#so many tags goodness gracious! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

helloporcelain · 1 year ago

Text

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.

“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. I may have caused a bald spot.”

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.”

2K notes · View notes