No. 2
Heute teile ich eine kleine Drabblesammlung mit euch. Die Drabbles sind aus Astarions Perspektive und handeln davon, wie sich seine Einstellung zu Tav im Verlauf der ersten beiden Akte des Spiels langsam ändert. Praktisch kleine Momentaufnahmen, weil ich diese als Drabblesammlungen wirklich sehr gerne mag.
Falling
“I really do not mean any harm.” Those words were enough to convince Astarion that this man was an idiot. Who else would say something like that with a knife to their throat? Yet, in the same moment there was something happening to him. A flash. Pictures in his mind. His city. Baldur’s Gate. People he didn’t know. But then it was just gone.
“What was that?”
“The mind flayers,” the man said. “They… They put something into our heads. Tadpoles. We will become like them, if we don’t do anything about it.”
Astarion looked at him. He wasn’t lying.
The man, who had introduced himself as Tav, was a dim one. That much was clear. Despite their rather desperate situation, he was humming to himself as they set up camp. As if there was not a worry in the world. ‘Ignorance is a bliss.’ Astarion had heard that saying quite often, but he had never understood it until now. But yes, this man was ignorant and somehow it allowed him to so relaxed, while they all were looking forward to a rather grim end. A grim end, Astarion would rather not look forward to. Something, he had to escape.
“Let me heal you.” Those were the man’s words, as he came over to him. Worry showing in his eyes.
“Don’t you dare,” Astarion hissed, trying to move away, yet stumbling as his injured leg gave out under him. Stupid, fucking goblins. Somehow the tadpole was messing with his regeneration it seemed.
Once more the man hummed. He was a bard after all, summoning the magic with music. Astarion already braced himself against the pain of radiance, but instead… nothing. The wound was slowly closing up, as the man smiled at him.
“See?” He let go. “It’s all better now.”
A heartbeat. A strong heartbeat. Astarion could feel it with every sip he took from Tav. It was intoxicating, different from drinking from an animal. He could almost get lost in it, as the sweet and weirdly tangy blood seeped into his mouth. The accelerating heartbeat was so real, it almost felt as if it was his own. Then the man gently pressed against his shoulder.
“Hey. Hey,” he whispered. “That’s enough.” Another gentle push. “I don’t think I would survive anymore.”
It took some self-control to pull himself away from the man, but Astarion managed somehow. “Of course, darling.”
Astarion was trying to come up with a plan. He was free. For now he was free. Unless he sprouted tentacles, that was. He knew though, that his freedom would only last until Cazador found him, which meant he needed some protection. Protection and a plan. Because maybe, just maybe, this might allow him to finally be free. Kill Cazador. Kill him once and for all.
He wasn’t naïve. He knew he could not do it alone. He needed a protector. And for some asinine reason everyone seemed to listen to the dumb bard. Well, maybe it made it easier…
Watching Tav, Astarion could not help but wonder, whether the man really did not understand the possible lethality of their situation. Completely ignorant of the possibility of someone attacking them – or the annoyed gazes that Shar cleric was shooting him – the man was swimming in the river. Completely naked, while Astarion tried to make sense of that body. The man had scars other than the one in his face. And more notably, he had not quite the biological equipment that Astarion would have expected given that full red beard. Still, he would say nothing about it. He needed an ally.
“That’s a pity,” Tav muttered. “Because you are pretty to look at.”
Astarion had noticed that the man was quite flirtatious, but he was a bard after all. Good for Astarion, at least he hoped. “Oh, please. Tell me more about it.” He shot Tav a winning smile.
“Hmm. I like your eyes. There is something in them…”
“Please no poetic metaphors.”
“Alright, alright.” The man was chuckling at this. For a moment Astarion almost expected him to touch his face, but in the end he didn’t. “I still like them, though. You do have beautiful eyes.” He smiled gently.
Tav was sitting at the back of the druid grove next to that tiefling bard, singing with her. It seemed to help her, though Astarion did not quite get why that would concern them in any way or form. They had things to do – and a city to return to.
He could not help but wonder, what the man’s big plan was. Because nobody just went around helping everyone expecting nothing. Quite literally, given that so much the man had turned down so many rewards. It was so clear, that Tav was an idiot after all. A lucky idiot though.
It had been almost too easy to seduce the man in the end. Again, what had Astarion expected from a bard? A very silly bard, who had even offered up his neck during the act – not that it had changed much. Now the man was just sleeping there on the forest floor, once more seeming as if he had no care in the world. What a bloody idiot. And just like an idiot he had just fallen asleep here. Next to Astarion. Snoring happily, moving just a bit in his sleep. In a way, Astarion was jealous of this carelessness.
“Astarion. Astarion.” The voice pulled him from his nightmare, from the hold of his master. As he woke, he looked into the worried eyes of Tav hovering over him, hands on his shoulders. A touch, that Astarion could not bear.
He hissed, quickly skuttling away from the man.
What confused him most was the reaction the man gave. He lifted his hands, showing his palms. “It’s alright. Whatever it was… It can no longer touch you.”
“Only that he can,” Astarion muttered.
Worst of all it seemed, that the bard understood it. “Cazador?”
Astarion just nodded, still seeing his master.
It was not as if it was easy to understand the man. Astarion knew that Tav had been sleeping with Lae’zel a couple of times as well. Ironic, given that out of their little group of assorted misfits Astarion and her were probably the least like that wanna-be hero. But maybe he should rather think about why it was them sleeping with him. Well, Astarion knew why he was doing it, but her? He had to wonder. He just hoped she would not get into his way. Because he needed Tav’s loyalty. That was the one thing he cared about.
Tav was a strange man. He was a strange man indeed. Standing there, talking to a fucking mindflayer as if there was nothing at all disconcerting about that situation. But then again, he had also been the person who learned Astarion was a vampire and reacted by offering up his veins. A strange man. A stupid man. And yet, Astarion could not help but note that he liked that smile on the bard’s lips, while he was talking to that mindflayer. Tav had such a kind smile. A warm smile. The kind of smile that made one feel warm inside.
“How are you holding up?” With those words Tav sat down next to Astarion.
“Oh, I am just perfect, darling.” Astarion could not help but deflect as they were sitting here in this dark and cursed lands. “I mean, this is just perfect for my kind. A land cast in eternal shadow. Lovely, isn’t it?”
The truth was he hated it. He had enjoyed the sun so much, as he had been standing in it.
Tav sighed, but looked at him. “We will get rid of those shadows. Somehow. And then… you will see. I bet this place is beautiful.”
The atmosphere in camp was quite different, ever since they had come across these cursed lands. There was an ominous sense haunting all them. Those shadows – it was as if they were haunting them even within the comparative safety they had, as long as they stayed close to the fire.
Tav, though? Tav had started to sing each and every evening as they were in camp. He had a beautiful voice – though maybe that should be expected. Once again Astarion found himself getting lost in that voice, in the words of the song, in the melody. Just for a moment.
“You cannot sleep, can you?” Tav asked, as he sat down next to Astarion.
“Just so you know, I do not actually need to sleep. Not as an elf, not as a vampire for that matter.”
“I think you do.” Tav shrugged, looking at him. “Sleep just helps us… deal with things, you know? Like your mind can just come to terms with shit, when you sleep and such.”
“With shit, eh?” Astarion looked out into the shadows.
“With the bad things.” Tav paused for a moment. “And I understand there was a lot of bad stuff in your life.”
It seemed Astarion’s plan was working. Oh, it had not evaded his attention that Tav had tried to stay between Astarion and Raphael throughout their short encounter. A protector. A dumb, but courageous protector, who was so clearly willing to risk his own life and soul for Astarion. Who was willing to go against a possible devil just so Astarion could finally find out what exactly Cazador had done to him. It was the first step on his path to revenge.
Yes, Astarion’s plan was working quite well. So why was it, that somehow, he felt actually bad about this?
“You should eat, too,” Tav said, offering him a bowl of the stew that Gale had cooked them.
“I do not need to eat. It has no nourishment for me. So…” Astarion sighed. “You opening your veins is more than enough.”
“But it is warm. And the shadows are cold. You might need the warmth.”
Astarion wanted to object that he also could not freeze to death, but as he looked at the man and saw him smile, he just could not. Instead, without consciously deciding on it, he found himself returning that smile. An honest smile, just this once.
The bard should not be strong. He should not be. He was just a bard. Yet, it seemed as if he had a sixth or maybe seventh sense, almost predicting the cambion’s moves. While the demon hid himself with invisibility, it seemed just that Tav just knew where he would go, casting his spells accordingly. He was strong, wasn’t he? And in the end, he was doing this for him, right? For Astarion. He was risking his life – all of their lives – just for him. Oh, that silly bard. That silly, silly bard. Yet, Astarion could not help this feeling…
A hug. Not a kiss. Not anything more. Just a hug. That was the man’s reply to it all. It should not be special – Astarion had seen him hug other people before. And yet… He had not been hugged like that in… In truth he did not know how long. To understand this. To find he was not rejected.
Falling… Darn it all. He really was falling for this man, wasn’t he? Tav. That dumb, dumb bard, who still… Who still was the first person in centuries to actually care about Astarion. The first person to hug him like this.
Lying there, his head on the bard’s lap… It was weirdly comforting. Listening to the man sing was, too. Tav was singing, while his right hand was gently caressing Astarion’s hair. There was a certain peacefulness to it. They were two or maybe three days out from Baldur’s Gate now. Sooner or later, he would face Cazador again, and then… He sighed. But maybe it was going to be alright. Maybe, finally, they really were strong enough to face him. Just maybe… Maybe Astarion could finally be free – maybe he could have a life of his own. Cared for. Loved.