Author's Note:
Some background for my head cannon on my BG3 character: She's a high elf named Talia, that was born to a Loviatar worshipping mother and a Bane worshipping father. They conceived Talia in a dark ritual to make the perfect chosen for Loviatar to be the consort of Bane's chosen, like Loviatar is the consort of Bane. But her destined life is interrupted by her maternal aunt. She hears about the ritual and steals baby Talia and raises her in a druid enclave. Though Talia grew up happy and healthy, she never really felt like she belonged there. She finds out the truth of her parents and goes to Baldur's Gate to find them and to join a temple of Loviatar. Once initiated she trains to be a cleric of Loviatar, all the better to serve her lady of pain. She never finds her parents, but she finally feels like she's with people she can be her true self with. She enjoys having little to no control over most things and was utterly horrified at being looked at as a leader on the grand adventure. She relished the way Astarion treats her and exulted in his domination of her after his ascension. She was very happy to be a glorified trophy wife with little to no real power, not everyone wants to be the hero.
I'm apparently and emotional masochist and this is what came out of me during a particularly emotional period. I haven't had one this bad in years and it just happened to coincide with my current obsession with BG3 and Astarion. So, this story was rolling around in my head for three days while I listened to "I Want To Live" lyrical and instrumental on non-stop repeat. In my crazy brain, the beginning of the story has the instrumental version playing in the background and the lyric version playing during the last two sections. Don't know if anyone else will like my overly dramatic angsty nonsense, but here it is. I had a need to get this out of my head in some way. I'm not a writer by any means, so I understand if this makes no sense to anyone else. That being said, if anyone likes this and would like more fluff pieces from this particular universe, I'd be happy to write more of how these two got to this point. But this is their ending, it's meant to be a tragic love story.
Please note that I'm new to D&D lore, so this is my interpretation of how these things work based on minimal googling of these topics and gods. Please keep that in mind, thanks.
You can feel his dark red eyes on your back as you laugh at something the young patriar in front of you is talking about. You turn to flit your eyes at him, his gaze still fixed on you. You give a slow coy smile as you turn back to your ladies and the young man, feigning interest in their conversation.
You're dressed in the style Astarion prefers you in. Lush fabrics and dainty jewelry barely covering your body. Deeply low cut in the front, high slits over the front of both thighs and your back always bare, much like the courtesans you have amongst your ladies. Usually you wear your long wavy red hair down, but tonight you have it gathered up and held with a dazzling hair net, dotted with a thousand shimmering jewels, a few strands of crimson hair dangling down your back and framing your face. He enjoys having your beauty on display, a tantalizing glimpse of what only he gets to touch.
You eventually focus on the young man animatedly describing some oddly gruesome happening in battle. He keeps focusing his attention on you more so than your ladies; just the way he had approached your little menagerie oozed a desire to flirt. His cool blue eyes often linger on you while he speaks. And you smile sweetly at his attention, as is your job as consort. You must help keep the highborn of Baldur's Gate happy. And smiling at their attentions is the easiest way to placate most of them. But some like to try to play a more dangerous game, seems this patriar wishes to try his luck at winning your favor. You quietly muse about how silly he is, he'd be much better suited for one of your ladies. They're all tittering at his attention and you could not be more disinterested.
Suddenly you feel featherlight fingertips brush along your exposed shoulder blades. You try to hide the rush of heat and a lustful need for more. How, after 300 years of being his, he still makes you quiver at the slightest touch is beyond you. You give in and lean back into him. His hand slowly brushing aside a curled tendril of hair from your neck as he whispers into your ear,
"And what has enraptured your attention so, my pet?"
His soft voice in your ear intensifying your desire as you smile and turn your face, nose nuzzling his jawline before you answer him, "Our friend here was just regaling us with his exploits on your latest campaign. He brought glory to your name and cause," You gesture with your hand before bringing it his hand on your shoulder.
"Is that so…" Astarion's deep red eyes flick from you to the young man and back again, "And here I am, interrupting. I'm sure you're very deserving of these ladies' attention, but…" one hand waves vaguely at your ladies as the other slips out from under your hand and slides down to a hip and grips you roughly, "You will have to excuse Talia, I'm in need of my consort."
There's a jealous growl to "my" and you smile, basking in his possessiveness, the heat in you only rising as he leads you away towards the dais. He sits on his throne and beckons you to sit on his lap while the two of you survey the room. His eyes keep going back to the young man, you sense his disgust at the attention paid to you, laughing at his contradictory need to display you and anger at the hungry looks is garners.
"Any particular reason you whisked me away from our guests?"
"…No. I simply desired your attention my pet."
"Astarion, you know I belong only to you. Body and soul." you lean to whisper in his ear softly nuzzling and then gently nibbling at his neck, attempting to assuage the dark mood he's descending into.
He grips you harder at the soft touch of your breath and teeth on his neck, your husky whisper noting your desire for him. You're hungry for him, and you're sure he can sense your growing need for him. Both his hands are on you now slipping under your gown and teasing you. You bury your face in his neck as he softly laughs, you always love the way he smells of the both of you.
"Does my consort tire of the festivities already? Should we retire to our chambers so that I may indulge you?"
"Please…" you gasp and squirm at his teasing touch. Gods, you'd let him have you here and now if he wanted.
"My apologies Master Astarion, but they've arrived." an attendant interrupts your fun.
You feel Astarion tense briefly before moving you gently from his lap, confusion furrowing your brow as you wrack your mind as to who could have arrived that would require his immediate attention, let alone someone that would warrant interrupting the two of you.
"Please see that they're brought to my study, I will be there shortly." Astarion stands and looks down at your questioning face, "Do not fret my love, I simply have some urgent business to attend to. I'll be back to finish what we started." He squeezes you close and nips your neck before heading to the back of the grand hall.
You look over to where the attendant ran off to and see an imposing man dressed in dark luxurious velvet and damask. A hauntingly lovely woman with her hand on his arm, long ashy blonde hair spilling down her back over a matching dark gown, dark metal details studded over the bodice front. A strange sense of familiarity washes over you as you look at her. It's not unusual for him to keep his own counsel in matters of state and war, you never had an interest and he enjoyed telling you only his favorite news or confiding in you when something was troubling him. So, you can only assume this is something he need not tell you, or he will when the matter is concluded. You walk back into the party and continue your rounds of entertaining the patriars and various other people of note. The night passes slowly into dawn before you retire to your chambers. You see Astarion is yet to conclude his business and you climb into the empty bed.
You go walking about the gardens, smiling up at the warm sun as you contemplate what penance is due to your Lady of Pain. Sometime has passed since you gave Her proper libations and you were unsure of what would be most pleasing to her. Perhaps Astarion could be persuaded to help you, he does so enjoy participating from time to time. Afterall, that was the first secret of yours he learned at the goblin camp, all those long years ago. You lose yourself, reminicing, when you hear someone speaking to you.
"Please excuse the intrusion Mistress, but the Master would like you to come to his study." The meek young lady that serves as your attendant, Maya, is bent over in a deep curtsy before you.
You're not the one the servants fear displeasing and Maya seems frightened, shaking. Astarion usually uses your gentler touch to handle the servants and visiting dignitaries. Maya's trepidation must be coming from him, he must be in an impatient mood to spook her.
"Of course, I'll be there presently." You turn to walk towards the palace but stop, "Does he require me to sit in state with him or does he just need me for something unofficial?" You're not dressed for official state affairs but are unsure if Astarion would be willing to wait for you to change.
"I believe it is unofficial my lady." Maya straitens up and approaches you, fussing at your gown and hair, ensuring you're somewhat presentable.
You knock before entering the study to see Astarion standing over his desk, his own attendant standing to one side behind him, they both look up as you enter. Astarion smiles and waves his hand at the attendant, dismissing him. You step to the side and let him pass, the door closing heavily behind you.
"Come my darling, I have a surprise for you," He beckons to you and you walk up to his side, he moves to stand behind you and looks over your shoulder at the map spread over the desk, "our latest territorial conquest has somewhere I think you'd be most interested in visiting." He points at a dark forest with what looks like a fortress built in the middle of it.
"And what is this place?"
"I wish to keep it a secret until we go. We leave in a few days' time." He smiles against your neck and breaths you in.
"As you wish. But before that, I have something to ask of you." You turn to face him, trapped between the desk and his body, your hands sliding up his arms, "I must serve penance to my goddess, would you indulge me?" You nuzzle his neck and lean back.
"Always," There's a wicked smile spread over his lips as he acquiesces to your request.
His eyes look at you hungrily as one of his hands reaches up and grabs a fistful of hair, pulling your head back and to one side. You feel tears sting your eyes at the sudden pain, your body responding to his fierce desire to make you hurt. His lips brush against your neck before you feel the sweet sharpness of his teeth sinking into your soft skin. You cry out as he begins to devour you, your back arches, pressing you into him. He rips away from you, a bloody smile as you feel your blood drip down your neck, a throbbing pulse of pain at your neck and of desire in your core. He turns you around and bends you over the desk, lifting your gown up over your hips, the sharp edge of the desk digging painfully into the tops of your thighs. You feel his hands grip your hips, then one hand leaves before slamming back down. A loud smacking sound as he slaps your ass. You feel the sting radiating heat as another impact comes, your body shudders as he continues to abuse the same spot. Every time he makes contact you feel your lust grow with your pain, soon you feel your wetness begin to drip down your inner thighs as his hand smooths over the tender spot on your backside.
"Does your goddess require more punishment of you, my sweet?" Astarion growls into your ear, you can feel his hardness pushing at your entrance.
"Yes," You whimper as you feel him slide into your wetness.
He grips your hips harshly, his preternatural strength bruising you instantly, as he begins to slam into you. It's a painful pace and you relish it. His fingers digging into your hips, the bite of the wood on your legs with every slam of his hips, drives you closer and closer to your climax. But ever the tease, Astarion feels you getting closer, and he releases you while pulling away, you moan at the sudden loss of his rough fucking.
"Not yet, pet." He growls as he turns you around to face him.
He lifts you up onto the desk, laying you back and pining your legs to either side of you. Your bottom barely on the desk, your back arching painfully as he slams back into you, the sweet extasy found in physical agony washing over you as he relentlessly pounds into you. Every heavy impact of him into you brings you closer. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his silver hair as you try to hold on, just a little longer before your little death comes. But come it does, and you feel yourself end, quivering and pulsing around him as he quickly follows you into oblivion.
He leans into your neck, biting into the same spot, taking just a little bit more of you before straightening up, still buried in you. He caresses your legs, lifting one to place a soft kiss, smiling down at his treasure. You feel the warm familiar blessing of Loviatar as Astarion pulls out of you. Your goddess and yourself satisfied with your pain.
You look up at his face, still a bloody mess as you hold a hand to your fresh bite marks, a soft glow emanating from your fingers as you close the wounds. "We should probably clean you up a bit my love," You cup his face in your hand and he nuzzles into it.
"Then we should probably clean you up too," He looks down the front of your body and you see just how much you had bled down yourself, "Shall we retire to the baths?" He whispers and bends down to lick at the sticky red mess.
You giggle and wrap your arms around him as he effortlessly lifts you up and carries out of his study. You rest your cheek on the soft velvet of his coat and breath in his sent, a comforting mix of his favorite bergamot and your lily oil.
The traveling hadn't been too terrible as you had a ridiculous carriage to carry the two of you in comfort. And lodging in the country estates of nobles whenever necessary was wonderfully comfortable. But you were going to be camping for the final night, a flood of memories from a life long since passed float around in your head as you lay on a mountain of pillows in an extravagant tent. Astarion is speaking with some servant, handling all the details such a journey entail, but soon enough he finishes his business and dismisses everyone from your tent.
Astarion stands in silence for a minute seemingly lost in thought before he comes over to you and pushes you down into the pillows. He begins to kiss you passionately. Hungrily. You're unsure as to what brought on this sudden need for you, but you're only too happy to comply. Your own hunger for him rises to the occasion and you give in to his desirous touch. He takes you sweetly for the first time in a long while. He rolls so you're riding him and he lets you take it slow. Your hips rolling, your hands on his chest and his hands gripping your hips. It's beautiful and slow and wonderful and you find oblivion with him, collapsing onto his chest and just breathing him in.
But once doesn't seem to be enough for him. Again, he takes you, consumes you. His need to have you over and over again is intoxicating. Every fiber of your being is aflame and still you feel yourself give in to his unrelenting embraces. As soon as one little death comes to an end, he hungrily takes you again. Your mind is a white-hot star exploding, your body a quivering mess. And still, he takes more of you. Never has he been so insatiable, but you find yourself unable to stop, every time he reaches for you, you find that you're reaching for him as well. It hurts to take him, but it's the sweetest pain you've ever known with him. An unending hunger for more despite your body feeling like it's going to shatter.
You see the sun lighting up the fabric of the tent and still the two of you are locked in each other's arms, still tasting each other. It's not until dawn has passed into morning does he seem to abate and simply hold you in his arms. The sun streams in through an open flap of the tent and bathes you in its light, your hair glowing like fire as you turn to look into his crimson eyes. He seems far away; lost in thought. You wonder if it has to do with the surprise but keep silent, wishing this quiet moment could last forever.
Astarion is the first to break the silence, he breathes into your ear "Come darling. We must ready ourselves."
He walks over to a large trunk and lifts something out of his before walking back over to you. You stand, letting the sun warm your naked body as he presents you with an exceedingly beautiful gown. Deep dark green velvet with golden embroidered vines and leaves, of course fashioned into his favorite style.
"It's lovely!" you exclaim as you reach out to feel the softness, "Thank you my love," you plant a kiss on his cheek and take the gown to put it on, when he then drapes a delicate golden lock and chain over your hips, a cute little smirk playing on his lips.
You stand back from him, allowing him to admire his gift on you. The colors compliment your red hair, golden freckled skin and mismatched eyes. You smile and sit, watching his silver hair turn golden in the sunlight, waiting for him to get dressed before you both leave the tent. The rest of the camp busies itself as you walk through to the edge of camp, there Astarion takes your hand before leading you into the dark forest.
You're unsure how long you walk, but you enjoy the sounds of the forest as you journey to your surprise. Eventually you reach a crumbling ruin, what looks to be a long-forgotten temple to a nameless god. He walks in silence, holding your hand guiding you ever deeper. Slowly the quiet becomes eerie. You're afraid to break the silence, something sets you on edge but you can't quite place what. Usually when Astarion presents you with a gift of any kind, he's impatient to see how you'll react, but not now.
You approach what you can only assume to be an altar atop a small grad stair. A woman, tall and fair with long pale hair stands close to the back wall. You feel a presence as you move closer to her. Something divine, something familiar, like you've seen her somewhere. She turns and looks into your eyes and you see, it's your goddess, Loviatar.
"My lady!" You exclaim, dropping into a deep curtsy, Astario's hand still clasped in yours.
"I see you've brought me my chosen…" her voice is like ice, cold and severe and terrible to be heard.
You look up from your curtsy and gaze at your patron goddess only to see she isn't looking at you but at him. Holding his gaze, a sharp smile forming on her wan features.
"Yes. As promised…" his voice sounds far away and he trails off, not saying something, but Loviatar understands him all the same.
"He's through there." She gestures at the wall behind her as it starts to slide open revealing a small darkened room with an imposing shadow looming by a table with a single candle burning.
Astarion releases your hand and begins to walk towards the doorway. You react too slowly and you feel his fingers slipping out of your hand as you try to squeeze it closed.
"Astarion… what's going on?" He doesn't respond "Astarion!" You plead, louder as he continues to walk away from you. You reach out to grab hold of him but you can't move. You look down and see a soft glow on the floor around you. Terrifyingly familiar as you realize what it is, "…Nightsong…" you whisper in dread as you look up at his receding figure, "ASTARION!" Your scream rips your throat as you try to fight the hold the glyphs have on you, your vision blurring with unshed tears.
He doesn't even turn around to look at you as the stone wall slides back into place. Your mind races as you try to make sense of what's happening, but you can't. Cold, hard hands caress your face, pulling you back to what's happening. Your eyes slide up to hers as she smiles down at you. Your face crumples as you feel the tears pour down your cheeks and you choke on your sobs.
"My lovely little chosen of eternal pain. How I've waited for you." You hear Loviatar whisper in pleasure.
You try to push her away as you scream for Astarion, again and again. You feel your voice cracking and breaking with each successive scream. Your body shakes and you can hardly suck in air to your lungs to scream again. All the while she watches you with gleaming eyes alight with icy fire as she drinks in your anguish, never releasing her hold on your face.
"He can't hear you… No one can." Her breath stirs the hair at your ear as she speaks to you.
You stop screaming, the pain in your heart too much to take. You double over and the sound you make doesn't sound like your voice. It's something primal, desperate, broken. You grip your hair and pull, you dig your nails into your skin and rake them your face, hoping desperately to make some other pain drown out the anguish of being abandoned by him. And yet you feel none of it, you only feel her laughing as your heart and soul shatter. You look down at your hands and see no blood, only your perfect unmarred flesh. You look at her through a veil of your hair and see her ravenous smile. Your mind slowly comes to understand what's happening. How naïve you had been to think you had given your goddess what she wanted from you. But that wasn't your fate as her destined chosen, that wasn't what was promised to her. You were meant to suffer more than anyone had or ever would again. You were meant to spend your life in anguish, that's what was promised to her. But that was before you were immortal. Before it would have only been a couple hundred years, not eternity. You foolishly thought that simply spending eternity worshipping her as you always had would be enough. You would always feel her pleasure when you made your offerings to her, but you were mistaken. Loviatar was biding her time until this moment, and soon enough she confirms your fears.
"Your eternal anguish is the ultimate libation paid to me as your goddess." She stands tall before you, "I will relish the pain of my immortal chosen's eternally breaking heart and sundering soul." She reaches out and sweeps your hair from your face, "The greatest of agony any of my worshipers has ever given me. Or ever will…" Her laughter fills your ears as you sink to your knees before collapsing on to the cold stone floor and stare unblinking into a vast nothingness.
Your mind slowly fills with Astarion. Every memory, every feeling, every moment, everything in your long life that Astarion touched comes flooding through you. Every sweet caress, every sharp word, every moment of passion, pain and pleasure all twisting to this moment. The glorious last night you spent trapped in his embrace, the bliss of it melting into this betrayal, his abandonment. Your mind breaking as you desperately grasp onto the promises he made when he transformed you into what you are. He loves you, he said he always would... Lovers forever... Until the world falls down…
Many years later. (500 or so)
Astarion stands before the glowing circle on stone floor. The glyphs undulating beneath her body. She looks the same as the day he left her there. Crimson hair spread like a pool of blood beneath her. Dark green velvet gown, delightfully revealing, barley covering his precious treasure. He could almost reach out and touch her, but can't. He stares at her eternal beauty until he feels that chilly presence again.
"Come for a visit, have you?" Her hauntingly beautiful voice breaks the silence.
"I've come to bargain."
"Bargain?!" She barks out in laughter, "Bargain for what? Her?" Her icy pale fingers sweep across the back of his neck as she whispers into his ear, "No."
"Name your price. There's nothing in this world I cannot give you,"
"You cannot give back what has already come to pass. 500 years of conquest, ruling over everything. The whole worlds is now yours, and yours alone. THAT, you can't give back."
"…Please…" a word he hadn't uttered since he gave Talia up. The ascendant vampire lord feeling something he hadn't thought possible, regret.
"Oh, sweetling. You thought it was just her pain I was going to be given in that little bargain of yours?" She nuzzles into his neck, breathing in his discomfort. "No, no, no. I also get your eternal remorse." She moves to stand before him on the other side of his silent love and holds his stare. "You had everything your kind has ever wanted. Everything they've spent millennia striving for and you threw it all away." She smiles glancing down at her prize, "You performed the profane ritual. Stealing it away from Cazador. Taking his place as the most powerful vampire ever!" Her eyes slide back up to his, "You made a perfect vampire bride. Something even the ancient Strahd has never been able to accomplish. And you did it on accident. It only worked because it was with her!" She laughs maniacally, "What was needed for that little trick was the power of a truly ancient vampire, which your ascension granted you, and the truest of love from a mortal who knew you before such power was in you. A contradiction in possibility that you somehow found a loophole for. The sheer dumb luck of it all is too delicious to not revel in." She pauses to laugh at his disbeleif, "How shortsighted you were. I suppose you weren't given the education necessary to be a patient all powerful immortal, like your previous master had. And so, because of your own fledgling impatience you gave it all up!" Her laughter somehow grows colder and harsher as she kneels down to smooth Talia's hair back from her face revealing the frozen look of anguish on her perfect features.
Astarion stares at the women before him. Silent and still, Loviatar's voice breaking the silence,
"Did you know you didn't need my lord Bane to get what you wanted?" She lowers her face to Talia's and nuzzles her cheek, "If you had only waited another hundred years or so, you would have achieved it… with her help." Loviatar smooths Talia's hair as she settles down behind her, "She was the silken glove to your mailed fist. The soft power of winning over the cattle. There was never a revolt, uprising or revolution attempt while she sat beside you. She delighted the masses and knew how to handle the highborn and powerful. She was even talented in dealing with foreign dignitaries and ambassadors. She was the secret to your whole world…" She reaches up and brings him down to his knees, into the glowing circle and puts his hand on Talia's face where he can feel her ever flowing tears, "And you threw her away…" She throws his hand away and out of the prison's glow. Loviatar stands up to her full height, gliding over to stand between Astarion and Talia. "Thank you, for my eternal chosen. For without you, she would have escaped this fate centuries ago."
Loviatar fades away, leaving Astarion alone, lost in thoughts about how he had gotten here. The god Bane had once spoken to him, long ago when they had defeated Gortash. Astarion's lust for power had always been with him, even before his ascension. But no matter how much he got he wanted more. And the tyrant god himself, Bane, knew it. So, the trap had been laid, a tempting voice only Astarion could hear, calling to his desire for more and a promise to deliver. Bane had been patient, waiting for a time when Astarion's campaigns has slowed, winning was becoming more difficult, time consuming, and Astarion was not a patient vampire. Talia had spoiled him, granting him everything he wanted when he wanted it. Since the moment he met her, she gave him everything he wanted, sometimes before he even had to ask...
The first time he ever held her was with a knife to her throat as he threatened to kill her, demanding answers and she just calmly gave him all the info she had and even invited him to join her and the other cleric to try and fix the whole thing. When he was starving and needed blood, attempting to take it from her by force, she didn't try to kill him, or even push him away. She simply turned her head, presented her throat and told him he had only ever needed to ask. She even smiled at him, something sweet and understanding. They ran into a monster hunter looking for him, she almost stabbed the old man before Astarion could. He needed to find out what his scars were, she told him everything she could, even drawing it out for him so they could both try to study the infernal markings. When he wanted a deal with a devil, she helped him kill an orthon to get what he needed. When he asked for her help in taking Cazador's place in the ritual, she cast hold on Cazador and gave him her eyes to see what he needed. When he asked her to become his thrall for all eternity, she jumped into his arm sand whispered "I'm yours. Body and soul. For all of eternity."
Astarion looks down at Talia's sad, lovely face. He doesn't move. Either from not wanting to leave or simply being unable to walk away from his sacrifice on the altar or love's loss.
The End