Her Pretty Little Throat : An Ascended Astarion Fan Fiction

Amara

I had spent most of my time accepting my death in those moments between breaths until I could take in air without it hurting, but now I know my fate could be different. I am not prepared for the thought of it.

"What were Moria's powers? Why is she so dangerous to Astarion?" I ask, looking into the eyes of a literal god. "He is already dead."

It is strange. I had grown up outside of religion; my mother had felt that her goddess had forsaken her, so she brought us up trusting in everything that we could see and touch. I never felt that pull of comfort or that intense fear that came with the wrath that a god could inflict. Until I see Gale.

There is a quiet contemplation to his stare, one I assume he had when he was mortal, but the whole thought that a human could claw their way up to the divine shows how dangerous he was and how dangerous he could be. I am thankful that he is on my side.

"At first, Moria oversaw death itself, ferrying souls to their final destinations. Over time, with the cruelty of death, she was thought to be a villain in many of her worshipers's eyes." Gale says, walking over to the fireplace. He swirls his hand, and the fire responds in kind, arcing with blue flames that complement his godly visage. "Death became less about peace and more about power. Then, she realized her power to control the dead stretched farther than those moments after just to help them pass. Moria amassed an army of loyal servants to do her bidding and reap the souls of those who would go against the natural order of death." He clenches his fist, and the fire snuffs out, only to crackle back to life with its natural golden light.

"That's what Matthias wants." Astarion's voice is hollow. I look over to him, and he looks like he is miles away. "He doesn't want to kill me. He wants to control me."

I think back to the night of the ball and Matthias' brazen display, walking up and standing toe to toe with Astarion. He wasn't sizing him up, but he was testing his power and found it wanting.

"You should have killed him that night." I say, "Ended this."

"I'm glad I didn't." He says, reaching out and taking my hand, "I would have lost you. At least now I have a chance to fight for you."

I hold his hand tightly in mine, squeezing as hard as my mortal hands can bear to keep the connection.

"What will happen to me if Moria takes my body?" I ask, turning back to Gale.

Gale looks at me, and his expression betrays him immediately. "I cannot say for sure. This is a fairly unique situation. The fact that an artificer was able to capture the soul, the essence," he says, looking off into the distance, "the animus of a goddess is unprecedented. As is the fact that said goddess is possibly fighting to take over your soul and the soul of Matthias."

"Gale." Astarion growls from beside me.

He nods to Astarion, "His soul is what is keeping you here and holding the transformation at bay. That is why you are not being consumed; it is also the reason why I suspect Moria might be more inclined to choose you as her new body. Among other reasons." Gale clears his throat, and I feel Astarion tense beside me. "That said, if she does complete her transformation, there will be nothing left. Your soul will be consumed in the process."

I look back at Astarion. His eyes stare blankly ahead of him.

"What about Astarion? Our souls are tied."

"She will rend them." Astarion says, not looking at me, "There is an archdevil with a vested interest in my soul. They will not allow any harm to come to it." His eyes find mine, and I can see fire burning beneath that ruby red. "I won't allow it. You're staying with me if I have to kill every god who challenges us."