Ascended Astarion

Astarion sat upon his throne, surrounded by the haunting grandeur of his hall, illuminated only by the soft, flickering glow of candles casting shadows across the marble floor. Below, guests swayed in dance, stealing anxious glances at their Lord — his reputation as a bloodthirsty ruler had spread far across the Sword Coast. And yet, with you, he seemed a different man. You were comfortably settled on his lap, feeling the possessive hold of his arm wrapped around your waist, as if you were his most precious treasure. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, and his crimson gaze — usually cold and intimidating — was now softened, filled with a tenderness meant only for you. How about another glass of wine, my darling? His voice was soft, almost a purr, meant only for your ears, laced with a warmth he kept hidden from the world. Everyone else feared even a single glance from Astarion.