Rewrite complete. Hopefully now it will make sense with the rest of the chapters.
3/5/24: Fixed a few typos and some oddly worded things that were bugging me.
1.
You feel his dark red eyes on your back as you laugh at something the young patriar before you says. You turn, flitting your eyes at him, his gaze still fixed on you. You give a slow coy smile, turning back to your coterie of ladies and the young man, feigning interest in what's being said, waiting for your lover to come for you.
You're dressed in the style you both prefer; delicate jewelry, luxurious fabrics, all barely covering your body. Like the gowns you wore as a Paramour, deeply low cut in front, high slits over both thighs and your back always bare. Even now, your ladies are made up of Paramours from The Chateau and the young daughters of great houses, all dressed similarly, but never as revealing as you. Astarion enjoys having your beauty on display, a tantalizing glimpse of what only he gets to touch.
Usually, you wear your long wavy hair down, but tonight you wear it up, gathered into a net dotted with hundreds of sparkling gems, a few tendrils of crimson curls left to dangle down your back and framing your face. You sweep one back, focusing on the young man; he's describing some oddly gruesome event in the last battle he was in. He keeps his attention on you more so than your ladies, just the way he had approached your little menagerie oozed a desire flirt. His cool blue eyes linger on you as he speaks. You smiley indulgently, as is your duty as consort, keeping the highborn, the wealthy, and the powerful of the world happy is your contribution to Astarion's ambitions. Smiling at their attentions is always the easiest way to placate most of them, but some like to try their hand at a more dangerous game, and it seems this patriar wishes to try his luck at winning your favor. You continue to smile, never faltering as you muse about how silly this boy is, he'd be much better suited to one of your ladies, they're all tittering at his attention while you could not be more disinterested.
Feather light fingertips brush along your exposed shoulder blades, and you hide the shiver it sends down your spine, a lustful need for more. You marvel at how after 300 years of being his, his slightest touch still makes you tremble. How could anyone be so fortunate as you to be loved by him? You lean back into him, his hand brushing aside a tendril of hair 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 to nuzzle his jaw before answering,
"Our friend here was just regaling us of his exploits on your latest campaign. He brought glory to your name and victory to your cause," You gesture at the boy with a gentle wave of your hand before laying it on his as he holds your shoulder.
"Is that so…" Astarion's deep red eyes flick from you to the young man then back again, "And here I am, interrupting. I'm sure you're very deserving of these ladies' attention, but…" One hand gestures vaguely at your ladies as the other slips out from under yours, sliding down to your hip, griping you roughly, "You will have to excuse Talia, I'm in need of my consort." There's a jealous growl in his voice and you bask in his possessiveness, the heat in you rising.
He leads you back to the dais, sitting on his throne, beckoning you to sit on his lap so the two of you may survey the room. His eyes keep drifting back to the young man, you sense his disgust at the attention paid to you, laughing internally at his contradictory need to display you and his anger at the hungry looks it garners.
"Any particular reason you whisked me away from our guests?"
"…No. I simply desired your attention, my pet."
"Astarion," You giggle softly, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "You know I belong only to you." Then you softly place your lips on his pulse, kissing him, attempting to assuage the dark mood he's descending into.
He grips harder at the gentle touch of your cool lips on his warm skin, your husky whisper noting your desire for him. You're ravenous for his touch, and you're certain he can sense your growing need for him. Both his hands are on you now, slipping under your gown, teasing you… You bury your face in his neck, breathing heavily, loving the way he always smells of you both, and he chuckles,
"Does my consort grow weary of the festivities already? Should we retire to our chambers so that I may indulge you?"
"Please…" You gasp and squirm at his amorous touch. Gods, you'd let him have you here and now if he wanted.
"My apologies your Grace, but they've arrived," An attendant interrupts your fun.
Astarion's body tenses briefly before gently removing you from his lap, confusion furrowing your brow as you try to think of who could have arrived that would require his immediate attention, let alone warrant interrupting the two of you.
"See that they're brought to my study and made comfortable, I will be there shortly," Astarion stands, looking 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, bending to bring his lips your neck, his fangs teasing their mark, where your pulse once thrummed, and then he pulls back and walks away, leaving you bereft of his company.
Your gaze drifts over to where the attendant ran off to and there you see an imposing behemoth of a man, dressed richly in dark velvet and damask, a hauntingly lovely woman, almost as tall as him, with ashen blonde hair cascading down her back, a gown of matching dark opulence draped over her thin figure. A strange sense of familiarity washes over you as you look upon the strangers. Though it's not unusual for Astarion to keep his own counsel in matters of state and war, only involving when prudent, he will tell you his favorite bits of news or confide in you when something is troubling him. But, he's said nothing of these visitors… You shrug, assuming he will tell you when it's worth telling you.
You walk back out into the ball, continuing to entertain your guests; the night passes slowly into dawn before you finally retire to your chambers. Astarion is yet to conclude his business and so you climb into a cold empty bed and close your eyes.
2.
You walk through the gardens, enjoying the sun warming your face, contemplating what penance is due your Maiden of Pain; sometime has passed since you last prayed and She is owed proper libations, but you're unsure what would please her most… Perhaps a visit to the grand temple you've built in the city; you could use it as an excuse to visit Ana, your best friend, more a sister than anything, and now the Truescar of your temple, and Madam of The Chateau. She would be delighted to serve you your penance as she had when you were both Paramours. Or maybe Astarion could be persuaded to help you, he does so enjoy participating from time to time. After all, your destiny as Loviatar's Chosen and he as Bane's is why the two of you fell in love all those long years ago. You lose yourself, reminiscing on those tumultuous days when you hear someone speaking to you,
"Please excuse the intrusion Mistress, but the Master has summoned you." The meek young lady that serves as your attendant, Maya, is bent down in a deep curtsy, her voice wavering slightly.
You're not the one the servants fear displeasing, and Maya seems frightened, she's shaking. Astarion usually uses your gentler touch to handle the servants; 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 personal?" You're not dressed for state affairs but are unsure if Astarion would be willing to wait for you to change.
"I believe it is something personal, my Lady. He's in his study." Maya straitens up and approaches you, fussing at your gown and hair, ensuring you're somewhat presentable.
Maya follows you to his study and waits for the guards to announce you before opening the door. Astarion stands, hovering over his desk, his own attendant standing to one side, they both look up as you enter. He smiles, waving his hand at the attendant, dismissing him; he waits for the man to leave, closing the heavy door behind you before speaking,
"Come my darling, I have a surprise for you," He holds his arm out and steps back from his desk, beckoning you to stand between him and 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, your eyes looking over the map and recognizing a place written on the other side of the forest.
"Dambrath?!" Excitement fills your voice as you turn to him, "We'd be close to Dambrath?"
"Yes, why?"
"It's the home of my goddess' worship. Could we go there as well? Please, my love?"
"As my love wishes."
"Thank you! Thank you!" You quickly kiss his smiling lips, "I must ask Ana if she would like a gift from there!" He shakes his head, leaning down to kiss you again but you turn way before he can, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, "And, I have one more thing to ask of you…" He glowers down at your impertinence, waiting for you to continue, "I must serve penance to my Maiden…" your hands slide up his arms, resting softly on his shoulders as you lean back, "Would you indulge me?"
"Always." A wicked smirk spreads over his lips as he reaches up, tangling his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back and to one side.
Tears sting your eyes at the sudden pain, your body responding lustily to his fierce desire to make you hurt. His lips brush against your exposed neck before you feel the sweet sharp pain of his fangs sinking into their scar. You cry out as he begins to devour you, arching your back, pressing into him, pulling him closer.
He rips away, a smeared red grin as he admires your blood dripping down your neck, further still, down your chest, between your breasts. You shiver at the throbbing ache at your neck and in your core, your eyes darken and your lips tremble as he turns you to face the desk and bends you over it. He pushes your gown up over your hips, the sharp edge of the desk digs into the tops of your thighs, his hands grabbing the soft flesh of your behind, digging his fingers in before one hand is taken away only for it to slam back down. The loud smacking echos in your ears as he slaps your ass, the sting radiating heat as another impact comes, your body shuddering as he continues to abuse the same spot.
Every time he brings his hand down onto your tormented skin your lust grows, the agony fueling your body's response, wetness begins to smear across your inner thighs as his hand smooths over the tender spot,
"Does your goddess require more punishment of you, my sweet?" Astarion growls into your ear, his hardness pushing at your entrance.
"Yes." You moan, feeling him slide into you, holding still for just a moment, stretching you, filling you.
He grips your hips painfully, his preternatural strength bruising you instantly, as he begins to slam into you. It's a fierce, tortuous pace, and you relish it. His nails digging into your skin, the bite of the wood on your legs with every slam of his hips, driving you closer and closer to your climax. You begin to tense up around him, on the verge of orgasm… But ever the tease, Astarion releases you while pulling out, and you whimper at the sudden loss of his rough fucking.
"Not yet my pet." He commands, turning you around to face him.
He lifts you up onto the desk, laying you back, pushing your thighs wide, pining them down to either side of you, your bottom barely on the desk, your back arching painfully as he slams back into you. The sweet ecstasy found in your physical agony washes over you as he relentlessly pounds into you, every heavy impact of him into you brings you closer. You reach up and grip the edge of the desk, desperately trying to hold on for just a little longer, staving off your little death, but you can't… You cum, quivering and pulsing intensely around his cock, making him groan as he follows you, emptying himself deep inside of you.
He leans down into your neck, biting into his favorite place, taking just a little bit more of you before straightening back up, still buried within you. He caresses your legs, lifting one to place a gentle kiss on it, smiling down at you, his greatest treasure. The warm familiar blessing of Loviatar washes over you as he pulls out of you, your goddess and you satisfied with your pain.
You look up at his face, still a bloody mess, as you feel for his punctures; they've already closed back up into the permanent divots from when he made you his, eternally,
"We should probably clean you up a bit, my love," You sit up, cupping his face in one hand as he nuzzles into your palm.
"Then we should probably do the same for you, my sweet," He looks down the front of your body, you follow his gaze, seeing just how much you had bled during your fun, "Shall we go to the baths?" He whispers, bending to lick at the sticky red mess.
You giggle, wrapping your arms around him as he effortlessly lifts you up and carries you out of his study. You snuggle into the soft velvet of his coat, breathing in the sent; a comforting mix of his favorite bergamot and your lily oils.
3.
You hadn't realized how truly far this surprise was, but it makes little difference, for you have been traveling like the monarchs you are. You ride in a luxurious and ridiculously large carriage pulled by the biggest and strongest of horses, a veritable army accompanying you and a baggage train sent days ahead to prepare every stop you will make along the road. You spend days carousing in wealthy port cities, availing yourselves of the hospitality of the elite in their country estates and camping lavishly whenever no other appropriate accommodations can be had.
You never did get a chance to travel the world with him, and now you finally get the chance to see a large swathe of Faerun, tasting all it has to offer ones such as yourselves. And tonight, the final night of your journey will be spent camping once more, this time along the edge of the dark forest. This place brings on a flood of memories from a life long since passed… Nights spent surrounded by the sounds of a flowing river and a whispering forest… Nights spent discovering who the other was…
Astarion leaves you to settle into your tent as he manages something about the next part of your travels. You lounge on a mountain of pillows, letting your mind relive your past with him. You lay with your eyes closed, hearing Astarion return, talking in a hushed voice to his attendant before dismissing him. You open your eyes to see him standing silently, staring into nothingness, lost in thought. You sit up, ready to call out to him when he turns, looking at you, striding over and pushing you back down into the pillows. He begins to kiss you deeply, passionately… Ravenously. You're unsure what brought on his sudden need for you, but you're only too happy to give in to him, your body always ready for him.
His hands slip under the front of your gown, exposing your nipples to his fingers as he gently pinches and rolls them before he urges you to slide out of your gown. You smile, shimmying out as he pulls it down your body and tosses it aside. Your hands then begin to open up his shirt, pushing it down off his shoulders and he lets it fall away from him, then he rids himself of his pants before descending onto you again. You open your legs, welcoming him into you, shivering as he hilts himself within you, holding still as he smiles sweetly down at you, kissing you again, and again, taking your breath away.
For the first time in a long while he's tender in his love making; gently caressing your face, slowly rolling his hips, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with yours, his body pressed to yours as he holds you as close as he can. It's like he needs to feel you on every part of him. You wrap your arms around him, willing him to put all his weight on you as he brings his mouth to his place and bites into you, tasting what makes him call you "my sweet".
He rolls you both so that you're riding him. You slide up and down, keeping his languid pace, enjoying the light friction against that tiny bundle of nerves, his hands caressing every part of you he can reach as you lean heavily onto your hands on his chest, your hair falling to one side, a waterfall of blood red. This moment with him is beautiful and wonderful and you find bliss with him, collapsing onto his chest, breathing him in as he strokes your hair.
But once isn't enough for him. Again, he rolls on top of you, takes you, fucks you, consumes you. His ravenous need to have you over and over is intoxicating; every fiber of your being is aflame as you give in to his unrelenting embraces. As soon as one orgasm comes to an end, he hungrily fucks you again. Your mind is an imploding star, your body an uncontrollable 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 yourself reaching for him. It hurts to take him, but it's the sweetest pain you've ever known; an unending hunger for more despite feeling like you're going to shatter.
The sun begins to lighten the fabric of the tent and still the two of you are locked in each other's arms, still delighting in the others' body. It is not until dawn has passed into morning that he abates, simply holding you close. Sunlight streams in through an open flap, bathing you in its golden glow, your hair shimmering like fire as you turn to look up into his scarlet eyes… He's miles away, lost in thought. You wonder if it's to do with his surprise for you, but you keep silent, wishing this moment could last forever.
Astarion is the first to break the quiet reverie. He breathes into your ear,
"Come darling. We must ready ourselves."
He stands and you admire his sun kissed skin, the shadows cast on his back from the scars he no longer hides in shame. Your eyes drift down, watching him as he walks over to a large trunk and lifts something out of it before coming back. 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 in his favorite style.
"It's lovely!" You exclaim, reaching out to feel the plush softness, "Thank you, my love." You plant a kiss on his cheek and take the gown to put it on. You've barely pulled it up when he drapes a delicate golden chain over your hips, securing it in place with a matching tiny lock, a possessive little smirk spreading across his lips.
You stand back from him, allowing him to admire his gift on you. The colors complimenting your red hair, bronze freckled skin and mismatched red eyes.
"Gods, you're beautiful."
You give a twirl, coyly smirking, waiting for him to either pounce on you again or get dressed himself. He gets dressed while you sit, watching him, smiling as your fingers smooth the soft fabric across your thighs, tracing the delicate embroidery. He finishes and holds his hand out for you, ready to leave.
The camp bustles with all the business that must be taken care of on travel this extravagant. All the servants and attendants bow low, stepping aside as the two of you pass, heading into the forest.
4.
You're unsure how long you walk, but you're enjoying the familiar sounds of the forest as you travel deeper. Eventually reaching a crumbling ruin of what looks to be a long-forgotten temple to some now nameless god. Astarion walks on in silence, holding your hand, guiding you closer, the forest now falling silent as well, an eerie sense of foreboding creeps into your mind. You look up at your love, his face is hard like stone and you're afraid to speak, to break this ominous quiet. This whole thing sets you on edge, usually when Astarion presents you with a surprise he's excited, giddy even, impatient to see your reaction, but not this time…
You walk up the crumbling stairs, through a large open door, into what you can only describe as an altar room; vaulted ceilings with rotting wooden beams, shredded scraps of tapestries fluttering like ghosts along the stone walls, stained glass above windows that still have panes in them, only some lay shattered over the ground, and at the far back wall a shadowy figure you hadn't noticed before, stands behind the altar stone.
As you walk closer you see it's a woman; tall and fare with long pale hair flowing down her back and emanating a power you find familiar. She turns, looking into your eyes and you see it's your goddess, Loviatar.
"My Maiden of Pain!" You exclaim, dropping into a deep curtsy, Astarion's hand still clasped in yours.
"So, you've brought me my Eternal Chosen…" Her voice is like ice; cold and severe and terrible to be heard.
You look up from your curtsy, confusion furrowing your brow, gazing upon 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 is thick with unspoken emotion as he trails off, not saying something, but Loviatar understands him all the same.
"My Lord is through there." She gestures at the wall behind her as it slides open revealing a small, darkened room with an imposing man looming inside, a single candle burning on a table beside him.
Astarion releases your hand and begins to walk towards the doorway. You react too slowly, feeling his fingers slipping out of your hand before you can squeeze it closed.
"Astarion… what's going on?" He doesn't respond, "Astarion!" You plead, louder as he continues to walk away. You move, trying to step forward, to reach out to him but you can't. You look down to see a soft blue glow coming up from the floor around you… Terrifyingly familiar as you realize what it is, "…Nightsong…" You whisper in dread, your eyes looking back 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 your tears pour down your cheeks and you choke on your sobs.
"My lovely little Chosen of eternal pain. How I've waited for you." Loviatar whispers in pleasure.
You try to push her away as you scream for Astarion, again and again. You can feel your voice cracking, breaking with each successive scream. Your body shakes and you can hardly suck air into your lungs to scream again. All the while she watches you, her eyes gleaming with an icy fire, drinking 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, releasing her hold.
You stop screaming, the pain in your heart too much to take. You double over and the sound you make doesn't sound like you. It's something primal, feral, desperate… Broken. Your fingers tangle into your hair, gripping, pulling, trying to rip it out. You dig your nails into your skin, raking them down 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 can only feel her mirth, hear her laughing as your heart and soul shatter.
You look down at your hands and see no bloody scraps of skin, no ripped-out chunks of hair, just your perfect, unmarred flesh. Your gaze drifts up, looking upon Her through a veil of crimson hair, seeing Her vicious smile. Your mind slowly comes to understand what's happening. How naive you had been to think you had given your goddess what she wanted from you. That the life you were living wasn't your fate as her destined Chosen, that wasn't what was promised to her. You were born to suffer more than anyone ever 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 few centuries… not eternity. You foolishly believed Her when She said that simply spending eternity worshiping Her as you always had would be enough… That serving Astarion as She serves her Lord Bane would be enough. You would always feel Her pleasure when you made your offerings to Her, feel Her divine blessings upon you… But you were mistaken. Loviatar was biding Her time until this moment…
"Your infinite torment will be the ultimate libation paid to me as your goddess," She stands tall over you, "And I will relish the agony of my immortal Chosen's eternally breaking heart," She reaches out, sweeping your hair from your face, "The greatest pain any of my worshipers has ever given me. Or ever will…" Her laughter fills your ears as you sink to your knees before collapsing onto the cold stone floor, staring unblinkingly into a vast nothingness.
Your mind slowly fills with thoughts of 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 unraveling as you desperately grasp onto the promises he made when he transformed you into what you are. He told you he loves you, he said he always would... Aeterna Amantes… Lovers forever... Until the world falls down…
5.
Many years later. (500 or so)
Astarion stands before the glowing circle on the 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 icy yet hauntingly beautiful voice breaks the silence.
"I've come to bargain."
"Bargain?!" She barks out in laughter, "Bargain for what? Her?" Her long pale fingers drag 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 world 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 knowing only regret from the moment he let go of her hand that day.
"Oh, sweetling…" She pouts in false sympathy before smiling cruelly, whispering into his ear, "You thought it was just her pain I was going to be given in that little deal of yours?" She nuzzles into his neck, breathing in his discomfort, "Oh, no, no, no. I also get your eternal remorse." She moves to stand before him on the other side of his silent lover, holding his stare, "You were never satisfied with what you had, always longing for more, but you had everything your kind has ever wanted. Everything they've spent millennia striving for..." She smiles, glancing down at her prize, "You performed a profane ritual to become a living vampire, the most powerful one, ever! Giving you the ability, the strength to take the world for yourself," 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, "Because I made her for you, because she was destined to be yours." She pauses to revel at his disbelief, "She gave you everything… Oh, but how shortsighted you were... Well, I suppose you weren't given the education necessary to be a patient, all powerful immortal, like your previous master had." His eyes burn into Hers at the mention of Cazador. Loviatar's laughter grows colder, harsher as She kneels down behind Talia, smoothing back her red hair, revealing the frozen look of anguish on her perfect features.
Astarion stares at the women before him, painfully still, Loviatar's voice finally breaking the silence,
"My Lord Bane did well in making you His Chosen, for you have served us both, so very well." She reaches up, taking his hand, pulling him down to his knees, placing his hand on Talia's face to feel her ever flowing tears, watching him clench his jaw and grind his teeth to keep from speaking, "You needn't have made that deal with Him… You would have accomplished everything He wanted of you, and everything you wanted… All you needed was patience and her… And yet, to do as your new Master wanted, you threw her away." She tosses his hand back out of the glow and away from the face he longs to kiss. She rises to her full height, gliding over to stand between Astarion and Talia, "But thank you, for my immortal Chosen. For without you, she would have escaped this fate years ago."
Loviatar fades away, leaving Astarion to his thoughts. He thinks of how Talia had been his from the moment he set eyes on her, and he had been hers the moment she set eyes on him; inextricably drawn to one another through their fates as Chosen… or at least for him, his potential to be the greatest of Bane's Chosen. How they had found each other and survived through impossible odds. How she gave him everything he asked of her, demanded of her, always with a smile. How she empowered him, submitted to him… loved him. And just as she had told him she would, she gave him the power to conquer the world…
Years of political maneuvering, intrigue and even eventually war had brought most of Faerun under his rule, pleasing his god, Bane. But Astarion had grown comfortable from easily taking over most of the continent, relaxing into a leisurely life with his beloved by his side, enjoying all that his victories had brought them. He planned to dominate the world, thinking it would be as easy as the rest had been, but it wasn't. His campaigns grew more difficult, and Astarion hated being thwarted, raging at the denial of his destiny, and so he sought more power from his god.
Bane made Astarion an offer… Hand over Talia to her goddess and He will grant him dominion over all Banites the world over, calling them to Baldur's Gate where Astarion could create an army of vampiric spawn and bring all of Toril to its knees. And so, he did as his master wished and gave away the only joy in his life.
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, his lost love.
The End