#gale x shar mostly

[hexed-padlock]

“A New Type of Vampire”

AU/Headcanon where Tav was part of the party that killed Strahd.

Pairing: Hinted Astarion x Tav but mostly gen. Party & Tav

Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks

Notes: A few people are mentioned, old party members of Tav: Alfvin (human wizard), Rägen (human rogue), and an unnamed Paladin.

Summary: After defeating the Orthon, Raphael upholds his end of the deal and reveals the information behind Astarion’s scars. The tale that’s unraveled reminds Tav of the mists.

————————

Yurgir put up much more of a fight than expected. Even with Karlach’s warnings, they had still been caught off guard with the Orthon’s fondness for explosives. One moment, Tav was clearing out a group of merregons, and the next they suddenly found themselves flung off an overhang with a defeaning boom. Shadowheart had to patch them up with a hasty Healing Word but couldn’t do much more as she was preoccupied with several more merregon.

Now, hours later, they were hurt and still so very sore from the whole ordeal. Shadowheart took the second most hits, while Gale was mildly scuffed up. Astarion, the bastard, somehow avoided getting hit until the end when an unexpected explosion sent him flying straight into the growling displacer beast. Needless to say, they were all happy to have that fight over with.

Tav sighed and dropped onto their bedroll with a low thud. Huntress, they’ve just about had it with fiends.

As if to spite them, the scent of sulfur began to waft through the old, stuffy air of Shar’s Gauntlet. Tav barely had a moment to clamber to their feet before a low orange glow signaled the arrival of Raphael. The rest of the party grabs their weapons as the cambion appears in a flash of brimstone and fire.

“Splendid! I should thank you for making quick work of Yurgir.” The devil was all smiles, fanged and hungry. He briefly mentioned his plans of re-educating Yurgir, which had Tav almost concerned for a moment, before swiftly turning to Astarion.

Raphael actually upholds his end of the deal and Astarion listens with rapt attention as the devil unveils what he learned. A contract, a ritual—between the Archdevil Mephistopheles and the vampire lord Cazador Szarr. Through this rite, Cazador would gain untold power and become a new type of vampire—The Vampire Ascendant. An evolution of sorts that will allow Cazador to gain untold levels of power, backed by an Archdevil of the Hells.

A dark power, a deal, and an all-powerful vampire lord, Raphael summarized.

Tav feels their hands go numb as a low ringing fills their ears. A pit forms in their stomach as a familiar fanged smile flashes through their mind.

The cambion continues speaking, Astarion giving him his full attention. Tav finds their eyes drifting over to Astarion’s and- Oh, gods. A familiar dread slowly crawl ls up their spine, the ringing growing ever louder, as Astarion’s eyes fill with fear… and hunger. Cold grips their insides and a soft caress of a familiar fog wraps around their limbs, clouds their eyes.

In an instant, Tav feels the mists around them- they wander aimlessly but there’s no way out. It’s blinding, disorienting—suffocating. A thick fog spans out in every direction, blanketing the Valley in an eternal gloom. They hear the distant howls of wolves, the eerie childish laughter, and the whispers. He was always watching, Tav knew. No matter where they went, it was never safe. It felt like a nightmare, and maybe it was—for what reality would allow such terror to exist alongside the living? All those souls lost in the pursuit of a monster’s hunger for power. Van Richten, Esmeralda-

Scenes flash through the mists, feeling all too real.

They hear The Huntress calling for them. They feel the Blood Spear echoing the land’s old magic, digging into Tav’s soul, empowering, hungering, thirsting-

They turn sharply in the mist and find a raven-haired human looking back at them, gripping onto a black dagger and clad in dark leathers. A friend. They were safe. Rägen. She was was as deaf as a rogue could be and as paranoid as a bat. Her heart was in the right place once you earn her trust. They’ve handled countless monsters together, having to rely on strangers, now family. Tav blinks and- They see her body, trapped within the amber- cold, cold, cold and alone-

“(Tav)?” … Alfvin? Alfvin. Their wizard, a brilliant arcane scholar and diabolist. A sharp mind and a trusted ally. Sharp brown eyes and black veins along the sclera, a scar running over the bridge of his nose, the familiar smell of sulfur and ash- His body hung from the gallows, the mists caressing a limp cat at his feet.

Raphael vanishes in another swirl of hellfire, descending once more into Avernus.

“Well, that was definitely something.”

Astarion’s lips feel dry as he processes the information Raphael provided. The Rite of Profane Ascension. A ritual that guarantees his death, but also untold potential. Power, freedom. He could keep himself safe, could keep Tav safe.

He expects some wry comment from Tav, but silence is all that greets him. He expected a quip or two about Raphael, maybe a seething comment about the ritual and infernal contracts- not silence.

He turns and finds the party all staring at a very much catatonic Tav. Their eyes are wide and empty, distant. They see something not there and their body shakes with subtle tremors as the air swiftly begins to cool. He flinches because it doesn’t make sense. Tav is bright and shining, someone laughs at danger and taunts fate itself. But this Tav was silent, staring but not seeing.

Astarion wants to reach out, to comfort, but the look on Tav’s face has him glued to the ground. A fear, horror, but of what?

It doesn’t take long for someone to approach Tav. Gale, sweet Gale, calls to Tav and shakes their shoulder.

—————

Someone shakes their shoulder and Tav flinches back, the tadpole responding and lashing out, overwhelmed with the sudden onslaught of memories.

Flashes of manic, chanting voices calling out. “He is the ancient, he is the land.”

A land cloaked in an eternal mist

trapped. trapped- no way out.

empty husks of people walking the streets

ravens crying out in warning

a flash- Blood red eyes, long raven hair

flames eating at a burning windmill. Ye Old Bonegrinder.

the stench of death and a lich’s grin

shadowed entities glinting within the amber that traps them

and a single man, sitting atop a throne, fangs glinting in the candlelight of Castle Ravenloft.

———

The party is flooded with flashes of memories- vivid, horrifying memories. A single name echoes above it all. Strahd.

The tadpoles grip onto the name and a final memory flashes. Strahd, astride his nightmare, plunges a black longsword through their- Tav’s- back. It’s a pain unlike any other. Shadows overwhelm them, darkness taking and taking. The Blood Spear’s tries desperately to stave off the dread plane’s magic as it takes and takes and takes.

A blinding light fills the room and Tav glances back to see a blade of radiant light pierced through Strahd’s middle. Behind him, their bloodied paladin, a Banite sent to conquer but one who’d chosen to instead save, smiles weakly.

Tav whispers, a voice unfamiliar to the party but still overwhelmingly Tav’s, “We’re free.”

They’re wretched from the visions as Tav seizes on the ground, clutching their middle the same way they had in the vision- the memory.

They blink up at the others, eyes wide, as they weakly mutter, “I can explain.”

“What in the Hells was that?!” Astarion screeches. He feels the horrible, pained cries. Sees the horror wrought by a single vampire’s will. Thousands of people, of souls, trapped in a demi-plane because of a single man’s selfish wish. He could practically taste Tav’s own fear, constant, all-consuming, as Strahd played with his new toys. Monsters clawed from the shadows as the dark gods laughed.

The whole party is shaken from the whispers in their heads.

Gale weakly pipes up. “I believe we saw some… interesting memories.” Definitely interesting. Dark magic unlike anything he’s ever seen should count as interesting.

Lae’zel hisses back, “Obviously.”

Shadowheart is silent as the memory quickly passes, echoes of a familiar shadow magic fading as the images vanish.

Wyll shudders as, for a moment, his limbs are frozen. He’s the Blade of Frontiers. He’s slain devils and monsters alike, but the power of a dread lord in his own plane was nothing like he’s experienced.

Karlach surges forward to hug Tav and moves to grab the rest of the party. There’s complaints and a lot of squirming, but they all settle into the hug.

Tav, suddenly surrounded by warmth, sobs. They’re safe.

They’ll explain another time, Tav thinks as they relax into the warmth of their party.

They all understood pain, they all shared their stories, and Tav supported them all with no judgement. They’ll wait. For now, it was time to return the favor.

(Bonus:

(Astarion very pointedly tries not to stare as the memory of sweet, darling Tav killing Strahd fills his mind. Seems like the gods finally answered his prayers.

The slayer of Strahd himself, now fighting to protect him and the rest of Faerün. His heart races at the thought and yep he’s definitely in love now.)

————————-

Hello! Sorry for taking a while to post the next reveal fic. I’m not sure how I feel about this one but it’s a scenario I had drafted up already. I tried my best bur writing really isn’t my strong suit lol.

Next fic is gonna be a lot sillier.

If anyone has some reveal ideas or prompts they have, feel free to reach out!

Tag list:

@writingmysanity @furblrwurblr

[amorgansgal]

Wrote a little something for me mostly! I get to be indulgent because it's almost my birthday! As Vanya is my beloved, oblivious druid I've always hc that it was actually the whole gang who had to point out she was pregnant before she caught wind of it herself, so with Astarion at the end saying she was glowing and Shadowheart basically said she was fat, my little fanfic heart got excited!

Halsin x Female Tav (Vanya)

CW: Pregnancy, references to signs and symptoms of pregnancy, alcohol consumption

‘So,’ Shadowheart sauntered over to Astarion and leaned her head close to the man. ‘I’ve heard tell you were a little more subtle than I, you said Vanya was glowing!’

‘I did. Why, what did you say?’

‘I may have said she was a little more… solid.’

Astarion almost guffawed with laughter. ‘You called the woman fat! Shadowheart, where is your grace and decorum?’

Shadowheart rolled her eyes and took another sip of the wine from the goblet she was holding. They both watched Vanya excitedly chit chat with everyone, she was currently in animated discussion with Gale and Karlach. Not much had changed and Shadowheart let out a soft, contented sigh. It was nice to see everyone, even if she had rather put her foot in it. Though she was surprised Vanya hadn’t immediately told everyone the good news.

‘Wait…’ she said and Astarion quirked a brow. ‘You don’t think… Do you think she doesn’t know?’

‘She’s a druid, isn’t all natural life sacred and important? Surely, she would be able to tell immediately.’

‘Well… Vanya can be…’ Shadowheart gestured with the wine goblet.

‘Vanya can be Vanya,’ Astarion finished for her and she gave a rueful shrug and half nod. Granted, she was one of the heroes of Baldur's Gate and granted she was a powerful druid, but Vanya could also be blithely unaware at times. Sometimes he wondered how they managed to survive and why they had all seemingly chosen her as their leader, given she had a propensity for charging into situations without forethought and relied often on blind luck and relentless optimism! She had been exhausting at the best of times, but Astarion would be lying if he ever said he wasn’t fond of her.

‘Do you think Halsin knows?’ Shadowheart asked.

‘Oh, surely, he must do! That bear nose of his must be able to tell when she is… most fertile as it were, he must’ve noticed that her courses have stopped. Is Halsin just waiting for her to figure it out or is he just-?’

‘Waiting for who to figure out what?’ Halsin’s warm baritone rumbled behind them, they both jumped and then turned around, looking rather sheepish.

‘Uh… nothing!’ Shadowheart said quickly.

Astarion sighed, she’d been much better at lying when she followed Shar. ‘We were both just commenting on some changes we’ve noted in Vanya,’ he said, waiting to see if the elf would confirm their suspicions or question them further. Halsin’s eyes twinkled in merriment and he looked over their heads at Vanya, as she smiled and gave Karlach a very happy hug.

‘I have noticed changes in her, but I think she has dismissed them. She told me first of a stomach complaint and when I lay my hands there I knew what actually ailed her. She no longer likes the taste of fish - a shame to me, but one I can live with as long as I can still hunt for boar and deer with her - and yes, her scent changes with the waxing and waning of the moon, but she has only missed two courses. I am waiting for her to realise and to tell me the news,’ Halsin said.

‘Oh! Can’t you just tell her now, Karlach would be so thrilled and Gale too, Wyll as well I’m sure…?’ Shadowheart said.

‘Nay, she will realise it in due course and we will have another excuse to meet again and celebrate.’

‘Spoilsport!’ Astarion muttered, but gave Halsin a smile. ‘Congratulations to you both.’

‘Thank you,’ Halsin replied. ‘But don’t forget to look surprised when we tell you again, in a month’s time or so.’

‘Although,’ Shadowheart mused as Gale and Vanya made their way over to the feast laden table. ‘You may wish to say something, given that there are several bottles of plum fizz on the table and Vanya is partial to that.’

‘Ah…’ Halsin said, watching Vanya’s as she eagerly picked up one of the bottles and read the label. ‘A point well made, good evening to you both,’ and with that he quickly strode over to Vanya.

‘I have a feeling we might have a revelation by the end of the evening, if Halsin does tell her. Gods knows Vanya can’t keep something like that to herself!’ Astarion said and Shadowheart laughed softly. It was good to be amongst friends again.

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 1: Old Flames Can’t Hold a Candle to New

“So what do you want?” Annoyance resurfaces on her face. “My blood? Sex?” Astarion responds with a snort of laughter. “Even if that were true, rest assured, you would survive the experience.” A smirk forms on his lips, his eyes still exploring her figure. Celeste’s jaw tenses. “What a relief.” He resists the urge to touch her cheek, opting instead to lean closer and murmur almost hypnotically in her ear. “Oh, I would be very gentle with you…” he begins, “the only manipulation you have to fear from me is the kind that would drive you mad with desire…” he purrs. A slight tingle ripples across her skin. She composes herself and brushes it off. “Cute, but no thanks.”

*Reposting after freshly editing chapter 1, currently this fic has 35 chapters, see masterlist here or read on AO3 for more*

Summary: Bored and restless in Gale's tower after their victory over the Netherbrain, Astarion sets his sights on bedding Celeste Delios, an archivist in the Waterdeep library and a former flame from Gale's past.

Celeste, a descendent of the goddess Selûne who has been hunted by Sharrans her entire life, finds herself skeptical of Astarion, but when he seeks her aid in locating a fabled ring that could grant him sunlight, she reluctantly agrees...

Astarion x Original Female Character

Word Count: 3.4k

Content (chapter): descriptions of violence, history of abuse mentioned, language, religion, (d&d/Selûne and Shar, not real), sexual themes. Smut & fluff in later chapters, see AO3 tags or for detailed fic tags and warnings.

Astarion absentmindedly flips through a battered necromancy text at the Castle Waterdeep library, holding his thumb between his teeth. He bristles with frustration, bouncing one leg under the table. Nearly midnight, the moonlight filters through the skylight above.

This has now become a regular occurrence for him.

After the defeat of the Netherbrain and subsequent loss of the tadpole that had granted him immunity to the sun, Astarion had been lodging in Gale Dekarios’ tower, growing accustomed to spending his nights in Waterdeep lurking about the Docks Ward for the past several weeks.

In the beginning, he observed the nightlife from a corner of the Blushing Nymph, a festhall brimming with debauchery. He had hoped to bury his boredom, and perhaps himself, in the company of a stranger, but none of the locals particularly caught his eye.  

He’d never admit it to Gale, but a few nights ago, he took the wizard’s recommendation to peruse Castle Waterdeep’s private library. Astarion had heard whispers in Cazador’s palace of an arcane ring that could allow a vampire to walk in the sun, and if he was going to waste his time playing roommate with Gale and his other companions, he might as well make the most of his spare time. In his search through the stacks, he’d come up empty, thus far, instead finding himself intrigued by something - someone - else entirely.

Tonight, she immerses herself in a tome, her long, ashen hair cascading down her back, intermingling with darker shades of blonde. Her hand rests on her sharp chin as she furrows her brow, jaw clenched, a hint of frustration clear in her focused expression. He’s first noticed her several nights ago and, with nothing better to do, returned to old instincts, watching her from afar, as if stalking prey. His intentions were only slightly questionable. Mostly, he was curious. 

His interest in her hadn’t gone unnoticed. Celestria caught on to the library’s new regular almost immediately. She had spent years with little nighttime company, and his wasn’t a face one soon forgets. Tonight, however, he’d been difficult to ignore. Her concentration wavered under the weight of his intense stare.

“Can I help you?” she asks, annoyed, not looking up from her book. The vampire clears his throat and glances to the side, shaking off a bit of embarrassment from the way she addresses him. Despite his efforts to uphold his charm, he feels unsettled.

“What are you reading? It looks like it has your undivided attention.” He says in a casually flirtatious tone. 

“You know,” she says, still not looking at him, “people typically seek silence, not conversation, in a library.”

Astarion suppresses a twinge of annoyance at her sarcastic remark. Her aura of indifference may be genuine, or perhaps a carefully crafted facade. Regardless, he’s determined to figure her out, unsure if his own curiosity stems from intrigue or a more self-serving motive.

“Are you studying?” he persists, attempting to get through her haughty demeanor. 

“No.” Although she’s not outright rude, her lack of interest in engaging with him is apparent.

Unfortunately for her, Astarion loves to insert himself where he’s not wanted, as long as it’s entertaining. 

“Awful late to be lingering in a private library.” Standing up, he makes his way towards her table, hovering over her. She sighs dramatically and slams her book shut.

“Yet you’re in here, several nights a week, and never during daylight. I’ve seen you around. If you’re trying at all to conceal your nature, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it, vampire.” She gives him a pointed look.  

So she has noticed him.

His curiosity gets the best of him. “Really?” He bends down, extending an arm to lean on the table. 

“Your reading choices aren’t hiding your secret well, either.” She adds, gesturing to his book. Astarion raises an eyebrow and flips it over in his hands before stowing it away behind his back.

Her deduction doesn’t alarm him, particularly because she doesn’t seem to mind his vampirism, just his personality at the moment. 

“I’m a spawn…if we’re being specific.”

She ignores his correction. “How did you even get a pass? There’s no way you’re sneaking past the guards every night.” Astarion grins. 

“I used to be a magistrate back in Baldur’s Gate. I still know how to pull some strings. If anyone asks though, I’m here on behalf of Gale Dekarios’ pass,” he says in a low voice. Her face flashes with recognition and her body language relaxes, but only slightly. 

“Gale? Were you part of that lot that saved Baldur’s Gate with him? Big hero sort?” She doesn’t sound unimpressed, but she’s not in awe of him either, which is a relief. 

“It would be quite a stretch to call me a hero, my dear.” Astarion replies, “It was a tad self-serving as well, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh?” She shows intrigue for the first time in their conversation, rising from her chair and reaching for the tome behind his back. He releases it with a slight scowl and she reshelves it before leaning against a bookcase.

“I wouldn’t say I’m particularly villainous, but I’m far from a paragon of virtue.” Astarion’s eyes rove over her body as he speaks. She searches his face for a moment before extending her hand. 

“Celestria Delios, but Celeste is fine. I’m an archivist here.” Astarion shakes her hand, his lips curling into a sly grin. Her grip is elusive, carefully placed to avoid her hand being squeezed too hard or to allow him to gain any leverage over her. It was a trick he’d used from time to time as well, and it only made her more interesting. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Celeste. Astarion.”

“No last name?”

“Not one you need to concern yourself with.” He answers coolly before changing the subject. “So what’s with the…eyes, if you don’t mind my asking? You don’t quite appear…typical.” 

Now that he’s closer, he can see the features of her face - there’s certainly something ethereal about them. Her hair frames the peak of her cheekbones in delicate waves, a strand brushing against the soft cleft of her chin. Her eyes aren’t atypical for a moon elf, a deep, green-blue hue, but the outside edges of her irises have an almost lunar glow to them.

Celeste gives him an apprehensive look and arches her eyebrow. “I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

“I have several guesses,” his voice takes on a playful tone. “Not a fiend or cambion…” he muses, mischeviously making a show of checking her out, as if looking for a tail. She narrows her eyes and pivots.

He pauses for a few moments, watching her intently. “Are you of the Upper Planes?” he continues to gaze at her, trying to gauge any additional clues.

She hesitates. “My mother was, in a sense. I’m…second generation.” Astarion’s eyebrows raise in genuine surprise.

“And your father?”

“Moon elf.”

“Curious,” he murmurs, pushing himself from his leaning position on the table and reaching forward to tuck a strand of her hair aside to observe the soft point of her ears. She flinches a bit but has nowhere to back away.

She tilts her head to the side. “Excuse you.”

“Apologies.” he retracts his hand with an appeasing smile, raising his palms defensively. “Still adjusting to civilization.” He adds innocently. “Is there a reason you’re being so vague, my dear?” 

“For my own good.” She grabs a stack of books off a nearby table, beginning to sort and shelve them. Astarion follows her, keeping the conversation going as she works.

“Is there danger in being open about your origins?” He lowers his voice and his lips curl upwards flirtatiously. “Are you something controversial?” 

“Nothing like that. Just…” she sighs, considering whether she can trust this strange vampire. She knows enough about Gale Dekarios and the company he keeps, however, to deduce Astarion likely poses no immediate danger to her.

“If people knew everything about me, they may seek to exploit my nature. Or hand me over to others who do.”

“So now you hide out in this library? Are you an archivist because you want to avoid interacting with people? Or to hide that… inner light of yours?”

“Perhaps I just like keeping late hours.” She says with a soft grin. Astarion smiles back at her, enjoying the progress he’s making against her tough exterior. 

“Well my dear, whoever these people are that have driven you to hiding in the shadows, I assure you..” he begins, leaning closer to catch her eye once more and softens his voice, “I would never seek to harm or control you.”

“So what do you want?” Annoyance resurfaces on her face. “My blood? Sex?”

Astarion responds with a snort of laughter.

“Even if that were true, rest assured, you would survive the experience.” A smirk forms on his lips, his eyes still exploring her figure.

Celeste’s jaw tenses. “What a relief.”

He resists the urge to touch her cheek, opting instead to lean closer and murmur almost hypnotically in her ear. “Oh, I would be very gentle with you…” he begins, “the only manipulation you have to fear from me is the kind that would drive you mad with desire…” he purrs. A slight tingle ripples across her skin. She composes herself and brushes it off.

“Cute, but no thanks.”

“Is that so?” Astarion leans in and boldly scans her face as if to challenge her. She squints at him.

“Work on your flirting. It’s a bit…desperate.”

He scowls.

She opens a book, checking a few pages before making space on the shelf for it. “What’s your angle here?”

“Come now, why such mistrust? The offer is tempting, isn’t it? You know, I recently encountered a drow alchemist who practically begged for me to drink her blood. Unfortunately…” his voice trails off, nose wrinkling at the memory, “she wasn’t my type.” 

“In that case, you���re looking in the wrong place. Archivists are more interested in studying fascinating subjects than experimenting with them.” She says to him dryly. “Who do you feed on, anyway? I haven’t noticed any mysterious disappearances in Waterdeep lately. Well, any more than the norm.”

“Animals, mostly. Kobolds, bears…” he says, his voice fading away in thought. “There was a time when I was occasionally gifted a foul rat, but now I have a greater selection to choose from. I have to admit that animals have been my primary source of sustenance since I escaped my former master. I’ve had a generous enemy, now and then. And Gale, once. What?”

“Gale?”

“I don’t recommend it.” Astarion says. “Bad side effects.” Celeste lets out a noise that could almost be mistaken as a suppressed laugh. 

“If you’re a spawn, where is your master? I don’t see him lurking about.”

Astarion’s face becomes rigid. “Cazador Szarr,” he begins gruffly. “is dead. Right before that battle in Baldur’s Gate, Gale and some of my… friends,” he pauses, considering the word, not quite used to it, “... helped me kill him before he could kill me. I’m free of him now, to live as I wish.” 

“How terrible. I’m sorry.” Celeste feels a moment of sympathy for him, as if the revelation explains his behavior. She’d sensed all the grandiosity and flirtation was a front to conceal something deeper.

Astarion shrugs, his face once again displaying its usual glamour. “Let’s not dwell on it.”

“Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.” She suggests. Astarion’s expression turns curious once more. 

“In what ways are we similar?”

“Well, for starters,” she bends and picks up her things from the table. “We both seem to be nocturnal.” Winking at him, she saunters off.

Astarion can’t help smiling to himself.

As she walks under the skylight, the moon’s glow illuminates her hair until she disappears into the library’s basement. After considering what she said, he leaves the library and wanders back to Gale’s tower through the Dock Ward. It’s late, but Gale would still be up.

The Dock Ward was notoriously raucous and its stench of rotting fish isn’t particularly appealing to Astarion, but Gale lived close enough to the edge of the Castle Ward that Astarion had to only tolerate the walk there. The immediate vicinity of the tower itself was more pleasant, only a few blocks from the estate of one of the richest men in Waterdeep.

Moreover, Astarion frequently held the privilege of often being the most dangerous thing lurking in the darkness, anyway. 

Gale’s description of his home as a tower had felt like an exaggeration once Astarion had seen it. It wasn’t a small dwelling, but it certainly wasn’t some grand castle-like structure, either. Though Astarion would never reveal it, he found it quite comfortable. His sunlight aversion and insistence on being alone during the day led to his seclusion in the windowless attic. Regardless, he was grateful he didn’t have to make arrangements on his own elsewhere. 

His and Gale’s fellow traveling companions occupied the other guest rooms. After defeating the Absolute, Astarion and Shadowheart returned to Waterdeep with Gale, having nowhere else to go. Minthara and Karlach had gone to Avernus in search of a way to fix Karlach’s infernal engine, a hellish machine that kept her alive but threatened to make her combust on the mortal plane. When they’d come to Waterdeep, triumphant, the two were quite happy to share a room, a development that none of their party found surprising by the way Minthara doted on Karlach during their travels. Shadowheart had the unfortunate fate of sharing a wall with the two of them, but didn’t complain too often. 

Their other companions had moved on, embarking on fresh beginnings. Last Astarion heard, Wyll was in Baldur’s Gate, helping his father, Duke Ravengard, protect and rebuild the city. Lae’zel was gods know where, but seemed fulfilled carrying out her duties amongst the Githyanki. Jaheira and Minsc stayed behind as well, surrounded by Jaheira’s family and her remaining Harpers. Halsin had taken their animal companions, Scratch and an owlbear cub, back to the Grove, happy to escape the city. Gale’s home had effectively become an orphanage for dysfunctional vagabonds. 

Engrossed in a book by the fire, Gale sits with his tressym, Tara, perched beside him as Astarion enters the den. A pang of envy at his friend’s idyllic, quiet life tugs at Astarion as he lingers in the doorway - something he feels he will never quite have, but all the same, isn’t sure he’d enjoy so much. He frequently finds himself restless in Waterdeep, but doesn’t have a clue where else he could go right now. His newfound freedom still overwhelms him. 

He settles in the chair opposite Gale, gracefully crossing one leg over the other. “I believe I met an acquaintance of yours this evening at the library.” 

Gale looks up at him. “Oh?” Astarion nods.

“Her name was Celeste.” A look crosses Gale’s features that Astarion can’t quite identify. “What?” He inquires with a raised eyebrow.

“I knew her. Long ago. Archivist, yes? Weird eyes?” Gale gestures in a circular motion around his face as he asks the question. Astarion dips his chin. 

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, a lovely girl she was,” Tara says dotingly, leaping to the floor and resettling near the fireplace to groom her paws.

“Your cat has met her? How well did you know her?”

“Tressym, dear.” Tara warns.

“We ran in similar circles as teenagers.” He says, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. Astarion notices his discomfort but doesn’t comment on it.

“She was quite elusive with the details of her life.”

As Gale stands up, “Well, she’s quite cautious. I’m only privy to the deeper details of her…heritage because of my relationship with Mystra.” He peruses a nearby shelf as he speaks. He pulls an old book out and dusts it off, handing it to Astarion, who glances at the spine, looking for its title: The Lost Children of the Moon. 

“She’s a Moonborn.” Gale says, “History’s all there. Are you familiar?” With a flick, Astarion turns a few more pages.

“I thought her kind were just stories, honestly.” Astarion responds, reading a paragraph:

It is said that the Moonborn originated from Selûne during her conflicts with her sister Shar, the mistress of the night. Selûne crafted the Moonborn from her shimmering shards and silver essence, fashioning them into celestial servants of the moon. These beings were bestowed with humanoid forms and tasked with safeguarding life and illuminating the darkness.

The book shows a map of Faerûn, illustrating the potential places of Moonborn settlements, one in Waterdeep near the House of the Moon temple, another near Snowdown. There are a few potential locations marked, loosely cited. 

“Who writes these kinds of volumes?” Astarion asks. “This seems like a rare text.” 

Gale grins. “It is. I’m guessing a Moonborn themselves wrote it long ago. It came into my possession during my time with Mystra, entrusted in my care,” he says proudly. 

“Fucking Mystra, again.” Astarion mutters. Though the goddess had removed the threat of the orb from Gale’s chest that made him a walking time bomb, and Gale had disengaged with her, he still reminisced with a distant fondness, no doubt proud he’d once convened with a goddess.

“Celeste was part of the settlement of Moonborn here in Waterdeep.” Gale muses. “Just over a decade ago, when she was a teenager, the Moonborn suffered a devastating attack by the Sharrans. Her entire family died, and as she tells it, she nearly perished with them, but Selûne intervened. How, I’m not sure.”

“So she’s just been wandering her whole life since then, alone?” Astarion asks.

“Not wandering.” Gale responds. “Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure Jaheira and the Harpers took her in for a little while when Celeste was turned away from an orphanage in Baldur’s Gate because of her age. Either way, she ended up back here. She’s been at the library for years. I don’t think she likes her quiet existence, just rather she’s forced into it. Hard to make friends when you have a big secret to keep. Surely you know something about that.”

Astarion listens to Gale but doesn’t engage, distracted by the book in his hands. “She said she’s nocturnal. Can her kind not live in the sunlight?” 

“They can.” Gale answers. “My understanding is that it’s just not preferable. She always found the daytime draining, as I recall. I’ve only ever seen her in the evening or early morning hours.” 

“Is she immortal then, too?” Astarion asks. 

Gale shrugs. “I’m not sure. Both Moonborn and moon elves have long lifespans, and Moonborn stop aging around 28 years. It’s rare to come across even immortal beings who don’t meet their demise within a few centuries.”

“You seem to know…quite a lot about her.” Astarion comments, closing the book and leaning forward. A hint of blush appears on Gale’s cheeks. 

“Like I said, we…knew one another.”

“Oh?” Amusement tinges Astarion’s voice.  

“Yes.” Gale says, looking at the fire. “We, ah...” his voice tapers off. “Before Mystra, Celeste…was my first.”

“She took your virginity?” Astarion lets out a bark of laughter and Gale shoots him a disapproving look.

“It wasn’t anything special. I had no clue what I was doing. She was…nice about it. We were young. I’d rather not dwell on that detail. I’m sure she’s eager to forget about it herself. Mystra had my entire attention soon after.”

Gale walks to the stove and puts on a kettle of hot water. “Perhaps Celeste and Shadowheart would have something to chat about.” He muses.

“So she’s a survivor of tragedy, a chosen of Selûne,” Astarion grins, “and a crush of yours.”

Gale scoffs. “I think I’ve had my lifetime’s fill of immortal and nearly-immortal women. But what’s this about, Astarion? I’ve never known you to be so intrigued by anyone during our travels together.” Gale regards him suspiciously. “Rather, what’s in this for you?”

“Curiosity.” Astarion waves his hand dismissively.

As Gale retreats to his room, Astarion reverts his attention back to the book.

Throughout history, the Moonborn have dedicated themselves to combating nocturnal evils, including deranged lycanthropes and vampires, striving to uphold the sanctity of light and life.

“Well…fuck.” He mumbles to himself.

When the morning sun appears on the horizon over Waterdeep, beginning to cascade through the curtains, Astarion wearily climbs the stairs to the attic. He eases into a trance, eager for night to fall once again.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you feel so inclined, ANy interaction/kudos on AO3 or Tumblr means the world to me! You find the full fic on AO3 here! Thank you so much! x

[thetavolution]

20 TAV/OC QUESTIONS

Please consider yourself tagged if you are interested in building these details for your tav/oc! Feel free to @ me as I would love to read them

I'm doing this for Minty (shield dwarf cleric, tempest domain) and Laura (high elf sorcerer, draconic bloodline)!

Minty

I. what do they smell like at their freshest? (and/or after a tenday. your choice)

I associate her with elderflowers and apple blossoms. It's what she smells like when she isn't stuck adventuring for a tenday.

II. what would their blood taste like to vampires?

She'd like to think she has hardcore blood, but it actually just tastes like plum wine or, knowing her luck, cheese. It's probably cheese.

III. how would they kiss their LI?

She's madly in love with Wyll. He's a gentleman with her. It's a lot of courtly dances, hand kisses, and gentle yet brief kisses in passing. In public, it usually remains chaste yet loving. Behind closed doors, she lets loose a lot more and gives much more passionate kisses.

IV. how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

She starts off the night cuddling Wyll, but then ends up on the other side of the bed after she's drifted off to sleep. It's nothing personal. She just moves around a lot. When she wakes in the morning, she goes right back to groggy cuddling, not wanting to let him get up.

V. what does their tent area look like? where do they prefer to pitch their tent (next to water, covered on three sides, etc)?

She carries a lot of herbs to make potions and medicine. She'd be off on her own away from everyone at first. Then she'd just move into Wyll's tent.

She'd have her doodling notebooks with her. While adventuring, she'd mostly just focus on having weapons, spells, and potions in her tent. But she'd also see a few objects she'd want to keep, like the toad teapot and possibly bat-themed decor she found.

She definitely kept that teapot though.

VI. if they had a set of dnd dice, what would they look like?

They'd be black and green. In her original story, here hair is half black and half green.

Photo Origin: MMzakkahappysupplies

VII. do they collect anything (gems, bottles, keys, etc)?

She doesn't really collect one specific thing. She likes to draw and doodle so she has a lot of notebooks.

VIII. if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?

She'd start her own bookclub with Laura and Ingrid. They'd read a lot of horror or terrible novels.

But she'd also be in Wyll and Shadowheart's bookclub. She and Wyll would definitely read trashy romance novels together and get ideas from them. (These two 100% roleplay in the bedroom, let's be real.)

IX. if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

Shadowheart. Minty follows Selûne and Shadowheart is a Shar worshipper. They goth princesses on opposite ends of the spectrum and get into fights about it.

However, Minty shoves it all aside when Shadowheart begins her path away from Shar. She just tries to be kind to her and help her recover from being in a cult.

X. do they prefer speak with dead or speak with animals?

Speak with animals, of course!

XI. what are their thoughts on clowns?

She's not a fan. She also thinks about too many horror scenarios involving clowns. They freak her out a little. She never trusted Dribbles... but she does feel bad about the whole, well. Everything that happened to him.

But she learns to suck it up for Wyll's sake. His love for them is too adorable for her to try and stop him.

XII. their companions are gossiping about them behind their back! who is it and what are they saying?

She's used to being gossiped about. She and her sister are unmarried and the people in her neighborhood gossip about it. As for her companions, they just gossip about how she's kind of ditzy.

They also have a lot to say about her romance with Wyll. Everyone has thoughts on how much of a fairytale romance it is, or that they're probably secretly freaks in the bedroom.

XIII. what makes them laugh? what does their laugh sound like?

She loves dark humor and silly, stupid humor. She won't admit that she thinks Astarion is funny, but she does. She jokes around a lot with Karlach. She also thinks Wyll's sense of humor is very underrated and under appreciated.

XIV. do they have any inside jokes among their companions?

She and Wyll definitely have their little inside jokes, especially lovey dovey ones. They're disgusting and I love it. She'd also have some with Karlach. She and Karlach would try to explain the joke to everyone, but it would fall flat.

They're not technically companions, but her inside jokes with Ingrid and Laura span years.

XV. what’s the description of their camp clothes in the inventory menu?

"For someone so chipper, she sure does like to dress like she's in mourning."

XVI. what’s the description of their underwear in the inventory menu?

"Did she write her name on her underwear?"

XVII. how do they celebrate their birthday?

She loves a good party with friends and family. She's close with her mom and sister so the first half of the day is usually enjoying food and drinks with them. Her father passed away which is the only reason he's not with them.

Laura and Ingrid are, of course, part of the family and involved in the celebration. She always has a DnD/BG3 version of sans rival cake for her birthday.

In the evening, she would hang with Laura and Ingrid while telling scary stories that they wrote themselves. They try to top each other every year.

XVIII. what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?

She would definitely get Wyll to watch her shows with her and she'd watch his in return. Would Wyll like them? I think it'd be hit or miss.

Her shows would be Penny Dreadful, From, Supernatural, and Dead Boy Detectives. She'd also love What We Do In the Shadows and Ash vs Evil Dead like Ingrid. Wyll would also get her to watch Bridgerton because of course he would.

XIX. do you have a playlist for your tav? if so, what’s the title + description?

I just prefer to list all of the songs. I don't really title or add descriptions to them.

Groundhog Day - Em Beihold

Victoria's Secret - Jax

Can't Wait To Be Pretty - Cate

Sweet Hibiscus Tea - Penelope Scott

Honey and Glass - Peyton Cardoza

Fat Funny Friend - Maddie Zahm

Diet Coke - Leanna Firestone

If You Were Here - Poe

Sugar Rush - Addison Grace ( for Minty/Wyll)

Fuck the Bourgeoisie — Feral

Strawberry Mentos - Leanna Firestone

Wo Yao Ni De Ai - Grace Chang (for Minty/Wyll)

Diet Culture - Brye

Crypitd (Mothman) - Ratwyfe

Cover Me In Sunshine - P!nk and Willow Sage Hart

W.I.T.C.H. - Devon Cole

Orange Colored Sky - Natalie Cole (for Minty/Wyll)

Cough Syrup - Young the Giant

Uhaw — Dilaw (for Minty/Wyll)

Home — Luke Chiang (for her family, Laura, and Ingrid)

XX. if you were to try pickpocketing them, what would they be carrying?

Herbs. She'd also have a notebook of doodles. She'd have a lot of drawings of her companions and loved ones, especially Wyll.

Laura

I. what do they smell like at their freshest? (and/or after a tenday. your choice)

She always smells like chamomile.

II. what would their blood taste like to vampires?

There'd be something draconic about it, but also a hint of chamomile tea. It'd be like sucking on a dragon with a tea habit.

III. how would they kiss their LI?

She falls for Lae'zel. These two are maniacs who treat making out like it's a fight. It's hot, heavy, and slightly violent (consensually so). These kisses get softer as both of them open up to each other more. She avoids most PDA out of respect for Lae'zel.

IV. how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

Lae'zel likes to be near her and Laura happily wraps her arms around her before falling asleep. Lae'zel refuses to admit, at first, how much she likes cuddles. Laura just plays along.

V. what does their tent area look like? where do they prefer to pitch their tent (next to water, covered on three sides, etc)?

She loves math so there'd be an abacus. She also has crossword puzzles and other things lying around, and possibly whatever math games she can get her hands on. She would probably make sure she was in the center of everything to see where everyone is. It also means she's covered on all sides.

VI. if they had a set of dnd dice, what would they look like?

They'd be bright orange.

Photo Origin: Reastudio

VII. do they collect anything (gems, bottles, keys, etc)?

If it counts, knitting supplies. She loves knitting.

VIII. if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?

Astarion and Gale, for sure. She loves to study magic and literature. She doesn't have anything against trashy novels, of course. She'd just only talk about them with Minty and Ingrid. She also loves horror novels.

IX. if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

It would be with Astarion. They are very prickly toward one another. Once she starts to understand him and his issues, she chills out a bit. She doesn't totally forgive all of his bullshit, but she's open to letting him have a chance to change.

X. do they prefer speak with dead or speak with animals?

She'd prefer speak with animals.

XI. what are their thoughts on clowns?

She's not a fan. They don't scare her, she just doesn't get it. But she does love Wyll's enthusiasm for them. It's cute.

XII. their companions are gossiping about them behind their back! who is it and what are they saying?

They'd gossip about how she really will not reveal anything about her past. This would happen after her companions begin to open up to her, but she doesn't return the favor. She's too ashamed of her history. She would eventually tell them, but it's spoilers for her OG story.

They would also gossip about her romance with Lae'zel. They all have a lot of thoughts on it, and it's hilarious to watch unfold.

XIII. what makes them laugh? what does their laugh sound like?

Laura has a similar sense of humor to Minty and Ingrid. She does love sarcasm and dark humor. Jaheira can always make her laugh. She also loves goofy humor and she reluctantly laughs at Gale's jokes.

I'd also say a lot of her jokes are inspired by Jenny Nicholson's deadpan response to things. She loves subtle, deadpan jokes that can be overlooked if you're not paying attention.

XIV. do they have any inside jokes among their companions?

She would definitely have some inside jokes with Jaheira. Lae'zel would be a little jealous about it. Lae'zel would slowly start to have inside jokes with her. At one point, Laura just has to say the word "Bat" at Lae'zel and she'll laugh. Lae'zel knows what it means.

She has a lot of inside jokes with Minty and Ingrid, of course. Those go back years. They might not even remember the origin of some of them.

If Minty and Ingrid were present when meeting Sluck, they would definitely make "tribe?" a running joke. Laura kinda liked Sluck. In another life, she'd have recruited her.

XV. what’s the description of their camp clothes in the inventory menu?

"This outfit tells the tale of someone who yearns for a simpler and bucolic life."

XVI. what’s the description of their underwear in the inventory menu?

"They're brimming with magic, as if it might give anyone who touches it a shock. Depending on what you're into, it might not be such a bad thing."

XVII. how do they celebrate their birthday?

Laura doesn't talk about how she celebrated growing up. She just isn't interested in revisiting those days.

But ever since she moved to Baldur's Gate, she's learned to really enjoy her birthday. She just likes to get together with friends and have a simple picnic.

She also prefers pie over cake. She usually goes for strawberry rhubarb.

XVIII. what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?

She's definitely watching From, What We Do In The Shadows, and Ash vs Evil Dead with Minty and Ingrid. She'd also really love Killing Eve, Deadloch, The Great Pottery Throw Down, Barry, and Atlanta. She also would like Numb3rs.

Lae'zel would tell her she refuses to watch her shows... but then stand there and keep watching. Laura wouldn't push it. She'd just Lae'zel slowly get entrenched on her own.

XIX. do you have a playlist for your tav? if so, what’s the title + description?

You Might Not Like Her - Maddie Zahm

Am I Supposed to Apologize - Maria Mena

Father - The Front Bottoms

I've Had Enough - Melina KB

At Seventeen - Janis Ian

Haunted House - Mckenna Grace

Rly Don't Care - chloe moriondo

mad at god - Sarah Saint James

After The Fall - October Project

Wrath - Sir Chloe

Pink Pony Club — Chappell Roan

Give It to Me — Olivia Escuyos (for Laura/Lae'zel)

Numb Little Bug - Em Beihold

Pretty Girl hi! — UMI (for Laura/Lae'zel)

Care - beabadoobee

Killer — Valerie Broussard (for Laura/Lae'zel)

EXCUSES - Ande Estrella

Kiss or Kill — Stela Cole (for Laura/Lae'zel)

Tongues & Teeth — The Crane Wives (for the beginning of her relationship with Lae'zel)

Cottagecore — Aeris

XX. if you were to try pickpocketing them, what would they be carrying?

Spell scrolls when on the road. Other than that, she probably has yarn on her for her knitting when in town.

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 1: Old Flames Can’t Hold a Candle to New

“So what do you want?” Annoyance resurfaces on her face. “My blood? Sex?” Astarion responds with a snort of laughter. “Even if that were true, rest assured, you would survive the experience.” A smirk forms on his lips, his eyes still exploring her figure. Celeste’s jaw tenses. “What a relief.” He resists the urge to touch her cheek, opting instead to lean closer and murmur almost hypnotically in her ear. “Oh, I would be very gentle with you…” he begins, “the only manipulation you have to fear from me is the kind that would drive you mad with desire…” he purrs. A slight tingle ripples across her skin. She composes herself and brushes it off. “Cute, but no thanks.”

Summary: Bored and restless in Gale's tower after their victory over the Netherbrain, Astarion sets his sights on bedding Celeste Delios, an archivist in the Waterdeep library and a former flame from Gale's past.

Celeste, a descendent of the goddess Selûne who has been hunted by Sharrans her entire life, finds herself skeptical of Astarion, but when he seeks her aid in locating a fabled ring that could grant him sunlight, she reluctantly agrees...

Astarion x Original Female Character

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: descriptions of violence, history of abuse mentioned, language, sexual themes, religion, (d&d/Selûne and Shar, not real), smut & fluff in later chapters

Read on AO3

Astarion absentmindedly flips through a battered necromancy text at the Castle Waterdeep library, holding his thumb between his teeth. He bristles with frustration, bouncing one leg under the table. Nearly midnight, the moonlight filters through the skylight above.

This has now become a regular occurrence for him.

After the defeat of the Netherbrain and subsequent loss of the tadpole that had granted him immunity to the sun, Astarion had been lodging in Gale Dekarios’ tower, growing accustomed to spending his nights in Waterdeep lurking about the Docks Ward for the past several weeks.

In the beginning, he observed the nightlife from a corner of the Blushing Nymph, a festhall brimming with debauchery. He had hoped to bury his boredom, and perhaps himself, in the company of a stranger, but none of the locals particularly caught his eye.  

He’d never admit it to Gale, but a few nights ago, he took the wizard’s recommendation to peruse Castle Waterdeep’s private library. Astarion had heard whispers in Cazador’s palace of an arcane ring that could allow a vampire to walk in the sun, and if he was going to waste his time playing roommate with Gale and his other companions, he might as well make the most of his spare time. In his search through the stacks, he’d come up empty, thus far, instead finding himself intrigued by something - someone - else entirely.

Tonight, she immerses herself in a tome, her long, ashen hair cascading down her back, intermingling with darker shades of blonde. Her hand rests on her sharp chin as she furrows her brow, jaw clenched, a hint of frustration clear in her focused expression. He’s first noticed her several nights ago and, with nothing better to do, returned to old instincts, watching her from afar, as if stalking prey. His intentions were only slightly questionable. Mostly, he was curious. 

His interest in her hadn’t gone unnoticed. Celestria caught on to the library’s new regular almost immediately. She had spent years with little nighttime company, and his wasn’t a face one soon forgets. Tonight, however, he’d been difficult to ignore. Her concentration wavered under the weight of his intense stare.

“Can I help you?” she asks, annoyed, not looking up from her book. The vampire clears his throat and glances to the side, shaking off a bit of embarrassment from the way she addresses him. Despite his efforts to uphold his charm, he feels unsettled.

“What are you reading? It looks like it has your undivided attention.” He says in a casually flirtatious tone. 

“You know,” she says, still not looking at him, “people typically seek silence, not conversation, in a library.”

Astarion suppresses a twinge of annoyance at her sarcastic remark. Her aura of indifference may be genuine, or perhaps a carefully crafted facade. Regardless, he’s determined to figure her out, unsure if his own curiosity stems from intrigue or a more self-serving motive.

“Are you studying?” he persists, attempting to get through her haughty demeanor. 

“No.” Although she’s not outright rude, her lack of interest in engaging with him is apparent.

Unfortunately for her, Astarion loves to insert himself where he’s not wanted, as long as it’s entertaining. 

“Awful late to be lingering in a private library.” Standing up, he makes his way towards her table, hovering over her. She sighs dramatically and slams her book shut.

“Yet you’re in here, several nights a week, and never during daylight. I’ve seen you around. If you’re trying at all to conceal your nature, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it, vampire.” She gives him a pointed look.  

So she has noticed him.

His curiosity gets the best of him. “Really?” He bends down, extending an arm to lean on the table. 

“Your reading choices aren’t hiding your secret well, either.” She adds, gesturing to his book. Astarion raises an eyebrow and flips it over in his hands before stowing it away behind his back.

Her deduction doesn’t alarm him, particularly because she doesn’t seem to mind his vampirism, just his personality at the moment. 

“I’m a spawn…if we’re being specific.”

She ignores his correction. “How did you even get a pass? There’s no way you’re sneaking past the guards every night.” Astarion grins. 

“I used to be a magistrate back in Baldur’s Gate. I still know how to pull some strings. If anyone asks though, I’m here on behalf of Gale Dekarios’ pass,” he says in a low voice. Her face flashes with recognition and her body language relaxes, but only slightly. 

“Gale? Were you part of that lot that saved Baldur’s Gate with him? Big hero sort?” She doesn’t sound unimpressed, but she’s not in awe of him either, which is a relief. 

“It would be quite a stretch to call me a hero, my dear.” Astarion replies, “It was a tad self-serving as well, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh?” She shows intrigue for the first time in their conversation, rising from her chair and reaching for the tome behind his back. He releases it with a slight scowl and she reshelves it before leaning against a bookcase.

“I wouldn’t say I’m particularly villainous, but I’m far from a paragon of virtue.” Astarion’s eyes rove over her body as he speaks. She searches his face for a moment before extending her hand. 

“Celestria Delios, but Celeste is fine. I’m an archivist here.” Astarion shakes her hand, his lips curling into a sly grin. Her grip is elusive, carefully placed to avoid her hand being squeezed too hard or to allow him to gain any leverage over her. It was a trick he’d used from time to time as well, and it only made her more interesting. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Celeste. Astarion.”

“No last name?”

“Not one you need to concern yourself with.” He answers coolly before changing the subject. “So what’s with the…eyes, if you don’t mind my asking? You don’t quite appear…typical.” 

Now that he’s closer, he can see the features of her face - there’s certainly something ethereal about them. Her hair frames the peak of her cheekbones in delicate waves, a strand brushing against the soft cleft of her chin. Her eyes aren’t atypical for a moon elf, a deep, green-blue hue, but the outside edges of her irises have an almost lunar glow to them.

Celeste gives him an apprehensive look and arches her eyebrow. “I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

“I have several guesses,” his voice takes on a playful tone. “Not a fiend or cambion…” he muses, mischeviously making a show of checking her out, as if looking for a tail. She narrows her eyes and pivots.

He pauses for a few moments, watching her intently. “Are you of the Upper Planes?” he continues to gaze at her, trying to gauge any additional clues.

She hesitates. “My mother was, in a sense. I’m…second generation.” Astarion’s eyebrows raise in genuine surprise.

“And your father?”

“Moon elf.”

“Curious,” he murmurs, pushing himself from his leaning position on the table and reaching forward to tuck a strand of her hair aside to observe the soft point of her ears. She flinches a bit but has nowhere to back away.

She tilts her head to the side. “Excuse you.”

“Apologies.” he retracts his hand with an appeasing smile, raising his palms defensively. “Still adjusting to civilization.” He adds innocently. “Is there a reason you’re being so vague, my dear?” 

“For my own good.” She grabs a stack of books off a nearby table, beginning to sort and shelve them. Astarion follows her, keeping the conversation going as she works.

“Is there danger in being open about your origins?” He lowers his voice and his lips curl upwards flirtatiously. “Are you something controversial?” 

“Nothing like that. Just…” she sighs, considering whether she can trust this strange vampire. She knows enough about Gale Dekarios and the company he keeps, however, to deduce Astarion likely poses no immediate danger to her.

“If people knew everything about me, they may seek to exploit my nature. Or hand me over to others who do.”

“So now you hide out in this library? Are you an archivist because you want to avoid interacting with people? Or to hide that… inner light of yours?”

“Perhaps I just like keeping late hours.” She says with a soft grin. Astarion smiles back at her, enjoying the progress he’s making against her tough exterior. 

“Well my dear, whoever these people are that have driven you to hiding in the shadows, I assure you..” he begins, leaning closer to catch her eye once more and softens his voice, “I would never seek to harm or control you.”

“So what do you want?” Annoyance resurfaces on her face. “My blood? Sex?”

Astarion responds with a snort of laughter.

“Even if that were true, rest assured, you would survive the experience.” A smirk forms on his lips, his eyes still exploring her figure.

Celeste’s jaw tenses. “What a relief.”

He resists the urge to touch her cheek, opting instead to lean closer and murmur almost hypnotically in her ear. “Oh, I would be very gentle with you…” he begins, “the only manipulation you have to fear from me is the kind that would drive you mad with desire…” he purrs. A slight tingle ripples across her skin. She composes herself and brushes it off.

“Cute, but no thanks.”

“Is that so?” Astarion leans in and boldly scans her face as if to challenge her. She squints at him.

“Work on your flirting. It’s a bit…desperate.”

He scowls.

She opens a book, checking a few pages before making space on the shelf for it. “What’s your angle here?”

“Come now, why such mistrust? The offer is tempting, isn’t it? You know, I recently encountered a drow alchemist who practically begged for me to drink her blood. Unfortunately…” his voice trails off, nose wrinkling at the memory, “she wasn’t my type.” 

“In that case, you’re looking in the wrong place. Archivists are more interested in studying fascinating subjects than experimenting with them.” She says to him dryly. “Who do you feed on, anyway? I haven’t noticed any mysterious disappearances in Waterdeep lately. Well, any more than the norm.”

“Animals, mostly. Kobolds, bears…” he says, his voice fading away in thought. “There was a time when I was occasionally gifted a foul rat, but now I have a greater selection to choose from. I have to admit that animals have been my primary source of sustenance since I escaped my former master. I’ve had a generous enemy, now and then. And Gale, once. What?”

“Gale?”

“I don’t recommend it.” Astarion says. “Bad side effects.” Celeste lets out a noise that could almost be mistaken as a suppressed laugh. 

“If you’re a spawn, where is your master? I don’t see him lurking about.”

Astarion’s face becomes rigid. “Cazador Szarr,” he begins gruffly. “is dead. Right before that battle in Baldur’s Gate, Gale and some of my… friends,” he pauses, considering the word, not quite used to it, “... helped me kill him before he could kill me. I’m free of him now, to live as I wish.” 

“How terrible. I’m sorry.” Celeste feels a moment of sympathy for him, as if the revelation explains his behavior. She’d sensed all the grandiosity and flirtation was a front to conceal something deeper.

Astarion shrugs, his face once again displaying its usual glamour. “Let’s not dwell on it.”

“Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.” She suggests. Astarion’s expression turns curious once more. 

“In what ways are we similar?”

“Well, for starters,” she bends and picks up her things from the table. “We both seem to be nocturnal.” Winking at him, she saunters off.

Astarion can’t help smiling to himself.

As she walks under the skylight, the moon’s glow illuminates her hair until she disappears into the library’s basement. After considering what she said, he leaves the library and wanders back to Gale’s tower through the Dock Ward. It’s late, but Gale would still be up.

The Dock Ward was notoriously raucous and its stench of rotting fish isn’t particularly appealing to Astarion, but Gale lived close enough to the edge of the Castle Ward that Astarion had to only tolerate the walk there. The immediate vicinity of the tower itself was more pleasant, only a few blocks from the estate of one of the richest men in Waterdeep.

Moreover, Astarion frequently held the privilege of often being the most dangerous thing lurking in the darkness, anyway. 

Gale’s description of his home as a tower had felt like an exaggeration once Astarion had seen it. It wasn’t a small dwelling, but it certainly wasn’t some grand castle-like structure, either. Though Astarion would never reveal it, he found it quite comfortable. His sunlight aversion and insistence on being alone during the day led to his seclusion in the windowless attic. Regardless, he was grateful he didn’t have to make arrangements on his own elsewhere. 

His and Gale’s fellow traveling companions occupied the other guest rooms. After defeating the Absolute, Astarion and Shadowheart returned to Waterdeep with Gale, having nowhere else to go. Minthara and Karlach had gone to Avernus in search of a way to fix Karlach’s infernal engine, a hellish machine that kept her alive but threatened to make her combust on the mortal plane. When they’d come to Waterdeep, triumphant, the two were quite happy to share a room, a development that none of their party found surprising by the way Minthara doted on Karlach during their travels. Shadowheart had the unfortunate fate of sharing a wall with the two of them, but didn’t complain too often. 

Their other companions had moved on, embarking on fresh beginnings. Last Astarion heard, Wyll was in Baldur’s Gate, helping his father, Duke Ravengard, protect and rebuild the city. Lae’zel was gods know where, but seemed fulfilled carrying out her duties amongst the Githyanki. Jaheira and Minsc stayed behind as well, surrounded by Jaheira’s family and her remaining Harpers. Halsin had taken their animal companions, Scratch and an owlbear cub, back to the Grove, happy to escape the city. Gale’s home had effectively become an orphanage for dysfunctional vagabonds. 

Engrossed in a book by the fire, Gale sits with his tressym, Tara, perched beside him as Astarion enters the den. A pang of envy at his friend’s idyllic, quiet life tugs at Astarion as he lingers in the doorway - something he feels he will never quite have, but all the same, isn’t sure he’d enjoy so much. He frequently finds himself restless in Waterdeep, but doesn’t have a clue where else he could go right now. His newfound freedom still overwhelms him. 

He settles in the chair opposite Gale, gracefully crossing one leg over the other. “I believe I met an acquaintance of yours this evening at the library.” 

Gale looks up at him. “Oh?” Astarion nods.

“Her name was Celeste.” A look crosses Gale’s features that Astarion can’t quite identify. “What?” He inquires with a raised eyebrow.

“I knew her. Long ago. Archivist, yes? Weird eyes?” Gale gestures in a circular motion around his face as he asks the question. Astarion dips his chin. 

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, a lovely girl she was,” Tara says dotingly, leaping to the floor and resettling near the fireplace to groom her paws.

“Your cat has met her? How well did you know her?”

“Tressym, dear.” Tara warns.

“We ran in similar circles as teenagers.” He says, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. Astarion notices his discomfort but doesn’t comment on it.

“She was quite elusive with the details of her life.”

As Gale stands up, “Well, she’s quite cautious. I’m only privy to the deeper details of her…heritage because of my relationship with Mystra.” He peruses a nearby shelf as he speaks. He pulls an old book out and dusts it off, handing it to Astarion, who glances at the spine, looking for its title: The Lost Children of the Moon. 

“She’s a Moonborn.” Gale says, “History’s all there. Are you familiar?” With a flick, Astarion turns a few more pages.

“I thought her kind were just stories, honestly.” Astarion responds, reading a paragraph:

It is said that the Moonborn originated from Selûne during her conflicts with her sister Shar, the mistress of the night. Selûne crafted the Moonborn from her shimmering shards and silver essence, fashioning them into celestial servants of the moon. These beings were bestowed with humanoid forms and tasked with safeguarding life and illuminating the darkness.

The book shows a map of Faerûn, illustrating the potential places of Moonborn settlements, one in Waterdeep near the House of the Moon temple, another near Snowdown. There are a few potential locations marked, loosely cited. 

“Who writes these kinds of volumes?” Astarion asks. “This seems like a rare text.” 

Gale grins. “It is. I’m guessing a Moonborn themselves wrote it long ago. It came into my possession during my time with Mystra, entrusted in my care,” he says proudly. 

“Fucking Mystra, again.” Astarion mutters. Though the goddess had removed the threat of the orb from Gale’s chest that made him a walking time bomb, and Gale had disengaged with her, he still reminisced with a distant fondness, no doubt proud he’d once convened with a goddess.

“Celeste was part of the settlement of Moonborn here in Waterdeep.” Gale muses. “Just over a decade ago, when she was a teenager, the Moonborn suffered a devastating attack by the Sharrans. Her entire family died, and as she tells it, she nearly perished with them, but Selûne intervened. How, I’m not sure.”

“So she’s just been wandering her whole life since then, alone?” Astarion asks.

“Not wandering.” Gale responds. “Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure Jaheira and the Harpers took her in for a little while when Celeste was turned away from an orphanage in Baldur’s Gate because of her age. Either way, she ended up back here. She’s been at the library for years. I don’t think she likes her quiet existence, just rather she’s forced into it. Hard to make friends when you have a big secret to keep. Surely you know something about that.”

Astarion listens to Gale but doesn’t engage, distracted by the book in his hands. “She said she’s nocturnal. Can her kind not live in the sunlight?” 

“They can.” Gale answers. “My understanding is that it’s just not preferable. She always found the daytime draining, as I recall. I’ve only ever seen her in the evening or early morning hours.” 

“Is she immortal then, too?” Astarion asks. 

Gale shrugs. “I’m not sure. Both Moonborn and moon elves have long lifespans, and Moonborn stop aging around 28 years. It’s rare to come across even immortal beings who don’t meet their demise within a few centuries.”

“You seem to know…quite a lot about her.” Astarion comments, closing the book and leaning forward. A hint of blush appears on Gale’s cheeks. 

“Like I said, we…knew one another.”

“Oh?” Amusement tinges Astarion’s voice.  

“Yes.” Gale says, looking at the fire. “We, ah...” his voice tapers off. “Before Mystra, Celeste…was my first.”

“She took your virginity?” Astarion lets out a bark of laughter and Gale shoots him a disapproving look.

“It wasn’t anything special. I had no clue what I was doing. She was…nice about it. We were young. I’d rather not dwell on that detail. I’m sure she’s eager to forget about it herself. Mystra had my entire attention soon after.”

Gale walks to the stove and puts on a kettle of hot water. “Perhaps Celeste and Shadowheart would have something to chat about.” He muses.

“So she’s a survivor of tragedy, a chosen of Selûne,” Astarion grins, “and a crush of yours.”

Gale scoffs. “I think I’ve had my lifetime’s fill of immortal and nearly-immortal women. But what’s this about, Astarion? I’ve never known you to be so intrigued by anyone during our travels together.” Gale regards him suspiciously. “Rather, what’s in this for you?”

“Curiosity.” Astarion waves his hand dismissively.

As Gale retreats to his room, Astarion reverts his attention back to the book.

Throughout history, the Moonborn have dedicated themselves to combating nocturnal evils, including deranged lycanthropes and vampires, striving to uphold the sanctity of light and life.

“Well…fuck.” He mumbles to himself.

When the morning sun appears on the horizon over Waterdeep, beginning to cascade through the curtains, Astarion wearily climbs the stairs to the attic. He eases into a trance, eager for night to fall once again.