Sanguine || Astarion x Reader

Loving Him

In which you realize that you're not too different from the Selûnites you've befriended at Last Light.

Or, you speak with Isobel about her love for Dame Aylin, and you see that her descriptions of love and yearning are not all too different from what you feel for Astarion.

.

.

.

.

Finally, finally, after three more days of walking through Rivington, you finally reach the Gate.

You immediately race for the Elfsong Tavern with hopes to rent a couple rooms for your party to finally be able to sleep on beds. Months of sleeping on the hard dirt with only the thin cushioning of your bedroll has driven you mad more times than you could count.

The innkeeper informs you that there was an active crime scene on the second floor of the tavern, but you didn't give a single fuck. A bed is a bed, regardless if it had stains of blood on it.

Astarion slides himself beside you as you continue talking with the innkeeper. He listens with an air of nonchalance, his pointy ears occasionally twitching if he hears anything of value.

"Well," your beloved suddenly speaks. "If we're helping you get patrons by staying in the upper floor, shouldn't we get a cut from your earnings?"

"We can settle for a discount?" You add.

The innkeeper relents and hands you the keys for the rooms in the upper floor.

Astarion swore that tears started prickling in his eyes upon the sight of fresh sheets and solid walls. After months of roughing it on the ground, he could finally have some reprieve before inevitably facing Cazador.

"Dibs on the window bed!" You hear Karlach exclaim behind you before running past you to faceplant on the bed she claimed.

"Dibs on— well— the darkest corner of the room." Astarion pompously comments, strutting towards the bed in the far corner of the room with a partition secluding it from the rest of the massive room.

The rest of the party went and claimed their own beds for the duration of your stay at the Elfsong Tavern.

You chose a bed by the wall, secluded as well by a partition, though not as dark a corner as Astarion's. Honestly, you don't even know why you bothered with claiming a bed, knowing that you'll probably spend most— if not all— of your time in Astarion's bed.

Dame Aylin and Isobel— your new Selûnite friends from the Shadow-Cursed Lands also claimed a spot of their own, situated far from your other companions near a window overlooking Sorcerer Sundries.

Aylin insisted that their sleeping area must have a window near, so that her darling Isobel would always have fresh air as she slumbered.

It's cute, you think, how deeply these two women care for each other.

You wonder briefly if you and Astarion ever seem that devoted to each other to your other companions. You sigh wistfully at the thought, hoping that you actually do.

"Ah! Dear friend! Isobel and I are most thankful for allowing us to accompany you on your journey!" The aasimar greets you as you approach them both.

"The pleasure is all ours, I assure you." You grinned, bowing quite dramatically. You can't help it. Your blood calls to you to be theatrical at all times.

It's a bard thing, they wouldn't get it.

"Seriously, thank you for allowing us to stay with you," Isobel reiterates. "It's been... quite some time since Aylin and I had the chance to spend time together."