Chapter Text
Act III
The journey to Rivington was a long, uneventful one, but Astarion didn’t find himself minding. Calenthia was practically skipping ahead of him, joyously taking in the effects of the curse being lifted, and smiling at Scratch and the owlbear cub frolicking alongside their party. It was enough to keep Astarion distracted, because gods she was so beautiful. Radiant in fact, though clearly missing a few brain cells because she had chosen to be his.
Karlach was humming next to him, and the humming somehow sounded slightly condescending so Astarion took his eyes off of Calenthia long enough to look at her. Karlach was watching him with an easy smirk, her expression slightly vindicated. “Seeing you look at her like that has me wondering if I should start planning a wedding.” She teased, barely holding back a laugh.
“Gods, don’t be ridiculous.” Astarion scoffed. “Do I seem like the marrying type to you?”
Karlach shrugged, her smirk not budging. “She would look lovely in a wedding dress.” She added dreamily.
“Of course she would. She looks incredible in everything-“ Astarion cut himself off when Karlach laughed good naturedly, realizing he had walked right into her trap. He frowned at her and she just winked at him, speeding up to put distance between them, whistling to herself with amusem*nt. Astarion just rolled his eyes at her, knowing she was only teasing him, and wondering when they would finally be able to stop walking.
Calenthia eventually managed to find the remains of what was once some sort of grand building atop a cliff. It had clearly been abandoned long ago, and with daylight quickly fading, it was a safe place to make camp for the night just for the view alone. The cliffside was just high enough so that it overlooked Rivington. Beyond Rivington, Wyrm’s Crossing could be seen, and just beyond that in the distance… the city of Baldur’s Gate was already beginning to light up, the night life kicking in at full swing before most of the city even fully turned in for the night.
The view was spectacular, but the sight of the city made Astarion’s skin crawl. Once, not even that long ago, this would have been the time of evening when he and his brothers and sisters would have been freed from their kennels or rooms in preparation of bringing prey back to Cazador. Everyone was enjoying the view, excited to return to their city, or at least hopeful to find answers there, but Astarion’s mood was instantly soured, knowing that while his spawn were forced out on the streets for the night, Cazador was preparing for the Rite of Profane Ascension.
Returning to Baldur’s Gate meant exactly one thing and one thing only to Astarion: either he would be dying by Cazador’s hands, or Cazador would finally, finally be dying by his. He knew the others had their own plans, their own revenge plots and answer seeking, and then on top of all of that, they must deal with Elder Brain. But he didn’t care about any of that. All that mattered was Cazador, and the rest could wait as far as he was concerned. Besides, if he could ascend, if he could become the most powerful vampire to ever exist, he could help the others with their silly little plans anyway. If he felt like it was even worth his time. He knew they all had their reasons for returning to the city outside of the brain, but it was Calenthia that knew the details.
Calenthia. The city was inching closer, and Astarion still didn't think he was any closer to convincing her how much they would benefit from him taking Cazador’s place in the ritual. He would need to work on that more seriously, but she was busy as they set up camp. Feeding Scratch and the cub, helping Shadowheart build the fire, taste testing Gale’s latest concoction for dinner, pointing out a spot that Lae’zel had missed while sharpening her sword, even talking to Minthara, who had barely spoken to anyone of them since joining them at Moonrise… all the menial little tasks she assigned herself every night to show that she cared about each and every member of their little camp, doing her rounds so that no one felt left out, so that everyone felt loved. Because of course she loved them all. She was only in love with him, but of course she loved every member of their party. She was too full of love not to.
When Calenthia did her rounds at camp, she always saved him for last. Originally it had been because of their bickering, later turned to shyness and putting off their not so subtle flirting… but the reasoning had turned into her saving him for last because he was her lover, because they turned in for the night together, whispering sweet nothings to each other away from prying ears before they finally went to bed.
Astarion’s life had changed so very much in such a short amount of time.
What was surprising was that Calenthia didn’t come to him. He kept a careful eye on her, hopping from companion to companion to check in on them. He thought perhaps she was just waiting until dinner to seek him out, and though she sat down next to him around the campfire, she disappeared again shortly after, forcing Astarion to seek her out because it felt like… she was avoiding him. He found her once he climbed a ladder placed against one of the only walls still standing of the ruins. It allowed for an even better view of the awaiting lands, and since dark had officially fallen, Baldur’s Gate was lit up more brightly than the stars in the night sky.
She knew it was him, before he even spoke, and turned to smile at him over her shoulder as he approached. “It’s quite a view, isn’t it?” She asked.
“Yes. Yes it is.” He purred, not taking his eyes off of her, not talking of the city. She had already changed to her sleep clothes, and while not nearly as impressive and sensual as the outfit she had once stolen from Minthara in the goblin camp, it always did something to him to see her in that state of undress, no layers of leather armor covering her beauty, just a sense of comfort and softness that came with nightfall. Even in the minimal lighting of the moon overhead, he saw her cheeks flush as she smiled at him, and it intrigued him. She was feeling shy for some reason, and he was dying to know why. She barely had any reason, he had toned down his flirting quite a bit after their conversation about Araj, for his sake more than her own. He wasn’t sure he would be able to stop until he bedded her if he laid it on too thick, because gods did he want her. He had never stopped, he just wanted it to feel right when he had her again.
“Have you been avoiding me tonight?” He asked her, his tone gentle and teasing.
Calenthia laughed. “No, not quite. I think I’m just… processing. Being this close to Baldur’s Gate again. It almost doesn’t feel real.” She gave him a sad smile. “I can only imagine how it must feel for you.” Ah, so she was giving him space, knowing he was thinking of Cazador, while simultaneously needing some of her own.
Astarion sighed. “The gate is close. As is Cazador.” Even the mention of his name created a feeling of overwhelming disgust and anger. “Cazador and his rite of Profane Ascension.” Astarion could already see it, the spectacle Cazador would make of the whole ordeal. “An imperious soirée, attended by devils and spawn alike… a grand ceremony to honor one exalted, vampiric master-“ he couldn’t stop himself from mocking Cazador’s nasally voice. “-and elevate him to an unfathomable station. To place him in a position of such esteem the world will yearn to kneel and offer their necks.” The bitterness was all too apparent in his voice, and while Calenthia indulged his mocking little speech, her eyebrows were furrowed seriously.
She paused for a moment, thinking, and swallowed slowly before speaking. “It sounds like you envy him.”
“Of course I envy him. Why wouldn’t I? The problem with what Cazador has done is that he did it to me. If the time comes and I can stay one step ahead of him, I’ll take his place before his blood hits the floor.” He was letting anger get the better of him. He was supposed to be convincing her, and he was clearly going about it in the wrong way, because she was frowning at him and shaking her head.
“So you’d kill to take that power? What about the others tied to the ritual?”
Astarion laughed. “What’s a handful of the wretch’s servants? If they’re anything like me when I was enslaved, they’re all but begging for death anyway. After two hundred years of sh*t, pure sh*t, I think I deserve something better.”
Calenthia was shifting her weight on her feet uneasily, her tail twitching nervously. “You do. You deserve so much more. But I- All that matters to me is that you’re safe. I just- I want you to be safe.”
Some of Astarion’s composure crumbled as he reminded himself that she truly cared, and even her ignorant viewing of the rite was out of love. “I know you do.” He replied softly. It gave him a window, an opportunity to explain to her that it could benefit her as well. “It matters to me, as well. I want to be able to protect you, too.”
Calenthia’s shoulders suddenly tensed, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Let’s not pretend I play any role in you wanting to ascend.” Her tone was a little harsh, and it was unsettling. They had bickered plenty, but she had never used that tone with him. Curious.
“All I’m saying is: let’s be clever about this.” He said, trying to defuse the situation. “If the opportunity arises for me to become a more magnificent bastard than I already am, why turn it down? Let’s find out more about the ritual before we waltz through Cazador’s front door. If we track down my old comrades- the other spawn- we may discover more… and be positioned for yours truly to ascend.”
At the mention of his ‘siblings’, Calenthia relaxed a little, though Astarion wasn’t sure why. “As long as you’re sure you’ll be alright seeing them again, love.” She finally said, gently placing her hand on his arm affectionately.
Astarion chuckled. “You’re too adorable. I’ll be fine. I’m sure they’ll bring back memories of so many pathetic years, but I’m much stronger now. If we don’t find my brethren, they’ll find us, likely with fangs bared. We should find them first, and then we can make their pretty tongues talk. Unless Cazador has changed their orders, they’ll be in the dens of one of the upcoming towns, seeking prey.” He reached up, taking her face in his hands. Her eyes were wide with worry, and he smoothed his thumbs over the worried creases on her forehead before leaning forward to kiss it. “My love…” he started softly, quietly. “You know how deeply I care for you. I want to be able to give you everything, put you in a position where you ask for nothing. If I ascend-“
Calenthia was suddenly jerking her face out of his hands, and shoving away from him. “Astarion- just stop. Stop lying to me.”
Astarion blinked at her, affronted. “I’m not lying. I do care about you.” He frowned at her. “And if you’ll recall correctly, that wasn’t something that was easy for me to admit. I may not be the Prince Charming you’re looking for, but you already knew that, getting into this. Just because I don’t woo you and court you like some lovestruck farmboy, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“How am I supposed to believe that?” Calenthia spat.
“Why would I be lying-“
“Because this-“ Calenthia gestured back and forth between them angrily. “-all of this was founded on a lie. You said so yourself, that for the longest time, you were using me. I was just another person you planned to seduce and manipulate with no second thought of my feelings. I- I didn’t think I was anything special. Especially not in the beginning, but I thought that at least somewhere along the way things would have changed-”
“They did.” Astarion growled, defending himself. “I told you I didn’t plan to genuinely care for you, but I do now.”
“How can I believe that?” Calenthia's voice cracked, and Astarion could see the tears welling in her eyes in the moonlight. “You were dishonest with me for so long, how can I believe what you’re saying now about ascending and caring about me is suddenly true?”
Astarion bit his tongue. He really wanted to say something harsh and sarcastic about how her enslavement had been easier, that she had someone that showed her kindness and helped her escape the clutches of her abusers, and that if she didn’t believe him, they could simply go their own ways. But he took a moment to breathe, to calm himself. She was shaking, and fighting so hard not to cry, blinking too much and swallowing too often. She was scared. She was afraid that he was lying to her, that he was still using her, and possibly even afraid that if he did ascend, there would no longer be a place for her in his new found role as vampiric master. While choosing to ascend would rightfully benefit Astarion the most, he still considered her. He still wanted her at his side, he still cared about her. But it was going to take more than just a single conversation to get her on the same page, and she was far too upset to make any progress in that.
“Calenthia…” he started slowly, feeling his anger ebb away slowly, only because he was forcing it to. He reached out for her hand, surprised when she didn’t jerk it away. He brought to his lips, planting a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I know you have no reason to trust me after I’ve admitted to using you, but the reason I admitted it to you is because you deserved to know. Not to make you second guess my feelings for you.”
Calenthia aggressively swiped at one of her eyes to prevent a tear from falling. “I don’t- I don’t want to second guess- I just-“ she inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself, and Astarion took the opportunity to use her hand to pull her closer. She came with no resistance, wrapping her arms around him, and he did the same, running a hand through her unbraided hair, tucking some of it behind one of her horns.
“It’s alright, darling.” He mumbled against the top of her head. “I’ve been dishonest about a great deal in my life, but the way I feel about you isn’t one of those things.” Discussion about ascension would have to wait for another time, when she was feeling more secure. He had his own insecurities in thinking that she would leave when he admitted he wanted to stop having sex, he couldn’t judge her for her for her own.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were bloodshot, but there were no longer tears threatening to topple over, and he kissed her gently, relieved when she kissed him back. “This whole- being honest with each other about our feelings is more difficult than I thought.” She muttered.
Astarion chuckled and smirked at her. “I think we’re doing surprisingly well.” Seeing as he couldn’t remember a single honest day before her, they were doing incredibly well.
“It’s a work in progress.” She sighed. “Which means I should probably admit… I wasn’t entirely honest with you earlier.”
A petty part of Astarion’s brain wanted to comment on hypocrisy, but he just allowed her to continue. “Oh?”
“I… I have been avoiding you tonight.” Before Astarion could reply, she kept going, seeing he was about to interrupt with something witty. “I was just, well, nervous, I suppose. I have a surprise for you, and I’ve been debating on just forgetting about the whole thing all night.”
“So, does this mean I will be on the receiving end of this surprise tonight?”
Calenthia bit her lip but nodded, letting go of him only to grab his hand and intertwine their fingers, pulling him towards the ladder. Astarion allowed himself to be dragged, only letting go of her hand so she could descend the ladder. When he climbed down himself, she stalled for a moment before taking his hand again, leading him to her tent. Gods, Astarion wondered why they even bothered setting up separate tents anymore. She let go of his hand again to crawl inside her tent, sitting comfortably with her legs crossed, taking a deep breath.
“You can’t laugh.” She said immediately as soon as he made himself comfortable, laying out across her bed roll curiously.
“No promises, darling. I don’t even know what I’ve agreed to.”
Calenthia rolled her eyes but grabbed her lute. “I… I finished the song. The one you read in my notebook. I… I wanted you to hear it.”
Oh. Oh. Was he finally going to get to hear her sing? “I’m all pointy ears, my love.”
She avoided his eyes, focusing on her lute, even though he knew she was talented enough to get the chords correct without looking. He didn’t understand her shyness when she had performed in front of countless others, but he laid there quietly, allowing her to play. The song somehow felt comforting, all too familiar after hearing her work on it for so long. Her cheeks visibly reddened, and she inhaled deeply before singing.
“I feel your breath upon my neck, a soft caress as cold as death…”
Gods, her voice was absolutely angelic. Astarion was completely floored. He had heard the chords time and time again, had been there when some of it was being written, but to actually hear her perform the song was a world of its own, causing goosebumps to spread across his skin like wildfire. He couldn’t wrap his head around why she would ever want to hide it from anyone. He would never again have to question why the bardic outfit he had first met her in looked so expensive, or why she performed at such lavish parties for nobles. Her voice suited her perfectly, delicate and feminine, but strong and beautiful, laced with a sultry undertone that had him immediately smiling because it was something she was sharing with him.
The song was over all too soon, and her eyes nervously darted to him as she set her lute in her lap, waiting for him to say something, but she was a gods damned vision, and he was honestly too speechless to say anything at first.
“Gods, you’re perfect.” He mumbled, a little embarrassed by how his voice sounded almost dreamy. “You’ve been hiding that voice from everyone this entire time? Calenthia, you’re...I don’t think a single language has the appropriate word to describe it.”
“You have to say that.” She mumbled embarrassedly, looking away from him again.
Astarion snorted. “Don’t look to me to feed your hubris. I’m usually the one asking that of other people.” He reached out and placed a hand on her knee so that she would look at him again. He was suddenly incredibly glad that Cazador had never heard of her, knowing he would have demanded her to perform at one of his parties. “I can’t believe all of Baldur’s Gate doesn’t have your name on their tongue. They want to wax poetic about Volo when they could have Calenthia Valen performing at their parties-“
“Ew.” Calenthia scrunched up her nose in disgust. “I have a stage name. I detest that I have to carry their last name.” Ah, that explained why he probably hadn’t heard of her before. “Then you should just give them your first name. You shouldn’t hide a gorgeous voice like that behind a silly stage name. You deserve to be credited for that talent.”
Calenthia smiled at him sweetly, placing her hand over his. “You’re sweet. When- when I was younger and was made to do whatever servant work the Valens asked of me, sometimes I would sing to myself. I’ve always loved music and it helped pass the time. It distracted me from the work, and helped keep my mind off of how I would be punished if I didn’t do it correctly. Anlyth overhead me singing to myself one time. Not only did I get punished for it, but the entire time he mocked me. He told me screams sounded much better than my singing, and no one wanted to hear that racket. I know he was just trying to hurt my feelings, adding insult to injury and all, but it’s always sort of stuck with me.”
Astarion frowned at her. “You’ve had to have performed so much since then. And you still don’t see where you’re talented?”
Calenthia shrugged. “I… I know what I look like. I don’t look like the standard tiefling. I’ve heard how others talk about tieflings versus how they speak of me. I always received compliments on my looks, and while I didn’t really particularly believe those either, a part of me has always wondered if Anlyth was right… that no one actually liked my music, they just liked the way I look when I’m performing.”
What in the hells did she mean, she didn’t believe compliments she was given? She was absolutely stunning, her voice was just another thing about her that was unreasonably bewitching. “Well I can assure you, it’s likely both.” Astarion chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Your voice is…divine, but you’re an absolute work of art as well.”
Rolling her eyes fondly, Calenthia’s cheeks reddened. She smiled at him, but it was clear she didn’t believe him. She had no idea just how beautiful she was, and she deserved to. Astarion desperately wanted to show her how beautiful she was, and he had been longing to touch her, really touch her-
He was suddenly sitting up, crawling over to her to pry the lute from her lap, an easy, seductive smirk on his face. “You really have no idea, do you?” He asked. “You think all those comments I’ve made about the others wanting you were just teasing, that all the compliments I’ve given you were just seduction…” He kissed her, deeply, passionately, hoping that she didn’t stop him, that she understood. He pushed in closer and she took the hint, uncrossing her legs and falling back in the tent, and his lips chased after her, slotting himself between her thighs. He kissed down her jaw, smiling at the little pleased sigh when one of his hands worked its way up her shirt, cupping her breast. “You think it’s all a game, that the very sight of you doesn’t light a fire within me that makes me ache for you…”
Astarion was already hard. The fact that Calenthia was so responsive while still allowing him to lead, to set the pace, only aroused him further, and he sighed happily when he nipped at her neck with his fangs and she groaned. He thrusted against her fully clothed, only to get any sort of friction on his aching co*ck, and he suddenly felt detached from his own body, his mind trying to slip back into making the shared moment a job, a chore, and he froze. He shook his head and tried to force past it. He wanted it. He wanted Calenthia. He wasn’t using her and she wasn’t using him. Maybe if he tried hard enough-
Astarion thrusted against her again and he reached for the laces of her pants, and a cold feeling of regret immediately pitted in the bottom of his stomach. He could feel himself losing his erection and tried to keep kissing her neck, to pull himself back, but he finally exhaled a growl of frustration, his forehead falling against her shoulder in defeat. “I’m sorry, love. I’m trying-“
“Stop.” Calenthia interrupted him, grabbing his face and guiding it so that he was staring down at her instead. “Don’t apologize. You don’t need to apologize. I said we could wait until you were ready, and I meant that. I still do. If you’re not ready, that’s alright.” She kissed him softly and sat up, causing him to slump down with his head in her lap pitifully. He knew she meant it, but for how long would that be true? How long would it take for that to be just another burden that he brought to their relationship, and she realized she couldn’t take it anymore?
Calenthia gently carded her fingers through his hair, comforting him lovingly, and it made him sigh in vexation. She was the one missing out on a perfectly normal relationship, and yet she was comforting him. “I used to have a very complicated relationship with sex.” She finally confessed quietly.
“What do you mean?” Astarion asked curiously, using it as a distraction, all but hugging her thighs as he allowed her to continue playing with his hair, far too selfish to stop her from comforting him. She was quiet for a beat, like she was trying to find the words, but continued to run her fingers through his locks.
“When I told you that Anlyth was allowed to punish me in any way that he could think of… I wasn’t exaggerating.” Astarion tensed. He had had his suspicions, but gods he was hoping he had been wrong. “For a long time, I couldn’t associate sex with anything but him. I couldn’t think about it without thinking of anything but pain.”
Astarion frowned, his hands balling into white knuckled fists without releasing his grip on her. There would come a time when his path would cross with Calenthia’s so-called family, and he vowed to put an end to every single one of them. Cazador may have physically punished him, but at least when it came to luring victims, it rarely involved pain. Sure, some of his victims preferred things a little rougher than he would have likely agreed to on his own, but that-
“That’s different.” He said aloud. “What happened to you, and what happened to me… it’s different. What Anlyth did to you- gods, Calenthia, that’s so much worse.”
“Is it really that different?” She asked.
“Absolutely. Without a doubt.”
“Did you want to sleep with all those people?”
“No, but-“
“Then it’s not that different. I didn’t want the things he did to me either. But I didn’t have a choice.” She scratched a particular part of his scalp just behind his ear and he was putty in her hands, just listening to her intently. The conversation was oddly… calming, in a way that was entirely unexpected. It made him understand why it was so important to her for them to communicate. It only benefitted them to do so. “It took me a long time to move past that, to remind myself that my body is my own. It was a long time before I was comfortable crawling into someone’s bed after I escaped the Valen’s estate.”
“How did you get to that point?” Astarion asked softly. He so desperately wanted to get to that point. He wanted to enjoy sex, and he wanted to enjoy it with Calenthia. He just didn’t know how.
“I think- I think it’s different for everyone. For me, I just needed time. I needed to reach a point where I accepted that not everyone wanted to undress me with the intent of wanting to hurt me as much as possible. It didn’t make it any less terrifying, it didn’t mean that I magically, entirely stopped panicking the moment someone put their hands on me. It was just a gradual progress that came in waves, with days in between that felt like I had made no progress at all. And I think… I think for some people the process is entirely different. Some people realize that they don’t want sex, at all. They’ve just convinced themselves that it’s needed for a relationship, because they think it’s what makes a relationship normal, or because they owe that to their partner. But even if someone realizes they’re not actually interested in having sex, that’s alright too.”
Astarion scoffed in disbelief. “Sure it is.” He replied sarcastically. “Because you would be perfectly fine with never have sex again-“
“Astarion.” Calenthia snapped, her hand stopping its hypnotizing stroking. “Sit up and look at me.” He huffed and whined about it a bit first, but eventually sat up, meeting her gaze unsuredly. She cupped his jaw tenderly, and gods, the way she looked at him was enough to make him completely insane. “I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I like sex again. But do you know what I like much more than that? You. If you reach a point where you feel like it’s not something you want to do ever again, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. But I care about you far too much for something like that to change how I feel about you.”
She loved him. She had never said it out loud, and gods, just the thought of her saying it made him want to run for the hills, but she loved him. It was perfectly clear in the way that she was looking at him, in the honesty and conviction in her voice. A part of him already knew, had acknowledged it multiple times, but her sincerity, mixed with the way she looked at him with total devotion and adoration was the last proof he needed not to ever question it.
“Do you trust me?” She asked.
“Yes.” Because he did. Astarion did trust her, more than he had ever trusted anyone.
“Then believe me when I say I don’t even want something if you’re not going to be comfortable with it. And I’ll believe you when you say you truly care about me.”
“Alright.” He replied softly. He brought their lips together again in a chaste kiss. He didn’t understand how he had gotten so lucky when it came to her, but he was trying not to take it for granted.
“I think you need a distraction.” Calenthia teased lightly, pulling her hair away from her neck, his eyes immediately darting to the tempting flesh there.
Astarion laughed. He was so relieved that she could keep him feeding on her separate, that she didn’t view it as strictly sexual even if it completely drove her wild if he bit her when he was inside her… that one of the reasons she liked it was because it made him happy. It was a way for them to be intimate without sex, and he absolutely adored her and her willingness to meet him halfway. He was going to have to find a way to convince her that taking Cazador’s place was the right thing to do, for the both of them, without pushing her too far or upsetting her too much. He couldn’t lose her. She meant too much to him.
