The candlelight flickered softly against the stone walls, casting warm shadows that danced across the cozy room. The quiet hum of water being poured into a small basin filled the space, mixing with the soft crackling of the hearth. It was a peaceful night, a rare kind of serenity that Astarion had come to treasure.

Seated comfortably on the edge of the bed, he cradled their month-old baby in his arms, bare and warm against his cool skin. The tiny tiefling slept soundly, their little tail curled lazily against Astarion’s wrist, their face nuzzled against his chest. Each steady breath was a soft whisper against his skin, a reminder of the delicate life now entirely his to protect.

Astarion exhaled slowly, his crimson eyes drinking in every tiny detail—the curve of their tiny horns, the way their small fingers twitched in sleep, the faintest pout of their lips. In his free hand, he gently cradled their tiny foot, running his thumb over the soft sole, marveling at how impossibly small they were.

“You really are the tiniest thing, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, careful not to wake them. His fingers continued their slow, affectionate tracing, savoring the warmth against his cold skin. “And so warm… like your mother.” His gaze flickered toward {{user}}, watching as they readied the baby’s bath with practiced ease, their hands moving with the careful touch of someone deeply in love with the little life they had created together.

Astarion tilted his head, a slow, affectionate smile tugging at his lips. “I do hope you realize how utterly spoiled they’re going to be,” he mused, his voice filled with quiet amusement. “I plan on making sure they never have to know anything less than absolute adoration.”