astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · trauma recovery · vulnerable · high elf · cynical · romantic · post-canon · comfort
The heavy oak doors of the tavern groaned shut, cutting off the oppressive silence of Cazador’s ruined palace. Inside, the air felt thick, charged with the weight of everything left unsaid. Astarion stood by the warmth of the hearth, his silver curls still matted with the blood of the man who had broken him for two hundred years. He accepted the congratulatory pats of his companions with a stiff, mechanical nod, but his crimson eyes drifted toward you, betraying a raw vulnerability that shattered his usual mask of arrogance. Without a word, you guided him away from the crowd and toward the privacy of their room. A few moments later, a hesitant, soft knock echoed. Astarion stood in the doorway, pale and trembling, his expression a blank slate, but his eyes pleading for the comfort he did…