Running Out
Astarion fanfic. No pairings, no content warnings. Please enjoy :3
Masterlist
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Not quite a roaring, all-consuming forest fire. Instead, the dim flicker of hot ember clinging to candle wick. The pale vampire, with his skin warmed by the sun.
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Trapped.
Wedged at the chokehold centre of an hourglass, feeling the sand slip between his fingers too fast; so fast that he hasn't any time to count the remaining grains.
+
They've made tracks now, progress. Rivington, then the lower city of Baldur's gate. Home. It petrifies him.
His boots crunch on uneven terrain, roguish reflexes saving him from a haphazard branch to the face more than once.
"Is the promise of reunion troubling you, Astarion?" Tav asks, skirting around a splintered wheel on the path, long separated from its wagon. He pauses, only a moment too long to project any real sense of ease in his voice.
"Of course not," he scoffs, "I'm certainly interested in what's in store for us. Blood, brawls, death. If anything, I'm positively giddy with anticipation!"
His toothy grin fools his friend very little. Tav humours him anyway, the concern in their eye clocked by both of them but acknowledged by neither.
+
"Gods it feels good to be back home! I'd almost forgotten what city alleys even looked like," Karlach beams, completely immersed in what was to most citizens a perfectly mundane day. She bumps the lid off an oozing fish barrel of questionable freshness. Her eyebrows knit together in quick response, "Whoa, didn't quite miss some of the smells though."
Tav looks sideways at Astarion, keen to catch a mischievous eye, an unspoken jest. Instead they catch a glimpse of him staring, blank-faced and open-eyed at the bustling streets. An older human man carefully counts out copper coins for a wedge of cheese to accompany the Arabellan Dry in his rucksack. A unaccompanied gaggle of elven children rush through oncoming citizens, dirty-faced and smiling wildly; they duck and weave between bodies, playing a game that looks more confusing than fun. A young tiefling couple sit closely together on a granite bench. The taller girl shyly grasps the hand of the other, who herself nervously holds a slightly wilted poppy bloom in her other shaking fist.
Alive.
In the day time, the space is filled with life.
Sunlight, gentle as a caress, bathes Astarion in a pale golden light. It suits him. He can see his home in a light unseen in two hundred years. Only this time, the world can see him back.
"Chaos, isn't it?" Tav says lightly, leaving a conversational door open to break the tension. They can see his wonder, they can sense his longing.
"It," he surveys the streets again, "it looks so different in the day time. I'd nearly forgotten." His voice is slightly flat, distracted.
Neither of them speak. They share in a brief, quiet moment, as if another word might snuff out the sun itself.
"Come on daydreamers, it's time we get a move on," Gale, ever the wordy wizard, breaks their silent spell in his approach, "I'm also having a terrifically difficult time keeping track of Karlach. I think the waging war between mind and stomach has finally come to a close."
Astarion sighs with dramatic vigour, "I suppose you're right. We've a lot on our plates already, let's not add hungry raging barbarian to that list."
The three of them make haste, only barely glimpsing the tip of Karlach's tail rounding a corner towards the Elfsong.
Drunken chatter grows louder as they reach the tavern doors. Astarion is the last at the entrance, stopping halfway in the doorframe. He looks over his shoulder once more at the city, his city, draped in light. The hum of conversation fades into static as he allows the sun to dust over his face once more. As far as events in taverns usually go, he doesn't expect they'll be out before sundown.
The warmth across his cold cheeks sparks something within him. Not quite a roaring, all-consuming forest fire. Instead, the dim flicker of hot ember clinging to candle wick. The pale vampire, with his skin warmed by the sun.
He hears his friends call out for him, pulling him away from himself once more. He feels the weight of the sand in the hourglass grow lighter, less and less and less. He can't be certain how much is left in the top, how far he and his companions have to go before it's all over.
Astarion finally moves his gaze towards the bar. Gale is regaling stories of almost-bar brawls gone right to an amused Tav. His animated arm movements punctuate every sentence. Tav catches his eye and beckons him to join, gesturing towards Karlach with a nod. She's sitting opposite a sweating dwarf, his face bloated with alcohol. An impressive stack of beer mugs lay at their feet as they play an unidentifiable drinking game. By the determined look on Karlach's face, and the concerning sway of her balance, it seems neither of them are winning.
He laughs, then. A genuine chuckle that gives him the last push he needs to close the door behind him. It's still there though, that warmth. A gentle, fond flame, small as a grain of sand. It radiates from somewhere in his undead chest. He's found, it seems, light that even the inevitable shadow of night can't extinguish.
Even though there may not be much time left, here, for now, that's enough for him.
-end-
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ tani talking time yippee. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
11/5/24 AM
first bit of writing on this blog shitting myself with nervousness
just gotta take the plunge and upload
if you see this (meaning you probably read to the end, or skipped down to see how long this was) thanks for visiting :3
I might come back and edit this if I feel particularly motivated. this was very much a spur of the moment musing very quickly inspired by art I saw on my dash. I haven't written in such a long time, it's like stretching a really stiff muscle
anyway that's all I hope you enjoyed <3
