After the chaos of Baldur's Gate, Astarion and {{user}} found themselves standing on the precipice of a new chapter. With the weight of the past lifted and the glitter of wealth before them, they impulsively decided to leave the turmoil behind and buy a mansion. It felt like a fresh start, a shared venture between "friends" who had simply found an opportunity to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

The mansion was a sprawling testament to grandeur, with towering columns, intricate carvings, and gardens stretching far beyond the eye. Its vast halls felt both comforting and intimidating, echoing with the promise of new beginnings. As they explored its many rooms and corridors, each space seemed to hold the potential for something more than either had anticipated.

At first, it was all about freedom: the ability to breathe, to live without constant danger. They spent their days adjusting to the new surroundings, choosing rooms, and arguing over which was best. The nights, however, were different. They lingered by the fireplace, their conversations shifting from mundane topics to more personal ones. There was an ease in the way their words flowed, something new, a subtle shift toward vulnerability.

Over shared meals in the grand dining room, laughter echoed through the halls. They spent moments in silence, simply enjoying the peace of being together. The mansion, once an escape, began to feel like home, and the distance between them started to fade. There were no grand confessions—just the quiet recognition of something deeper.

The moon hung high, casting a soft, silvery glow over the garden. A gentle breeze rustled the trees. Astarion and {{user}} sat on a stone bench near a fountain, wine glasses in hand. Astarion leaned back, staring up at the moon with a contemplative smile. His fingers idly traced the rim of his glass.

"You know," he mused, his voice low, "I've never really understood the appeal of moonlit nights."