1.

You wake late the next day, opening your eyes to Astarion standing by the window. He's leaning against the frame, arms crossed, looking broodingly down at the bustling street below. You rise from the bed, quietly going up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist, letting your lips gently graze the raised skin of scars on his back; he no longer flinches when you touch them. He twists in your embrace, pulling you into his arms, holding you close, nosing into your hair as you lean back against him, smiling.

You're feeling well enough; no dizziness or bouts of vertigo from blood loss. He had agreed to show restraint when it came to indulging in your blood last night, but everything else was still on the menu, so to speak.

A knock at the door interrupts this quiet moment. Astarion releases you to answer it, telling you to cover up before he gets there. You grab the first thing you see, his shirt, and pull it over your head as he slowly cracks the door open. It's Shadowheart come to give him an earful,

"Astarion, it's been days! Let me in!" Her voice sounds strained, irritated even.

"Hey! Shadowheart! Come in." You call out to your friend, prancing over to the door with a silly grin on your face, wondering if it really has been days since you returned from Wyrm's Rock. Only yesterday was the whole day you spent in bed, right?

Astarion gives you a side-eyed stare, his mouth set in a hard line as he opens the door wider, letting her in.

"Finally!" She pushes passed him so she can get to you, gesturing behind her, "This little sneak got you squirreled away before I even got a chance to see you. You all right? I mean… no one's seen you since…" She has a pained look on her face and pity in her eyes, you know what she's alluding to; she's the only other person to know about your past.

"I am. I'm fine, really good, actually."

"Are you sure? It can't have been easy being there, as his…"

"Oh, yeah, I'm used to that… That wasn't the hard part. It was the confinement! I was going absolutely stir crazy in there!" Neither of them ever needs to know just how disgusted you were by him… The fool, thinking he had any right to touch you, to take you away from Astarion.

She holds your hands as you tell her what it was like being trapped in his chambers, with that horrible woman. She's aghast at you being forced to dye your hair, she only now notices that it's a little darker than before, hardly a difference now, really. You're elated to hear it, hopefully with one more wash it'll be back to its former glory. You do not mention the dead man's desire to change your eyes, his control of how you ate, his dislike of your dancing, his contempt for what you were before nor of being recognized at the ball. You don't know how Astarion would take to hearing any of it.

"Gods, Talia… That sounds awful. You were allowed so little…"

"Yeah, well it's over now, and I'm just glad to be back where I belong. With whom I belong." You smile up at Astarion, his hand brushing back your hair to gently grasp the nape of your neck.

"Satisfied?" His brow arches sharply, cold eyes looking down at Shadowheart, his lips no longer smiling.

"I suppose. I can confirm she's alive at least. I'm almost surprised I didn't find her half dead in the bed with your track record." She gives him her own icy glare and you don't understand why, she was always more sassy-sarcastic with him, never… this… She turns a happier face on you, "We're having dinner downstairs tonight, you should join us. Maybe catch up on everything you missed?"

"I would love to! I need to properly thank all of you. I'll see you down there later." She walks back out the door as you smile and wave.

Astarion locks the door behind her and comes back to you. His hands tangling into your hair, is lips descending onto yours, kissing you hungrily before pulling away,

"There is something I need you to help me with tonight. I need you to accompany me while I continue my search for the other spawn. Lae'zel and I have been unsuccessful thus far, but tonight, I think we may get lucky."

"But what about dinner? I just said I'd be there."

"There will be another time you can see them. But I need you for this. Please."

"Of course, my love. Whatever you need of m-"

His lips silence you as he carries you back to bed.

2.

Astarion strides over to the inn keep while you glance around the dingy dark room. There're a few rough looking people scattered around the tables with guttering tallow candles illuminating their glowering faces, infusing the room with the smell of burning flesh. You stand in the threshold, the sky behind you beginning to lighten with the approaching dawn. You haven't been to this part of the city, not since moving here, anyway. You know Sharess' place across the way, but never once did you venture this far from low town; there was never a reason to. There's no good shopping, no good taverns, at least none Ana would slum it in, and you never once wanted to travel from the city, so there was no need to return to Wyrm's Crossing.

You crinkle your nose at the foul stench, walking further in, your eyes wandering as does your mind, trying to distract yourself from the smell of this place. You spot stairs along one wall and meander over there, slow quiet steps as you wonder what the rest of this place is like. Do they have semi-private rooms? Or are they arranged like the initiate bunks at your temple, just rows of pallet beds? You get closer, hearing voices coming from just atop the stairs, your eyes flick over to where Astarion is still talking. You know you shouldn't wander off, but it's not like you're leaving the building. Astarion is going to come this way anyway… probably… Your curiosity is piqued, questions worm their way through your mind. Who else is up at this hour? And arguing no less? What are they quietly shouting about? Your foot rises and steps lightly onto the first stair.

"You couldn't wait two minutes for me to finish?" His mildly exasperated voice startles you.

"Sorry." Your face scrunches up and you pout before a mischievous smirk graces your lips; he knows better than to expect you to stay put.

"Maybe I should find that bell of yours so I can hear you when you decide to wander off," He reaches for your braid, giving it a quick little tug, "Or, better yet, a leash." He returns that smirk of yours, grabbing your hand, leading you up the stairs towards the voices you heard.

He stops a step or two from the top, tilting his head, listening closely. You do the same, straining to eavesdrop; it's a man and a woman. You can't see them, Astarion blocks your view, but something about them gives you pause... You both hold your breath.

"We have enough for the master. No more are needed." The woman sounds scared.

"It's not for the master, it's for me. I spent one hundred years eating rats and dogs, but soon I'll be able to feast." The man sounds excited, those words bringing to mind what Astarion told you; these people must be his siblings... The man continues, "I want someone there, ready for me. And once the Mass is done and our lord grants us our freedom. I can celebrate by drinking them dry."

Astarion suddenly moves, releasing your and revealing himself to them,

"Cazador promised you your freedom? And you believed him? Ha! You were never burdened with intelligence, Petras, but your load seems especially light these days." Irritation tinges every word he speaks.

"Astarion? It - it cannot be…" The woman holds her hand out as if to touch him, you hurry to stand beside him; she pulls her hand back when you appear, her eyes questioning who you even are.

"Well, that's no way to welcome back a brother, Dal. Didn't you miss me?" He hurls a mocking response at her, her face growing sadder as he sneers; you know he's never once seen them as his family.

"Why did you come back? You were free!" Her eyes look on Astarion in dismay.

"I'm here to kill Cazador. And that's all you need to know."

"You can't mean that." Her voice is quiet, incredulous.

"He's playing mind games, like he always did. He can't raise a hand to the master, let al-"

"You have no idea what I can do." He cuts off Petras, grabbing him by the neck and dragging him to the window, ripping away the curtain, revealing the rising sun.

"NO!" Dal throws herself across the room, away from the burning light and watches in horror as one brother tortures the other.

"Where is he hiding? TELL ME!" Astarion holds Petras in the sun's rays, letting his skin slowly sizzle and burn, turning to ash while his own remains unharmed.

"Brother! Please!" Dal pleads from where she cowers in the shadows.

"Tell me what I need to know. Now!" His grip tightens and you watch in anxious silence as Petras cries out in obvious anguish.

"The master is preparing the Black Mass beneath the palace. There's a defiled chapel hidden there." Dal speaks rapidly, tentatively holding her hands out towards them but pulls them back, fearing burning.

Astarion drags his struggling brother over to his sister and tosses him at her feet. You finally move, having not really known what you could even do to help. Did he even need help? You stand by his side, peering over at his "family".

"What the hells happened to you Astarion? What are you?!" The fear palpable in Petras' voice as he struggles to stand back up with Dal's help.

"I'm more than what I was. And I'm not afraid of anything anymore. The sun can't harm me. Cazador can't compel me." He smiles savagely, his fangs almost bared, "Now go, before I change my mind about roasting you, little brother." He leans back, cocking his head to the side, confidently defiant under their disbelieving stares. He drapes his arm over your shoulders, bringing you in closer.

"This isn't over, Astarion." Dal's final words before she and Petras vanish in puffs of red mist.

"Um… What now? They just vanished…"

"Don't fret my sweet," His hand holds your chin, tilting your face to look up at him, "I know where they're going. I know they'll go straight to Cazador and tell him about what just happened. And when they do, they'll be trembling with fear, poor fools," His feral smile widens, "Now we must ready ourselves to take the fight to him. Where I can then take his place in this Black Mass and emerge the Ascendant."

"Yes, my love, of course, but…" Your voice goes quiet, almost a whisper, "Why did you bring me with you? All I did was stand here." You lower your eyes, your question, more a self-doubting thought making its way to your mouth, than anything.

"I brought you in case they decided to pull something stupid. I may have needed that little light magic trick you know. It worked on the shadow creatures, perhaps it works on vampires, too." He places a soft kiss on your forehead before moving on, "Now let's get out of here. This place smells of rat piss and despair."

His sweet gesture and confidence soothe your trepidation,

"Agreed. I thought the lower city on a hot summer day smelled awful. This place is rank." You laugh with him and walk back to your rooms to maybe get some rest.

3.

Early afternoon comes with a knock at the door. You lazily stretch in bed as Astarion rises from his chair, placing a heavy tome down before answering the door. The door swings wide to allow the server in with a tray of food for you, they silently slip back out as you make your way to the table to eat. Astarion returns to reading by the fire as you begin to spoon the soup up to your mouth, going over in your mind what had happened earlier and how he has yet to say anything about what to do next. Halfway through your meal you quietly ask,

"What's the next step?"

He doesn't even look up from his book, just turns the page and answers you,

"I've spoken with Lae'zel and Karlach. They'll accompany us to Cazador's palace tomorrow."

"So soon? And that's all that's coming with us?" It feels so fast and so few… How can that be it to take on a powerful vampire lord? You leave the spoon on the table, no longer able to eat.

"I cannot wait any longer, my sweet. I must do this. And any more than just a few of us I fear Cazador would bar us from entering. He would simply find some other way to capture me, to bring me back." He's no longer looking down at the book, instead looking at you, fierce determination shining in his crimson eyes, "He knows that we're coming, now. He'll set a trap; I know he will. I'm not walking in there blindly unaware. And that can be used to our advantage. Trust me."

"I do, it's just that…" It's just that you're scared, the only way he ever described Cazador was as a terrifying monster with unimaginable power, so easily able to kill… How can so few hope to take that on?

"You need not be afraid; he doesn't have control over me anymore. Nothing will stop me from taking this away from him." He rises from his chair and comes to your side.

"Of course, my love. Nothing will stop you."

You turn to face him, his hands reach out to you, caressing your cheeks, his eyes filled with ambition and desire. You silently pray to your goddess; whatever pain need be visited upon you; you want to keep him safe. You're shaking, you want to cry, but don't want him to see how afraid you truly are.

You stand up, rising up on your toes to kiss him. He deepens the kiss, his fingers tangle into your hair as you wrap your arms around his waist. His lips travel down to your throat, though he doesn't bite you this time. This time he settles on kissing you, lifting you up and taking you to bed where he satiates his hunger for your body. You stamp down your fears, letting him take you to oblivion.

The night wears on as you lay in the bed, held in his arms, neither of you able to settle into rest. Astarion just busies his hands with your hair, combing, stroking, smoothing, twisting. His bravado from earlier seemingly wanes, you don't know what more you can do to soothe him, what words you could say to alleviate his tension. How do you comfort someone planning on killing their tormentor? Though you had reveled in the death of Gortash, Karlach seemed to despair… Will it be the same for Astarion? You want this to be everything he wants it to be. You want him to take Cazador's place, to ascend, to be able to walk with you in the sun once everything else is over.

You turn into his chest, nuzzling his smooth skin, breathing in the smell of him and whisper words you've never uttered before,

"I love you." You say it so quietly, you're not sure he even heard you. You don't know if you wanted him to hear you.

His fingers still and you feel him starting to shift beneath you, sliding down so his face is before yours,

"What did you say?" His brows furrow, his eyes searching yours, it's as though he doesn't believe what he just heard.

"I said I love you," You bring a hand up to hold his face, your thumb gently sliding back and forth, "I love you, Astarion." It feels so strange to say it out loud…

So strange and yet, perfect. This feeling had been building up inside of you all this time, and it's finally becoming clear to you; no one has ever made you feel this way, and no one else ever will. It's not just desire, not just your entwined fates as Chosen, but something more, something that's coming from deep inside of you, begging for you to be with him, always. You keep your eyes on his as he stares back at you, still not having responded to your confession. Your stomach clenches: you fear his reaction, that he wouldn't have wanted you to say that. You know it's only because of what you are that he wants you, and it's enough for you. You don't need him to love you back, you only need him to keep you by his side.

"I love you, Talia." His words are barely a whisper, "I love you, and I'm so afraid of losing you. Promise me, you'll be mine… forever."

"Forever and always… I'm yours, body and soul," The words scarcely pass your lips before he covers your mouth with his, his body bearing down on yours, finding ecstasy with you one last time before dawn can break.

4.

You wait for Karlach and Lae'zel in the hall outside their room, anxiously tugging at the chainmail you haven't worn in what feels like forever. Astarion stands by the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall with an agitated look on his face as he watches the door. Neither of you were able to get much rest last night; fear, anxiety and confessing your love for one another made that impossible. Shadowheart is the one to open the door, she looks at you questioningly before opening it up all the way to let the rest of your group out. Karlach nods curtly at you before heading over to Astarion and Lae'zel hands you your shield. Shadowheart holds out the mace she claimed from you, but before you can take it, she speaks to you, her voice strained,

"Talia, please, don't do something you'll regret."

"What do you mean? We're going to kill an evil vampire and free Astarion. What's to regret?" Despite your anxiety and fear you know you're doing what's best for Astarion. You can't fathom why she looks almost disappointed.

"It's…" She stops when Astarion comes up behind you, her eyes focusing on his, "Never mind." She looks back at you, "Good luck. Don't die on me. I still need you to help me, remember?" Her smile is sad but genuine, as she lets you take the mace from her outstretched hand.

"Of course! How could I forget?" You smile and wave as Astarion leads you away to join the others downstairs.

As you walk with them you wonder what she meant by all of that. How could there be something to regret in giving Astarion everything he wants? Whatever makes him happy will make you happy. And of course, you hadn't forgotten about her parents and the need to rescue them, there's just been a lot happening, so you hadn't gotten around to it just yet. Right?

On the short walk to the Szarr Palace Astarion tries to tell the three of you what to expect. He had been over some of it already with the Karlach and Lae'zel, but he had yet to tell you. He expects there to be thralls, charmed people guarding the place, and inside there will be the servants… willing slaves. It's at the mention of them that his face cringes into a look of abject disgust, going on to describe their hopes for Cazador to bestow the eternal gift on them, but only should they serve him well enough. You understand his despising these servants; the thought of wanting to become a spawn slave to that monster bewilders you. Do they not see how Cazador treats his spawn? Do they think they'd somehow be granted true vampirism when the other spawn have not?

You make it to the servants' entrance along the wall enclosing the upper city. This strange palace, straddling the two worlds of Baldur's Gate, looms over you now, an imposing shadow that makes your heart beat wildly. Astarion walks ahead of you, quietly, fists swinging as he takes longer and faster strides towards the door. You have to almost jog to keep up, followed closely by your oddly silent companions; neither of whom has said much to you since they left their room. You hear the door lock clink and the hinges creak as it's left ever so slightly ajar,

"Well, that's not ominous," Astarion arches a brow as he halts before the now open door, staring for only a moment before going in.

You follow him inside; it's a grand hall with thick plush carpets, high vaulted ceilings, enormous macabre paintings, ornate fixtures, most everything colored dark red and gilded with gold. It would be beautiful if not for the oppressive atmosphere and strange people busying themselves all over the place. They're mumbling to themselves about everything that needs to be done, and done perfectly for their master… These are the ones that choose to be here, the foolish servants of a cruel master,

"Another guest for the master's celebrations? I'm afraid you're too late. You'll have to-" A tall man with stringy hair speaks before looking up, "Master Astarion? What are you doing here? Why aren't you downstairs?" His brows knit together, his voice sounding as though he's frightened.

"Obviously I'm on my way down now. So, if you could point us in the right direction," He sneers at the man.

"You're too late. The doors have been sealed. The ritual is about to begin." His eyes widen as he continues.

"Then unseal the doors and let me in." Astarion's voice grows more annoyed.

"It's too late. Godey has sealed the doors and won't open them again until the ritual is complete." His breath grows rapid, his nostrils flaring slightly.

"Cazador gave the key to Godey? That sadistic old sack of bones…"

"It does not matter. You're too late." The man's countenance turning from meek and skittish to grossly elated, "The master will be so angry that you missed the ritual. He will do such terrible, terrible thi-"

Astarion's hand flies up and grips the man by his throat cutting off his words. You can see his veins beginning to bulge on his forehead, his eyes growing red and teary when Astarion finally releases the man, dropping him to cough and gasp on the floor. Astarion looks down on him before stepping over him, looking over his shoulder and speaking to you,

"Come on. I know where to find Godey… He'll be in the kennels…" His lip curls and his jaw clenches as he pauses, waiting for you.

"The kennels?" Karlach whispers to Lae'zel behind you, but she can only shrug, she doesn't know of that horrid place, but you do.

Further down the hall Astarion stops in front of a large set of double doors. They're covered in strange gold lettering, writing of a language you don't recognize and a stylized depiction of a rat king: a mass of rats whose tails have become entangled, an odd fable that you can never remember the moral of. You stand beside him, looking up at all the intricacies when he mutters,

"I don't remember ever seeing the ballroom doors closed before… And this writing…" His hand traces the foreign script, "It's all over the house, but he forbade us from learning it…" His fingers curl into a fist before he continues on, descending the stairs, deeper into this palace.

Down the corridor, passed another crazed muttering servant, to a hidden door that Astarion flings open,

"I know you're there, Godey. Stop skulking and show yourself." He barges in as the door slams against a stone wall.

"You always were sharp little one. Sharp enough to cut yourself." A raspy throaty voice answers from around the corner, inside that dark dank room that smells of dried blood. It's an animated skeleton in armor that rattles with every move it makes, "Why are you here little one?"

You watch Astarion take a deep breath, steadying his temper and putting on his player's face,

"We're here to see the master. But the ballroom door is locked. Give us the key?" He struggles with every word, keeping a pained grin spread over his lips.

"Ha! No. No. The doors are sealed on master's orders. Godey will not open them for anyone, much less for you!" Such mocking intonations as he accentuates every word with a shake of its skull.

This is the thing that would torture Astarion when Cazador didn't feel like doling out punishment himself. And you can see it's taking so much for Astarion not to scream at this thing,

"You do realize, he needs me for his ritual. Are you willing to risk the master's anger?"

"Godey was wondering about that. Godey knows the master was searching for you. He must have forgotten you were lost." The skeleton's tone shifts, sounding dismayed that the monster could be anything less than perfect, "Here, here take it." He drops a ring into Astarion's hand, "Now go to him. Help him achieve his destiny."

"Of course." Astarion closes his hand around it, leaving the skeleton to stay in the kennels.

You follow Astarion out of the torture chamber to where the others stand, his hand still open, looking down at the ring as you get closer.

"Will that allow us entry to the ballroom?" Lae'zel stands next to you as she speaks, looking down at the tiny piece of gold on his palm.

"It should. Godey wouldn't lead me astray now. The master's ritual is too important for him to try setting me up for punishment. Let's go. We still need to figure out how to get to the defiled chapel." He looks at you, a faint smile graces his lips before he heads back to the stairs.

You follow him up and stand before the ballroom doors again,

"My love, I don't understand…" He looks down at you waiting for you to continue, "If you're mean to be a part of this ritual, why bar you from entering? This all feels…"

"Like a trap?" You nod at him, "I knew he would do something; I just didn't know what it would be." He steps forward and slots the ring into a tiny hole on the doors.

As you watch him a thought intrudes upon your mind; Cazador wants Astarion alive, but alive and in one piece are two very different things. You open your mouth to speak, but it's too late to say anything… Your eyes focus on the doors as they shimmer, shift and slowly open up onto the bloody ballroom and all the terrifying creatures that lie in wait,

"You! You cannot be here! No one in. No one out." A large mangy werewolf struggles to form the words, spittle dripping from its maw.

"You're new," Astarion scoffs at it, "Cazador never kept guard dogs before."

"The runaway spawn! You reek of the master's sent! Come with us! Come to master!" It starts to turn to the side waving Astarion on to follow.

"I will not be ordered around my own house by some blow in mutt!" He's furious and before the creature can speak another word Astarion lunges at it with a dagger gripped tight in his hand.

The blade is already lodged in the talking one's eye before the other werewolf can react. Lae'zel and Karlach charge in passed you and you just stand there, motionless… It feels like so long ago that you last put on armor, held a shield, wielded a weapon… These past days of captivity, rescue and then that small taste of a life free from all of this with him, has dulled you. It's like everything you'd been forced to learn on this crazed journey is just suddenly gone...

Someone is screaming… Who?

Your fingers twitch, magic gathering in them, your instincts finally kicking in, someone is hurt, and you will help them. Your eyes dart around the room, spotting Karlach with a dire wolf's jaw clamped around her forearm, the creature only holding harder as the flames begin to singe its fur. You reach out to heal her, but she raises a hand to stop you,

"No! I'm good!" She huffs, bashing in the animal's face then signaling you to put up your shield.

You don't know why she's stopping you, but you do as she asks. You stay put, shield raised, only attacking things that come directly for you. Though none of them harass you for long, one of the others always comes to your aid, whether you needed it or not. Any attempt you make to be more helpful is met with shouts to stay back or that no help is needed. And so, you watch as one by one everything in the room is killed, their blood slowly spreading over the marble floor, mixing in with the congealed puddles left from some other massacre. You look at your party's panting, sweaty faces, wondering what that was all about. You go to Karlach again to at least look at the savaged flesh of her arm, but she shoos you away.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" You look from her to Lae'zel and then finally Astarion, frustrated at being made to be useless.

"We were expecting some fighting before we got to what's his face… but… well…" Karlach trails off, looking to Astarion to finish.

"We need you to reserve everything for when we face Cazador. I need you to have all of your magic ready for him…"

He never finishes that thought, only leaves it lingering for you to ruminate on while you all walk through the now silent ballroom and to the door leading into Cazador's private study. Astarion had never once been allowed in, none of the spawn had been, but it was where every one of their victims was brought for their master to feed on.

Astarion's hand reaches out and turns the handle, pushing the door away from him, letting it swing open on silent hinges. It's a long room lined with windows on one side and bookshelves along the other, a desk on a dais sits in the far back. You step inside after Astarion, and feel a draft, the air pulling you to a large archway off to the side, a gently swaying curtain obscuring what lies beyond it. Astarion pushes it aside, revealing a small room with a metal platform; an ancient lift that descends below the palace…