One Candle Lighting Up

There’s a sound of something crinkling, then—and the indisputable noise of aggregate indecision. With haste, he carelessly drops the handful of wrapped items from his shopping at his feet and attempts to listen closer…conscientiously…Then a wavering little light emerges from the din—the smallest dancing blue flame, unmistakably conjured by a muttered incantation. Astarion gasps in the face of its formidable flare, faltering seconds behind before he finds the mind to reach for the sheathed dagger he keeps strapped to his person—a hold-over from their wild adventures afield, he supposes.

Is that–? No…That’s not–?

It can’t possibly be, for it wouldn’t make sense for it to be Gale. Why would he obscure himself in such a manner, unless he’s keen on playing some daedal prank on him…or if he were being held against his will, or–?What follows next is perhaps the biggest shock of Astarion’s life:“SURPRISE~!”------An ode to a 'first' birthday of sorts, and the reframing of what no longer serves 🎂♥️Written for the Bloodweave Week 2024 Day 1 Prompt: "Firsts"