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If she didn’t know any better, she would assume the lack of sunlight was making their prickly vampire companion extra poisonous. It had been two weeks since they entered the Shadowlands, and there was nary an encounter or event that Astarion would not comment on in disgust.
“Gods above - another body, twisted by some demonic curse, of course. So help me if I want something other than black sludge to feed on -” He murmured as his dagger cut through their latest ghoul encounter. “These Underdark friends could really use some more inspiration in their interpretation of demonic power, it is all becoming rather predictable.”
Aeryn chose to ignore this, concentrating instead on fending off some nine inch claws attempting to grasp off her face.
“Sweetheart, having an audience is doing you more harm than good. Concentrate more on the killing of demons, and less on the dramatics, please?”
Astarion scowls, red eyes flashing through the black blood smeared on his face, courtesy of his last kill. “As you wish, my darling.”
Darling. Dearest. Sweetheart. Ever since their party’s celebration after freeing the Grove, they had been throwing endearments at each other like barbs.
“I just want a little excitement, tonight.” He had mentioned to her, whilst being three quarters of the way through a bottle of wine. She played dumb, volleying back that she had not thought to pack her bag of dragon dice the day she was kidnapped by a Mindflayer ship, unsure he was implying that he was interested in her physically.
She had been so used to their almost flirting, the disdainful, honeyed compliments he lavished upon her sardonically - which she dodged and negated with increasingly stubborn deflection. There was no seriousness to it, no expectation that he wanted anything else but for everyone to understand that he didn’t care at all.
But his reaction had thrown her off guard.
“Oh come on - I’m talking about sex, my dear.” He had drawled. “But don’t worry, I am not interested in you at all. Best leave these games for the grown ups to play.”
He would have seen the surprise in her eyes, his words cutting through the balance of flippant back and forth. It was her mistake that she mistook verbal barbs for actual comraderie. She was not a good liar and sometimes, she was beginning to think, neither was he. But in that moment she felt herself lose the game. And everything was a game with him.
She didn’t care anymore. All she cared about was surrounding herself with more firepower - be it of human, spawn, tiefling - to destroy these tadpoles.
“If you really cared about anyone, precious, you’d stop subjecting us to your whining.” Aeryn scowled, finally pushing her blade through the last fiend, and using her foot to savagely push its body off. “I’ve had enough for today, we’re going back to the Inn for the night.”
Neither Astarion or Aeryn noticed Shadowheart and Gale exchange weary, knowing looks, as they all trudged back to their camp for the evening.
The Last Light Inn was a miracle in itself. A sanctuary, protected by a healer who resembled an angel, inhabited by a band of people who willingly threw their lives on their blades every day in the hope of ridding the land of a cursed enchantment.
It was enough to make Astarion ill.
Still, there was something to be said about proper beds and not the heavy canvas bedrolls that had punctuated his life of late. Aeryn was a lot of things, but she was also the unlikely leader of the rag-tag troops who had bullied the innkeeper to give each companion their own private quarters.
She was a mix of frustrations indeed, he thought, as she drew her armour plate over her shoulders and dropped it ungracefully on the ground. Even soaked with sweat and streaked with dirt, it was hard not to admire her actual build so often hidden beneath her battle gear. She was slender, muscular from a lifetime of wielding armour, swords and magic - but she also was absurdly well-endowed. She seemed not to notice, but for all the plain shirts she preferred to wear, it only accentuated how much nature had blessed her there.
Once, he had thought about how it might feel to untie her hair of its bonds, and watch the strands fall across her shoulders. But she had made it very clear that she had no interest in him physically whatsoever, and he had been a fool to broach the subject with her.
No matter. He always did best when he kept to himself.
Aeryn caught his eyes and scowled, and he pasted a smirk on his face. So easy to do, after centuries of pretend.
“Now now, armour is removed in personal rooms, not in my clean kitchen.” Wyll said sternly, placing a plate of roasted vegetables in the table. “And you can wipe that smirk off your face, Astarion, we have enough problems to deal with, we don’t need to deal with your sass today.”
“You wound me,” Astarion parried, hand over his heart. “If it’s all the same, I will deprive you all of my presence. Thank you for your services, Mother.” The last words were aimed at Wyll, who rolled his eyes dramatically, and as he got up to leave, Aeryn stood up too.
“As someone who needs to get changed, I’ll unfortunately have to drop my gear off in my room too.” Astarion mock-bowed, and allowed her to stalk off first, armour clinking and clanging loudly as she took fast steps to put space between them.
Oh? She was running away from him? He realised with great interest.
Well, the night was young anyway. Perhaps he wouldn't write today off as a complete failure.
He was following her. Did he have to follow her?
“You know very well that our rooms are next to each other, I do have to go the same way.” He said extremely cheerfully.
She scowled, heaving her armour up higher on her shoulder.
“Aren't you an immortal being who supposedly lured multiple mortals to their deaths? How exactly did you manage to do that? You’re so bloody annoying!”
He beamed at her, somehow radiating even more delight at her words. Aeryn met his gaze with reluctance, taking in his handsome face, his lips so suited to the smirk they were in and wished that he were not so attractive.
“My dear, perhaps your tastes are just not adult or refined enough to appreciate this vintage -”
He cut off midsentence when Aeryn forced a laugh at him.
“You’re out of practise, vampire. Of course you’re stuck up enough to refer to yourself as a vintage. I cannot believe I was ever attracted -”
Later, Aeryn would reason, she was just extremely tired and overwhelmed by the swirling mists of death and decay that had become the backdrop to every day. There was always something grotesque round the corner, something ready to rip her face off.
And she had tried her best to not to be aware of this little leering vampire in her camp, who was leaning forward in predatory interest.
“Attracted, you say?” He smiled, all fangs and malice. “Attracted to - what, may I inquire?”
She looked at him for mercy, and he smiled even wider, one canine poking his lower lip in an upsettingly adorable way.
“A-Astarion, please.” She broke eye contact first, glancing away in defeat. “Not tonight. Never mind.”
She attempted to stride quickly away, but his cool hand closed around her arm to stop her.
“Attracted to me, Aeryn?” He murmured, voice lilting but surprisingly lacking in pretentiousness.
She brought her hand up, touching his slightly - to what, express the affection for him she had tried to smother? To push his hand away?
“Aeryn, please. It’s been too long since I’ve heard a compliment. I thought this cursed sunlight had withered my good looks.”
His words were mocking, but his tone remained serious, his red eyes creased in a question. He truly didn’t know.
Aeryn bit her tongue, then closed her fingers around a single digit of his.
“Of course I am.”
He didn’t move for a moment, but his red eyes flickered over her face, and where she was holding him as if he were poisonous. He stepped forward purposefully, and the serious look on his face remained as he brought his other hand up to brush the strands of her hair framing her face.
“Good.” He said matter of factly, and kissed her.
Astarion’s lips were soft, cool, and very eager. She had stared at them for a million minutes, maybe hours, watched as they had mocked her, mocked their companions, and after what felt like months, mocked their enemies, and she had always wondered how they would feel against her own. He kissed her with skill and fervour, running his hand up through the side of her face and hair, taking control of their kiss and exploring her mouth with his tongue as if he were drinking her.
Well, not exactly how he had drunk of her in the past. Aeryn felt her body grow warm when she remembered him drinking her blood weeks ago, tasting human blood for the first time, pressed up against her body in a way she had had little experience of before.
He smelt the same - of paper and wine, him surprisingly being a even more prolific reader than Gale was, and of expensive spices. And something else.
“I can feel you thinking,” he murmured, breaking off the kiss, “Please tell me you want this. Or I will stop.”
It was just like him to ask for permission, she thought, slightly dazed from his efforts. As the seconds passed, he cleared his throat and looked almost worried, as if she were going to ask him to stop.
Aeryn reached out, and grasped his hand properly.
“I don’t want to stop,” she whispered fiercely. “I didn’t say that you could.”
A beat, those red eyes crinkling again in relief at her, with a touch of amusement.
“As you command, my darling.”
He followed her into her room, her doorway being 10 steps closer to his. He expertly guides her backwards while still kissing her mouth, her neck, the lobe of her ear, his strong hands supporting her waist as if he were leading her in a dance.
It was a dance, she supposed, and a dance that he must have initiated a thousand times before. She felt as if she were a puppet, her body reacting and moving in ways she had not experienced before. Oh, she was no virgin, but nor had she been played by a master like this.
She reached the edge of her bed - a real, actual bed - and he cupped his hands beneath her face to give her a moment of reprieve. Red eyes searching for face for acceptance, he found it when she smiled weakly, her wide gaze a little uncertain in what would happen next. It’s been a long time since they drank each other in, Aeryn’s long hair tumbling across her shoulders and his artfully handsome features, no longer just a source of aggravation for her.
“Relax, my dear. This night will be for both of us.”
Astarion sat on the bed beside her, his gaze drinking in her personal effects - a stuffed Owlbear she had taken a liking too, some flowers she had stuffed in an empty wine bottle, her pyjamas folded neatly on a chest. There was some attempt at normalcy here, and he would give to her a night of play and affection, in this strange slice of safety the inn offered to them.
He resumes touching her, drawing up his hands up her arm in exploration, as he bent his lips to her neck again. He kept coming back to the hollow of her neck and shoulders, sucking gently, running his teeth softly over her skin.
It was torturous.
Boldly, Aeryn reached out and grasped for the bottom of his linen shirt. He chuckled in appreciation, shifting so to make it easier for her hands to pull his shirt up, and sighing a little in response to her fingers trailing across his porcelain skin.
Gods, her fingers felt so warm against him.
“I’ve never seen you talk so little,” She said hoarsely as he sucked a little harder on her shoulder - for that he gave her a little warning nip, ignoring her words in favour of exploring her left shoulder.
“If I had known this would have shut you up, I would’ve stripped much earlier,” she shot back, and this time his head popped back up in mock indignation.
“Darling, if you’re still able to talk so much, I’m really not doing my job properly.”
He grinned at her, and in retaliation, pulled up the hem of her shirt, cradling her bare waist in his hands. It felt wonderful. Pulling her back to him, his fingers wrote patterns across her ribcage, her stomach, and Gods - right under her breasts, his touch teasing her bra.
“You have no idea how I’ve longed to see them,” He whispered, voice gone hoarse. “How completely ridiculous how large they are. It’s not just me, you know,” and he drew a circle around her left tit, making her gasp, “I’ve seen how the others try not to look at you. But I’m the first one to do this.”
Astarion palms her breast in its entirety, and squeezes, and they both groan at the sensation.
“So soft,” he praises, fingertip tracing her nipple, “So much softer than I thought they would be.”
She’s done. She yanks her shirt off and throws it on the ground in, and slides on his lap, pushing him back.
He grins up at her victoriously, looking at his newest victim straddling his lap. One hand comes to her hip, and he pushes up experimentally, his hardness against her softness, and it feels good.
The bra has to go, though.
“How I’ve imagined having these pretty tits bounce in my face,” He coos, throwing the offending undergarment to the floor and she moans, chest heaving with her heavy breathing. “I must have done at least one or two good things in my life to deserve this.”
Astarion leans forwards and draws a pink, perfect nipple into his mouth and sucks.
She keens, shuddering as the sensations rush through her. Her thoughts are vapid, incoherant as he lavishes her with his tongue, his finger and thumb, his lips pinching and putting pressure on one and then the other, his palms squeezing and ravaging the other breast.
She can’t think, and he knows.
“Astarion,” she mumbles incoherently, and he is ready. He rids her of her pants, rids himself of his shirt, and pushes her onto her bed, following suit and pulling her body to his.
She’s completely naked now, and he isn’t. Somehow it feels even more illicit, and she closes her eyes as he bends down to kiss her again. It feels oddly sweet and reverent, in comparison to the touch of his hand gliding down the expanse of her skin.
“So beautiful,” He murmurs, drawing the curves of her hip, her ass cheek, the curve of her jaw.
“No, you’re beautiful,” she shoots back, hesitatingly touching the edge of his jaw. His eyes widen slightly, then soften as she reaches to his his hair, feeling the locks of his wavy grey hair for the first time.
“I’m glad you like what you see.”
He’s slow, and achingly gentle now, eyes burning through those long grey lashes when all Aeryn wants is to pull him inside of her. She whimpers when he reaches the curls of her nethers, and pulls back.
He’s teasing her now, the bastard.
“Astarion, please.”
“Please what, my darling?”
She’ll get him for this later. “Please touch me, you bastard.”
There it was again, that blinding smile.
“Far from it for me to deny such a pretty little thing.” And he finally does it, a finger firmly brushing her center. Once, twice, ten times, it easily strokes against her wetness and feels so good, it makes her hips buck up mindlessly in pleasure.
He purrs into her neck, his finger dipping deeper, deeper until inside of her, letting her crest on the waves of arousal. Astarion groans and laughs lowly, pushing a second finger into her, whispering filthy words of approval into her ear.
“Good girl, your little cunt taking me in so eagerly. Shall I show you what else we can do? Shall we explore how much better I can make you feel?”
He pumps his fingers, and she covers her mouth to smother a scream. He yanks off his pants now, urgency colouring his actions, and slides his second hand under her ass. She sees him for the first time, magnificent and erect, cock tip glistening with precum, his face looking truly wild for the first time, and she grasps him in her hand, feeling the balance of control slide in her favour for once as he lets out a guttural moan.
“I need you.” He says abruptly, batting her hand away. He rolls on top of her, bodies folding together for the first time, and he draws her legs to cradle around his waist.
Astarion positions himself at her entrance, and she feels him enter slowly, pushing past her slick entrance. It feels full, so much thicker than his two fingers, and she gasps as his thick heat slides easily into her.
It feels like nothing she's ever experienced before. She's had suitors, tussles and tumbles, but they had all been young boys compared to this master. She's never been with someone quite so beautiful, face perfectly chiselled as if her were a hero - antihero - from a fairytale, someone who was currently staring down at her in astonishment and ecstacy. She feels branded, his fullness stroking places inside her that she had never explored before.
“You're so tight.” He groans in disbelief, hips guttering automatically. “You're so goddamn tight.”
Astarion begins to move in earnest, fascinated by the way his thrusts ripple through her entire body. Her tits bounce obscenely and she writhes like a snake beneath him, her cries of pleasure inciting him to fuck her harder. There was nothing left but the feeling of him inside her, the pooling heat and rippling ecstasy coursing through her body from his ravaging of her body.
The sounds they make are filthy, the slap of his pelvis against hers drum out a rhythm older than time. He moans as he holds her hips, his grip tightening as he pushes deeper and faster until the only word she can say is yes, and it’s all he can do to not come and finish right there.
“Not yet, darling.” He growls, pulling out to a mewl of protest. He gentle rotates her body so she lies on her stomach, and he caresses her shoulders, hips and her buttocks, before sliding his fingers again through her cheeks to her molten heat. She’s so soft, all pink and soft curves, and he is not sure if he’s ever touched a creature so delicate before.
Aeryn hisses as he drives a finger into her cunt, and then moans when he rubs her clit as if in apology. She’s ready for him again, she raises herself on her elbows and is rewarded with him ramming his cock back into her, both of them crying at at how good it feels to be sliding together again.
He watches, heavy-lidded, as her whole body bounces off his thrusts, and he reaches with one hand to grasp a tit, and the other to play with her swollen lips. It’s too much, he ruts against her like the animal he is and the feeling of her trembling and arching her back on him is almost enough to tip her over the edge.
“Fuck me harder,” she begs, and he complies, nothing mattering more than the joining of their two bodies and the pure exhilaration they are pulling from each other.
“Please, Astarion, please-” She’s not sure what she’s begging for but she begs all the same, every single coherant thought in her brain replaced by the need for mutual release.
“You’re such a good girl,” he grinds out, “You’re so receptive. I want to make you sing, I want to hear you sing again.”
She responds to his words in mere gasps now and he can feel that she is close. It’s too much. He slams into her now, his thoughts just as destroyed as hers. Every thrust pulls out a desperate gasp from her pink mouth and he feels her shatter on his cock, her inner walls fluttering and squeezing him around him in reckless abandon. Aeryn cries out, a soft, sharp desperate cry of relief and he finally spills inside her, a mind-numbing, toe curling orgasm of the like of which he hadn’t felt in years.
“My good little Paladin girl,” he murmurs against her neck, kissing the flushed bare skin, “Who would have thought you would make such a sweet companion?”
She grunts something in response, and he kisses her lips softly. “Get some rest, darling. We have some unfinished business to attend to in the morning.”
Downstairs, Wyll continued serving dinner as if there were no one to be waiting on. Not one of them had expected the two to make an appearance again that night.