Flowers For My Beloved

Because I Love You - Astarion

"Astarion, your hand, please."

He blinked owlishly, eyes curious while he observed you, but held out his hand anyway.

You placed a rose in his hand.

He blinked again, slowly comprehending what he was holding. He looked at the flower for a long moment, then at you.

"A rose, darling?" He smiled, "Giving this to me so suddenly, why?"

You smiled in return. Hm, why indeed?

"Because I love you."

He sputtered, obviously not expecting you to say that. He blinked several times, looking a bit distracted, as if repeating the words in his head again and again. He looked away, the tips of his ears turning red.

"Well, of course you do." He recovered with a flourish, his smile decisively brighter.

He looked at the rose, fingers coming up to gently caress the petals.

"Thank you," He said softly. "I... I will cherish this."

—

You had another rose for him, something you picked up along the way.

You approached him as he sat by the fire.

"May I touch your face, Astarion?"

He hummed, obviously pleased that you asked.

"You may."

You bent down and placed your hands on his cheeks, smiling as he sighed contently. He looked so peaceful like this. You couldn't explain it, how glad you felt, to be the reason for it.

"And this?" He asked after a moment, the flower you had for him already in his hand. "Is this for me?"

"Yes." You laughed, not surprised, and his eyes twinkled at the sound. You held out your hand. "Can I put it in your hair?"

"Of course." He handed you the flower, tilting his head towards you.

You placed the flower in his hair, gently fluffling up then patting down his curls to hide the stem. The red suited him, and you held his face again to admire him. He was beautiful, and he was lovely, especially now, now that he looked happy.

"You brought me a rose again," he said. "Why?"

"Because I love you."

He swallowed, his eyes searching yours, asking if you really meant it.

You did. Always.

He held onto you, nails digging into your clothes desperately, and his lips captured yours into a kiss.

—

"Stop right there!"

So you stopped, raising your hands in a sign of surrender, and he hummed loudly in satisfaction.

He looked you up and down, at your disheveled hair, at your dirty nails, and the small bit of mud on your boots. He closed his eyes, sniffing the air.

"You've brought flowers for me." He preened, running a hand through his hair. His grin was the widest you've ever seen from him. "Flowers. Multiple. You've outdone yourself."

He flamboyantly held out his hand. "Give it to me."

So you did, you had to, helplessly laughing as you brought out the, admittedly, messy bouquet out of your bag and placed it in his hand.

But he didn't seem to care for the mess, immediately bringing the flowers close to his chest, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.

You laughed. You didn't expect him to be so excited.

He looked at you, eyes narrowing.

"And?" His ears twitched, his eyes looking hopeful, fully expecting your answer. "Why did you bring me flowers?"

"Because I love you."

And look at him, the wondrous man, looking so happy like he had stepped into heaven itself.

—

It was night, and you couldn't sleep. Many things have happened. Too many things have happened. And you're left wondering what to do, how you're supposed to go forward.

It was a mess.

So, you decide, foolish as it was, to think of simpler things.

What flower should you give him next? That makes you smile. Another rose? Maybe a tulip? A sunflower would be nice too.

You think about how he'd react, the brilliant smile on his face, and it makes things easier.

You heard a noise, and you saw a familiar silhouette standing outside your tent. You opened the flaps, and he was there.

Astarion didn't say anything. He looked tired.

"Come in."

So he did. You sit across each other, silent, and you're unsure how to continue.

He looked like a mess. He seemed fragile. His hair was in a disarray, dark bags under his eyes, and there were small scratches on his arms. Scratches that looked like he did himself. Did he have another nightmare?

"Why," he said softly, so softly you almost didn't hear him, "Why do you always give me flowers?"

There was only one answer to that. One he wanted to hear. One you'll say again and again, as many times as he wanted.

"Because I love you."

His eyes widened, and a small sob left his throat. He crawled into your arms, hugging you tightly, his body curling into you as close as he could possibly get.

"Why," his voice was harsh, and he trembled, "why, why, why...?"

Why do all this? Why did you let him? Why be so patient?

You pressed your face against his hair, holding him closer.

"Because I love you."

—

It was strange. You found no flowers today. All the bushes you passed all without their blooms, as if they've been freshly picked. What now? What were you supposed to give him?

"Ah, there you are."

"Oh!" You turned around, and got a face full of flowers, your hands scrambling to hold the bouquet Astarion suddenly gave you.

He laughed as you stared at the bouquet in surprise, counting three, four, no maybe five different kinds of flowers. So, this was where all the flowers went!

"Astarion!" You grinned, "You got these flowers for me!"

"And, and," he goaded, his hand gesturing, "aren't you going to ask why?"

You laughed, looking at the flowers. They seemed a bit blurry. Dammit, it was too early to cry. You looked at him again. "Why did you bring me flowers?"

He stepped forward, placing his hands on your cheeks. He breathed, looking into your eyes.

"Because I love you."