really. I died, remember?' To Prince, there is no reason for this attempt at seduction to be happening - and they're intuitive enough to sense that likely, this isn't even Astarion himself really wants.

There was a moment in this discussion where the dialogue really hit me and how wonderfully the writers have written this if you play a character that truly pushes and challenges Astarion here rather than just immediately responding to it. I purposely play my characters differently from one another as I love seeing how stories can diverge; so for the past seduction scenes (which, mind you, both happened at the party ((although Naberius got a second proposition scene since he ran off with Minthara first at the goblin party))). Tavanna was already fond of Astarion at this stage that she didn't really hesitate to enter a friends-with-benefits situation with him, and Naberius is such a self-centered ass at times that he just went along with it because he thought it would be fun sleeping with Astarion (and he was a bit prideful that Astarion asked twice).

But Prince has no romantic interest at this stage. They consider him a tentative friend, but they consider that about most of their party.

I have to apologize since for the first time I didn't save footage of this (the one playthrough I don't and it's the one that makes me think the most, lol), but the dialogue that hit for me went something like this:

Prince: I didn't enjoy it. I died, remember? Astarion: which is even more reason for me to make it up to you! And what better way to do so than this? Prince: ... you do understand that you don't owe me anything, right? And you certainly don't owe me sex? Astarion: this isn't me owing you as such ...

^ I'm definitely paraphrasing there - but the important thing to note is Astarion makes this offer sound like a transaction he owes, and Prince very quickly notices that and answers with 'you do understand you don't owe me?'

And we know that Astarion, realistically, doesn't know that. He has been conditioned to expect that his worth comes in only what he can offer via his body and that it's a truth he doesn't like, but he knows nothing else so continues with it anyway.

I just found this so interesting because as someone on their 4th playthrough, I know that this is something that gets discussed in more detail in act 2. But to see how the seeds are planted so early in act one and how Astarion's approval isn't so difficult to gain if you listen and seem to value him (again, Prince has had far less interaction with Astarion compared to what Tavanna and Naberius have had on past playthroughs; yet the interactions have been ones that have seemed to resonate with the character: the trust with the vampire reveal, gifting Astarion the book of necromancy, allowing him to protect himself against Gandrel, listening as he spoke about Cazador). I'm also playing on a Tactician run and have purposely been avoiding the use of the 'Friend' spell to help with dice rolls on character discussions. To me, it was just really neat to see how you can choose to challenge the truth of the cruel, harsh world Astarion has been forced to live in for 200 years earlier than perhaps a player thinks they can.