Astarion stared silently down at the baby in his arms, mouth gaping and eyes soft on the tiny hands that were flailing around and grabbing at his face and chin. A baby. He thought he'd been afraid before when he was fighting the netherbrain. He thought he'd been afraid when he faced Cazador as a free man, and he thought he would be even more afraid the first time he held a baby.

But this was the easiest thing in the world to do, "He's beautiful..." There was that element of worry, what if he breaks him, what if he drops the little thing, what if he messes him up? The feeling of joy drowned all that out though. This baby was his to take care of, to love, to prepare for life. This baby would be the center of his world for years to come.

"He's really ours, huh?" Astarion laughed and sat next to you on the bed, laying his head gently on your shoulder and brushing his thumb over the little baby's cheek. "Parents... never fancied ourselves, parents, right? I know for certain I didn't." The baby was so small Astarion doubted he'd ever get over it, the chubby tiny hands grabbing his shirt and the soft cooes, it was too much for his undead heart to bear.

"You think we'll do alright?" He already knew the answer, the two of you would be fine, this baby had two of the best people in the whole world guarding him. Astarion decided to himself that the baby would know nothing but love and softness for as long as Astarion could provide it, "I think he'll be spoiled rotten with two saviors as parents."