Recovery (Astarion BG3 Fan Fiction)

7: Burgeoning

Astarion's trance is restless despite his exhaustion, spoiled by a vivid dream in which his mysterious Dream Visitor tells him he must "wield the power" of their tadpole - whatever that means.

When he wakes, he turns to look at Aysla's face to find that she is wide awake, looking back at him.

"Gods!" he gasps. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Oh, get over yourself," she says dismissively, "I was already awake and you were mumbling."

"Why were you awake?" he asks.

"Just up worrying," she says, "you know, the usual. Are there doctors for vampires?"

"I don't know... I can find out?" he replies, bewildered.

"The tadpole is protecting your skin from burning in the sun, but there are vitamin balances that are affected by sun exposure that we ought to check on, too, at some point," she says, eyes far away now.

The sun is beginning to rise. 'How long has she been awake?' he wonders.

At some point in the course of the night, like the flip of a switch, she had come to terms with the fact that she really, really liked him. And, as the only person in the world that she cared even a little bit about, she felt an added weight of responsibility, and her mind ticked.

"...Okay?"

"Did you know you clench your jaw when you sleep?" she says, with an admonishing look. "Anyway. I suppose you just had the 'visitor' dream?"

"Indeed, darling. What's going on with you?" he asks, confused at her sudden fussing.

"What do you mean?" she asks, cocking her head.

"I just mean - why so fretful? I too, value our 'alliance'," he says, calling back to their running joke, "but frankly, you've never concerned yourself much with my well-being until now - outside of our little trysts, of course - which have been ever so much fun ."

She chuckles at that.

"How dare you!" she says, playfully shocked. "I suppose I haven't been the picture of protectiveness. I do like you, you know; at least enough to care if you live or die. Don't tell the others."

Astarion feels a mixture of victory and... nerves butterflying up in his stomach. This was what he intended, right? Now that he's successfully wooed her, his mouth feels dry, his words getting caught in his throat.

"It sounds like our little dream visitor wants us to 'harbor the power,' or whatever - so, you can have the next tadpole, on me," she says, kissing his nose lightly before rising. "Consider it a token of my affection for... all the 'fun', I suppose."

She sneers at the word - 'fun.' Is that all she is to him? Most men are smitten with her after one night, let alone as many as they've shared by now.

Aysla decides then, in her heart, to be petty for the rest of the day.

"I almost forgot - scars?" she offers, already halfway turned towards camp.

"I - well, this isn't your problem, you know," he says, offering her an out.

She twists her face. She sort of wants him be her problem.

"No? I mean, it's up to you," she says, backing off, feeling her pride sting even more.

"Er - no, you're right, wait," he says, starting to get up. "Here."

He turns around, and her mind tentatively reaches out to connect with his, as her eyes comb over the markings.