Prompt: Astarion has a nightmare in the Underdark.
Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort
Note: A small prompt because I needed soft Astarion for once :)
You rest peacefully, enjoying the calm breathing of Astarion beside you. Your bodies naturally meld together, having grown so accustomed to sharing the same bedroll since the first night you spent together, both seeking the closeness of having another body or soul. Suddenly, the elf begins to mumble, and his breathing grows rough and fast. His nightmares have really worsened since they entered the underdark, the scenery reminding him too much of his old life in the shadows.
His mumbling quickly starts scalating.
"No, please... Cazador... please..."
The elf's breathing is shallow, his face scrunched in agony.
"Please, not the rats again... Not the blood... please..."
Rising from your bedroll, you gently shake Astarion.
"Hey," you whisper gently. "Hey, Astarion..."
Despite your efforts, he continues to twist and hyperventilate.
"N-No! Please! I'll do as yo-you say, just don't..." Desperation echoes in his pleading voice.
You climb on top of him, shaking forcefully to pull him from his nightmare. "Astarion! You're not there! Wake up!"
He awakens with a sharp inhale and a shiver, pupils dilated, body trembling. His breathing is heavy, and tears stream down his cheeks. You breathe a sigh of relief, taking a moment to gently wipe away the tears with your thumbs.
"You're okay," you whisper softly, your voice comforting. "Cazador is very far away. You are safe now."
His tear-streaked gaze meets yours, but the sobbing lingers, accompanied by quivering breaths and trembling body. He wraps his arms around you, his tears soaking your shirt. Even if he's awake and no longer dreaming you can't seem to put his mind at ease. He squeezes you, tightly, as if this is the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
His intense reaction catches you off guard; it's the first time you have seen him this affected by a nightmare. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close to your body and gently caressing his bare back in a soothing rhythm. Gradually, his body relaxes, and the sobs subside into quiet sniffles against your chest.
"Was it a bad one?" you whisper, your lips brushing against his hair.
Astarion doesn't withdraw; instead, he melts into your embrace, burying his head in the crook of your neck. There's a pause before he speaks, inhaling slow, shaky breaths until the shuddering subsides. In a weak, hoarse voice, he finally responds, "Yes..." but he remains tightly pressed against your body. "Cazador..." he manages to say, as if uttering the vampire's name demands a considerable effort.
You silently nod in understanding, letting one of your hands move up to gently bury in his hair, fingers caressing the soft strands. "Is it the darkness? Does it make it worse?" you ask softly.
"Dark... yes... and the caves... so... many caves..." his voice still trembles. "It's... too dark here," he murmurs against your chest.
"We're all a bit frightened of the dark at times. A little light can make it more bearable," you reply softly, conjuring dancing lights with a subtle flick of your wrist. The small tent is then bathed in a gentle glow, pushing back the shadows and offering a comforting radiance.
Gradually, he starts to relax in your arms, but to your surprise, doesn't release his hold on you.
"This...this is better," he sighs, "Thank you... I really miss the sun," he says softly.
You smile against his hair, murmuring, "I know you do. We'll be back up in no time. I promise."
Though you can't see his face, the way he seems to curl into you adds an intimate air.
"Could you hold me?" he asks, uncertainty lacing his words.
The request surprises you, causing your heart to squeeze, but you conceal the reaction, not letting it show. Under normal circumstances, you would have messed with him for his tender disposition. However, this moment feels too delicate to disrupt, so you simply nod in silence. You lie back down on the bedroll, guiding his head to rest on your chest, fingers gently threading through his hair once more.
As his breathing gradually slows, the only audible sound is his own quiet exhales. He's so close that you can feel his cold body, the velvety touch of his soft skin against your own.
"Thank you," he says quietly, so softly that you almost can't hear him. The tiny lights seem to dance in his hair, creating a somewhat angelic aura around him.
You tighten your embrace around his frame, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head before closing your eyes. A quiet sigh escapes him, and in the gentle ambiance created by the dancing lights above and the distant, faint sounds outside the tent, neither of you utters a word. The space is transformed into something more than a tent – in that fleeting moment, an unexpected sense of home envelops you both.
