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Still he ate every bite Astarion pressed against his lips: salty, fatty meat; buttery cream-stuffed pastries; bite after bite until he lost track of what dish Astarion was reaching for and just surrendered to whatever those cold hands brought forth. As excruciating as it had been to keep a tight rein on the slayer form... |
"Fuck, I’m full," he gasped. |
Astarion scraped his teeth along the underside of Ildran’s belly. He cupped the fat there with one hand and pushed it up, angling in for a better, more condensed bite. |
The blood evidently wasn’t flowing fast as Astarion wanted. A moment later, Ildran felt him shake the handful of plush flesh in apparent encouragement, then lightly slap at his side. |
"Creative of you," Ildran said, a breathless laugh escaping as his stomach shook. |
Astarion pulled his fangs free. "And not the most effective, if I’m being honest." He rubbed a thumb over the punctures, then gave the site a teasing pinch. "But you’re simply so much more bitable now, I couldn’t resist. My well-fed little treat." |
"You’re the one who keeps plying me with all this." |
"Keen as ever, darling," Astarion said, moving up to kiss his neck. "Concentrate hard now, and you might just realize I’ve got fangs." |
Despite being fully clothed his erection wasn’t subtle, and though Astarion wasn’t hiding it, he didn’t seem inclined to actively do anything about it either. His hips moved slowly as he squeezed Ildran’s side. Cold slender fingers slipped between every roll and crease they found, stroking him there before moving on. |
Astarion got something out of this, Ildran knew. Something more than just the blood; not entirely sexual, but not chaste either. The way he touched, and teased, and rocked in uneven rhythyms - well. |
"Do you want me to...?" Ildran put his hands on Astarion’s hips and pulled them in ever slightly, to minimize confusion about what was on offer. Astarion’s hardness pressed against his belly. |
But Astarion shook his head. "I want you to eat," he whispered. Fangs caught gently on Ildran’s earlobe. |
"I can’t." His voice came out breathless. "I’m so full. Just let me feed you properly." |
Astarion clucked his tongue. "Wrong again, darling. You’re not feeding me - not yet. And you’re not touching me, you’re going to touch yourself." He took Ildran’s hand and guided it down, as he shifted to lie at Ildran’s side, one leg still straddling his thigh. |
Ildran pushed up into the touch with a low moan. One hand worked lazily over his own cock. The other he pressed into the small of Astarion’s back. |
Hells, he’d gotten big. A few months ago Astarion wouldn’t have to kick his leg up so high to hug Ildran’s side like this. A few months ago Astarion wouldn’t have seemed small in the crook of his arm; a little leech at his neck. |
As Astarion laved his neck, priming over the many, many scars of past punctures, he reached absently over the table and grabbed indiscriminately at whatever of the feast remained. Messy bites met Ildran’s lips. A bit of ham, a bit of bread, a bit of something jammy and sweet. He could feel his gut swelling alongside hi... |
"Stop," he gasped. "Gods, Astarion, stop. I can’t. Stop, and feed on me. Now." |
A rare exception, Ildran decided. Just this once - just this once, he’d beg. "Please." |
Without hesitation Astarion plunged his fangs into Ildran’s neck. |
He’d been hungry too, Ildran realized - starving. He rarely drank like this, hard and desperate and sucking at the bite with abandon. Feral. His hardness below still pressed against Ildran’s hip, and he bucked a little as the blood flowed. |
"Gods." Ildran sped up the pace of his own efforts. He wanted to come with Astarion buried in his neck. Full to the brim and pouring as much blood into Astarion’s mouth as he’d spilled at the temple. |
Astarion’s hand landed on his stomach. His sharp nails dug in, forming a bitemark formation of their own around Ildran’s navel. He toyed with the soft fat there as he drank, in slow kneading motions like a cat palming its prey. |
"You’re mine," Astarion whispered. Blood tripped from his teeth. "You will sit at my side for a thousand years, and purge Baldur’s Gate of all who are not worthy to be my toy or my meal. And when you finally stop refusing the gift I can give you - the gift I would give only you - we will rule together for a thousand mo... |
Empty words. Together meant at my side, and at my side meant beneath. |
He almost sounded like he meant it. As much as he could. |
Ildran was far too full to physically remove himself from the situation. Rolling off the table and gathering the scraps of his robes sounded impossible. His only option was to lie there, stuffed and aching and running hot even under Astarion’s icy touch, and listen to the proposal. |
But oh, it was hard to ignore, with Astarion wrapped cool and attentive around his side, here whispering in his ear: "The world could be ours forever, darling. Don’t you want that?" |
"Mm. A little domination, a little death," Ildran mused. He gripped the soft curls at the base of Astarion’s neck. |
"And a lot of blood. Isn’t this far more satisfying than your little ritual?" |
At that Ildran yanked Astarion’s head back roughly. |
Astarion went instantly pliant. He was beautiful - too beautiful, his lips wet and dripping, his neck exposed, jaw strong and delicate all at once, looking very much like some feral cat rendered immobile by a grip at the nape. |
Those words from some dozen years ago still shivered in the back of Ildran’s mind. Gods. Hells, all nine of them - how he regretted making that last illithid poke. Astarion didn’t know. Strange how the tadpole had been gone for so much longer than it ever infected him, and yet its influence lingered. |
He will always see you as degrading yourself, if you choose to be with him, it had said. And then: Maybe you want that. |
Dead little worm - damned thing. |
Astarion breathed hard but still said nothing, still surrendering to Ildran’s grip. His tongue darted out to catch a stray rivulet of blood at the corner of his mouth. |
Ildran yanked again. "Don’t you dare. That’s mine." |
Astarion went still again. The blood dripped down, tortuously slow, following its own path at first and then catching in the little crease between his mouth and chin. |
The world moved fast for an ascended vampire. The wait would drive Astarion mad, and Ildran relished the torture. He didn’t move a muscle as the first droplets landed on his bare chest. The first two beads of blood sat there patiently. When the third landed the tension broke and the little red trickle slid down between... |
In those final parasite-riddled days he may well have prodded Ildran’s mind and heard some treacherous little secret of his own. He will never be yours while he belongs to Bhaal, maybe. Something that kept him like this: desperate, possessive, endlessly hungry in his own way. |
Or maybe that was just Ildran’s wishful thinking. |
He released Astarion’s head. The resulting gasp was gratifying. As was the tongue that instantly met his chest. |
He leaned back and began to work himself again, content in their balance for now, and was vocal in his pleasure at Astarion’s lapping between his tits. No hard feelings. No harm done. This was simply how it was between the two of them. What was it that far uglier corpse used to say? Thy wheel turns ever to the dark... |
He came over Astarion’s hand and his belly both. |
Astarion looked down at the mess on his fingers. Then he gripped Ildran’s neck and squeezed, wiping the trickle of blood up with his palm before licking the whole length of his hand. "Delicious," he murmured. "All of you." |
Ildran ran finger up the lower edge of Astarion’s ear. Such a pretty, delicate little thing. The lover he'd taken, the ascendant he'd made. |
A thousand years of this, would it be. |
The morning sun peeked through the tree branches and into her tent, rays of light that seemed too bright for the early morning Shadowheart expected. While she had only gone to nap a few hours ago—her and Tavrian had retreated to their tents just as dawn was breaking—she thought only an hour of sleep would be granted to... |
The tiefling refugees were gone, already heading towards Baldur’s Gate under the direction of Zelvor. In the middle of the camp by a smoldering fire lounged Karlach, Wyll and Gale. Astarion sat to the side, book in hand and unamused, and there was no sign of either Halsin or Tavrian. None of them seemed particularly re... |
"Morning soldier," Karlach said. "Get enough rest last night?" The way she spoke lingered between concern and teasing hints, as if the tiefling knew what had happened last night. Of course, it would not be possible. She was too careful to avoid being seen, and she knew that most of them had gone to bed. |
"I got enough, I’m just unused to the lack of noise as everyone gets ready." She shot back and stepped close to the small fire. The pot of coffee, brewed by Wyll, hung over the flame and their mugs, each scavenged from the village, were set in a circle. "Anyone see where the paladin went?" |
"I believe he’s talking with Halsin. I missed his usual stomping around, the celebration last night was a nice break from our frantic pace and lulled me into a deep sleep." Gale chuckled at some hidden joke then glanced to the side. "Speak their name, and they shall appear." |
Shadowheart followed his gaze and saw both Tavrian and Halsin emerge from the nearby growth. They were still speaking in low voices as conspirators would; though both seemed rather relaxed, walking like two friends through the forest. |
"Good morning everyone!" Tavrian called out with a smile, stepping forward to pour himself a cup of coffee and immediately bask in its heat. "I was speaking with Halsin and we both agreed that it’d be a good idea if we took the day off before plunging into the Underdark. Who knows when we’ll see the sun again, especial... |
"Sounds good to me, the way forward doesn’t seem that easy. A shadow-curse, the Underdark, treacherous mountains, another day before starting our journey wouldn’t hurt," Wyll commented as he poured the rest of the pot into their cups. Shadowheart still watched his movements, looking for any sign that he slipped poison ... |
"Do you have something planned for us then?" Astarion had crept closer to the group, his arms crossed. "I for one am worried about the tadpole swimming around in our heads, and would rather we got closer to Baldur’s Gate instead of wasting today." |
"While you all should be cautious, know that it seems ceremorphosis has not been triggered yet. You are all safe, for the time being, and I believe Tavrian’s suggestion holds merit, for there is no telling when you will have an opportunity to relax again." Halsin’s thoughtful voice rumbled in his throat, he was pleased... |
"I don’t have anything in particular planned," Tavrian began, "I’m going fishing, if anybody wants to join me." There was a clamor as Karlach and Wyll immediately bounded towards him, swarming both Tavrian and Halsin with an excitement not unlike dogs asked to go for a walk. Shadowheart sighed and stepped away from the... |
"And for two torches, fifty feet of rope, a lantern with oil, ten days of rations, and a large bottle of Arcadian Red, that’ll be twenty gold." The halfling merchant in the Emerald Grove finished counting up all of Shadowheart’s goods and held out his hand. |
She passed over the gold and began collecting the gear into her backpack. If they were going into the Underdark, she wanted to be prepared and it seemed no one else shared the sentiment. None of them would have lasted in Shar’s temple, except maybe Astarion. He had the ruthlessness to survive. Certainly not Tavrian. No... |
Shadowheart’s thoughts paused when she saw the ring. It was made out of charred wood, the circle ridged seven times and twisted into a spiral. A cut sapphire was embedded into the wood at the head and was surrounded by delicate leaves of silver, the slivers of metal so thin that it could only have been made by a master... |
"Interested in that are you?" |
"Perhaps, can you tell me anything about it?" |
The halfling leaned closer and tucked his hand to his chin. "Ah, this is something I picked up in my travels, long ago. It’s from the Azure Glade, a land far to the east. That’s why it's made of wood. It’s Heartsung . A practice by those people, they can actually sing trees to life. As it was told to me, this ring was... |
"Are you sure? I have the money," Shadowheart stammered. |
"Absolutely, consider it a gift." |
A hint of a smile appeared on Shadowheart’s face and she nodded her thanks before turning away. She began heading back to their camp and examined the ring once more as she walked. The Azure Glade was Tavrian’s home where, by his account from last night, he had spent his days hunting and farming alongside his parents. H... |
The pain of a branding iron burst upon her hand and she cried out. The purple light from her wound was as bright as a sphere of pure daylight, and it burned with the intensity of the sun. The pain coursed through her arm and she fell to her knees, teeth clenched together and her hand closed into a fist around the ring.... |
When she returned to the camp she set her bag on the ground before her tent and glanced around the empty place. It was not often that she was alone—Tavrian always insisted they fought together, and if she did find a moment of solitary peace, it was in the darkness of night and sleep would soon claim her. Yet now the su... |
"It's odd, isn’t it?" Astarion’s voice came from behind her and she whirled around. The vampire was at the entrance to their camp, shirtless and with his soaking wet shirt in hand, the rest of his clothes sodden with water. "We have the promise of death in our head and yet our brave leader has decided its best to take ... |
"It’s not exactly what I would have planned, but it looks like you took him up on his offer," Shadowheart smirked, "did you grow too bored to stay away?" |
"Hardly, I just haven’t been to a beach in ages. With the sun being ever-present and all the people, I never got much of a chance these past centuries. Tavrian was smart enough to pick a nice isolated spot for all the kids to get their energy out. Unfortunately, Karlach and Wyll thought it funny to douse me in seawater... |
Shadowheart felt her breath leave her chest. It was a strange sensation, to feel like everything you were was ripped away just because someone wanted you. When was the last time she had felt like that? Of course, she didn’t show it. Instead she turned and began rummaging through her own things, pulling out what she had... |
"Oh don’t be like that." She could tell that he was grinning from the teasing tone in his voice. "I saw you two together last night, sneaking off like two thieves in the night. You may have gotten away, but he is as loud as an elephant running through a village. Besides, he wears his heart on his sleeve; kept looking t... |
Shadowheart was silent until she heard the scraping of boots across dirt. She turned and Astarion had joined her at the tent, his arms crossed as he examined everything she had purchased. His eyes skipped over everything to hers, and deep within them she could see a lingering question that he wanted to ask. "What?" |
His eyes dropped to the ground before he sighed and sat before her. She saw that he was actually contemplative, brow bent in focus and frowning, instead of the jesting facade he usually wore. "Do you think the other shoe is going to drop?" |
"You’re going to have to be a bit clearer." |
"With Tavrian. He’s a paladin, sworn to uphold justice and act with honor, like a knight straight out of the faerie tales. You," he spoke with a sharp glance to the Sharran armor she wore, "are a priestess of Shar. I’m a vampire spawn. Do I really have to spell it out?" |
Shadowheart bit back a retort, instead digging into the truth that lurked behind Astarion’s words. She recognized that oftentimes her faith demanded bloodshed and treachery, that it involved actively breaking someone in order to divine the Truth behind their lies. It was not a kind faith like the false deities that wer... |
She met Astarion’s gaze. He was concerned too, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought it up. His and Tavrian’s relationship was far from close, yet the paladin had deceived the Gur huntsman, and had even offered up his own blood to sate Astarion’s thirst. Her gaze was then drawn to a glinting light in the dust. It was the ... |
"Hmm." Astarion laid back so that half of his body was shrouded in the purple tent and the rest was bared to the sky. "I do hope you’re right, I’ve grown accustomed to having you lot around." |
Shadowheart didn’t say anything, instead she twisted the ring around in her hand. Looking past Astarion and towards the sea, she could imagine what the rest of them were getting up to. Karlach and Halsin were likely in the water, Wyll and Tavrian were probably fencing, all while Gale watched with a glass of wine in ha... |
Day passed into evening and in the last hour of dusk the rest of the party returned. Halsin and Tavrian carried with them a long, thin, log where fish were hanging from. Karlach was obviously drunk, being led by a red-faced Wyll and Gale to her tent where she collapsed into laughter. Shadowheart and Astarion had spent ... |
She had pulled out a book when she heard heavy footsteps approaching her tent. With an eye roll she poked her head out and saw Tavrian standing there. His dark hair had been pulled back into a top knot, his red shirt undone to his chest, and over his shoulder he had a bulging sack bound by knotted and frayed rope. When... |
Shadowheart scanned the surroundings, it didn’t look like anyone was paying too close attention to them. "If you can fit in here without knocking anything over, come on in." Tavrian crouched down and slipped into the space, it was impressive given his size and the confusing layout of the pillows. She preferred that her... |
"It’s like a hideaway here, with plenty of pillows for comfort." |
His words triggered something, a memory that struggled to reach the surface. There had been another place like this, wasn’t there? Someplace safe and familiar where the sharp dangers of the world did not strike her. She shivered and glanced over to Tavrian who was busy untying the sack and pulling book after book out. ... |
"What’s all of this," she asked. |
"Books I found, or bought. Letters that have been abandoned, scrolls that bear ancient wisdom." He shrugged and picked up another slim book. This one Shadowheart recognized. The Lustful Dragonborn Maid. A salacious story where the master of the house and his dragonborn maid escaped to pleasure each other in the shado... |
"Why do you have so many?" |
"I like reading, even if I’m slow at it. Plus, you never know what you’ll uncover in these. It could be helpful secrets, or someone’s memories that need to be honored." He examined the collection and picked one at random, before settling back and looking towards her. "Did you have a good day?" |
Shadowheart started, eyes narrowing as she considered the question. "Well, I got some things I think we’ll need for the Underdark. Then Astarion and I spent the time drinking and gossiping." Her lips turned up into a sly grin. "You should consider the practice." |
Tavrian casually looked her over, lips pursed in thought. "I’m not sure if I have the temperament for that, I’m not one to share secrets." |
A small chuckle escaped her as she lounged back into the pillows. "I think anybody could see that without much effort. Perhaps I’ll give you some pointers, if the time comes." She turned to the book and began reading. From over the pages she could see that he watched her for a lingering moment before turning to his own... |
Do you think he will remain by your side forever? Or you to his? Your ambitions should be higher than what a foolish paladin can offer—he will grant you nothing that will aid your task, nor will he understand what you must do in my name. He will leave you, or worse, destroy you with malice in his eyes. |
Shadowheart did not immediately react to Shar’s voice. It came like a whisper from the back of her head, a voice calling from her heart. The voice was soft and sharp, spoken by one who held a knife against silk. One word and the knife would tear everything apart, shredding it to absolute nothingness. That was the power... |
Slowly she set the book to the side and sat up. Her eyes were focused on the floor, she could not bear to look at him. "Tavrian," she felt him stir and turn, but did not dare meet his eyes. "Would you abandon," she paused, her heart pounding to the point where it was hard to think. She needed to know, but felt that som... |
"What do you mean?" His deep voice rumbled and she closed her eyes, exhaling to try and steady herself, to remember who she was. She was a priestess of Lady Shar, the Nightsinger, the one who shall envelop the world in darkness and eliminate all hurts and woes. Hers was a noble duty, she should not be afraid to be chal... |
She raised her chin and a scowl overtook her lips. Ferocity shone in her face while the tent darkened with the final passage of the sun. "If I said that the Dark Lady had ordered me to do something, and you didn’t agree, would you stop me?" |
Tavrian was silent for a minute. Through that long silence their gazes matched one another. He stared at her with an intensity that could only be called a building storm, ready to unleash fury yet restrained by some greater will. She did not back down, instead her scowl deepened and her eyes darkened. She could match h... |
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