#bg3 fashion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rahuratna · 3 days ago

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Synopsis: You come into some unexpected gold, and decide to treat your companions to a shopping spree. When it comes to this merry band of travelers, however, nothing ever goes smoothly ...

[Astarion x Tav/Reader]

Genres: Romance, humour, fluff, angst.

Warnings: Dirty jokes, Lae'zel's hatred of cardigans.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @roguishcat @obsessedwhyyes @fantasyheroine

(If anyone else would like to be added to my BG3 taglist, please drop me a message or let me know in the comments!)

"Listen, all of you. I've got the perfect thing planned."

Watching their expressions with the air of a circus conjurer, you drew a small leather bag from your jerkin. As you shook it, the contents emitted the pleasant chime and clink of something valuable.

Wyll grinned, one finger tapping his chin.

"If I'm not mistaken, you got lucky with a hunter's stash."

Eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration as he listened to the sounds from within the bag, Astarion nodded sharply.

"You're not mistaken at all Wyll. My darling has found ... let me see ... two diamonds, one jacinth shard, unpolished ... and a tourmaline ring."

A profound silence reigned after this statement. You snorted in amusement and Gale raised an eyebrow.

"Well. A rogue always has his uses, it seems."

You gave Astarion a bow, which he returned, his wrist circling in a mocking flourish.

"Correct, Astarion. And, since I found this little treasure, I've decided what we're going to do with it."

Lae'zel folded her arms.

"One can never have enough weapons."

Karlach groaned.

"Oh, come off. We've done nothing but arm ourselves to the teeth since the beginning. Let's do something else!"

You nodded, a small smile curving your mouth.

"I'm actually with Karlach on this one. Listen, protecting ourselves is important, and an absolute necessity. But we've picked up some good gear on the way here and it's about time we looked after our morale too."

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"All right, I hear you. What do you have in mind?"

You clapped your hands together and beamed around.

"Clothes shopping. I mean, look at us. Most of what we're wearing is holding on by a thread and prayer and we've never prioritized that on the road here. Plus, there're all the recent battles we've been through, both in the city and out of it. Let's get ourselves a few outfits. Have a bath in a proper tub. Have a nice meal. No harm in that, is there?"

You heard cheers and murmurs of assent all round and nodded in satisfaction. Only Lae'zel still seemed put out by the need for what she termed 'frivolous nonsense'. Wyll patted her shoulder placatingly.

"You'll see what we mean soon enough, Lae'zel. Just join us. You won't regret it. Think of it as ... learning yet another Faerûnian custom."

Once your party had reached the city, you decided to split into groups in order to peruse the variety of clothing stores and boutiques on offer. You set upon the Elfsong Tavern as the place to meet after your shopping had been completed.

Your group consisted of Astarion, Lae'zel and Gale, while Wyll set off in the opposite direction with Shadowheart and Karlach.

Astarion took it upon himself to guide you, considering his familiarity with the surrounds.

"Oh, there's much less variety than what's on offer in the Upper City, darling, but there are a few good spots that not many people know about. There are merchants that import fine fabrics, and not everyone is aware of this, but they also employ skilled tailors who will make you a custom fit on request."

Gale looked impressed.

"You certainly know a lot about this, Astarion."

His compliment was waved off airily.

"Of course. I do know a thing or two about fashion."

You examined Astarion carefully as he said the words. There was something more here, some bitter undercurrent to the way he spoke. You knew him well enough by now to recognise when he was hiding an emotion dredged up by unpleasant memories.

You decided not to question him on it immediately. There was a time and place for everything.

Lae'zel was still looking decidedly unenthusiastic. As you meandered through the streets, she clicked her tongue and suddenly entered a shop on the left.

You paused before shrugging and entering behind her. It was a clothing store after all, one of the kind that sold rougher cuts for hard travel and the road.

Wandering amongst the wares on display in wicker baskets, you recognised a lot of familiar items, the colours perfect for camouflage, the homespun fabrics, the sturdy boots. Astarion turned his nose up at the selection, but this didn't deter Lae'zel.

She walked through the store in a straight line, picking up a shirt, trousers, underwear and boots and returned to you, a satisfied expression on her face.

"See? Shopping doesn't have to be an affair for the day. I've already picked out what I need. Now you do the same and we can go and find something far more worthy to spend our money on."

You shot a pleading glance at Gale and Astarion, both of whom rose admirably to the occasion.

Astarion came forward slowly, eyeing the clothes in Lae'zel's hand with a critical eye.

"Hmm. Hmm. I suppose ... no. Not at all. Not really. How ... disappointing."

"What do you mean?" she snapped, "What's disappointing?"

He bit his lip, shaking his head.

"It's just ... during all of our travels together, I actually have come to admire the kind of warrior you are, Lae'zel. You're certainly the fiercest I've known, and that's saying something. So ... and it pains me to say this, but ... this choice just isn't ... you."

Gale nodded in agreement, raising one finger as he explained himself.

"To put it in plain terms, a powerful githyanki like yourself should be dressed in colours and fabrics that exude ... intimidation. Power. Flair. These ... dusty road clothes don't quite cut it."

You glanced over at Lae'zel whose brow was now furrowed deeply, considering the items she'd chosen. She set them down and folded her arms.

"And I suppose you lot know what would suit a warrior like me?"

In spite of her challenging tone, you let out a breath of relief. This was Lae'zel's manner of giving in, somewhat, her way of showing her trust in the knowledge and abilities of her companions.

Astarion perked up and grinned.

"Oh trust me on this, Lae'zel. By the end of today, you'll be looking truly fearsome."

"Then lead on."

Across town, Wyll was facing a few challenges of his own. Shadowheart turned out to be exceptionally picky about what she spent her money on, and the higher the quality, the more her judgment of all of its minute flaws came to the fore.

Karlach, on the other hand, was so easily distracted by things other than clothing that they'd had to stay her hand away from her purse on more than one occasion when she saw a trinket or gadget that caught her eye.

Mind racing, Wyll finally hit upon a solution to the issue at hand, deciding to visit a store he knew of that catered to both their needs.

There was a certain company he knew that stocked both exclusive items for theatre actors, jewellry, props and hand-carved items of all kinds. He led them to the front door of the establishment and shot the two ladies a smile.

"So, this is a place I've known about for a while. Came here with my father a few times when we had costume parties and he wanted me to wear something unique."

When they entered, Karlach looked around in delight.

"Oh, Wyll! This is perfect! Look at all of these hats and horn ornaments! I can't believe how hard it is to find anything horn-related in this place."

Shadowheart, meanwhile, had hurried over to a selection of dark plum, cobalt and emerald-dyed dresses, eyeing them with ill-concealed longing. Wyll raised an eyebrow.

All Shadowheart's clothing choices thus far had been singularly streamlined and fitted to her form for ease in battle. He hadn't put her down for someone who preferred frills and flounces.

Clearing his throat, he approached and gestured to the dresses.

"Care to try them on? I'll ask the proprietor to - "

She backed off, hands raised almost defensively.

"Oh, no, not at all. I was just ... looking."

Wyll pulled one of the dresses, a deep violet silk, from the rack and held it up against her.

"Well now. That colour looks simply splendid on you, Shadowheart. We can't have you leaving here without trying it out."

Karlach bounded over, a red leather pointed hat sitting perfectly over her horns.

"Oooh, smashing! You've got to take that!"

Shadowheart's mouth opened and closed a few times as she uttered some faint protests, but was soon convinced to choose some dresses and make her way to the changing screens.

Wyll gestured to Karlach's outfit.

"And what'll it be for you, milady?"

She giggled and cleared her throat, adopting a coquettish pose.

"Well, aren't you a right charmer? What do you recommend for my strapping frame, good saer?"

Wyll held up his hands excitedly.

"So, when I was young, there was this stage actor, Lady Zenith, who took the city by storm. She played a pirate queen and I saw some of her appearances. Just fantastic. A lot of costume stores still sell clothes inspired by some of her looks, and I'm sure this place does too. I think they'll suit you perfectly."

Karlach's eyes were now gleaming in anticipation.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Show me the goods, man!"

This time, you'd taken Astarion's reccomendation into account and followed him to a different store, closer to the Upper City, that specialised in outfits for adventurers and mercenaries who were looking to make an impression at events and parties.

Lae'zel now seemed far more invested, and you also grew excited as you saw the array of clothing that shouted of wealth earned the rough and violent way.

Embroidered jerkins, leather braces and belts, embossed hats and smart trousers adorned the shelves, along with dress swords and scabbards, ruffled blouses, trimmed boots and fur cloaks.

You tugged Lae'zel through the store, and you could practically see the appeal of this activity open up in golden avenues before her eyes as you held up dashing outfits in blood red, dark green and black against her.

You handed her a few items to try on before finding a jewel-toned blouse, comfortable padded trousers and boots for yourself. Finally detaching yourself from the siren's call of colours and fabrics, you noticed that Gale was no longer in the store.

"Where'd he go?"

Astarion gestured vaguely somewhere in the region of the shop across the street.

"Said he saw something he liked over there."

Crimson eyes were flicking perceptively over your clothing choices. Hesitantly, you held them up for his inspection.

"Do they look nice?"

"They look wonderful, darling. Hold on."

He reached over your shoulder, thoroughly distracting you with the way his breath fanned across your collarbones and plucked something from a shelf above your head. He held it against the blouse you had chosen and you spied a delicate broach in gold filigree, a starling with a garnet eye.

"Oh, that's beautiful!" you breathed.

You made to take it from him, but he flipped the piece quickly out of your reach.

"No, sweetheart. This is my gift to you. I've been ... saving up a little too."

Something about those words tightened your throat, the bruised sweetness of a summer fruit, painful as it was poignant.

When you'd first met him, it had been obvious that Astarion had very little to his name. His clothes, in spite of their former grandeur, had been darned and repaired many times over, their gold threadwork faded. His belongings were all mismatched remnants of a time of wealth.

He had scrounged every ounce of gold he'd found in the field, and in battle, hoarding it with almost obsessive desire, the kind that comes from knowing the state of being truly destitute.

And to think that this same man was now offering up his gold to buy you something as frivolous as a piece of jewelry. You knew better than to turn him down. You'd wear his gift, and treasure it well.

You couldn't help notice, however, that Astarion had not picked out any outfits for himself.

"Arent you going to get anything?"

His gaze slid away from yours, traveling around the store as he spoke.

"Oh, I'm holding out for now. I want to find something I really like before committing. You know how it is."

Expression growing hard, you tugged at his sleeve, gaining his attention.

"Listen here, handsome. I didn't get my hands on those diamonds to dress you up in drow armour all over again."

His eyes widened slightly at your tone, fangs sliding into view as he smiled.

"Oh my. Are you annoyed with me, dearest?"

"No, but I will be if you don't pick something. And I don't care if you find something better elsewhere. I'll buy that for you too. And I'll buy anything else that takes your fancy."

"Gods below, it's so enticing when you shower me with adoration like this - "

"Astarion."

He uttered a small laugh, a genuine sound that caused an alarming flutter of uncontrollable tenderness in your chest.

"Well, if you insist. But you've got to help me pick them out. I can't see my own reflection after all."

You cocked your head.

"Is that why you didn't want to choose anything?"

He traced a finger over the laquered wood of the shelving before answering.

"Not quite. You see, when we served under Cazador, he made us dress according to ... his specifications. We could wear nice things, but they were all chosen by him. Owned by him. We had to return them immediately after use. It's ... not easy for me to accept such gifts."

"Oh ... I didn't realise. I'm - "

"Don't apologise."

His tone was sharp, only softened by the warmth of his glance.

"I know you. I know why you're gifting me things. It's the same way I gift you this broach. We do it ... as equals. Partners. Lovers. Nothing more, or less. We do it because we want to."

Wordlessly, you took his hand, bringing his fingers to your lips and holding them there. Astarion tugged your hand towards him, placing a soft reciprocal kiss on your own knuckles.

"Now, are you going to help me choose or not?"

He released you and sauntered away, shooting you his trademark smirk over one shoulder.

"And don't even think about sneaking a look behind the screens while I get changed."

"Wouldn't dream of it. And you're going to lace yourself into those fancy shirts, I suppose?"

"Never fear, darling. I'll be crying out for you just the way you like."

"Shadowheart? Are you all right in there?"

"What? Oh, I'm ... fine."

Karlach and Wyll exchanged glances. Adjusting the red leather hat over her horns (which she seemed rather loathe to part with) Karlach cleared her throat.

"Come on. We want to see you in the dress."

"It's all right. I've tried them all on. I think I ... "

"Shadowheart, I hate to insist, but we really want to see you in those dresses. We can't leave here with nothing."

Wyll's polite, but firm tone seemed to do the trick. The screen parted slightly before Shadowheart took a large stride out, almost tripping over her skirts.

She looked like a goddess descended from a more radiant plane than earth, that was for sure. The gown she wore composed a supple bodice, flowing skirts, fan-like sleeves and a brocade collar, turquoise shot through with pale green embroidery.

Karlach gasped and clapped, while Wyll spread his hands effusively.

"Stunning!"

"Oh hells! Why on earth were you hiding back there?"

Shadowheart's posture had been so stiff, it looked like she was practicing military drills, but under their positive response, she relaxed somewhat.

"Um. To tell you the truth ... I've always ... been partial to gowns like these, but I think ... I'd been told that they didn't belong on me. On someone like me, I think."

Wyll disappeared briefly behind the screens and re-emerged with the other gowns in hand.

"Well, I think these are well spotted. They'll all look marvelous."

Shadowheart eyed him skeptically.

"That's all well and good, but what about you, Wyll? I haven't seen you try anything on yourself."

Karlach nodded eagerly.

"Oh, go on. You're a fancy man, I reckon. Could do with some ruffles and tight pants."

Wyll snorted.

"I think you've got me mistaken for Astarion."

"Your arse is better."

"Karlach ... never let him hear you say that. And I mean never."

"Lae'zel, I never expected you to be so insightful regarding colour combinations."

"I'm good at most things. This should come as no surprise."

Astarion snapped his fingers.

"Ah, there she is. The Lae'zel we know and love."

Tucking away your own wrapped purchases into your rucksack, you frowned as you glanced out the door.

"We need to find Gale. Where on earth has he wandered off to?"

You followed Lae'zel and Astarion out into the street, examining the shopfronts for any sign of the stray wizard. A little further down the street, Lae'zel stopped so abruptly that you walked nose-first into the hilt of her sword.

"Ouch! What are you - "

"Be silent," she hissed.

Instantly, you were on the alert, hand snaking toward your weapon.

"What is it? Vlaakith's troops?"

"No. Worse."

Astarion drifted closer to your side, eyes scanning the street like a bird of prey.

"Don't keep us in suspense."

"It's Gale. Wearing some kind of ... monstrosity."

Hissing out a sharp breath, you shot her a glare.

"Why on earth would you make me panic like - "

"Shut up and look. It's ... truly horrifying."

Astarion had apparently forgotten his nerves in a second and gleefully sprang up on a low wall behind Lae'zel to get a better look across the crowded street, almost hanging piggyback off her.

"What is it? What could our dearest Gale be up to? Could it be - "

Gale chose that moment to exit the shop he had made his purchase at, a singularly self-satisfied expression on his face. As for what he was wearing ...

You hurriedly schooled your face into warm surprise when he saw you and waved, approaching eagerly.

"Oh, you'll never guess what I found. This used to be all the rage at Waterdeep when I was a lad, especially amongst the scholars."

Astarion deflated, arms draping limply across Lae'zel's shoulders.

"Gods below, don't get my hopes up like that. I thought he was cross-dressing for a minute."

It was a testament to how transfixed the githyanki was by Gale's outfit that she didn't attempt to dislodge Astarion from his perch.

"Gale. What is ... that you have on?"

The item in question resembled a robe, one much shorter that ended just below the waist. It was made from some kind of fluffy material, the colours pleasant enough, but strange to look at. Buttons came all the way up the front and it was clearly made for cooler weather.

Gale gestured to the garment proudly.

"Oh, this is a cardigan. Never see one before, I take it?"

"It's horrid," she blurted out, ignoring the way your eyes bulged and the fact that Astarion had now clapped a hand over his mouth.

Gale, fortunately, had developed something of a thick skin where Lae'zel was concerned. He waved her disgusted look away.

"Oh, come on. Give it a chance. If a whole city once thought it looked good then - "

"That city deserves to be razed to the ground."

He grimaced and turned to you.

"And your verdict?"

You shook your head hurriedly.

"Oh, I don't share her opinion. It looks comfortable and simple. Perfect for a ... wizard."

Astarion cleared his throat and you groaned internally.

"Oh, absolutely, darling. I just ... hope he never wore that around Mystra, because quite frankly, that would explain so much - "

Whirling on your heel you made a cutting motion with your hand. He was presenting an unusually united front with Lae'zel in their hatred of the cardigan.

"What is wrong with you both? He looks ... normal."

Gale sighed and folded his arms. He was getting that stubborn look on his face, the one that probably made the Weave quiver and entertain thoughts along the line of "Here we go again."

"Well, my apologies for offending your senses, but I will be wearing this every day from now on, considering how cold the weather's getting."

Lae'zel grunted as if struck with an arrow.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would."

"I'll destroy it."

"You could try."

Raising your hands, you stepped between them.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, you lot. Gale, you're perfectly entitled to wear whatever you want - "

"I would certainly think so!"

"And Lae'zel, whatever your reservations, let's try to be civil, yes?"

She folded her arms and looked to be deeply in thought for a minute. Head snapping up, she approached Gale who regarded her warily.

"Wizard. I can't change your mind regarding this ... regrettable choice, but would you humour me on one thing?"

"And what's that?"

"Undo the buttons. It looks ... odd. Like a human in a sausage casing."

"She's right, Gale," chimed in Astarion, "The Weave works so much better when you show it some chest hair."

Gale raised an eyebrow.

"Probably why it never works for you then."

"Ooh, I love it when you get nasty."

The Elfsong Tavern was packed to the brim, the heat of many bodies, the sweet thrum of a lyre and the chatter of a myriad voices spilling into the dark streets. Your party had trekked their way upstairs to the refuge of your private quarters, leaving the door open in a mild concession to socialising.

The occasional patron would sway up the stairs and drink a toast to your good company.

To round off a day well-spent on treating yourselves, you'd ordered up some of the taverns finest ales, wines and dishes, laid out on a long table in the central area. Your companions took some time to bathe and dress themselves in their new finery before meandering over to the small feast.

Wyll looked sleek and elegant in a mahogany and gold coat, dark trousers and embroidered shoes. He lounged on the sofa beside Gale, who stubbornly persisted on donning his cardigan over a comfortable pair of woollen pants.

Studiously avoiding Gale, Lae'zel stood at the head of the table, a roast leg of lamb in one hand, her resplendent green doublet slashed through with blood red, providing an intimidating, if reassuring familiarity.

Karlach was currently downstairs, ordering more drinks from the bar, so you made your way over to Shadowheart and Astarion who were standing together by the hearth. You caught the tail end of their conversation.

"Purple looks a bit ripe on you, darling. Sort of like a plum that's been left in the dark for too long."

"Hmm. I suppose you think that white looks dashing on you. All it does it highlight your pallor."

"I am a vampire. I have to cultivate a certain otherworldly appeal. You on the other hand ... were you going for pauper princess banished from the kingdom?"

"More like assassin princess. A romantic image, you know? I have to wonder at those red highlights on your coat, though. What was the intention there? That you'd dribbled your dinner all over yourself?"

Attempting to hide the way your mouth twitched, you gestured to their clothes.

"I think you both look lovely."

"Oh, my sweet, how kind of you to say that about Shadowheart."

"Indeed. Astarion seems to think he has monopoly over good looks. It's nice to hear him corrected on that front."

Even as she spoke, she reached across and impatiently brushed away a thread from his coat.

"Gods, that was irritating. Now that's better."

Astarion regarded her sourly before clicking his tongue.

"Hold on. Your eyeliner is slightly smudged."

You took a sip of your wine, grinning to yourself as he fussed a little, correcting the stray mark beside her eye.

"There." He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Can't quite compete with me, but I suppose pale hair does look good on you."

"Likewise," she sniffed, before shooting you a smile and wandering off to find Karlach.

You finally let out the small laugh you'd been holding prisoner.

"Good to see you two getting along."

He huffed and made a show of adjusting his cuffs.

"I don't know what you're talking about, my sweet. What's that, in your goblet? A quality vintage, I hope?"

You allowed him to pilfer it out of your hand, eyes traveling across to where Lae'zel had now joined Wyll and Gale, stiffly complimenting them on their clothes.

"I think we needed this. A chance to unwind a little. Spoil ourselves."

Astarion drifted closer, fingers grazing the broach you now wore at your collar in place of honour.

"Indeed. You always seem to know ... exactly what we require. Even when we don't know it ourselves."

You turned and met his gaze, noting how the lightness of his tone betrayed the depth of feeling that was reflected there, just beneath the surface.

Regarding him with a tender smile, you extended a hand as the bard downstairs struck up a merry tune.

"Shall we dance?"

He sank into a gallant bow, fangs glinting in the dim light, and took up your offer, arm curling intimately around your waist as he pulled you close.

"Let's show them how it's done."

As you swept across the floor, swaying and dipping with Astarion's light guidance, you saw Wyll leap up and clap his hands, immediately inviting Lae'zel to dance with him.

She scowled and folded her arms, but Gale was always one step ahead.

"Oh, go on, Lae'zel. Weren't you the one who told us you could do just about anything?"

He stood and approached her.

"Of course, you could always dance with me instead. Get a firsthand feel of how soft and fleecy this cardigan is - "

She took a step back, an impressive feat on Gale's part.

"Fine! I'll partake of a ... turn with Wyll. Just this once."

Your dance was brought to an abrupt end when Karlach set the drinks down at the table with a resounding thump and cackled gleefully, wrapping her arms around you, hoisting until you and Astarion were both airborne on either side of her.

"Oh, you two precious things! Thanks for the treat, soldier. Just look at my hat!"

Astarion eyed the red leather dubiously.

"Looks like something right out of a sex dungeon."

"Even better!"

Breathless with laughter as Karlach whirled you around, singing loudly, you tipped the brim of her hat down and placed a kiss on Astarion's cheek, watching the softness build in his eyes, the burnished beauty of the firelight on his gleaming hair.

Seeing them all like this, these companions who'd wormed their way into your heart faster than any mindflayer tadpole, was well worth the battles that had brought you to this point.

You'd see this through, banishing the shadows from their lives one by one until light and merriment pervaded every living moment together.

And damn it all if you didn't look fabulous doing so.