Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Wait,” she said.

Astarion froze instantly, fangs touching the skin of her neck. He shivered, suppressing the low whine in the back of his throat.

“Just quickly spit into this for me.”

He pulled back to give her a completely incredulous look, only to be thwarted by the glass vial she was holding up to his face. He had to go slightly cross-eyed to read the label (written in her tidy block letters): ‘Before feeding’.

“Oh gods, does that mean there’s another for…” he stopped himself. “Wait. What I mean to say, is: what the hells?”

“Three,” she said with a grin. “Before, during and after.”

“You’ve answered the wrong question, darling.”

“Remember that one time I asked you why your spit sometimes made my blood flow more freely, but other times it closed up the bite?” Her tail twitched with excitement.

“That one time you were drunk and I had to walk you back to your tent, you mean?”

“Tipsy,” she said. “And yes! Now if you could just…”

“So you’ve interrupted this unbelievably intimate moment for spit theory?”

She didn’t even have the decency to look guilty about it. “Come on Star. Your spit could help people. Might even be valuable. Imagine that! Gale said he’d take a look. Just dribble in here for me. Please?”

He gave her a flat glare. Then closed her hand, vial and all, in his fist and lifted it to his mouth. There was really no delicate way to deposit spit into a vial, so he just worked up some saliva and spat it in.

“Thanks!” she chirped at him. He scowled at her, but let her pull his head back towards the crook of her neck.

“Don’t be such a grouchy – oh!” she squeaked as he bit her.

*******

Rin had a list of things to do.

At first, it had been quite short. She pulled the little notebook she’d taken to carrying with her out of a skirt pocket, along with the ink-less quill Gale had enchanted for her. She had a few moments now, to update it.

She was sitting on a bench in the sun, just outside Sorcerous Sundries. The stone was warm beneath her crossed legs. A lovely day, even if the smell of dust and ash still lingered in the air. She was waiting for Gale, who’d been her buddy today. They hadn’t quite shaken the habit of staying in pairs (Lae’zel would be so proud, she thought with an ache in her heart).

They’d visited Shadowheart at the makeshift Healing House in the city, where Rin had used up all the little healing magics she could sing for people, while Gale had made the most of his mage hand to help with the fallen masonry just down the road. On the way home Gale had needed some supplies for one of his projects, so they’d made the detour to the Wizard Tower.

She’d found she couldn’t make herself go inside the door. Had frozen right there at the entrance, nausea rising, pulse hammering in her ears. She could barely breathe past the memory of shackles at her wrists.

Gale had looked back at her and all she could do was shake her head.

“Of course, Rin,” he’d said quietly. “Of course. Let’s go home, it can wait.”

But she didn’t want that, either. She’d asked him to say hello to Rolan for her, assured him she’d actually like to sit in the sun for a little bit. Asked him not to make a fuss, please.

She never used to keep lists. Couldn’t, of course, because she couldn’t write. But now she found it helped her think things through. She’d never been a planner, and still wasn’t, really. But she could solve problems – and then find other people to organise the details.

She opened her little notebook to the first page. Underlined the heading.

     1. Fix Karlach’s heart.

Karlach and Wyll had sent word (thank the gods, for Gale and his clever little sending stones) that they were safe at the House of Hope. Apparently, the House itself was far larger than they had realised from their brief burglary a couple of weeks ago. They were exploring the lower levels at the moment, and taking time to rest.

Karlach said it was the closest she’d ever had to a holiday, and Rin couldn’t help but smile at the memory of her voice in the stone. She’d sounded happy. Which she always did, of course. But it was a relief, that she could sound happy in the hells.

Rin jotted down a couple of ideas for the problem of the heart.

• Break into Steel Foundry Ask Ulder very nicely for notes and stuff from Steel Foundry.
• Convince Gondians to fix heart (with notes and stuff? Bargain?).
• Take/send Gondians to the hells?
• Find more infernal metal.
• Maybe Dammon?

She tapped the quill against her lips, considering. This actually seemed like a pretty good plan. It involved no crimes (any more) and basically no risk! Plus everyone involved in this (fantastically detailed, now that she thought about it) plan owed her a favour or two. Their lives, even! This would be easy peasy.

Encouraged, she turned to the second page.

     2. Sort the spawn business.

This one was a little more tricky. It was seven thousand problems, after all. Possibly involving much more complicated planning and logistics than she was used to. The page was already filled with crossed out ideas. She ripped the whole thing out (casting a guilty look over her shoulder, in case Gale had emerged to witness this sacrilege), and started again.

The spawn problem was one she didn’t really want to take responsibility for. She probably wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t for Astarion. He himself avoided talking (and thinking, if she knew him at all) about the situation below. She understood why, of course. He wasn’t ready to face it. Personally, she didn’t think he should have to, either. He wasn’t responsible for saving everyone, as he had so often told her when she had her heroic impulses.

But she also remembered what he had said, down in that foul dungeon.

“I’ll make this decision, so if it goes wrong, the guilt will be mine.”

He’d buried enough guilt, deep inside himself. He might not look at it. Hells, she didn’t really know whether he was even aware of it. But she knew how guilt weighed on the soul. He didn’t need any more. So she had decided she would make sure this wasn’t going to be a horrible disaster.

She started the page again.

• Find someone smarter to fix this problem.

She frowned a little, chewing her lip. Aurelia had apparently taken charge, down below. Rin had limited information, except for the one reply she’d received so far, when she used the stone paired with the one they’d given Aurelia.

“Our control of the spawn is tenuous. Aid welcome, but do not come. His presence would worsen conflict.”

The spawn’s tone had been clipped and business-like, and Astarion’s face had closed all the way down, when Rin relayed the words.

She put quill to paper again.

• Find a lot of blood. Without killing a lot of things
• Visit Mushroom people for help? No, she said to stay away
• Charities? Temples? Find a god that is not evil and also doesn’t mind undead?
• Talk to Society of Brilliance. They want to make the Underdark nice. They like research.
• Spit project? Bargain?
• Ravenguard?
• Get nice reporter (was her name Lens?) to write sad story. Underdark Refugees?
• Fundraisers (how??) Donors? Patrons?

Rin looked at her list, a little dissatisfied, but not completely discouraged. She was pretty sure there were some ideas there that might stick. The Stormshore Tabernacle was on the way back, and Vicar Humbletoes was always happy to see her, and to offer advice. She could ask him about nice but not overly judgmental gods.

She nodded to herself, turning another page.

     3. Make Astarion sunproof.

She knew being a sunproof cat was working reasonably well. But he deserved a full life in the sun, as a man. She didn’t think he would stay happy, being a cat half the time. And she was a little bit desperate to find ways to make sure he would be happy, for reasons she didn’t want to look at too closely. So while this wasn’t quite as urgent as the first two problems, she spent a little time writing down ideas.

• Artifacts?
• Spells?
• Wizards?
• Bargains with gods devils fae.
• Avoid bargains.

She sighed, and turned the page to consider the problem she had carefully not written down. This problem, she didn’t want anyone to get a look at, should they peek over her shoulder. She stared at the blank page and imagined underlining her thought:

     4. Make the kraken go away.

She had no ideas to list, even just in her head. As usual, when she considered the eldritch abomination that apparently lived in her head now, a prickling sense of unease washed over her. How many horrifying tentacled creatures should one person be expected to deal with, really?

And… it was probably fine. The world had been saved, so she could go back to doing what she did before. She would avoid using the dangerous magics. The kraken had been asleep for years after she called it into being. It could go back to sleep. Surely it would, if she just ignored it? Perfect. Good thing she hadn’t wasted the page by writing anything down.

Something bumped into her leg, and she looked down to see a white cat at her feet. He was very handsome. Sleek and lithe, with a luxuriously fluffy tail that he flicked side-to-side lazily.

“Hello gorgeous,” she said, leaning down to offer him her hand.

He bumped his head into her palm, tilting to the side for a scratch behind the ear.

“You took too long,” he told her. “The day has become unbearably tedious. I only had Halsin to talk to and he insisted we visit the orphans at the Highberry house. Do you know how many children pet against the grain?” He shivered at the memory. “They are lucky I am so magnanimous, today. I did not claw a single one. And only bit very gently. Mostly.”

“Aw” she said, giving him the kind of firm strokes that made him arch his spine into her hand. “You are as merciful as you are terrifying.”

“Aren’t I just?” he purred, and if cats could do rakish looks, that was definitely what he was doing.

“Oh, excellent!” Gale called, hurrying up to them with a grin on his face. “Rolan just gave me a whole bagful of Speak with Animals scrolls! We’ll be able to chat as we walk now!”

“Fantastic,” Astarion deadpanned. Rin snorted, trying to disguise it as a cough.

“I will take that to be delighted enthusiasm,” Gale said with a smile, pulling out a scroll.

*******

Astarion had taken to riding on Gale’s shoulder sometimes, when he was a cat. He enjoyed the height, and the luxury of having someone else do the walking for him. Rin’s shoulders were a little too small. He suspected maybe Gale was missing his cat (tressym, he corrected himself) back in Waterdeep, because the wizard didn’t object at all.

Very convenient, for Astarion.

Rin was insisting they stop at the Tabernacle on the way home. He found he didn’t mind as much as he might have a few weeks ago. The last time they were here she had sung a song that filled the temple in a very pleasing way. Maybe she would do that again.

“You don’t mind, Gale?” Rin asked as they approached the doors. “I could meet you at home if it’s a bit awkward?”

Astarion supposed no one really enjoyed frequenting the places their ex might turn up.

“No, it’s fine. We… have put the past to rest. We’re on good terms.”

“Since you gave up godhood and handed her an incomprehensibly powerful artifact?” Astarion asked.

“Yes,” Gale said.

“And in return she didn’t smite you for not blowing yourself up?”

Gale sighed. “That’s not really–”

“How gracious.” Astarion drawled. “She seems lovely. We should invite her for tea sometime.”

“Are you quite done?” Gale asked. “Better finish up before I open the doors. She might hear you and accept the invitation.”

Rin snickered. Astarion shut his mouth, and flicked his tail. Gale pushed the doors open, and they entered the dim light of the Tabernacle. The Temple to Many Gods. Incense curled in the quiet air. The place was empty, even though all the altars were overflowing with offerings.

Gods do well, Astarion thought bitterly, in times of crisis.

The only other soul there, the halfling vicar who ran the place, looked up from his desk. His face broke into a sunny smile when he spotted them, and he stood to open his hands in a welcoming gesture.

“Rin, so pleased to see you safe and well still.” He turned to Gale. “Mr. Dekarios, a pleasure.”

“Vicar,” Rin said, matching his smile. “We’ve come to tell you a story and perhaps hear your advice.”

“Oh?” Humbletoes’ raised an eyebrow and tipped his head toward Gale’s shoulder. “Is it a story about how your friend has turned into a cat and become touched of a goddess?” He turned his gaze to Astarion, who immediately put his ears back.

“No… what?” Rin spluttered.

“Which one?” Gale asked at the same time.

Humbletoes shrugged. “Perhaps it is worth a conversation sometime. Surely he has some idea. Otherwise, well. Clarity comes in its own time. If you did not come to discuss that, then perhaps you would like some insight into your own visitation, from your childhood?”

“Um,” Rin blinked at him.

Gale’s head snapped around, nearly tipping Astarion off his shoulder. “Wait, what? What?”

“She actually came here to tell you about the ravenous horde of vampire spawn, currently squatting somewhere below the city,” Astarion said, taking a gamble on being understood, and hoping to throw the insufferable know-it-all off balance.

“Ah, of course.” The vicar said as if they were discussing the weather. Of course Humbletoes had animal speak, Astarion thought. Fucking serene and mysterious clerics were absolutely his least favourite flavour of holy man.

“Are you hoping to save, or to destroy them?” The vicar asked.

Astarion narrowed his eyes in suspicious annoyance.

“Um. Save? I just wanted some advice on which order of clerics might be willing to give aid.” Rin said slowly, sounding a little dumbstruck. She was rallying, though, running a hand through her hair. “They might be dangerous, like any desperate people, but they won’t drink sentient blood without consent. The aim is to help them build a community, to survive in the Underdark.” She paused. “There’s about seven thousand.”

Humbletoes was unruffled. It infuriated Astarion.

“Difficult,” Humbletoes mused.

“Because they’re undead?” Rin asked, a trace of defensiveness creeping in. “They didn’t ask to be turned.”

“Difficult because mortals are so quick to fear what they don’t understand.” His eyes softened. “Still, there are orders that may listen.”

“Such as?”

He tapped a finger against his lips in thought. “Illmater’s faithful will ever tend the suffering, regardless of origin. They may be your strongest hope for immediate aid. Lathander’s priests would be a poor choice. His light does not fall kindly on the undead.”

“No, it does not,” Rin muttered.

“Selûne,” Humbletoes went on, “has always kept a place for the lost. Even those touched by shadow. Her clerics will be cautious. But not closed. And Sune’s, perhaps. Her joy is not in judgement, but in love freely given. Some of her more radical faithful might be convinced to champion compassion, if carefully approached.”

“And the less radical ones?” Rin asked.

“They will give you perfume and poetry, and send you on your way.”

Rin huffed. “Right.”

“There are others, of course, who would be interested. Bane would have them as soldiers. Shar would happily take them into her embrace. Best tread carefully, child.”

Rin nodded. “I’ll try Illmater first. I know the Priestess at The Open Hand temple in Rivington. She owes us a favour too. Solved a murder for her, not long ago.”

Humbletoes smiled. “You have a path forward, then.”

*******

“Bad idea to involve any gods, if you ask me,” Astarion griped when they stood in the sun again.

“I don’t want to involve any gods, I just need a network of people to start helping. I don’t know anything about setting up like, infrastructure or supply… chains? Are they chains? Whatever they are, I have some ideas and quite a lot of money, but I’m not smart enough to pull it all together.” Rin sighed, rubbing her hands over her face again. “I’m certainly making no bargains. Just getting some options together.”

“Tell me you’re not planning on handing over all the money you managed to steal on our adventure, to some temple, darling.”

Rin sat down on the step in front of the temple doors. She looked so tired, he thought. He climbed into her lap so he could look her in the face. She seemed a little lost and overwhelmed. How ridiculous, when they had just saved the entire Sword Coast. She should be lazing in silk sheets letting him fuck her silly and feed her pastries after.

He supposed if he wanted to get to the good stuff he’d better help her with the list.

“Look,” he said. “There’s a heap of coin sitting in the bank from selling Cazador’s palace. Give that to Aurelia and Dal. They already spent years managing his properties. Tallying rents, keeping ledgers, running a little empire of misery. All that tedious bullshit. They know how to balance coin and resources.”

She looked up at him, surprised. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel good or… not so good.

“Forge some more signatures so Astarion Szarr can sell all of Cazador’s holdings. Should be enough to make a start, at least.”

Rin’s eyes were getting a little shiny, and he wasn’t sure why. She did sometimes get emotional about completely nonsensical things. He tipped his head to the side, and watched, as she swallowed hard before asking: “You would trust them, with the money?”

He gave a little cat-snort. “Of course not. That’s why you hire a lawyer. I may be sentimental enough to sit in your lap, darling, but I haven’t lost all my wits.”

“So what do we do then?”

“Well we don’t just hand them coin, love. We’d never see it again. We put it in a trust. Set strict terms. The money is for housing, supplies, blood procurement, whatever they need to survive. Nothing else. No one individual touches the principal, not Aurelia, not Dal, not even you or me. A lawyer administers it, with a proper council to oversee disbursements. That way, if anyone gets ambitious, and believe me, they will, all they can squabble over is who gets to sign the forms.”

“You know… you could keep all that money for yourself,” Rin said quietly. “None of us would begrudge you it. You could live like nobility, if you wanted, for years. Forever, maybe, since you’re clever with…”

He sneezed at her. “I do not want or need Cazador’s money. And if this will mean you spend less time worrying about the situation down there, and more time entertaining me…” he put a paw on her chest. “I am keeping my share of the takings from the Tollhouse and the Bank robbery though” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Cracking those safes was fucking work. I earned it.”

She laughed suddenly, and it sounded a little broken. She hugged him close and pressed her face into his fur. Which was unbelievably rude! He decided to allow it though, since he was having such a very gracious day.

“This is all very noble and I must say, I’m very impressed by your new-found philanthropic streak, Astarion.” Gale said. Astarion jumped down from Rin’s lap and licked a paw, to demonstrate how very indifferent he was to praise. Even though he obviously deserved it.

“But.” Gale’s voice was climbing a little higher. “Are we seriously just going to skip over the part where gods have been visiting you two?”