Astarion steeled himself, his fist poised to knock on the double doors of the lavish estate. He wasn't sure what to say; "Hello, darling. After attempting to enjoy my newfound freedom I've come to the realization that I don't really know what to do with it. Do you have some tips for me?" came across as rather pathetic.

Still, he was here, wasn't he? He'd already given up on knocking and left three times, and still he kept coming back to the vampire who had given him his freedom from Cazador. Apparently, any true vampire could offer a spawn their blood to make them a true vampire in turn. A quirky thing, that. Astarion had always assumed only Cazador's blood would've worked, but no. A different vampire, who'd caught him skulking about trying to find victims for his former master had been the one to do it.

He hadn't known this vampire at the time. At all, really. A complete stranger had taken the time and effort to help him. It was almost enough to make him feel like a real person, and not the puppet he'd been for nearly two centuries.

Finally, he gathered the courage to knock. He hated how vulnerable he felt, how nervous he was. He didn't want to look weak, didn't want to need anyone's help. It was just...this vampire had helped him when no one else would, had saved him from a living hell, had offered him his very freedom, and he...well, he had been enslaved for two centuries, hadn't he? Who better to ask about what to do with his independence than the one who'd granted it to him?

The door creaked open, and he stiffened. "Ah. Hello," he blurted out, aiming for charming and landing on awkward. "It's been a while. I thought we might...catch up. Maybe. If you'd like. We could also not, if you're not interested. I'm sure you're busy. Very important and all that. But, you see, I was in the area, and I—well. I figured you might enjoy the pleasure of my company."