How did callums and astarions first meeting go? sorry, I’m just a sucker for asty boy with kids
I saw this ask in my inbox and knew I wanted to write it out. Tho I intended to make this a little blurb instead of a long mess lol. In the end, this thing kinda got away from me
Astarion makes some assumptions and you know what they say when you assume things.
…
“Astarion? Is … that really you?”
Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t have returned. Maybe he should leave. It’s been almost a year since the wedding and they last saw each other. What if she’s upset? What if she hates him for avoiding her for so long? He was avoiding her, except he doesn’t want to know he’s avoiding her.
Unfortunately for the vampire, all of his other friends have mentioned how much she asks about him. He’s been able to brush it off for months, ignore the urge to see her—and the love he still carried for her— but a foolish flame of hope has reignited in his heart. If Tav’s asking for him, perhaps he still has a chance. It’s a sign from the gods he stopped praying to centuries ago that maybe it’s still a possibility.
So here he is, on her stoop, feeling like an idiot. Too late to back out now.
He puts on a sharp toothed grin and gives her a bow. “In the flesh.”
Her eyes drink in everything, from his impeccably styled hair, to his blood red eyes, the bite marks peeking out from the collar of his shirt, and those laugh lines used to tease him about. He’s usually comfortable in the spotlight, but under her scrutiny, he’s horribly self-conscious. Tav has always been able to see right through him, whether he liked it or not. Except, of course, in the matter of the romantic feelings he harbors. He was never sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
Astarion breaks the silence. “Kobold got your tongue? Or has my sheer beauty left you speechless?”
His words seem to snap the druid from her reverie then she all but jumps on him for a hug. “Where have you been? I thought you were dead!”
He relaxes into the embrace. Gods, he missed being this close to her. “Technically, Tav, I’m already dead.”
She abruptly shoves him away, anger splayed across her face. “That’s not funny. I was worried, Astarion. I sent letters and you never sent any back. I couldn’t tell if the others were telling the truth when they said they’ve seen you, or lying to make me feel better.”
If only she knew the reason behind his lack of appearance. “My deepest apologies. I was busy dealing with a horde of ravenous vampire spawn.”
That seems to mollify her. Tav plants her hands on her hips and waggles a finger at him. “I understand, but if you can’t visit, at least write.”
“Fair enough,“ he concedes. “I’ll try to find time in my schedule.”
Content that she got her point across, Tav smiles and crosses her arms. “Thank you.” Then she steps aside and cocks her head past the entryway. “Come on in. I have something important to tell you.”
The last time she had to tell him something important, she announced her upcoming nuptials. At least not much else can top the heartbreak that wrought.
Unless …
No. No, someone definitely would’ve told him if she’s … His eyes drop to her middle. Absolutely not. He refuses to believe it. Damnit, he never should’ve come to see her. He never should’ve let himself hope.
Her better half walks into the foyer. “Tav, I can’t find my—” He stops when he spots the third wheel. “Oh. We have company.”
Astarion detests the man on principle, but he is Tav’s spouse so he’ll play nice. “Pardon my intrusion, Terrick.” He holds out a hand. “Astarion Ancunin. I’m—”
“One of my wife’s former allies. Yes, I recall our introduction at the wedding.” His eyes flicker to the bite marks on Astarion’s neck. His expression eludes to nothing, whether he was aware of his vampiric condition until now or had previous knowledge. He steps closer to Tav and puts a hand on her waist. “Welcome to our home.”
He retracts the offered hand. “It’s quite lovely,” he says, voice honey drenched. “Which is surprising. During our travels, her tent was always filled with trinkets and mementos from our adventures.”
Terrick arches an eyebrow. “I’m not one for clutter.”
Astarion shrugs. “A little clutter won’t do any harm.” He makes eye contact with Tav. “Each souvenir is associated with a happy memory.” She smiles and it feels like a small victory.
Terrick changes the subject. “I can’t find my blue doublet.”
Tav snickers. “You lost it a month ago.”
He purses his lips, displeased with the answer. “Ah. That slipped my mind.” He walks past them, heading for the steps that lead to the pathway. “Then I need another made.”
“If I could make a suggestion. Figaro’s shop—”
Terrick shakes his head. “Shops in the Lower City are of poor quality.”
Tav clasps her hands behind her back. “Actually, his clothes are very high quality and he offers a hefty discount.” They did save him from a murderous dwarf.
The man’s whole body palpitates. “Do I look like I require a discount?”
“No, but—”
He cuts her off. “We’ll discuss it later.” Astarion’s hand is on the hilt of his knife. He could throw it and have it land right between the eyes in two seconds flat. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up. Goodnight.” He makes sure to lock eyes with the vampire one more time. “Astarion,” he spits.
He has to hold back a sneer. “Terrick.” And he walks off into the night. Astarion glowers as they watch him disappear around the corner. “Charming, he is.”
“I didn't marry him for his personality.” Her tone is dry and flat, almost bored. “He’s gotten a bit moodier since the wedding though. Moreso recently.”
A scary thought comes to mind. There’s no subtle way of asking, so he just asks. “He doesn’t … hurt you, does he?” He waits for the slightest confirmation of abuse. Cazador’s death will look like child’s play by comparison if he has to hunt him down.
She swats the air. “No. Terrick huffs and puffs for show. As long as he funds the repairs and my projects, it’s fine.” But then her face softens. “But thanks for the concern.”
First comes the relief, followed by annoyance. He’s relieved no harm has come to the woman he loves, annoyed he doesn’t have reason to hate the man—more reason. That’s too bad. “Now that your loving husband has left the premises, what is it that you wanted to tell me?”
Her eyes light up with manic glee. “Oh yes!” Tav leads him inside, to the closest armchair and sits him down. “Wait here.”
Without another word, she hurries off, leaving behind a curious Astarion. So … perhaps he was worried for nothing. He was jumping to conclusions, coming up with worst case scenarios. Tav’s not going to tell him she’s with child. She doesn’t love Terrick. She’s admitted that on several occasions even before the wedding.
“Close your eyes!”
He does as he’s told. “Ooh, did you slip into something more comfortable?”
She stomps a foot. “If my arms weren’t full, I’d chuck something at you. Are your eyes closed?”
Her arms are full. Does she have a present for him? “Yes, dear.”
He hears her approach. “No peeking.” He holds his hands above his head, twirls them a couple times, and covers his eyes. Not long after that, he feels her presence just ahead of him. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Open your eyes.”
When he opens his eyes, his heart shatters into a million pieces. Swathed in a bundle of blankets, is exactly as he feared; a baby. A shock of blue hair. Topaz eyes. Pointed ears. Freckles sprinkled on the apples of his cheeks and across his button nose. Pale skin, though not nearly as pale as the vampire’s.
Tav bounces and sways in place. “Astarion, I’d like you to meet my son.” The mother is sporting the biggest and brightest grin he’s ever witnessed. “Callum.”
The words echo in his mind. Meet my son. They have a son. Tav and Terrick have a child together. Those two will forever be connected through this child and there is nothing Astarion can do to sever that bond. He’s not so selfish to wish for an unhappy marriage. The innocent soul brought into this world by the woman he loves doesn’t deserve that. He deserves his real father, not a man with fantasies of coveting his mother.
What honestly hurts most is the betrayal from his friends, if he can even call them that at this point. They knew, but elected to say nothing when they fussed at him for keeping away. Worse yet, she also chose not to tell him in any of the letters she sent. He never wrote back, but he read them all.
With the betrayal comes a fierce jealousy. He envies Terrick. Not for the intimacy of creating a child, but the bond a child brings. Astarion never fathomed fatherhood, never entertained the thought, not even after taking down his former master. He’s only just attained his freedom. It’s too soon to settle down, let alone start a family, if that was even possible for a vampire spawn. Now though, seeing the joy her son brings her, he would’ve been willing to try for her. He could picture himself with a child, their child, if that is what she asked of him. What would they look like? Like he used to before transforming into a creature of the night?
The baby voice she’s using is both nauseating and adorable. “Callum, this is one of my very best friends, Astarion,” she coos. “Say hi.”
“He’s …” Terrick’s. And Tav’s. “Beautiful, Tav.”
“Isn’t he?” she gushes. “You’re the first to see him. Gale and Wyll just barely missed it, but left before he came.”
He bows his head. “An honor, truly. And I must say, you look amazing for a woman who recently gave birth.”
She jerks her head back. “I’m sorry, what?”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I mean no offense, my darling.”
Tav opens her mouth, shuts it, opens it again then bursts out laughing. She speaks between peels of laughter. “There has been … a misunderstanding … a huge misunderstanding.”
He frowns. The vampire is missing something, clearly. What is he missing? Is there somehow another child? Does Callum have a twin? “What?”
She reaches over and flicks his forehead. “I didn’t have him. Callum is adopted.”
There’s a prolonged silence of Astarion gawking up at Tav. “Adopted?” he parrots.
“Yes, adopted.” She perches herself on the edge of a table in front of the armchair. “I’m sorry, I thought it was obvious.”
He slaps his hands on the wooden handles. “How was it obvious?”
“Callum looks absolutely nothing like me. Or Terrick.” She lowers her head so her hair falls in the baby’s face. “Notice the difference in hair color.”
What would it take for a giant hole to appear in the ground and swallow him up? “What was I supposed to say when you tell me he’s your son? Oh wow, he doesn’t have your hair, eyes, nose, or complexion. Neither your husband’s. Do you have a mistress?” Astarion. Astarion would like to throw his hat in the ring if the position is open.
That makes her laugh even harder. “No! Oh my gods, Astarion. You thought I hid an entire pregnancy?” He’s too embarrassed to say anything. “You know Karlach can’t keep secrets. Not when they’re not life or death. She’s the reason we found out about Lae’zel and Shadowheart.” She blushes and avert her eyes. “And me and Halsin.”
Many emotions are coursing through him and he’s not sure which to process first. Callum is Tav and Terrick’s child, but not in the same sense he assumed previously. Blood relations are irrelevant. Though. He’s still their child. It must be a druid thing. Jaheira has a house in the Lower City, though he wouldn’t call her mother of the year. Halsin has been taking in some strays as well. What does that mean for Tav? Will she and Terrick continue to adopt more children?
He allows himself a half-hearted guffaw. “I forgot you and the bear rolled around in the leaves.”
Tav shudders. “I have no desire to have a child with Terrick. Even when we—” There’s an implied sleep together Astarion would prefer not to acknowledge. It conjures some images he’d rather not think about. “I don’t want children with him.”
He could drop to his knees, throw up his arms, and shout his praises to the gods right now. “There’s no need. You have the perfect child right here.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” She stands back up, beaming. “Would you like to hold him?”
He really should’ve seen this coming, but he didn’t. “Oh, uh, is it safe? Babies are fragile little things. I don’t want to, er, break him.” He sits as far back in the chair as he can, hands tucked underneath his thighs.
She slides over to one side of the chair. “Please?”
“I don’t know, darling.”
“Pretty please?” It’s difficult to turn her down while staring into those wide, trusting eyes. And then there was the baby. Eventually he gives in, holds up his hands with a deadpan expression on his face. Tav smirks. “Fix your arms.”
Ten seconds later, he’s holding an infant for the first time in two centuries of undead life. He peers down at the little boy. He’s probably wondering who the hells is this monster holding me? Astarion has no idea what to say besides an awkward, “Hello.”
One Callum’s hands break from the blankets and finds its way to lightly smack Astarion’s cheek. It doesn’t hurt really, but then he does it a couple more times. When he tries to stop the low level attack, Callum grabs one of his fingers and tugs as hard as his little body can manage.
Oh.
He’s only had Callum for ten seconds, but if anything were to happen to him, he would massacre everyone along the Sword Coast and then himself.