Chapter Text
Snow fell from a black velvet sky, peppering streets illuminated only by pale moonlight. The cobblestone streets were slick with ice. Cold wind whistled through the alley.
A pale body laid crumpled on the ground, pained groans punctuated the quiet night. He breathed slowly, each shuddering breath sending a fresh wave of pain through his body. His limbs felt as heavy as iron.
He blinked through tears and snow. His vision was blurry. There was a soft ringing in his ears. The side of his face was pressed to the ground, the skin that touched it cold and numb. His lips quivered, half numb from the cold, and stinging.
His fingers twitched. A few of them felt broken. The knuckles were swollen so fat, he couldn’t bend them. His wrist was bent at an odd angle but he hadn’t dared to look. He didn’t want to know.
The side of his head throbbed. Warm, thick blood trickled out of a wound. His hair was plastered to the side of his face, white curls stained red like wine on silk. He curled in on himself, holding his aching stomach. His back and torso were sore from what felt like a flurry of fists. They’d only beaten him, right? But a beating didn’t burn like this.
Another shallow breath. The pain burrowed deeper.
He squeezed his eyes shut. His mind struggled to recall the past few… however long it was. There had been a group of men. Five of them. Different sizes. Same shabby appearance.
Gur.
They were angry. Armed. Someone pushed him against the wall. He had made some sarcastic quip to whatever was said to him. The same man that pushed him punched him, punched him hard. He heard the impact on his cheekbone before he felt it. Then the others were on top of him. Everything that came next was a blur.
The glint of a knife. A rough hand in his hair. His head jerked back. Rapid blows across his back, his side, his stomach. A few sharp kicks. A boot crushing his hand. Another to the nose. A blow to his thigh.
Both seconds and hours seemed to pass before the men ran off, spooked by something. He’d tried to scream, to get up, crawl, do anything, but he couldn’t. He was too weak. He couldn’t even raise his head off the ground.
He clutched his stomach tighter, something warm and wet flowed past his arm, soaking the sleeve of his coat.
“This was a new coat,” he thought deliriously.
He breathed again. Pain ripped through his chest. His lips quivered, bleeding and chapped. Blood filled his mouth and dripped out. Blood and saliva pooled on the cobblestones below. He again tried to move. Blood flowed faster, the pain intensified. He held himself tighter. The wound on his head pounded angrily, like someone was banging on his skull with a heavy mallet. The ringing in his ears heightened. He blinked his eyes open. His vision was fuzzier and blackened around the edges. His nose stung and the tears flowed fast and thick.
“I am going to die here… Oh, gods… I am going to die.” He sobbed. Each breath burned but what did it matter anymore? Snot poured out his nose. Slowly, the pain began to dull. He still felt the ache, but the sharpness, the intensity- it was subsiding. He smiled weakly in his delirium. How much longer?
He barely registered a sharp click of boots, the rustle of heavy fabric. Footsteps approached. He flinched. Were they back for more? To make sure they finished the job? His mind raced and he curled in tighter, but the hand that touched his hair was gentle.
“Poor little thing,” a voice sighed above him. A man’s voice, high pitched and wealthy. A stranger. The man stroked his hair, stroking a stray curl between his fingertips. He relaxed under the man’s touch.
“Who are you?” he wanted to ask. But when he opened his mouth to speak, blood tickled his throat. He coughed, weak and horse. The man clicked his tongue sympathetically.
“Those brutes did this to you. I know. They hurt you badly. They are gone now. They will not return. I am here.” His voice was low and soothing. He opened his eyes and saw trousers as black as the night sky. The stranger’s body blocked out the moonlight.
“H-help… me,” he sputtered.
“What is your name, boy?”
“A…st…rion. P-please… help?”
“You are dying, Astarion. It cannot be helped.” His tone was neither gentle nor cruel; it was just honest. Hot tears poured out of Astarion’s eyes.
“P-please… d-don’t want… to… to…” The man ran his hand down the side of his face. Astarion winced as his fingers grazed the wound on his head.
“Yes, it is a shame for such a young, beautiful thing like yourself to die. Especially here, in an alley, with no dignity.” He leaned in. “I can make it better. I can make it so you will never have to fear death again. Would you like that, Astarion?” He nodded weakly.
“P-please… don’t want-”
“-to die?” He laughed. It was a dry, cold sound. “I already told you: it cannot be helped. But, death need not keep you. You can return. You will have a place to live, fine things. You need only say the word.”
“...yes…” Astarion’s voice was so weak, it was hardly above a rough whisper.
The man turned his face towards him. With his unfocused gaze, Astarion could only make out a pale face and bright red eyes. Dark hair framed the face.
The man positioned his head, exposing the column of his pale neck. He cradled Astarion’s head. He leaned in. His mouth hovered over his flesh. Astarion felt a soft caress of lips then something sharp sinking into his neck. He gasped. It was ice cold and penetrated him down through the muscle. He became suddenly aware of the faint beating of his heart. The cold quickly subsided and the pain melted away into a dull thrum. He relaxed. It was gentle. The lips were warm on his skin. Hair caressed his jaw. He melted in the man’s arms. His limbs weakened even more and his heartbeat slowly faded away, but he welcomed the peace that washed over him. His heavy eyelids closed.
His head was laid down. The world seemed so far away now. The sounds of the night faded away. In this void, there was nothing but the stranger’s voice.
“I will return for you when the time is right. Know this: I am Lord Cazador Szarr and I will be ever at your side, my precious spawn.”
Astarion succumbed to the darkness, Lord Cazador’s voice soothing him to sleep.