It's been quite a while since the last update, but I'm happy that I was finally able to finish this chapter and get it out of my head. 😊 I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading!
Summary:
Talin and Astarion arrive in Silverymoon, a city known for its magic. They find the AncunÃn estate and finally meet Astarion's parents, where they learn the truth about his forgotten past.
Talin's loud gasp filled the air as soon as she stepped out of their carriage and set foot on the smooth flagstones. Her eyes widened in astonishment as they swept across the area around them, a wondrous blend of white polished stone and gleaming marble.
"The gem of the North," she uttered, barely audible as if she was almost out of breath. "It's breathtaking, Astarion. It's more beautiful than I imagined."
Astarion followed closely behind, but he, too, wasn't immune to the city's sheer beauty and its soaring slender towers, elegant townhouses, and charming shops lining the streets.
"I agree. It truly is magnificent."
Silverymoon rose gracefully along the Rauvin River, dividing it into the North and South Banks—two distinct districts, each formidable in its own way. The city itself pulsed with life and diversity. Elves, dwarves, and humans moved about, and the very air around it hummed with subtle magical energy, as though the city itself breathed enchantment.
"It's the center of magic," Talin murmured, her voice soft but tinged with admiration. Her hand brushed the edge of a marble statue as she paused to take in the majestic buildings and elegant bridges. "I can feel its aura…"
Astarion stopped beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. His crimson eyes flicked from the city to her, amazed by the way her entire face lit up with amazement. "You know," he said, his voice teasing yet surprisingly gentle, "I think I can feel it too. Or maybe it's just you."
Talin glanced back at him and smiled, and Astarion placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
Her excitement spiked again, as her attention was drawn to the river below and she pointed eagerly. "Look! There. That must be the famous Moonbridge. They say it's made entirely of magic and can even withstand a dragon."
Astarion followed her gesture, his brow furrowing as he stared at the seemingly empty space above the water. "Impressive. But I don't see anything," he remarked, tilting his head.
"That's because it's revealed only by moonlight," she explained. "We should come at night, I must see how this magic works," Talin explained, then took out a map from her purse and unfolded it in the air, the edges fluttering slightly in the cool breeze. "According to this map, I think we need to head north of the river. The noble residences should be there. But let's ask for directions just to be sure."
Finding the House of AncunÃn proved to be an easy task when you knew the right questions to ask—and had the right amount of coin to part with. Talin approached a nearby merchant stall and asked the vendor about the AncunÃn family and where they could find them. The vendor, a jovial elf with a keen eye for opportunity, was more than willing to assist them, for a price, of course.
"House AncunÃn, eh?" he said, squinting as if trying too hard to remember. "Yes, I can help you find the house, but it will cost you."
Astarion's crimson eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a threatening smirk, as he leaned ever so slightly toward the merchant, a hand resting near his hip where his daggers were. "Oh, I'm sure it will. Or how about I loosen your tongue for free?" His voice, instead of the usual velvety smooth, now had a low and dangerous tone.
The elf froze, his cheerful demeanor fading in an instant as he caught the sharpness in Astarion's tone. "N-Now, now, there's no need for threats! I was just—"
Then Talin's voice cut through the tension, firm but calm. "No, no. There is no need for that." She stepped between the merchant and Astarion, placing a hand on his chest and gently but insistently pushing him back. "We're not here to loosen people's tongues." She glanced up at him, her eyes demanding restraint.
For a moment, Astarion hesitated, his features softening slightly as he met her gaze. With a reluctant sigh, he took a step back.
Talin turned back to the merchant, pulling a few gold coins from her purse and setting them on the counter. "Here—this should be more than enough to cover your assistance."
The merchant, visibly relaxed now, was happy to provide the information once he pocketed the coins. "Thank you, my lady. Now, let me mark the location for you." He took her map, his hands still a little shaky, and pointed out the eastern side of the Northbank. Knowing all the shortcuts, he also showed them the quickest route to that part of the city. "Look for the big iron gates with the sword and shield symbol, encircled by stars—it's hard to miss. Fine folk, the AncunÃns. They care for the city."
"Thank you," Talin said with a warm smile, folding the map and tucking it away. She shot Astarion a brief, annoyed look as they walked away from the stall.
"What?" Astarion asked, feigning innocence as he fell into step beside her. "He was clearly taking advantage of your kindness. Someone had to remind him of his manners."
Talin adjusted her purse. "I know. He was just trying to make an extra coin. I don't blame him, I would've done the same if I were him. Just keep your hands away from the daggers until absolutely necessary."
"Well, that's not fun," Astarion protested teasingly.
"We're not supposed to draw attention to ourselves, Astarion," she countered. "Aren't you the one who always insists on that?"
He chuckled softly, tilting his head in contemplation. "Huh, you learn quickly," he said with satisfaction, pleased that she'd paid attention. Yet he couldn't resist teasing her about her lavish appearance. "And yet here you are, in an unfamiliar city, overdressed again."
Talin flicked her hand dismissively, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She had long since caught on to his game. "A lady should always look her best. After all, we're meeting your parents," she replied airily.
Astarion's smirk softened, and he hung back, letting her lead the way so he could enjoy the view before him for a moment.
They followed the instructions from the merchant and reached the estate soon enough. As they approached the gates, a tall, stern-faced guard stopped them. "Halt! State your business here." He eyed them suspiciously, his hand at the ready, resting on the pommel of his sword. However, he did not seem to show any sign of hostility towards them and maintained a calm but assertive posture.
Talin lowered the hood of her capelet as she stepped toward the guards, revealing her face in full. She cleared her throat and confidently introduced herself, offering a charming smile to the guard that stopped them. "I'm Talin of House Elaran," she said, extending a hand toward the guard and exposing the ring with the Elaran family symbol on her finger. "I've come a long way from Baldur's Gate to seek an audience with the AncunÃns."
Raising an eyebrow, the guard replied, "Baldur's Gate, you say?" He did not recognize the symbol but knew it was a legitimate claim since noble families often had their symbols engraved on jewelry, apart from armor and banners or tapestry.
"That is correct," she replied, noticing how immediately the guard's attention shifted to Astarion, his eyes flitting from head to toe but mostly focusing on his weapons.
"And your companion?" the guard asked.
Sensing the scrutiny, she realized that because of the masked armor and the weapons Astarion could be seen as problem or a threat in the guards eyes, so she had to react quickly before his suspicion grew. "This is my bodyguard, a mercenary hired for protection. A lady like me can never be too careful, considering the prevalence of bandits on the road, especially when I bring information of great importance. I'm sure you'd agree." She kept smiling warmly at the guard, feigning frailty.
The guard eyed Astarion again, clearly expecting a bodyguard to be some burly warrior clad in heavy armor, not some rogue with a lean frame and such an air of finesse. Still, he seemed convinced by Talin's small frame and earnest demeanor that Astarion was indeed her hired protector, so he relaxed his stance slightly. "You don't look the part, but I suppose you are quick and lethal with those blades." Then he turned back to Talin and asked, narrowing his eyes slightly, "And what information would that be that you bring, my lady?"
"That is for the Lord and Lady AncunÃn's ears only. I'm afraid I cannot share a matter of utmost discretion with a guard."
Astarion kept quiet all the time, as Talin had instructed. He observed the conversation carefully, putting all his trust in Talin's eloquence and her charisma.
The guard grunted, then took a moment to study them further before reluctantly allowing them to enter the estate. "Alright, come with me. I must inform the Lord and the Lady of your arrival." He turned and headed towards the mansion, keeping a wary eye on them.
Once they were in the grand hall, the guard told them to wait and gestured to the other guards to watch the guests closely before he disappeared through the hallways.
"This is it, we're almost there. How are you holding up?" Talin asked.
"I'm fine... for now."
"Remember, whatever happens, I'm right here."
While they were standing there, Astarion's eyes circled the grand hall, taking in the tapestries, the statues, the artwork. But the place remained as foreign to him as any other noble estate.
The tap of footsteps on marble snapped him out of his observation. The guard returned to the hall and approached Astarion. "Your bodyguard will have to surrender his weapons, my lady, before I can let you in," he said, and two other guards followed carrying a medium-sized chest.
"Some bodyguard without weapons," Talin teased but gave the guard an agreeable nod.
Astarion looked at the guard and hesitated, but he knew it was better to comply than to cause any trouble. He removed his blades from their sheaths, unfastened his crossbows, detached the bolt quiver, and placed the weapons carefully inside the chest.
"And the dagger in your boots," the guard demanded, looking intently at Astarion, almost not blinking.
Astarion groaned, rolling his eyes, and pulled a small dagger from his boot and tossed it into the chest.
The guard nodded and gestured for them to follow him. "This way," he said, leading them through a series of hallways and rooms. Finally, they reached the drawing room. The guard pushed open a set of double doors, revealing a man and a woman inside.
The moment they entered the room, Talin's attention was instantly drawn to the woman poised on a high-backed chair. Her once raven-black hair was now slightly streaked with silver and pulled back in a crown braid. Even with her slender form, one could discern a very subtle definition of muscle beneath the stylish gown she was wearing. Her facial features were remarkably similar to Astarion's. It was like looking at an older, feminine version of him, with the same high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and an extremely familiar gaze. While Astarion's eyes were red, hers were a striking green. The man stood tall and handsome near the fireplace, dressed in rich and elegant velvet robes. His silver hair was neatly combed back.
Both turned their attention to Talin and Astarion as they entered, their eyes appraising. Astarion's stomach turned, and he felt a cold knot forming in his gut. He didn't recognize these people, nor this place. He had hoped seeing their faces would stir old memories, but there was nothing—just an empty void threatening to consume him. He swallowed hard as he fought to still himself. He nearly froze in place but, grateful for the mask that not only concealed his face but hid his emotions too, managed to continue moving stiffly behind Talin.
The woman watched them carefully as they approached, and the man also eyed them with narrowed eyes. Of course, they had not recognized Talin and expected their visitor to be a little older, since they presumed their guests were here on official business. Though visibly surprised by her youth, they maintained their courteous demeanor.
"You must be Talin and her companion," the man said, extending a hand to them. "I am Lord Lucian, and this is my wife, Adriana."
Talin approached them slowly and politely and took the offered hand, while Astarion just bowed his head. Even though she had experience in diplomacy and charming people, her heart was racing. She knew she had to handle this very carefully without risking being thrown out of the estate. The woman's piercing gaze and her striking resemblance to Astarion made her very nervous—a novel feeling for her.
"Lord AncunÃn, Lady AncunÃn," she began in a respectful, yet firm tone, bowing slightly. "I greatly appreciate your willingness to see me on such short notice," she said. "As your guard has surely informed you, I've come a long way from Baldur's Gate to speak with you."
The woman's cheek twitched a little at the mention of the city. "Indeed. Though I'm curious to hear what brings you all this way to Silverymoon," she replied, offering a polite smile. "We were not expecting any diplomats or ambassadors from the Gate. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
Talin laughed softly and waved her hand charmingly. "You flatter me, my lady, but I'm not the city's representative. I'm simply its citizen coming on my own behalf, bringing information regarding personal matters that concern your family."
"I see," the woman said, her eyebrows raising slightly. "But there's something else about you—an aura. I can sense it. What are you, some kind of witch then?"
"Shit," Astarion thought to himself, his eyes flicking anxiously. He prayed silently that Talin would not overreact to this. He knew the things that could throw her off balance, and any disrespect to her magic abilities was one of them and sure to provoke a strong reaction.
Talin raised an eyebrow, mildly offended by the notion. "I can understand why you would say that, but I assure you I'm no witch. I'm a sorcerer," she clarified, holding her head proudly as a subtle smug smile appeared on her lips.
"And you think that's a better answer, child?" the woman replied, her form unwavering. Even in a sitting position she exuded an aura of authority, an unmistakable sense of power honed by years of command and almost daring the younger woman in front of her to step out of line. Because of their unpredictable nature, sorcerers were often met with suspicion and mistrust throughout Faerûn, and Talin knew that. But this wasn't it. There was something different in Adriana's voice than the usual prejudice—a mixture of fear and spite.
"Whether it's better or not, it doesn't change the fact of what I am," Talin replied firmly, meeting Adriana's gaze without a flicker of intimidation. "Your venom is better directed somewhere else. I have not come to cause trouble or debate my nature. I simply want to talk."
"Talin, stay calm," Astarion muttered under his breath. The woman turned to him, startled by his voice as if suddenly a mute person had spoken for the first time. Even though his words were barely audible, something about his voice struck a familiar chord, drawing her attention toward him almost instantly. "I don't believe I caught your name," she said, her eyes narrowing.
Astarion met her gaze for a fraction of a second before lowering his eyes. He fidgeted uncomfortably under the woman's blazing gaze, then looked at Talin, unsure if he should answer or not, if she actually recognized his voice. His hands itched for the familiar grip of his blades which he had to surrender earlier. Fortunately, Talin seized the opportunity presenting itself.
"My protector is not being paid for chitchat. He'll speak only when I permit it." She gave him a sharp, reassuring nod. "Please, my lady, hear me out first. Afterward, I will allow my bodyguard to answer any questions you may have."
The woman gave the man beside her an uncertain look. He nodded, and then Lady AncunÃn gestured toward the plush chairs arranged around a low round table. "Then sit. Let us hear what brings you to our door. And pray it justifies the intrusion."
Talin thanked them and sat in the nearest chair as Astarion took his position beside her, maintaining the guise of the dutiful bodyguard she had devised.
"I apologize for this surprise and unannounced visit," Talin began, her voice soft, sincere, and almost sad. "We've been through a great deal to find you, and our investigation has brought us here. You deserve to know the truth about your long-lost son, Astarion."
"Our son has been deceased for two hundred years. There's nothing else you can tell us."
"I have the truth about his death. I might be a sorcerer, but I don't need sorcery to see it in your eyes that you always knew there was more to it. And I believe you'll recognize this." She extended her hand, revealing the pin she had found in Cazador's palace.
"His pin... He was buried with that. Where did you find it? Tell me, girl!" his mother demanded.
Talin's answer came swiftly. "I found it in one of Baldur's Gate's patriarchs' palace." She wanted to explain as quickly as she could, sensing that the situation might get out of control, but she certainly did not anticipate Adriana's next words. "But I can—"
"Cazador..." Adriana breathed, her face draining of color as the name passed through her lips like a curse she'd hoped never to utter again.
"What? You know him?" Astarion's voice interrupted suddenly, and the woman turned to face him once again.
"Of course. I'll never forget that name. Who are you?" Then she turned swiftly toward Talin. "You said your bodyguard wasn't paid for chitchat, yet he keeps speaking out of turn. What is really going on here?"
"I can't take this any longer. I'm sorry, Talin." Unable to pretend any longer, Astarion's hands moved to remove his helmet.
"No, wait!" Talin urged with evident concern.
The black haired woman stood up and staggered backward behind the chair. "What?... No, this... this cannot be. What sorcery is this? Necromancy?"
"It's no sorcery," Talin was quick to explain, raising her voice a bit before the situation got out of hand. Then she paused and looked the other woman in the eyes sincerely, continuing in a softer tone. "And I think you can sense there's no magic involved here."
Adriana, frozen in disbelief, gaped at Astarion for a brief moment. Once she gathered enough courage, she took a hesitant step forward, and the man beside her took her by her arm.
"Careful, Adriana. We buried our son. We saw it with our own eyes! We don't know who these people are." He seemed more reluctant than the woman and not entirely convinced.
The woman wriggled out of her husband's grasp and gave him a reassuring squeeze of the hand. "No, Lucian. I sense no magic at work here. No illusion." She moved warily toward Astarion, trembling from dismay. Her shaking became even more noticeable as she tried to reach out to touch his face. "It truly is you," she said with a soft laugh between words and tears welling up in her eyes. "And you look exactly as I remember you. But how? Why? Why has it taken you two centuries to come back to us?" She took a moment to gaze into his eyes. "And your eyes..."
Her touch made him flinch, but he managed to force the words past the lump in his throat. "It's a long story. I'm not the same person I was before," he replied. "Tell me what you know. About my death. About Cazador, please."
The woman's face crumpled, her emerald eyes brimming with tears on the brink of spilling down her cheeks. "He was a sorcerer—a powerful one. His magic was unlike anything I'd ever known. Dark, unnatural. He poisoned your mind with promises of power and influence... everything a young man desires. Then one day they brought grim news of the Gur attack."
Astarion swayed slightly, and the world spun around him. His gut started twisting in anger, disgust, confusion—an emotional turmoil that churned within him. He fought back the urge to throw up and steadied himself before he spoke again.
"He was more than that. He was a vampire lord—a monster. I was left to bleed out on the street that night when the Gur beat me to death. And in that moment of despair, Cazador appeared, offering me salvation. From that fateful encounter, I became his vampire spawn, bound to his will. He made sure that I couldn't remember anything from my past or act on my own free will. I have no recollection of you."
Both the man and woman's eyes widened in disbelief. They stared at him, their faces pale with shock and horror.
"No, I can't believe this. My poor boy," Adriana spoke as she cupped Astarion's face, a fresh wave of tears flowing freely, tracing wet paths down her cheeks. "My only son... He should pay for all the suffering he has caused us."
A realization struck Astarion's father as he witnessed everything. "But how are you here? Surely, he would have..."
"He's dead. I killed him and now I'm free of his control," Astarion explained. "To him, I was nothing but a means to an end, a wretched toy to be sacrificed in his vile ritual of ascension. If not for Talin and our friends to help me get free of him, I would have been consumed."
"Gods above!" his father exclaimed, recoiling in horror and disbelief.
Adriana, unable to contain her emotions any longer, pulled Astarion into a loving embrace. "My little star," she sobbed, her tears staining his armor. "You've come back to me. It's all that matters now."
Astarion, after a moment of hesitation, finally surrendered to his mother's hug and tentatively wrapped his arms around her. It felt like remembering a forgotten melody, a comforting warmth he hadn't felt in centuries. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her perfume, and finally allowed himself to be held. His father joined them, his arms enveloping them both, completing the circle.
Standing a few steps away, Talin's throat tightened as she watched the reunion. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them back, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at her lips.
After a few moments, the embrace loosened, and Adriana stepped back, still holding Astarion at arm's length. He could still feel her hands shaking as they rested on his shoulders. Her eyes scanned his face as if searching for traces of the boy she once knew. "You truly don't remember me and your father? Or any of this? Your training?" she asked.
"No, I'm sorry," he replied softly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Adriana's expression faltered as he spoke, and he could see the disappointment flickering in her eyes for the briefest moment before she composed herself. She let out a shaky breath, offering him a soft smile. "That's alright," she said. "We'll take it one step at a time."
"And what did you mean by training?" Astarion asked.
"Come. I have something to show you. Maybe it will jog your memory."
"I should give you some space," Talin interrupted gently, sensing the weight of the moment. "You have a lot to catch up on."
Astarion's fingers closed around her hand as she tried to step away. "No," he whispered, his voice hushed but firm. "I want you here."
Talin nodded, expressing her understanding with a gentle squeeze of his hand.
"This way." While Adriana led them down the corridor, her pace slowed as she turned to Talin. "So, young lady, is your name truly Talin from House Elaran?"
Talin smiled politely, falling into step beside her. "That part is true. I am from Baldur's Gate. And I'm sorry about the other deception. Surely you can understand why I did that."
Adriana smiled, offering a gentle nod of understanding. "You brought our son back to us—that's all that matters." It was clear to her that this woman from Baldur's Gate was more than just a traveling companion to her son, though she had yet to find out about her role in her son's life.
"I can't take all the credit," Talin replied sincerely. "I merely aided Astarion in his quest."
"Regardless," she insisted, "we owe you a debt of gratitude we could never repay." She paused shortly before asking the question that had been troubling her. "But tell me—are you truly a sorcerer?"
Talin hesitated, glancing briefly at Astarion. "Yes, I am," she admitted, surprised by her own voice, which sounded less confident for a moment. She noticed Adriana's disapproval of her answer, but this time the woman simply nodded and continued leading them through the estate.
As they reached the end of the hall, Adriana opened the large door, revealing a room that seemed frozen in time. The air inside was cool and faintly perfumed with lavender, even though no one had lived there for two centuries. Every detail of the room was pristine—velvet drapes, silken pillows, and a collection of books, trinkets, magical artifacts, and trophies neatly arranged on the shelves. It almost felt as if it was enchanted to remain untouched by time.
"This was—is your room," Adriana said as she entered the room, her voice soft but carrying a deep undercurrent of emotion. "Even after two centuries, we refused to let go of your memory and kept it just as you left it."
Astarion stepped inside hesitantly, like a stray puppy being welcomed into a home for the first time. As he stepped forward, his gaze swept over the familiar yet foreign space. He trailed his fingers across the edge of a desk scattered with quills, ink bottles, and documents. He paused at a small, worn quill that rested there and a half-completed letter that appeared to be addressing a commanding officer. His eyes fell on another set of shelves beside the desk, filled with scrolls and tomes about military tactics and arcane warfare. Then his brow furrowed slightly. "Lavender," he murmured, subtly inhaling the faint scent.
"Yes, you loved it. So I made sure it always smelled of lavender, to remind me of you," his mother admitted.
He continued exploring the room. A massive war table with miniature models of people, magical creatures, and weaponry stood in the center of the room. The surrounding walls were decorated with banners and insignia of what seemed to be various factions.
Talin's mouth fell open as she gazed around the place, taking in every detail with wide-eyed fascination.
What caught their attention the most was a polished set of ceremonial armor in one of the corners.
"What is all this?" Astarion asked. "That armor—seems familiar somehow."
His mother smiled, finding hope in even this faintest glimmer of recognition from him. Then she picked up a velvet-lined case and opened it in front of Astarion, revealing a gleaming longsword polished to perfection. "This is yours. The armor too," she said, looking at him expectantly to see if it would spark the tiniest familiarity. She offered him the weapon. "Take it. And look closer."
Astarion gazed at the sword for a moment and then reached out, tracing the inscription on the cool blade with his fingertips. Etched into the blade were words in Espruar: Astarion AncunÃn. The Silver Star of Valor. As his fingers closed around the hilt when he picked up the sword, a jolt of unexpected warmth shot up his arm. The world seemed to blur around him for a split second, and a wave of disjointed images and familiar sensations flashed before his eyes. He blinked away the flood of images, startled and disoriented. The sword felt strangely familiar, as if it had always been a part of him. A surge of confidence coursed through his veins, awakening whispers of long-forgotten power within him. Talin remained at his side, giving him the space and time he needed, yet unable to tear her eyes away from him and the sword.
"The sword, it's like it's speaking to me, calling out. But what does this mean?" Astarion asked in all the confusion.
"It's a connection. The bond you've formed with the sword," his mother explained. "It's calling out to you, waiting to be awakened. But you need to remember or… relearn how to summon its power."
"But how? I still don't understand."
"You were so full of promise, Astarion," his father chimed in, his voice tinged with sadness. "You excelled in both martial and magical disciplines, eager to join the ranks of the Knights in Silver, just like your mother and I."
Talin's eyes widened in astonishment, then she frowned, trying to connect the dots. Then suddenly, a realization struck her as she understood the meaning of the sword and the bond. "An Eldritch Knight..."
"Yes, and a protector of the realm," Adriana responded.
Astarion let out a nervous laugh, stammering. "That... that can't be mine," he said, refusing to accept this information as he placed the sword back in its case. "I... I don't even know how to weave magic." Then he fell silent, contemplating his parents' words, and they gave him a moment to take it all in.
It was a lot to take in for Talin too. An Eldritch Knight? A valiant noble warrior wielding both magic and steel? Astarion? It was almost laughable and it all clashed with the cunning, morally ambiguous rogue she always knew. She could feel the weight of the past in the air and Astarion's struggle with this information. Though this was his memory to rediscover, she couldn't help but feel a quiet reverence for the life he'd once had—and the pain of all he had lost.
"What happened then? How did I end up in Baldur's Gate? How did I lose all of this?"
Adriana sighed, her eyes clouding with regret as she looked into his. "Suddenly it was not enough. You decided to pursue a career in politics in Baldur's Gate. You wanted to change things, but that's where... where things took a dark turn."
Astarion's father nodded grimly. "Had you not moved to Baldur's Gate... had that man not slithered into your life..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
"Cazador," Astarion spat. "But why did they... why did the Gur want me dead?"
His mother's expression suddenly hardened. "You offended and humiliated the Gur publicly, Astarion, damaging their reputation," she explained bitterly. "Then you passed a ruling to impose restrictions on their hunting practices within the city limits." Her gaze hardened even further. "I never understood why, but it was all that man's fault," she spat. "Cazador. He manipulated you, twisted your sense of justice and honor, and used you to further his own agenda."
Witnessing his wife's anguish, Astarion's father reacted and enveloped her in his arms. His touch was gentle but firm, offering support and consolation. His embrace seemed to seep into her, providing a momentary respite from the icy grip of her memories.
"We are guardians, Astarion," Lucian added. "Our purpose lies in upholding ideals, not in grasping for personal power. Yet the allure of political influence proved too tempting for you, particularly in a city as complex as Baldur's Gate. You believed shaping laws and policies offered a more impactful path to protect and serve."
Astarion's heart sank. The pieces were slowly falling into place, painting a grim picture of his past. He had been a pawn from the very beginning, a tool in the hands of a monster, and he couldn't even remember. He could not begin to describe the guilt and the shame that he was feeling at that moment.
Talin knew all of this bothered him deeply. She could sense his distress, and she knew her words would offer a small measure of comfort, yet it was the only thing she could do until all the information sank in. "Astarion," she said softly, gently touching his arm, "you were a victim, not a perpetrator."
But the knowledge that he had been used and who knows what else he did as Cazador's pawn left a bitter taste in Astarion's mouth. "You don't know that, Talin," he said. It was a long road to redemption that lay ahead, it would seem.
A heavy silence descended upon the room like a thick blanket, the weight of centuries-old wounds and painful memories pressing down on them all. The air filled with anxiety and anticipation of what would come next, each breath marking the passing moments until finally, Adriana's voice, soft yet clear, broke through the stillness. "You must be weary from your journey, and it's getting late. You could use some time to freshen up," she suggested, her gaze flitting between her son and his petite companion. "Then we could catch up later. There is so much to discuss."
She did not want to be away from Astarion even for a second. Every fiber of her being yearned to stay close to her long-lost son, to make up for decades of separation in mere moments, yet she knew they all needed some time to catch their breath and process the weight of these revelations.
That evening, Talin gave them some space and privacy to catch up and reconnect. She explored the estate and was especially fond of the gardens where she spent most of the time.
And while there were two centuries of unspoken history to catch up on, Astarion preferred to focus on the present and the more pleasant one. His freedom, how their fates with Talin intertwined, and how these past months had been a beacon of light amidst the darkness of his existence.
Later that night, Astarion found Talin in the garden amidst the moon blossoms.
"You're very pretty," she murmured softly, her fingers brushing one of the blossoms.
"Not prettier than you," Astarion's smooth voice came from the shadows.
She turned around abruptly, letting out a relieved sigh when she saw it was just him. "You should really stop sneaking up on me like that," she said, frowning slightly.
He smirked, stepping closer. "And lose my only advantage by letting you hear me coming?" he quipped.
"But, that's not fair. I never hear you coming." Talin shot back.
"No, but it's fun. The way your pulse quickens instantly—it's absolutely delightful," he drawled, his crimson gaze sweeping over her.
Just as she opened her mouth to respond, he leaned in and kissed her. This time, his kiss was hard and demanding from the first touch, making her forget what she was about to say—and she didn't care about that at all. She rose instinctively on her tiptoes, her hand clutching at his chest to anchor herself as he pulled her close against him. His fingers traced along her jaw before tangling in her hair at the nape of her neck as he poured all of his pent-up emotions—the day's discoveries, tensions, and longings—into that single, intense kiss. His hand traced a path down her spine before finding the slit of her robe. His cool touch slipped beneath the fabric, firmly cupping the soft curve of her bottom, drawing a soft gasp from her lips as he pressed her body against his.
It seemed that the power of the sword wasn't the only thing that had awakened that day…