Chapter Text
Astarion,
I’m ready when you are. I’ll see you soon.
Astarion rolled the sending stone between his thumb and forefinger as he stared at the decrepit shed in front of him. The wood on its outside was dark and rotted, as fetid as the rest of the outer city that he stood downwind from. Times like this he was happy to not need to breathe.
It was fine, he reminded himself. He only had to be here for a little longer, and then he would be in Westgate seeing Valdrey face to face again. He tried to ignore the way his stomach clenched in anticipation at the thought. It was fine. Astarion had been talking to her through the sending stone for nearly a year, and they’d been planning this trip for half of that time. All he had to do was recover the Ring of the Sun-Walker with her from some dungeon, then live out his days in the sun doing whatever he pleased with her at his side. Easy. Astarion had gotten better at considering the finer details of his plans in the past year and a half, but he had also found that worrying about them too early wasn’t always for the best. One step at a time.
Unfortunately the first step of his plan relied on a certain wizard of Waterdeep who was nowhere to be found. Astarion would have sighed, but he didn’t want to breathe any more of the refuse from the Baldurian stockyards than he had to. Where the Hells was Gale?
Footsteps came up the slope of the hill behind him, too heavy to belong to the human wizard. Astarion crept into the shadow that the shed’s roof created, his hand hovering near the dagger in his belt. Perhaps he would get a second meal tonight.
A half-orc crested the hill, slowing his steps as he drew closer to the shed. He turned in a slow circle as if looking for someone.
Ah.
Astarion was half tempted to jump out of the darkness and give him a good fright. Unfortunately, if he did that he ran the very real risk of being incinerated. Another time, then. He settled for stepping out of the shadows with his blade still stowed. “Should I have come with my own disguise? I feel terribly underdressed.”
“Good evening,” Gale the half-orc said. “You laugh, but I will take this moment to remind you of the clandestine nature of our meeting, and therefore the need to refrain from alluding to any sort of subterfuge or calling each other by our given names, until I have scanned the area once more for eavesdroppers. Shall we begin?”
Astarion rolled his eyes. “We’re the only ones around for quite some distance, Gale. It’s hardly-”
“I will remind you again,” Gale said sternly, raising one index finger as he spoke, “that what we are about to do is highly experimental and not to be discussed openly, except by those with the appropriate clearance. I’m committing a borderline crime by allowing you to do this, as a matter of fact. I would tell you to get to Westgate the regular way if not for certain factors.”
“Of course,” Astarion said, his smile congenial and much colder now. “I would hate to have you revoke your generosity on account of my refusing to acknowledge your benevolence, O mysterious half-orc. Shall I bow in addition to my thanks?”
"Oh, Astarion." Gale pinched the bridge of his nose. “Allow me to try a different approach.”
“Save your breath.” Astarion lowered the hood of his traveling cloak. “I understood you perfectly. Go ahead and look around if you want. We’re wasting moonlight.” He didn’t wait for Gale’s response before stalking towards the shed door. Gale sighed and followed after quickly casting what Astarion assumed was a detection spell.
The interior of the shed was no more glamorous than its outside. Bits of rotted wood planks sagged down from the low ceiling, and Astarion found himself ducking a little to avoid his curls getting snagged. Gale crouched even lower before remembering that he was not actually a tall half-orc, and he removed his disguise.
Once they stood across from each other, Astarion considered two things: one, that he had no idea how to proceed from here, and two, that he probably shouldn’t antagonize the powerful wizard who did know. Also yes, fine, Gale counted as a friend. A friend who he hadn't seen in nearly a year.
“Don’t pout, Gale,” he said. “It was a convincing little disguise. You looked like a perfect stranger. Why, I almost thought I was coming across my second meal of the night.”
“Unsettling,” Gale said drily. “But, I will take that statement as the peace offering that I’m hoping it is. Forgive my wariness. You understand that arranging public transit via teleportation circle has been under development since before I returned to Waterdeep.” His voice took on a note of wonder. “If completed, we could revolutionize travel between the major cities of Faerun. However, safety is paramount, and it is important that all variables are accounted for when utilizing the circles. They are not so far along in their development that they can be safely used by lower level mages, much less by those who are barely inclined to the study of magic at all.
“Yes, yes, you’re going to chaperone my little trip.” Astarion waved his hand before looking critically at the floor. “So where is the circle?”
“Oh, nowhere yet.” Gale pulled out a piece of chalk. “I have to draw it first, of course!”
Astarion stared at him. He opened his mouth and then remembered that he was supposed to be being nice to Gale right now.
“Right,” he said eventually. “And how long will that take?”
“Well my friend, you’re in luck to be in the company of a Blackstaff professor. Now of course Conjuration isn’t the field that I teach officially, but there’s no need to pretend I’m not extensively familiar with it.” Gale paused to chuckle like he’d said something funny. “I’ll need to copy the exact rune sequence into a circle of a ten foot diameter, so let’s say… about twenty minutes?”
“I suppose I don’t have a choice regardless,” Astarion huffed. “I’ll just go stand over there while you do the hard work, then.” He looked at Gale suspiciously. “Don’t your human eyes need a light of some sort to see your work?”
“A light?” Gale looked at Astarion like he’d suggested burning down the shed. “And create a beacon for any wandering stranger? Mys- gods forbid. No, I’ve granted myself darkvision for the purposes of our little mission. And don’t you worry about a reference, I have the runes memorized right up here.” He tapped his temple. “I’d never risk having information of such high sensitivity stolen from me, after all.”
Astarion crossed his arms and pressed the bottom of one foot against the wall behind him, leaning back and watching as Gale began drawing a large circle. “You really put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?”
Gale laughed sheepishly. “Perhaps too much. I’ll admit, I was rather excited when Valdrey reached out to me with the beginnings of this plan. Teaching the next generation of mages is a wonderful task, but the call of adventure and intrigue… well, it has been some time since I’ve answered it.”
“Adventure?” Astarion laughed. “You, who complained about the wear and tear on your joints the entire time we were traveling to Baldur’s Gate?”
“You did a fair bit of complaining too, if I recall correctly.”
“A pity there’s no one here to corroborate your claim,” Astarion said, but there was no real heat in their exchange. He hesitated. “It is good to see you again, Gale. I suppose I’m just… a bit stressed. It’s my limbs on the line if this doesn’t go well, after all.”
“Not just your limbs,” Gale said gravely. “Your very corporeal makeup could be torn asunder if we’re not careful. You could end up strewn across planes, your consciousness spread like butter along a very long baguette.”
“Vivid,” Astarion deadpanned. “Is this the sort of morale you cultivate in your classroom?”
“Hopefully not!” He said. “I mean to inspire a healthy respect for the inner workings of the Weave, for the thrill of the unknown. I find it hard to believe you can’t understand such a feeling, having led a colony in the Underdark since we all parted ways. And now you’re off to a Westar dungeon! I imagine you’re getting your fill of adventure so far.”
Astarion made a noncommittal noise. “It was a different sort of adventure in the Underdark, to be certain.” He looked off to the side. “Let’s just say I’m perfectly happy to be returning to the surface world.”
“And to Valdrey, no doubt.” Gale paused to stand up and stretch his back. “Am I correct in saying that this will be your first time seeing her since the reunion party?” He moved to the inner part of the circle, completely unaware of Astarion scowling at him.
“Yes,” he answered coolly. “Why? Have you seen her?”
“Oh, no. We keep written correspondence but it is, unfortunately, very infrequent. It seems running a mostly legitimate family business is just as time consuming as she led us to believe.”
“I thought so,” Astarion murmured. His fingers wandered almost unconsciously to the sending stone in his inner breast pocket.
“I’ve always wanted to visit Westgate,” Gale mused. “It’s by all reports a rather seedy sort of place, but the Westar mages I’ve collaborated with are quite insightful. If a bit more rough around the edges. I might have gone with you this time, but alas. Duties call back in Waterdeep.” He smiled ruefully. “Perhaps later on, if you two are still there.”
“I expect the next time you see us, I’ll be in the sun again,” Astarion said. “If this lead is credible, of course.”
“Valdrey seemed very confident about her sources,” Gale mused. “For the purposes of the search, it’s quite fortunate that we have a friend with such a reach along the Dragon Coast. Although I’ll admit, I did think she would remain on the Sword Coast after everything. When we were all together she seemed to express a fair amount of displeasure at the idea of returning to her family. I do understand a bit of that. There are quite a few Dekarioses that I am more than happy to only see at family reunions.”
“Yes.” Astarion tried not to let bitterness seep through his tone. “But Fairvine business calls rather loudly, it would seem.”
“If I may be even more frank, we all assumed that you would stay joined at the hip even after our adventure ended.” Gale looked at him. “That argument you two had before Shadowheart and I left was unexpected, to say the least. I’ve rarely seen Valdrey look so miserable.”
“Well, you’ve put all the clues together, haven’t you?” Astarion asked, pitching his voice to sound like Gale had made some big discovery. He flattened it again and sneered, “perhaps they should have made you teach divination instead of illusion.”
“Divination is a fine school,” Gale said calmly, refusing to rise to the bait. “But the only magic I was alluding to in this instance was perhaps the magic of a listening ear. The teleportation will require some focus from you as well. I would highly recommend that you be intentional about where you’re going, with no second guesses or anything of the sort. If there’s something you need to get off your chest…”
Astarion laughed humorlessly. “I assure you,” he said. “I am stable enough to reach my destination safely. I am absolutely not worried about seeing Valdrey again.”
Gale murmured his assent and dutifully continued the circle. Astarion let him fill the next few minutes with a monologue about his time in Waterdeep, keeping one ear tuned in as he worried very much about seeing Valdrey again.
He wasn’t proud of the part he’d had to play in their fateful argument. He believed he’d become a better version of himself in those six months after the Netherbrain fell, but he’d done it with yet another regret to add to his long list. Facing the ghosts of his past to help create a semi-functional society of hungry vampire spawn was taxing enough. He really hadn’t needed to add the lingering fear that his first and most profound friendship had been ruined by his own hand.
Thankfully, things were better between them now. They’d both come to Withers’ reunion party grateful for a second chance at any kind of relationship, and she’d even gifted him with the sending stone. She hadn’t given one to anyone else. Only him. After some initial awkwardness they’d stayed close together for the entire night, talking and laughing and forgiving.
Then the party had ended and neither of them had admitted their true feelings for each other. Oh, their hands had crept close together and their gazes had been charged, but they’d simply promised to use the sending stones and then parted ways.
Stupid.
Still, Astarion had reviewed the night over and over in his head. What else could they have done? They both had tasks to return to on opposite ends of Faerun. Neither one could just up and go with the other that night. Astarion had returned home to the Underdark and started planning his departure soon after, but what if Valdrey really had moved on from him? What if this ring invitation was just a courtesy?
Well, okay, the chances that he was misjudging her attraction were slim. This was what he used to do, after all. He was fairly certain that she wasn’t wholly satisfied with just being friends either. Hells, she’d told him two months ago that she was exploring stepping down as the head of her family. Astarion wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to say that she was rearranging her life for him, but one had to look at the clues. He wasn’t delusional for thinking she could want to find this ring with him and then be with him in the same way he wanted to be with her. He wasn’t. All he had to do was reunite with her and confirm it. And face the heart crushing possibility that he was wrong. Simple!
“…and that’s the story of how the left wing of Professor Grasshill’s tower got overrun by elemental archons. Alright, all done! Look at that gorgeous geometric convergence. This may be one of my best circles yet, and there’s some stiff competition in that department! I’d say our chances of success are extremely high.”
Gale was so busy admiring his own work that he didn’t notice Astarion’s initial jolt of surprise. The vampire cleared his throat and stood up straight, looking dubiously at the purple-pink runes on the ground. “And we’re sure it works?”
“Our chances of success are extremely high,” Gale repeated cheerfully.
“Gale.” Astarion moved to the center of the circle. “Do not let me get torn asunder. I mean it. If anything happens to me, I will reform through sheer force of will and hunt you down.”
“I’d expect no less.” Gale stepped safely outside of the circle and away from Astarion. “Remember, you’re going to a shed on the outskirts of Westgate. Valdrey will meet you there.”
“Understood.” Astarion sighed. “And thank you, Gale. For all of this. But really, don’t scatter my existence across the planes.”
“I’ll do my best.” Gale smiled. “Good luck to you, Astarion.”
Without further ado, he began to chant. The runes under Astarion’s feet lit up and slowly grew in intensity as Gale’s voice rose. Astarion tensed, but the radiance of the magic did not harm him.
Rays of pure teleportation magic began to reach up from the floor, engulfing Astarion’s body. The last thing he saw was Gale’s look of concentration before he felt his body and whatever he had of a soul being whisked away to the city of Westgate.
The next time Astarion opened his eyes he was still inside of a small building, and he thought for a moment that he hadn’t left Baldur’s Gate at all. Then he inhaled, and the distant smell of metal and woodsmoke swarmed his senses.
“Astarion?”
His breath hitched. He’d forgotten how different she sounded in real life compared to the sending stone. Astarion hurried out of the shed and outside to where Valdrey was running towards him.
He stared at her in wonder, trying to take in every detail that he had been missing for far too long. There was her lovely dark hair pinned back from her lovely round face, and the copper dragon scales around her eyes that caught the moonlight as she stopped in front of him. She peered at him like she was relearning his features too, then remembered herself and stepped back a little.
“Hello, stranger,” she teased, smiling until he could see the little gap between her two front teeth.
Astarion couldn’t help his own saccharine smile in return. “Hello, my dear.”
“Hello,” she repeated giddily. She was almost shy as she folded her hands together, but Astarion understood. The moment between them felt heavy and teetering, like the wrong move could bring the peace they’d built crashing back down. “Seeing you in the flesh again is… it’s beyond words,” she offered. “You look wonderful.”
“Well, yes. That goes without saying,” Astarion said, shaking himself out of his daze. “You’re nice too, I suppose.”
Valdrey laughed loudly. Astarion watched the corners of her eyes crinkle and felt his chest ache.
“I did miss you,” she said fondly. She raised her arms, then faltered. “Would you care for a-?”
“Valdrey,” he said with mocking reproach. “It’s taken you long enough to ask.”
She was warm when she wrapped her arms around him. Astarion could tell she had put on weight since he’d last seen her, filling out in the way that she hadn’t been able to while eating scraps on the road. He hugged her tighter, and they stood in comfortable silence for a bit. Her locs were rough-smooth against his cheek as he rested his head against hers and let her scent envelope him. “I missed you too,” he murmured. An understatement. Valdrey seemed to agree if the way she pressed herself even closer to him was any indication.
“The sending stones are great, but they’re not the same as actually seeing you,” she said quietly. “You really do look wonderful, Astarion. You’ve been feeding well, I take it?”
“Alas,” he sighed dramatically. “The criminals of Baldur’s Gate won’t defeat themselves.”
“Your civic duty,” she giggled.
“Ugh.” Astarion wondered at the fact that they were still hugging. They hadn’t even hugged at the reunion, both of them too nervous about overstepping any boundaries. This was too long for friends, right? This was one of their longest hugs. Not that he was keeping track. Still, she wasn’t letting go and so neither was he, line between friends and lovers be damned. “Not so loud, darling. Someone will hear and take you seriously.”
“We’re outside of the West Gate right now,” she said. “No one around here cares about us, I promise.”
“Westgate,” he said. “Should I be adding ‘The’ to that name?”
“No.” She slowly pulled back, and Astarion let her go. If she thought they’d been hugging for too long, she didn’t show any sign of it. It was fine. “That gate, the west entrance to Westgate, is called the West Gate. It’s a common confusion.”
“Not a very creative people, are you?”
“I’m telling every single Westar we come across that you called us stupid.” She turned and started walking towards the open gates in the near distance.
“How dare you! I didn’t call your people stupid.” Astarion fell in step next to her. “I called you uninventive. Be accurate.”
His first impression of Westgate, besides their questionable naming conventions, was that it was rather cramped. Bars and inns and the odd tall building were shoved so close together that it was generous to call the space between them alleys. Despite it being the middle of the night, people milled around outside in various manners of dress. Stall owners roasted meats over open fires on the roadside. Doors were wide open, letting light and raucous conversation spill out onto the streets.
“You’ve caught us in a rather festive time of year,” Valdrey said, nodding at a half-orc they passed by. “It’s almost time for the Waukeenar Procession.”
“You’ve mentioned this,” Astarion said. “That merchant goddess you all like so much, right?”
“Exactly.” Valdrey led him off the busy street, and before he knew it they were walking on a smaller one with much less activity. Cloaked figures looked at them curiously, but they quickly looked away again when Astarion let his hand wander to his dagger and Valdrey allowed a few sparks to jump between her fingers. She lowered her voice anyway. “The Procession, and the tendays leading up to it, are a good time to go poking around in places that would normally be guarded. Tonight the head merchants and officials are deciding where the Procession will be held. It’s supposed to be a public vote, so they’ll spend the next few hours plying people with drinks and baubles to win them over. Not many people are looking to find their fortune in an underground dungeon right now.”
“Clearing the way for us.” Astarion smiled conspiratorially at her, and she tilted her head in furtive acknowledgement. “So our little adventure will be tonight?”
“If you’re ready then I am too,” she said. “You’ve waited long enough, I’m sure. But my apartments are nearby if you want to rest or stock up on anything. And I’m sure we can easily find someone if you’re hungry.” Her words were pressured, like she was trying to anticipate his every desire before he said it out loud.
“That’s quite alright,” he said, genuinely touched at her offer. “Everything I need is right here.”
He hadn’t meant for his words to come out so charged, but he found himself unwilling to take them back or laugh them off. Valdrey blinked at him before ducking her head, not quite able to hide her smile. “It’s just this way.”
She drifted even closer to him as they continued on, all but allowing their shoulders to brush together.
They ended up squeezing between an abandoned house and a sordid looking inn, stopping in front of a gray dented door on the side of the house. There was a thick chain wrapped around the doorknob, with a padlock bearing some sort of circular symbol that had been worn away by time. The keyhole was visibly warped. Valdrey took hold of the chain with one hand, and acid began to seep from her palm to corrode the metal.
Astarion laughed with delight. “I did miss this little trick of yours!”
“Thank you,” she said, clearly pleased. “No one in my family finds it half as funny as you do.” Then she tensed like she hadn’t meant to say such a thing, and Astarion found himself pressing his lips together in an effort to hold back a knee-jerk comment. An uneasy silence came between them.
Astarion gritted his teeth. They’d been having a lovely night. They could at least get a little further before bringing this up again.
“Not that I doubt your sleuthing abilities,” he said carefully, “But do you really think the ring is in there?” He hesitated. “You can be honest, darling. I won’t be terribly upset if we don’t find it.”
He really wouldn’t. Astarion had met all mention of the Ring of the Sun-Walker with a subdued sort of excitement, never dwelling on it for too long before reminding himself that the odds of finding such a thing were small. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if this turned out to be a dead end; he had come to be at peace with living in the darkness. He saw it as less of a trap and more of a different world, one that he could navigate with expertise. One that he flourished in. He truthfully did not need to walk in the sun.
But for better or worse, Astarion was a greedy man. He hungered for blood and he hungered for power and he hungered for every pleasure he could get his hands on. He still remembered what it felt like to be in the sun. He did not need the feeling back, but he wanted it. He was not about to turn away this opportunity before him.
Valdrey stepped back to wait for the acid to eat away the rest of the chain. She gazed at Astarion so gently that it almost made him want to bristle, to demand that she not coddle him. But she hadn’t had the chance to look at him like that in a very long time, and gods help him but he had missed it. During his time in the Underdark he had gotten used to all kinds of expressions from those around him - fear, respect, hatred, and wariness being chief among them.
Valdrey looked at him like he was someone to be cherished. To be loved.
“If the ring isn’t down here,” she said solemnly, “I will personally hunt down the mage who gave me the information, and then you can bleed him dry. And of course, we’ll try again.” Her expression grew hesitant. “If that’s alright with you.”
Astarion remembered what it felt like to grow closer to her on the road to Baldur’s Gate, not as a lover but as a friend like they had agreed. Valdrey's friendship felt warmer than the sun, but Astarion was a greedy man. He wanted her entire heart; he knew that for certain now.
“We'll try again,” he agreed. He was gratified to see her shoulders relax. “In the meantime... best not to waste any more moonlight out here.”
He stepped forward and opened the door. Before them was a dimly lit descending staircase, leading to a place that was no doubt crawling with all sorts of horrors.
“Just like old times!” Astarion beamed. He gallantly ushered Valdrey in. “After you, darling. I’ll watch your back, like always.”
“Oh, saer! You’re too kind.” She swooned dramatically before waltzing inside like they were about to stroll through the park. “Would you close the door behind you?”
With the kinds of trials they’d faced, such a flippant reaction was probably appropriate. Still, Astarion unsheathed his daggers as they descended into the dungeon. He had been itching to break these in.