⸻ .✦ 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 for @unknownfaed
𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧. Something deep inside him knew that he was connected to these lands. That's what had drawn him here. He'd had enough of not knowing where he came from and wanted to fill in the gaps. There had to be more to him than his curse and the years of torment he had spent under his vampiric master. He didn't have the right to claim every piece of Astarion.
The border of the Spring Court several days behind him, he had crossed much of the area. He had also avoided the village, unsure about other Fae. In his mind he had stuck to the shadows, which seemed to cling to him even more ever since he had set foot into Prythian, because he didn't trust anybody. But in reality, he was also afraid to find answers. There was comfort in ignorance. If he wasn't aware of the bad, it couldn't hurt him, right?
He had come across some Faeries and didn't mind those. Sometimes they didn't even seem to notice him. And if they did, he never had any encounters that were anything other than curious. Used to life on the road, he was adept at finding spaces to rest. The stitches of his fine, embroidered clothing were coming off here and there and he had made some temporary repairs to ripped fabric. At first glance he could've passed as Fae nobility, but a keen eye would not miss all the little details that exposed him as the rogue he was. None of what he wore was bought, much was stolen.
As golden hour began, he decided he had traveled enough for the day. Since there was some unexplainable familiarity that connected him to this realm, he learned how to navigate it quickly. Knowing that following the tune of nixies would lead him to water, he did just that to fill his waterskin. Not expecting anything worse than maybe the mischiefous bite of a nixie he filled it at a pond. But then, as he crouched at the edge of the water, his head turned quickly.
Astarion had assumed that the High Fae kept to themselves in the village and naively hoped that he didn't need to look over his shoulder for them. But she was definitely not faerie. While he slowly got up, he felt torn between wanting to walk away and to stay. ❝ Oh, hello there, ❞ he put on his usual, charming facade and hid how skeptic he felt about meeting somebody, however beautiful that somebody may be, in the middle of an unknown forest. ❝ What a delightful coincidence. ❞
The longer he looked at her, the more she seemed to belong. Like she was part of this land. And that made it all the more obvious to him that he didn't.
