#i like drawing wyll with different hair styles

[aureoboros]

hii I drew wyll again

[baldursgrave69]

A Magnificent Bastard

Summary: Agnes (the Dark Urge) draws Astarion, but he doesn't actually know what he looks like.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!durge (named)

Word count: 1K

Tags: fluff

While writing this I was listening to: High by Stephen Sanchez

Find me on Ao3 here

Agnes sat near the campfire, pen and paper in hand. Arron, the druid merchant in the grove, had sold her a journal and some ink that day. The half elf had next to no memories before the nautiloid, but she had an itch to draw. She wanted to know if she was any good. Now she needed to decide what to draw. Agnes surveyed camp, eyes landing on Karlach who was rough-housing with Scratch. She doodled them to warm up, surprised that it actually came out decently. She looked around camp, trying to find someone else to sketch. Gale was peeling potatoes near his tent, Laezel sharpened her sword on her grinding stone, and Shadowheart knelt by her tent in prayer. Agnes trailed her eyes over to Astarion, who was standing at his tent, rifling through a book. She observed him, his white curls sitting perfectly as always. With the light of the fire glinting off of his pale skin, she couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. His face was perfectly chiseled. He had subtle smile lines and forehead wrinkles, his eyes a beautiful deep red. Agnes turned her body slightly to face him without being too obvious, and began to sketch.

It felt almost as though her hand was moving independently from her body as she sketched his face. She paid extra detail in capturing every curve and angle of his jaw and nose, taking her time to draw his curls just right. Agnes became lost in her art as she continued to sketch the vampire spawn, drawing him from different angles, trying out different styles. She didn’t notice Karlach and Wyll silently watching her, enraptured in her art. Gale and Shadowheart abandoned their activities as well, coming over to watch Agnes draw their pale companion. The hairs on the back of the half elf’s neck stood on end, she could feel eyes on her. Agnes spun around to see her companions peering over her shoulder at her art. She instinctively covered the drawing, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t be embarrassed, soldier, you’re a pro!” Karlach cheered, clapping her hands together. Wyll and Gale nodded in agreement. Agnes blushed, holding the journal to her chest. “Thanks,” she mumbled, looking over towards Astarion who had set his book down to see why everyone had gathered around the other rogue. She averted her gaze as he walked over toward her. “What’s this then?” he asked, looking at everyone. Agnes’ other companions swiftly departed the campfire, leaving her alone with the vampire. “What was that all about?” he asked, sitting down next to her at the fire. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she lied, tucking the journal to the side. Astarion zeroed in on the journal in her hands. He smiled, holding out his hand expectantly. Agnes scoffed, turning away from him. Astarion quickly weaseled the journal out of her hand, turning it to the first page, on which he found the doodles of Scratch and Karlach. He chuckled, “Cute,” flipping the page.

On the second page Astarion saw a sketch of a man that he did not recognize. The man was quite attractive, he had full, gorgeous curls that sat perfectly atop his head and piercing eyes. She had drawn him from many angles, taking extra care to detail the smile lines on his face. “Aw, does someone have a crush?” Astarion tuts, shooting a sly smile at Agnes. Agnes' face turned red as she tried to snatch the journal away from him. “Ah ah, I’m not done,” he scolded, swiftly rising to his feet to keep the journal away from Agnes. “When would you have had time to meet someone like this? Surely, I would remember him,” Astarion asked, genuinely curious. Agnes had no recollection of her past, so it probably wasn’t an ex-lover, and he would’ve remembered if they met someone like this on their journey. As Agnes watched Astarion studying the drawings, realizing that Astarion didn’t know what he looked like. He didn’t realize that the drawing was one of him. She smiled to herself, looking over at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” she smirked, leaning back. Astarion continued to look over the sketch, trying to place the man in the drawings.

She must really like this person, he thought, inspecting the care and detail that went into the drawing. He hated that it made him a little jealous. He enjoyed their flirtatious banter, even if it was just a means to an end. He needed to keep on her good side by any means possible, they had traveled together for long enough for him to know she was not one to be messed with. Behind him, Astarion could hear Gale and Wyll snickering as they looked in his direction. Astarion turned to look at them, narrowing his gaze. Turning back towards Agnes he noticed that she had her head buried in her hands in embarrassment. Astarion looked at the drawing once more, analyzing every detail. He noticed that the man had two dots drawn on his neck. Bite marks. His eyes widened as he continued to look at the sketch, beginning to recognize his own features. She had drawn him. Astarion slowly sat down on a log next to the fire, a death grip on the journal. He had not seen himself in 200 years. He had forgotten what he looked like.

Agnes watched the realization flood Astarion’s face, as he finally concluded that the sketch was of him. Embarrassment filled Agnes, as she buried her head in her hands again. After a moment, she looked up to see Astarion sitting with the journal gripped in his hands. He was studying every inch of the paper, a small smile crossing his face. She watched him for a moment, as he looked at himself. “I really am a magnificent bastard, aren’t I,” he finally said, looking up at Agnes. She let out a chuckle, nodding in agreement. “You can have it,” she smiled. Astarion looked up at her, his eyes rounder than normal. “Thank you,” he said quietly, running his fingers along the page.