Chapter Text
None of the party members were pleased to be in the Shadow Cursed lands, the stagnant air and beckoning darkness causing even Lae’zel to bristle with caution, though no doubt distracted by the information she learned from visiting the Crèche.
Gale made it apparent that he hated how he could barely feel the presence of the Weave, saying something about how the magic looming over this place was tainted and foul. His hand rubbing over the orb that lay dormant in his chest, no thanks to the esteemed wizard that caught them before they entered the Shadow lands, telling him to sacrifice himself for forgiveness. Astarion snorted, rolling his eyes at the memory. Why would anyone care for a goddess that requested that in return for being back in her good graces? It was even more irritating though that Gale seemed to be contemplating her request, against every party members opinion. It was selfish, and that was coming from Astarion.
The ever courageous Karlach got a bad feeling about the place as soon as their feet touched the dreary soil, urging everyone to keep close to her. Now that seemed like a good idea; when in danger, find the barbarian tiefling. It seemed hard for her to keep up her fiery positivity here, which seemed almost impossible sometimes.
The only person in their group that didn’t mind the shadows that enveloped this place was -of course- Shadowheart. She had strayed away from the group’s torch light and received no pain or punishment from the cursed shadows. She had lifted her chin and proclaimed that it was probably because Shar loved her, embracing the shadows. While that may have been the case, her bravado was very much only on the surface level, her own eyes darting here and there with an edge of nervousness.
Astarion hated it here. And not to say that he was suffering here more than anyone else, but he certainly was. He had gotten used to getting up early in the morning to feel the sunrise, the heat warming his pale skin, making him feel alive. Every moment in the sun was another reminder that it was due to the tadpole in his head, but he enjoyed the sunshine all the same. He had thrown a fit and become overbearingly irritable when they went to the Underdark, and that was only for a couple of nights. Here in these cursed lands…Astarion had no idea how long they would be wandering for. On top of all that, there was no wildlife here for him to hunt, everything afflicted by the shadows, or already having rotted away on the side of the many paths they stumbled upon. They had been traveling for four days now, only having seen cursed zombies, rotting cattle, and a group of troublesome meazels that would be an option if Astarion didn’t have some self respect and pride.
His usually vibrant red eyes were a pale-red color, dark circles under his eyes and little energy in his body. He needed to drink something soon or he would be little help when under attack. Which is what is happening currently.
“Astarion!” Gale called out as the vampire was knocked back by one of the goblins they were fighting, the drider near him lashing out to slice open his side. The poisonous blade instantly going to work on setting his blood on fire, causing him to cry out in pain, baring his teeth. He began to feel sluggish and dizzy, too weak to possibly move on his own. A roar echoed off the dead trees and abandoned buildings as Karlach swung her greataxe at the massive creature, hacking off several long, spider legs, blood splattering the cold earth.
Astarion blinked slowly, his vision starting to blur as he bobbed in and out of consciousness. The battle around him slowed down before his eyes. He could hear the screams and gurgling sound of coughing up blood, wheezing from their foes, but couldn’t enjoy any of it. The last thing he remembered was Gale by his side, prying open an eye and checking on his condition, then looking over his shoulder to call for Shadowheart’s aid. Astarion groaned in pain, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.
~*~
When Astarion opened his eyes again, he wasn’t in his own tent, instead finding himself in…Gale’s? Groaning, the vampire sat himself up, propping himself on his elbows, looking around. The wizard’s tent was warm and dimly lit by a couple of candles, books stacked up in a neat pile next to the bedroll he was sleeping on, several plush pillows keeping him comfortable. Grimacing, he reached down where he had been sliced open, finding no trace of the wound or damage to his shirt for that matter. He was changed into his night clothes, cured of his poison and healed of his physical wounds. So why did he still feel like shit?
“Oh good, you’re awake. Glad to have you back,” a voice from the entrance of the tent caught his attention, Gale’s kind smile aimed at him.
“Eager to get me alone in your bedroll, are we?” Astarion tried teasing, grimacing as his stomach growled, more starving than ever. He hadn’t felt this way since before they started their little journey together.
“That would be highly inappropriate giving the state you were in when we brought you here,” the wizard answered, kneeling down by his side to check on his side and scanned his face, “Your tent is getting built and set up by Karlach and Wyll at the moment since we moved to a new area. I thought it best to give you some rest while you healed.”
Astarion could have sworn that he saw a faint blush on the human’s face, but he also could just be hallucinating things right now.
“You still look dreadful, if you can forgive my bluntness,” Gale frowned, leaning forward to brush a hand against his cheekbones and forehead. He looked more thin and hollowed than normal, and that was apparent before the drider’s blade did its damage. The vampire was fully healed yet looked more sickly than he had ever seen.
“Yes, well, there isn’t anything for me to actually eat here with my special ‘diet’. And I don’t see or hear any of you willing to help me out,” he grumbled, but it was true. Karlach still was too hot to touch, Lae’zel made it apparent that there would be no fangs anywhere near her, Wyll still had his guard up around the vampire, and Shadowheart was not his biggest fan either. And don’t even get him started on Gale’s toxic blood due to the literal bomb in his chest.
“Oh…I’m sorry, it seems that none of us ever really stopped to think of that.” He said apologetically, hand retreating back to his side.
“You all have your reasons to not want to help, and I get it. It’s just…I can’t find anything suitable for me to hunt. I only need a little blood…”
The wizard next to him went quiet, thinking to himself a moment before looking Astarion in his pale eyes, “You can drink from me. I’d be happy to help out a friend.”
A friend.
Astarion stared at the man, surprised. He had never been offered from anyone, especially the bookish wizard that made a big deal about it the first time he got a taste.
“I know that you did not care for how..my blood tasted due to the orb, but I thought I would offer. I’d like to help in any way I can. We are all a team and it isn’t fair that you have to go hungry, and I can talk to everyone about this situation to try and have them help out,too.” Gale was rambling now, nervous and avoiding the other’s unblinking eyes.
Without a second thought, Astarion was instantly on top of Gale, pinning the wizard down onto his bedroll, still having some strength to be able to manage that much. Wide brown eyes looked up at him, the man’s mouth parted and breathing quickened from surprise. Astarion could hear the blood pumping from his heart, making his mouth water, he could smell the vile blood but wanted it with a wild hunger. The man under him did not move or try to resist him, patiently waiting for whatever Astarion’s next move was.
Shifting his body, the vampire straddled the other, making it easier for him to lean his face down and breathe against his throat and neck. A low groan escaped his lips as he nosed at his skin, finding the perfect spot to bite.
“Only a mouthful or two,” he promised before sinking his teeth down into his willing prey. Gale gasped under him, the icy fire of the vampire bite burning his blood, feeling him slowly drain him. Astarion grimaced at the foul tasting blood, but continued to slowly drink, the taste becoming intoxicatingly good. It was almost addicting, oddly enough. Like a drug, he started to feel high off the taste, only pushing him to want even more. He felt hands clutch at the back of his shirt, nails digging into his body for dear life as the wizard panted and squirmed under him, but not trying to push the other away. Surprisingly, a firm hand hoping to tangle into white locks of hair, keeping him in place at his neck.
“Ah- Astarion…” the compliant brunette groaned, starting to feel lightheaded, tight grip on his back and hair loosening. Regrettably, he released the other’s neck, kissing and licking at the two puncture marks on his neck, cleaning the blood as best he could.
“You are utterly intoxicating, darling,” Astarion growled, his eyes back to their deep red color, flaws and tiredness fading from his pale face as his body was full of Gale’s blood. He bent over and gently bit into the other side of his neck, sucking up more of his blood, more enthusiastic this second time. It burned his throat and made him hot all over; nothing had ever felt as good. Before he drank too much, Astarion forced himself to sit back on the other’s thighs, looking down at the mess before him.
“Do you need…any more?” Gale winced, bringing a hand up to one side of his neck. Red eyes widened at the offer of more. The man barely had any blood left and yet he was offering himself up. In this moment he was a cornered prey, held down by a predator, knowing that his life was in the vampires hands. And yet he was still worried about Astarion.
“No…thank you, Gale. I feel better already,” Astarion purred, fangs flashing in the flicker of the candlelight, mouth stained in blood, droplets dripping down his chin onto the wizard’s night robe. His eyes flickered around Gale, taking the mess that he was. His face was pale except the red blush that kissed his cheeks, eyes half lidded and glossed over, breathing labored but returning to normal. What a sight the wizard was. Astarion wasn’t blind, he had always thought the other was handsome and he had thought about what it would be like in bed with ‘the Wizard of Waterdeep’ but those thoughts were probably just the large amount of blood he drank instead of true feelings.
“Thank you again, darling. I’ll make good use of your blood,” getting up, he brushed himself off and stretched. His body felt powerful and full of energy, he felt ready to be thrown in battle. As the rogue left, he tried not to notice the wizard shift and cover his crotch, apparently a side effect of the evening. He wouldn’t blame him, it was actually fairly normal from the people he drank from, an unintentional response. But…that paired with the groans Gale let slip from his lips and how he looked at him afterwards… maybe there was a dirty little secret their wizard was keeping to himself.