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The music of the river played the weary sun into its rest, and as it sunk behind the bank, you sat beside your tent, sharpening your blades. You had been using the last of your energy rations dragging the stone along the edges of your sword, ensuring perfect balance as to not slip. You felt strangely insecure doing this, since you’d stubbornly turned down Lae’zel’s offer to sharpen them for you when she’d spotted you doing it… kind of wrong. Your arms, back, core, and pelvis all worked together, groaning under the force. You were grateful, though, to be finally resting your feet, and as you sat on the grass, the muscles slowly unfolded themselves from their tight contraction like a flower at sunrise. You didn’t even notice you were frowning with concentration until Astarion sauntered over.
“You look tense, my dear. Try relaxing your eyebrows, the wrinkles obscure that pretty face of yours.” he observed, standing arm’s length away from you, cocking his head to the side, gently taunting.
“I’m trying not to cut myself” you replied, your tone matter of fact and short. Your desire to constantly be around him and steal his attention battled with your reluctance to engage with the vampire.
You allowed the silence following your shortness hang in the air, no matter how hard you wanted to break it. You fought the urge to give him the whites of your eyes. You kept them following the drone of the sword-stone; up, down, up, down.
Your blouse still held the blood from this morning, like a sick memory. You recalled how you’d spilled it from the throat of a stranger that stood at a height similar to yours. The woman bore a strange resemblance to you, but had black hair and skin so pale, so lacking in the pinkness of your own skin, that you wondered if her veins were empty. You had learned as soon as the creature lunged for you, fear and ferocity in her obsidian eyes, that they weren’t. Blood doesn’t trickle from slashed throats, it spits.
Your malevolence had engulfed you in that moment, paralysing you. It wasn’t noticing her appearance, or your similarities, that caused your mind to leave your body for a few moments, it was that you realised you didn’t remember the appearances of many others you killed. You had told yourself all along that they were all in defence, all for justice, but who are you to decide? Your dead all blurred together in your mind like a wet painting of flesh and blood. That paralysis would cost you- moments later, in fact. In the absence of focus, you crashed back into reality at the sensation of a blade driving into your side.
You were not sure whether it was the panic or the pain, but you felt your legs betray you seconds later, and the grass pricked at the sides of your face. Your eyes couldn’t grip one thing, everything faded. Except for Astarion. Your lulling heart picked up again in relief and desperation. You were safe. You captured him with your eyes. You pleaded with them. He scanned you, quickly.
Then he averted his eyes.
You had failed to interpret his expression, in your daze. All you felt was his rejection. His carelessness. There his companion lay, bleeding, and he turned away. He continued fighting as if you were already gone.
Shadowheart and Gale had come to your aid eventually, before the fight was over. They defended you and stopped the bleeding once everything went quiet again. Despite his betrayal, you had searched the mass of bodies, cold and warm, for Astarion. You were sure you saw him one last time before you fainted, standing in the distance, head lowered.
“You fought well” Astarion said, and it pulled you back out of the memory, back to the present.
You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him now, and you caught his expression right before he adjusted it. Sometimes, before he fixed his mask, his eyes looked large like moons alone in the sky, his eyebrows furrowed. In the moments where you sensed his pain, any guards around your heart crumbled.
He tightened the muscles around his mouth and eyes when you looked at him.
“I did… until a huge blade found its way into my side” you sneered, gesturing at your waist where, underneath, your wound was throbbing, but already beginning to heal after being treated and stitched with Gale’s healing magic.
“You left your right side exposed-” he spoke.
“I know.” you cut him off, standing up, wincing at the pain.
He sighed.
“Why were you standing there idle? Was it the worm?” he demanded, stepping towards you.
You tried to angle yourself away from him, but he moved his body in front of yours.
“I really don’t need your critique” you retorted, avoiding his question.
“You can’t leave yourself open to attack like that.” he pushed, regardless.
“Why do you care anyway?”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed in response.
“Why do I care...” he repeated. His exasperation aroused your anger, even though you knew it was a pointless question. You knew, somewhere in his still heart, he cared. It mattered little now, though, you were almost entirely sure.
“You left me there!” you argued, your voice raised.
“You weren’t going to die…”
“That’s hardly the point..” you snapped again, feeling your eyes stinging and cheeks flushing. You composed yourself and continued,
“I really don’t want to have this conversation”.
Keeping your eyes to the ground, you turned at a slight angle to step around his side. The humiliation burned in your throat like liquor. Just get away from him.
You stepped. Then, you felt a gentle but firm grasp on your upper arm.
“Don’t walk away from me.”
His voice was low, and firm. It crept into the air, with menacing poise. His gentle threat made you shiver.
“I’m asking nicely. I won’t ask like that again.”
You submitted, easily.
You stepped back, and looked up at him. He let his hand loosen, and purposefully grazed the skin on your arm as it dropped to his side. At least, you were sure it was on purpose. Every move from him was calculated.
“We don't have to get into a fight about this, darling”.
His voice had now returned to its sultry, coaxing tone. Although, you detected a hint of desperation.
“I just don't understand why you turned your back on me. I thought we were at least friends.” you explained, keeping your voice level and face calm. You knew outbursts of emotion would push him farther away.
“We are friends, my dear…” he replied, returning to his usual pompous posture and feline grin.
“… I just didn't quite have time to come to your aid, what with the multiple swords at my neck. I know you could hardly cope with one but I thought I'd better focus on three, or four, or five. Regardless, you had your wizard lover at your side.” He scrunched his nose in disgust- the way he always did- with that last sentence. The grimace revealed his fangs, and they glinted in the scarce light.
So that's what this is about.
“Ah, so should I expect to be abandoned in battle by my friend every time I sleep with someone that isn't you?” you mocked.
His face toughened and he straightened his shoulders, defensively.
“That's not what this is about.”
Oh, it is, you responded, only for your mind to hear.
“It's not?” you asked.
“It's not.”
“What, then?” you pressed, crossing your arms. As his smug composure faded, yours reappeared. You both battled for power every time you spoke.
He stepped backwards with a pained expression, then sighed again.
“Your lousy sword wielding..” he began,
“I would’ve thought with two blades, you could take on one creature”.
He cocked his head to the side, smirking.
Couldn't you just hit him? you asked the imaginary friends in your head.
“I don't need this” you muttered, turning away.
Your face flushed with frustration. If he didn't want to be honest, you were done with the conversation. He could go and pick on someone else. Someone who didn't care about him, at all. A silence ensued when your feet turned. You heard his foot pad forward on the wet grass.
“Wait. Its... I couldn't watch you hurt.”
You paused. You lifted your head, slowly turning back around to meet his gaze again. The last light danced between both of your eyes.
“You didn't need to watch me. You needed to help me.” you challenged, immediately regretting your use of the word ‘need’. Why couldn't you have feigned nonchalance a little longer?
He allowed a few fretful breaths escape his lips as he collected his thoughts. This was hard for him. Your anger faded watching his expression almost wilt. His eyes grew so large and misty when he looked at you, it was impossible to be strong in his gaze. He inhaled, and quickly sighed, the way he always did when he was about to force words out that he’d rather conceal.
“Seeing you like that… bleeding, afraid… my mind didn't quite know what to make of it. I've felt nothing but my own pain and loneliness for two-hundred years. Nothing but thirst and desperation and degradation. I felt only my own despair for so long that it’s just… numbness now. Living in your own mind for that long- I didn't think I’d ever escape. Feeling someone else’s pain, though, that's… new. Not entirely new, I just haven't felt it in a while. Oh, you know what I mean. It was like I froze- I couldn't come to you even though I wanted to… so badly. I'm… I’m-”
He trailed off at the end, shuffling slightly and looking towards the floor. Eye contact with you in that moment stung, so he avoided it.
“The words you’re looking for are I’m sorry” you responded with playful condescension. You’d already forgiven him anyway.
“I am truly sorry. Will that do? Is that enough?” he said, his apology through gritted teeth, resorting to his usual attitude and brattish tensing and shuffling.
You smiled. He tried to hide a smile of relief in turn.
“I thought you didn't care” you said after a while, stepping towards him,
“I thought you were… disappointed.”
As soon as the words left your lips, he moved in closer and clasped your hand.
“No. No… I could never be disappointed in you. You're all but disappointing. You're so strong. Stronger than I gave you credit for. And you're… well… you're beautiful.”
He paused for a moment.
“I'm sure you know that. Beautiful people like us always recognise each other.” he finished, touching your cheek with his thumb at that last half-serious, half-playful part, his usual dangerous, breathtaking smile returning to his face.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“What?” he asked, his tone defensive.
“You could try complimenting me without complimenting yourself."
His arms dropped with defeat and with his head slightly bowed, then looked up to see you trying to fight a smile. It made him do the same. The first comfortable silence of the evening nestled between the two of you. With that, he gradually closed the remaining gap between your bodies.
“I was kidding. You did great. I appreciate everything you said-” you reassured, but you were gently interrupted.
“Darling, I know”.
As he uttered those last three words, his hand snuck up the back of your neck, gently pulling you all the way in. As soon as your lips touched, both of your façades fell away, and all that was left was need. A deep, visceral need for each other. He deepened the kiss by moving his hand up through your hair and tugging it slightly to pull your head back a little. He savoured your mouth. With this advantaged position, he let himself in past your lips, and you gladly submitted. After letting him play with you, you pushed yourself against him, and he softened his grip on your hair and relaxed his neck to allow you some room to fight back. As soon as you began nibbling on his lip between kisses, he groaned slightly and you felt his body weaken. To regain his power, he leant against your body, walking you backwards a few paces to the small mossy wall beside the tent, holding you against it.
As the kiss got messier and hungrier, he traced his thumb up your neck, across your collarbone, towards your shoulder, and down your arm to your hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours, pushing the back of your hand against the wall to keep you right where he wanted you. His other hand did the same with your other hand.
“May I?” he asked, moments later. One of his hands had now crept to the skin below the hem of your shirt, his fingers pointed down. You had been so absorbed in the kiss you hadn’t even noticed. You nodded, and he slipped his hand into your trousers and felt your body tense. He began to lightly rub the middle of your most sensitive spot through the fabric of your underwear, raising his eyebrows proudly at the sensation of you shaking a little and weakening. He chuckled quietly when you started moving your hips back and forth, and bearing down on his hand.
“Oh my, look at that. It never takes you long to get so wet for me.” he cooed, still caressing where you wanted him most.
You gripped the side of the wall desperately, letting frustrated whimpers escape. He sighed and started to play with the top of your underwear, your noses still touching.
“I guess I should stop teasing you now, darling…” he said, still smiling wickedly, admiring how much of a mess you became when he possessed your body like this. He tutted at your flushed cheeks, and the way your eyes glazed over with pleasure, raising his eyebrows slightly in delight to feel that your body was ready for him.
His fangs glinted, exposing themselves from his wide smile at the sound of your first gasp, once his fingers found their way quickly into your underwear, reaching your clit without hesitation. He touched lightly at first, drawing circles until you whined and arched your spine, so he used his other hand to support your back and push your body downwards onto his hand, so he could play with you harder and faster. He held you like this for a while, feeling you melt in his arms. As you closed your eyes and allowed sweet moans to tumble out of you, he watched you carefully and hungrily. You were dripping down his fingers now as he rubbed your clit even faster, finding your sweet spot at the perfect pressure. Once you began to shiver, he slipped two fingers inside of you softly, mirroring your blissful inhale as he did so.
“Oh, my dear… playing with you like this is a delight beyond words” he said, beginning to lose his own composure at the sound of your moans. He was edging towards his own desperation now but held himself back from begging for you to touch him. You felt yourself losing control of your breath, hardly being able to keep your legs planted on the ground as you leant against the wall, your head dizzy with excitement. Your breath hitched a little, and he softened his fingers.
“Not yet, dear. You're not coming until I'm finished with you.”
While still slipping your wetness around your clit, he leaned slowly towards your ear. He left light kisses along your neck, and as he trailed towards your warm, fragile collarbone, he allowed himself a small bite. You didn't wince. This was a breeze compared to your first bite from him, he was merely sampling you, his warm tongue exciting your nerve endings. You pushed yourself softly against his mouth, gripping the back of his neck and leaving scratches up his back. These body cues gave him permission to bite harder, expertly creating a delicate stream of blood that he sucked from the area just above your collarbone, groaning desperately. He kept his long, messy drags from your veins at bay by playing with your breasts, pressing his fingers so hard and deep you thought he might leave marks.
He moved lower and lower, kissing and sucking down your stomach, pulling down your clothes so he could access your thighs. As you shook above him, he studied your movements with darkened, starving eyes.
“You look perfect all the time, my dear, but this… when we’re with the others, I miss you dreadfully like this.”
For a moment you contemplated what he meant by ‘this’. In his power? Under his control? Flushed and flustered? Exposed?
Your contemplation was quickly interrupted the moment you felt his hot breath, followed by his flickering tongue at your soft opening, and he drank up your moans again.
He allowed himself a long taste of you once he’d moved his tongue further inside, absorbing your breaths and moans like it was lifeblood. He played with your swollen clit with his thumb, enveloping his mouth with your pussy, gently savouring. He moved his thumb away to swirl his tongue around your clit now, forgetting to breathe as he became so focused on getting you to arch your back and buck your hips up the way he liked. That familiar throb and succession of high-pitched whimpers indicated that you were close again, so he withdrew. When you whined, his enraptured smile made his eyes crease beautifully, and he held your face as he came up. Something was different this time than the previous times. He wanted you both to finish at the same time, his eyes locked with yours. You weren’t sure what gave you that instinct about his thoughts- the tadpole perhaps, or some other connection.
You both smiled with anticipation as he supported your wounded side with his hand and lifted you effortlessly onto the sturdy and soft surface of the wall. You kicked your trousers and underclothes off completely now, and you let him part your thighs with the back of his index finger.
He was completely attuned to your body, and noticed you lean over slightly to the wounded side, protecting it subtly with your arm.
“Don’t worry my dear, I’ll be careful… initially” he said, smirking after that last word, moving your arm back behind you and pinning it on the wall.
You couldn’t help reaching towards him to unbuckle his belt desperately, and your lips collided again, deeper and messier this time.
“Now I've got you suitably wet…” he started, moving himself into the right position,
“I’m going to make you make more of those pretty cries for me.”
You looked up at him, eyes wide with desperation.
“Gale can share you all he likes...” he started, his voice velvety and breathless,
“But after tonight, he’ll know who is fucking you better.”
He grasped the back of your neck so he could watch your face as he entered you.
Your eyebrows furrowed and your inhale was eager as he filled you, and his knees buckled a little. It was as intense for him as it was for you. He looked intoxicated with the sight and feeling of you. At the mercy of his tongue and his fingers you were helpless, but as he fucked you, his power and control slipped away. You pulled him in closer to take in more of him, and moved your hips to compliment his thrusts, making him grunt and curse desperately. Your hot kisses travelled up his neck, stopping at his ear where you left a few hard bites on his earlobe.
“Fuck, you feel incredible” he groaned euphorically, and you watched him, enchanted, as he started to lose all control of his moans as he slid in and out, his curls tickling your neck.
To take back the power and wipe the smugness off your face, he returned his hand back to your clit, but showed no mercy this time, his fingers working fast in your most sensitive spot. A devious grin returned to his face as he watched you moan uncontrollably, and growled a satisfied "that's it, sweetheart".
You found yourself almost embarrassed by the sounds escaping you, but he wanted nothing more than to remember them forever.
As he thrusted himself into you deeper, he had to focus on holding your lower back so you didn't fall off the wall.
“Astarion… please…” you managed to beg between desperate moans.
“Good start, my sweet… please- what?” he teased, making sure he angled himself to hit your spot, watching happily as you struggled to speak and resist your quakes.
“Please… I can't take much more…” you cried, legs twitching against his hand that he held firmly on your thigh to keep your legs wide open.
He fucked you faster in response, wrapping his fingers around your neck. You held each other for dear life as he drove himself near the edge. He looked as if he could continue for a while, until your orgasm started building.
"Gods, don't clench like that... its not fair-" he exasperated, his final desperate thrusts shattering through you.
He unravelled as your walls contracted rhythmically, your bodies writhing as your wetness ran down his leg. He then grunted heatedly, using the last of his reserves to edge you both into rapture. He held you tighter as you were undone, and spilled into you as soon as he felt your walls clench tighter than they ever had. The feeling of him twitching deep inside you prolonged your ecstasy, and your foreheads pressed together during the calm after the storm.
He kept himself inside you for a few moments, enjoying your heat. You breathed into each other. Time liquified and trickled, then settled like snow on petals. You both laughed and panted delicately, sated. He supported you as you slid off the wall, the grass catching you both as you kept your bodies tangled, rising and falling.
That comfortable silence ensued before he spoke again.
“Still angry with me, darling?”