#Astarion riding shotgun in a Tezzie

[scrapsovereign]

That One Time I Got Kidnapped By An Evil Vampire Lord Ch. 8

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57838303/chapters/150566218

Summary:

Astarion learns about Mackenzie's troubled past. Amanda has a surprise visitor at the clinic.

Pairings: past Ascended Astarion x Evil male!Tav, Ascended Astarion x Original Female Character

Trigger warnings/Tags:  Eldest daughter syndrome and parentification meets suspected breeding kink, violence against healthcare workers, bystander apathy, graphic depictions of violence

Downtown Seattle, Washington 

The Fairmont Olympic Hotel

Friday, August 25th

11:30 AM

Mackenzie had planned to bring the car around while Astarion was checking out of the hotel. 

“Had” been the key word, seeing as the old rust bucket was now gone.

She stares blankly at the empty space in front of her where her car had been, glancing at the parking ticket in her hand. 

Had Rob forgotten to lock the car? Maybe. Was there anything in there that was worth stealing? Absolutely not, unless the thieves fancied the half-full pack of Winco brand soda water in the trunk. Was her car itself worth stealing? The answer is a vehement no, but there’s something about not having a car payment when you’re living paycheck to paycheck that can’t be replaced.

She makes her way to the urine scented elevators, wracking her brain with how she was going to explain this to Astarion. The thought of recounting her misfortune to him made the breakfast they had eaten off each other’s bodies do somersaults in her stomach. Checking out early was her idea, after all. He’d asked her what she wanted to do with the rest of the day, and she decided on stopping at her favorite bakery and taking him to the beach she used to frequent as a child. 

Tempting as it was to stay in and be thoroughly debauched by him until the evening, maybe finding out now was a blessing in disguise. She couldn’t imagine how she would have felt if they had left this evening just in time for him to make his flight, only to find her car missing. Hell, they’d just barely left in time for check-out. 

A full body shiver ripples through Mac. Astarion nearly made her black out with how hard she came on the bed for him, covered in maple syrup. He’d then carried her to the bathroom and continued to ravish her as they bathed together. When they’d finally gotten dressed, Mackenzie initiated round three after finding the evidence and confirming he’d hand sewn the dress she wore yesterday evening (while watching Law and Order: SVU reruns). 

As she walks across the street back to the hotel, she’s surprised she has use of her legs at all. The magical concoction he had given her earlier had been incredible in restoring her to a state of health she could only remember feeling as a teen. Perhaps this was why she could keep up with that “appetite” of his as well? 

Speaking of the devil. Mac spots him handing an envelope over to the concierge as she walks into the lobby, turning around to face her direction. 

Good lord, he’s handsome. Mac almost pinches the back of her arm to remind herself he’s real. He’s wearing the same white linen and black lightweight woolen trousers (which Mackenzie is shocked they are as clean as they appear to be). The brightly colored go bag of Mac’s looks completely out of place, slung over his shoulders. So does her work purse in his hands. 

Mackenzie doesn’t fit his aesthetic at all. As such, she doesn’t know why he looks at her the way he does in the hotel lobby, like she’s the one who hung the stars in his sky. He looks like old money and she could be a Torrid ad from last fall with her linen skirt she thought was shorts, Star Trek T-shirt (cursive script that says “There’s Coffee in That Nebula”), jean jacket, and ugly tennis shoes. 

She fears that she’ll completely ruin his dreamy mood with what she has to say. Her shoulders tense and raise to counter the weight she feels crushing them as he glides over to kiss her, his perfect brow furrowing when she doesn’t return his affections with equal enthusiasm.

“Something the matter, darling?” Astarion inquires, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture so gentle it makes her want to burst into tears.

“Soooo, about my car. It’s gone. I think someone stole it,” she says with a trembling voice, bracing for the impact of his displeasure.

Astarion’s jaw twitches, forcing an exhale out of his nose.

“Bloody hells,” he huffs indignantly under his breath. He turns on his heels toward the front desk, ramping up to unleash a fury that she always dreads receiving from her patients. Mac’s grandfather always used to say you can catch more flies with honey, and in this town? A little kindness goes a long way.

“Wait-“ She catches the linen off his sleeve before he storms forth, “Let me do the talking. Trust me.”

Astarion pauses, his eyes flashing a dangerous red. “But of course. Anything for you.” 

Mackenzie smiles faintly in gratitude, taking his hand in hers to squeeze it. “Thank you,” she mumbles to him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. 

She cracks her wrists, calling upon her work persona to aid her before she approaches the front desk. 

“May I help you?” The well-dressed gentleman about her age asks smoothly, as if he’s said the same phrase hundreds of times. Mac squints as she clocks the name tag- “Jason Y”. 

“Hi! Hope your day is going well. Soooo, I have an unfortunate situation. I was parked in the garage across the street overnight and my car wasn’t there just now. I think it was stolen,” she says in a smooth, neutral voice, sliding the parking ticket between them.

Jason pets his beard as he considers Mackenzie’s words. “You look familiar…aren’t you Kenz from Ari the Mighty’s YouTube channel?” He asks, a wry smile spreading on his face.

Mac’s lips press into a tight smile. “Yep…that’s me.”

Jason leans in slightly, his dark eyes scanning the lobby around them as he brings out his phone. “So, his Twitter said this morning that he had his car stolen, and he ‘found’ it in the garage across the street earlier this morning before he went to PAX. Here, take a look.” 

Mac accepts the device to look at said tweets. Lo and behold, Jason isn’t kidding. It’s a selfie of Ari leaning out her driver’s side window with the parking attendant. Her stomach twists into knots as she hands back the phone. “That’s…yeah. That’s it. Jesus Christ.”

Jason continues. “Did you see he tagged the parking company for helping him out? All I have to say is, wow. Just wow. Fucking shameless.”

Mac’s blue eyes widen at Jason’s very candid comments. 

Jason clears his throat and adjusts his tie as he straightens up, setting his shoulders back. “So now he’s not just a dirtbag, he’s a car thief too? What a piece of shit. Don’t worry, I believe you. I’m sorry this is happening to you. I can’t forgive him for what he did to my little sister. I can only imagine what he’s put you through is worse.”

Jason cranes his head around a stunned Mac to smile reassuringly at Astarion, who watches them closely with a displeased and haughty demeanor. “But hopefully that’s all behind you now? Hell of an upgrade you got there. Please know that I mean this respectfully - would. Anyway. Let me see what I can do for you. I’ll be right back,” he excuses himself, disappearing behind a partition at the front.

Mackenzie turns around to give Astarion a thumbs up. 

Astarion quirks up a single eyebrow in response.

Jason returns with a sticky note, words scribbled on it in blue ink. “Manager says we can’t do anything, unfortunately, because of your car being off hotel property. However, concierge can always set you up with a rental, or a second and slightly less expensive option…”

“Which is?” Mackenzie asks, craning her head to see the information he has before him.

“Okay, so my Appa retired for the second time in March. We just convinced him to rent out the Tesla he bought, so he doesn’t go back for round three. His diabetes can’t take another round of the stress. If you’d like, I’ll give you the name of the app and his info. Usually it’s a $70 fee to bring to the hotel, but he can waive it for you,” Jason explains excitedly, handing Mac the sticky note. 

Mac takes the note to look at it, her mouth drawn in a line, leaning on the counter supporting her head with her elbow.

Mackenzie has very specific feelings about these cars, the company, their origins, and not all of them are happy. The people who drove them were about as bad as BMW SUV drivers. They had as much life in them as a toaster oven, and she didn’t trust the idea of a car that could drive itself if needed. Last but not least, when she’d seen the cars mentioned on the front page of Reddit, the news wasn’t all that good.

That being said, they’re about as ubiquitous in Seattle as her bucket of bolts used to be back in the day and they are fun to drive. Mac remembers Amanda had test driven a model X out of Issaquah earlier this year. She can still hear Amanda’s peal of laughter as they rocketed up Snoqualmie Pass at 100 mph, the g-forces nearly turning her stomach inside out.

But…technically if she’s helping someone…and none of the money goes directly to the car’s manufacturer…and she’s getting a discount…

She takes the sticky note from Jason, giving him a single nod. 

“I would like option two, please.”

West Seattle, Washington 

Friday, August 25th

12:30 PM

Getting used to the brakes and accelerator coming out of downtown and through the West Seattle Junction (to hit up the PCC and her favorite bakery) was a nightmare. However, as they cruise down California Ave, Mac thinks she’s finally got it under control. The car is, at least. Keeping Astarion’s hands off the dash display so she can drive the thing is another story. 

“Fascinating machine this is,” he mutters to himself, his eyes flitting about the screen, poking and prodding at the icons on the center console. It reminds Mackenzie of what a cat would do if it were stuck inside a room with a mirror ball.

“Hey…Astarion? Can you uhm…I don’t mind if you play with that when we’re parked, but I kinda need it to go back to the main screen while I’m driving,” she asks timidly, feeling proud of herself for speaking up. If Ari were in the car, she would have bitten her tongue and just let him poke and prod at whatever his heart desired to avoid a fight.

Astarion sighs, running his hands through his hair as he leans back in his seat. “I suppose I can leave it be, if I must.”

He crosses his ankle over his knee, his foot bouncing impatiently. “Remind me where you’re taking us?”

“Lincoln Park, by the Vashon Ferry Dock. There’s a nice stretch of beach that has a great view of the sound,” she says wistfully. “It’s not like the beaches in Britain or Nor Cal, but it’s different and the view’s gorgeous.”

Mackenzie rolls to a careful stop at the red light on Fauntleroy, the hand closest to Astarion taken into his own and raised to his lips. 

“The view is already gorgeous, my sweet,” he purrs against the back of her hand. Mac is so enchanted by him she doesn’t notice the light turning green. She gasps when Astarion peppers kisses up her arm, tracing a path of fire up the extremity that sets her core alight.

Their lips are about to touch when the brand-new, shiny Dodge Ram in back of them lays on the horn. Its bald, geriatric driver flashes its brights at them and leans out the window to holler, “Get a room, you dykes!” The truck speeds around them, nearly running over a clueless hipster couple and their goldendoodle while they try to cross the street.

“Well! That was certainly uncalled for!” Astarion complains, crossing his arms. “And he’s just moving along like he didn’t nearly damage our vehicle and murder those people over there! Where are the city’s guards?! Why isn’t he being arrested?”

Mackenzie’s so rattled by what just happened she doesn’t register his unusual choice of words. She waits to turn the corner after the couple makes it safely to their destination. “Don’t get me started on the SPD. One of ‘em actually mowed down a grad student in South Lake Union in January of this year and killed her. They don’t care.”

“Unbelievable,” Astarion tuts, looking out the window for a moment before resuming his questioning. “And what of the responsible parties? Surely someone has made an example of them?” 

She tips her head back and barks out an ugly laugh. “Hah! Oh. Oh no. I haven’t read the article in a while, but the SPD either suspended them with pay or they’re still working. It’s a mess.”

Mackenzie catches him licking his lips out of the corner of her eye, the motion reminding her of the events of this morning. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat as she feels a chill travel down her spine and straight to her core. Sneaking another look at him, she’s so enticed by the memory of his pink tongue between her legs that she almost misses the turn…and the one spot available in a completely full parking lot. 

She puts her hands on top of the steering wheel to steady herself, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Welp! This is the spot. Let’s get going,” she prompts, her hands fumbling around to find the right button to open the car door.

Mackenzie makes a clumsy, hasty exit from the car, nearly tripping over her own feet. She goes to open the storage compartment in the hood, frowning at what she finds there. “Did you take the extra towels from the room?”

“Darling, you were the one who suggested we go to the beach,” he reminds her with a chuckle, crowding her from behind. “I thought they’d come in handy in case we got…a little wet.” 

When Astarion utters an innuendo at her earlobe, it does more than just make her a little wet - she is fairly sure that the flimsy cotton panties she is wearing are completely ruined. 

She hastily collects their provisions, locking the car with the app on her phone. 

Mac takes the lead as they start down the path to the beach, the gravel crunching under their feet. The screams of children playing nearby pierce through the wood and startle her, setting a long-forgotten instinct on high alert that doesn’t go unnoticed by Astarion.

“Have you considered having children?” He inquires, the intensity behind his words clashing with how he sounds almost bored with his question. 

Mackenzie stops dead in her tracks. “No,” she replies, barely looking over her shoulder as she answers him. She turns to face the field, feeling as though she’s staring directly in the face of years of unspoken resentment. 

Astarion embraces her from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. “A simple no is always an appropriate answer, but I gather there’s a story, isn’t there?”

The re-usable bag she carries sags near the ground and Mac melts against him. “Do you want the short one or the long one?”

“I want whatever version of your tale that you have to tell,” he murmurs to her, giving her a brief, reassuring squeeze.

“It all started when I was a child,” she jokes, an imitation of the long-winded anecdotes her patients would launch into when she’d ask them the simple question of how long they’ve had symptoms for. 

Astarion doesn’t seem to understand her humor. Mac decides not to take it personally and moves on.

“But seriously, I raised my little brother when I was a child myself. He was only a few months old when he had his first seizure,” Mac explains with a far-away look in her eyes. “And when I was ten, he was diagnosed with autism. The pediatric neurologist teased it out when my parents thought his epilepsy symptoms were getting worse.”

Mackenzie turns around and leans her head against Astarion’s chest, taking in a deep breath to savor the citrus and herb notes of his cologne. “Both of my parents worked, and I did what I could to help. I was running the house by the time I was 13. I cooked, I cleaned, gave my brother his epilepsy meds...”

She swallows before she continues, hoping it clears the lump in her throat. “My mom used to say she was glad God gave me to her so I could help her, and my dad would tell me I was a better wife than my mom.”

“Eugh! I do hope you know those aren't normal things that one says to their child,” Astarion exclaims with a guttural noise of disgust.

Mac chuckles at his reaction. “Yeah, my therapist gagged when I told her the same thing. Oh well. They ended up shooting themselves in the foot in the end,” she sighs, pulling away from him to start down the well-traveled dirt path. 

“How so?” Astarion prompts, feeling her hand being taken in his to lead him to their destination. 

Astarion and Mackenzie reach a bench that overlooks the impossibly blue waters of Puget Sound, sparkling in the late summer sunlight.

“They kicked me out right before I turned 19, I got caught by the pastor kissing his daughter in the tech closet at Easter service,” she flushes, tightening her hand around his. “It was a pretty big deal. They’re the type of Christian that isn’t real tolerant of that kind of thing.”

“The pastor’s daughter? My, my…that’s rather naughty of you, but I cannot see how a simple kiss is worth evicting you from your home,” Astarion drawls with a hint of amusement in his voice that makes her shiver. “Did they at least hire a maid, a chef, and a nurse to replace you when you left?”

Mac shakes her head, huffing a weak laugh at the list of roles she used to fulfill. “I hadn’t been gone for a week when they called crying and begging for me to come back,” she starts down the path leading to the beach, walking hand in hand with Astarion, side by side. “I told them to take their apologies and shove it right up their family values.”

“Standing up to them must have been an impressive feat for you after years of childhood slave labor. Bravo, darling,” he congratulates her, pressing a quick kiss again to the top of her head.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit,” Mackenzie clarifies with a bashful smile. “It’s actually a variation on something Rob’s hippie parents said the night I showed up at his place. His mom’s a hoot. She made me a rainbow-colored cake for my birthday a week later that said ‘Happy Birth-Gay’ on it. All organic, non-GMO, free range ingredients, of course.” 

Mackenzie continues on with her tale as they journey down the hillside. “I stayed in the spare yurt at their commune for a while and moved out when I finally got my medical assistant associate’s. Those few years bumming around with them were some of my happiest memories.”

“Right before the pandemic, I reconnected with my family briefly. My little brother’s a fan of Ari’s and they wanted to meet up with the two of us. I cut them off again before we could settle on a time and a place,” she winces as they emerge from the shade, holding her hand aloft to shield her eyes from the offensive late summer sun. 

“Whatever for?” Astarion asks, as if he knows exactly where this was going. 

Mac’s eyes flicker over to him with a quick sideways glance. “They refused to get vaccinated. It all went downhill when I tried to explain why it’s important to me.” Mac didn’t want to elaborate further, the pain from her past still fresh. She focuses instead on the present moment- on the warm, soft hand belonging to Astarion as she leads him along the rocky beach.

“I suppose after practically raising yourself their absence isn’t a terrible loss, but it still hurts to get your hopes up, no?” He reflects at her with a soft, buttery rumble. 

Mackenzie swallows to clear the lump in her throat. “It did. Maybe when they reach out in another few years, I’ll have learned my lesson and ignore it. Ah-hah! Here we are,” she announces, motioning over a spot shaded by a structure made of driftwood. 

Mac ignores the amused smirk on Astarion’s beautiful face as he aids her in setting up their temporary shelter. She plops down on the large, luxurious bath towel they spread out, leaning her head on Astarion’s shoulder when he takes his place next to her. 

“Hey…I didn’t mean to go off like that. You asked me a simple question, and I ended up trauma dumping all over you,” she sighs as she stares out over the waves undulating towards them, placing her palm in his.

Astarion lifts her hand and brings it to his lips with a warm, genuine smile. “There’s nothing to forgive. I delight in every detail I can gather from you. If we could re-visit our earlier topic, would you ever consider it? It being having children, of course.”

“Only under certain conditions,” she brandishes a finger in front of her. “If I could afford it, if I had help, and if I was with someone who I could depend on. Right now? I have none of those things, so it’s out of the question.”

“And what if you did?” Astarion’s hand tightens around Mac’s with his inquiry.

Mac should feel uneasy with this tenacious pursuit of the subject, but she forgets her misgivings as her stomach growls and gnaws at her. She rummages through the bag, producing the massive caprese sandwich purchased from the bakery.

“I think I’d consider it. You hungry?”

Astarion’s answer to her is an odd, intense look in his eyes that Mackenzie’s never seen before, his lips tugging up to one side of his mouth in a toothy grin.

She feels a bead of sweat drip down her back as she realizes their picnic lunch isn't the only thing on the menu.

Downtown Seattle, Washington 

Mercy West Medical Group Primary Care Clinic

Thursday, August 24th

12:58 PM

Amanda flops over her keyboard with a whiny, petulant groan. Lunch is almost over. She hadn’t been out of meeting hell for 10 minutes and there’s already some shenanigans brewing in the lobby. Charlinda, the newly hired southern transplant working the front desk, messaged her moments ago to say that Prince Charming just walked in and took a wrong turn at the Mason-Dixon line (if he was looking for Disney World). She needed him to go on and git so the 1pm crowd could get checked in, but bless his heart, he can’t take no for an answer!

Amanda checks her drawers to scavenge for an energy bar or a piece of candy to fuel the impending confrontation and damn it all, they’ve all disappeared. Dr. Calloway’s likely to blame for this one. Amanda caught him raiding her desk for treats in the past when his lovely wife has put him on a diet…just like she did a week ago.

Amanda grabs her wallet. Maybe after she deals with his royal highness, she can hit up the food trucks two or three blocks away. 

Amanda feels her hunger turn to nausea as she steps out into the lobby, recognizing the mysterious man in armor.

Ari’s mouth falls open like a carp gasping for air as he stares back at her. Amanda’s never seen him dressed up like this before. He looks good. His appearance is a far cry from the bum she knows him to be. She hates to admit it, but for a fraction of a second she might understand what Mac saw in him. He’s the very image of a storybook prince: custom made plate armor in silver and gold, a battle worn blue velvet cloak, a longsword slung across his back.

The gaudy bouquet of blood-red roses he holds enhances the illusion, while the crumpled up envelope held in the other breaks it. He makes his way over to Amanda with a sideways smile, his wintry blue eyes sparkling with hope. 

“Hey Amanda! Kenz here today?” Ari greets her as if he had not just been nasty with her and threatened to un-alive himself less than a day ago.

“Nope,” Amanda answers simply, shaking her head. “Sorry, my dude, she’s not in.”

Ari’s fist tightens around the bouquet, snapping some stems off. An intentionally loud “SIR” that Charlinda projects across the lobby arrests the aggressive display.

“Yes you, mister knight. If you’re fixin’ to leave those for someone, I can make sure they’re in some water for the lovely lady you’re leaving them for,” she drawls with an accent sweet as honey, power-walking her petite frame over to him.

“Oh…uh, sure,” he assents in confusion, handing the bouquet over to the small woman’s outstretched arms. 

Charlinda gives Amanda a cheeky wink with the massive bouquet in her arms, returning to her workstation to check one more patient in.

Tears well up in Ari’s eyes as he turns to face Amanda. “Do you know where she is? I’m so worried about her, I don’t even know if she’s okay, I keep sending messages- “

Amanda finds she cannot tolerate his bullshit any longer. She’s reached a critical boiling point. After years of Ari mistreating one of the few friends she has, calling her clinic and disturbing her peace, and now this- impeding Amanda’s path to lunch?

Ari has found Amanda’s last nerve with remarkable accuracy and stomped all over it.

 “Look. You can’t walk in whenever you want and demand to see her. When she’s here, she’s working. She’s busy with patient care. And today, when she’s not here, you barge in and expect me to tell you what she’s up to?! No. She’s a grown-ass adult. If Mac doesn’t want to talk to you, I don’t know what to tell you other than you earned her silence. You did it to yourself,” Amanda rants, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“How dare you,” Ari snarls, opening his mouth to hurl more insults Amanda’s way. 

Amanda beats him to it. “No, nonono, how dare YOU. Walking into the clinic, causing a scene like this. You need to leave. This is your official verbal warning.”

“No, not while you’re keeping her away from me,” Ari refuses, his icy eyes narrowing in defiance.

“Ari, unless you have an appointment with the providers, you need to vacate the premises. Immediately. Before I call security.” Amanda dictates, lowering the pitch of her voice to assert dominance.

Ari laughs, an ugly, villainous sound that gives Amanda the shivers. “You have no power over me. Tell me where she is and I’ll consider sparing you from my wrath.”

“Your wrath? Please. For the last time- I don’t know. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Not over my dead body,” Amanda hisses, her hanger taking full control of her mouth.

“That can be arranged,” he announces coldly, reaching for the hilt of his blade strapped to his back.

Amanda doesn’t have time to flick her eyes to the ceiling in contempt of him, feeling a brief, excruciating pain of something sharp piercing her middle. She sinks to the ground, thinking it’s just a nasty hunger pang until she sees the very life spilling from her, coating the freshly washed carpets in her crimson. 

Her field of vision darkens, her eyes fight to stay open. She hears Ari’s armor clanking away from her, the thud of the clinic’s front doors, the shrill screeching of Charlinda calling out for help as she rushes to Amanda’s side. 

Amanda has enough energy to chuckle in irony at the last thing she sees before her sight fades to black: a lobby full of patients recording what could be her last living moments on their cell phones. 

What a Seattle way to go.