Chapter Text
Everything ached.
His back was being poked by some sharp rock, and his legs were at completely the wrong angle. Astarion let out a soft grunt of pain as he came to consciousness. His head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, but at least there was no damage when he lifted a hand to his eyes to shield them from the blinding light of the sun. The sun. Astarion’s crimson eyes went wide and instinctively he scrambled in the dirt, searching for shadow as he expected the pain to come searing across his body in an instant. He launched himself into the first bit of shade he could find, pressing his back up against the shattered hull of the illithid ship, his heart squeezing in his chest as he took stock of his surroundings.
Slowly, the panic that had jolted through his system began to fade as he caught his breath. He wasn’t dead, though by all accounts he should have been. The last thing he could remember, he was trapped in one of those pods, and then there had been the sickening sensation of falling, then pain, and then darkness. Only for him to wake, laying in a patch of sunlight. He stared out from his little patch of shadow at the bright rays just a few feet away. He had no idea how long he’d been laying there, yet he hadn’t burned. The vampire took an uneasy step forward, gingerly pushing off the wall as he extended his hand towards the light. He winced reflexively as the warmth touched his skin, expecting it to quickly start burning, but its warmth never grew into the familiar blistering heat he was accustomed to.
His dead heart lurched in his chest as he took another step forward, both hands outstretched now as he moved into the sunlight. Astarion felt his breath catch in his throat as he turned to look up at the sky, the brilliance of it blinding and beautiful at the same time. He closed his eyes against the rays of light, breathing out a shuddering sigh as he drank in the warmth of daylight. He could feel tears burning at the corners of his eyes and streaming down his cheeks as he basked in the light, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop them. He didn't expect for the next thing to rise up in his chest to be laughter, but it was. He couldn't stop the chuckles of disbelief as he paced around the patch of sunlight, the sound almost turning to mania as he ran his hands through his hair.
He had no idea where he was, or why he was here, or what was coming next, but as he stood in the morning light he couldn't help but laugh and cry in equal measure as he stood in the sun. He stood there basking in it for several moments as the emotion flooded him, eventually the tears stemming their flow as he began to catch his breath again. There was no burning, no pain, just warm sunlight on his face. The longer he stood there, the more the fog of unconsciousness cleared from his mind, and it was then that Astarion realized that his body was completely his own. There was no omnipresent feeling weighing on his mind. No orders from Cazzador to return, to hide, to steal more souls for his master's table. In fact, there was no Master at all. He was alone in his mind for the first time since he woke up in the dirt those two hundred years ago.
He was about to whoop for joy when he heard a shout from nearby, instantly going on the defensive as he drew back into the shadows. He peeked around the corner, peering through the smoke and the fire as he watched two figures battling a few remaining legged brains. He could just make out the shape of a slender, dark haired woman and a tall, deep purple tiefling, fighting against the creatures side by side. Anger rose in Astarion’s chest as he bared his fangs instinctively. He remembered them. He’d seen them wandering around the ship before it crashed, free of their pods. He wasn’t going to find his freedom just to be captured by some mindflayer’s thralls.
He left them to fight the brains, making his way up the cliff path until he found a good spot where he would be able to see them coming, but they’d not be able to see what he was pointing them too. There were some wild boar nearby as well, rooting around in the grass. The rogue smiled to himself, smoothing down his doublet as he glanced back to the wreckage. It was a perfect setup in a pinch, if he could say so himself, now all he had to do was wait.
It didn’t take long before he heard voices coming up the path, a bit of disappointment curling over his mind that the brains hadn’t finished them off. He really didn't want to get blood on his shirt today. He crouched next to a large bush, looking over to the approaching pair and waving them over. Now in the light and without the smoke and fire in the way, he got a better look at them. The woman looked to be half elven, wearing what looked like religious armor and a scowl as she stopped a few paces back. The tiefling seemed to be taking the lead, a tall, broad shouldered figure with deep purple skin and dark hair with two horns that curled back from their forehead, a rapier at their side and a lute strung across their back. Of course it had to be a bard. Hopefully that meant at least they’d be easy to kill. He waved them over, gesturing into the grass as the tiefling approached.
“Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered” Astarion growled, taking a half step back as the other man approached. “There, in the grass. You can kill it, can't you? Like you killed the others?” He asked, watching as the golden eyes of the tiefling narrowed and began to search the grass for the threat.
“Shouldn’t be a problem, we just dealt with a few of those a minute ago. Stand back” The tiefling took a couple more steps forward, drawing the rapier at their hip as they advanced into the grass.
“There, can you see it?” Astarion urged, taking a sideways half step behind the man, glancing over to the woman who didn't seem to be paying much attention. He took another little step closer, hearing the rustle from the grass before he saw the boar go darting off through the brush. He watched the tiefling’s shoulders relax and was about to step forward and strike when quickly the man whipped around, blade raised in turn as he took a quick half step back. He’d waited a split second too long, it seemed. He was clearly off his game from the crash still. The tiefling bared their own fangs at Astarion, rapier still raised as they faced off against each other, the half-elven woman reaching for her blade only too late, watching on from the side.
“If this is a robbery, you’re off to a very poor start, friend” The tiefling growled, their spaded tail lashing back and forth angrily behind them as those golden eyes which had been friendly and helpful only a moment before were now hard and wary.
“I just need information. I saw you scuttling about on the ship. You’re in league with them aren't you? Those tentacled- argh!” Astarion pitched forward as a wave of emotion crashed over him. Fear, desperation, pain. Images of smoke and fire. He saw flashes of traveling the ship, of the familiar streets of Baldur’s Gate, of a loud tavern and a song whose lyrics he couldn't make out. He tried to cling to the images, but they slipped away, yielding to the worm.
His vision came back into focus and he panted, hands clutching his head. He didn't even realize at first that he’d dropped his dagger, the blade laying in the dust beside the tiefling’s sword which had also tumbled from their hands during the exchange. He looked up to the other man in shock, fear rising in the back of his mind as he stared back at the other.
“What was that? What's going on?” His voice which had been so confident moments ago now was tinged with fear, even as he tried to maintain his composure.
“It's those worms they put in our heads, they connected us” The tiefling explained, wrinkling their nose as they reached up to rub at their temple, as though that might alleviate the itching in their eye that they both knew wouldn’t really stop. Astarion let out a pensive hum, brows rising as he considered the unwelcome guest currently sharing his skull. He’d nearly forgotten about the little beast, but now that he thought about it, it was all starting to make sense. The tadpole was the only thing that changed since he was taken, at least that he was aware. It must have been responsible for his newly found sun tolerance as well.
“The worm… of course. That explains things, somewhat” he mused, softening his expression and giving the bard a slightly more friendly look. “And to think, I was ready to decorate the grounds with your innards. Apologies.” He said, giving a little smile as he waved his hand, as if trying to clear the air of their little misunderstanding. The tiefling raised a brow at him, crossing their arms as their tail flicked back and forth a couple times before their shoulders relaxed slightly and that hard look in their eyes softened into something like amusement.
“Apology accepted. I might have done the same were the roles reversed” The tiefling quipped back, their face settling into a smirk as they shifted their weight to one hip. Their golden eyes raked up and down the rogue appraisingly. Astarion knew when he was being sized up, and the tiefling made no effort to hide their study of him. He couldn’t help but smirk a little bit in response, making his own measure of the bard. Perhaps he’d underestimated them. They were clearly sharp eyed and quick tongued, and he always appreciated another hustler when he encountered one.
“Ah, a kindred spirit” He said with a little quirk of his brow, watching as the tiefling smiled a little more. He turned up the charm a bit, giving a little wave as he decided he might as well introduce himself to the bard now that they weren't about to break out into a fight. “My name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur's gate when those beasts snatched me.” He explained, still watching the tiefling closely. For once, he was at a loss as to what was going on behind those golden eyes, that quirked brow and little smirk revealing absolutely nothing as the bard watched him right back. He was used to being able to read people like a book, but the bard proved to be a hard veil to pierce.
“You can call me Valrizan, or Val, if you prefer. I’m from Baldur's Gate as well” The bard, so now named Valrizan, said with a little polite half-bow before they went back to their previous pose, crossing their arms over their broad chest as they shifted their weight onto one hip, spaded tail swaying back and forth behind them. Astarion raised a brow at hearing the bard was from Baldur's Gate, giving a little derisive huff.
“Is that so? We clearly move in different circles” he said, looking away to check his nails, finding them quite caked with dirt and not nearly as nice as he was hoping. He looked back to the bard quickly, looking them up and down as he hid his hands behind his back, hoping the bard didn't notice his current lack of presentation. “So, do you know anything about these worms?
Valrizan sighed, nodding their head as their arms relaxed a bit, the smirk on their lips replaced by a thinly concealed sneer of distaste. “A bit, yes… Unfortunately, they’ll turn us into mindflayers” They explained, setting their jaw as they met Astarion’s gaze. His mouth dropped open in shock as his brows rose up high.
“Turn us into- ha. Hahahaha” He couldn’t help the laughter that rose up in his chest, but it was a desperate, manic laughter. He’d just found his freedom, just had a taste of free will for the first time in two centuries, and now he got to find out that the very thing that was his savior would be his undoing. He simply had to laugh at the absurdity of his terrible luck. He took a deep breath and let out a sigh, his face settling in a bitter scowl as he looked up, almost not even speaking to the bard anymore.
“Of course, it’ll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?” He said, gritting his teeth in frustration as he looked back to Val, ideas racing across his mind. If the tadpole was responsible for his tolerance to the sun and his freedom, then he didn’t exactly want to just get rid of it, but if there was some way to bring it under heel, now that was an interesting idea.
“Although, it hasn't happened yet. If we can find an expert, someone that can control these things, there might still be time.” He said, looking back to the tiefling, worry clearly written on his face. Val raised a brow, shifting their weight slightly as they gave him another appraising look up and down, though Astarion still couldn’t quite tell what they were reading from him. Those golden pools weren’t the clear windows he hoped they might be, and he still couldn't tell what the tiefling was thinking as they looked at him.
“Well, if its control you’re looking for, you should travel with me. The odds of us finding a solution for our wriggly little problem are far better together” Val suggested, uncrossing their arms to put their hands on their hips, spaded tail giving another little flick as they watched Astarion for his reaction. He couldn’t help but raise his brow at the suggestion, tapping his chin as he gave the bard a visible up and down, glancing over to the half elf and giving a snort before looking back to the bard with a sigh. It seemed like they were in this mess together, so he figured he might as well take the help where he could find it.
“You know, I was ready to go this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn't such a bad idea. And you seem like a useful person to know. Alright, I accept. Lead on.” the rogue said with a little shrug, watching as the tiefling smiled a bit more in return before nodding, bending down to pick up his rapier before sheathing it.
“With pleasure” They quipped back at him, the devilish bastard having the gall to wink at the rogue before turning away to continue hiking up the mountain path. Astarion rolled his eyes in response, reaching down to snag his dagger before falling in step behind the broad-shouldered bard. He couldn’t believe he was actually listening to a bard, but as they continued hiking through the wreckage that disbelief started to fade.
Quickly the bard proved themselves quite capable. Astarion watched as they resisted the mental pull of the dying mindflayer, reeling back and managing to stomp out its life before the devil-kin had snarled at the corpse and kicked it before quite pragmatically searching its clothes, grabbing a couple potions and tucking one away before distributing the others. Sharing was caring, after all, and Astarion wasn’t going to complain.
Next came the Githyanki trapped in the cage by two tieflings dressed in dusty clothes. Astarion recalled seeing her in the ship as well, and the parasite in his mind shuddered in recognition. He could feel the way she reached out to Val, demanding their help. The tiefling’s eyes hardened with intent before quickly Astarion watched manufactured fear fill their gaze and they turned back to the tieflings. The lies that rolled off the bard’s tongue were like honey, the pair agreeing to free the githyanki before the alien woman and the bard shared a look and a nod, the tiefling drawing his blade on the strangers. Astarion found himself smiling as he joined in the fight, though it wasn’t so much of a fight as it was a slaughter. For a bard, the tiefling seemed quite capable in a fight.
The cleric seemed quite less impressed with the violence, scoffing as she watched Val snatch a pouch of gold out of the man’s pockets. “We didn’t have to kill them, you know… I’m sure you could have talked them into leaving” She said with a bit of a huff. Val straightened up, tucking the pouch away into his pocket as he raised a brow at her. Astarion watched as the cleric now fell under the bard’s studious gaze, a little smirk settling over the tiefling’s lips as the rogue watched them find the words they were looking for, just the right ones to make the half-elf listen.
“Dead men tell far fewer tales than living ones. The less people who know about our involvement in the crash, the better for us all” the bard explained, the cleric who Astarion only remembered was called Shadowheart due to how unbearably edgy it was giving a sigh of defeat.
“I suppose you’re right. We should keep moving in case they’re not alone” She conceded, reaching down to pick up the fallen crossbow one of them had dropped, tucking it under her arm. At least she seemed pragmatic. Astarion watched as the bard smiled, catching that little satisfied look on their face that they had placated the cleric. It was one thing to be a skilled manipulator, it was another to watch it happening from someone just as skilled. Whatever had happened before they met, the bard had the cleric wrapped around their little finger.
“Agreed, if they were on a patrol, there could be more coming” they announced, looking over to Lae’zel, who nodded.
“Chk, I will travel with you until we reach a Githyanki creche. I will not be ghaik, and I will not allow you to be either. We will defeat this” The odd looking woman announced, falling in line behind the bard with a fervency that surprised Astarion. Valrizan only smiled, giving the stern looking woman a nod.
“I couldn’t agree more. Now, let's get moving” They said, catching Astarion’s eyes and giving him a little nod of confirmation before turning and continuing up the trail. He half wanted to protest that the bard assumed he’d continue to follow, but really he didn't have any better options.
As the day pressed on, it seemed to get progressively weirder. First they came upon a sparking portal carved in the stone. Astarion wasn’t going anywhere near that kind of magical anomaly, but Val seemed to have no fear as he touched the rune, only for a hand to extend from the swirling darkness. He had to stifle his laughter as a voice asked for a hand and the bard only slapped the extended palm, hiding his face behind a hand as eventually the bard pulled the exasperated wizard free so they couldn’t see his mirth. It wasn’t but a few minutes after they dismissed the chatty wizard to try to find a place to make camp before they stumbled upon a closed wooden gate and found themselves quite caught between a pack of goblins and that gate.
He was quite glad they rescued the Githyanki when the fighting broke out. She was deadly with her silver sword, and it was quite needed against the goblins and the warg. Shadowheart seemed to be having trouble hitting with her mace and her crossbow, but at least the bard seemed competent. There was even a moment where Astarion had just taken quite a slice across the arm, only to have the bard reach out to put a hand on his shoulder, a flood of warm healing magic closing the wound in an instant. Indeed, more useful than he could have ever imagined.
Their aid in the fight had gained them entrance to some druid’s grove which seemed to be playing host to a group of tiefling refugees. Even as the bard spoke to the mercenaries and tieflings, there didn’t seem to be a single glimmer or remorse for the pair they’d slain not but a couple hours before. They never even mentioned it. They did, however, manage to get a fair bit of praise and break up what might have been a fist fight rather smoothly. Astarion stood back, crossing his arms as he watched the bard work. Everyone they spoke to seemed to crumple under that charming smile and those warm golden eyes. Their chiseled jaw and perfectly pouty lips and neatly trimmed beard certainly helped their case. He knew a thing or two about using his looks to his advantage, and Val certainly embodied a fair visage that masked the brutality that the rogue had already witnessed.
This bard could be quite useful indeed, it seemed. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this.