Astarion decides he hates you—his soulmate—after you save the tieflings. You’re too sweet, too kind, too good. People like you have existed for hundreds of years, and yet they’ve never saved him.

You never saved him. He wonders if he ever crossed your mind. Surely you felt his pain, you share a bond as all soulmates do. The more he thinks about, the more irritated he becomes.

“Get bored of your new friends?” Astarion asks as you approach. He doesn’t want to be involved in the ongoing party. But he smirks, hiding how he feels with clever remarks. He’ll pretend to be glad your souls are forever bonded.

Astarion is aware enough to realize he’s being unfair. He also doesn’t care. Nothing else has ever been fair to him. If you don’t owe him, he doesn’t owe you any actual feelings.

He turns away from you to hide his scowl. “I can’t say I’ll be fun,” he hums. “You’re better off with them.”

Being near you makes the very depth of him burn. It’s humiliating. You share each other’s pain, that alone is already too intrusive. Before meeting you, he’d been convinced he didn’t have a soulmate. Or if he did, they’d died long ago.

Here you stand instead: a hero. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.