The Quest for Dawn

Chapter 8: Like This, With You

The journey was short. Astarion let himself be guided by his arm, the staff lifted in their haste. A quick walk across the wooden floorboards and up a narrow flight of stairs. Tav knew he could manage it well enough now, but her fingers lightly gripped his arm, ready to steady him if he needed. She felt his muscles tense beneath her touch; the walk might have been short, but the emotional distance felt like miles.

Unlocking the door to their room, Tavriel let Astarion in first. The room was modest but comfortable, a small space filled now with the familiar scent of bergamot and lilacs, lingering from their belongings they had stored there earlier. She closed the door behind them, being sure to bolt the door. If Astarion needed time, she would be sure to give him all the time he needed without interruptions. Concern for him came too easily these days.

Astarion's movements were slow, as if deep in thought. He leaned his staff against the wall near the door, his back to her, his head bowed. His hand found the wall to follow, slow and careful steps taken to reach the headboard of the bed. There he stayed standing, as if considering some enigmatic puzzle within his own mind. Tav watched him, her heart in her throat.

"Something to drink?" she asked, gesturing at a small table bearing a flagon of wine and two goblets, realizing a second too late, and added, "Wine, perhaps?"

A small, almost unnoticeable smile twitched at the corners of his lips. He faced her direction, "I find myself thirsting for something else."

Tav felt her pulse quicken at his words. Taking a slow step toward him, she carefully loosened the fastenings of his doublet, preparing him to be more comfortable. She was close enough now to see the slight tremble in his hands, the only outward sign of his internal storm.

"Did you like it?" she finally asked, barely above a whisper. "The song?"

Astarion kept his head down as she worked the fastenings, tilting forward to take in the delicate scent of her hair. "Your voice is like a splash of color in a world that's turned gray. It... illuminated things for me."

Tavriel pulled away just enough. Though his crimson eyes appeared so far away, she met them with her own. In that moment, words felt trivial. Astarion felt her lean in, her lips finding his; a reaffirmation, a silent promise. In an instant, his arms flew around her, clinging her to him. The kiss deepened, and all their uncertainties seemed to melt away.

He kissed her as if he had crossed a barren wasteland to reach a lush oasis, his lips devouring hers with desperate thirst. "I want you," he growled hungrily against her mouth. His tongue delved deep to taste her, stealing her breath. Tavriel grasped at his doublet, and Astarion practically tore it off. It landed somewhere in the dark, and it didn't matter where. He lifted his hands to her face, finding the lush warmth of her lips again, pulling her impossibly close.

Drinking his fill of her, he slowly pulled away, his hands cradling both sides of her face. Their foreheads pressed together, their breaths mingled, before his hands began to explore her form; fingers feeling for the laces of her bodice. They loosened under his expert touch, languidly drawing the ribbons out from eyelets. The bodice dropped to the floor. Tav saw his eyes searching for her. Astarion relented instead, dipping his head to her neck, kissing down the line of her shoulder. His fingers traveled and found the ties of her chemise, as he lay kisses on her skin, tugging down fabric over the curve of her shoulders. It fell into a pool of cotton where she stood.

Nude and shivering, Tavriel pressed her body against the strength of his frame. Her fingers plucked at the hem of his shirt, trailing up his spine to explore the cool skin beneath. With a delicate touch, she traced the sculpted lines and scars of his back, as if afraid to elicit any further pain. His face was buried in her fragrant hair, letting out a breathy murmur.