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Scared.
A feeling Astarion had known all too well, but confusingly enough, another emotion churned just beneath.
Disgust.
How many emotions could two little lines on a stick he’d just pissed on possibly unearth?
Anger.
He tossed the stick against the wall and slid down, knees pressed against his chest. He was so fucking stupid, and so was Gale. Their little experiment with Corellon’s blessing had gone awry. In fact, it had not worn off yet. The floor length mirror revealed his feminine features still intact from weeks ago. The Elven god had some sort of sick sense of humor, it seemed. His breasts throbbed, aching in a way he’d never felt. Somewhere deep inside him, something was growing.
And just like that, his body was no longer his.
Again.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“Pregnant?! Gods, Astarion, this is…” Gale stood, then sat again, hands rubbing together in that familiar pattern Astarion recognized when he was excited. “This is… Great! I mean, I never considered myself a father, but… We could, it’s great, right?”
The way Gale’s eyes lit up with pure elation made Astarion feel even more guilty.
“It is, it’s great,” Astarion lied, forcing a smile.
Arms enveloped him, and he did find some comfort as Gale rocked him with unbridled joy. Maybe it would be great, he and Gale and a… baby. Astarion had never cared for children. They were messy, loud, and put their tiny fingers on everything. But maybe he’d come around to it.
He just needed time.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Being waited on hand and foot was definitely a plus, Gale was always a generous husband but being pregnant somehow amplified it to… this.
Spread before him was a breakfast he couldn’t dare hope to eat in one sitting. Meats, pastries, tea, coffee, and finger foods galore spilling over the serving tray. He adjusted it to accommodate his pooching stomach, already stretching one of his favorite shirts.
“Darling, did you prepare breakfast for me or the whole of the Waterhavian army? If I eat all this, you’ll have to forklift me from this bed.” He picked up two cups, holding them in front of Gale incredulously. “Really? Coffee and tea? Entirely too much caffeine, I’ll be jittering right out of my skin.”
“Well I wasn’t sure if you were in the mood for either, so I brought both just in case! Also,” Gale rummaged in his sleeve, and pulled out a bouquet of flowers, “to brighten your day.”
It was sickeningly sweet, and he watched Gale neatly tuck them into a vase at Astarion’s bedside. Then he departed, happiness radiating from a grin spread ear to ear. And as soon as he was gone, Astarion slumped, appetite completely shot. Whether from the ongoing nausea or the mounting anxiety, he wasn’t sure.
Squashing quite possibly the happiest he had ever seen Gale seemed out of the question. He dumped several food items into a bag and hid it beneath the bed for disposal later, so Gale wouldn’t ask questions. It was easier that way.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Gale’s hand smoothed over the surface of Astarion’s stomach, swollen and uncomfortable.
“Oh! I felt them! Gosh, it’s so unreal.”
Astarion was inclined to agree with that statement, albeit with much less of an enthusiastic demeanor. He’d been in a woman’s body for 8 months now, and the whirlwind of sexual experimentation was long over. Pain shot down his hip and leg continuously, his lower back throbbed with intense discomfort, and he’d stumbled to the bathroom two dozen times a day. No position was comfortable, even on his side now as the skin pulled. He hadn’t seen his feet in weeks, and Gale had to help him tie his shoes. In the mirror, he no longer saw himself.
And worst of all, he felt guilty and selfish, because he missed his husband’s attention. Gale seemed only concerned with the baby, talking about it endlessly, decorating rooms, buying it clothes, and rubbing his stomach. He’d felt like a walking incubation chamber, people poking and prodding as if he housed an exotic animal and he was simply its enclosure.
He’d dare not mention it, as he’d been told it was a blessing. That he should be grateful, others aren’t and will never be blessed with the gift of children.
But there was nothing but resentment, resentment toward Corellon for allowing this to happen, to Gale for being delighted while he suffered, and worst of all, toward the thing growing inside him.
“I know, I can’t quite believe it,” Astarion answered.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
It must have been magic or enthrallment, Astarion presumes, as the screaming infant’s cries reached his ears. Tears wet his cheeks as the baby – a girl – was placed in his arms. She was wrinkly, half elven, and had a dusting of dark hair on her head.
At that moment, his once reluctant heart swelled to accommodate her.
“Oh, you’ve done it my love. You’ve done it. Look at her.” Gale’s eyes were also wet with tears, and he pressed a kiss to Astarion’s knuckles. “You’ve been so brave.”
The whirring and beeps and murmurs of t he hospital were lost as he focused on the being in his arms. Somehow, his focus shifted, and all he cared about was keeping her safe. Like the flip of a switch.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“You need to sleep,” the nurse chastised while she checked Astarion’s vitals.
Astarion had no concern with the nurse or her words, as his eyes had stayed, and continued to stay, on their precious girl for the past two days.
“I mean it,” she pushed as she began to leave the room. “Sleep while the baby sleeps.”
He rolled his eyes at the retreating woman, having heard that expression a million times. But how could he sleep, when anything could happen and rip his precious infant from his arms? No, he wouldn’t allow that to happen.
She was wrapped in white, a pink hat sprouting from the bundle and lips pooched as she snoozed. She was magnificent, and his heart felt near to burst with love for her. It was quite unreal, having worried that he’d not care for the infant to suddenly caring for it more than anything on this earth. Beyond Gale. Beyond himself.
But he was tired, and he couldn’t stay up forever. Sleep would be welcome, so perhaps he should. He rested his head against the pillow, exhaustion still in his bones. It was a tired like he’d never experienced before, settling beyond the aches and pains and somewhere deeper. His eyelids fluttered shut.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“ASTARION! Oh Gods...” Astarion rushed into the room, watching as Gale cradled their infant in his arms. He looked distraught, cheeks reddened, eyes wide with panic. “This is your fault. You let her die! You selfish bastard!”
“What?” Astarion backed up a few paces, terror wracking his chest. “I didn’t, I swear! I don’t know what happened!”
“You never wanted her, did you?”
“I- That’s not true! Godsdamnit, let me see her!”
“Bastard,” Gale spat, holding the bundle away from him. “You’re an awful father.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The hospital room rematerialized, Astarion’s eyes opening fully again. Their little girl slept peacefully in her swaddle, and Gale was sprawled across the couch just beside them in his own exhausted slumber. Just a dream. Nightmare.
Maybe it would be easier just to stay awake and watch them, just in case.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“I promise you, nothing is wrong. She’s perfectly healthy.”
Relief flooded through Astarion’s chest as he cradled his baby, brushing at a suspicious looking bruise that had formed on her. He’d been up researching all night, and discovered it could be a symptom of something serious. He knew it was a leap, but he couldn’t help but be sure. But what if the doctor was just blowing him off? Things had happened like that before, he’d read about it in a parenting blog.
“Can’t you do a blood test or something just to be sure?”
“No, it’s not necessary. Your baby is fine, it’s just a bruise. This is your fifth visit this month outside of regular appointments.”
“But you didn’t even check for anything!” Astarion was getting agitated, and the baby squirmed in response.
“There’s nothing to check for. If you notice anymore concerning symptoms you can bring her back, but this,” she gestured to where the baby had settled, suckling her thumb, “this is a healthy baby. You have nothing to worry about.”
But worry was all Astarion did. And so he was back home, watching her sleep in a bassinet, oblivious to the plagues and dangers of the world. A bliss Astarion wasn’t afforded. He picked up his phone and scrolled more blogs about afflictions and babies, searching her sleeping form as he compared images and symptoms. As hours had passed, he felt the effects of his lack of sleep beginning to seep in.
Sleep while she sleeps, the nurse’s reminder played in his head.
Right, maybe he should.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“Astarion, where is she?”
Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, finding Gale standing in front of him.
“What?”
“She’s gone!” Then he was padding around frantically, tearing blankets off furniture, books off shelves, and overturning rugs. “Where is she Astarion!?”
The bassinet was empty. Astarion came to his feet in a drowsy stupor, and began looking frantically himself.
“Where is our baby, Astarion?!”
“I don’t know!”
“How could you lose our baby?!”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The buzzing of Astarion’s phone pulled him from yet another nightmare, the panic still coursing through him as he lunged toward the bassinet, the baby’s eyes darting around curiously before scrunching shut in a cry that meant she was probably hungry.
Gale was busy at work, so Astarion pushed himself to his feet and shuffled to the kitchen to prepare a bottle. She suckled, and Astarion patted her back until the air released. All motions at this point, autopilot as his mind was occupied with a number of other concerns.
Everything that could possibly go wrong played on repeat in his mind and followed him into his dreams. Everything he ate made him feel sick.
So he didn’t eat, and he didn’t sleep.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“We need to do something, Astarion. You haven’t left the house in three months except for appointments. How much weight have you lost?”
Gale’s voice might as well had been miles away, as distant as he felt from the situation. Then Gale reached for him, and he flinched away. He tried not to notice the hurt on Gale’s face.
“You can’t live like this.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“What would you know, Gale?” Astarion turned to face him now. “You’re never fucking here! You stay at work, avoiding me.”
“That’s not true. I get home as quick as I can. But gods Astarion, you won’t let me help. It’s okay to let me help, we are a team.”
“You never wanted to fucking help me, Gale,” Astarion spat back. It was untrue, but he couldn’t help as the vitriol continued to spill out of him. “You wanted this so godsdamned bad, and I gave it to you, and you just abandon me completely!”
Gale froze, looking more than a little hurt.
“I didn’t mean to, I mean I though we both-“
“There’s no we. I never wanted this.”
“Gods, Astarion why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I can’t stand that stupid kicked puppy look you have. It makes me feel like shit.” Astarion gestured, as if to prove his point. “That. That look right there. You’re guilt tripping me.”
“I’m not guilt tripping you! Where is this coming from?”
“You are! Stop looking so fucking pitiful!”
“I can’t help my expression when my husband just dropped the bomb that he never wanted any of this! I knew you were struggling, but you never talk to me, how could I possibly know?”
“I don’t know, you could have asked instead of obsessing over this pregnancy. I feel you don’t even see me since this has all happened! Corellon might as well had made me invisible.”
“Do you regret her?”
Astarion looked to their daughter and back to Gale.
“No.”
He meant it. Despite not wanting it, he didn’t. He loved her. He didn’t quite understand it himself.
“Then… Why-“
The baby’s disturbed wails from the bassinett pulled them both from their argument. They dispersed, back into routine.
Nothing else was said of the matter.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
After a few years, Corellon’s blessing had worn off and Astarion found himself back in his original body, but it changed nearly nothing. Their toddler still recognized him, crawling up into his lap and hugging his neck. He loved the little girl, more than life itself, but the tiny fingers constantly touching him filled him with dread. But what was he to do? Push the child off of him? He didn’t need to be branded a terrible father alongside everything else.
So he pushed that to the back of his mind, and squeezed her back, adjusting her on his lap so he could comb the long soft brown locks. Unmistakably Gale’s. She was a carbon copy of him, down to the big brown eyes as they tilted up from under eyelashes.
“Are you sad?” The little girl tilted her head just so, innocent curiosity.
Astarion paused, not expecting the astute observation. He hadn’t spent enough time around kids to be prepared for how intuitive they were. It wasn’t the first time she caught him off guard.
“Perhaps just feeling tired,” he lied.
“Oh. Do you need to take a nap?”
“No, my sweetling,” he tapped her nose, “we’ve got to build Miss Ilyria’s dollhouse don’t we?”
And those concerned brown eyes shifted into elation, distracted for now.
If only they worked on the identical pair of eyes he’d been avoiding.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The bathroom light spilled into the room, and Astarion laid facing it, the man on the other side of him shifting. A hand slid up his side, and he stilled himself from the immediate desire to recoil. It had been months since they’d been intimate, and even those times were forced. Despite his best efforts, Gale could always tell.
Then lips pressed against the back of his neck, and Astarion felt physically ill. They’d been through this before, and if Astarion rejected, he’d be faced with Gale’s moping for days, those defeated eyes turning away from him and solidifying the ball of anxiety that found permanent residence in his gut.
It was better just to get it over with.
He rolled over, pressing kisses back to Gale, who hummed in satisfaction. He ignored the disgust, trying to imagine himself anywhere else, and let his hand dip beneath Gale’s pajama pants. He wrapped his hand around Gale, who laid back against the pillow, mouth agape. A momentary reprieve from the kissing, giving his frayed nerves a break.
At one point in their relationship, he enjoyed this time with Gale. Very much so, rolling around and laughing, pleasuring one another. It all felt like a distant memory now.
Then he faced away, and let Gale take him from behind. It was easier this way, less kissing, less pretending and schooling his face into pretending. He’d make noises, and wait for it to be done.
And when it was done, he’d wait for Gale to go to sleep, then he’d cry. But at least he’d avoid Gale’s downtrodden look, the pained expression of rejection for the following days.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The huffs of pleasure rang in Astarion’s ear, and he scrunched his eyes shut, feeling the building pressure of anxiety in his chest. Gale was oblivious, touching and kissing him, and he gripped the sheets, trying to force down the mounting stress.
And then he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Get off me!”
Astarion shoved Gale from their shared bed, the man backing off with an expression that Astarion couldn’t bare to look at.
“I’m sorry Astarion, did I hurt you?”
“No, just. Just get away from me.”
“Please, tell me what I did wrong, Astarion.”
Astarion threw a pillow in his direction, pointing to the door.
“I said get away from me!”
Gale disappeared out of the bedroom, downstairs. It hurt in the worst way, and the argument continued to play on repeat in his mind.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The morning light poured into the windows and Astarion felt his legs wobble as he made his way downstairs to confront Gale. He’d rather hide from the whole thing, unable to bear the pain and hurt he’d caused. But he had to do something.
He found Gale curled up on the couch, twisted in a blanket. He looked peaceful like this, unmarred by the years of struggle they’d been enduring. He sat, brushing the hair from his face.
“Gale?”
The man turned over, looking at Astarion expectantly. He said the only thing he could think of.
“I love you.”
As the words left Astarion’s mouth, Gale froze, looking suspicious. Brown eyes searched his, before he pushed himself into a seated position.
“And I love you.”
“Gale, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been terrible and yet you stick around, I’m trying to be better, but I have so much… I don’t know why you haven’t just left me yet-“
Limbs tensed as Gale wrapped his arms around him, and he slowly hugged Gale back.
“We will figure it out, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I never anticipated for any of this to be easy, but walking out was never an option that crossed my mind.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Hey. I won’t lie and say this has been easy for me. But I love you,” Gale pulled back, gesturing to their daughter’s room up the stairs, “we both do. And I don’t know how to fix this… but I want to, if you do.”
“I do,” Astarion responded immediately. “It’s just the touching, the touching is hard.”
“I need you to tell me these things,” Gale said quietly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I just don’t want to disappoint you. I just wish we could go back to the way things were.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Or we could just start over, from the beginning,” Gale offered.
“Start over?”
“Start over,” he confirmed. “Like dates, reading books, sneaking around behind the university.”
Astarion snorted.
“I’m serious. I’ll do anything.” He squeezed the hands between them. “If you’ll have me.”
For the first time in a very long time, Astarion saw Gale, the man who sent him corny pickup lines in the mornings. The man who sat with him and roasted horribly written literature. The man he made out with behind buildings housing university staff and students despite his protests that it was inappropriate. It brought a smile to his lips.
“I’ve really been a poor influence on you, haven’t I?”
And Gale laughed too, eyes crinkled with an expression that made Astarion’s heart ache.
He’d missed it.