Chapter Text
It was three months after Tav died before Astarion met Raphael for the seventh and final conversation regarding their infernal contract, but it only took a week after that for Astarion to fulfill his end of the bargain.
Raphael’s eyes glowed with victory as Astarion stood in front of him, still covered with the blood and viscera of his battle. In one hand he held the reforged Crown of Karsus; in the other the severed head of his former companion Gale. He felt no regret—the wizard had been responsible for the death of his beloved, through nothing but Gale’s foolish pride, entitlement, and ambition for godhood. Killing him had been necessary to obtain the Crown for Raphael, but truthfully, he wouldn’t mind Raphael resurrecting Gale, again and again and again, so that Astarion could murder him in all manner of ways, over and over, just for the fun of it.
“Well,” drawled Raphael, “I have to say that I underestimated your general drive and motivation. I expected to be waiting months for this.”
“It would have been done on the first day, if I didn’t have to be so concerned with figuring out all the ways you would try to fuck me over,” Astarion said bluntly—and truthfully. He had been desperate to have his beloved back, but he had not negotiated with Raphael blindly. Their seven meetings, some of which had taken days, had been spent with Astarion going over the infernal contract with a fine-tooth comb, looking for any and all loopholes or caveats and demanding revisions when necessary.
Raphael heaved a dramatic sigh. “Yes, you really did try my patience. I have never had such a demanding supplicant. Truthfully, I would not have tolerated it were it not for what you promised me…” his eyes narrowed on the Crown, and he held out his hand expectantly.
Astarion didn’t budge. “Now it’s your turn, devil. Give me what was promised.”
Raphael waived a hand. “Yes, yes, it is as you say. Tav will be reborn. She will live to adulthood and escape any undue physical or mental harm. You will knowingly encounter her within five years of her reaching adulthood, and then you will have one month to get her to honestly profess her love for you. She will regain one memory of you per day for that month, but there are no guarantees as to what that memory will consist of. You may not tell her of the specific requirements of this contract, and you may not tell her you are in love with her before she says it to you.” At this, Astarion growled—this had been the most contentious point of the contract, and it had taken all seven meetings for Astarion to finally agree to it.
Raphael smirked and continued. “If she confesses her love within that month, she will gain back all her memories from this life, and you two little lovebirds may continue however you see fit. If she does not, then she regains all her memories anyway, and then you both die. Your safety is guaranteed until the conclusion of this contract. Tav may not be killed prior to or during that month, including by forces of nature or random accidents, and if she does, the contract is null and void, all benefits to myself are surrendered in perpetuity, et cetera, et cetera. Happy?”
Astarion narrowed his eyes, going over and over the agreement in his mind. Had he missed something? He had lain awake for weeks during the negotiations, and still had a nagging feeling that something had been overlooked.
Raphael lifted a brow. “You understand, of course, that the contract has been signed, and it is too late for revisions? I have already given you too much control over this process as it is—I suppose you caught me at a vulnerable moment. But it is too late now, vampire, and you will give me what was promised.” His tone grew menacing, and the shadows in the room deepened.
Astarion hesitated, then took one step forward. “It is done, then?”
Raphael’s glowing eyes were glued to the Crown. “Yes, it is done. I am now contractually obligated to fulfill my end of the agreement. Now, vampire, the Crown. You continue to try my patience.”
Astarion sighed, then held it out. In a blink, Raphael had seized it, then moved to the other end of the room. Every torch and brazier in the room immediately burst into towering flames, and Raphael’s face turned ecstatic as he examined every inch of the Crown, turning it over and over in his hands.
Astarion turned to leave when Raphael spoke. “Yes, my dear Vampire Ascendant, you did vex me greatly throughout this deal, and I’d have slaughtered you for it were it not for the possibility of this exact outcome. You delivered to me my reign, and I will not forget it. Besides, you should be proud—you went against a devil and negotiated the most balanced contract I believe has ever been created in the history of the hells. Really, you thought of almost everything.”
Astarion froze.
Raphael laughed. “Don’t worry, little vampire, you’ll get your beloved back, and you’ll have the opportunity to make her fall in love with you again. I will deliver everything that was promised. But my dear Astarion, you forgot one thing…you didn’t say when….”
Astarion turned with a snarl, but before he could take a single step, he had been transported out of the House of Hope in a haze of brimstone, and the last he heard of Raphael was the devil’s devious laughter.
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Five hundred years later…
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Tavriel Amakiir felt on the verge of tears, but however much she wanted to excuse herself and go have a cry in the Chanel stockroom like some of the other girls sometimes did, she knew that for her it wouldn’t be a quick, cleansing release, but instead an absolute meltdown; for her, this shitty day was just the tip of the iceberg, because it had also been a shitty week, and a really shitty month, and the absolute shittiest year of her life, out of three increasingly shitty years, and there was no relief in sight. So, she sucked it up, took a deep breath, and forced herself to paste her bland Customer Service smile on her face and continue dealing with the absolute bitch in the makeup chair in front of her. Luckily, this would likely be her last client of the day, unless it went quickly—and with this type of client, it never went quickly.
She’d been so excited when she’d gotten the Chanel Beauty Advisor job at the most high-end designer department store in Baldur’s Gate. She’d imagined being surrounded with luxury makeup, fragrance, and skincare, giving informed advice to women looking to step up their beauty routines, teaching makeup skills, and more than anything, feeling part of one of the most well-known luxury brands in Faerûn. But a mere three months working in this retail environment had consistently shown her the worst of society. Her coworkers were catty and cutthroat, stealing each other’s customers and sales. They stalked each other’s social media and gossiped about each other right on the sales floor. Tav had originally been optimistic about making friends at work, but the past three months had taught her the hard way that she couldn’t trust a single one of her coworkers, and she was really and truly on her own.
Then there were the customers, who were nasty, demanding, and entitled beyond belief. The ones that acted like they had the most money were actually the stingiest. Women came by demanding hours of her time for makeovers, with no intention of buying any product—they just wanted to tell their friends at whatever country club they visited, “Oh, yes, I had my girl at Chanel do my makeup.” Then there were some who did buy the products Tav used on them, only to walk across the store and immediately return everything at the Customer Service counter, which Tav would discover when printing off her commission statement at the register before leaving for the day.
The one in her chair right now was one of the worst types. Tav called them the Wannabe Trophy Wives—they didn’t have the money or the status yet, but by the gods, they were going to act like they did by treating anyone and everyone in the retail and service industry like absolute trash. They hopped from one rich boyfriend or sugar daddy to the next, demanding expensive designer gifts so that they could dress the part, hoping to eventually reel in a Big Fish that they could manipulate into a short-lived marriage sans prenup. This one looked about the same age as Tav, but was probably much younger, as she was only a half-elf, or maybe even a quarter, whereas Tav was a full-blooded elf with the lifespan to match. They had very similar complexions and hair colors, to the point that people could assume they were related if seen at a distance. Everything she was wearing had obnoxious designer logos and labels emblazoned, as if to make sure anything who even glanced her way would assume that she had money. However, even though Tav didn’t work in handbags, clothing, or shoes, her three months at this store had quickly taught her enough to identify that the majority of designer products with obnoxiously large labels were actually the cheapest and lowest quality products that brand had to offer—unless, of course, they were knockoffs, which happened all the time. Tav was pretty sure the Versace belt this girl had on was real, although she was fairly suspicious about the stitching on her “Louis Vuitton” bag, and she’d clocked the “Gucci” phone case and wallet immediately. She had her phone in her hand and had been Face Timing a friend the entire time Tav had been attempting to apply her makeup, which was rude beyond belief.
“So have you guys fucked yet?” the girl on the other end asked, and the girl in Tav’s chair snickered, ignoring Tav as she tried to move her chin to blend her foundation better.
“No, not yet…he’s always on about that hangup he’s got for that girl that isn’t around. But I’ll get him there eventually, it’s only a matter of time...”
“Yeah, Steph said he was always on about some soulmate he was waiting for or some shit like that. You know, she says she got him into bed, but she only started saying that after he got rid of her when she tried to go into some room he’s got locked up—”
“Yeah, there’s a room next to his that he won’t let anyone go in. Well, he lets the servants in there to clean, and I mean really, he’ll let the fucking help go in but not his girlfriend?”
The girl on the phone laughed, and to Tav’s ears it sounded snarky. “Oh, are you his girlfriend now?”
The girl in the chair frowned and jerked away from Tav, who was trying (and failing) to apply bronzer in the correct spot on both sides of her face. “Don’t be a bitch, Angela. I mean, what the fuck would you call it? He buys me shit and wants me at dinner all the time.”
“I don’t know, Kayla, he sounds like a lonely guy who just wants some company while he waits around for the one that got away.”
Kayla scowled, and it took everything Tav had in her not to sigh as she tried to apply the eyeshadow correctly. “It’s so fucking stupid, Ange. Like, he told me about her like it was a fucking disclaimer, like making sure I knew that as soon as she shows up, I’m out.”
“Well, I mean, at least he’s honest about it—you won’t be, like, thinking there’s a future there and then get blindsided. Why don’t you just take him for all he’s worth right now? You can get tons of shit off him, I bet, you know he’s loaded—”
Kayla actually stomped her foot on the rung of the chair, and Tav reared back with the spoolie before she accidentally smeared mascara all over her face.
“But it’s bullshit, Ange! I’m not fucking sitting around accepting second place, I’m a fucking catch—”
“Then just leave, girl! Gods, you’ve gotta make everything into a fucking competition. Stop being so obsessed with winning. You’re the only one playing the game in this situation.”
Kayla jerked away from Tav to hiss at the phone, and this time Tav couldn’t stop it—mascara smeared badly under her eye, a wet, black streak over the perfect makeup that had been almost complete, and Tav felt like she actually was going to cry now, because now she’d have to redo the whole side of her face.
“I fucking told you, Ange, he’s so fucking hot, and he’s so fucking rich, and I’m not gonna give this up to some fucking bitch he’s hung up on, I’m not—why are you laughing?” Angela was laughing hysterically, and then Kayla zoomed in on her face on Facetime and saw the mascara.
“Oh my fucking gods, what the fuck did you do?” she gasped, and shoved Tav back so that she could hop down from the makeup chair—but as she did it, the phone fell out of her hand, and hit the marble floor hard, and the knockoff Gucci phone case split in half, and the phone bounced right side up to show that the screen was completely shattered.
For a moment they could both just gape at it, and then Tav closed her eyes, knowing what was coming. The other girls at the counter had retreated, leaving Tav alone to deal with the imminent scene.
“I want—” Kayla hissed, and pointed a finger directly in Tav’s face, “—to talk to your manager. Right. Fucking. Now.”
Before Tav could say a word, a male voice spoke up someplace behind her.
“Oh, Kayla, what is it now?”
Kayla’s entire expression and posture changed in an instant. Even her voice changed—it went up an octave and turned breathier than usual. “Honey,” she whined, and pointed at her shattered phone on the floor, “this idiot broke the brand-new phone you just got me, and—” she sniffled, and blinked her eyes rapidly like she was trying to get them to tear up, “—she messed up my makeup, and I was trying to look nice for—”
The man behind Tav sighed. “This is the fourth time with this. Maybe if you stopped being such a—” he trailed off as Tav stepped back and turned to face him. He had a shopping bag in his hand, but the handle slipped over his knuckles and hit the floor with a thud—but he didn’t grab for it, or even flinch at the noise. He was too busy staring at Tav, completely motionless, and Tav was staring right back. Then he opened his mouth, and only one word came out, in a tortured gasp, and it was her name.
Tav knew this face. She knew this face. It was as familiar to her as her own. Dark red eyes, and silver hair in thick waves, with pointed ears just poking through; a strong jawline, full lips, white teeth, pale skin. Yes, everything about him was incredibly familiar, so she absolutely knew him.
But at the same time, there was no way she knew him, because he was the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. Looking at him was almost physically painful, because he was so unattainably gorgeous, and if she had ever seen him before, she never would have forgotten the moment, not in a thousand years—and she had no idea who he was. So how could she know his face, when she was certain she would also remember the experience of laying eyes on him for the first time? But she knew that her knees suddenly felt wobbly, and she felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She actually staggered for a moment, before bracing herself against the makeup counter behind her. And she felt like an absolute idiot, but only one word came to mind looking at him, and she opened her mouth and actually said it. “…Star?”
His face crumpled, like he was trying, and failing, not to cry, and in two long strides he abandoned his fallen bag, stepped right over the shattered phone, and wrapped his arms around Tav, burying his face in her hair. “Gods,” he gasped against her, “Gods—Tav—I can’t believe—”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Kayla muttered in disbelief from somewhere to the side.
He smelled familiar. Comforting. Smoky, herbal, and faintly citrus. Like she wanted to wrap herself in his clothes and just breathe, because the scent gave her the most intense feeling of déjà vu. She tried desperately to think of where, and when, she remembered his fragrance from, some moment that would pop clearly into her mind, because of course she knew it—but nothing came, just the feeling of knowing it while knowing nothing at all.
He was quietly murmuring something, but everything was muffled by her hair, and she couldn’t make it out. She felt torn, because on the one hand being wrapped in his arms felt completely natural and comfortable; on the other, she had absolutely no idea who he was, and he was clinging to her and stifling sobs into her hair while she was on the clock next to the Chanel counter with coworkers and his (presumed) girlfriend standing and gawking at them.
Finally, she pulled away, and he immediately released her, though he kept his hands resting lightly on her shoulders, as though he was afraid to stop touching her. She glanced up at his face, then immediately darted her gaze back down to somewhere mid-torso, because he really was so incredibly gorgeous that looking at him straight-on caused a pang in her chest. “I’m sorry,” she managed, fully expecting him to be offended by what she said next, “I don’t…I don’t know you…do I?”
To her surprise, he huffed out a laugh. “Darling, that’s a loaded question, because you do, and you don’t. But I’d like to explain…can we go somewhere and talk?” His hands still hadn’t left her shoulders, and he was absently stroking her with both of his thumbs.
The forgotten Kayla piped up. “Honey, are you serious? The shopgirl? I thought this soulmate of yours was supposed to be someone important, not a shopgirl who just fucked up my makeup!”
His face immediately darkened with fury, and he went from unbearably handsome to unbearably sinister in an instant, and Tav hunched her shoulders and instinctively jerked away from him. He hesitated as he noticed her discomfort, but he squeezed her shoulders reassuringly before rounding on the petulant Kayla. Everything about him, from his expression to his posture, became threatening. He leaned into Kayla, who abruptly looked terrified and backed away from him until she was standing against one of the counters.
“I am done with you,” he said, enunciating clearly and staring unblinkingly at her. “Leave me. I do not want to see you again.”
And then the damnedest thing happened. Tav had expected an outburst or tantrum, or at the very least an argument, from the girl. But instead, Kayla’s entire expression smoothed out, and she went from panicked to completely calm and composed. Without a word, she turned and walked smoothly away from him, stopping only to grab her purse and shattered phone, and then left without a backward glance, still sporting the massive smear of black mascara down the side of her face.
He turned back to Tav with a sigh. “Apologies, darling. Pay her no mind.” He straightened up, then in an unbelievably outdated but overwhelming courtly and romantic gesture, he took her hand, then bowed over it and kissed it. “My name,” he said, as he straightened (but didn’t let go of her hand), “is Astarion Ancunín. You and I have a very, very long and complicated history that you don’t remember. But you will, and I’m sorry that it will probably be a very unsettling process. Could we…” he hesitated, and the hand still holding hers tightened briefly. “Could we maybe go somewhere, and I can explain?”
Tav looked at her watch. “I’m about done, but I have to clean up—"
“I’ll wait,” he said quickly. “I’ll wait, as long as it takes, I don’t care.”
Tav nodded hesitantly. “Okay…”
“And then, when you’re done, where would you like to go? We can go anywhere you want, and then we can talk. It will…it will take some time.”
Tav thought rapidly. “There’s…there’s a Starbucks, with a bunch of outdoor seating, further down the shopping center…”
“Yes, that’s perfect! I’ll wait, and then when you’re done, we can go there and talk. I will explain everything, darling, I promise.” He leaned in quickly and kissed her cheek, and Tav felt beyond overwhelmed, because it felt completely normal and natural, but at the same time the situation was so completely bizarre that she knew objectively that none of this was normal, and she should be feeling on edge.
He backed away, but hesitated, and then, like he couldn’t help himself, brushed his fingers down her cheek. The whole time, since he’d first laid eyes on her and dropped his bag in shock, he’d gazed at her like he couldn’t believe she was real, and the intensity was too much for Tav to bear, because she felt it too, and had no idea why.
As she cleaned up all the makeup brushes and put away the testers, she was hyper-aware of his gaze on her from where he stood away at the end of the beauty department. Her Chanel coworkers had pulled away from her and stood at the other end of the counter, whispering to each other and staring, and then they started whispering with the girls at the other counters, until Tav felt like everybody in the department was just staring at her. She felt wretchedly uncomfortable, and that was saying something since she had always felt like an outsider in the store.
When she was finally done, she clocked out at the register and began to make her way to where Astarion stood, and as she passed every counter she heard the whispered speculation and felt the stares. She didn’t know what the conversation with Astarion was going to be like, but with the way she was feeling, she was beginning to regret that she hadn’t had a good cry in the stockroom after all.