“How old are you, Astarion?”
Astarion is not expecting the question, Halsin can tell by the way he jerks upright, spine straight, shoulders strong.
“Two-hundred-and-forty,” he answers without hesitation. “Give or take a few years.”
Halsin swallows, rewords his question. “How old were you when you were turned?”
Astarion goes quiet. Extremely, cacophonously quiet.
“Thirty-nine,” he finally says, a bolt straight into Halsin’s heart.
-
Halsin discovers Astarion was turned before his maturity and all the sacred elven rites that come along with it. Including the sex one.
All Our Missing Parts by Viraaja https://archiveofourown.org/works/50705977/chapters/128090368#workskin
☆☆☆☆☆
Just plugging my halstarion/ursaminor fic because this ship has a stranglehold on me and so a moodboard had to be made.
