Hi everyone! This is my very first post, and I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous. But I thought I'd share my first fanfiction! What if Cazador had written a final letter to Astarion? What do you guys think?
Trigger Warning: Abusive behavior.
these are maybe my final words to you, my little spawn. I don’t know if I’ll survive when we meet again. They say you’re nearly at my door, and I hear the malicious gossip, it seems you've grown surprisingly strong, gathering a charming little entourage. Even Gortash is a thorn in my side, so I must act. Today, the ritual begins. But know this my dear: no matter what happens, I will always win. My only failure was letting you escape. Yet, deep down, I’m proud of you, Astarion.
You are like me. No matter how hard you fight it, you are as power-hungry as I am, driven by the same fear of being enslaved again. We both clawed our way to the top. Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt so close to you. I couldn’t break you. Bravo, my little spawn. And I truly did try. Every time I heard your sweet screaming, I heard myself through that filthy mouth of yours, my own screams, my own pleas for mercy. You are a reflection of my past, a twisted reminder of what I lost. You’ve become a key to what remains of my humanity. I got addicted to that feeling. To feel like myself again, you made me feel alive, when I’d thought it was lost to Vellioth. Maybe I got carried away some days, but we all have our good and bad days, don’t we? Can you understand that?
Once, I was someone’s little pet, like you. I was impaled for eleven years—compared to that, my treatment of you was almost… loving, wouldn’t you say? I can’t tolerate anyone above me. Those were Vellioth’s words. This words were for himself, but they apply so damn well.They kept me alive. I wasn’t allowed to love, because love makes you weak. Love makes you vulnerable. Look at your brother and his pathetic attempts to protect his daughter. At the end of it all, he will be alone. As will you, Astarion. Why should we care for others? No one ever cared for us.
Here you are, barely out of the nest, clinging to someone, desperate for protection. But will you ever truly be free? Will you ever trust anyone completely? When I sent those men to you, you thought I saved you. Your naivety was always overwhelming and, dare I say, refreshing. I watched you for so long, knowing you’d make the perfect addition to my collection. Like a piece of art.
It won’t be long before you stand outside my door. Let’s imagine the scenarios: if you kill me and stop the ritual, however unlikely that may be, then that will only prove how alike we are. Sacrificing everything for power. I taught you well my little Spawn.
But if you don’t finish the ritual, do you think you’ll be free? Could you ever be truly free, Astarion? Do you think my death will heal your wounds?
It won’t undo anything. It won’t heal your soul. You’re so accustomed to fear that you’d feel lost without it. Absurd, isn’t it? Because you’re used to living in terror. In fact, when you were gone, your first instinct wasn’t to run away as far as possible, it was returning to me. I’m sure, your thoughts are surely filled with me, telling everyone how wicked I was to my little pet. It’s a clever tactic, claiming weakness to lure them in. With your pretty face, who wouldn’t believe you? I’ll always live on, Astarion, in your mind, in the scars on your body.
And if you don’t kill me? Then you’ll never be free. I’ll find you and hunt you down. Because we belong together, Astarion, whether you like it or not. I’m the only one you can truly count on. You trust no one. And even if you resist, I’m the one who can offer you safety. Familiar horror is easier to bear than the unknown, isn’t it, my dear?
Anyway, we’ll see if you come to my door. I have enough wine to celebrate, the full-bodied one you like so much.
I look forward to seeing you soon.