Astarion Baldurs Gate 3 - Tumblr Posts

Doux

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion/fem!Tav Rating: explicit (18+)  Tags: oral sex (involving period blood), piv sex, blood drinking, mutual pining, slow burn, orgasm denial, mentions of Astarion's trauma (but not graphic), there's also like the TINIEST mention of rimming & breathplay but i promise it's so mild, oneshot Summary: Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. Read on AO3 if you prefer

Tav couldn't help but celebrate. 

The last couple of days had been grueling. Gods, it had felt so good to finally get back to camp. A dip in the cool river, followed by a change into the lovely dress Alfira had gifted her, had Tav feeling like a brand new person for the night. She had stuffed herself so full on a feast of cheese pies and grilled pork belly that she nearly threw up, and then after, she dramatically retold the story of the goblin slaying to the group of wide-eyed children. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off her shoulders – she and her companions had been awarded a win, one they really needed.

Grateful tieflings swarmed Tav the entire night, showering her with wine-fueled hugs of gratitude. She waved off their praises, insisting that it had been a team effort and encouraged the others to accept their share of recognition as well, because there was no way she could’ve done it all by herself. Eventually, Tav found herself sandwiched between Shadowheart and Karlach on a log. The two women were drunk and engaged in unabashed flirtatious banter with each other. Tav, however, kept her wits about her. She took a swig from a tepid mug of ale, her eyes locked onto Astarion across the camp. He was visibly annoyed by the children surrounding him, all clamoring to catch a glimpse of the bow he used to slay goblins.

In the midst of all the chaos, he caught her staring at him through the dancing tieflings. Astarion tipped his head sideways, as if asking a question. Startled, she choked on her drink, inadvertently spilling some on Karlach. 

“Oops,” Tav said, as Shadowheart leaned over her lap to wipe off the ale from Karlach’s pants before the sizzle of the burning liquid caused her to yelp and quickly withdraw her hand.

“We really need to fix that, don’t we?” Shadowheart muttered sarcastically, fanning her injured hand, attempting to cool it down.

“Maybe lay off the wine,” Tav suggested sarcastically. “I’m going to go make my rounds. The people need their gracious host.”

She set off to mingle with the others, and felt the stare radiating through her as she joined the nearby chatter. Lia and Cal, to be exact, were begging for Rolan to present some fireworks. Rolan conjured a rather underwhelming prestidigitation spell, prompting Tav to tuck her mug under her armpit and offer a polite clap after an awkward pause. Round and round, Tav meandered through the camp as she talked to everyone, hells, even Withers, avoiding Astarion as if her life depended on it. With each new person, they topped her mug off with fresh ale. 

As the night wore on and the ale warmed her cheeks, Tav found herself growing increasingly uninhibited. By the time she reached Halsin, she couldn’t resist flirting with him. Who could blame her? Halsin’s gigantic muscles had called out to her, and he was nothing if not good natured. The mountain of an elf laughed off her inebriated advances gently – his head was elsewhere, not that she blamed him. 

“There are many grateful people here who would want to spend time with you,” Halsin said, a glint in his eye. Tav wanted to follow the look, but chose not to, knowing where it trailed behind her. “I must not keep you all to myself. As enjoyable as that may be.” 

She offered something of an agreement before she wandered off to the nearby river, seeking solace and a moment to contemplate on her thoughts, away from the songs and dancing. 

**

The first time Astarion fed on her, Tav had accidentally fallen into a trance one night outside her tent. She had insisted the rest of her companions get some sleep while she cleaned up from the mess they made at supper. After washing the cauldron out in the river, she lugged it back to the fire and had meant to sit down for just a second of rest. Before she knew it, she had drifted off, only to awaken with Astarion hovering over her, teeth bared, wearing an expression she had never seen before. With a dagger pressed to his chest, the look was gone, replaced by a frantic attempt to explain why he had loomed over her so ominously. She couldn't fathom why he was scared; he knew her knife skills were almost as poor as Gale's.

When he confessed the truth, Tav's heart grew heavy – heavy for the way he asked for her trust, no, insisted that she could trust him. Every instinct in her screamed she would be foolish to, but she did.

But she was firm; he could feed on her this one time. After that, it was enemies only, or else. Companions weren’t food, they needed their strength just as he did, and he would not become accustomed to using her – or any of them, for that matter – to satisfy his needs.

Not that any of the others lined up to be his bloodwell... though the group tolerated Astarion, there’d been a sense of uneasiness among the others about the truth. 

Tav braced herself for discomfort at best (and suffering, at worst), but she was completely thrown when all she felt was desire. The unexpected pleasure took her by surprise, though it made sense in hindsight. If it were nothing but pain, vampires wouldn't have gained their notorious reputation for seduction. It felt as though Astarion had plunged his fingers into the depths of her chest and held her heart in a vice-like grip. The more blood he drew from her, the more she wanted for Astarion to take everything he needed, even at the cost of her own life. In the briefest second, Tav felt herself fading away to the gentle chill of her lifesource dwindling, her neck so numb she couldn’t parse out where his fangs were.  In the end, she barely pushed him off her, doubting his self control. Tav noticed the change in Astarion immediately – his face looked brighter, his eyes less dull. Before he left, he promised he wouldn’t forget the gift that she had given him. 

Two weeks later, Tav surprised herself by offering her blood to him a second time.

The camp was quieter than usual. It had been a long day and it had taken its toll on them all. Auntie Ethel turned out to be much more than they had anticipated – offering no cure, only trouble. Shadowheart had gone to her tent for her evening prayers. Gale blew his candles out early, claiming eight hours of sleep was necessary for his mind, body, and complexion. The rest sat by the fire, settling for a bit of relaxation before they retired for the night. Lae’zel, Wyll and Karlach were engaged in a very competitive game of cards while Astarion lounged nearby, engrossed in a book he had stolen from the hag’s teahouse.

Tav had been writing furiously in her journal next to him, when she reached down to her satchel, rummaging through to find an apple for dessert. She couldn’t help but peek at him through the corner of her eye. Astarion had been unusually silent since their return to camp. She had a feeling he was tense from their run in with the monster hunter earlier that day. During the exchange, she noticed a second of panic run across his face as Gandrel revealed who he was searching to capture. The monster hunter never did end up accomplishing his job – courtesy of Astarion and his dagger. 

“If you have something to say, Tav, darling,” he said, his eyes fixed on his book. “You should just say it. It’s ill-mannered to stare.” 

Tav turned the apple over in her lap, contemplating if it was smart to broach the subject, then began nonchalantly, “I don’t suppose you want to address what happened earlier.”

“You want to hear about Cazador,” Astarion said with a tired disdain. “My old master. Before the mind flayers took me from him. Before this strange, twisted freedom.” He slammed the book shut with one hand, and Tav listened intently as he painted a picture of Cazador. A cruel, paranoid master who tortured Astarion for two centuries. A monster obsessed with power, a monster of which it was very clear that Astarion would go to great lengths to never return to.

It was so much worse than Astarion had let on. 

“Why do you think he wants you alive?” she asked.

Astarion pursed his lips. “Maybe he wants to make an example of me. To show what happens to runaways.” He cast his eyes aside before giving her a solemn look. “Or, maybe, he thinks death is too good for me.” 

Tav had always known that Astarion wore a mask, but she had never realized just how often it was in place. It was a remarkably well crafted one, but every mask was bound to slip off at some point. From the very first day they crossed paths, she had found something about him to be perplexing, though she couldn't put her finger on it.  She had thought of him as arrogant, a little malicious, and selfish. Yet, in that moment, as his gaze drifted far away into the embers of the fire, she saw something else—a hint of fear.

“I’m sorry, Astarion,” she said with sincerity. There wasn’t much else for her to say, and she doubted he wanted empty platitudes. 

Astarion nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, but – this isn’t about sympathy. It’s about knowing what we might be up against. The mind flayers aren’t the only monsters out there, hunting us. All I’m asking is that you keep your eyes open, and watch out for anything lurking in the shadows.” 

Her hand inched closer to his fingers, an inhumane chill radiating from them. Tav thought about putting her hand over his in comfort, but thought it too intimate of a gesture for them. “As long as I’m around, I’ll watch your back,” she promised. “You will never go back to him. I won’t let it happen.” 

Astarion’s posture relaxed as he pulled his hand away from the warmth of hers, and gave her a smile – the one that never reached his eyes.  “What more could I ask for? Now, is that all?” 

His fingers tapped a restless beat on his book, as though they might start flipping the pages on their own. Tav studied his face. He had deep mauve bags under his eyes, and his gaze had darkened to the color of oxblood. She wondered how many animals he must have voraciously consumed to still remain so far from the vibrant state he had been in after she had shared her blood with him. Tav weighed the decision to offer him her blood again. She pictured Astarion feeding on rats as if daintily sipping tea from a tiny cup and it was somewhat amusing, but mostly it just made her pity him.

“I was thinking…” she paused, looking down to the apple in her lap. She brought it up to her face and peered at it, checking it for worms. 

“Oh no. That’s never a good sign.” 

Rolling her eyes, she continued, "...that you looked more weary than usual. Perhaps you might fancy a bite?" His fingers slowed their tapping as his eyes fixated on her mouth. Tav crunched into the apple and cocked her head at him.

"Well," Astarion replied, a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone. "I suppose if you're offering a treat, then who am I to turn you down?"

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Tav said, expression stern as she emphasized her words. “We won’t make a habit of this. But… we do need you strong for when we reach the goblin camp.” 

Astarion’s smile changed into the nefarious smirk that she was familiar with. “If you say so,” he purred, leaning closer to whisper in her ear.  “Come to my tent after the others have fallen asleep.” 

Two hours later, she cursed herself for picking the furthest possible area from him to lay down her tent.  Tav quietly crept across the camp to Astarion, pausing every couple of steps just to listen for snores. She just didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea; as the unofficial leader of the group, feeding Astarion was a purely strategic move.

Sneaking past Karlach was nerve-wracking – she had an open tent, explaining that she ran too hot in an enclosed space. Luckily, the barbarian slept still like a boulder. It was Scratch, who dozed at her feet, that made Tav pause. She brought her finger to her lips and gestured for the dog to stay quiet, his sleepy eyes following her until she reached Astarion's tent. She crouched and leaned against the closed fabric. 

Not knowing what to say, Tav whispered, “Dinner’s here.”

“Cute. Come in, darling.” 

Tav poked into the tent and found him reclining on his bedroll, propped up by an excessive number of pillows, more than anyone else had. He had stolen them in Waukeen’s Rest, grumbling about missing the comfort of a proper bed like a civilized person. It was her first time seeing the inside of his tent, and she couldn't resist taking it all in. The inside was dimly lit by a single candle atop a stack of looted books, and next to him was a tray hosting an array of colorful rings and necklaces he collected from both unsuspecting innocents and dead bodies. Even out in the wilderness, Astarion was opulent. He had changed into his fine nightclothes and looked at her with a raised eyebrow – she was still wearing her muddy, fight-stained cloak.  

“Ah, right.” She looked down at herself. “I washed up, promise. Just didn’t want to traipse around at this hour in my nightshirt.” She shrugged the coat off onto the ground, revealing a plain night outfit. “I don’t plan on being in here long.” 

"Well, make yourself comfortable nonetheless," Astarion beckoned, sitting up and gesturing towards the snug space they now shared. “Just be very quiet and our little midnight rendezvous will stay a secret.” He shuffled on his pillows, inviting her closer.

“I should’ve hoarded some pillows like you,” Tav remarked. “You’re resting like a little princess.” 

Astarion chuckled. "Oh, my dear, you'll be sleeping quite soundly after I'm finished here. Come, sit on my lap." She hesitated, making a reluctant face. 

"Now, don't be difficult," he continued with a playful grin. "It'll be far more comfortable for you this way. I wouldn't want to accidentally suffocate you again, as I nearly did last time." Tav inched towards him, careful to not touch anywhere but the bedroll. She knelt down and followed his request, straddling him while placing a hand on his shoulder for support. A sudden shiver ran down her spine as she felt just how icy he was, catching her off guard.

"Sorry," Tav broke the silence, "You’re so cold. I grew up with the chill, but you’re different."

“I have bad circulation,” Astarion replied dryly.

Tav shifted her body on him, hoping he didn’t realize how mortified she was. "Are you comfortable?" 

He responded with an earnest chuckle and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. "You're rather adorable, aren't you?" He gently pushed her face to the side, positioning her neck at the perfect angle for him. "I knew you liked this more than you let on."

“Don’t speak nonsense,” she spluttered, her head snapping back to look at him. “I am doing you a favor.” 

Astarion adjusted her face to the side again, his hand now more firmly gripping her chin. “Don’t be coy,” he murmured, low and seductive. “Your body has already given you away.” 

He leaned into her neck, taking in her smell, lips hovering over her bare skin. “I could feel it, you know, as I was getting lost in your neck. Your little shakes of excitement.” Tav’s back stiffened and she felt the urge to leap and run out the tent, but his other arm tightened its grasp around her hip. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

Her body betrayed her when she gasped as his mouth pressed against her skin, goosebumps prickling her arms and the back of her neck.

“You don’t have to say a thing. I already know how you feel. I feel it too.” 

And then he sunk his fangs into the pulse of Tav’s neck, her fingers digging into his arm. Her stinging skin parted under his sharp teeth with frightening ease. Tav never thought of herself as delicate, but she felt as vulnerable as a little rabbit torn apart by a hound.

She jerked suddenly when Astarion bit down harder, willing her frantically beating heart to pump more blood faster into his mouth. He made a small noise, something resembling relief, as each droplet surged past his lips. Sucking away and lapping at the wound at the base of her neck, as if he were merely cleaning up a small mess he made, caused an electric sensation to shoot through her spine and then down to her groin. His hands dug a tighter grip into the sides of her body as he sucked and sucked and sucked. Black dots slowly speckled her vision as if distant stars were blinking into existence. She let out a choked whimper, her body quivering beyond her control.  Blissed out crimson eyes met hers as he pulled away briefly, his lips glistening with her life's essence. His gaze burned into her, the hunger swirling in his eyes.

“That’s a strange definition of quiet.” 

Before she could reply, Astarion placed a firm palm over her mouth. With his lips away from her neck, she felt her blood flow down her collarbones, dripping into the hollow of her chest. He tongued at the trail at the top of her shoulders, lapping up the burgundy rivulets. She shuddered as he went lower to her ruffled nightshirt, and he gently pulled down at it just enough to lazily clean up the remaining droplets at the top of her breasts. 

Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to control her breathing, and that was when Tav noticed the hardness pressed underneath her. “Just a little more, darling,” Astarion panted.

His tongue scorched on her skin as he licked up the trail, fangs grazing her skin on his way back to the puncture marks. His hand fell from Tav’s mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as another gush of warm blood hit his tongue, coating every crevice of his mouth.

“Astarion.”

His name tumbled out from her in a moan, as she was painfully aware in equal parts both of the erection against her and the wetness soaking through her undergarment. He didn’t respond, but he did stop suckling at her neck. “You can stop now.” 

Then with a degree of reluctance, he removed his lips from her, mouth and chin so completely covered in her blood that it looked morbidly lewd. Tav looked up at him with wide eyes, heart pounding. 

“We could get some privacy,” Astarion murmured after a few seconds passed. His fingers traced down her back, sending a tickle through her backbone. She stiffened, keeping her eyes fixed on his, a reply trapped in her throat.  “To enjoy ourselves more. I know somewhere quiet, not far from here.” He shifted his lap and pressed himself against her, to show her what he meant, if he wasn’t clear enough. 

Tav’s resolve wavered for a moment, but she quickly composed herself and moved to push herself off him, though his arms behind her back kept her in place. “That– that's enough, actually,” she responded, her ragged breath catching up to an even pace. She wasn’t going to respond to his suggestion. Tav knew he was toying with her, that he thought her naive.

“You’re looking better already, for a dead man,” Tav said coolly. He huffed in annoyance and leaned back, granting her space to stand up from his lap. “Your eyes,” she observed. “They glow when you feed on me. A person’s blood does wonders for you."

Astarion lifted his hand up to his mouth, swiping off the wet, shining blood. He coated his fingers with what remained and languidly sucked, keeping a fixed gaze on her that made her want to run for the hills. 

“That is the understatement of the century, my dear.” 

Tav tried to hide the way her fingers trembled as she attempted to button up her cloak, haphazardly connecting the wrong ones. He watched her intently as she covered up his bite with the garment.  She opened the flap halfway and, before she left, turned to face Astarion, her voice firm. “Don’t expect this again.”

Astarion offered a wry smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**

Astarion didn't fancy himself a connoisseur of puzzles and riddles. He loathed prolonged attempts at figuring things out. Patience was a virtue he seldom possessed, especially if figuring out something – or someone – took too long. He supposed he'd grown accustomed to resolving things rather quickly, a skill honed during centuries of servitude to his demanding master, Cazador.

Well… former master. But Astarion didn't want to regard Cazador in past terms, not just yet. He didn’t feel he had the luxury. Not while the wicked vampire lord was actively searching for him. Astarion was skilled at deception, but he refused to lie to himself; fear gnawed at him relentlessly and he found himself barely able to meditate in peace most of the time. He was plagued by nightmares of Cazador finding him and dragging him back into his clutches. So, he conceived of backup plan upon backup plan. He didn’t entirely rule out Raphael – the devil potentially had the power to free him from Cazador, but it would undoubtedly come with strings attached. Would the worm wriggling behind his eye be key to his freedom? Perhaps, if he didn’t turn into a mindflayer first. 

Ironically, all of those possibilities just meant merely shifting him from one master’s control to another.

Astarion sighed, keeping a watchful eye on Mol. She thought she was being quite sneaky, attempting to pickpocket him. He flicked the child in the forehead as punishment, and sent her scampering away with a handful of rings he had deliberately allowed her to take.

Why had he been granted a second, well, technically third chance at life, only to be confronted with one grim option after another? What had he done in his previous life to deserve this? He had been so young when he turned, Astarion couldn't quite recall the details anymore. He remembered working for the government—and probably was not the most benevolent magistrate back then—but surely, he couldn't have been any worse than any other charlatan. It’s not like he kicked children or orchestrated an illicit gnome trafficking ring, right?

His chain of thoughts broke at the sight of Tav’s bright eyes locked on him from across the camp. She averted her gaze when he returned the look. After that, all he could see was the curtain of her hair veiling her face as she maneuvered around the camp, chatting with everybody else.

Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. And she was right to avoid him; it was a foolish thing she had done, trusting Astarion like that. She just couldn’t help herself, could she? Anyone who batted an eyelash at her and cried a sob story got a helping hand from her, it didn’t matter who. She didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t how the world worked – some people weren’t destined to be helped, no matter how often they prayed to the gods.

Tav was good and it sickened him. 

Without her, Astarion thought, he would’ve been content to let the tieflings meet their fate, either slaughtered on the road or at the hands of the druids – it didn’t make a difference to him. In fact, he doubted the others really cared to resolve the whole Druids vs Tieflings dispute in the midst of their tadpole predicament. But Tav rallied them just the right amount that none of them could ever say no to her.

The others genuinely valued her opinion, and often looked to her for guidance, whether they realized it or not. Being on Tav’s good side was the intelligent thing to do, Astarion had quickly gathered. She had vouched for him when the others recoiled at his true nature – most would have stabbed a stake through his heart for what he stupidly attempted to do that night. He needed her on his side. Astarion wasn’t sure what would end up happening after reaching Moonrise Towers, and he was ashamed to admit he didn’t want to go at it alone. He didn’t know how to be alone. The entire concept of solitude unsettled him.

The men and women he was accustomed to manipulating for Cazador crumbled before him with little effort. Seduction had been his modus operandi for over two centuries. Honeyed words and enticing caresses were second nature to Astarion, always serving as a sinister means to a grim end – delivering innocent victims into the clutches of Cazador for torture, death, or worse.

This was precisely what made Tav simultaneously so magnetic and so frustrating. She hadn't succumbed to his charms as expected. Astarion had even briefly entertained the possibility that maybe she just wasn’t interested in men, but that idea was dismissed when he overheard a late-night conversation between her and Lae’zel, who had made quite an aggressive advance – one she promptly rebuffed. So, what would it take to make her more receptive to his advances?

“Sulking will ruin your pretty face, Astarion.” Shadowheart’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I thought you, of all people,  would know how to have a little fun tonight.”

He scoffed at her, dramatically eyeing her figure up and down. “If that were possible, then you would be the ugliest one here, my dear.” 

Shadowheart stared at him for a moment and then broke out into an uncharacteristic giggle. “We have a long road ahead – be happy that we are all still in one piece, and celebrate for just one night.  I know I am,” she said, waving a bottle of wine towards him. 

“Is that Marsember Blush?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, recognizing the fine vintage wine. “Where did you unearth that? I know that didn’t come from the tiefling’s sorry supplies.”

“You’re not the only one with sticky fingers,” Shadowheart replied, a sly smile on her lips. “And no, I’m not offering any to you. I already have someone to share it with.” With that, she made her way back to the fire near Karlach, who was engrossed in showing the tiefling children her burning Hellion heart. 

He scanned the area for Tav and he found her staring at Halsin with an adoring look. Astarion couldn’t help but feel envious that he wasn’t the recipient of the smile, so gentle that it betrayed the notorious reputation that followed dark elves. He frowned, thinking of Shadowheart's words – she was right. He would have a little fun tonight, and he would get Tav to adore him so thoroughly that she wouldn't ever entertain the thought of betraying him.

Astarion impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for Tav to approach him, but she continued on, disappearing around a corner and heading toward a waterfall beyond the camp. Deciding to follow, he snagged a bottle of wine from a passed-out bard and made his way to her. Astarion found her sitting against a boulder, her head tilted back as she gazed at the stars above.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Astarion said. “Done basking in the limelight, Tav? Got tired of having high praises sung to you?” 

She fiddled with the collar of the lovely dress that she wore for the occasion. “I needed a moment to myself. I don’t get them often lately.” Tav looked up at him, her slate gray skin glowing in the moonlight. Despite the mismatched eyes (thanks to her trusting Volo a little too much), she was beautiful, he noted, and he did have a fondness for beautiful things. Bedding her wouldn't be torture; it could have been worse. It could have been Gale. The thought made him shudder.

“I’m glad I was able to help them, to show that we’re not all Lolth’s servants. It’s usually a little funny, but sometimes being looked at like a monster is tiring,” Tav confessed.

He blinked, taken aback by Tav’s unexpectedly sincere admission, wondering if he had picked a bad moment to approach her. However, she patted the ground next to her, inviting him to sit, and then she chuckled. "Sorry. Did I ruin the mood?"

Astarion settled down against the rock, bumping his shoulder against hers. Tav watched him intently as he worked on removing the corkscrew from the wine. When he tilted the bottle in her direction as an offer, she declined with a shake of her head, prompting Astarion to take a sip himself. He grimaced from the acrid taste. 

“Well, I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one people would toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” he paused, taking another mouthful.  “I hate it. It’s awful.” 

“It’s not that bad. Think of all the nasty little goblins you got to kill.” 

“True…” Astarion smiled impishly, thinking fondly on the many different ways to murder. Regular arrows dipped in poison or set ablaze with fiery magic, the thrust of a dagger into vulnerable flesh. The memories were invigorating.

“That was fun," he mused. "Still, I would've liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine. All I want is a little excitement tonight, is that so much to ask? The good kind – not the 'we might turn into hideous mind flayers at any moment' excitement." He sighed dramatically and raised the bottle for another sip.

Suddenly, she swiped the bottle from him, and took a long swig. When she lowered the bottle, he watched as her face juggled through a few emotions, ultimately landing on disgust. “See what I mean? Awful.” 

“Absolutely dreadful," she remarked before bursting into laughter.

This close, her scent was intense, sending a thrill through his body. She had a distinct aroma, one that he could uniquely parse out from everyone else’s. Tav smelled of amber and spiced honey and pink pepper, even through the grime and chaos of their adventures.

“Well, you’ve heard the saying? Beggars can’t be choosers,” she slurred slightly, playfully hiding the bottle behind her back.  

“Look at you… my treat with her cheeks all flushed,” he tutted. Astarion peered into her eyes with practiced adoration. “I’m amazed you managed to keep your mind clear enough to fight. I’ve been thinking about our last night together ceaselessly, you know.” 

Astarion wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the last time she visited his tent. 

He recalled vividly how she had melted under his teeth, the way her body went limp like a puppet cut from their strings. He had felt profoundly powerful, and she had tasted exquisite, nothing like the rats he had been forced to sustain himself on for centuries. An excitement he had never felt before coursed through his bones at the first droplet. Astarion told himself afterwards it was only because she was his first. He had hoped to have her then, to get the chase done with, as he could smell her arousal clear as day. She had obviously wanted more. And yet, she ran from him. Playing hard to get, he surmised.

“You could just ask for more blood,” Tav responded bitterly. “I knew the goblins weren’t for your refined palate.” The bottle was pushed back into his lap. “You don’t have to woo me with your—” She made a wild gesture with her hands. “—vampiric charms.”

He had hoped a wine-addled Tav would be easier to seduce. 

“Darling, you wound me.” Astarion put a hand to his heart dramatically.  “I saw you earlier, with Halsin. Well, everybody did. Subtlety is clearly not your forte. The way you looked at him had me positively green with envy. Well, I guess I can’t fault your taste, he is a fine specimen.” 

Tav’s ears flushed with embarrassment and she looked away, fixating intently at the fish nearby. They swam down the stream and it reminded Astarion of her, eager to get away from him. 

“That was nothing. Just laughter between friends,” she downplayed.

“Is it so hard to believe that hearing that brings me relief?” 

Another truth. She would be considerably easier to have if she wasn’t attached to someone else. 

"Is it so hard to believe…" He extended his hand to caress her cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “That I want you? That there’s not a single soul tonight, here or otherwise, who I’d rather be with.” When she met his gaze again, Astarion thought he might have caught his little fish by the hook after all.

“Such bewitching lies,” Tav marveled. “I almost believe them. Oh, you’re good.” 

“You don’t have to believe what I say, darling. You just need to believe how I feel .” 

He inched towards her, allowing the wine bottle to roll away from his lap and into the river. Astarion pressed a feather light kiss to her jaw, then her cheek. His fingers held her chin, guiding her to him. When their lips finally met, a sigh escaped her, and Astarion couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as her mouth willingly parted to welcome him. Despite the foul wine, she tasted sweet. And he found that he didn’t mind it, not at all. 

Tav grew more enthusiastic, deepening the kiss. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue in,  and clamped his teeth onto her bottom lip, drawing the flesh into his mouth. She moaned, muffled against him. He had drawn blood. He broke the kiss to lap the blood from her lips, and he felt his cock twitch. A natural reaction for any vampire, he told himself. Blood was simply too exciting. 

Tav drew away from him, breathless, her lip bruised.  “Are you…hungry, Astarion?” she asked. 

Astarion considered her question. He could tell her yes. He could answer that he was always hungry, that he could drink and drink and there'd still be something missing, gnawing away in his chest. It was an insatiable yearning, an emptiness that no amount of blood would ever fill—a bleak hunger that defined his existence, a constant reminder of the curse that haunted him.

Or he could choose to play pretend instead. That would be easier to swallow.

He put on a mischievous smile. “In what way?” 

"Don’t be cheeky," she said, a blush gracing her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I had a feeling you might be. It’s been some time... and you always seem so much stronger and happier when you've had your fill."

"And your point is?" Astarion asked, though he already had a sense where this was going. He just wanted to hear her say it.

“That I can help you. That you might as well continue to use me.” She winced at her phrasing. “I don’t have to be a vampire to understand that animals aren’t the same. I suppose if we come to an agreement about it, the others will have to mind their business. Just tell me when you need it. That is – if you want to, anyway.” 

His eyes darkened at the proposition. “How delightfully pragmatic of you,” he purred in response. 

Tav had given him a refreshing game of cat and mouse, but she succumbed to his beauty, just like everyone else before her. Astarion wished he could say he was surprised, but it’d be a lie. This was how it always worked. You want something, you need to give something. He would shut his brain off, bed her and give her a night of earth shattering pleasure; in return he was not only basically guaranteed protection from Cazador, but was also given a reliable source of blood. Two birds, one stone.

There was nothing else he needed to hear, so Astarion swiftly pulled her into his lap, a surprised squeak escaping her lips. “Hey–”  

He pressed a finger to her lips and kissed behind her ear, then her neck. Tav let out a sigh of defeat and leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Astarion’s curled fingers traced at the healing puncture marks with admiration, thumbs pressing half-moons into her skin. He dragged the tip of a fang over her skin, slicing a neat line. Small beads of blood began to well up along the thin cut, and he closed his mouth over it and sank in. His third time, and yet it was just as exciting as the first – Astarion was well aware that anyone would be appetizing in contrast to his dismal vegetarian diet, but still wondered if others would be better, compared to her. 

If that was possible. He wasn’t sure at that moment. 

Astarion lost himself in an instant as he buried his senses in her neck, a haze of sensation enveloping him like an intoxicating fog. He had understood then Cazador's obsession—how could one not want to ensnare a person, to chain them in perpetual captivity, to render them an unwilling pet, when they tasted like this?

“Not too much,” Tav breathed heavily, her voice trembling. “I might –” She shuddered against him, and he groaned in response, but his hunger drove him forward. Astarion was starving, didn’t she understand? After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, he deserved something better. He was never going to return to the days of deprivation; he would do anything to ensure that pathetic version of himself was gone for good.

Tav’s fingers grasped around his curls, trying to pull him away from the shadow of her neck, but in her weakened state, it was no use. If anything, it spurred Astarion on. Euphoria clouded his judgement, eyes glazed over with sanguine lust as his fangs disappeared deeper into her tender flesh, blood bursting around him. He tugged at Tav’s hips, pressing her down against him, eliciting a whimper from her. His cock had swelled with arousal and Astarion tried to recall the last time he had gotten so hard of his own volition. He couldn’t.

You are still a slave, an unwelcome voice from the depths of his consciousness sneered. A slave to your innate desire. Why deny your true nature?

It took every ounce of willpower in his body to not drain her completely, to disregard the sinister suggestions. Astarion found the strength to pull away, his nose nuzzling against Tav’s jaw as he regained his composure.

"There's a clearing in the forest," he spoke with a steady voice, his fingers gently stroking her hair as she struggled to catch her breath. “I have been waiting to have you. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.” 

Tav snorted. “I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t you?” He looked at her with steeled eyes, masking the irritation that simmered in him. He kept the thorniness out of his tone. “I think you want to be known. To be tasted.” 

“And what do you want?”

Astarion’s voice hushed in a sensual murmur, the kind he found most weak willed people were prey to. “What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me.” 

“You act like you know everything,” Tav replied, finally looking at him. Her expression was inscrutable, but the smell of desire radiating off her was unmistakable. 

“A pretty man and his prettier words.” She cupped his face, as if she were to lean in and kiss him. But she didn’t. “I’m tired. I hope I was able to help you.” 

Astarion watched dumbfounded as she pushed up from his cradle and his arms fell limp to his side. She rejected him again, he thought incredulously. He didn’t look away until she had turned and disappeared back into camp. Then he wiped the remaining blood off his face with his fingers, fully intending to savor what was left. But then something stole his attention—a motionless fish floating in the stream. Without thinking, he plunged his hands into the water to catch it. Astarion had it for a second, until it wriggled its way out and plopped back into the water, swimming away in a swirl of crimson.

** 

They had been venturing through the labyrinth of the Underdark for countless days. It was a quiet familiarity that Tav was thankful for, despite the fact that she had left for the world above many years ago. After everything that she’d gone through recently, she welcomed something that still made sense to her. She understood it  – tricky paths to avoid, what poisonous plants you shouldn’t go near, the right grounds to make camp on. Due to the nature of the journey she was on with her companions, however, she grew to anticipate unwelcome surprises. 

Still, it hadn’t made it any easier to accept that her cycle had started – Tav had completely forgotten all about amidst the chaos of their tadpole predicament. Drow females only bled every three months and their cycles were extremely heavy and painful. It hit her one day as they were on the trail towards Grymforge, crossing paths with Filro the Forgotten and his hook horrors. The man hadn’t even let her utter a greeting before he attempted to murder them.

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” Gale had complained, jumping out of the way.

Tav was in the middle of casting a fire spell when she felt a heavy gush in her underwear. She stuttered, registering the feeling, and attempted the spell again. This time, her aim was off, narrowly missing the wizard and instead scorching the hair on the top of his head. 

"My friend, have you lost your mind?" Gale shouted at her. "We discussed the value of my own life at length! To kill me is counterproductive!"

Her hand went to her abdomen instinctively as the cramps lurched through her. “My bad,” she stammered.  She took a few steps back, watching Karlach charge ahead with a hammer to whack the vulture-like monstrosity just a hair's breadth away from the wizard’s face. 

"To be sure, I am also averse to being bludgeoned!" he yelled at Karlach. A dripping, acid-coated arrow flew overhead from behind him and pierced the Filro’s right eyeball. Gale threw his hands up in the air with exasperation and quickly teleported himself away to higher, safer ground, muttering something about the stars not being in his favor.

Lae’zel probed at Filro’s lifeless body with her foot. “The elf is dead,” she confirmed, sounding disappointed. 

Astarion stepped up beside Tav, tucking his arrows away. “Did one of those wretched creatures manage to swipe at you?” His tone displayed concern, but his face betrayed a hint of intrigue. 

Shadowheart whipped her head around at his question. “Are you hurt?” she asked, scanning Tav’s body for noticeable wounds. “I’ll tend to you when we’ve set up camp for the night.” 

“No!” Tav blustered, causing Shadowheart to raise her eyebrows in confusion. She quickly clarified: “I’m fine . Astarion is mistaken. I think you might do well to take a look at Gale, though. Perhaps he has a fingernail that needs mending.” 

“I heard that!” Gale retorted.

In the hours that followed, Tav maintained her distance from Astarion – as he had made it abundantly clear that he could smell her – while they all continued their search for a spot to set up camp. Eventually, they stumbled on an area with access to freshwater, a true blessing. By this point, Tav was simply relieved to have her long cloak, otherwise the others would’ve known for sure that she was bleeding through her trousers like a youngling. She diligently set up her tent, choosing a spot far away from Astarion and close to the lake.

Astarion had not asked to feed on her since they left for the Underdark, and Tav had no intention of offering, especially considering the situation unfolding between her thighs.

Their interactions had remained normal as can be, largely because Tav had bigger matters to occupy her mind than pondering her feelings for him, as if she were a little girl with a crush. Time was a valuable commodity lately and she wouldn’t use her precious free moments dwelling on a man who almost certainly didn’t give her a second thought, unless it was to take something from her. Tav scolded herself every time she found herself looking at him too long or when she thought she saw something softer underneath the shield of malevolence he wore. It was all just a game to him, she told herself, like it was to most vampires. 

After everyone had gone to bed, Tav finally snuck out to wash her clothes at the lake and go for a dip in the water. She wasn’t a prude – she had bathed many times with the women, but sometimes she just desperately needed a moment to herself. Even for something as silly as scrubbing the stains of her cycle out from her pants. She finished cleaning up and made her way back to her tent, dismayed that her fresh cloth was already getting ruined. Tav nearly jumped out her skin when she walked into her bunk and saw Astarion lying nonchalantly on her bedroll. 

“Are you mad?” she hissed at him. “You’re lucky I’m not human, or I would’ve had half a mind to stab you in the darkness.” 

“We both know you wouldn’t have been quick enough to,” Astarion drawled, sitting up. “You sorcerers leave much to be desired when it comes to your hand-eye coordination.” 

They looked at each other for a beat, both listening for any stirring sounds from the others. 

“Why are you here?” Tav demanded.

Astarion replied with a sly grin. “I happen to recall a certain somebody making the generous offer that if I ever got hungry, I could come to them.” 

Tav’s fingers combed through her damp hair as she reflected back on an offer she did indeed make.

“I did say that, yes,” she admitted. “But we can’t tonight. Not until I–”

She halted, a painful cramp pulsing through her.

“…Until I’m done with my bleeding. I’ve lost too much already, I’ll be too weak for you to feed on and Gods know if you end up draining me, you’ll have to wake a very cranky Shadowheart up.” 

Tav opened her tent and held her arm out, signaling for him to get out. “We can revisit this in a few days. I’ll let you know when.” 

“Revisit? What, like we’re discussing tactical advances?” Astarion bristled with frustration as he stood up.

"My dear, I don't believe you grasp the... gravity of the situation. Your scent–“ He accused, his tone growing more intense. "–has been tormenting me for hours. It has taken every ounce of restraint in my being to resist the urge to drag you away from the others and drink until I’ve drowned in your blood. I am utterly and maddeningly ravenous.”

Her hand faltered from the tent flap, closing them in the obscurity of her tent again.

“It won’t have to hurt like usual.” His pupils dilated wildly as he inched closer. Astarion looked feral. “No biting required. I’d hate to waste precious resources.” 

Tav’s face paled when she realized what he was suggesting. She didn’t think she was comfortable with the idea, and yet a warmth started blooming through her.

“And it might provide a distraction from the pain in your belly,” he hummed, latching her tent shut. “I’d say this benefits the both of us.”

“Who’s the pragmatic one now?” Tav answered, her toes tingling. It was a very bad idea, she told herself, way too intimate for what she originally offered.

But when Astarion kneeled down, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns up her thighs before he pressed a gentle kiss against her abdomen, and whispered, "Please, darling," she made up her mind.

It was the sensible thing to do. In fact, she reasoned with herself, if she gave Astarion perfectly acceptable, readily available blood now, she wouldn't have to put herself through any more bites for a while. His intense gaze met hers as he looked up, his eyes filled with a potent mix of hunger and desire. His nails gently scraped against the back of her knees, willing her to answer him.

“Be quick about it,” she finally relented.

Astarion wasted no time. He turned her around and pushed her onto her bedroll, tugging at the waistband of her pants, shimmying them over her knees. He fingered at the sides of her underwear, leaning down to kiss the top of her navel.  Tav’s insides fluttered from the sensation of him peppering her from top to bottom. His nose pressed against the dampness of the fabric and she nearly blacked out of embarrassment from the deep inhale he took. 

“You smell intoxicating,” Astarion groaned. “Like the very essence of temptation.” He nearly ripped her bottoms off, throwing them to the ground thoughtlessly along with her soiled rag. His cold breath tickled against her. "It's like I'm a moth drawn to a burning flame. I didn't know it was possible for you to smell even more enticing," he said, genuine bewilderment coloring his tone.

“No need to provide commentary…” Tav mumbled, averting her gaze.

Astarion pushed her legs up over his shoulders, spreading her thighs apart to reveal her slick mound. She started to drip with arousal, a stark contrast to the inky blood that painted her folds. 

“Like honeyed fire, so rich and delicious it ensnared me. I felt it – tasted it – in my throat before I came anywhere near you.” 

He dipped the tips of his index and middle fingers to spread her apart, dragging his tongue in one icey, long lick. The chill, a shock to her core, made her twitch as he licked her agonizingly slow from clit to tailbone. He lapped around her inner thighs, nipping at the flesh, forcing a shiver up her spine. Astarion let out a noise when she involuntarily jerked her body against his face, thighs clenching around his head. He swirled his tongue all around, his nose grazing her nub. 

“Oh,” Tav moaned. Her eyes widened in alarm at the unapproved noise, as if it was an admission of weakness, but it only seemed to encourage him to tongue her faster. Biting down on her knuckle was the only way for Tav to suppress the noise that threatened to spill from her mouth as he ate her like a savage animal having its final meal. The sounds of him lapping up and down at her cunt was obscenely erotic, and she felt herself dripping another gush of blood and arousal into his mouth. He slid his tongue as far as he could inside her slit, attempting to clean her inner walls from the nonstop trickle of blood.  She felt his thumb move to her clit to stroke it in slow circles and another whine fell from her mouth. 

Why didn’t he just get his fill and leave? What was the point of toying with her? Tav needed Astarion to stop, she thought foggily. 

He slurped up as much as he could of her blood, then shifted his attention on her swollen clit. Her legs shook against him, threatening to drop, but he kept her up like she weighed nothing. Tav finally mustered up the courage to look down at Astarion, and he must’ve sensed it, as his blown out eyes met hers. She gasped at the sight, her slickness painting his face so beautifully her cunt practically purred in response. 

“Please.” 

Her desire and uncertainty tangled in that one word. She wasn’t sure what she was pleading for. For him to go? To continue?

Astarion responded with a muffled, guttural groan. Her heels dug into his shoulder blades, urging him on, while his lips locked around her clit with a hunger that left her gasping. He suckled her so desperately that his teeth brushed against her, causing her legs to unconsciously spread further, surrendering to the feeling. Tav didn’t know how long they stayed like that; with Astarion dragging his tongue through her slick folds, alternating between frenzied licks and focused suctions on her clit. Before she knew it, an intense orgasm washed over her, prompting a bite on her own fingers to stop her from keening.  She yelped when she broke skin and her fingers shot to his curls as her sex throbbed. But Astarion didn’t stop – he had gone back to tasting her in lazy, drawn out strokes. 

“It’s sinful,” he muttered against her flushed skin. “It's divine.”

Tav pulled at his hair, hoping he would come off from her, hoping he would leave then.  “You’ve not had your fill?” she croaked.

“I would lay here drinking from you all night until I fell asleep, if I had my way. ” 

She watched him lick the inner corners of her thighs, fangs grazing against her flesh, threatening to bite down. Astarion moved up, trailing kisses under her belly button, then maneuvered her legs around his hips. His hands slid up her sides, scrunching Tav’s top up to show just a hint of her breasts, nipples hardened against the sheer fabric. He pulled away, baring a sharp smile, hair disheveled, teeth smeared with her blood, then pressed his clothed cock against her.  “You can stop your little charade now.” 

Before Tav could reply, he caught her lips in a deep kiss, rutting against her in his strained pants. The comedown from her orgasm had caught her with dull inhibitions as she couldn’t help but return the kiss, tasting her fluids on her tongue, coppery and vaguely salty. Tav couldn’t say she shared his sentiment regarding her blood, but she didn’t pull away, brain spiked with his tongue in her mouth. 

“Let me love you,” Astarion whispered tenderly.

Tav suddenly jolted, breaking out of her spell. She pushed at his chest, her body straightening like a lance.  She seethed with frustration. “Get off.” 

He stiffened, pulling away to meet her glare. “Did I do something wrong, my sweet?” 

“Enough with the fucking pet names,” she practically spat. “You don’t owe me. You don’t have to pretend to want me. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to help you, so don’t lie to me and recite sonnets and play pretend lover. ” 

He peeled himself from her, and for once, Astarion didn't respond with a quip or a sly remark.

“I… see. I didn't mean to upset you.” 

Her expression softened, though she couldn't help but feel that if Astarion had wanted to pursue it, he would make a great actor. But Tav didn’t want to put herself through a show, no matter how much she had wanted to watch it. 

Tav sighed, her throat feeling parched as she spoke. "It's alright," she murmured, avoiding his gaze while she reached for her pants. “You know, sometimes, people just want to help you. Because they care about you, and they don’t expect anything back.” 

“Everybody wants something.” Astarion remarked.

“You’re right,” Tav acknowledged quietly, nestling herself in her bedroll and turning over. “I want to get some sleep. Good night, Astarion.” 

** 

Halsin's warning about the Shadow Cursed Lands had been clear: it would be a wasteland where even the animals would be too ghoulish for Astarion to feed on.

So for the rest of their journey towards Gymforge and beyond, Astarion gorged himself on as many creatures as he could. Bats, cave goats, owls, giant lizards – everything was fair game. He even contemplated the bulette at one point, but it smelled awful. He drank from anything and everything that moved, all in an effort to stave off the need to ask Tav for her blood. He didn't want to risk upsetting her again. Astarion was still a wanted man, and as long as she tolerated him, he was safe from Cazador.

Though he was satiated on animal blood, it was like eating plain porridge multiple times a day—nourishment, yes, but completely devoid of pleasure. But that was fine; Astarion didn’t want to grow used to Tav, he was disturbed by the way his body reacted everytime he fed on her. 

After the last feeding, he left for his tent with an aching cock. He had tried to will it away, but Astarion had felt too drunk on delirious bloodlust. Back in his bed, he tugged at himself feverishly, in need of the release that was denied to him. Her smell, taste, body – everything, everything about Tav made him throb with desire. It was only logical, a primal urge, nothing more than that. He had, after all, succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh in the past, no matter how unwilling. 

He understood all too well that the body could respond even when the mind wasn't fully present.

And yet, Astarion remained restless at night. When they all retired to their beds, his mind inevitably turned to think of her. He couldn’t shake the memory of how she ran hot against his bone cold body, hugging him like a furnace. His longing for her went beyond the hunger for her blood, and that realization left him uneasy, causing him to distance himself even more from her. However, he stole glances at her from time to time. Sometimes it happened when they gathered around the campfire for supper, sharing plans and stories. Astarion was particularly drawn to her smile, so sweet that her eyes wrinkled at the corners. He couldn't ignore the knot that twisted in his stomach when he saw her smile for anyone else.

"What will everyone do when this is all over?" Tav asked on one of the rare evenings when everyone remained awake.

“Whatever Lady Shar calls for me to do,” Shadowheart answered with determination.

Lae’zel scoffed dismissively. “Chk. It’s a waste of time to ponder.” 

“Well, I miss my Tara terribly,” Gale confessed sadly. “First thing I do, I would like to see her immediately.”

Karlach leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Aw man… at least you have someone to return to!” 

Wyll flashed a grin at her. "You could always join me, Karlach. We could be the Blades of the Frontiers together, dispensing justice across the land of Faerûn." He dramatically extended his arms to illustrate the vision. Karlach smiled in response. "I'll hold you to that, soldier."

"I'm afraid the grove needs a fresh start without me," Halsin admitted. "I have a feeling I'll be required elsewhere, though I'm not entirely certain where."

Tav flicked her eyes to Astarion and then looked away while she spoke. “I should hope that no matter where we end up, that we all see each other every once in a while.” She rubbed at her arms and then laughed. “Gods, I know I sound so sentimental. But I’ve grown to truly like you crazy fuckers. And it’s going to be really hard to relate to people after this.” 

“You can say that again,” Wyll agreed. 

Astarion hummed, raising his wine goblet with a flourish. "Don’t fret, my dear friends. I’ll host the most extravagant of parties each season in my grand, opulent palace, and you’ll all be my honored guests. I'll personally hunt you down if you fail to attend or neglect the dress code."

“Hear hear!” Karlach cheered. They clinked their glasses together and Astarion’s breath caught when he saw the corners of Tav’s lips curling up. She was smiling at him. And his cold, dead, unbeating heart felt like it had swelled up so large he thought it might burst out of his chest. 

Fuck, Astarion thought. 

** 

The Last Light Inn was a welcome respite for their weary bodies. Each of them had their own rooms with real beds, and they had all ran to claim their rooms. 

However, as usual, trouble had a knack for finding them. Barely an hour into their stay, they were attacked, though they did manage to defend the inn and its people. Tav sat down hours later on a barstool in the tavern, tossing a coin to a tiefling child who was doubling as the barkeep. The little one handed her a mug, only filled halfway, and she chuckled to herself.

"Guess I won't be drowning my sorrows tonight.” 

She took out her journal and went over her notes. There was so much to keep in mind, so much to go over. Tav scribbled away for an hour or two, and as the common area gradually emptied with everyone retiring to their rooms, she remained absorbed in her journal until a familiar voice broke the silence. “You’re up late.” Tav looked up, finding Astarion standing at the edge of the dimly lit hallway. It had been a while since they had been in the same vicinity as each other alone, and she couldn’t help but feel nervous at the sight of him. He made strides to move towards her, stopping only to stoop down and give His Majesty a little scratch behind its ears.

"Says you," she replied. "Though... well, vampires are nocturnal, aren't they?" 

"Well actually, I’ve grown to quite enjoy watching the sunrise." Astarion said as he grabbed a cup from behind the counter. “Can’t wait to get out of this wretched place. I’m afraid the real reason I’m still up is a bit more mundane—I'm feeling a bit on edge." 

He dipped the mug into a barrel of wine and raised an eyebrow at her disapproving look. "What? Free ale is the least we deserve for saving this sorry little inn from destruction." 

Tav couldn't argue with that. She scooted over on her stool to make room for Astarion, and he joined her without a word. Astarion drank and she wrote in her book and they didn’t say anything to each other; it was a comfortable silence, one they both needed. After a while, Tav couldn't stifle a yawn, her eyes bleary from exhaustion.

"If you yawn any more, I'm going to have to toss you into your room," Astarion remarked dryly, his fingers curled around his fourth glass of wine. "You should get some rest."

She looked at him and noticed his cheeks were gaunt. There was no luster to his appearance, and he appeared more tired than she felt on the inside, likely due to a lack of nourishment. Tav had been waiting for him to ask to feed ever since they stepped foot into these cursed lands, but he never sought her out. There were no animals out in these lands, and most of the people they killed were tainted. Unless one of the others felt like offering, he was short on fuel. Astarion was probably starving, and that’s why he was restless.

Maybe she had been too harsh with him. Tav had been the one to offer blood in the first place, and then she had to go and make things awkward with her outburst. A pang of guilt washed over her.

“You too,” Tav replied. “You honestly look a little awful.” He tensed at the comment and she hurried to add: “You’re hungry. When was the last time you ate?” 

With a subtle lick of his lips, Astarion brushed off her concern. “I'm perfectly fine. I'll feast on some True Souls once we reach Moonrise, and you'll see, I'll be right as rain.”

"You're obviously not fine, Astarion," Tav insisted. "I'm not a stranger. I know you."

His eyes searched hers like he was looking for something, a certain melancholy to them that she couldn’t parse out. Then the look vanished, replaced by an empty expression. 

“I don’t think you do.”

She almost believed a few times he cared for her, in his own way. But it was clear now that her original instinct had been correct: it really had been a game for him, and now Astarion was so bored of her, he’d rather starve. Tav knew that if she were smart, she would feel relieved that he no longer wanted to use her, that he had backed off. But all she felt was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

**

Astarion still grieved for his past life, but any memories of family, lovers, or friends remained lost to him. At times, he preferred it that way. Ignorance, after all, had its virtues. Caring for others meant extending a piece of yourself to them, one you often couldn’t get back, and that was a risk he didn’t want to take. Not when he so desperately needed to care for himself. What was so bad about being selfish, he wondered. Astarion couldn't afford to put himself second, not after everything he had been through.

He had come into this world alone, suffered alone, and he would depart this earthly realm alone. 

The second night at the inn, Halsin had gone to find Thaniel, leaving the rest of them to defend his portal while they awaited his return. They hadn't expected the overwhelming forces drawn to destroy it. Wave after wave of undead assailants descended upon them, and they found themselves severely outnumbered.

Tav, determined to protect the portal, was casting a wall of stone when a wraith suddenly teleported and slashed at her, breaking her concentration. Her cry pierced the chaotic battle, and Astarion whipped around at the sound. She crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach in agony.

"No, no, Tav! Get up, damn you!" Astarion shouted. Without hesitation, he lunged forward with his daggers and tore into the wraith until it dissipated into a shadow of smoke. 

"The portal—" Tav choked out, blood spluttering from her throat. He knelt down and pulled her up against him.

“Fuck the portal,” Astarion grit his teeth. “Shadowheart!” 

Shadowheart, engrossed in protecting Karlach and Lae'zel from cursed Harpers trying to break through, couldn't hear him. He yelled for Shadowheart again, but her attention remained focused on the women. Tav had made a promise to Halsin to keep the portal open, and the others were determined to honor that promise. Astarion cursed them all.

As he looked down at Tav, he saw her eyes dimming, her hand outstretched towards the portal. 

She mouthed, "Halsin."

The druid had come back with the child. 

Astarion would’ve turned back time and seen Halsin dead and the Shadow-Cursed lands forever damned if it meant that he would never again have to feel the fear that struck his heart when Tav went slack in his arms.

** 

“She’ll be alright,” Shadowheart assured, the back of her palm against Tav’s forehead, feeling for her temperature. “She just needs some rest.” 

Astarion had been pacing at the end of Tav's bed, unable to leave her side since their return to the inn. "How long?”

“Can’t say. Maybe a few hours.” Shadowheart put the rest of her scrolls and potions away into her bag. “She’s tougher than she looks, Astarion. Don’t worry too much.”

“I’m not worried,” Astarion huffed, fixing his face to a smooth nonchalance. “But… I’ll stay here with her. Just in case. You should get to bed. You know, vampire and all, we're creatures of the night and whatnot.” 

Shadowheart gave him a knowing look before she left.  “Let me know if she still feels poorly.” 

Astarion quietly pulled a chair closer to Tav's bedside, taking care not to stir her. As he sat there, he wondered what he would say when she woke up. He hadn't planned beyond his initial rush into her room. Hours passed, marked by the gentle rise and fall of her breathing and he never got up from his seat. The exhaustion of the day slowly overcame him and though he tried to fight it, Astarion drifted off into a trance.

Tav woke up after some time, groggy and disoriented. After she checked her body and found nothing out of place, she blinked a few times, surprised to find Astarion sitting nearby.

“No,” Astarion mumbled, his fingers gripping the armrest of his chair. “No. I'll never come back.” 

In his nightmares, Cazador taunted him — to his master, he was akin to a mere child who had simply gotten carried away with the infantile joys of freedom. His relentless pursuit haunted him through the forest, and no matter how far into the void Astarion ran, he could still hear him. Oh, how foolish of him to dream of a life that was his own — he would never escape. No matter how far he fled, Cazador would inevitably find him...

"Please, no, Master —" he cried out.

Tav reached her hand out to gently cover one of his. "Astarion," she said, her voice soft and soothing, despite her sore throat. 

His eyes fluttered open, the rims around them inflamed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. 

"Cazador," he sputtered, still caught in the grip of his night terrors. 

"You're safe. He's not here," she reassured him, trying to withdraw her hand, but he held it firmly. "You were having a bad dream."

Astarion nodded. “Yes.” His eyes closed as took a deep inhale, calming himself from the remnants of his nightmare. “I didn’t intend to wake you.” 

“No, no, it’s okay. I woke up on my own.” Tav replied, her expression equally laced with concern and suspicion. “Um. Is something wrong? What are you doing here?”

Astarion was quick with his answer. He didn’t want to tell her that, no, actually, he had gone sick with worry and had practically barked at everyone to clear the way as he rushed into the inn with her injured body. “Everything is fine. We just wanted to make sure you were alright. Everyone else is asleep right now.”

“I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings,” Tav frowned apologetically. “I didn’t mean to worry you all. But Halsin came back with Thaniel, didn’t he?” 

He scowled, recalling how his forehead vein nearly burst when Halsin confirmed that Thaniel was of no use until they located his missing half. "I could've strangled Halsin for taking as long as he did. All for some comatose child."

Her eyes bore into him. “I would’ve gone through the pain a thousand more times to help Halsin cure this land. You can’t blame him for anything.” 

Tav was light and goodness and hope and everything Astarion was not and he wanted to throttle her and tell her that this miserable, revolting world didn’t deserve her. 

“I can, and I will. But thankfully, you’re okay. No need for anyone’s head to roll.”

“Ugh. You are so dramatic,” she laughed, her hand splaying under him. His finger rubbed a circle on the back of her palm. Then she paused, and they stared at each other, and Astarion almost shrank from the intensity of her gaze. “I appreciate you watching over me. I’m good, really. I can take it from here. You can go now.” 

“If that’s what you want,” he replied. 

”I…” She hesitated, her eyes shifting slowly between his, searching for something in them. "What do you want?"

Tav had asked Astarion this question once before, and he had delivered his answer, every word rehearsed and refined countless times with various people.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he confessed. His eyebrows furrowed as he pushed himself to continue. "I… want to free myself from my constant thoughts of you.”

An unfamiliar tightness gripped his throat. Astarion had always thought of her softness as a horrible weakness, but now, with Tav before him, he understood that to be soft was a terribly difficult thing to do.

“I want…” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “... to kiss you.” 

Tav echoed his previous response. 

"Well, if that's what you want."

He was careful, the way he rose to caress her cheek, and agonizingly slow as her lips parted and his cold thumb brushed against them. Astarion closed the gap and pressed a kiss on her, so gentle he thought he only imagined doing it. He tilted her head up, the kiss deepening with a swift graduation of intensity that made Tav cling to him as if he were the only solid thing in her dizzying world. 

This was different, Astarion marveled — this felt like undeniable need.

“I can’t summon up any clever words,” Astarion breathed against her lips. “Just that I want you.” 

“Then shut up for once and have me.” She twined her arms around his neck and his tongue glided past her lips to taste her, eliciting a sound from her that redirected all the blood in Astarion’s body in a sweet rush. Every movement of her lips sent a jolt through his body, fanning the blaze that was shared back and forth between them. 

How maddening was it, that one second Astarion was afraid to falter, and the next she reduced him to desperation.

He devoured her with tongue and teeth, pushing her back into the mattress, only stopping when it felt like they would die from lack of oxygen. Astarion broke away from her embrace, peeled his shirt off and hurled it to the ground, then tugged at her pants; she clumsily arched herself up to help him strip her clothes off. Next was her top, then her underwear; his eyes swept over her, committing every detail and every curve to memory. 

“You, my little dove, truly are a vision.”

Tav laughed with embarrassment, but her laughter dissolved into a moan as Astarion's lips met hers. She kissed him like she was untangling him, and he kissed her like he wanted to own her from the inside out. Then she gasped, the sound shooting straight to his cock. “I’ve wanted you. Everytime. But I was scared.”

He groaned and released her from his mouth, then captured her lips in his again. Astarion had never wanted so hopelessly to see someone come undone under him. 

“I know darling. I’m always right,” he chuckled against her lips, the arrogance hiding the relief he felt. She tsked at him and his fingers gently wrapped over her throat, as the other hand thumbed at her lips. “I’m jealous of your neck,” he mused. “It gets to hold your lovely head up, when it could be my hands instead.” 

It was sickening, Astarion thought, how unbelievably, excruciatingly hard he was, and he had barely even touched her. Tav watched him curiously, her eyes raking over his body with lust.  “I want to taste you,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Let me.” 

“Not tonight,” he said simply, wanting nothing more than to see her pretty lips wrap around his cock and to see her struggle for air. But he’d be lying if the simple act of denying her didn’t turn him on. Astarion prodded at her lips with his fingers, knocking at her teeth, slipping two into her mouth. “You can work for that.” 

She opened her mouth without further complaint.  He pressed down on her tongue and she sucked as he slowly twisted his fingers around. Astarion lowered a trail of kisses down her face, peppering her jaw, neck, collarbones, the dip between her breasts. Then, he took his spit slicked fingers out with a plop, saliva trailing out from her lips, before moving down to spread open her wet folds. Tav was dripping with arousal, eyes fluttering in anticipation of pleasure, and Astarion thought he’d like to keep her like this forever. He pinched at her clit then rubbed firm and slow; her hips twitched against him, silently asking for him to go faster, harder, anything, to make her cum. 

But Astarion wasn’t going to let her, he had never intended to let her cum – at least not yet, it was too soon, not when he wanted to unravel her more.

“Get on your knees for me, darling.”

Tav had no choice but to roll over and prop herself up on her elbows. She looked back at him, her eyes glassy with frustration. He could barely hold himself together to whisper sweet nothings into her back, something that had been so vile to do before and so easy to do now. Astarion ached to have her: anywhere, in every position, in every possible way, to mark her and make it so that everyone would know that Tav was his to have. 

He tried to shake away the obsessive thought but it burned through him so deeply that it nearly pushed Astarion to rage. His kisses dragged lower and lower until his hands squeezed at the undersides of her ass. Astarion spread her thighs apart and opened her up like ripe fruit with his thumbs, watching her drool drip down her folds. He lapped his tongue up from her glistening folds to her rim and Tav’s knees buckled under the sensation.   

Astarion wasn’t just eating her out, he was tonguefucking her; he delved deeper, groaning against her as she pushed back into his face and her musk clouded his mind. The taste of her constant, dripping wetness was intoxicating, second only to her life-giving blood. It threatened to drown Astarion, like a violent wave crashing at the shore of his senses. 

He snaked in and out of her puckered hole, back to her cunt, everything growing slick and sloppy and sensitive, wet sounds mixing with moans spilling from both of them. The contrast of the cold of his tongue and the hotness of her cunt was exquisite, and he thought Tav deserved the gift of his fingers again. His index and middle fingers slid through to part the lips of her sticky cunt, then disappeared, quickly thrusting in and out of her. 

“I need–” She made a strangled sound before she buried her face into her pillow, not wanting to make any more noise should the rooms next door hear.  Then, she nearly sobbed at the sudden loss of his lips against her, though his fingers were still deep at her base. He reached forward to tug at her hair abruptly, bringing her head up from the bed. 

“You need what?” Astarion feigned ignorance, not slowing down the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of her. Tav reached down with her hand to press against her clit, grinding her palm flat against her pubic bone. She humped against her hand and back into his fingers, again and again until he released her hair and snatched her hand and held it against her back as he buried a third finger into her cunt. 

“Fuck, Astarion.” 

The way Tav cried out his name made Astarion want to drag this out, to deny her the way she had done to him for so many weeks. Until she was a sobbing, pleading, pathetic mess. He pressed a wet kiss against her cunt and barely held back a wicked smile when she shook as his fingers curled, pulling and pushing in her.

“Sorry pet, I can’t hear you.” 

“Fucking...“ Tav grit her teeth, her temper rising when she realized he was playing with her. “All this time you've been accosting me and now you want to tease?"

"Little known fact about me, I'm actually hard of hearing in one ear," he lied, pushing a fourth finger into her squelching cunt. Tav pushed her face into the pillow and groaned in frustration, before picking her head back up, choking out the words.

"Astarion, I need you to fuck me." 

“Oh,” he replied, like the answer hadn’t been so obvious. “All you had to do was use your words.”

He withdrew his fingers from her. Tav strained her head to see him tugging his pants down, cock springing out, beautiful and veiny, precum leaking and turned on to the point of agony. Astarion gave himself one firm stroke from root to tip and back. She bumped against him, but he pushed her back down and dragged the tip through her cunt. 

“So wet.” He slid the head between her slick folds, rubbing up to her clit, and back down. Again and again, each time dipping closer to where she needed him most in a torturously unhurried pace. “You’re always so wet for me, aren’t you, my sweet?” 

She moaned an agreement into the bed and ground herself against him, hard enough that Astarion felt relief all around his painfully erect cock. It was truly difficult to stop himself from fucking her deep into the mattress, but the novelty of how much he enjoyed seeing her squirm under him was too new, too enthralling.

“Looks like you enjoy the pet names after all.” 

“Astarion,” Tav cried, rutting desperately on his cock. She looked like she would either break down in tears or hit him. He thought he would enjoy either option. 

Astarion flipped her over on her back and summoned the best of his self control to kick off his pants. Then he kissed her deeply and pushed in, slowly, stretching her out; mesmerized by the needy look on her face and the way her lips parted in a gasp. He wanted to savor this, to paint a picture in his mind to look back on in case it never happened again, but it only lasted a few seconds before Tav wrapped her legs around his waist, willing more of him into her. 

“Tav,” Astarion stuttered, grabbing hold of her hips roughly. “Cheeky little pup — so desperate.”

He slowly dragged out of her until only the tip of his cock was left, holding her legs apart so he could admire the view of her taking the entirety of his length as he pushed back in leisurely. 

“Astarion, fuck me, please, I can’t breathe until you do.” 

Would he ever tire of his name being used like a prayer? Astarion growled in response, pulling and burying himself at the hilt of her cunt. Then he fucked her faster - the pace brutal and unrelenting - and her walls clenched so tight around him that it hurt, a smooth and velvety pain along his cock. When Tav’s eyes rolled back he freed a hand to grab her throat, forcing her to look at him.

“I would tear myself open limb from limb if you could only see the mess you’ve made of me,” he panted. 

Tav choked around his fingers, unable to reply, eyes wide in disbelief; Astarion released her throat to grip the back of her thighs and pin her knees to her chest with bruising strength. He lost himself, he didn’t stop moving, didn’t let up. Fucking her felt both sacred and like sacrilege, like being eviscerated by divine rapture, like something he simply didn’t deserve. He would have chained himself down at her altar and would've ripped through his own ribcage with his bare hands to offer his lungs as sacrifice if that's what she demanded. 

“Yes, it’s so good, Astarion—” Tav babbled incoherently under him, her breasts jiggling with each thrust. “You’re so good. So fucking good.” 

Astarion lurched forward with a groan and buried his face into her juncture between her neck and shoulder, inhaling sharply as his nose nudged at her fading wound. It was wholly unnatural to resist biting her, but he did. He wasn’t good, he had probably never been good in any lifetime. But he wanted to be – would try to be – if that’s what she wanted. Astarion fucked her to the ragged rhythm of his name, hard and deep and devastating, hissing everytime her walls flexed and gripped around him. 

“Bite me,” Tav begged, her arms sliding around him, one slipping into his hair and the other clawing at the scarred skin of his back. “You don’t have to ask. Never.” 

Astarion wavered, but only for a second. His teeth dragged over her skin like the point of a knife and she leaned into it, the pounding of her heart echoing in Astarion’s ears. Tav let out a needy pant of encouragement when he sank in, nothing careful or gentle about his bite. Hot pulsing blood rushed into his mouth; it poured into every vein in his body, exploding everywhere at once.

Tav thrashed under him, threading her fingers through his curls and holding him in place.  He drank and sucked until the skin underneath him spurted so much blood that it spilled out past the corners of his mouth, drenching their chests as they rocked against each other. He dragged a finger through the rain of blood and when it was coated he smeared it on her swollen clit, working frenzied, clumsy circles on it. His arm grew tense with the speed and intensity of it but he didn’t stop. Tav’s sopping wet cunt sucked him in messily in the silence and a dark satisfaction curled through Astarion’s gut, knowing that it was impossible to not hear them throughout the inn.

“You’ll be my undoing,” he told her, less of a statement and more of a promise. Astarion kissed her through the film of blood that coated the inside of his mouth, wet and metallic and sweet. He groaned when she licked the taste of her off his lips and he fucked into her like an animal, spurred on by the cries she tried and failed to stifle. When Tav came, she clamped down so blindingly tight on Astarion’s cock that an orgasm ripped from his body forcefully, shooting through him and spilling into her as deeply as her cunt would allow. 

**

"You'll stay here?" Tav's words were a barely audible request, masked as a question. The persistent voice that had carved out an unwelcome home in his brain urged him to get up and leave. But Tav curled around him like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he couldn’t find the strength to listen. 

Maybe she would ruin him. Maybe they’d consume each other. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and pretend tonight never happened. Or maybe some things just burned brighter in the wake of destruction. Astarion was drawn to the fire now, even if it meant risking his wings. 

Astarion pressed a gentle kiss to her damp forehead and drew her closer to his chest. Tav hummed a satisfied sigh, the heat from her body radiating and wrapping him like the thickest blanket in the dead of winter. In that fleeting moment, he wondered if there was a way to bottle her warmth and tuck it away for his loneliest hours.

He chose to settle for a simple truth.

“Yes.” 

“I have no intentions of letting you go. If you come with me you’re signing on for all of me. I don’t know any other way to be with you. It’s all in for me. And I want it to be all in for you too.”

He said no pickles!

Another piece from my bud LeiraArt!

Can’t wait to have this signed 😭

Hello, friends! Here is a snippet of Chapter 9 of my bg3 isekai fanfic, Indelible Imprints! You can read the whole chapter on Ao3! I'll be posting the chapter to Tumblr tomorrow!

Indelible Imprints

Chapter 11

Word Count: 6k

Summary:

-Erin has nightmares -Astarion stumbles across Erin doing yoga with Gale -He gets jelly but ends up joining -Erin is busy -Mutual Pining

Ao3

Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Hey friends!

I had planned on getting this chapter out much sooner, but I was moving into a new place and celebrating my birthday (You could reblog or leave me a lil comment as a bday present, if you wanna 😜) a couple of weeks ago, so I got kinda busy. Now that I’m mostly settled after the move, I’m hoping to update more regularly again. (Sorry, I feel like I’m always saying that and then taking a month to update again 😬)

This chapter is a bit slower, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it! They needed some time to rest in camp and be confused about their feelings. 😅

Tag list: @roguishcat @thisisew

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

Erin 

Erin could see the sun seeping through the fabric of her tent as she stared at the ceiling from her bedroll. Her dreams had not been restful the previous night, and she’d given up on trying to fall back asleep around an hour or so ago. She couldn’t tell how much time had actually passed. Without her phone working, or a watch or an alarm clock, all she had to give her an idea of the time was the sun. Most mornings she just woke to the sounds of the early risers in camp and the smell of Gale’s breakfast. 

She was tired. And sore. So sore. Even before last night’s fitful sleep interrupted with nightmares, she’d been having trouble sleeping most nights. Initially, the exhaustion of simply existing in Faerûn was enough to have her completely wiped by the end of the day. Unfortunately, her body had gotten used to it and couldn’t easily fall into a sound sleep anymore. There was a general sense of anxiety that she felt every night, so aware of the threat of danger all around her. Her sleep was always light, as though she’d need to be able to jump out of bed at a moment’s notice. 

Then there was the lying on the ground every night that she just couldn’t get used to. She missed her bed and the nights she washed her sheets, falling asleep on warm, crisp linens, the smell of her lavender laundry detergent filling her nose. Sleeping on a thin bedroll every night over the threadbare floor of her tent made her feel like the princess and the pea, always feeling something uncomfortable underneath her as she slept. 

None of those things were what kept her up last night though. Now that the sun was coming out and she could see a little better, she reached her arms out in front of her to inspect. She scanned them, twisting this way and that. Observing the unblemished milky skin of her inner arms and wrists, she ran her fingers over the places the hag had cut her yesterday. Or, made her cut herself. Shadowheart’s healing left no evidence of the wounds, but Erin could still feel the ghost of something there. Like a scar over nerves, not painful, but tugging at the skin. It was probably just in her head, but the nightmares didn’t help. 

I can tell you want her.   

She shut her eyes. 

Don’t you want to know what she tastes like, first? 

She shook her head, pushing her palms into her eye sockets. 

STOP, she commanded herself, trying to force the memories out of her head. 

Rolling to her side, she brushed her fingers lightly across the wall of her tent. Attempting to ground herself, she focused on the way the texture of the fabric felt underneath her fingertips. 

When the hag had possessed her, Erin had been so disoriented that she could hardly register the things Ethel made her say or do. The only thing she could really focus on was the pain. But things had come back to her as she slept. First, she’d woken to the sound of Shadowheart’s scream, and the feeling of her bones breaking beneath her foot. In the next nightmare, she’d been choking on hot, thick blood, running down her throat from the deep cut in her tongue as she laughed and it gurgled in her mouth. She could still taste the metallic tang of it in her mouth, and she couldn’t understand the appeal it had to Astarion.  

Astarion. 

God, the dreams of him were the worst. She still couldn’t fully wrap her head around everything that had happened with him yesterday. Why had he come after all? What had changed his mind? 

He probably just didn't want to lose his daily meals, she thought. Who could blame him when he'd starved for so long? 

He'd been so angry when she insisted on finding Mayrina. She remembered the way he snarled at her. 

That hag will rip you to pieces. 

It stung when he didn’t come with them. She worried about him being left alone, but she couldn't force him follow her. Even if she could have, she wouldn't have made him walk straight into danger with her. She wished she’d listened to him so he didn’t have to. It would have spared her each horrible flash of memory of what she did to him - what the hag made her do. The taste of his lips lingered on her tongue and she felt disgusted with herself. She couldn’t believe he’d agreed to hug her after all that. 

She could still feel the weight of him on top of her when she first broke from the hag's possession, growing heavier once the mask fell off and he relaxed his body over hers, pressing their foreheads together. 

His body above hers was so comforting, and she was so grateful, so she asked if she could hug him. After his reaction to her first hug that morning, she was prepared for him to say no. She hadn’t planned to hug him again since he'd seemed so uncomfortable. On their way to Ethel’s she’d been trying to think of something else she could do with him, like fist-bumping with Lae'zel. Something unique to him, like a secret handshake, if he'd entertain it. But she hadn't had enough time to come up with anything before that moment, and he was right there, and she really needed a hug. So she asked. 

Yes.  

He’d said it so quickly. 

She was so relieved. He shocked her when he returned the hug, still on top of her, lying there for so long she nearly forgot where they were. Her chest ached when Shadowheart came back to them and she had to let go. Probably just sore from him lying there too long. 

Things seemed normal again so quickly, but then she’d had her fit with Mayrina and her spat with Astarion about the monster hunter. She cringed thinking about the emotional little speech she’d given him after it all. Sincerity like that felt so… embarrassing. But he seemed to accept it and her apology without judgement. Well… as little judgement as can be expected from Astarion. Rubbing circles on the pads of her thumbs with her forefingers, she thought of the feel of his silky hair in her fingers yesterday. Closing her eyes, she thought of the way he’d closed his own, letting her fix his curls for him, and she felt her cheeks grow hot at the memory. 

Why did I do that?  

Sitting up, she tried to shrug off her embarrassment. Maybe if she didn’t acknowledge it or act differently around him, he’d forget. If neither of them brought it up, she could pretend it didn't happen. 

She sighed, falling back against her bedroll. Staring blankly ahead, she wondered how long she could get away with staying in her tent this morning. 

A soft, "ahem," outside answered the question for her. 

Pulling her blanket over her head as though it might make her disappear, she groaned. "Isn't getting possessed and fighting a hag a good enough excuse to sleep in a little?" Not that she was sleeping. But she didn’t feel ready to get up and talk to people yet. 

She heard Gale chuckle through the fabric of her tent. "It most certainly is, and the others have already decided to spend the morning resting before continuing on our journey. I only had something to ask of you, if you'd care to indulge me. May I come in?" 

Erin looked around her, grabbing the dirty clothes scattered haphazardly around the space and tucking them into a corner.  

"You can come in. I'm a bit of a mess, but I'm decent." It was true. Astarion had been right when he said she smelled gross last night, so she grabbed her toiletries and rushed to the lake to bathe as soon as they got back to camp. Too tired to braid her hair or wait for it to dry, she went to sleep with it wet. It was probably flat from wherever she’d laid her head and bumpy in all the wrong places. At least she was fully dressed, having changed into her university t-shirt and purple sweatpants before going to sleep. 

Gale's head popped through the flap in her tent as he let himself in. 

"My friend, if this is your idea of yourself as a mess, I'm quite curious to know how you dress up." he smiled warmly. 

"Ha!" she let out a genuine laugh. "You might change your mind if you smelled my morning breath." 

He chuckled, "I'll be sure not to sit downwind of it, then." 

Once Gale sat down, Erin crawled over to her duffel bag and started picking things from it. Satisfied she had everything she was looking for, she reached out to hand it all to Gale. 

"What's this?" he questioned, looking a little confused. 

“Some of the magical things we've picked up so far. I pulled them from the camp chest before going to bed last night so I could give them to you. I could have sworn there were more, but I was pretty tired and probably missed some things. That's why you're here, right? I hope it's enough." 

She'd handed him several rings and necklaces, pressing them into his palms, encouraging him to take them. Looking down at them, Gale's smile softened and he thanked her. 

"Your kindness is very much appreciated. But I must admit that my condition is currently stable and I didn't come to you for this." He started to hand the items over to return, but she only took his hands and pressed his fingers closed, patting them amicably.  

"Keep them anyway,” she insisted. “That way you can have them on hand when you do need them." 

"I'll endeavor to make the loss up to you,” he responded.  

She shook her head. "You don't owe me anything, Gale. We all found these things together. You’re entitled to them just as much as any of us." 

He nodded, “You’re too kind. Truly.” 

She waved the comment away, “Don’t worry about it. So what did you come to ask me, if not that?” 

“Oh, right! I’d nearly forgotten,” he brightened. "I was hoping you'd let me borrow your little device from your homeworld." 

Erin’s brows raised for a moment in surprise. "Oh, well... I don't know if you remember me mentioning this before, but it's not working anymore. It's out of power." She frowned, a bit sad at the reminder. 

"I do remember! I also recall you saying that it ran on electricity!” He leaned toward her conspiratorially, dropping his voice to a mock-whisper, “I don't know if you've noticed, but I have a bit of electricity at my disposal." 

Uncomfortable with what he seemed to be suggesting, she hesitated. "I don't think shooting lighting at it is a good idea, Gale. I know it's not working, but I'd still like to keep it in one piece." 

"You misunderstand me,” he reassured her. “I wouldn't dream of doing something so destructive. I'd like to study it a bit, and see if perhaps a small concentration of electricity would help to fix it. No bolts of lightning or anything so dramatic required." 

Erin considered his request for a moment. After her phone died, she hadn't expected she'd be able to charge it again in Faerûn. Still, it was sentimental, and she hated the idea of it getting irreparably damaged. She studied Gale’s face. He seemed considerate, and she trusted he'd be careful. Making her decision, she dug into her duffel again. 

"Here," she handed the phone to him, then the portable charger. "If you wouldn't mind practicing on that before you try anything with the phone, I'd appreciate it. They're different, but they both run on electricity and I'd miss the smaller one a little less if it got ruined. There's a small bulb here," she pointed at the charging indicator, "it'll light blue if it's got a charge - if it's working, I mean." 

He accepted the items with careful hands. "Of course. I'll take great care with your treasures, my friend. Thank you for indulging me." He stood up to leave. "I'll let you get back to resting now." 

"Wait,” she stopped him, realizing she didn’t want to be left alone. Not with her nightmares still so fresh in her head. “Are you up for a bit of stretching? I promised to do some morning yoga with you yesterday." 

"Are you sure? I thought you wanted to sleep in?" 

She shrugged. "I'm already up. Give me a minute and I'll meet you by the campfire. Should be plenty of space around there." 

"Well then,” he smiled. “I'll see you in a moment."

Astarion

Erin was in her hideous purple sweatpants again. It was the first thing he noticed when he stepped outside of his tent that morning.  

The second thing he noticed, was that she was lying on her back, legs spread wide open as she gripped her feet and pulled her knees to her chest. 

The third thing he noticed, was the wizard, sitting on his knees in front of her, watching her intently. 

That uncomfortable feeling he’d been getting lately whenever he saw her being friendly with the wizard roiled inside him. He couldn’t explain the twisting he felt in his gut whenever she smiled at Gale, or hugged one of their companions. Didn’t understand why it bothered him so much. 

As he glared at the wizard, Astarion noticed him move forward to press Erin’s legs further up. Nostrils flaring, Astarion appeared in front of them before he knew what he was doing. It was too late to rethink and turn back though, as they’d already noticed him and looked up from their strange position. He attempted to feign nonchalance. 

"In the middle of camp, for everyone to see? Bold of you." His tone came off a bit clipped, and he hoped Erin didn’t notice. 

She looked up at him quizzically, as though he were the one behaving strangely in this scenario. "Astarion, you're the only other person out here." 

Was his presence alone not enough to discourage… whatever this was? 

"So you thought you'd give me a private show?" He asked, attempting to mask his incredulity with a tone he hoped was casual. 

Erin and Gale exchanged awkward glances before she looked back to him and asked, "...What do you think we're doing?" 

He couldn’t stand this. "What in the bloody hells am I supposed to think you're doing?!" he demanded, out of patience. 

Erin stood up. "Would you like to join us so we can show you?" she offered. 

"Would I- excuse me?" 

It wasn’t as though it was a completely foreign proposition to him. The offer was very familiar. He'd just never expected Erin to suggest such a thing to him. And he certainly didn’t want to participate in any joining that involved Gale. He was clearly misunderstanding something, and he ran through their conversation in his head, searching for an explanation. 

He must have taken too long, because Erin reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, as though to calm him. Looking down to where she touched him, his face relaxed a little and she apparently took it as a sign to explain further. 

"Remember when Gale said he liked to stretch yesterday?” she asked, “and I said we'd do yoga?" 

He did remember. He just had no idea what 'yoga' was or what doing it entailed. 

His voice came out colder than he’d intended when he answered. "I suppose I didn't imagine you were offering something so salacious." 

Her mouth dropped slightly, and her voice raised a little, clearly offended. "Excuse me? There is nothing salacious going on here, and I don’t appreciate the suggestion that there is.” 

Shit.  

She was angry with him. Again. 

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to backtrack, and pressed her further instead. "Then what?" 

Her eyes were wide with disbelief, and he couldn’t understand how he’d become the villain in this scenario. Irritation becoming more and more evident in her voice, she continued to explain as though she were educating a toddler. "Stretching,” she said. “That's literally it. I was just showing Gale different stretches that are popular where I’m from. We were just doing a pose to help get rid of tightness in the hips. It was all perfectly innocent. The pose is even called, 'happy baby,' it doesn't get much more pure than that." 

Happy, indeed.  

His eyes shifted toward the wizard and narrowed. "And that's why Gale was studying your crotch so intently?" 

"I was not!” Gale blustered. “I was studying the pose so that I might replicate it. I'm merely a pupil observing his teacher.” 

Astarion snorted. "Yes, such an observant little student. And a rather hands-on approach you have to learning."  

Gale blushed and stammered, embarrassed, but Erin cut in. 

"I asked him to do that,” she defended the wizard. Astarion’s face pinched in disgust, not wanting to hear what she asked Gale to do to her. She ignored his expression and continued, “I was showing him how another person can help you get a deeper stretch. I've been sore as hell with all the walking and fighting we've been doing and this is helping me just as much as it's helping him." 

Astarion looked at her skeptically.  

Meeting his gaze, she shrugged, apparently tired of trying to convince him.  

"You should join us,” she suggested. “You're the one who was telling me I needed to loosen up yesterday.” She paused, then gave him a cheeky little smirk. “Let's see how loose you can get." 

Wait… Is she… flirting?  

He was stunned for a moment.  

Where did this come from?   

She’d never reciprocated his own flirtations, let alone initiate any of her own.  

No. She was probably only teasing, unaware of how it sounded.  

Still, the challenge stirred something inside him. If she was going to get loose, he wanted to watch. And he wanted to join her. 

"Show me," was all he said.

*** 

Astarion had to admit, if only to himself, that he felt much better after following Erin’s instruction. Some of the positions she’d guided them in felt a bit ridiculous, but every time he looked up, prepared to refuse to continue, he saw her smiling widely at Gale for following her movements exactly. 

Teacher’s pet.  

The thought of being shown up by the wizard, whose knees cracked louder than the lightning he shot from his fingertips, was not something Astarion wanted to entertain. So, he followed Erin’s movements precisely and was quick to assist when she wanted to demonstrate a partnered modification to a stretch. He felt a smug sort of delight in preventing Gale from touching her again and forcing the wizard to watch as he touched her instead. Her reactions to his assistance were a reward all on their own. 

Ah, yep, that’s perfect. If you wouldn’t mind holding that for about 30 seconds for me? Ahhh, thank you, that’s great.  

The nearly breathless way she’d praised him, so full of relief, send a thrill straight to his core. When she’d let out that first little sigh, he had to fight against the shudder it sent through him. He hadn’t quite expected it, and it threw him off for a moment. That’s when he decided he wasn’t going to let Gale have another turn to assist her under any circumstances.  

Despite what her little noises did to him, there was something oddly respectful about it all. Trusting, even. Touching someone in that way felt strangely intimate and chaste all at the same time. She instructed him on where to touch her and when he followed, nothing else happened. She didn’t wriggle suggestively underneath him, and his hands never wandered or groped. Gale was watching the entire time, of course, but something about it made Astarion think it wouldn’t have mattered if he wasn’t there at all. In those moments, he didn’t feel like anyone else existed around them. 

There were even a couple of instances where he’d allowed Erin to assist him in achieving a deeper stretch. She asked permission before touching him each time, and respected it the few times when he managed a polite, ‘no, thank you.’ When he did allow it, he understood her sighs of relief. It truly did feel nice. He was nearly overwhelmed by it. Being able to touch someone and be touched in return - to make their bodies feel good without it leading to sex was… a revelation. And to not feel utterly disgusted and filled with self-loathing afterward? A miracle. 

It had been a lot to process, and he excused himself to his tent shortly afterward, muttering some excuse he couldn’t even remember now. He could hear Gale sighing his own thanks and relief to Erin from where he sat, suggesting they make it a daily practice. While he found himself mildly annoyed at the wizard’s participation, Astarion felt a flutter of excitement in his chest at the idea of doing this with Erin again. Alone in his tent, he allowed himself to smile at the thought. 

He wondered at his initial reaction to seeing Erin and Gale together that morning. Originally, he had been leaving his tent to go and talk with Erin. His trances were rarely restful, but he didn’t even try to trance that night, too consumed with everything that had happened yesterday. He hadn't been prepared to find her so close to someone else. 

He felt sick for it, but he couldn’t stop replaying the moments when she’d pressed her thumb into his mouth and licked across his lips over and over again in his mind. They weren’t her actions, he knew; They were the hag’s. But that fact couldn’t keep him from imagining what it might have been like if it had been her, under different circumstances, of course - no hags involved. He wondered if she was even aware of what the hag had made her do. Could she be imagining what it would be like, to do it all on purpose, too? 

Is this what a friend would be thinking about? he wondered.  

And we’re still friends? she’d asked him yesterday.  

In truth, he didn’t know. The thought of having a friend was appealing, if a little novel. But something about labeling Erin as a friend was dissatisfying, and thinking of her applying the label to him was even worse. For whatever reason, he couldn’t quite warm up to the idea - despite feeling pulled to her, wanting a connection. 

He didn't even know if he wanted to pursue the seduction anymore. She'd shut down his flirting so early on, he didn’t know how to move forward, and everything was moving so slowly.  

Playing the rake was all he knew. He'd never spent so much time with one of his victims before. Never had to think past the initial charm. 

No. She is not a victim. Thinking of her in that way, even just for a moment, made his chest tighten. He forced himself to take deep breaths, attempting to settle himself by focusing on the unnecessary action. 

She was his friend. Perhaps companion was a better word? She was something to him. Someone. He can't remember ever having someone. It made him want to protect it, whatever it was. There was also another part of him that wanted it - wanted her - only for himself. It was the part that made his stomach sink when he saw her with anyone else. She was his friend. His. 

But she seemed to want to be friends with everyone, so he was no more special to her than the rest of the group.  

If he could get her to care for him, fall for him, maybe he would be.  

To what end, though? She was already giving him her blood. Looking out for his safety. Everything his original plan of seducing her was supposed to ensure. She was just giving it to him. 

There was no guarantee she'd continue to give, though. She didn't know the things he’d done, what a monster he was. There were things about his past he needed to tell her, and soon, just for the sake of practicality while they traveled. Encountering the Gur had made it clear to him that he was being hunted by his master, and they'd need to be prepared. He was dreading the inevitable change in the way she looked at him once her told her, though.  

He was surprised she hadn't pushed him for more information about his past already.  

Perhaps she simply doesn't care.  

He knew the thought wasn’t true. More likely, she was respecting his privacy because he'd been snappish and cagey about sharing details about himself with her before. She never pushed the cleric, either. Everyone was allowed to keep their secrets with her. Still, he found it easier to think of if he imagined she didn’t care. Even if he wanted her to.

*** 

The group had chosen to take the day to rest after yesterday's fights, and Astarion decided he would use that to his advantage. He planned to whisk Erin away under the pretense of additional archery lessons so he could talk to her about everything that's happened. Not to mention she’d improved much faster than he’d anticipated, and it made him nervous that she might decide she didn’t need him anymore.  

Why on earth had he told her that the bow he'd given her was enchanted? It didn’t have a trace of magic in it as far as he could tell. She’d just been so reluctant to accept the damned thing. He knew she’d been insecure about her abilities, so he thought telling her it was magical would entice her to just take it already. But now her aim had improved and she thought it was because she had an enchanted bow. He’d have to make sure she practiced relentlessly or risk the stupid lie falling apart.  

It was her fault, really. All she had to do was take his little gifts so he wouldn’t feel so indebted to her, take them and think of him fondly, like a dog receiving treats. But she never just simply accepted, she was always asking him why or where he got it. As if any of that mattered. He sighed and left his tent again, already planning on having her shoot at targets until she couldn’t hold her arms up anymore. Maybe longer.  

It seemed he would have to wait, however. Out in the middle of camp again in her stupid purple pants, apparently staying in camp to rest meant not getting dressed for the day, Erin was doing lunges with the other ladies of the group. Karlach counted aloud, timing the duration of their movements for the others with ease, while Lae’zel went through the motions effortlessly and Shadowheart determinedly followed suit, a slight sheen of sweat starting to form on her brow. Erin was breathing heavily and he could hear her heartbeat from where he stood.  

Well, she would clearly tire out soon enough. It wouldn’t be long before she was unoccupied again, so he decided to take the opportunity to go to the lake and wash a few of his things, maybe mend a few tears he’d noticed in his clothes.  

After about an hour, his clothes were impeccable and he was convinced she would be free once he made his way back. Instead, he didn’t see her out in camp at all. He walked toward her tent, assuming she’d gone to rest after the exercise, but as he passed by Shadowheart’s tent on his way he’d heard a set of giggles from within. He stopped for a moment, unsure of what to do. Perhaps he’d just call for her, tell her she wouldn’t get out of practicing archery so easily. 

More giggles. 

Whatever they were doing in there, they were certainly having fun. His stomach twinged and he decided that it was because he was hungry. 

He walked back toward his tent and spotted three fresh bottles of blood. Erin must have filled them and brought them to his tent while he was at the lake, since he’d already drank everything she’d given him before. 

Stupid girl. 

After all the blood she’d lost from the hag cutting her up yesterday, what was she thinking? 

The unpleasant memory of her lying dead and drained beneath him only a few nights ago came unbidden as he stared at the bottles. Guilt soured his stomach and he looked away, walking toward the forest instead. Perhaps a hunt would be a good distraction. He never wanted to see her like that again. 

It was dark when he returned to camp, and he had clearly missed quite the guest, as the entire camp now smelled of sulfur. It seemed everyone had already retired to their tents for the night, but he could hear the light, intermittent pluck of strings coming from Erin’s tent. He cleared his throat as he approached and it was silent for a moment before he heard the soft plunk of the lute being set down and watched her stick her head out of the flap of her tent. His chest clenched at the sight of her swollen eyes and blotchy, wet cheeks. She’d been crying. 

“Oh, Astarion. It’s just you. I feel like I haven’t seen you all day,” she said as though she didn't look the way she did. 

She held the flap open and he crawled inside her tent and looked at her. Whatever this was about, he could at least allow her to tell him with a bit of privacy. 

“What happened?” he asked, brow furrowed in concern. "You were giggling when I left camp." 

She deflated, and it looked like she might burst into tears all over again. He moved closer and brushed the wetness from her cheek with his thumb, hoping to keep further tears at bay. He wasn't used to comforting someone, and hoped he was doing it right. 

“Tell me,” he said softly, then added, “it’s alright.” 

That was it. The dam had burst and she was crying again, breath stuttering as she tried to tell him what happened. Caught up in her emotions, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped, at a loss for what to say. Clenching and un-clenching his fists, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her in return, trying to will the stiffness out of his limbs. 

“It’s all my fault,” she sobbed. 

He seriously doubted that. 

There were a couple of dirty shirts lying nearby, so he took one and reached it out to her. Her nose had started running as tears streamed down her face. 

“Go ahead and wipe your face with that. I’ll wash it for you later.” 

She took it and wiped her tears, blowing her nose into it roughly when she was done. 

“Thanks,” she said, setting the ruined shirt down beside her. “I’m sorry. I feel so dumb for that. I thought I was done crying when I started trying to play that to distract myself.” she nodded toward the lute he’d gifted her.  

“Why don’t you tell me why you were crying and I could tell you whether it was dumb to do so or not?” he asked with a teasing tone he hoped would lighten her mood. 

“Um, well, I still don’t fully understand everything that happened, but I guess Wyll is a warlock?” 

Astarion had suspected as much when he noticed the Blade of Frontiers had more than just a blade at his disposal. The eldritch blast was a good indicator that he had a patron. That certainly explained the sulfuric smell left in camp from what was apparently a visit from the devil he’d made a pact with. Just like a righteous do-gooder to be completely full of shit. Hadn’t the hypocrite gone on and on about the dangers in trusting devils when he was trying to convince the group to help him kill Karlach? Typical. 

He simply made a small tsk of disapproval and Erin sniffed, nose still slightly runny. 

“So his boss, sorry, patron. His patron came to camp and uh, punished him for not killing Karlach. It was awful, I could feel some of it through the tadpole, and I don’t know how he’s still alive after what she did.” 

Astarion nodded. “From what I hear, devils aren’t known to be forgiving. If he’s still living, and not turned into some disgusting creature, it sounds like he got lucky.” 

He’d clearly said the wrong thing, because tears started spilling past her cheeks again. She covered her eyes as if to hide her crying from him, but Astarion just moved closer and reached for her dirty shirt to wipe her tears with a corner that hadn’t been soiled yet. She leaned into the touch, and before he could think of what to do next, she leaned further into him, hugging him tightly and pressing her head into his chest again. 

“I don’t think he’s disgusting, but she did something to change him. He’s got horns now, and it’s my fault.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “How on earth could it be your fault?” 

“I didn’t do anything to stop her from doing that to him, I could’ve- 

“No,” he cut her off. “You couldn’t have done a thing. I know the way things work here are unfamiliar to you, but a warlock pact isn’t some trifle. If Wyll went against something in the terms of his agreement with his patron, there is nothing you could have done. No one could have done anything.” 

She sniffled into his shoulder. “That’s what everybody said. Even after Wyll wanted to be alone, Gale told me that. But-” 

“But nothing. Much as I’m loathe to say it, Gale was right. Eugh.” 

She gave a soft laugh and smiled up at him. “You could be nicer to Gale. He’s your friend too, you know. He kept talking about how great it was to have friends to stretch with this morning.” 

“Ugh,” Astarion groaned. “I think he just meant you, darling.” 

“No, he said friends. Plural. You were included.” She teased. 

He was relieved to hear the slight shift in her mood and unthinkingly slid his arms around her waist to hold her where she leaned against him. “Well who needs more friends when I’ve got you right here?”  

“Oh, no, it’s too sad to only have me for a friend. I’m not nearly enough to satisfy anyone’s social needs.” She laughed into his chest. 

“I don’t know,” he teased, smirking down at her. “You’re quite the handful.” 

She chuckled softly before going quiet again.  

“I hope he’s okay.” She whispered. 

“He’s a grown man, dear. He’ll be fine.” 

“Pain doesn’t become any easier to deal with just because you’re grown. Some things hurt worse.” 

Astarion didn’t know what to say to that. He knew it was true, so he didn’t say anything at all. He just remained there, holding her in the quiet of her tent.  

After a few moments, he noticed her heartbeat slow into a steady rhythm and her breaths come deeper. She’d fallen asleep. 

So much for talking about yesterday. 

He started to adjust, getting ready to move her to her bedroll so he could leave. She stirred and gripped him tighter. 

“Stay,” she whispered, still mostly asleep. “Couldn’t sleep last night… please stay.” 

Ah. So she didn’t sleep last night either. 

It drove his thoughts back to yesterday and last night. He wondered if it was for the same reasons he couldn’t trance. He could feel her tongue on his lips all over again and then her hands in his hair as she told him he was perfect. 

Stop thinking about that while she's in your arms, you fool. 

She’d already fallen back asleep and he sighed, reaching over to grab the blanket from her bedroll. 

Gently lying her down and adjusting himself to lie beside her, he draped it over them both. He tucked her pillow beneath her head before lying his own on it and wrapping his arms around her.  

What am I doing? 

She’d asked him to stay. He was simply helping a friend. That was all this was. 

Snippet Sunday Tuesday?

Thank you for the tags, @roguishcat and @kalmiaphlox! I loved your WIPs!

I’m never on time, so here’s a little bit of Chapter 12 of Indelible Imprints now instead of Sunday lol.

Chapters 1-11 on AO3 and the pinned post on my blog!

WIP Wednesday!

Thank you @xxnashiraxx for tagging me (your WIP was so good - I'm so excited!) and everyone who has tagged me over the past Snippet Sunday and WIP Wednesday! I love getting to see all of your WIPs and I'm always excited to actually have something to share on the actual day lol.

Here is part of a WIP for chapter 13 of my bg3 isekai, Indelible Imprints! 💖

You can read chapters 1-12 on Ao3 or through the pinned post on my blog!

Tagging 💖: @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @ladyduellist @bhaalsdeepbat @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @sashitf @roguishcat @kalmiaphlox @chaoticbardlady99 @celaenamyers if you all have something to share! 💖

Indelible Imprints

Chapter 13

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary:

-Astarion is jealous and a lil angsty for half a second

-Astarion, Gale, and Erin do some stuff in the Blighted Village

-Erin agrees to let Astarion try feeding from her directly again

-Erin is confused (so is Astarion tbh)

-SPOILER: A tiny bit of smut. As a treat.

As always, comments & reblogs are very appreciated! If you like this chapter, PLEASE for the love of GOD tell me because I AM SO NERVOUS about it. Have pity on my poor soul. 😭 (It’s my first time posting smut).

Ao3

Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

Tag list: @roguishcat @thisisew @chaoticbardlady99

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

GORGEOUS COMMISSION DONE BY @bby-bel OF A SCENE FROM THIS CHAPTER AT THE BOTTOM!!!

Astarion

Astarion stared at the ceiling of his tent. After watching Erin and Shadowheart lying together for however long he’d stood in their doorway, there hadn’t been much else for him to do but go back to his own tent and brood. He couldn’t stand to look at them any longer anyway. 

This was stupid. What even was there to brood about? He’d been foolish to let himself get swept up in some fantasy simply because he’d spent one night in her tent with her. She’d been upset, in need of comfort, and he was just a warm body. Well. A body, at least. It could have been anyone. There was no reason to think that night had been anything more than that. Nothing had even happened. 

Maybe this was for the better. He had been so uncertain about his plans to seduce her, and with her freely giving him her blood and protection, there was really no need. The cleric was even the one who had been helping her draw blood for her little donations. He glanced at the bottles of blood Erin had left for him the other day, unopened in the corner of his tent. Shadowheart would probably agree to help her protect him, if she asked. Probably.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the pang of disappointment. Now he’d never get to replace the memories of when she’d put her mouth on his against her will with a moment where she was herself, and willing. 

Not just willing. Wanting. He realized with a sting in his chest that he wanted her to want him. To want to kiss him. To touch and hold him like she had last night, when she’d been too emotional to care about being embarrassed. He didn’t know why, but he did. He wanted her to seek comfort in him, just like she had in that moment. 

Now that she was with the cleric, she probably never would again.

Sitting up, he looked back at the blood jars. He should drink at least one of them. The animals he’d been feeding on the past few nights hadn’t filled him much, and he could feel an emptiness gnawing at his stomach. Still, something within him twisted even more than his hunger at the thought of taking any more of her blood from those bottles. They only reminded him of why she wouldn’t let him drink directly from her in the first place, and he didn’t want to think about that.

But then what was the point of all this, if she was giving him exactly what he wanted and he couldn’t bring himself to take it?

This is what you wanted. Why can’t you just drink it??

Lying back down against his bedroll, he tried to ignore his hunger. He’d just save the jars for an emergency. He didn’t want them yet. If he focused on that thought long enough, maybe he’d believe it.

***

Once everyone had finished breakfast the next morning, it was decided that some of the group would go on ahead to scout the goblin camp before they all went in together. The rest would stay behind to thoroughly loot the village for anything useful in the fight ahead. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart would go ahead, while Erin, Gale, and Astarion stayed behind. 

Astarion was relieved to see Erin agree readily to the split, with no attempts to keep the cleric close. It did make sense for Shadowheart to leave with the scouting group. She was the healer, after all, and they’d need her there more than they would at camp if the group ran into any trouble. Still, he watched them closely to see if they were disappointed to be separated. They didn’t seem affected at all. Had the night before not gone as well for them as he’d thought? They certainly weren’t acting like lovers who had just consummated their relationship. What had he seen last night, then?

He couldn’t help himself. Just as the scouting group had gotten out of earshot, he leaned toward Erin and spoke low in her ear.

“What? No goodbye kiss for your new lover?”

She jumped, clearly startled by his sudden appearance behind her. She was far too easy to sneak up on.

“Shit!” When she caught him smirking, she smacked his chest, but there was no real effort in it. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that. I’ll have a heart attack.”

He chuckled at her overreaction. “We can’t have that, can we?” 

Settling from the shock, she asked, “Sorry, what were you saying before I jumped out of my skin just now?”

“I was asking about your new lover. I thought the two of you might have been more inclined to stay together after your tryst last night.”

She looked confused. Her brows shot up, creasing her forehead when she asked, “My… what?”

His expression dropped. Was she purposely being obtuse? “Really, darling. It’s not as though the entire camp didn’t see you leaving the same place this morning for breakfast.”

Realization finally set in her eyes, but instead of blushing she made an annoyed snorting sound.“Oh my god. You’re just as bad as she is.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“About?” he prompted her, attempting to mask his frustration.

“Making assumptions about my sex life, apparently. Nothing like that happened last night.”

His heart lightened. “Oh? Did you want something to happen?” he asked, hoping she’d say no.

She rolled her eyes. “Again, you’re just as bad as she is. No. She’s my friend and I don’t see her that way. You guys act like we don’t have anything else to worry about,” she added, sounding a bit incredulous. “Sex has kind of been the last thing on my mind with these worms in our brains, and all.”

 “You poor thing,” he teased, grinning wide. “So repressed you can’t even distract yourself with the simplest of pleasures?”

A small offended noise escaped her mouth and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m not repressed,” she protested, “I’ve had plenty of se-“ she stopped herself and glared at him. “You know what? I’m not talking about this with you.”

He grinned even harder, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled so much. “Oh no, do go on!” 

She crossed her arms and turned, walking away from him. “I’m leaving. Bye.”

He chuckled to himself as he watched her go. The thought of her being with others wasn’t exactly his favorite, but he was in too good a mood to dwell on it. Besides, he liked seeing her flustered. The blush that spread to her face was adorable, and reminded him of the blood coursing underneath. 

She and Shadowheart didn’t have sex. He was more relieved than he should have been.

Erin

Erin was watching Gale stir ingredients into a pot, trying very hard to listen to him as he narrated the steps he took to brew the healing potion he was making. It turned out that one of the houses in the village had belonged to an apothecary, and most of their stores seemed untouched. Gale had been delighted, immediately noting they had enough to make potions to last them a while. Erin had asked him if a person needed magic to make potions, and when he said it wasn’t necessary, she asked him to teach her. Since she was the least capable of the group in a fight, she figured the least she could do was learn to make a few potions so she could help keep them stocked. Besides, she was more prone to injury than the others and it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra healing potion or two on hand so they wouldn’t have to worry about her.

She also needed a distraction. After her chat with Shadowheart last night, she couldn’t stop thinking about Astarion. She’d dreamt of him again, and she tried to convince herself it was only because Shadowheart had kept teasing her about her attachment to him. All the talk about sleeping with him just put it in her head. It wasn’t her fault that he ended up in her dreams. Again. 

But she couldn’t stop thinking about the things Shadowheart had said. Did he really look at her so differently than the others? Was it so obvious?

Of course he does, you let him drink your blood. Shadowheart even said it, he looks at you like he wants to devour you. You’re just a meal.

She blushed, embarrassed for letting Shadowheart get to her head. He was her friend. Just because he teased a bit didn’t mean there was anything else there. He’d even spent the night in her tent without anything happening. Surely someone as flirty as him would have actually made a move then, if he’d been interested. 

No, he was just being a good friend, comforting her while she was sad. Guilt tugged at her chest, convinced that she’d made him feel trapped into doing so, unintentional as that was. Being close to people didn’t seem like something he was actually comfortable with, but there she was, constantly forcing proximity. He didn’t seem to begrudge her for it though.

It wasn’t fair, that stupid hag had put all of this into her head. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him in ways she shouldn’t since that day in her den. They felt like nightmares at first, flashes of her licking his lips in her dreams in the aftermath. But, that night he held her in her arms, her dreams were softer, sweeter. Their hands were in each other’s hair as they sighed into each other’s mouths. Those dreams played out more like fantasies, and the way he touched her in them made her chest feel warm. It felt good. She tried to ignore it.

But then Shadowheart had to insist on talking about them like they were a couple last night, stoking the fires of Erin’s dreams no matter how much she denied them while awake. She’d had a genuinely nice time with Shadowheart that night, comforted to be close to a friend, but as she drifted into sleep, the arms holding her became his again and she didn’t mind it at all. 

When Shadowheart woke her this morning, she panicked for a second, as though she would somehow know what she’d been dreaming about and judge her harshly for the unbidden fantasies that came to her while she slept. 

Everybody has sex dreams. They don’t mean anything. Shadowheart was talking about sex last night so of course that’s what you dreamed about.

Astarion wasn’t helping. The way he’d lowered his voice when he spoke into her ear this morning had shocked her, and sent a spark of heat into her belly. And all to suggest she was sleeping with Shadowheart? If this was the way he teased her over things that didn’t even happen she was grateful he couldn’t see the things she dreamed about. She’d probably die.

“Erin, are you listening?”

“Hmm?” She looked up to see Gale watching her, waiting for an answer. “Oh, I’m sorry Gale. What was the question?”

“What ingredients do you need for this potion?”

“Oh, that’s easy, she answered. “Rogue’s morsel, which is the weird phallic-looking mushroom, and salt.” 

Gale blushed. “Ah, close, but no. Firstly, it’s salt of Rogue’s morsel, and second, you need to add it to a suspension.” He paused, turning a slightly deeper shade of red. “Um, and the mushroom you were describing was actually Bonecap. Rogue’s morsel has a cap that looks more like a pointed hat. It’s not as, ahem, phallic… as the Bonecap.”

“Ha!” Her eyes lit up. “Not subtle with naming your plants here, huh? BONE-cap?” she cackled. 

Gale rolled his eyes at her immaturity and gave her a lighthearted shove. “All right, that’s quite enough. At least until I have better knowledge of your own world to tease you with.”

“Ask me anything,” she gave him a mischievous grin. “We have mushrooms shaped like dicks over there, too.”

“Duly noted,” he chuckled.

“By the way,” she started. “Have you figured anything out with my phone yet?” She didn’t want to seem impatient, but she was hopeful that he might get it to work again soon.

“Ah, not quite yet,” he gave her a sympathetic smile. “Given that I’ve only got a couple of chances, I’m taking my time with finding a solution. As you said, I don’t want to just ‘shoot’ lightning at it.”

“Oh,” she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Still, she was grateful he was being careful. “No worries, Gale. Take your time.”

Astarion burst out of the apothecary’s house, excitedly hurrying to where they stood over their potion at the campfire.

“I found a secret cellar. Someone come with me so we can raid it for good wine and dirty secrets.” He said, downright giddy.

“What makes you think there are dirty secrets to find?” Erin asked him.

“Please. A hidden cellar is hidden for a reason. It’s probably positively depraved.”

“Let Erin go with you, then,” Gale said, winking at her. “After our little discussion, she’d probably love it.”

“Don’t be a Bonecap, Gale.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Astarion looked back and forth between the two of them. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

“You never tell me anything,” he scrunched his nose at her. “You’re no fun.”

***

The cellar turned out to not be particularly depraved, but it did seem to contain a few secrets. While Astarion raided the stores of wine and dug through various notes, Erin looked through the shelf of books and desk nearby. She found a key in a drawer and slipped it into her pocket, in case they found a locked door later. There was suddenly a ‘click’ and the sound of stone dragging. She looked up to see the wall ahead of her sliding open and called out to Astarion.

“Astarion? Was that you?”

He appeared out of the corner he’d been digging in. “Yes, I found a lever behind those crates, and what do you know? A secret cellar within the secret cellar.” he laughed that high-pitched, airy laugh that Erin was growing fond of.

“It’s cute, the way your fangs peek out like that when you laugh,” she blurted out before she could think better of it.

He stopped laughing, eyes widening just a little as he looked at her. He didn’t look unhappy, but she was a little sad to see his smile gone so quickly.

“Anyway…” Pivoting from the awkwardness she’d just created, she nodded to the room the hidden door had just revealed. “Shall we?”

He cleared his throat before answering, and his expression looked normal again as he gestured ahead of them. “After you, darling.”

Erin immediately noticed a small grate that looked like an old prison door and walked up to see what was inside. It was a small room, with nothing but a book sitting on a dusty stone table. She looked down at the padlock on the door and pulled out the key she’d found earlier, ready to unlock it.

“Before you do that, mind if I check for traps?” Astarion asked from behind her. “Something about it being the only locked door in this house makes me think we should err on the side of caution.”

“Oh,” Erin felt a little stupid. “Yeah, that makes sense. Go ahead.” 

He knelt down before her, inspecting the door and the floor below it. “Aha. Go ahead and step back a moment, darling. Just to be safe.”

She did as he said as he pulled his tools out of his back pocket. She tried not to watch his hands too closely as he worked.

“There we go,” he said after a moment, standing. “You can go ahead and use that key now.”

She slipped the key in the lock and opened the door. She looked down at the book. It was disgusting. The cover looked like it had been bound in the skin of someone’s face and she really hoped it was just a really gross, albeit detailed, leatherwork design. She tugged her sleeve down to cover her hand so she wouldn’t have to touch too much of it and pulled the book from the table. Sitting on the floor, she set it down and looked at it, wondering why it had been locked away and guarded with a trap. 

Astarion leaned in close, looking at the book over her shoulder.

“That looks terribly heavy. Why don’t you let me carry it for you?”

She smirked at how obvious he made it that he wanted the book. “Here,” she handed it to him. “It’s yours. A gift for finding that trap and saving my life… again.”

“Of course,” he took the book from her and slipped it in his bag. “I’m happy to save your life if it means I keep getting books and favors.”

“And not my company? I’m hurt.”

“Well that goes without saying.”

“Does it?” She looked at him, surprised.

He met her gaze and then looked away.

“Well I suppose it does now.”

His expression almost seemed shy, despite that being one of the last adjectives she’d use to describe him. 

*** 

After they’d cleared out what they could from the basement, Erin and Astarion walked back to put it all in the center of camp for organizing. After spending a bit of time going through it all, they decided to take a short break so Erin could eat and take care of the rest later. Gale had been taking inventory of everything, scribbling what they had and how much of it there was in a small book. He told Erin he’d write some recipes for a few basic potions that she could follow later in it as well as they ate. Astarion had gone to his tent, and she remembered she had found something she wanted to give him yesterday.

She excused herself from lunch with Gale and went back to where she and Shadowheart had slept last night. After finding her duffel bag, she reached in and dug around for the headband she’d found on one of the ogres they’d fought when they got to the village yesterday. Pulling it out, she gave it a quick look for any blemishes she could wipe clean. It looked alright. More than alright, it was extremely pretty. It was made of silver, with small branches sticking out and surrounding a cracked blue stone. The crack didn’t take away from its beauty, and after she’d cleaned it yesterday, she couldn’t help but think how nice it would look on Astarion. She hoped he would like it.

Approaching his tent with the headband in hand, she called his name. 

“Hey, Astarion? Can I come in for a second?”

There was a pause, and then he answered. “Sure, darling.”

She ducked under the flap and crawled inside his tent. He was sitting with a small chest in front of him. He picked the chest up and set it aside. She looked around, a little shocked at the mess inside. He had empty bottles everywhere, and rags stained with blood scattered around the floor. Instead of a bedroll, there was a wooden plank in the corner of the tent with a single dirty blanket that didn’t look big enough to even cover him comfortably. Her heart suddenly ached to think he was living like this. Why did he keep all of his nice things outside of his tent? Surely he could have brought a few of the pillows in here and at least thrown out some of the trash to make it a little cozier in here.

“Did you need something, dear?” he asked, sounding slightly anxious as she stared at the plank of wood on the floor.

“Oh, no,” she said, looking back to him. “I just wanted to give you this.” She handed him the headband she’d been holding. 

He took it, then squinted at her. “Why?”

She sighed. “Aren’t you the one who told me I should just take the gifts you’ve given me? I just thought you might like it.”

“You don’t want it?” 

“To be honest, I think it would look much nicer on you.”

He smirked, “Yes, well most things do.”

She rolled her eyes, ready to tease him for being so full of himself, but her eyes landed on the bottles of blood she’d given him, still full.

“Hey, isn’t that the blood I gave you? That was a few days ago, why didn’t you drink them? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, no, everything’s fine.”

“But, you said animal blood wasn’t enough? Is there something wrong with what I gave you?”

“No, nothing! I just… It’s a bit odd to drink it this way, honestly.”

“From a bottle?”

“Yes… I suppose it just feels a bit unnatural. I’ll drink it when I need to.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” She paused. “Do you want to try drinking from me again?”

“What?”

“From me. Like you did the first time. Well, hopefully not exactly like the first time.”

“You trust me enough to try it that way again?”

“Astarion, you’ve saved my life enough now that I can’t imagine not trusting you. I mean, you were starving the first time. I can understand how you ended up going overboard. But you’re not starving anymore. We can try again.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. Just… eat something beforehand. Probably best for you not to try this again on an empty stomach.”

“Of course, darling. I can go hunt now if you wont mind trying once I get back.”

“Sure. Just meet me in my tent when you’re back.”

Astarion

He stood outside her tent, almost unable to believe she’d invited him there. That she was allowing him to drink from her again. After what he’d done the first time, he was sure he’d never get to do it again. Now that he was about to, his fangs ached at the thought of sinking into her skin. As soon as she’d left his tent, he downed the bottles she’d given him as quickly as he could, wiping the drips that had spilled past his lips with a stray rag before he left to drain the first animal he could find. 

Now he was here, outside her tent, waiting for her to meet him. She’d gone off to grab a snack when he’d come back and met her by the campfire. When she came back, she had a banana in her hand and a book under her arm. She held the tent flap open for him and followed him inside.

“Good book?” he asked.

“It’s pretty fun, actually. Gale loaned it to me. ‘The True and Impossible Adventures of Tenebrux Morrow.’ She’s had some very interesting adventures so far.”

“Oh, yes, that’s a good one. She applies the word ‘true’ to her tales a bit liberally, though.”

“Don’t ruin the illusion for me. She was on her way to being my new hero.”

Astarion laughed and she smiled.

“Alright, so how do you want to do this?” she asked, setting the book and the banana down for later. 

He hesitated. “I… I want to try something, if you’ll let me. I think it might prepare the flow of your blood better and make the initial sting less painful for you.”

“I mean, if you’re worried about blood flow, I could always take a quick jog? Or do some jumping jacks.”

“Oh no, I believe this will be quicker, and a little less inconvenient for you.”

“If you say so. So what is it you want to try?”

“Would you allow me?”

“Um, sure. Should I move?”

“No, no. You’re perfect right where you are.”

He crawled to sit behind her, crossing his legs rather than spreading them around her and pulling her into his lap like he’d like to do. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled her closer, so he could access her neck. She was awkward and tense, clearly trying to avoid leaning against his chest or touching him in any way. 

Gods, but he wanted her to. He ignored the thought and carefully pulled her hair away from her neck as she tilted her head to the side for him, caressing her skin with the tips of his fingers under the guise of brushing the hairs away. As he watched the trail of goosebumps follow in the wake of his touch and heard her heart skip a beat, he couldn’t help but think how much he wanted to caress her skin with no pretense at all. He didn’t want to need a reason to touch her. He wanted to be able to do it simply for the fact that he wanted to. 

“So what now?” She asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Hm,” he started, unsure of how he’d explain it to her. “Well, it may be easier for me to just show you. You can stop me at any time, of course.”

She tilted her head further in assent, so he leaned forward and pulled her a little closer. His lips hovered above her neck, and he longed to drag his tongue up and down the length of her throat, just to hear the way it might make her gasp. Instead, he gently placed his mouth over the juncture between her neck and shoulder and gently started to suck the skin without biting, keeping his tongue respectfully still.

Her heart skipped another beat, and at the sound of her breath hitching, he sucked a little harder, willing his tongue to stay still against her skin. 

Suddenly, she pushed herself forward, breaking the contact. She whipped her head around to look at him and he tried to hide his disappointment when he asked, “Something wrong, darling?”

“That was your idea? Giving me a hickey?” She reached up to rub her fingers over where his mouth had just been and he noted the way they lingered over the small bruise instead of wiping away the moistness he’d left there. 

“Well,” he fidgeted with his hands a bit. “I thought it would be a quick way to warm the area up a bit and increase the blood flow…”

“You could have at least told me you planned on leaving a mark. I’d have had you do it to the side of my neck you’ve already bitten. How am I supposed to explain a random hickey if someone asked?”

“Why do you care?” he asked.

“People might get the wrong idea.”

“And what idea is that?”

“That we’re… you know what it would look like.”

“So what? What’s so bad about that?”

“Besides the fact that it isn’t true??”

“Would it be so horrible if it was?”

“What?”

He leaned closer. “Would it embarrass you so much? To have been with me?” He whispered, nose nearly touching hers.

“No, I,” she swallowed hard, and he could hear the way her heart was thundering in her chest now. She turned to look away from him and her eyes landed on something behind him and she squinted at it.

“Wait,” she said, and he watched her crawl toward the stack of clothes he’d left in her tent last night. She pulled the shirt lying on top into her hands and looked at him questioningly. “What’s this?”

“That would be a shirt. Blouse, if you prefer. A more general term might be garment.”

“No, I know what it is…” she tenderly brushed her fingers over the embroidery that had been added.

“Did you do this?” she asked him.

“Yes, well. I told you I’d wash it for you the other night.”

“And this?” she pointed to the embroidery.

“It’s nothing, really. You had holes that needed patching up. Really, darling, you’re terrible about picking at fabric. Don’t you dare pull on that embroidery.”

“Oh, I guess I am… I’ll take care of it… Thank you.”

“See that you do.”

There was a pause, and while she stared at his embroidery, he cleared his throat to break the silence.

She looked up from the shirt and met his gaze. “Oh, right,” she set the shirt down and moved to sit in front of him again. “Where were we?”

“You were chastising me for leaving an extra mark on your skin. Would you like me to try over the bite mark instead?”

“Yes, that would be better,” she breathed.

He held her gaze as she nodded, then dipped his head to the other side of her neck, pressing his tongue against his old bite mark and taking her skin in his mouth again. He sucked harder than before, and when a small gasp escaped her lips, he swirled his tongue around the tender flesh of her neck as he sucked, throwing aside the restraint from before. He groaned in spite of himself and leaned further into her, pushing her lower and caging her beneath him with his arms on either side of her. Hoping to hide behind his hunger, he pulled back to bare his teeth, preparing to bite, but she stopped him.

“Wait, Astarion.” she said. 

He was disappointed, but not surprised. Of course this was too much, something she didn’t want. Slowly, he lifted his head from her neck to meet her gaze, but she didn’t say anything. She reached out to touch his cheek and guided him closer, his face hovered above hers. She brought her other hand up to cup his cheek, thumbs brushing against his cheekbones, and looked at him in a way that made him shiver, despite the warmth of her hands. 

Everything went quiet, and all he could hear was her slow breaths as she looked into his eyes, her brows canted slightly upward, a cute little crease forming between them. She’d never looked at him like that before. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want this closeness to stop. So he lowered his face toward hers, searching for a sign that she didn’t want it to stop either as he brought his lips just above her own. Their noses brushed ever so slightly and they were so close that when her heart skipped a beat, it felt like his did too.

Suddenly, she brought her hands to the nape of his neck and pulled him down to her, closing the gap. Her lips were soft and warm against his as they pressed together slowly. 

She was kissing him and he was kissing her back and it felt so good. What had started soft and slow grew quickly heated and urgent, as she threaded her hands in his curls, pulling him impossibly closer and gently scraping his scalp and he nearly moaned at the sensation. He grabbed her waist, needing to touch her, and let his hands roam up and down her sides. 

He swept his tongue against her lower lip before pulling it into his mouth and gently nipping at it, careful not to cut her on his fangs. She let out a soft little “mm” and he gave her lip one last suck before slipping his tongue into her mouth. She let him in and circled her tongue over his in a way that made him want so much more. She was running her hands down his sides and as they settled on his lower back he brought his own up to cup her cheek.

He started leaving a wet trail of kisses from her mouth down her neck, and she gasped, but before he could go any further she pushed against his chest, stopping him. Her heart was racing and she was out of breath. He looked at her mouth, pink and shiny from their kissing, and wanted desperately to keep kissing her. 

Why did she stop?

Confused, he looked down at her and saw only shock in her expression. 

“Darling?” he asked, “Is everything alright?”

She pushed herself up but turned away from his face, as though she were suddenly unable to look at him. 

“Yes, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He didn’t understand what could have changed in such a short moment. Couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong.

“We should not have…” she paused, still looking anywhere but at him. “I shouldn’t have done that. We shouldn’t do this,” she said again, then voice trembling, “I’m sorry.”

He was too stunned to say anything as she got up to leave, so he watched her go and sat in her tent alone. 

Erin

What the fuck were you thinking?? That was so stupid. You’re so stupid.

She ran back to the room she and Shadowheart had shared the night before, hoping Astarion would eventually leave her tent on his own. She couldn’t think of what possessed her to kiss him like that. What was wrong with her?

And he kissed her back. Somehow that made it worse. 

What she’d said to Shadowheart the night before had been true. She couldn’t do this. Eventually, she was going to get home, and she couldn’t start something that she knew would only end. And she definitely didn’t want anything casual. With someone as beautiful as Astarion, that would only end up with her getting hurt. 

She liked Astarion. He was rude, but he was also funny and just fun to be around. He was the only one in their group of companions that she truly felt she could talk to. Besides maybe Shadowheart, but he’d shared far more about himself with her than she had so far. She could fight with him, because he’d fight back. He challenged her, and because of that she felt like she could be honest with him. He’d saved her life multiple times and she hasn’t known another person she’d been more grateful to have in her life. He never held what had happened with the hag against her, even though it would have been so easy. 

He was her friend. She didn’t want to fuck that up.

She brought her fingers up to her lips, and she could still feel his kisses there. She dragged her fingertips down where he’d left a trail of kissed along her neck and shivered.

He had kissed her back. 

***

Astarion had left her tent at some point while she was gone, and she was grateful she didn’t have to face him when she came back for dinner. She had a nice chat with Gale about the book he’d given her and he quizzed her on some of the more basic potion recipes he’d given her earlier that day. It was fairly quiet without the others back yet. After dinner, she said goodnight to Gale and went back to her tent to sleep. With only three of them in camp, it didn’t feel safe for her to spend her night too far away, so the bed was out of the question.

Unfortunately, being in the tent where she’d kissed Astarion only hours ago made it very difficult for her to stop thinking about that kiss. The way he’d been so careful with her, even when he nipped at her lips, sent a shiver through her body. And then the way he pushed his mouth harder into hers, as though he were hungry to kiss her, more than he was for her blood, grabbing her waist so firmly it made her ache inside.

She was becoming flustered all over again. 

It’s just because it’s been a while. You’re stressed and pent up. 

Closing her eyes, she reassured herself that that’s all this was. She just needed to do something to relieve the stress a bit. She told herself that maybe this would help her sleep. She pushed all thoughts about him out of her mind and repeated these things to herself over and over again as she slowly slid her hand beneath the waistband of her pants.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered to herself as she lightly scraped her nails against her underwear.

She tried eliciting something, a tingle, a shiver, anything. But her ministrations along with her repeated mantra was too clinical. She couldn’t do it like this.

Maybe she could drop the mantra to allow space in her head for something a little sexier…

White curls and pale skin came to mind.

No! Think of a celebrity or a character from a movie like a normal person!

She continued her touching while she tried to summon an adequate fantasy.

Why couldn’t she think of anything? It was like every man and woman she had ever found attractive had been wiped from her mind. Fine. She’d focus on the actions, the feelings, instead of the face.

She dragged the hand that wasn’t in her pants up, skimming past her stomach and up to her breast, pushing her shirt up and out of the way. Without a blanket covering her exposed skin she felt a chill, and suddenly imagined cool hands spreading across her body.

She dipped a finger into her folds and the coldness of it was a relief, finally sending a thrill through her as the nipple under her hand pebbled at the sensation. She sighed and slid the finger up and down to spread the slick that was growing with her arousal, undulating her hips slightly into the rhythm. she rocked into her hand until she ached so much she couldn’t stand it and dipped her finger deep inside.

It was at that moment she’d realized who the cold hands she’d been imagining belonged to, as an image of Astarion above her, his hands touching her bare skin, came rushing into her head. 

“Ughn,” she whined into her shoulder.

No! Not right now!

She closed her eyes, but that only made the image clearer. She felt the pressure rising inside her core and didn’t want to stop and lose that feeling.

Keeping her pace, she searched for something to replace him in her mind. Nothing would come. Frustrated, she whined, and when she did, an image of him smiling down at her, amused by her pathetic sounds came to mind.

Fuck it.

She stopped fighting the fantasy.

Astarion

He’d heard her whine from inside her tent.

It was the middle of the night and he could hear Gale snoring from his tent. She was alone tonight.

Worried, he came closer. When he was just outside of her tent, he heard her again. Not a whine. A moan. A muffled moan. 

He stood there dumbly as he realized what she was doing. Now that he was closer, it was obvious. He could hear her heart starting to race and the slick sounds of her fingers working.

Oh gods.

He heard her sigh and he felt an ache deep in his core.

He should not be here. He should go. Leave her to her own business. He could ignore the growing tightness in his pants, or take care of it in his tent, but he should go.

But then he heard it. The slightest whisper released into a sigh, barely perceptible, but he heard it.

“Astarion…”

He didn’t ignore the throb in his cock this time. He palmed himself and inhaled quietly, thankful that his lack of need for air gave him incredible breath control for involuntary responses like this. He crept behind her tent, fully out of view of the camp and softly lowered himself into the grass beside it.

“Ahhh,” she whined.

She sounded muffled and he imagined her moaning into her shoulder, bared and naked, as he loosened the ties of his trousers. He thought of her undressing, slipping out of her pants and pulling off her shirt before she touched herself. 

While she thought of him. He had to fight the moan that threatened to escape him at the idea that she was thinking of him while she fucked herself. 

Oh gods, he wanted to lick every inch of her skin. He wondered what her blood would taste like mixed with her sweat and slick as he freed himself from his pants. Taking himself in his hand and pumping slowly, he listened to the rhythm she set for herself and tried to match it. Closing his eyes, he leaned onto the ground and let his head roll back as he thrusted into his hand. 

Why was she doing this to him? If she wanted him like this, why did she stop their kiss? He could have done so much more to her than she could achieve with those little fingers. 

The thought of her hands slippery and wet from touching herself, wrapped around his cock as she kissed him soft and slow like she did earlier in her tent sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

He imagined skimming his fingers down her sides, making her shiver while she sat on his cock and he rolled her hips into her. 

She was working herself faster now and he could her her heartbeat speeding up in response. In the fantasy playing out in his head, she was riding him fast and hard, chasing her release as he felt every part of her he could touch and lick and kiss. 

Quickening his own pace to match hers, imagining it was him thrusting into her instead of her fingers, he felt himself getting closer. Then, she gasped, her breath stopping for a moment even while her fingers kept going. Just imagining the feeling of her walls clenching around him was enough to push him into his own climax. He forced himself to stay quiet, riding it out while he listened to her shuddering exhales in the aftermath of her own release. 

He wiped his hands on the grass beside him and lied there beside her tent, listening to her breathing. After a while, he heard the tell-tale sounds of her slow breath and steady heartbeat, letting him know she'd fallen asleep. Lying there a little while longer, he wondered if she looked flushed and pink in the aftermath while she slept, and wished she sleeping in his arms again. 

Why isn't she? he wondered, as he put himself together and got up to start walking, not quite ready to go back to his tent.

She could have been sleeping in his arms now. She could have kept kissing him earlier today in her tent, and he would have let her, kissing her back until both their lips were raw. He couldn't think of a time when kissing someone had felt so good. He didn't want it to stop.

But then it did. She did. He was sure he'd fucked things up somehow, replaying it all in his head, looking for where he went wrong. For a moment, sitting there in her tent, he'd wondered if he'd forced her into it, caging her beneath him and getting close like that.

It was her that closed the gap, though. She kissed him.

So why did she stop?

In that moment, he'd have kissed every inch of her skin if she'd have let him. Let him. He nearly laughed at the thought.

He'd spent so many years wishing for a day he'd never have to touch or be touched by another person again. Done so many things to bring others pleasure while he wallowed in disgust and self-loathing. And here he was, wanting to do so many of those things to her. She'd just brought him pleasure he didn't think he was capable of experiencing anymore and she didn't even know it. She hadn't even touched him to get him there.

What in the hells was wrong with him?

His aimless wandering brought him standing in the room where he'd found her lying with Shadowheart the night before. Although he knew now that they weren't romantically involved, his insides still twisted into knots as he thought about the closeness they'd shared. He wondered if she'd let him get that close to her again.

Sitting on the bed, he realized it still smelled like her. He crawled to the side where her scent was the strongest and laid down, pressing his face into the mattress. Staying like that, inhaling her, he let himself drift into sleep, hoping he'd dream of her.

Behold! The art I commissioned from the incredible @bby-bel of Astarion and Erin after their first kiss!! Behold it!!

Just a random, domestic scenario that I thought of about Astarion and it made me soft enough to put into writing.

Picture this …

Astarion, especially after everything that he’s been through with Cazador, definitely has to re-teach himself what it means to love without primarily focusing on physical intimacy. Everything that he’s ever known about loving someone, or rather, everything that he thought that he knew about loving someone is restricted solely to sex.

Of course, his understanding of love drastically changes when you waltz into his life. You with your words of affirmation, you with your soft hands, you with the hugs and kisses that don’t necessarily lead to something more. It strikes him as odd … why is it that you saw past his body and looked at him? Really, truly looked at him.

In the beginning, it scares him. It invokes a feeling in him that he wasn’t able to define, and in truth, it scared him. It scared him that every time your arms wrapped around him or every time your lips touched his, he felt warm. For a second, for one singular split second, Astarion felt alive.

And because of that, he pushed you away. It scared him even more when you actually let him.

“We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” you’d told him one night. You were sitting up beside him, his head resting beside your thigh while his eyes stared up at the flickering night sky. “I have no problem waiting for you.”

And wait for him you did. Never once did you pressure him into anything, never once did you make him feel as if your touch was anything but comforting — you didn’t want him to revert back to the mindset that he had become so accustomed to. When he reached for you, you did the same. And if he didn’t, you never grew angry with him.

For that, he was thankful.

All of your waiting comes to a head one night at the camp’s fire. As usual, you sit at Astarion’s side, both of you sitting in a comfortable silence. His fingers itch to hold yours, but he wills himself to stay completely still — even though he wants to hold and touch you, something in him roots him to his place, preventing it.

“Astarion?” He turns at the sound of your voice, blinking away the glazed look that had pained his eyes in favor of looking at you instead. Your eyebrows pinch together, creasing the space between your eyes. “Are you alright love?”

“Fine,” he answers, voice dead and cold. You hum, nodding your head, not prying any further. Even though he certainly doesn’t want to speak about what plagues his mind, a small part of him also wished that you would pry — likely because he knew that eventually, he would crack.

But you don’t. Because you understand the possibility that he would shut himself away further, retreating back to a place where you might not be able to reach him. “Alright, but if something is bothering you, you know that I am here for you.”

“That’s what … scares me,” Astarion whispers, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the camp’s fire. You turn your head to him, gaze catching his profile, silently waiting for him to continue. “Why do you stay … knowing that what you give isn’t reciprocated?”

His question catches you off guard. Was that what was bothering him? His inability to reciprocate the love that you so easily gave to him? Your heart sinks, eyes softening as you angle yourself to look at Astarion fully. The intensity of your gaze makes him feel as if you’re looking through him — through the flirtatious facade that he had put up constantly and seeing Astarion. Seeing ‘Little Star.’

Your silence worries him; makes him feel as if what he had asked you was wrong. Your lips are pressed into a firm, thin line with your eyes focused so intently on his own. Astarion feels as if you’re analyzing him … judging him. But you’re not, and he knows that you’re not.

“Because I don’t do the things that I do expecting it to be reciprocated,” you answer easily, allowing your lips to turn upward into a soft smile. A smile that begins to melt away the iceberg of worry nestled somewhere in Astarion’s chest. You inhale deeply, holding your hand up with your palm facing Astarion. “Here, if you’re okay with it, I want you to lay your palm against mine.”

Astarion’s eyes narrow, confused. His gaze flickers between your upheld palm and your eyes, which hold no ounce of malice or ill intent. Hesitantly, and very slowly, he lifts his palm. And slowly, very slowly, he brings it towards your own, laying it flat against yours.

Shockingly, the touch doesn’t burn. It doesn’t leave behind a searing scar that he would look at with distaste. Instead, it fills him with a comfortable warmth, one that reinforces the genuine love that you feel for him. The love that extends far beyond physical intimacy, far beyond sex — far beyond anything that Astarion had ever experienced.

“Something as small as this,” you say, not moving your palm from against Astarion’s, “is enough reciprocation for everything.”

He remains silent, watching you. You smile, and as if running on autopilot, he returns it.