Chapter Text
Astarion was six years old when he asked his parents how they met. It was on that day that he not only learned about their fated meeting, but about soulmates as well.
“You see Astarion,” his mother had said, voice soft and melodious. “Your father and I were made to find each other, to love each other, and to have you.” She bopped his nose and the child giggled with glee. “We are two halves that form one whole. We’re soulmates.”
“Soulmates?” he asked, eyes big with wonder.
“Everyone has one,” his father said. “Even you, little star.”
“I do? Really?” A big smile lit up Astarion’s face. “Who are they? When can I meet them?”
“Now, now,” his mother said. “We have to wait until you are eighteen to take you to a Soul Matcher. They’ll be able to find your soulmate for you.”
“But why can’t I know now?” the child pouted.
“There’s a few reasons but the main ones are that the Soul Matcher requires your blood and a child like you cannot make the choice to inflict that harm on yourself.”
“And also,” his father said. “Your soulmate may not be born yet. You need to give them time to come into existence.”
Astarion still wasn’t happy but he nodded. “Is there any other way I can find my soulmate?”
“Well, it’s rare but there have been times where soulmates have found each other completely by ‘accident.’” He raised his fingers in air quotes.
Astarion tilted his head in confusion. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Because there are no accidents in life Astarion, only destiny and fate, especially with soulmates.”
His mother rolled her eyes fondly. “Ever the romantic, darling.”
“But I still don’t understand.” Astarion’s brows furrowed further. “Even if you ‘accidentally’ met your soulmate, how do you know it’s them?”
“Soulmates’ hearts beat in unison. The only time you can tell which heartbeat is which is when your soulmate feels something that causes their heartbeat to temporarily change. Just a few years back, a woman met her soulmate at the market. A man there had suddenly collapsed, a heart attack they said. The woman had felt a sudden sense of dread, of emptiness, and she ran to help him. His heart had stopped beating and it was only through her knowing a bit of healing magic that he was able to breathe once more. As he did, the woman felt another heartbeat inside hers rush with life again and she knew that it could only be his. Later that day, a Soul Matcher confirmed her suspicions.”
Stars practically danced in the little elf’s eyes at the mere idea of one day meeting this special person that he was connected to. He would have someone that loved him so much just like his mother and father loved each other. He couldn’t wait until the day came when he would meet this remarkable person. He would give them the biggest hug and give them lots of kisses and tell them that he loved them.
“I can’t wait to meet my soulmate!”
His parents smiled down at him, looking at him with fondness.
“And we can’t wait for you to meet them too,” his mother said.
Astarion had taken a vow of celibacy, at least to himself. He would not have any intimacy with anyone, not even kiss anyone unless they were his soulmate. He wanted to have those special firsts with the one he was destined to be with.
At 17 years of age, Astarion had had his experiences with crushes, raging hormones, all those frustrating and complicated things that came with being a teenager. And yet, he had remained devoted to his soulmate. Of course, he knew that he was definitely allowed to experiment with other people. There was no rule that stated he couldn’t do otherwise, but he wanted to save all those experiences for his soulmate. He didn’t expect his soulmate to do the same of course. His soulmate was free to do as they pleased. He only hoped that when they met, Astarion would be enough.
Hopefully today would be the last day that he would have to wait, for his birthday was tomorrow and he would finally be old enough to go see a Soul Matcher. His parents had told him if he wished it, they would take him to one as a birthday present. Astarion had accepted without hesitation.
“I hope whoever they are that they are absolutely beautiful Astarion,” Juliet, his best friend said as they sat down to have lunch together. “Someone as gorgeous as you surely deserves the same in return.”
Astarion rolled his eyes at the girl’s overdramatic praise. “I’d hope I’m worth more than just beauty.”
“Of course you are! I’m just saying that it wouldn’t be bad to have a soulmate who isn’t only good in character, but irresistible in looks. You two would turn heads everywhere you go.” She sent him a wink that only caused him to laugh. “So does this mean that my blushing virgin Astarion will be no more?” She wiggled her brows in a teasing manner and Astarion barely stopped himself from choking on his lunch.
“Julie!”
She raised her hands in peace but her expression still held amusement. “I’m just saying. You have all that pent up sexual frustration and have saved it just for them. I wouldn’t blame you if you exploded just by looking at them.”
The elf let his head drop onto the table, garnering a few looks from the other students before they turned back to their own conversations. He glared up at Juliet, his cheeks heated from his blush. “I hate you.”
She laughed. “Oh darling,” she said, mocking the unique way he had of pronouncing the word. “You never could no matter how hard you tried.”
Astarion huffed half-heartedly knowing that she was right.
The next day, Astarion skipped school so that his parents could take him to the Soul Matcher. She was a Tiefling woman with blazing amethyst eyes and a kind smile. Her dark hair was down with small braids framing her face. She proved her skill by testing her abilities on his parents first. What resulted was a glowing thread, bright and gold in color, which seemed to be tied around his parents’ pinkies. A string of fate so to speak, that connected them together. This Soul Matcher was the real deal.
Astarion took a seat across the Tiefling woman at a small round table. A small bowl sat in the middle of them, and the woman held out her palm. Astarion knew what would happen next. His parents had explained the process. The Soul Matcher would cut his wrist so he may fill the small bowl with blood. Then, she would consume it and help him find his soulmate, or in this case, create that string of fate.
Still, that didn’t make him any more prepared for the pain he felt at having his wrist sliced open. The wound bled profusely, and he worried that it would be too deep for him to heal before he bled out. Luckily, his worries were for naught since the Tiefling woman whispered an incantation and closed the deep cut once the bowl was filled to the top with thick red blood. He flinched in disgust as she brought the bowl to her lips and drank every single drop. Astarion didn’t know how she was able to stomach drinking another person’s bodily fluids. He knew he would never be able to do something as vile as that.
“Give me your hand, child.”
He did and watched as the entirety of her eyes glowed a bright purple, the shade a tad lighter than her original eye color. Purple tendrils of what he assumed to be the Weave swirled around their joined hands. His heart beat with anticipation, with giddiness and he briefly wondered if his soulmate could feel him right now. He wondered if his soulmate could feel the excitement that was coursing through him with every quick beat his heart did.
They sat there for what felt like forever but was only a handful of minutes until the Soul Matcher’s eyes dimmed to their original color and pulled away with a small frown. Astarion on the other hand was very confused. He looked around, searching for the string of fate but found nothing. His expression portrayed his confusion enough that he didn’t even need to ask the Tiefling woman to elaborate.
“I don’t detect another soul.”
Astarion’s heart dropped and so did his jaw. “What do you mean?”
She placed a hand on his and gave him a reassuring look. “Relax child. This has happened before. Your soulmate may not be born yet. That is all.”
“Are you sure? Do you think that perhaps they’re…dead?” Astarion had enough trouble getting the word out without throwing up. He didn’t know what he would do if he found that out.
“No, of course not!” she said with a shake of her head. “I would be able to tell. A connection is a connection, even one that is broken by death’s cold grasp. Your soulmate is very much not dead. They are just nonexistent for now.” Upon his disappointed look, she gave him a small smile and a pat on his hand. “Give them time to come into the world. Come see me or another Soul Matcher next year or so. Your results might change.”
While still disappointed, the woman’s words did bring back that hope in his chest. He thanked her before he left with his parents to head back to their estate. His mother hugged him close, making it very difficult to walk but it was welcomed nonetheless.
“I’m so sorry my star,” she said. “I wanted nothing more than for you to meet your soulmate on this day.”
“It’s all right, Mother,” he said genuinely. “I’ll just have to wait until next year. And if it’s still the same, I’ll keep waiting for them until they’re ready.”
“That’s my boy!” His father pulled him into a hug, tousling his silver-white curls. “Ever the strong and patient man you are! Don’t let anyone or anything deter you from keeping that hope alive Astarion.”
He smiled up at his father, promising himself that he definitely wouldn’t allow that hope to dwindle.
Astarion was 21 when he became the youngest magistrate in Baldur’s Gate, a title he was exceptionally proud of. His parents even more so. It wasn’t long until he was able to get a place of his own and start his own life. He still visited his parents weekly and regaled them with interesting stories surrounding his duties. Astarion wondered if he would tell these same stories to his soulmate one day and if they would even be interested in hearing them.
He could see it. Him walking into their house after a long day. His soulmate greeting him with a smile and a kiss, asking about his day. They would swap stories over a dinner they would cook together. They would be pleasantly interrupted by their dog or perhaps cat running into the room. Maybe even a child would follow closely behind.
It was this image that fueled the warmth in Astarion’s chest, that made those stars dance in his eyes.
At 23, Juliet came to him with joy over having met her soulmate. She had been putting it off for so long and avoiding going to a Soul Matcher because she was too scared to give up her independence. She didn’t want to tie herself down to one person. But over the past couple of years, something had changed and when she saw the string of fate appear one day, she didn’t sever it and let him come to her.
His name was William and he made Juliet smile in a way that Astarion had never seen before. Her eyes glimmered and her entire being seemed to glow with a joy that was palpable. They looked at each other as if they were their whole world, and he supposed that they were.
Astarion was happy for Juliet, truly he was. She deserved to have a love that would last and stay with her forever. He would be lying if he said it didn’t pain him a tiny bit at not having met his soulmate yet.
Yes, Astarion understood that elves lived much longer than any other race. Yes, he understood that perhaps it would take another 50 or even 100 years for his soulmate to come into the world, but that reasoning didn’t calm his mind when nearly all the elves he knew had met their soulmates rather quickly.
As he watched the two of them, he couldn’t help but think that in a couple of months he would have to go back to a Soul Matcher again. It would be his sixth attempt but he had to have hope. He had to.
Astarion was 25 when he decided to skip out on seeing a Soul Matcher again. It wasn’t that he was giving up. He just couldn’t be hyper focused on that twenty-four seven. He had to live his own life too. Juliet had been telling him this constantly and he finally decided to take her advice. He felt much lighter in focusing more on himself and his work. He even began to hang out with his colleagues and really get to know them.
He even had his first kiss.
It had been during a work celebration and he and one of his colleagues had had a few drinks. Nothing to get them drunk, but just enough to release those inhibitions. Jonathan had leaned in and Astarion found him too beautiful to not resist.
It was a warm and soft kiss, one that lingered and made his lashes flutter and made his heartbeat faster.
After that, Astarion began his first ever romantic relationship. He had been happier than he remembered being and was glad to see that he was making his partner just as happy. His parents took a quick liking to Jonathan and even invited him over for the weekly family dinners. Everything had seemed perfect and for a good while, it was. He had even thought less and less about his soulmate predicament for if he had this, if he had Jonathan, did he really need a soulmate?
And then came a day where Jonathan brought up the topic of intimacy.
They had been together for the course of two years now and not once had they ever delved into something more than a heavy make out session. There had been times when it got close to something more but Astarion was always the one gently putting a stop to it, claiming he wasn’t ready just yet. He never told Jonathan the real reason why he abstained from sexual intimacy.
“Astarion, is the reason why you push away from it because you’re not completely attracted to me?”
The question hurt Astarion—Jonathan’s expression even more so. Those big green eyes filled with such sadness as if he wasn’t enough. He hated that he made the other feel this way. The only course at this point was to tell him the truth.
Astarion ran a hand through his silver-white curls, letting out a deep sigh as he averted his eyes from Jonathan’s. “It’s not that Jonathan, I swear to you. I love you dearly but I-”
And why oh why was it so hard to get the truth out? Jonathan deserved that so why was Astarion so afraid?
“Is it your soulmate?”
He stilled and turned his attention back to the other. “What? Why would you say that?”
A small sad smile appeared on Jonathan’s lips and he looked at Astarion with what the elf deemed as pity. “You do this thing where you put a hand over your heart briefly every so often. Unless you have some sort of heart condition, I can only assume that you’re checking for an irregularity that could be from your soulmate.”
Astarion’s ears tilted down the slightest bit, as if frowning along with him. “It’s just instinct at this point.”
“But you still do it.”
“Jonathan-”
“You’re saving yourself for your soulmate.”
Astarion said nothing.
“And it’s not just the physical intimacy aspect, but you’re saving parts of yourself that I have never seen, perhaps the best parts. Sometimes you’re closed off and I can only wonder why without overstepping by asking.”
“What are you saying?”
Jonathan bit his lip, an anxious habit of his. “I don’t think this can work out.”
Astarion scoffed. “Why? Because I won’t let you fuck me?”
“No,” he said calmly, his voice laced with pain. “Because your mind, your heart will never completely be with me. You will never let me into your world completely. I can’t settle for just half of you, Astarion.”
Astarion didn’t argue, didn’t put up a fight. Why hadn’t he? Had Jonathan meant so little to him that he just stood there and watched as the other walked away? Or was Astarion still fixated on finding his soulmate?
Regardless, all Astarion knew in this moment was that his heart had broken.
Astarion’s bad habits began shortly after he caught word that Jonathan had found his soulmate. He didn’t feel the slightest bit of happiness for the man, just anger. How dare he break off their relationship over the issue of soulmates and go off looking for his own not long after? The hypocrisy, the betrayal, it ate at Astarion.
So he drank.
He frequented going to a small tavern filled with bustling people and good wine. He stopped showing up to family dinners. He talked to Juliet less and less. He shirked on his duties as a magistrate, merely signing things off without paying much attention to them.
Slowly but ever surely, Astarion was becoming a shell of his former self. And he blamed it all on his soulmate.
One night at the tavern, even in his anger induced haze, he couldn’t help but notice an elf woman eyeing him from across the room. Her red hair and dark skin were tantalizing and the lustful look her golden eyes sent his way were absolutely sinful.
A smirk appeared on his lips as he approached her, mustering all the charm and confidence he could to whisper promises of making her come undone and ravishing her. She didn’t know he had never been with anyone intimately, but his false words said otherwise.
And so she led him up to a room, lockpicking the door and pulling him through. Her mouth tasted like whiskey and her skin smelled of a sweet perfume. He fucked her hard into the mattress, finding pleasure in hearing her scream and moan particularly because he had caused that. Him. No one else. And when he came inside her, fingers digging into her hips, he couldn’t help but smirk.
For this was payback to his soulmate, for all the torment they had caused him.
As the years went by, Astarion became less and less of who he once was. He became more charming, more seductive, more manipulative, but he also became less hopeful. He couldn’t even remember when the last time he had seen a Soul Matcher had been. Juliet attempted to get through to him but every attempt ended with an argument. His parents had tried to offer their help to him but he had refused by saying that there was nothing or no one to be helped.
It was on one night where Astarion had found himself deep inside a woman, legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her against the wall, that something changed. When she clenched around him, screaming in pleasure, he came just as hard, burying his face in her shoulder. She laughed sweetly.
“Oh, you are certainly a much better fuck than my good for nothing husband.”
Astarion was unphased. It wasn’t the first time he had fucked someone’s wife or husband. Who was he to deny someone else’s pleasure? Especially his own?
“It definitely sounded like it, darling.”
“And to think the man is my soulmate. Absolute rubbish.”
It was like a string snapped inside Astarion. He was completely aware of what he had just done. He had come in between two soulmates and their bond. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t been the first person she came to to satisfy her needs. He had still been a part of it.
Suddenly disgusted with himself and with the woman, he slid out of her and threw her on the bed, quickly shrugging on his clothes and stomping out of the tavern.
Outside, he took a moment to just close his eyes and breathe. When he looked up at the night sky, tears were streaming down his face and sobs began wracking his body. All these years he had been kidding himself. He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t living his best life. He was ignoring it at the bottom of bottles and burying his woes in warm flesh. His heart felt heavy and he briefly wondered if his soulmate could feel the change in beat—that is if they were even around yet.
“Please,” he said to any and all gods that would listen. “Please let this be the one.”
With that, he made his way to a Soul Matcher in the city, one that tended to stay open late. He didn’t bother with any greetings or formalities. He just slammed a coin purse on the table, sat down and offered his wrist.
The Soul Matcher, a half-elf man, merely blinked and said, “Straight to it then.”
The blood was spilled and consumed. Astarion waited with bated breath as the Soul Matcher held his hand and concentrated. He seemed to be taking longer than the others had and for a brief moment, Astarion had hope.
And then the man spoke.
“I feel nothing. Perhaps you should-”
Astarion was out the door before he even finished his words. He stomped down the dark path that led to his home, one that he usually took in the morning for this specific reason. It was on this path that he was ambushed, a group of Gur that were particularly angry over a ruling he had made. As one of the men recounted how his son was sentenced to death over a minor thievery because of the elf’s ruling, Astarion could only gape in horror. He hadn’t realized until now just how much of an impact him ignoring his duties would have.
He didn’t fight back as they beat him. He pleaded and screamed for his life and couldn’t help but think how pitiful and wretched he sounded. Perhaps he deserved this. Perhaps he deserved to die.
And when they left him beaten and battered, his breath coming out in small wisps and his blood soaking into his clothes, a man approached him, promising him immortal life, a fresh start.
Astarion instantly agreed. If he had a fresh start, perhaps he could right some of his wrongs. He could apologize to Juliet and to his parents. He probably still had some time to undo some of the rulings he made. Hells, he would even find Jonathan and tell him he was happy for him and that he should hold onto that cozy life with his soulmate.
Astarion felt something stab through the flesh on his neck and he grew colder and colder until black encompassed his vision and his breath left his body.
When Astarion wakes next, he is aware of two things. First, he has no heartbeat. And two, he is in a box and not just any box. After feeling around the confined tight enclosure, he realized that he was in a coffin. Panic set in as he realized he would soon run out of oxygen and starve or die of dehydration in here.
But wait, he had no heartbeat. If he had no functioning heart, then did that mean he didn’t need food or water? But how was he still alive?
He figured he could save that thought for later because right now, he had to get out of here. It was dark and confining and he could barely stand another second of it. He clawed, hit, punched, even tried to kick at the wooden surface. After what felt like hours, he felt a part of the wood give and put all his force into that specific spot, bursting through as dirt poured down and surrounded him. He clawed his way up and out of the dirt until his head burst through the surface. He coughed and spat out dirt, pulling himself out despite his exhausted state. He took in gulps of fresh cold night air if only to reinvigorate his body with it. He lied down on the grass and turned his head to the hole that he crawled out of. It was with a gut-wrenching horror that he realized he had crawled out of his grave for right above the hole was a headstone with his name and date of birth and death.
Astarion looked down at his shaky hands that were bloody and splintered. He was too panicked to even feel the pain because all he could see was the pale white skin and the dark blue of his veins. His skin looked, well, dead.
And he supposed it made sense because Astarion was in fact, dead.
He remembered now, how those people had beat him to death. How he lied on the cold floor bleeding out and gasping for breath. How a man had approached him offering him immortality. How Astarion took the offer and then felt the cold sweet release of death only to wake up in a coffin.
“I’m undead,” he said with a shaky breath. “Gods, I’m undead!”
“No, dear Astarion.” A man approached him from the shadows, the same man that had apparently brought him back to life, or unlife he should say. “You are mine.”
Astarion didn’t know this man but he felt instant fear from the malicious smirk that grew on his features and the bright flash of his crimson eyes. Astarion’s eyes darted down to see shining glistening fangs and he suddenly realized just what he had become.
A vampire.
His tongue felt the sharp elongated set of fangs that he now sported and he was suddenly aware of a deep and painful hunger, so painful that it caused him to grab his stomach and cry out. He looked up at the man again whose smirk only grew.
“Up you go, pet. We have lots of work to do.”
If Astarion knew just what Cazador had meant by work, he would have never left his coffin. He would have rather screamed his throat raw, scratched at the wood until his nails broke off, than suffer through what Cazador put him through.
That was his name, Cazador, and he was Astarion’s master.
Astarion bled for him, starved for him, screamed for him, cried for him. That wasn’t even the worst part. What he absolutely loathed with all his undead heart was luring victims back to his master. It forced Astarion to use his body unwillingly to seduce his victims long enough to bring them back so Cazador would drain them dry.
It didn’t get easier luring people to their deaths, but it did get easier for Astarion to manipulate himself into doing it for his own survival. It wasn’t like he could completely resist if he wanted to. He was tied to his master. He had learned that the hard way when he tried to run away with sweet innocent Sebastian. He couldn’t go past the gates without his feet practically being rooted to the ground. Cazador having sensed his spawn trying to leave without his permission had come out and brought the two back inside.
Cazador made Astarion hear Sebastian’s screams before burying the elf in a casket for a year.
After that, Astarion knew better than to betray his master ever again. He became numb in his seductions, in his charms, and he became good at manipulating his victims. He got better at drowning out their screams. One thing he could never get better at was withstanding the pain that Cazador inflicted on him. Even when his master had carved a poem into his back, his screams echoed throughout the mansion.
The years passed and Astarion kept track of every single one of them. Ten became twenty, then thirty turned into fifty, and fifty turned into a hundred which turned into one hundred and sixty-one.
It was on this year that Astarion sat up with a start in the kennels, a cold sweat covering his body as he panted heavily. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating against his chest and he slowly calmed as he closed his eyes and focused on that. The soothing rhythm was something to focus on, something to distract him from the sudden adrenaline that had hit him out of nowhere and disturbed his trance.
Wait a minute.
Astarion had no heartbeat. He was dead. His heart had stopped beating 161 years ago. As this thought hit him, the heartbeat disappeared. He nearly thought he imagined it until it came back again as if it knew he was thinking about it.
He stilled, pressing his hand even harder against his chest as if he could reach inside and feel the heartbeat even more. A surge of different emotions rushed through Astarion in that moment. Anger, betrayal, fear, but underlying all of those, there was a heartbreaking happiness.
Because Astarion had just felt his soulmate come into the world.