Taran had purchased a small house on the edge of the city for them, close enough they could help with rebuilding efforts but far enough no one would notice that one half of their new neighbors only came out at night. Taran was searching for a way to protect him from the sun, using Gale as a mediary between herself and the wizard's colleges. But for now he stayed in during the day, and they boarded up the west-facing window.
It was a decent little life they were starting to build. Taran was starting to get itchy feet, not having stayed in one place for more than a month in the past decade, but admitted that having somewhere to come back to was nice.
They were laying in bed, Taran propped up against Astarion's chest. He had already fed, the two of them just relaxing in each other's company.
Taran gave a little sigh, their third such in the past fifteen minutes, and he glanced down to the marks from his bite. Nothing appeared wrong there, and she was very careful to tell him when they needed him to stop. Not a physical malady, then, or at least not one he could see from here.
"Are you alright, darling?" he asked quietly, and she tipped her head up to look at him.
"I'm fine, love. Just…thinking about how long this will last."
Astarion stiffened at the words, his arm tightening around their shoulders.
"I had rather hoped for…well, forever, to be honest." He forced levity into the words to mask the rising panic.
"Oh, of course," she said, and the band around his chest eased somewhat. Careless words, he told himself. It wasn't the first time she'd sent him into a panic with thoughtless phrasing, and he doubted it would be the last. "Or at least, as close to it as I can get," they continued, and he heard the unease in her voice.
"What do you mean?" She shifted to sit up next to him more fully, rather than resting against him, and took his hand when it fell from around her shoulders.
"Just that…my forever looks a lot different from yours." Their fingers tightened around his, running their thumb over his knuckles. "Even if you weren't…if you hadn't been turned."
Ah. Astarion raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. "I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind," he admitted. "If there were some magic that would keep you with me, I'd kill my way across this whole stupid continent to get it."
She smiled. "Your overtures of wanton murder are always so romantic."
"I try to only make promises within my skill set," he said, matching their smile. "Darling, don't let this keep you up at night. One, that's my job - " She gave him a chiding glance that was immediately ruined by a grin. " And two, we have another century before we have to worry about it."
They sighed, looking down the bedspread. "I'm not so sure. Who knows what the -" She gestured at the side of her head. "The everything did to me? Not to mention the decade and a half of rough living before that."
Astarion pulled her to him, wrapping both arms around her and pressing a kiss into their hair. "However long we have left," he said, resting his forehead against her temple, "I will spend every day with you, and every night, and every midafternoon and twilight and early luncheon - " He trailed off as she broke into giggles, leaning in against him to rest her head on his shoulder, mindful of her horns.
"And when you are old and shriveled enough to give Jaheira a run for her money - " He paused as another giggle bubbled up out of her. "I will carry you up and down stairs, and read the small letters that you can no longer see, and you will not know a minute without my presence." He kissed the top of their head. "And if that's what forever looks like for us, then so be it."
"I think I could live with that kind of forever," she murmured, and Astarion pulled them both back to settle against the headboard once more.
"So could I, darling. So could I."