Working On It
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Summary
Oh, Astarion thinks, mere days after the ship has crashed. He's an idiot. Blessings never cease, truly.
Series
- Part 1 of Working On It
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Gale continues, insistent. "You have made it clear that your personal life is none of my business. I respect that. However, as your companion, I do not believe that the vampire has your best interests at heart."
"Oh?"
"I wonder if you don't--if you might care for him, in a way that he does not care for you. That he may be willingly letting you believe he feels the same, in order to take advantage of your generosity."
Another laugh, unconcerned. "My generosity?"
Astarion thinks, yes, you idiot. He has never met someone so free with their belongings, with their blood, with their affection and their time. All for nothing in return.
He is absolutely taking advantage. How strange to be simultaneously both deeply grateful that something has finally been said and truly resentful at being seen.
Series
- Part 2 of Working On It
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When he sees the Gur, he knows immediately who he is here for. Of course he does. Everything about this man is a message for him.
I can find you wherever you go. Remember that I am the only reason that you are still here at all. Remember how it felt to die in the streets. Remember that I saved you. Remember that you belong to me.
Remember that I will punish you for this. Know what is coming.
Series
- Part 3 of Working On It
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He touches him in the daylight, too. Where anyone might see. A hand on his wrist, an arm around him. Sometimes, near the fire in the evenings, a tired head drops itself onto his shoulder.
Astarion should tell him to stop, he knows. This is dangerous, he should say. If you let people know what you love, they will take it.
He doesn't say anything.
Series
- Part 4 of Working On It
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"I don't think I know how to do that," he admits. "I don't think I know how to care about somebody and mean it."
"Well," Briar says, sounding unbothered. "We could figure it out together. If you wanted. You don't–you aren't stuck being what he made you into."
Astarion works his jaw for a moment, no sound coming out as he tries to let that thought percolate. It slides around in his head like his skull is made of glass, finding no purchase.
The idea that he could be something besides the monster Cazador made. Unfathomable, but so alluring. He wishes he knew how to sink his teeth into it and let it take purchase.
Series
- Part 5 of Working On It
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Sometimes he thinks Briar looks at him and sees the man he was two centuries ago. The power-hungry young magistrate, trying to crawl his way up layers of bureaucracy, who is now long dead and buried. He doesn't know that man, not really, but he thinks sometimes this tiefling might.
Selfishly, Astarion does not want him to stop.
Series
- Part 6 of Working On It
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"I spent some time in a duergar prison once," Briar says, as if that is a normal anecdote to share with the class while infiltrating a duergar stronghold.
"What?" Shadowheart says, because she is the only member of their party with any common sense. "And you thought you should wait to mention this until now?"
The druid shrugs, and Astarion feels vaguely delirious.
Series
- Part 7 of Working On It
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“It’s okay,” he says, in the dark, where nobody can look at him. “You could have him too, sometimes. If you wanted. I wouldn’t mind, as long as we still had this.”
Series
- Part 8 of Working On It
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The wizard takes a slow, deep breath. "I've made a rather large amount of assumptions about you and your character, most of which were unfounded.
Astarion feels his brows raise. "Like what?"
"I—assumed you didn't care about people, in a way you clearly do. I actually warned Briar that I thought you were taking advantage of him, a couple times."
"Yes, and thank the gods you did. I was starting to think that nobody would say anything. It isn't your fault he didn't listen to you." He looks down at his hands, idly picking at some dirt stuck under the edge of a fingernail.
Series
- Part 9 of Working On It