Based on Baldur's Gate 3 by Larian Studios
Now - Act 3
Outside Rivington
Astarion was going to kill Gale.
With this dagger, right here in his shaking hand.
How dare he laugh at Tav? How dare he? How could he look upon Their unique body, inhabited by the most incandescently beautiful soul Astarion had ever known, and fucking scoff?
Astarion was blind, so unable to see anything through the bloody fog of overwhelming indignation that he could not yet move toward Tav's tent to slay the irreverent wizard. He blinked furiously to clear his vision, desperate to focus on Tav's tent in the firelight. He needed to get there, he needed to be inside the tent already, stabbing and cutting and twisting the blade in the unholy bastard's back, punching clear through Gale's ribs as if they were rotten kindling, piercing new holes in the lungs, popping the heart like a fleshy balloon, hearing the wet wheeze of the arsehole's labored breaths before Astarion finally wrenched his head back by the hair and slit his throat so deeply that it would take only a little more effort to tear the hated appendage from its glistening red neck –
"Wotcha doin'?" asked Karlach's alto voice, with her usual bubbly curiosity.
Astarion's head snapped 'round in her direction, only able to discern her heart-engine's glow through the obscuring crimson haze.
She stood several yards off to his left, probably unable to see the knife in his spasming right hand, but she'd had no trouble reading the livid emotion on his face.
"All right there, Astarion? You look … not well."
"He … laughed," was all Astarion could force past his gritted teeth.
"He? He, who?" Then, in typical Karlach fashion, the combination of words sidetracked her train of thought and she burst into a peal of laughter. "Hee-hoo, hee-hoo! I sound like a bloody donkey!"
By all the gods in the pantheon, if one more person laughed tonight, he'd show them the meaning of pain.…
Several Weeks Earlier - Act 1
Overgrown Ruins
Tonight was the third time Astarion had cornered Tav to proposition Them for protection – not that They were supposed to figure out that survival was his true motive – and Tav had finally stopped giving him those vague delaying tactics.
"Is not that I'm opposed to the idea of a night with you," Tav explained, "but I need time to prepare."
"Time to prepare what?" Astarion had purred. "Your delicious body for me?"
"Well … yes."
"Darling, I am fully capable of taking you … as you are," he'd responded, letting the deliberate pause do the heavy lifting.
Tav's dark eyelids had flickered, Their sure hands becoming uncertain, fingers twisting together hesitantly. "I doubt that. You see …" Tav glanced up at Astarion through Their thick lashes, with a guarded look Astarion had been expecting, but They followed it up with a comment he most definitely had not been prepared to hear. "I know that I look male, but … I'm not."
Astarion managed to keep his eyebrows from rising too high. He didn't want to seem skeptical, only interested. He had taken Tav for a singularly exquisite half-elf male, what with the height, and the muscles, the square jaw, narrow hips, lack of obvious breasts, and the failure to correct anyone who referred to Them as "he" or "him". But no matter: Astarion had bedded hundreds of mannish women in his two centuries of hunting for Cazador. In fact, they were usually even more grateful for his attentions than ordinary women … and Tav was no ordinary woman.
"Oh, really?" he had murmured. "Well, let me assure you, madam, that this particular revelation is not at all a deal-breaker. Beauty knows no boundaries … and neither do I."
Tav had shook Their head, the blunt ends of Their dark mane brushing Their shoulders. "I'm not female, either."
"Pardon?" Astarion's practiced lines failed him for a moment. He'd heard of those whose souls did not match their bodies. He had even wooed a few, and found that everything functioned as expected, usually because they maintained their preferred physical form with an Alter Self charm or an exorbitantly expensive Polymorph potion.
He would not think about it. Would not think. Would not remember being force-fed a potion of True Polymorph so the bulldogs could tear him apart, one chunk of bovine muscle at a time –
Tav pressed Their lips into a thin line, the bright gaze becoming doubtful as They read outrage and helplessness and fear on his face … and assumed it was directed at Them.
Astarion tried again. "Come now, beloved," he said, making his tone as low and sincere as he could. "You can tell me anything. You're safe with me, body and soul."
An unexpectedly sharp needle of pain pierced him when Tav repeated, "Body?" and the full lower lip of Their mouth wavered for a moment.
Astarion very nearly panicked, feeling this gorgeous creature, his hope of survival, slipping away from him. Gods, no. If Tav was one of the rare people who did not desire sex, then Astarion had nothing to offer.
Karlach was the heart of gold, Wyll the knight in shining armor, Gale the walking encyclopedia, Lae'zel the fiercest fighter, Shadowheart the mystical healer. And Astarion was the sex appeal. Period. End of description.
He felt impoverished in a single moment. All possible roads to Tav's heart were taken – by those who had more and better charms than he – if Tav did not want sex.
Willing his hands to be steady, he used a single fingertip to tilt Their cleft chin up. "Any – and every – secret you have is safe with me," he said, trying so very hard not to sound like he was begging. He prayed Tav wouldn't try to use the Mind Flayer tadpole to eavesdrop on Astarion's thoughts as they babbled, over and over, 'Please don't say you don't want me.'
Tav straightened up, the flaming firelight gilding Their outline in red and gold, and Astarion felt his dead heart leap in response. "I am not one, or the other," Tav said fiercely. "I am in between. I have been, since my birth. The healers told my parents there was nothing to be done for me."
Astarion clasped his hands so Tav wouldn't see them shaking with relief. "Naturally, my love, since there was nothing injured about you."
Tav nodded, Their face unreadable. "That's right. Nothing broken, they said, so there was nothing to heal."
"An even rarer creature than I had hoped," Astarion said, narrowly managing to conceal how profoundly he believed it. Tav was unlikely to be promiscuous, or easily seduced away from Astarion, if They had an unusual body configuration.
Astarion, however, was a master at pushing past his initial misgivings about sex and getting on with the deed as required. He tilted his head to examine Tav's exquisite face. This would not be so difficult.
He perused Their sea-green eyes, ringed with solid grey, and remembered all the times Tav had leapt between him and an arrow or blade. Most of them had happened after Astarion had tried to drink Their blood and been politely but firmly refused. After They found out what he was.
After.
No, forcing a physical response from his body so he could ensnare Tav would not be difficult at all.
Then Tav threw a wrench in things.
"Which would you prefer?" They asked slowly.
"Excuse me?"
"Male, or female? Which would you prefer?"
"I don't – I don't understand why you are asking." Astarion retreated a half-step.
"I mean that I can get an Alter Self amulet. I know where to buy one," They explained. "My natural … configuration … doesn't fully allow, uh, traditional lovemaking. Just tell me which you'd prefer that I be, when we're together."
Astarion blinked rapidly, feeling as if someone had thrown sand in his eyes. "You want me to pick a physical sex for you to be?" He glared at Tav. This must be some sort of trick. A test. Tav was trying to trip him up. "How absurd."
Then he felt like a royal ass when Tav's face crumpled.
"I need a direction to go," Tav said quietly. "More male, or more female. Either one is fine. I've done each before, and it works out all right. Everything … fits … the way it's supposed to, when I've got an amulet on. I just wanted to give you a choice."
"You wanted to give me a choice about what to do with your body?" Astarion asked incredulously, his shock putting more acidity into the words than he truly felt.
Tav's expression lightened into a smirk, and They shot back, "Haven't you been telling me for weeks now what you'd like to do with my body?"
Astarion couldn't help but laugh at that little jab. "As you say, my dear. So I have." He frowned, thinking seriously. "But … I wouldn't feel right, asking you to change yourself for me. To ... force yourself ... so that ..." He would not think about how many ... would not think about it ... would not think ...
Astarion shook his head decisively, saying the words before his practical side could stop him. "I won't choose for you."
'Stupid, stupid, stupid,' he cursed himself immediately. 'What are you doing? Flip a coin! Close your eyes and pick one! Draw straws! Just get Tav in bed and attached to you as fast as you can, fool!'
"I don't know how to do … this … without choosing," Tav confessed, looking so innocent and vulnerable that Astarion wanted to strap them into every piece of armor in the camp. "I've never been with someone as my natural self. I've always worn an amulet made for the occasion."
Astarion took both of Tav's hands in his. Looking back, it was that moment when he'd begun to think of Tav as "Them" instead of "him", even if he continued to say "him" and "he" out loud. The others didn't need to know how rare Tav was; that was a secret for the two of them alone. Let the others assume Tav was an effeminate man; Astarion would be the only one among them to know the truth, and secrets could bind Tav to him even more securely than a few dozen orgasms could do.
"I can wait," he told Them. "As long as necessary. I want the real you, whatever that means in your mind. If you need time to prepare, then do so. Come to me when you're ready, darling, with or without an amulet. But know this: I want you. All of you. I'll only take what you give me, but I hold out hope that you'll share with me all that you are." With that, he placed a simple, chaste kiss on the back of each of Their hands, and let Them go.
Now - Act 3
Outside Rivington
He'd let Them go – his light, salvation, only hope – and They'd chosen Gale instead.
Gale, who'd taken one look at the beauty Tav had chosen not to share with Astarion, and laughed his head off.
"He – They – radiant –" Astarion would probably be embarrassed later at the spittle that leaked from his clenched fangs. In the moment, all he could think about was ripping off Gale's face. With his teeth. The blunt ones. So it would hurt more.
"Wha'?" Astarion couldn't make out her expression, but he knew from her tone of voice that Karlach had wrinkled her nose as she asked this.
Another peal of masculine laughter from Tav's tent galvanized Astarion into producing a full sentence.
"He's laughing at Them!" He scarcely registered the cracking of his voice on the high notes.
"Them, who? It's just him and Shadowheart in there."
"Sh– Sh–art?" He tripped sideways over his own feet in surprise, like a drunkard, barely managing to stay vertical. "Shadow…heart?"
"Yeah." Karlach nodded enthusiastically. "They're practicing Tasha's Hideous Laughter, now that Tav's decided we all need to cross-train before taking on Cazador. And of course, Hideous Laughter makes you fall right over while it's active, so they needed somewhere with lots of pillows. That's why Tav loaned them his tent. You know how he buys every pretty little cushion he can find when we come across a trader. A regular collector, he is."
They heard another peal of amusement from Gale. Now that he was listening for it, Astarion could detect the forced nature of the Wizard's merriment.
"He's not …" Astarion blinked furiously, willing the facts to soothe his inflamed brain. "He's not lasting very long," he finally said with a crooked grin at Karlach. While she was distracted with bellowing out her own laughter, he slid the dagger back into his boot.
"I should say not!" she cackled. "Our dear Sh'art is a novice at Bard spells. Even a first-level enchantment like that will take a lot longer to master than the few days she's been studying."
Karlach's toothy grin faded, and she examined his face thoughtfully. "Is that why you were upset? You thought they were using Tav's tent without asking? They promised to take their shoes off an' everything, so they wouldn't trample the cushions." Karlach squinted slightly as she remembered something. "And I think I recall Tav saying he'd spend the evening in your tent while they practiced." Her frown melted into a knowing smile. "Sounded to me like he was jumping at the chance, if you know what I mean."
Astarion made his eyebrow arch. "No, I most certainly do not."
Karlach laughed again. "As if we 'aven't seen the both of ya, makin' eyes at each other." She winked at him ostentatiously. "Chapter's closing, time to write a new one, eh?" Her face softened further. "A happy one this time, mind you. He deserves happiness. And so do you."
"Where is he?"
"Who, Tav?"
"Yes, Tav," Astarion hissed. "Where? Where did he go?"
"Toward town, thataway." Karlach pointed. "Said he had something to buy for this evening." She winked at him again. "New underwear, more like."
An icy dread settled in Astarion's stomach. 'They've gone to buy the amulet. Or a potion. Something to warp Them into a shape They think I'll want.'
"No …" he heard himself whisper in horror. It struck him like a thunderbolt, how awful it would be, how great an insult to Tav's perfection, to even temporarily change Them in so intimate a way. It would be an abomination against nature. A mutilation more horrible than the bullfighting ring, but even more so because it was done to please someone else's sexual palate.
"Star–" Karlach said to his back as he bolted off down the path.
Author's Note:
Apologies to everyone waiting for an update to my Doom or Gears of War stories: I have to get this vampire out of my head first!
You know how it is ...