#batastarion

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Astarion patted the damp cloth over your sweaty forehead. You’d been ill for days but it seems the worst of it was now as your fever tried to break. You laid on your bedroll as Astarion kept watch over you. You stretched, your shirt riding up and revealing a long scar under your stomach, stretching hip to hip.

“What’s that?” Astarion asked, shocked to see such a large scar, he had never seen you without clothes but how could he have missed that?

“A story from a lifetime ago.” you said quietly as you ran your finger over the scar.

“Well I love a good story, and you aren’t going anywhere so… enlighten me.” he said, getting comfortable next to you.

You sighed, “It’s a rather sad story, are you sure?” you asked, adjusting yourself nervously.

He nodded, you let out another sigh before starting, 

“I… had a lover once. They were… Perfect. I couldn’t see the atrocities they caused, so blinded by love. And once I found out… I never stopped them… The horror was for love… The things I did for love like that… It was maddening. Full of sweat and regret. That love burns you, maims you, twists you inside out…” you paused letting out a shaky breath. “It was a monstrous love. And it made monsters of us….”

Astarion wiped the stray tears off your cheek, you hadn't realized you were crying. You sniffled, “I couldn’t remain like that… couldn’t bear to be the thing parents warned their children about at night. I couldn’t serve Bhaal just for love. Maybe it never was love… When I left, I was given a parting gift,” you motioned to your scar, “a friendly disembowelment that wasn’t to be survived.”

You sat up, taking the wet cloth from Astarion and hiding your face in it. You kept the cold rag on you, finding relief in it. You felt a hand wrap around your wrist, slowly pulling your arm away from your face. Your eyes met his. 

“Centuries have passed since and yet… I feel those deaths. All by my hand. Deserved or not. I couldn’t stop myself until it was too late. All for…” you hiccuped at the end, unable to finish. 

“Love…” Astarion whispered as he pulled you into his chest. “People do stupid things for love. Naturally, that's why I avoided it.” he laughed slightly, trying to lighten the mood. “But I understand… I must have brought Cazador thousands. Knowing I was leading them to their doom.” he rubbed your arm, trying to comfort you.

“That’s different, you did that to survive.” you argued slightly. 

“You survived too… Love may make us fools, but it can also make us victims.” he said, tilting your face up so you could look at him. “Victims of a dream. Where nothing and no one can harm you. Just you and your love, forever, in perfect bliss. They always draw you in with that dream, and then, it’s too late. You’re swallowed up in their plot. The things we do out of survival are not always pretty, but they have a purpose. Don’t consume your soul with guilt for things you had to do.” he brushed away a few more tears, kissing your cheeks. 

“I forgave myself a long time ago. But I’ll never be able to forget what I’ve done… a monstrous love…” you whispered the last bit.

This was the first time Astarion was hearing all this. You were much older than he, and he had yet to discover every little thing about you. That was going to take time, just as it did with him. “What kind of love will we have?” he asked, caressing your face. 

“Magnificent?” you asked, not finding a word adequate enough to describe what you felt towards Astarion.

He laughed, a good hearty laugh, “Magnificent indeed little love.”

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Naboo's Note: