Bound by You: Love is Power, Love is Weakness
Part 3: Dissent
Part 2 Here
Word count: 1k
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Ascended Astarion x gn!AFAB Resist Durge/Reader Warnings: 18+
AO3 link: Dissent
Summary: Stressed from your duties, Astarion tries to help relieve your tension. It doesn't end well as he's forgotten something deeply important to you.
You pace back and forth in your bedroom, shifting between holding your arms and biting your nails. The anniversary celebration was in a little under two months and there was still so much left to get done.
“My treasure, if you keep worrying about this you’ll burden your beautiful face with wrinkles,” Astarion said casually as he read a book while sprawled out on your bed.
You ignore him, choosing instead to find your journal that contains some of your notes. Quickly flipping through the pages, you try to see if there’s anything you could work on right now. Your head is so buried in the notebook that you don’t notice your lover get up from the bed.
He snatches the book out of your hand and teases you, “My love, weren’t you the one who said ‘no work in the bedroom’?” You try to get the journal back, but it’s all in vain. As soon as you reach for it, Astarion grabs your hand and twirls you around yourself until your back is pressed against his body, his arms wrapped around you. “You need to relax, darling. Your shoulders are tensed and your jaw is clenched. And whether or not you meant it, I can feel your stress.”
You feel guilt for a second as you remember that after Astarion turned you into his consort, you were both able to speak silently to each other. You were also able to feel any strong emotion from the other, whether that be lust, despair, or in this case, stress. The guilt lasts only a second as Astarion is part of the reason you’re so stressed to begin with.
“Good,” you say with a bite, “it’s your fault I’m feeling this way.”
He releases his hold on you and spins you around to face him, and you look to the side to avoid his eyes. “What do you mean my fault.” He hooks a finger under your chin and moves your head to be facing his but you avert your gaze. “Love,” he says with a gentle sternness, “when I said that you would never need to worry or want for anything again, I meant it. Yet now you’re saying that I’m the one causing you despair?”
You sigh and pinch your brows, finally meeting his eyes as your hand falls to your side. To any other person, it would look like he’s looking at you with care, but you’ve been with him long enough to know that the concern he shows is due to his insecurity as an overlord. He gave you everything you’d ever want and anything you ever could want. He tended to your needs and would sometimes indulge you with domestic intimacy — handholding, caresses, and cuddles — anything to keep you happy. Although it’s not perfect, it’s his way of showing you love, and you appreciate it all the same.
“The planners don’t take me seriously and we’re a tenday behind schedule.” As you say this, a flicker of confusion crosses his eyes before it’s gone, replaced with a calculated smile.
He leads you towards the bed, throwing the journal off to the side. “Little love, everything will fall into place,” he says while placing chaste kisses along your neck. “You don’t need to worry about this. Who cares—”
You push him off of you and stare at him incredulously. “Who cares? I care, Astarion. This anniversary banquet will be the first time all our friends will have the time to be together in a long time.”
He scoffs as he readjusts his night clothes. “We can always figure out another time to have your friends visit us. Besides, 17 years is a weird time to have any anniversary.” As soon as he finishes the sentence, his eyes snap up to yours as he feels the sadness from you, watching the tears start to form in your eyes.
“You’re unbelievable,” you choke out. He takes a step toward you only for you to take 3 steps back. Had he really forgotten?
“What? It’s true. Usually, anniversaries are every 50, 10, or 5 years. I’ve yet to see a celebration for a 17th anniversary, but since you were so insistent on it…” Astarion trails off as his eyes glaze over as if he’s lost in thought. His eyes are staring deep into your soul as you silently cry. It takes too long for him to remember, and as soon as he does, he looks genuinely fearful. “Our annivers-” he gasps.
You cut him off, making your way towards the notebook. “I need to be alone right now.” You push past him as he stands unmoving, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Don’t follow me,” you say as you slam the door behind you.
You quickly run through the hall, ignoring the questions from the servants. You make your way into the morning room that was recently turned into your own personal parlor. When you suggested holding the event planning meetings in the library, Astarion scoffed and brushed aside your idea. The next day, the room that received the most sunlight was bustling with servants moving furniture around. “What would everyone say if they saw my consort sequestered in that dreadfully musty library? Now, everyone will see your striking beauty as you command the room.”
You shake off the memory and make your way to your seat. Papers are strewn about the table, half of them containing illegible scribbles. You sit down and immerse yourself in the work until the dawn light starts to seep into the room. You decide to rest your head for a bit, your cheeks stained with tear marks and your eyes sore.
When you awake, there’s a blanket draped across your body and a glass of water on the table. You gulp down the water and shrug off the blanket before making your way to your changing room. You aren’t sure what time it is, but it’s surely almost time to meet with the caterers to finalize the menu. As you leave the room, you quietly thank the servant standing on guard for the blanket and the water.
He bows his head as he replies. “My apologies, Lady Ancunin, but it was not my doing. The Lord ordered me to keep watch after leaving the room.”
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