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astarionbraiinrot · 4 months ago

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Last Call

Chapter 6: I Need Some Sleep (Astraea)

(Tarsakh 2, 1493 - 2 Weeks Old)

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I need some sleep

You can't go on like this

I tried countin' sheep

But there's one I always miss

- Eels, I Need Some Sleep

The cats have nestled close to their kittens

The lambs have laid down with the sheep

You are cozy and warm in your bed, my dear

Please, go the fuck to sleep

- Adam Mansbach, Go the Fuck to Sleep

His daughter was crying.

He wishes that this was a new development, but no. No, they’d been at this for… hours? Hours. He’s pretty sure.

Of course, he hasn’t tranced more than one hour in every ten for the last five days, at least, so he wasn’t really sure he could trust his own assessment of how long he’d been walking his screeching daughter in circles through the living room, dining room, kitchen, and back again while she did her level best to melt his eardrums out of his skull.

There was no rhyme or reason to it. She’d been fed. She’d been burped. She’d been changed. She was neither too hot nor too cold. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t comforted by her blanket or her little stuffed bat. There were no loud noises keeping her awake, outside of her own crying. He’d rocked her. He’d walked her. Swaddled and unswaddled her. He’d talked, and sang, and begged and pleaded.

But she wouldn’t stop crying.

And he was very sure at this point that if she didn’t stop and go to sleep soon, he was going to start crying.

He didn’t understand! Babies sleep! It’s what they do! They have exactly three activities: Eat! Poop! Sleep! They’re famous for it!

She’s tired! He knows she’s tired! Because he’s tired!

But she

Just.

Won’t.

Sleep.

Five days of this, or maybe six, he doesn’t know because he doesn’t know what day it even is anymore. He’d made a quick run to the market this evening once the sun was down, and returned to find Tav in their bedroom, sat on the floor next to the cradle, face in her hands, weeping as Scratch tried to comfort her and Astraea wailed like the world would end if she stopped.

He hadn’t needed a Speak with Animals potion to understand the “Please make it stop” in the dog’s laid-back ears and pleading whine as he belly-crawled across the floor to Astarion’s feet.

So he’d put Tav to bed, where she’d fallen asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. Then he’d picked up his daughter, brought her downstairs, let Scratch outside, and prepared himself for yet another endless night filled with the sounds of his daughter’s crying and his own bare feet wearing a path in the wood floors.

Pausing in his pacing, he lets out a long sigh and runs a shaking hand through his hair, which he immediately regrets. It’s dirty, the curls falling in stringy clumps, but he can’t remember the last time he even bathed, let alone had the energy to actually do something with it. He’d lost his shirt at some point, having taken it off and tossed it somewhere in the living room when Astraea had spit up on it. He hadn’t bothered to find another; it would just be more laundry to contend with.

Gods, he was a wreck.

“Please, little love, please,” he tries again, rubbing her back, “I know you can’t understand me, but I’m begging you, please go to sleep.”

When that doesn’t persuade her, he tries bargaining.

“I’ll do anything you want. Buy you a pony, topple a government, endure endless circus clown performances. Anything! I’ll promise to give you everything you ever ask for, spoil you rotten and let you turn into a bratty little goblin with no manners or decorum. I’ll let you run wild with Mol’s little gang of thieves, or- or… I’ll give you all my gold and set you loose in a sweetshop. Whatever you could possibly ask for, I’ll do it,” his voice cracks as he presses his face into her hair and whispers, “just please go to sleep.”

His offers fail to entice her, and her wails only grow louder.

“Fine, fine, okay, you don’t even have to sleep!” He tilts his head back, blinking away tears, “Just- just stop crying, please.”

But she doesn’t, and he wonders if this is what insanity feels like.

Looking out the window, he judges it to be somewhere just past midnight, the full moon high in the sky. It’s a lovely night, cloudless, stars shining like diamonds. The trees at the forest’s edge sway gently in the breeze, and just beyond the crying in his ear, his sensitive hearing picks up crickets and nocturnal forest birds calling. It used to be, when he was feeling restless at night, he would walk the game trails for hours in the quiet dark, picking up the occasional snack as he went, until the world didn’t feel like it was pressing in on him so tightly anymore.

He hadn’t done that for a while.

And right now, running out into the forest to hide for a few days or maybe forever was looking more tempting by the second.

He looks down at the girl in his arms. Her tiny hands alternate between clenched fists balled up tight where they press against his chest and uncurling to let surprisingly sharp little nails dig into his skin, leaving angry red marks behind them. Her face is scrunched up, brows furrowed and eyelashes clumped from her tears, chubby peaches-and-cream cheeks gone splotchy red from the force of her wailing her unhappiness for all the world to hear.

Before he even realizes, he’s outside, crying daughter still clutched to his chest, walking up the path from their porch to the street. He’s barefoot, dressed in naught but his sleep pants, and his hair is a mess, and he doesn’t know where he’s even going.

But he walks.

Time passes. Every few minutes, Astraea’s cries start to taper off as if she might settle, and he gets his hopes up that she’ll finally close her eyes and rest. Only for that hope to come crashing down again when, each time, without fail, something sets her off again, and she resumes her crying at full force. He doesn’t even know what’s doing it, at this point. Maybe he stepped wrong on a cobblestone. Maybe a dog barked in the distance. Maybe the light from a tavern window they passed was too bright. Maybe nothing at all. It doesn’t really matter, because the last few days have been ample evidence that she doesn’t really need a reason to be crying anyway.

He walks, fatigue slowly clouding his mind.

And she cries, unwilling or unable to let herself be soothed.

It’s a light in his face and the sharp, sleep-roughened rasp of a familiar voice that snaps the world back into focus, and he finds himself standing on a familiar doorstep, in front of an open door blocked by an even more familiar figure, the lantern in her hand lighting the space between them. Jaheira’s face morphs from tired, to irritated, to concerned as she takes in the exhausted man and screaming child in front of her.

He stands there, bare feet cold on the stone step, the hems of his pantlegs wet and dirty, hair askew, wailing daughter clutched to his chest, unable to speak as he shivers against the night’s early spring chill.

Jaheira reaches for him, a hand placed on his cheek. “What is it, cub?”

After a moment, he manages to choke out a wet, “I don’t know,” before he finally can’t hold the tears in anymore and his sobs join his daughter’s as they fill the night air with their cries.

── ･✩*₊˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖₊*✩･ ──

The next thing he’s aware of is being sat on Jaheira’s couch, a warmed glass of what smells like pig’s blood in his hand, blinking up at Jaheira as she moves around the room with a bouncing sway, talking to the baby in her arms.

“There now, damia,” she coos, “you have been giving your poor Ada and Amme a hard time with all your caterwauling, little gremishka. But it is not so bad as you tell it, I think. Let I’osu hear your troubles, and we shall soon see them set right.”

I’osu. Grandmother. His ears twitch at the word, and there is the briefest flash of memories; warm, weathered hands holding his much smaller ones, kind lavender eyes in a smiling sun-wrinkled face looking down at him, dove-grey hair twisted in an intricate knot, giggles on his tongue and sticky roseapple jam on his cheeks and the smell of freshly baked bread. It’s gone as quickly as it came, but it leaves him with a little knot of warmth in his chest.

He could object to Jaheira’s use of the word. It’s not just any Elvish word for “grandmother,” it’s specifically the Old Elvish term for one’s father’s mother. And she’s not.

But, for some reason, it makes that little knot of warmth burn even brighter.

As if she can hear his thoughts, Jaheira turns and catches his eye for a moment, and when he makes no objections, she continues talking to his daughter. And whatever she’s doing, it’s working, because Astraea’s still awake, but her wailing has quieted to a tired fussing interspersed with little hiccups, and just a few short minutes later her eyes fall closed as she finally, finally, drifts off to sleep.

Jaheira stays where she is for a little longer, swaying in place and softly humming some lullaby, before she whispers that she’ll be back in a moment and carries his daughter upstairs. When she returns empty handed a few minutes later, she pours herself a glass of wine, bringing the bottle with her when she sits down on the couch next to him.

She doesn’t speak, and he’s grateful for that, because after the minor miracle he just witnessed, he might start crying again if she does.

After a while though, she chooses to break the silence with a question. One he hadn’t considered until this very moment.

“Does Tav know where you are?”

“No, she’s asleep, or she was when I left, anyway. I didn’t really plan it, but Astraea just- she just wouldn’t stop, and it’s been days, and so I just… started walking and I-”

Oh.

Oh no.

Shit, fuck, and damn it all to the hells.

He hadn’t left a note or- or anything. Tav was going to wake up to a silent house and her partner and baby missing and absolutely lose her mind, if she hadn’t already!

He drops his head into his hands, the heels of his palms pressing hard into his eyes. “Jaheira, I think I fucked up,” he rasps.

Jaheira laughs and pats his arm. “You did, cub, but considering the circumstances, I think you can be excused this once. And anyway, it is easily corrected.” Standing, she walks over to the desk in the corner, writes something on a piece of paper, and folds it several times. Then, she gives a low whistle, and a rat runs out from her office to where she’s crouched down, taking the folded paper in its mouth when she holds it out. “Take this to Tav in the Outer City. Yellow house, blue door, near the edge of the forest.” Instructions received, the rat scurries out the door, and Jaheira returns to the couch.

She takes another sip of her drink, then begins speaking again. “Now, I think the ‘why’ of what has brought you to my door at such an hour is obvious, so instead I will only tell you that this is normal, and it will pass.”

“NOR-” he starts to yell, but cuts himself off as she shushes him. He waits a moment, but there’s no sounds from upstairs, so he continues. “Normal?!” he hisses, “what do you mean this is normal? Tav was on the edge of a breakdown this afternoon, and the only thing that’s been stopping me from throwing myself into the harbor is the fact that I can’t actually drown! How can this be normal?!”

“I said it is normal, not that it is enjoyable, or easy. Babies pick up on your emotions, and they mimic them. The last few days have been very hard, I am sure. You are tense and overtired, and she can sense that, so she is too.”

“Te-!” He takes a breath and scrubs his hands down his face to keep from exploding, “Jaheira, this has been going on for five, maybe six, days. She’s not even two tenday old! She’s been crying nonstop for almost half her life, I think we’re well past tense!” His voice drops to a growl, “’Tense,’ oh yes, very helpful, thank you so much for the advice!”

Jaheira just clicks her tongue, “Do not take a tone with me, Astarion. I am understanding, but if you wish to bare your fangs, remember that I bite back.”

He bites his tongue in an attempt to stop the scream of frustration that’s building in his chest. When that fails, he grabs a throw pillow from the couch, shoving his face into it as the scream rips from his throat. He stays like that for a while, face pressed tight to the pillow to muffle his voice as he looses every horrible, guilt-inducing thing he’s wanted to yell the last few days.

Jaheira waits until he’s quiet but for the angry breaths he’s heaving into the pillow, then waits a few moments more, before she speaks. “Do you feel better now, cub?”

Her voice is so calm, so unphased as she takes another sip from her drink, and if it weren’t for the fact that she’s apparently some sort of magical baby-whisperer, he’d bite her purely out of spite.

He’s silent for a long minute, and doesn’t bother to lift his head when he finally answers. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“Welcome to parenthood. Get used to that feeling, you will be experiencing it far more often than you will like.”

He raises his head after a while, roughly brushing frustrated tears from his eyes. Elbows on his knees, he slumps forward, head hanging as he says, “I just… I didn’t expect it to be easy, I knew it wouldn’t be, but it didn’t expect it to be this hard. Tav and I did everything we could think of, everything, but nothing we did helped, and Astraea just wouldn’t stop, and then I bring her here and you have her asleep in- in minutes. And I love her like I didn’t think I could love anything, I do, but I’ve also had to keep talking myself out of just… sticking her in the coat closet and shutting the door, and what kind of monster does that make me?”

He barks out a little half-mad laugh, “Hells, I’m a vampire, for gods’ sake! And- and I’m a mess! Look at me, a few rough nights and I’ve dragged myself through the city, unwashed and half-naked, because I can’t handle one infant. I’m- I’m irresponsible, emptyheaded, contrary and ill-tempered. Lazy, untrustworthy. The first sign of trouble and I’ve dropped it on someone else, just like I always have.”

“What if…” and he can’t stop the crack in his voice as he finally admits the thing that’s been haunting his thoughts for the last few days, “what if I’m not cut out for this? What if I can’t do it?” He pauses to blink back tears, voice rough from the lump in his throat, “Gods, he was right, wasn’t he? I’m really no good for anything else. No one in their right mind would put me in charge of myself, let alone a child.”

“That is not true, and I will not have Cazador’s falsehoods in your head or in my home,” Jaheira’s voice startles him, sharp as a blade. “The man spoke far too much for someone who never said anything of value, in life or undeath. You have proven him wrong on every count too many times for you to give any import to his words, especially now that you have done the world a service by ridding it of him.”

Jaheira’s sigh is weary as she sets her drink on the side table and turns to him, voice softer now. “You are not alone, cub. It will bring you no comfort, I think, to know that everyone who has ever been given charge of a child has felt this way, but it is true. It is no easy thing, to care for someone who is brand new, whose every experience is both their worst and their best because it is their first, who must be taught how to do all the little things we do with no thought at all.” Her fingers tap a rhythm on her knee as she continues, “You will find that there are many stages in a child’s life that will be difficult, maddening, terrifying, and often times all three. This is merely the first. There will be more. You will not know what you are doing, you will second-guess your every decision, you will feel like you are doing everything wrong, and sometimes you will be. You will make mistakes, and you will lose your temper, and you will say and do things you wish you had not.”

He rubs his tired eyes with a scoff, “Is this supposed to be encouraging?”

“In its own way.”

Her touch is gentle as she takes his chin in her hand and turns his face to look at her.

“You will also learn from those mistakes, cub, and you will try again, and you will do better the next time. Life has been cruel to you, I know, and now may not have been the most ideal time for a child, for you or for Tav, but she is here now, so it is the time you have. You will learn together, grow together, and that is no bad thing. This is your first trial of many, and you have all survived to see another day, so you may count it a success. And I promise, one day, when she has grown like the summer thistles and is off on her own adventures, you will look back and this will not seem so terrible, and you will wonder how the time went by so fast without your notice.”

“And what if…” he drops his eyes to look at his hands, before looking back at her, “what if I was very tempted to leave one of us in the forest, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was her or me?”

Her laugh surprises him, and she lets go of his chin as she turns and reaches for her drink. “Then I would say you are in good company.” She takes a sip and continues, voice almost wistful, “Rion was only four days old when she came to me. This was long after Khalid had died, so it was just the two of us, rattling around this house. Oh, she was a fitful, angry little thing, no less demanding or opinionated then than she is now. She did not give me more than an hour’s peace at a time for two tenday, and I do not think I got even a half-night’s rest for the first three months.” She laughs a little at the memory. “I must have cried almost as much as she did, and there were many days where I found myself wanting to set her on the porch and go hide in the basement.”

“That desire goes away eventually,” she says with a wink. Then, tossing back the rest of her drink, she shrugs. “Mostly.”

He doesn’t know how long they stay there on the couch, but he must fall into his trance at some point, because the next thing he knows he’s awakened by the weight of a packed backpack being dropped into his lap, courtesy of Jaheira, who’s standing in front of him with a sleeping Astraea in a sling on her chest.

“Carry that,” she commands, nodding at the bag, “dawn is in half an hour, and my rat has not returned, so either it has been eaten or Tav is spoiling it with snacks as we speak.”

It takes him a second to make sense of the words, and by the time he’s on his feet, bag clutched in one hand while the other scrubs the sleep from his eyes, Jaheira is already walking out the door.

His tongue stumbles over too many questions as he catches up to her, following her down the steps and out into the street. “Wait- what- where-” He decides to start with the easiest one, holding up the bag as he jogs to keep up with her brisk pace, “What is this for?”

“To carry my things.” Her tone tells him she thinks that that should be obvious.

“Well, yes, but why am I carrying it?”

“Because my hands are full with your child.” Okay, fair, she has him there

“But… why do we need it?”

Here she finally turns her head to look at him, “Unlike you and the rest of our former campmates, my days of parading around camp in the nude are long past me, so I will need something to wear during my stay.”

“Your stay? … At our house?”

She huffs out a laugh, amused. “Yes, little vampire, at your house.”

And it’s not that he minds, but, “…Why?”

“Because you and Tav need help, and when you came to me that day in the Elfsong, I promised to help you.” She slows her walking as she turns her head to look him in the eye. “I apologize that I have not done so already. I know what it is like, how difficult the first few tenday are, and I should have made an effort to check on you three rather than waiting for you to come to me.”

He wasn’t expecting an apology, so he doesn’t have a better response than, “It wasn’t your responsibility.”

“Maybe, but I am making it my responsibility now. It is often said that it takes a village to raise a child, and that is certainly not a requirement, but it never hurts to have an extra pair of hands to help. So, I will stay for as long as you need me.”

And just like that, he feels a knot unclench in his stomach and a weight lift off his shoulders. Jaheira knew what she was doing, and she was right, it would be nice to have another person there to help. Someone who could be there with Tav while he went hunting, or be there with him while Tav went on a walk. Someone to keep an eye on Astraea while they got some much needed rest, or help them clear the laundry pile that had been left untended for the last tenday, or just reassure them that they weren’t irrevocably fucking everything up.

Someone who actually knew how to cook and could maybe teach the pair of them, because gods knew that they were both useless in the kitchen and Tav had been living entirely on sandwiches since Astraea was born because it was the only thing either of them could make and the one time they’d tried to use the stove they’d nearly set the house on fire.

Tav was going to be ecstatic.

Dawn is just starting to wash the stars from the sky when they reach his front door, and a question from earlier pops back into his mind as he holds it open for her to walk through and follows her in.

“Jaheira?”

“Yes, cub?”

“Did you actually used to parade around camp in the nude?”

Her answering laugh tells him nothing, but as they make their way up the stairs, he decides they can wait to revisit the subject until after he’s spent the next twelve hours unconscious.

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melkyt · 2 years ago

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Modern BG3 Idea

Astarion: Lawyer Intern in a super prestigious law firm, functions on coffee and spite. He has never known sleep and doubts he will ever. Because of this, when research for a big case is thrown his way, he doubles down, gets even more exhausted, and messes up.

Gale: Self-proclaimed scholar that "dropped out" aka kicked out of a quite prestigious college just before completing his degree after a bad time with a Proffesor who was his mentor since he was a kid. Now he is not sure what to do, is depressed and scrambling to get his life together.

Wyll: He is part of a corps that travels the world and helps people anywhere they can. His father wanted him to join the military, and Wyll was well on his way but got involved with some unsavory people and landed in legal trouble. His volunteer work, while something he would anyway, is also the price he pays for a certain youthful indiscretion

Mizora: a lawyer working for Zariel, who runs at least half the city. With high ambitions, she is always looking for a way to get an edge in any way possible as long as it is within the law. Though sometimes the law can be changed in her favor, and she makes full use of it. Always sends Wyll obscure asks and sends him on errands to strengthen her position.

Raphael: the rich kid who does not get along with his family but uses the wealth and pleasure such connections provide to the fullest. He is disatisfied that his father is content to sit back and not get involved in controlling the city. Mephisto is the oldest and most influential party in the city with a net of information brokers that he does nothing with as far as Raphael can see. So Raph breaks away to start his own dealings in the business of information and is quite successful but is still insecure that his success is only because of his father.

Karlach: is an orphan who grew up in the lower city. She got involved with one of the three criminal organizations in the area as that's just what one did. She got close to the leader of one of them until he double crossed her and dumped a lot of his debt onto her. Debt that she is still paying off by playing mercenary and killer to Zariel. It's been a decade, and she is almost out. at least she hopes so.

Halsin runs a clinic in the lower city where he takes in any and all orphans, homeless and people just down on their luck and gives them odd jobs. His place is considered a neutral ground in the chaos of those streets. This started when he saw someone very important to him die, and there was nothing he could do then. So he promised never to let anything like that happen again. It is wildly known that if you need help, Halsin will help regardless of who or what you are within the intricate power struggles of the city. Though the man does have his limits, and nobody is looking forward to finding them. He discovers a plot that would directly affect the sabctuary he has built and take it on himself to discover what's happening.

Kagha takes over. She is an ambitious woman but with not as much vision for good as Halsin. She has for a long time wanted to make the clinic more official and within the lines of the law but that means anybody who is not 100% legal due to being a refugee or any other reason, will have to leave and many of them will die because of her actions.

Zevlor is a veteran who volunteers around the city. He was once part of the same corp as Wyll under Zariel but saw how corrupt it could get and broke away, which destroyed his life. Anyone spurned by Zariel will not have much of a life and be forced on the streets. He regrets that some of his team followed him in the choice. They are hiding out in the city, hoping to bring down Zariel, and all of them can't legally be in the country as they joined from all different places.

Shadowheart just finished studying to be a doctor to set up an operation within the biggest hospital in the city by order of her cult leader. This cult is small in the city but wants to expand, so they have been working on putting their members in positions of power. She has a mission and will let nothing stop her, and her actions while not getting her caught are on someone's radar. Not to mention now that she is in the outside world experiencing how everyone else lives, she is starting to get some doubts.

Lae'zel - She is a soldier who came to the city from the same place as Shadowheart. Her organization fights to prevent cults from starting up and succeeding. This is painted as a noble pursuit. Yet the reason is that their leader wants to wipe out any and all competition. Lae'zel believes in her cause and seeks to root out the conspiracy. So she gets a job as a security guard in the hospital where Shadowheart is working.

Now to the criminal element 😎

Gortash: Weapons dealer for every organization in the city. His public company has defense contracts and a myriad of production dealings that focus on innovation and war. On the other side he provides arms and men for the other two factions.

Orin has only recently taken over as leader of a vast network of assassins and killers for hire after the very unfortunate murder of her sibling. Everyone knows she killed them as she is quite proud of the kill. Under her leadership, the organization is slowly collapsing, and she is scrambling to keep it together before someone turns on her in the same way that she did on the previous lead. Her father, who had supported the organization, turns away as soon as things start collapsing, as he has no interest in failure.

Ketheric is old money that secrety ran the city, was raising his daughter to take over as he tired but she had run away after cracking from the pressure. News eventually reached him that she had died. So he gave up for the most part in everything. This opened the way for Orin and Gortash to rise up and fill the gaps. Before Orin's sibling died, they were angling to take over as Ketheric's successor and were very close. Gortash tried to pick the pieces, but Ketheric hates the young man and does not see him as someone who can lead. Tensions are getting high between the three factions.

---

That is the scene for this AU.

Now Astarion as the linchpin to get this whole thing started. The case he fumbles with due to exhaustion is something Raphael's father had set in motion decades ago under the noses of everyone. He was biding his time while everyone fought within the city to use his net to take over. That seemingly falls through and leaves a vaccum in the powerstruggle over the city. This empty space can be filled and give the winning faction power enough to control everything.

Astarion runs away as the information he holds is valuable enough to kill and while he took alot of abuse from the higher ups, he would rather not die. He has nowhere to go but decides the lower city is the easiest place to dissapear so he comes to Halsin's clinic.

Now say the Durge survived the murder attempt by Orin thnks to Halsin and is an amnesiac doing odd jobs around the area. Living their best relaxed life away from the drama of their old life.

They are cleaning up at night in the clinic and Astarion runs into the room in a panic. Assassins/Hunters after him. He is out of breath, clutching the information from the case to his chest.

The Durge acts on instinct, not to protect but to kill. At the end they are standing in the middle of the clinic covered in blood and terrified of the memories that suddenly break through the blood fog.

Astarion just a tad terrified of them but also grateful he found a place to rest for the time being.

The Durge cleans everything up on autopilot, and then they talk. So starts their journey navigating all the factions in the city while trying not to die xd.

(I may write this as my next fic, hehe)

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 au #astarion #astarion/durge #gale #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #karlach #halsin bg3 #lae'zel #mizora bg3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 zevlor

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