Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Astarion’s eyes followed their de facto leader’s form as she reorganised their supplies. She walked around, counting each apple, each rope. Her braids swung as she moved, her brows furrowed in concentration. Completely unaware of the beast that watched her every move. A true ingenue. He rubbed his tongue against his fangs, his mouth suddenly dry. Even if it had been days already, he could still feel her, taste her. If he closed his eyes, Astarion could picture her writhing underneath him, gasping quietly, for his ears only. His first. Well, first feed that wasn’t a rat or other vermin, that is. Who knew that after nearly two centuries, Astarion would be able to have new experiences? He hadn’t thought it possible while being Cazador’s puppet, but that little tadpole inside his brain had granted him a certain autonomy, so to speak, he did not want to give up. And to keep basking in this newfound freedom, it had become very apparent to him that he needed Nia.

She baffled him, particularly on the night she had oh so graciously given him her blood. Alright, she did so after he had persuaded her, of course, but the point still stands that Nia had not attempted to kill him or hurt him in any capacity after finding out his little secret. He didn’t believe any of the others would have reacted in the same way, even after sweet-talking them. And true, Astarion was an expert manipulator, and yet he knew his words hadn’t, ultimately, convinced her. After being startled, she could have tried to kill him with the dagger he knew she always carried; or at least attempted to break his nose or knee him. Instead, she had very patiently waited for his explanation before offering him her blood. He wasn’t sure yet if it was his charisma or something else that had made her relent. An ugly part of himself wondered if he had looked so pathetic and hungry that night, that Nia had pitied him. Astarion consoled himself with the fact that it seemed she was just like that. She had acted similarly during their first meeting, as he roughly held her, dagger close to her neck, forcing her to give him the answers he craved. Astarion had thought her naïve back then, and indeed, he often thought she was too caring and selfless for her own good. Always wanting to help others. Never asking for gold in return for her help. Amassing a party filled with the most peculiar of individuals, all of whom could very easily kill her.

As much as he silently judged her ─and, believe him, he had bitten his tongue on countless occasions during her many acts of selflessness─ it had almost touched him how sweet Nia had been about the whole ordeal. She had even defended him, of all people, from the group’s accusations. Convinced them to accept him into the group once more, dissuading them of their justified worries. His life was safe once more, but the situation had made Astarion aware of one simple fact: Nia was the only thing standing between him and a stake. If he wanted to keep living, and potentially even defeat his evil master, he needed her. He needed to gain her trust.

In other times, he would’ve thought Brunhilde, their second in command, was better suited as a protector. She was a half-orc with remarkable strength and the skills to intimidate most anyone. However, for some reason, she hadn’t wanted to take charge right after their ragtag team had been formed. Astarion had since discovered she wasn’t the brightest of the bunch and preferred to keep to herself. She’d also growled at him when he had attempted to flirt with her. Nia, on the other hand, had laughed and flirted back, lips curling in a knowing smile. It had excited him then, made him feel at ease in this strange new situation he was in. He’d noticed that Nia had a way with people, which is why despite her lack of physical prowess, she’d been chosen as their leader. It also helped she was rather easy on the eyes. Now, although Astarion wasn’t one to discriminate against, he could admit that, objectively speaking, Nia was the most beautiful out of his companions. She had that elven beauty that could only be described as otherworldly. Astarion imagined he had it as well. Tough to know when one couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, but he’d been described as beautiful before. Divine even. She was too. It did stir something in him, loath he was to accept it. Nonetheless, this attraction made his most basic instincts kick in after having tasted her blood. Of doing what he knew how to do best. This time for himself and not for others. How to go about it, though?

One of the first lessons Cazador had ingrained in him was knowing his targets. Before luring his targets, Astarion would learn all pertinent information about his victims and use it against them. It only took him some minutes of observation to assess the situation until he got what he wanted from them. This situation he was in wasn’t any different. If he wanted to manipulate Nia into helping him, he needed to find out everything about her. What she liked. What made her tick. Perhaps, what made her moan even. The problem was that, although she was good at making others talk, she wasn’t the best sharer. What did Astarion know about her? Her name was Nia, of course. She was a high elf such as himself, which posed some difficulties. How old was she? Even he wouldn’t have been able to tell you. Elves were tricky like that. She could’ve been as young as eighteen or older than he was. Her naivete pointed to the former rather than the latter, but one could never know for sure. She was a wizard, but not a, well, Gale-like wizard. Less foolishly ambitious, not much of a talker, and a bit bookish, if all the books she gathered from their travels were anything to go by. She had told him she hailed from Baldur’s Gate, although Nia could’ve been lying, he didn’t think so. What else? Ah. He knew what her blood tasted like. Sweet. Floral. Supple. With a slight zest to it. Like the most delicious of wines. Hells, just thinking about it made Astarion hungry.

He shook his head. You need to focus. He made a mental list of all he knew about her.

1. High Elf
2. Wizard
3. Baldurian
4. Blood like wine

So, virtually nothing.

He pouted and half-heartedly glared at Nia, as she sat down and took out a book from her satchel to read. Oh, why did she have to be so mysterious? An insidious thought made its way into his head, telling him that she was secretive to him only. He hadn’t yet earned her trust, it would seem. Perhaps Brunhilde, Shadowheart or even Karlach knew more details about her, but it would be bloody impossible to get that information out of them. Firstly, because Brunhilde never talked to him. Secondly, Shadowheart had so many secrets herself, she no doubt would protect Nia’s from the likes of him. And thirdly, Karlach was more likely to make fun of him than to share anything useful.

No, if he wanted to know everything about Nia, he would need to go to the source herself.

He got up from his chair and walked towards her. He was so silent; Nia didn’t notice his approach. She was still engrossed with her book. Astarion peaked at it. It was a tome they had found today in some ruins. He made a note of it and then coughed to signal his arrival. Nia was startled. She jumped and then turned to look at him with her bright amethyst eyes.

“Astarion…” she whispered, a little breathless.

How endearing, he thought as she looked at her open mouth. Her pink lips had made a perfect o, and her chest heaved with each breath. “Hello, darling,” he greeted her, giving her a ─at least he hoped so─ friendly smile.

Nia composed herself and smiled back at him. “Did you need something?” She asked, her eyes glancing over his body.

Astarion smirked. Did she like what she saw? He hoped she did.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

She pursed her lips and one of her hands briefly touched her neck.

Oh. So that’s why she was looking so intently at him. Disappointment wormed its way into his heart, but he shot it down. Focus, Astarion.

“Ah, no,” he quickly corrected, “I do not need to feed yet. Well, not from you at least. As delicious as that would be.” He winked at her.

“I imagine you can hardly wait,” she replied, mirth dancing in her eyes.

Astarion’s smirk returned.

“I suppose next time I’m in need of you, we could make an evening out of it. I could bring wine into your tent.”

“Yes, that’d be nice. I could bring supper.”

At that a true chuckle bubbled from his throat.

“A lovely thought, my dear. But one we can leave, perhaps, for another occasion, if you will.”

Nia snorted and closed her book, putting it aside. She, then, looked at him with mischievousness. “Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your most honourable visit, Magistrate Astarion?” She said, extending her arms in a mock bow.

Astarion laughed freely this time. It was so easy to flirt with Nia, and so fun too. Flirting for him was only a method of survival. A means to an end that most often than not involved sex. Other times it was meant to be a deflection. A way to conceal his thoughts and feelings. It kept others at bay, which had worked like a charm around their companions, who did not appreciate his witty remarks. Nia, however, was different. She seemed amused by his flirtations, even if they mildly exasperated her. They never deterred her from trying to get to know him, something Astarion had taken note of. It felt like she could read him. It was not ideal, but it was useful information. He could work with that. She’d even begun flirting first on occasion. He wasn’t sure if it was attraction which drove her to follow his lead or if she was merely diverted. Perhaps it was a misguided attempt to connect with him. Whatever it was, he could use it against her and in his favour.

“Well, you see, darling, you’ve been so very bad.”

Nia raised a blonde eyebrow at him. “Oh. How so?” Amusement still laced her voice, but he could see his words had bothered her.

Astarion sighed dramatically and plopped himself down next to her. “Here I am, always pouring my soul to you, and yet, I hardly know anything about you.”

Sometimes, banking on honesty was the best course of action, even when they were half-truths.

“Sure, you do,” she answered. “You know my name.”

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I’m trying to get you to sharing, and you mock me.” She giggled and he scoffed. Then, Astarion picked up the book she had been reading and pretended to examine it. “So far you know my darkest secret, the identity of my master, my age, even the circumstances of my death. And what do I know about you?”

Nia took the book from his hands. “You could use the tadpole to find what you want,” she said, her voice sounding like a dare.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? No, I’d rather grill you until you cave and reveal all your skeletons in the cupboard.”

He laid it thick, knowing it would work.

She sighed. But it didn’t sound like a bad kind of sigh. More like a resigned one. “What do you want to know?”

Astarion smirked. Like the expert hunter he was, he had captured his prey.

“Well, darling, everything there is to know about you!”

“Everything, huh?” Nia gnawed at her teeth as she thought, a habit of hers Astarion had noticed. “I suppose I can start at the beginning. I’m a wizard─”

“─obviously.” He interrupted her, gaining an exasperated huff.

“─consultant at the academy in Baldur’s Gate.” She finished. “I study different texts to gather knowledge and create new spells. I teach said spells to the academy students. Occasionally, I do some translating work from Elvish and other languages to the common tongue.”

“So, you’re telling me you’re a teacher and a scholar? How boring of you, darling.” Well, it was no wonder he had never seen her in town. He’d been right. They did not frequent the same circles at all and thank the gods for that. Nia was exactly the kind of sweet thing Cazador would like to possess and destroy. He shook those dark thoughts from his head. Instead, he batted his eyelashes playfully at her. “Although, I would’ve killed to have a hot teacher like you. I imagine most of your students can’t learn a thing when you talk. I certainly wouldn’t. I’d be too distracted to pay attention.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “As if you’d do any schoolwork anyway.”

“You know me so well, my dear.”

“It’s not just academics, though. There’ve been times I’ve had to practice what I learn in more practical ways. Here. Outside.” She gestured to the camp. “Putting my sword to good use.”

“Oh? So that’s why you haven’t struggled like I have in our current conditions.”

“I suppose. Although I’m not that used to roughing it out here either.”

Astarion kept this new information in mind. A bladesinging wizard with a lot of dedication to new spells and some practical experience, huh. She might just know something that could be useful to him in the long run. And she might be well-connected with other important mages. Might even be the teacher of the children of the powerful people in Baldur’s Gate. Nia was definitely not a bad ally to have.

“What else can I tell you?” She suddenly asked out loud, seemingly deep in thought.

It’d been so easy after all to get her talking. I should’ve done this earlier, he thought.

“What about your age?” This was one of the most important things Astarion wanted to know for selfish reasons.

She gasped in mocked offense. “A gentleman shouldn’t ask such questions of a lady.”

“Good news I’m not a gentleman all the time.”

“Guess,” she said. It was a dare, one he’d gladly take.

“You could be so much younger than Lae’zel, and at the same time, you could be older than me. Hard to tell,” Astarion said, gauging her reactions carefully.

“What does your gut tell you?”

His gut told him this was a trick question. “You don’t look a day past sixteen.”

She pretended to laugh, but Astarion could tell her cheeks had turned a lovely shade of pink. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said, and then she reached to flick his nose.

“On the contrary, it’s what gets me to most places,” he said, grabbing her hand and, with a flourish, kissing it.

Nia pulled her hand away, cheeks still flushed. Her innocence would let anyone believe she was, in fact, quite young. How easily she blushed didn’t help in the matter. However, the way she had laughed at his guess made him think she was much older than she looked.

“Whatever I guess, I’m going to assume I’m still older than you.”

“You’d be correct in that guess. I’m older than sixteen, but younger than you are.” So that left him with too many options still.

“Ah, how despicable of me to have drunk the blood of such a young maiden!” Astarion exclaimed. He then wondered if Nia was, indeed, a maiden. The thought ignited something in him.

“No wonder I tasted so good,” she jested. “You had a taste of my youth.”

It was his turn to laugh. “No, you’re not an adolescent if you’re a teacher and a scholar. But, who knows, you might just be a prodigy.”

Nia leaned down until her mouth was in his pointy ear, and lowering her voice, she said in a false sweet voice, “And you shall never know.”

Her breath tickled his ear in a delightful way. But he couldn’t afford to get distracted by her pretty eyes. He cleared his throat and continued with his interrogation. “Ah, since the lady won’t divulge her age, I will ask something else. What about your life? Do you have family waiting for you in Baldur’s Gate? Friends? Lovers?”

Nia’s social circle was valuable information to have. Did she come from a famous and powerful family? What about her friends? Were they all wizards? Such matters were of the upmost importance. If there was anyone at all waiting for her, they were probably actively looking for her. They could, potentially, even offer rewards for her whereabouts. They could help him out in exchange for getting Nia back, safe and sound. Then, there was another part of Astarion which was simply curious about it. Was she married? She did not appear to be attached, and if she was, he felt sorry for the poor sod, for here was their partner openly flirting with a vampire, joking or not aside. And if Nia had a partner and perhaps children too out there, why would Astarion care? An uncomfortable feeling bloomed inside of him at the thought.

“I have a mother,” Nia said, interrupting his train of thought. “I don’t speak to her.”

Her voice had a bite to it that he had only heard when she spoke to criminals and other villains that had come their way. Well, this is interesting. Who knew Nia had what could only be described as mother issues? That made for a rebellious daughter. And said rebellious daughters tended to be whisked away from their beds by rakes.

“Ah, that’s a shame. I would love to meet your mother. No doubt she’s as charming as you are.”

She laughed. “Oh, I’m sure she’d love you.”

He ignored her jab and pressed on. “And what about friends? Surely, with the way you have convinced these, erm, peculiar individuals to form a group and travel together, you must be drowning in social invitations.” Hopefully some of those friends were rich and all powerful.

Nia shyly put a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, her braids danced in the sudden gust of wind. “Believe it or not, I’m quite introverted.”

That was quite the surprise. “Really? You’re so noisy I would’ve thought otherwise.”

“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, Astarion.”

“Well, darling, look at this camp,” he said, gesturing to their companions who were all minding their business inside their respective tents. “We barely tolerate each other, and yet, we’re all positively charmed by you. It takes skill to get us to open up. Though I had pinpointed you as being reserved, hence this conversation.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I usually don’t enjoy being around others, unless it’s imperative for me to do so.”

“I guess our current situation makes it imperative for you to socialize.”

“Indeed. And I imagine it’s the opposite for you. You seem like the life of the party.”

Oh, if you only knew.

“But this isn’t about me,” Astarion said, turning the conversation back to what he was eager to know, “it’s about you. So, spill.”

She thought about it for a moment. “I guess some of my colleagues could count as friends. My only true friend doesn’t live in Baldur’s Gate. They prefer to stay hidden in their state a few hours away from the city.”

Nia had given him the most boring answer in the world.

“And?”

“And I suppose some of the people I’ve met in my previous travels could be considered friendly acquaintances, but no one I’m particularly close to.”

Oh, she was a loner indeed. There would be no reward waiting for him it seemed.

“How do you even spend your days?” Astarion blurted out, feeling exasperated.

His words made Nia chuckle. “With my head stuck in books. I haven’t had this much excitement since… well, I honestly don’t think I’ve ever had this much adventure.”

“Clearly.”

“It might be a boring life, but at least I wasn’t fighting for my life every single day. And I do miss my bed.”

So, in the end Nia had shared a big fat nothing and the things he knew about her were as inconsequential as the others he’d known before.

1. High Elf
2. Wizard
3. Baldurian
4. Blood like wine
5. Works at the academy
6. Hates her mother
7. No friends

Why had he even bothered having this conversation if her life was this insipid, Astarion wondered. He knew Nia was cryptic on purpose. Despite her words, she didn’t trust him fully. Deep down he was glad she wasn’t that obtuse, otherwise he would’ve questioned their collective wisdom. Even so, it frustrated him to no end. There must have been something else about Nia. Something about her life, small details that would help him piece her together. Thankfully, not everything was lost, for there was an angle he hadn’t yet tried.

“With such a full life,” sarcasm dripped from his voice, “I imagine there are no lovers in the picture.”

At that, her calm expression changed. It was almost imperceptible. Certainly, someone like Gale wouldn’t have noticed it, but Astarion was an expert at reading people. Something shifted in her eyes. Her heartbeat changed.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Her reply appeared to be innocuous while hiding something.

“Ah, so there is a lover moving heaven and earth to find you somewhere in Baldur’s Gate,” he said, gesturing dramatically.

Her eyes were downcast at his words, as if they’d hurt her somehow. “I wouldn’t say that either.” She coughed and played with her hands, all nervous habits of hers.

“Well, which is it, darling? Lover or no lover?”

A straight answer needed a straight question.

“I… there are no lovers… currently, but there have been. In the past. Just not now.” Nia stammered, tripping all over her words, as if having this conversation made her want to rip all her nails from her fingers. “Not for the past five years at least.”

“And here I thought you were still a maiden,” Astarion joked, easing the mood. He wasn’t going to let her realize he had ulterior motives.

“Wouldn’t you like to know that,” she haughtily replied.

Oh. But he did. Now he knew she wasn’t a maiden, among other interesting things, like the fact she’d been a celibate for half a decade. His mind started buzzing with this information. Old habits kicked in as he leant down towards her.

“Whatever the case, I’m still probably more experienced and could teach you a thing or two, if you’d like,” he said, his voice sultry, almost a whisper in her ear. He felt her shiver against his shoulder as he brushed against her.

Her cheeks flushed once more. “I doubt anyone here in camp is more experienced than you.” She steered the conversation out of dangerous territory into something light-hearted. Astarion pouted.

“Oh, they definitely aren’t, my dear. I doubt Gale could hold a candle to me.”

“Why do you keep bringing up Gale?” She asked so innocently he had to snort.

“No particular reason. I’m just saying that for bed related matters, I’m your man.”

His eyes bore into Nia’s on purpose, making the elf squirm.

“Well, if that kind of knowledge ever becomes a necessity, I’ll come to you right away.” Her voice was a tone higher, and her heart raced against her ribcage.

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” His voice dropped an octave as he once again whispered in her ear.

Nia just stared at him, dazed, as he smiled predatorily at her. He was delighted to see her become so affected by him.

“This conversation has been most enlightening, darling, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to go hunting,” he suddenly said, catching her off guard.

“Oh, yes of course. It was… ah… it was nice talking to you.”

“It was my pleasure, Nia.” He let her name roll off his tongue in a sultry thrall that made her breath catch in her throat.

With that, he left her, hot and bothered.

For the first time, his innuendos had worked like a charm on her.

Now he knew what he needed to do.

Despite everything, Nia was quite simple to get. For whatever reason, she kept her true desires hidden and placated. Whatever her story was, she craved intimacy but rejected it. Which was why she was so comfortable flirting back with him. She read it as a joke between the two of them. But the moment he pushed a bit further, she didn’t know what to do with it. Did she feel genuinely attracted to him? Hard to know. Even if she didn’t, it wouldn’t take long to seduce her. To show her exactly what she’d been missing. That would be his angle. Not unlike the rest of his victims. But it would be different this time. No, not for one night. For as many as it took. And, like an expert hunter, Astarion would take his time to snare her until she couldn’t escape him anymore.

Patience, he thought to himself, patience, and soon she’ll be wrapped around your little finger.

Let the games begin.

Chapter Text

Astarion soon found he had severely underestimated how easy it would be to seduce Nia. Yes, he had been able to fluster her before, but since then nothing he did had worked. He still flirted with her, added more pet names to call her, made himself readily available to go with her on different adventures; hells, he even petted the mutt in her vicinity. Nothing. She just smiled at him, amethyst eyes shining under the sun, and carried on as always. She was just so infuriating. It didn’t help she gave the same smiles to everyone in camp. Brunhilde, Karlach, Wyll and Shadowheart, he could understand. But Gale? Why was she even so excited to talk to him? Oh yes. Both were bookworms who liked to look over scrolls in the evenings. Nia never asked him what he read, and Astarion was sure he knew more than Gale after an eternity of living.

He glared at her as she laughed with Karlach, unaware of how uncooperative she had been these past few days. Astarion half wished he had the ability of hypnosis to snare her faster. However, another part of himself was getting excited at the prospect of a true hunt. After nearly two hundred years of reciting the same script over and over, his seductions had grown stale. He knew he could have anyone he wanted at any time. There was no thrill to it. Nia was different. Perhaps, deep down, she understood she was his prey and had decided not to make it any easier on him. Or she was just that oblivious of what he wanted from her. In any case, Nia was making him work for it.

Suddenly, she noticed his gaze and turned to look at him. She smiled so brightly Astarion was momentarily blinded. Nia waved goodbye to Karlach and made her way towards him.

“There you are,” she said, sitting down next to him outside of his tent.

“Yes, like always. Did you need something?” He pretended to observe his nails, as if he hadn’t been willing her to come the entire evening.

“Actually, yes.” A grin appeared on her face, which only raised suspicion.

“What do you want?” Astarion asked, taken aback by her glee.

Nia didn’t answer. She opened her bag and took out a brown package.

“Here, for you.”

Astarion accepted it, dumbfounded. No one had given him anything since he had been turned into a vampire. Curiosity got the better of him, and he immediately opened the package. Inside he saw new Thieves’ Tools, shining under the setting sun. Well, this was definitely unexpected as his first gift in two centuries.

“I found them today, thought you could give them a better use than I,” she explained, filling in his silence. She was still smiling.

“I’ve seen you try to open locks, darling,” Astarion said, regaining his composure, “you would’ve just wasted these precious tools.”

He couldn’t resist messing with her after her little surprise. His words earned him an adorable pout.

“If you don’t want them, I can give them to someone else.”

“No, these are mine now. You gave them to me. You can’t take them back,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

“Glad you liked them. But that’s not all.”

“What?” He mumbled, surprised once more.

Nia swiftly produced a bow from inside her bag and dropped it on his lap. For the second time in the day, Astarion was rendered speechless. It was a beautiful bow. It had leaves delicately carved onto the wood, which he traced with his fingers. The bow seemed sturdy, and the string was of very high quality. Nia could have received a pretty coin for it, no doubt. But, somehow, she had decided to gift it to him. Not Gale, or Wyll, or Karlach, or Shadowheart or Brunhilde or even Lae’zel. Him. Something shifted inside his chest. It was warm and it twisted around his dead heart. Astarion felt bile in his throat.

“Darling,” he rasped, “it’s… are you sure you don’t want it?”

“This bow suits you more than the one you have,” Nia said, gesturing to the bow in his lap. She was smiling at him in a way that made him want to hate her. “Besides, I’m no good with the bow and arrow.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow at her admission, “But you’re an elf! You should know how to shoot.”

“Gods, you sound like my father,” she said it in jest, but something in her voice betrayed a sadness behind her words. “I’m just better with a sword.” It was true that for some reason she decided to carry a longsword around. Surprising that she even had the strength to use it given her lithe body.

“But a bow and arrow allow you to keep your distance, which is why I seldom get hurt in battle.” He was deflecting, he knew, anything to keep the conversation moving and away from whatever feeling had spread inside of him.

She snorted, “that’s what my magic is for.” Nia raised her arms and wiggled her fingers as in demonstration.

“And what happens when you run out of spells?”

Nia opened her mouth, yet no words came out. She knew he had a point. Astarion had seen the wizard in battle. One of them needed to always watch her back, lest she got incapacitated. It’d happened before, when the battles were longer and so gruesome, she had to use most of her spells. Instead of staying back, she’d go and fight with her sword, which usually resulted in her ending up hurt by the end. That wouldn’t do. Astarion needed Nia alive if she was to protect him.

“Come now,” he said, getting up and grabbing his new bow and his quiver.

“Where?” She asked, scrambling to follow him.

“To the clearing. It’s the perfect place to practice shooting. You’re long overdue an archery lesson.”

Nia walked beside him in silence. Astarion was aware her mind was filled with a thousand questions, although she had decided not to voice any of them out loud. He wouldn’t be able to give her a proper response, even if she were to use the tadpole on him. Truth be told he wasn’t sure what had spurred on this impromptu lesson. He was not much of a teacher. Lacked the patience for it. Yet, he felt like he needed to do it.

They walked until they reached the clearing. They wouldn’t disturb anyone over there. Astarion turned to look at Nia, who stared at him with suspicion.

“Oh, relax, my dear. If I wanted to eat you, I would’ve done so a long time ago.”

“I’m not scared of you,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know. This seems out of character for you.”

“Oh, darling, you’ll soon realize I’m nothing if not full of surprises,” he said with a dramatic gesture, earning a chuckle from her.

“Alright, I can see you’re excited about this and I’m becoming intrigued. I’ll be your student for the day, Professor Astarion.”

Astarion smiled so wide he showed his fangs. “Excellent, you won’t regret it. So, let’s begin. What do you know about shooting?”

“That I’m terrible at it and I’d rather use a fire bolt,” she answered with a deadpan.

He tutted. “If you want to hunt for your dinner, what will you do with a burnt duck?”

“Eat it crisp. Burning it will save me all the cooking time.”

Astarion flicked his tongue in annoyance. “Come on, darling, take this seriously.”

Nia sighed. “Fine, I’ll humour you. But watch out, I could very easily hurt you.”

“In that case, you’ll just have to nurse me back to health with some of that precious sweet blood of yours.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “What will you have me do?”

“First, take the bow. I want to watch your form.”

Nia did as he asked. She took the bow from his outstretched hand and walked towards a tree. She assumed the shooting position with her back towards him. Astarion looked her over. It was clear she’d had archery lessons before. A given, considering she was a high elf. No elf parent would let their elven child reach adulthood without knowing at least the basics of bows and swords. But her body seemed unsure, as if she hadn’t done this in a long time.

“Your footwork is all wrong,” he noted, more as an observation rather than scolding. “And you’re unbalanced,” he said, flicking her in the arm and causing her to trip.

“See, I’m terrible at this already,” Nia said. She tried to appear unbothered, but Astarion could clearly hear the anxiety in her voice.

“Nonsense. You’re merely starting. How long has it been since you last shot an arrow?”

She thought for a moment. “Since I was sixteen.”

“And how long ago that was?”

“Decades,” she said. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

He chuckled. “That I did. You’re just rusty, my dear. You only need some of my assistance.”

“Of course, Professor Astarion.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he said as he walked close to her.

“I’d enjoy it a bit more if we were doing something else,” she replied.

She’d left herself open for teasing. It would be oh so easy to mumble double entendres, but he decided against it. He didn’t wish to ruin the moment. “Oh shush, I bet you’re going to become an enthusiast in no time,” Astarion muttered, close to her ears.

Nia’s breath hitched as he delicately touched her shoulders.

“Don’t slouch. Your back needs to be straight,” he said. Nia did not speak. Silently, she did as he told her. “Now, keep your feet shoulder-width apart. Yes. There we go. To avoid tripping, your back foot should be slightly forward.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. Great job, darling. How does it feel? Is it comfortable?”

Nia smiled at him. “Yeah, it feels better than before.”

“This should always be your stance. With practice, it shall become natural to you.”

“Is it natural to you?”

“More than breathing,” he replied.

Nia snorted. “That’s because you don’t need to breathe.”

“Well, now you know how natural it is for me. Like second nature.”

She nodded.

She went through the motions a few times until Astarion was satisfied.

“Next, we’ll practice nocking the arrow,” he announced.

“What’s that?”

“You seriously don’t know anything about shooting, do you?” Astarion said with frustration.

Nia shook her head, as she smiled impishly at him. “No. Regretting teaching me already?”

He scoffed. “You’ll find I have the patience of a saint.”

“Sure, you do.”

“As I was saying,” Astarion continued, ignoring her sarcasm, “nocking the arrow means putting the arrow on the bow string.”

“Oh, of course.”

Astarion watched in silence as Nia struggled to nock the arrow. He observed as she put it on all the wrong places and kept aiming everywhere except the target. At one point, the arrow was aimed directly at his crotch.

“Stop, stop,” he said, “before you injure us both.” He took the bow and arrow from her.

Nia blushed in embarrassment. “Sorry,” she said, voice small and fragile, like a scolded child. It made something turn inside him. He was reminded of himself.

Astarion sighed. What in the hells had he gotten into? “Maybe a direct approach will be best. Allow me to demonstrate.” He stood in front of a tree that he decided would be the perfect target. “First, make sure you’re holding and pointing the arrow towards your target. Then, place the nock at the nocking point, which is this marked area on the string.”

“I see,” she said as she watched him.

“When it’s in place, you can draw and anchor the bow. Aim as accurately as possible, and then…” He released the string. The arrow hit its mark as always. He turned around to face Nia, a witty quip dying on his lips as he saw her expression. She looked at him in wonder, cheeks pink under the afternoon sunlight. She even clapped. Astarion felt as if he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him. He coughed. “Do you wish to try?”

Nia came closer, her hands shaking. “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you.”

He preened under her compliment. “It only takes patience, my dear, and a whole lot of practice.”

He had her practicing nocking the arrow on the correct place for a while, until she finally succeeded on the first try. As she practiced, Astarion had noticed someone was spying on them. He bit back a snicker. He’d realized he had some competition in camp for Nia’s attention. No matter. He’d show them he was the better option. It was time to kill two birds with one arrow.

“I believe you’re ready for the next part,” he announced loudly, as much for Nia as for their unexpected spectator.

“Really?” She adorably said, eyes sparkling with innocence.

“Yes, nock the arrow again, darling.” She did as asked. “Yes, right there.” His voice dripped with innuendo, which was more for their unwanted visitor than for Nia. Not that she noticed, so focused was she on her task. He moved to be positioned just behind her. “Now, be a dear and grip the handle. Don’t squeeze it too hard, it’s sensitive. Yes, like that.” Astarion pressed his chest to her back, earning a soft gasp. “Raise the bow until your arm is parallel to the ground and draw the string back.” He gently grabbed her shooting arm and pulled it back. “Now all you need to do is aim and release,” he said in her ear, lips dangerously close to her own. She shuddered.

Nia turned her face around, eyes searching his. “Astarion,” she mumbled. His lips moved closer to hers, arms settling on her hips, pulling her against him. The abrupt motion caused her to move the bow towards the sky, and her shooting hand faltered, releasing the arrow in an instant. It flew into the sky and vanished as it fell into the canopy of trees. Not that Astarion cared, the two of them were lost in each other’s eyes. Just one more inch and then he’d capture her lips with his. Seconds later, they heard a yelp coming from behind the trees. The spell faded away. Nia broke their eye contact.

“What was that?” She asked, pulling away from him. “Oh, shit. I released the arrow too early. I’m so sorry, Astarion. I’ll get you a new one.”

The vampire spawn bit back a groan. “No worries, darling. You’ve just given me a rather elegant bow. I can forgive the loss of one meagre arrow.”

He walked to his quiver and pulled out a new one. “Care to try again?”

Nia nodded eagerly.

They spent what was left of the sunlight shooting more arrows at trees. Despite the interruption, Astarion could admit he was having fun. Nia made for good company, and she was a fast learner. In no time, she was hitting her marks. He felt something akin to pride. It was a foreign emotion, if he was honest. He was used to living with fear, to experiencing anger when he looked at Cazador, feeling disgusted at himself after bedding another victim to take to his master. He may have been conceited, but vanity didn’t make him feel anything positive. This, whatever it was, did. When Nia giggled after finally hitting a target, and her eyes shone with unbridled happiness, Astarion felt like he had a purpose. That he was good at something after all.

“Thank you for teaching me,” she said. “You’re actually a great teacher.”

He pushed the feeling out of his mind as quickly as it came. It wouldn’t do him any good to become sentimental all of a sudden. “I told you all you needed was practice, darling.”

“And an excellent tutor.”

“That too.”

Just as the sun began to set, Astarion made use of his new bow and shot a few ducks for dinner, figuring Nia deserved some sort of prize for indulging his whims today. She was grateful and continued praising him as they made their way back into the camp.

“You’re going to make my ego much bigger, you know?” he said, a true smile gracing his lips.

“I don’t think that’d be any possible,” she shot back with a laugh.

Astarion shook his head at her. Deep down, he was disappointed they hadn’t kissed. He’d been so close. But progress was still progress. There would be more opportunities, he was sure. At least he now knew Nia wouldn’t be opposed to having his lips on hers. He felt that the day was not entirely lost.

“Look what Astarion hunted for us,” Nia announced to their companions.

The rogue raised an eyebrow at them. Karlach and Wyll sat close to the fire, grinning at each other, as if sharing a joke only the two got. Lae’zel stayed back in her tent, frowning more than usual. Brunhilde played with Scratch at the far back. She appeared to be avoiding something. And then, they heard it. A scream coming from Gale’s tent.

“Stop moving,” Shadowheart’s voice grumbled from inside the tent.

“Well, what am I supposed to do? It hurts,” Gale complained, his voice straining in pain.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t taken a detour in the woods,” the cleric admonished before doing something that caused Gale to yelp.

“What happened?” Nia asked Wyll and Karlach, who renewed their cackling.

“Gale apparently went hunting,” Wyll informed them, “and then─” he continued laughing.

Karlach wiped away tears from her eyes. “He came back with an arrow stuck in his arse.”

Nia choked, probably realizing how Gale had ended up in this situation.

“Pathetic,” they heard Lae’zel muttered, as yet another scream and cursing came from inside the tent.

Astarion joined in their laughter, mirth in his eyes.

Today was better than expected. He’d gotten gifts for the first time in his immortal life, he’d gotten closer to Nia furthering his plans, and that idiot Gale had gotten hurt to boot. Oh, his life was finally turning around. How he enjoyed being free. He didn’t want these days to ever end. He’d do anything in his power to keep this newfound freedom of his, he realised.

He looked at Nia.

Yes, anything.

Chapter Text

Nothing in his life could ever be easy, it was a truth Astarion had quickly learnt upon becoming a vampire. The tadpole situation had made him forget for a brief time. But just as his life was turning around, he was reminded he wasn’t free. Not truly. Cazador was looking for him, had been sending Gur, of all people, after him. Well, he thought looking at the corpse, now there’s one less Gur in the world, the damned bastards. He then turned to Nia, who had grown pale. She hadn’t wanted to kill the man; she never did want to kill any of their humanoid enemies. They hadn’t had much choice on the matter, though. The Gur had found out what he was and although Nia had attempted to convince him to let Astarion go, it hadn’t worked out. It was kill or be killed, something Nia needed to learn soon.

Brunhilde and Lae’zel had made themselves scarce after the battle had finished, the two searching the man’s bags. Perhaps this monster hunter carried valuable items with him. Not that Astarion felt like looting. His mood was soured. He tried to control his shaking, but it was futile. He just wanted to go. Return to camp, lick his wounds, and plan what to do next. Their day wasn’t supposed to go this way. They were meant to find Auntie Ethel and discover what she knew about the worms in their heads. Perhaps buy from her a potion or two. That damned Gur had put a wrench on their plans. Astarion cursed him and glared at the corpse. At least he wouldn’t be able to hurt him now. He glanced at Nia then, who knelt and closed the man’s eyes, the last act of kindness the monster hunter would ever know.

“Thank you,” he whispered. The words flowed from him unbidden before he could stop them. A myriad of emotions swirled inside him, each one more upsetting than the last.

“What for?” Nia asked, standing back up. Her voice came out in a rasp, eyes glassy. She’d given the Gur the killing blow and was still clearly reeling about it.

“You could’ve given me to him. You didn’t need to hurt him. So, thank you, for protecting me.” He was still surprised. He wondered about her. How she had fed him, instead of killing him. How she had chosen to kill the monster hunter, even when she hated murder. Time and time again, she chose the hardest path. For him. It made no sense. It frightened him. More than Cazador even. Surely there was something she wanted in return for her help. No one could be that selfless.

“I would’ve never given you up to him,” she said with conviction, her fists clenching. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He blinked, surprise overcoming his features for a moment.

Friends.

Astarion had never had any friends. The other vampire spawn were his brothers and sisters, yes, but theirs was a relationship forged in blood. Out of necessity. Easily breakable if one were to betray their master. The idea of caring about anyone other than himself was alien to him. And this companionship was formed by chance. By the sheer coincidence of all of them having been kidnapped and taken to that ship. Once the parasites were removed, all of them would go their merry way. Perhaps, they would become enemies. Or, most likely, they would all forget about each other. Yet, here was Nia, innocently believing they were friends. It infuriated him.

“I suppose we are,” he answered instead, biting his tongue. It wouldn’t do to offend her now. To burst her bubble about the nature of their relationship. He just wanted to use her. Was on his way to seducing her to further his goals. She probably wanted to use him too in some way. He suddenly felt nauseous.

Nia looked at him with all knowing eyes. He felt scrutinized under her gaze. It was like she knew all his terrible, dark secrets. He waited for the strike of her palm, for her sword to impale him. The blow never came. She smiled instead, a weary sort of smile, and nodded.

“Let’s return to camp. Auntie Ethel will have to wait another day.”

Astarion could have kissed her feet. It was as if she’d read his mind. He couldn’t bear to be there any longer. It was taking every bit of his self-control to stop himself from running away.

“We came all this way just to go back?” Lae’zel complained, snarling at Nia. Astarion frowned.

It was no secret in camp that the githyanki barely tolerated their leader. Unlike him, she always made it known she disapproved of Nia’s acts of mercy. Lae’zel disapproved of everyone, really. But it had offended her the entire group had chosen Nia instead of her. Such grievances hadn’t been forgiven nor forgotten. Not that Astarion cared. He just wanted to leave and Lae’zel was making things difficult. He glared at her, but the gith ignored him.

“We’re hurt and tired, and there’s still a long way to go,” Nia said. Her voice turned harsh, showing her patience was running thin.

“I mean, if you want to keep going, be my guest.” He decided to interject. He didn’t want to be stuck in the woods any longer, where more Gur could be waiting for him. “I’m sure you and Brunhilde will have a nice time out here with all these beasts.”

“Let’s just go back, like Nia suggested,” the half-orc intervened before things got ugly. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

“Tas’ki. Fine,” Lae’zel spat and started stomping back to camp.

Nia sighed but then gave him a grateful smile. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go.”

“Could you please stand farther back, you’re covering all the sunlight,” Astarion grumbled from his stool outside his tent.

Shadowheart groaned. “I just came to see if you were hurt after your little encounter with the Gur.”

“I’m not. I’m too fast to get hurt. Now go away, I’m reading.” Astarion shooed the cleric away with a hand motion.

“Fine. But if you need healing, go annoy someone else,” Shadowheart replied, offended by the vampire. She then walked towards Nia’s tent. “Don’t even bother with him tonight. He’s in a foul mood.”

Yes, Nia had noticed.

It was fair to say that Astarion was brooding.

In the few days she had known him, Nia had realized Astarion’s humour was as variable as the weather. He could be having a grand time and just as easily he could turn spiteful. She could hear the acidity in his jabs, even when the words themselves were supposed to be flirtatious. He despised their company, and yet he sought it. His changes in disposition annoyed the rest of their companions to no end. Shadowheart particularly had little patience for him. Nia, however, felt a strange sense of kinship towards him. Behind the false smiles and saccharine words filled with poison, the true Astarion hid, protected and safe from the rest of the world. She too had carefully built walls around herself. Never letting anyone close enough to know her. To hurt her. Perhaps he was the same. Perhaps flirting was the only way Astarion knew how to express himself, just as she delighted in helping others. He'd lived a miserable existence, he’d told her. Trapped in Cazador Szarr’s lair, forced to bring victims to his master, suffering the consequences of his cruelty, consuming the blood of rats and other vermin. He had starved for nearly two hundred years. Her heart filled with compassion just thinking about it. Although he hid behind compliments and lies, every once in a while, he let the truth slip. His mask had fallen today.

Nia was aware their encounter with the Gur had agitated him. It had shaken her too. Knowing that Astarion’s old master wasn’t a faraway threat frightened her. If what the vampire spawn had told her was true, Cazador Szarr would do anything in his power to get his slave back. And, according to Astarion, his powers had very few limitations. Nia trembled at the thought. If she was feeling like this, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like for him. Resolute, she devised a plan to make him feel better.

“Could I borrow your bow and a few arrows?” She asked Brunhilde, who was cleaning up from their previous fight.

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know how to use them? I’ve never seen you shoot.”

“I’ve been learning,” she said, more sheepishly than she had intended.

“I see,” Brunhilde said, her gaze lingering on her neck where the bite mark was still visible. “Why do you need them for?”

“Hunting,” she merely answered. She tried to seem nonchalant about it, but she realized the half-orc had read her intentions, as her eyes narrowed towards Astarion’s tent.

“Well, happy hunting. Let me know if you need any help,” was all Brunhilde said, giving her the bow.

Nia felt her cheeks burn. She wanted to explain herself, to make it clear this was a friendly gesture, and not whatever Brunhilde was thinking of. Nevertheless, she decided against it when her friend gave her an earnest smile. She took the bow, gave her a quick thank you, and took off.

The woods were filled with the sounds of birds and other critters chirping about. It was calming. Nia was a city girl and though she’d had some missions in the forest, she wasn’t accustomed to roughing it in the great outdoors. Hunting, until a few days ago, was a mystery to her. Oh, her father had attempted to teach her several times when she was a child. He was a remarkable marksman. Quite adept with the sword too. And an incredible wizard. Everything a high elf should be. Nia, on the contrary, had her head up in the clouds most of the time. Her fancies shifted with every change of season and, back then at least, she couldn’t have cared less about studies of any kind. She’d been a terrible student. A constant headache for her parents. It was a miracle she’d turned into a scholar and had learnt how to wield a sword.

“How are you going to hunt if you don’t learn how to shoot?” Her father had asked her one day she’d ditched her shooting lessons to play.

“I won’t ever need to,” she’d declared with petulance, earning a severe scolding from her father after that. She had believed it’d always be like that. That she’d never need to fend for herself. She’d had no intention of living outside Baldur’s Gate. She’d imagined herself as a noble man’s wife with servants at her beck and call, while she was free to follow her fancies, whatever they might be. If only her father could see her now, he’d die laughing at his rebellious daughter going around the woods, trying to hunt rabbits or whatever else she could find to feed a sulky vampire.

Nia knew she was being ridiculous. If she wanted to feed him, it would be easier to offer Astarion her neck. Something told her, though, that the man didn’t want any company at all. Not even hers and her “delectable blood,” as he’d called it. She didn’t wish to offend him or cross him. So, here she was, struggling to find an animal to kill. A boar or a deer would be too difficult to hunt given her current skills. She didn’t know if she’d be fast enough for a rabbit or duck. There were not many animals she could hunt. Nor many she could see. Perhaps she should’ve brought Scratch along. He was a better hunter. But she didn’t want any of the blood to go to waste. No. She would have to make do with what she had.

After much walking, Nia finally found a rabbit. It sniffed the air and barely hopped about, munching on plants. Perfect. As quietly as possible, she adopted the stance Astarion had taught her and fired an arrow. The rabbit was faster and ran out of the way. “Fuck,” she cursed. Picking up the fallen arrow, she carried on until she found many more rabbits. More arrows were shot. None hit their mark, except one, which impaled a cute rabbit with honey-like fur. Nia’s tender heart twisted inside her. She had to remind herself it was for a good cause. For her friend. She picked up the body gently and looked thoroughly at it. She broke the arrow to keep as much blood inside as possible. Then, she wrapped it with a cloth she’d brought before putting it inside her bag. It wasn’t much. Perhaps she could find another one. The elf snatched up the rest of the arrows and kept walking. She kept trying to shoot at any critter she saw, but she failed at every turn.

“That’s it,” she muttered, fed up with her own incompetence at something that should be second nature to her kind. No matter. She was a wizard, so she would act like one. She conjured her Mage Hand when she found more rabbits and used it to grab one, a grey one. The hand broke its neck and delivered the prey straight to her. She carried the slumped down body of the rabbit and checked it, confirming it was indeed dead, and no blood had been dropped. “This will have to suffice,” she declared. She wrapped it with a second cloth and put it with the other one.

When she was satisfied with her hunting, the sun had almost completely set. If she’d been a human, returning to camp would’ve been nearly impossible. It was good, then, her elven vision facilitated her trek back. As she walked towards camp, her hands felt clammy, and her heart pounded against her ribcage. She suddenly felt foolish. Would Astarion even care or appreciate her actions? Hard to know with how difficult the man could be. He never made things easier for her. Nia had to question why she even went to such lengths for him. Hunting rabbits for him was one thing, but giving him her blood? Killing for him? She’d never been that unselfish, never mind what her companions thought of her. She just did not understand her own actions. She was far away from her element, from her books and scrolls and quills and candles. Far from the bustling city and its commodities. Fighting for her life almost daily, accompanied by a ragtag team of misfits who had more secrets and trauma than anyone Nia had ever met in her life. Why did she care? She’d never cared this much about anyone since… better not go there. Not tonight.

She sighed in relief once the camp came into view. All was normal. Gale was cooking dinner while Wyll cut the vegetables. Karlach started a fire and began retelling her adventures in Avernus to an engaged Shadowheart, who was busy making more potions for them. Lae’zel sat close to the fire, polishing her armour in the company of Brunhilde, who was making more arrows for herself. Scratch barked excitedly once he saw her, wagging his tail and heading towards her for a pet. They were all there. All except one.

“How did it go?” Brunhilde was the first to ask her.

“Worse than expected,” was her sincere reply. Her friend gave her a sympathetic smile.

“You’ll get better with practice.”

Nia nodded half-heartedly and let her eyes fall on the vampire’s tent, which was closed. “Thank you for the bow. I had to break an arrow, lost a few others. I’ll get you more, I promise.”

Brunhilde took the arrows and bow in her hands. “No worries. I’d thought this could happen, so I’m making more.”

Lae’zel snorted. “She had little faith in you,” she said, never looking up as she continued to polish her armour.

The half-orc glared at her and then looked at Nia apologetically. “What I meant to say is that when you hunt is perfectly normal to lose arrows.”

“Right,” Nia said, eyes straying once more to the tent. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s something I need to do.”

“But don’t be late, dinner is almost ready,” Gale said, interjecting for the first time.

“I promise to be back,” she said, and waving, she left towards Astarion’s tent.

Her pointed ears prickled as she managed to hear their whispering from behind her.

“Do you think he’ll even let her inside the tent?” It was Shadowheart. She sounded worried.

“For a nibble of her neck, he might,” Wyll replied with a chuckle.

Gale sighed. “As long as blood’s the only thing he takes.”

Karlach laughed. “What? Are you jealous, Gale?”

“Of Astarion? Never.”

“Sure.”

“Still, Nia looked serious, and you know how Astarion is.” That was Shadowheart again.

“Prickly?” Karlach suggested.

“Moody?” That was Wyll again.

“A complete jerk?” Gale added.

“I was going to say closed off, but all those work.”

Lae’zel snorted again. “You worry too much about that pair of elves. They’ll figure it out. Perchance in a bloody battle where they’ll fight each other to the bitter end. My coin is on Astarion.”

“Alright, enough speculation,” Brunhilde said. “Let’s let them be. I don’t think Astarion would ever hurt her. Not intentionally at least.”

“If you’re sure,” Shadowheart answered.

Nia tuned them out. She didn’t appreciate them gossiping about her actions. It wasn’t like she was doing anything salacious. She was just bringing dinner to a friend. That was it. And she wasn’t that frail either. She could take whatever harsh words Astarion threw her way. He was never that mean to her. Sarcastic? Yes. But not malicious. There was nothing she needed to worry about. Except, maybe the vampire chucking the rabbits at her. She could deal with that.

She stood outside his tent, realizing it’d be tough to ask for permission when it was impossible to knock on the non-existent door. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Astarion? May I come in?”

There was some shuffling inside. Silence. Then a sigh. “What do you want?” The words came with less bite than she’d expected.

“I want to give you something.”

That was enough of a hook for him. There was more shifting from inside, and then Astarion pried the tent open. “What is it?”

“Can we do this in private?” Nia said, motioning with her head to their eavesdropping companions.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I suppose you may come in if you must.”

Huh. That was new. She had figured he’d resort to more flirting. She’d left that door open with her wording, unintentionally as it were. Well, maybe they could have an honest conversation for a change.

She followed him inside, the tent smelling of bergamot, rosemary and a bit of brandy. Just like he did. It was… comforting. She sat on the floor while Astarion went back to his mountain of pillows. He was quiet. He looked bored, though she could tell that was just a front. He seemed unsure of her. Of what she wanted.

“So, why are you here?” He said after a few moments of silence, picking at his nails. “Have you come to collect your reward for killing the Gur? For sharing your blood?” His voice was laced with venom as he gestured towards his body, his intended meaning becoming clear to her. “Or for both?” He sneered.

“What?” She blurted out. “No!” Nia felt horrified. Had this been his life before the tadpoles? She knew Cazador tortured him. Made him bring victims to him. In her mind, she had imagined beatings and other horrible things done to Astarion’s body. She hadn’t thought his mistreatment would have been sexual in nature as well. “I’d never do that!” She hastily added when she noticed he was unconvinced.

“Then why are you here?”

He was still guarded, she could tell. It broke her heart.

“I came to give you these,” she said, opening her bag and putting the wrapped packages on his lap.

“What’s this?” He asked, even though he should have been able to smell the rabbits inside.

“Dinner,” she claimed with a small smile. He raised a singular eyebrow. How he managed to have such groomed eyebrows when he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror was beyond her. “Look, I know the events of the day disturbed you. I get it because I’m still shaken too. You must be hungry. I know I am. And I don’t think you’re in the mood to hunt or be in close proximity to me, but you need to eat. So, this is the best next thing.”

Astarion listened in silence and then, carefully, opened the packages. Nia had no doubt he could tell she had clumsily shot one and broken the other’s neck. He picked one up. The grey one, which was more robust. He gave it a sniff. He seemed to consider his words until he finally spoke.

“Let me get this straight,” he said, “after all that happened today, you went out to the woods and hunted these, for me?”

She nodded. “That’s what friends are for.”

He scoffed. “Funny thing you are. Being friendly to a vampire.”

“Well, you’ve been friendly to me too,” Nia half-muttered, discouraged. “You ask me about myself, taught me how to shoot arrows, you have my back in battles…” She hated how weak her words sounded. How desperate she was of his approval.

“Has the thought ever crossed your mind I might be doing all this for my own benefit?” He said, ironic, voice rough.

Nia flinched at the sound. She had thought about it once or twice after giving him her blood. That his momentary kindness was but a ruse. It didn’t do her any good to keep contemplating such a thing, however. Not when they needed each other to survive. She squared her shoulders and looked at Astarion straight in the eyes.

“Yes. Perhaps you’re just using me for my blood or for something else. Maybe it’s convenient for you to have me close. I may be naïve, but I know this, Astarion, you could’ve killed me, us, at any point in our journey and you haven’t done so. It might be because it’s the best course of action, true. We’re all here because it’s beneficial, not because we like each other. Even so, you’ve confided in me when you didn’t need to. You’ve told me things you haven’t told anyone else in camp. You haven’t said anything to Brunhilde and she’s much stronger than I am. Gale might be a better wizard than me. And Wyll is a literal folktale hero. Whatever it is that you want, they’d be better for it. Then why me? Because, like it or not, you trust me. And trust, Astarion, is the foundation of friendship, more than being agreeable to one another.”

Nia finished her little speech and observed her companion with apprehension. Astarion regarded her with tense eyes. He seemed to mull over her words. Then, he looked down at his lap and stared at the rabbits’ dead eyes. His gaze went back to hers. He gave her a small smile, his normal mask back in place.

“Forgive me, darling,” he said, “I’ve just been on edge after the Gur. That’s… how I died.”

Nia gasped.

“What do you mean?” She hadn’t expected this turn of events.

He sighed. “A band of thugs attacked me, angry about a ruling that I’d handed down as magistrate,” he explained. “They beat me to death’s door when Cazador appeared. He chased them off and offered to save me. To give me eternal life. Given that my choices were ‘eternal life’ or ‘bleed to death on the street’, I took him up on the offer. It was only afterwards I realised just how long ‘eternity’ could be.”

Nia covered her mouth in horror at his story. Her heart broke into a million pieces. She felt the compulsion to hold him, but she stopped herself. “I’m so sorry, Astarion. You didn’t deserve it.”

He waved her off. “Well, now you can surely understand why I’m not fully myself tonight.” She nodded. “I… I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but for as long as I can remember, everyone has wanted something from me. I’m not used to friendliness, not your kind of friendliness at least. I’ve never had any friends. Not ones I can recall anyway. And you, being all sweet and selfless…” He trailed off. “I guess it's hard for me to believe you when you say you don’t have ulterior motives. But you’re right. I do trust you. As foolish as it is, mind you.”

Nia chuckled, feeling relieved.  “For the record, I trust you too.”

“That’s a terrible idea, dear. You’re even more foolish than me.”

“Then we can both be foolish together.”

Astarion laughed. “I suppose we can.”

“Friends?” Nia asked, stretching her hand towards him.

“I guess you’re my favourite travelling companion after all, so that must make us friends,” Astarion replied and shook her hand.

Nia smiled. “Great. Then, I’ll leave you to enjoy your dinner,” she said, gesturing to the rabbits. “Oh, and before I forget, here, take this.” She took a healing potion from her bag and put it in his hand.

“What’s this for?”

“Despite what you told Shadowheart, I know you’re hurt. It might be a nick but better be safe than sorry.”

“Darling, if you keep at it, you’re going to spoil me.” Astarion’s words betrayed honesty. He was in awe. The mask had slipped, if only for a minute.

“Don’t get used to it,” she replied, not wanting to ruin the moment with her sentimentality.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She stood to leave. Her hands reached the entrance, but she went still. “Oh, and Astarion?” He turned to look at her. “I know you’re scared. I’d be terrified in your place. But know this. I won’t let him take you. We’ll find a way to free you from your old master. This time for good.”

Astarion sighed and gave her a bittersweet smile. “I hope you’re right, dear.”

She licked her lips, throat suddenly dry. “And if more monster hunters come our way, we’ll get rid of them. I won’t let them touch you.”

She didn’t spell the true meaning of her words. She didn’t have to. She knew Astarion got what she meant.

“Right,” he whispered. With that, Nia nodded once and left his tent.

She shook thinking about facing Cazador. Her fears, however, didn’t matter, she decided. She wouldn’t let anyone take Astarion. She hadn’t lied when she said they were friends. Alright, maybe it was wistful thinking on her part, but she did think of him, all of them in the group, as her friends. Yes, even Lae’zel with all her grumbling. They were the only ones who knew what it was like to have a worm squirming inside your head, after all. Nia wasn’t used to having friends, or being around people in general, but by Mystra, she’d keep them safe. They had put their trust in her and she’d show them she wouldn’t let them down. If they wanted her to be the hero, she’d play the part to perfection. She twirled her bead necklace on her fingers. That’s what he would’ve done.

Astarion watched in silence as Nia left his tent. He heard her as she approached the rest by the campfire. They greeted her with enthusiasm and invited her to dinner. “Before it becomes colder,” Gale said. He heard them laughing and exchanging stories. Heard the beating of all their hearts as they ate in peace. He, then, looked at the rabbits Nia had graciously hunted for him. They were cold now. She had managed to avoid spilling any of their blood. His stomach growled; he was famished. He always was. He took one, the one with an arrow stuck on it, and admired her handiwork. She’d be a good shooter in no time. A sense of pride overcame him before he could push it down. Trying to ignore these strange feelings, he bit down and felt the animal’s blood fill his mouth. It wasn’t as horrid as a rat, but not nearly as decadent as Nia’s sweet blood.

As he drank, his thoughts swirled inside. He had given Nia an out. He had all but spelt out his plans to her. She had chosen not to heed his words. She was begging him to continue, it felt like. Or it could be that she was cleverer than he gave her credit for and had given her consent. Do it, Astarion. See if you can get me. Oh. He will get her, he thought. He will take her and ruin her for everybody else. Have her entirely at his mercy, begging for him. Doing everything he asks for. Protecting him. And once he’s irrevocably free from his chains… Well, that time was still very far away. He’d probably discard her once she wasn’t useful any longer.

The rabbit’s blood suddenly turned to ashes in his mouth.

But… she was right about one thing.

He did trust her. More than he trusted himself and his impulses.

In another life, they might have been real friends.

In this one, though, she was nothing but his prey.

He bit the second rabbit with more force than necessary and spilt blood all over himself.

Chapter Text

Meeting up with Auntie Ethel would have to wait, Nia had decided. They had used potions and wasted resources on the fight against Gandrel, among other things. They were tired and needed their rest, she’d said. She’d declared, then, a day off while she went to the Emerald Grove for more provisions. Karlach and Wyll had volunteered to go with her and Brunhilde, saying something about assessing the tense situation in the grove. Astarion, for once, was grateful for the respite Nia’s absence would offer. He didn’t want to think about his plans while he still felt tender after his encounter with the Gur. She seemed to understand. She didn’t press for his company and went with the other three, leaving him to laze around in his tent.

Things in camp were as always. Gale talked Shadowheart’s ear off about different spells, while the cleric practiced her own cantrips. Lae’zel remained away from them, in her own tent, sharpening her sword. As for Astarion, he picked up a new book from Nia’s tent and brought it to his own. She’d told him once he could borrow any books he wished, and he’d figured today would a great day to take her up on her offer. This one was a romance novel. His eyes sparkled when he saw it. He hadn’t pegged Nia as someone who’d read that sort of thing. He smirked to himself, thinking he had found one of her salacious readings. Perhaps this one would tell him what kind of thing she enjoyed in the bedroom. With glee, he closed the flaps from his tent and flopped on his pillows. He opened the book, ready to witness all the filth the little elf read in secret, only to gag at how saccharine it was. It was the story of a poor maiden trapped in a tower, and the dashing hero who’d come to her rescue. Sentimental garbage. Did Nia like this sort of thing? He wondered with disappointment as the protagonist swooned from the hero’s antics. It was all so performative, even for his standards. He started flipping through the pages out of sheer boredom. He snorted when the hero waxed poetic about the beauty of the protagonist. “I could do better,” he muttered to himself.

As he read on, however, he became more invested in the plot. It was a slow burn. Despite their glaring desire and feelings for each other, the characters hadn’t even held hands, preferring to pine after one another from a distance. “Blithering fools,” he said, “it’s so obvious they love each other.” They were about to hold hands for the first time ever, when someone barged into his tent, disturbing his reading. Oh, Astarion could’ve murdered whoever had dared to interrupt him, but he stopped his cursing when he saw Nia. She was pale and shaking.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” He felt more concerned than he should, as he observed her trembling lips.

“I need your help,” she answered. “It’s Brunhilde.”

He followed her out of the tent, his curiosity piqued. Outside Karlach paced, panic evident in her face.

“What in the hells is going on?” He asked them.

“Brunhilde is in jail!” Karlach explained, attracting the attention of the rest of their companions, who soon joined them outside his tent.

“What?” Lae’zel blurted out. “What did you say?” She said, stomping over until she was face to face with the barbarian.

“We don’t know how it happened,” Karlach began explaining. “Me and the soldier were talking to Dammon, he’s this sweet blacksmith who believes he can help me with my problem. He was so pleasant and kind, he gave me hope there’s a solution…” The tiefling rambled on, eyes getting a dreamy look to them. Astarion tuned her out, not knowing what the blacksmith had to do with anything.

“Out with it,” Lae’zel interrupted. “What happened to Brunhilde?” She asked, enunciating each word pointedly.

“After trading with Dammon, Wyll told us he saw some of the tieflings taking Brunhilde to a makeshift prison. They claimed she’d been caught stealing things from a dead goblin,” Nia explained.

“That’s preposterous,” Lae’zel said. “Brunhilde would never be caught stealing.”

“I tried talking to them, but they don’t want to free her. Wyll stayed behind to see who he could talk to, to get her out. But at this point, I don’t think talking is an option.”

Astarion was surprised to hear her say that. Nia always tried to take the peaceful approach first and charm her way out of situations. Not that it worked most of the time, but historically, that was always her modus operandi.

“Then what do you suggest?” Shadowheart asked, crossing her arms.

“We need to break her out of prison.”

 “You know,” Astarion said as he and Nia made their way to the Emerald Grove, “I’m surprised.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “About what?”

“I never took you for a person who’d help another one out of prison, no matter how close they were to you,” he explained. “After all, that’s not very lawful of you.”

The wizard rolled her eyes. “I don’t follow all laws blindly, Astarion,” she said. “Especially not arbitrary ones. I believe in a fair system of trials.”

“Still, what you’re planning to do is risky, even for you,” he commented.

“And what do you expect me to do? Leave Brunhilde behind?”

“Oh no, dear. I’m positively delighted that we’re embarking on this journey and that you’ve chosen me to be your partner in crime,” he replied as he laughed. He was having fun already and they hadn’t broken any rules yet.

“You’re the best one at getting out of tricky places after all,” she said. “It helps you have no qualms about doing this.”

Astarion preened under her compliments. “Oh, I’d never say no to you, darling. Much less when you asked me so nicely,” he drawled.

“Don’t get used to it,” she said, but her grin betrayed her words.

“We’ll see.” He grinned right back at her.

Soon, they found themselves in the grove. It was luscious and a reprieve from the woods. Astarion would have liked to come more often if not for all the people who wanted to talk to him. Having conversations was more Nia’s forte. He much rather preferred to read than talk about the weather or other inconsequential things. He also didn’t like how those tieflings and druids looked at him. He stayed close to his companion whenever they went, letting her do all the talking. Sure enough, as soon as they stepped inside, they were bombarded with hellos and offers to trade. Nia smiled politely at all of them, as she guided Astarion to the makeshift prison. He ducked his head, ignoring the traders, the children and the other inhabitants. They made him feel uneasy. Thankfully, they were quick to reach the prison. Wyll was already waiting for them outside.

“I’ve no luck talking to them. The druids don’t want to interfere, and the tiefling guard won’t hear a word I say,” the warlock explained upon greeting them. He sounded frustrated. The man was charming enough that he could have handled this situation. Alas, fortune was not on their side, it would seem.

“So, nothing’s changed,” Nia replied. She rubbed her forehead, stressed. Despite her earlier words, she was holding out hope Wyll would change their minds.

“I’m afraid not.”

“And what exactly did Brunhilde steal?” Astarion asked, intrigued. “Was it worth it?” There must have been good reason why the half-orc had been imprisoned.

“That’s the worst part,” Wyll said. “From what I’ve gathered, she didn’t even manage to steal anything. It doesn’t sound like she wanted to steal either. A tiefling killed a goblin, and Brunhilde was found looking over the body. A couple of children accused her of stealing, and well, it’s very frowned upon in here, so…” he trailed off.

“Oh no,” Nia suddenly exclaimed. “I know what this is about,” she said.

“Well, go on, darling. Don’t leave us in the dark.”

“Brunhilde and I met some of the children earlier while we were buying provisions. One of them pickpocketed a few of my coins. I caught him but let him be. I guess I felt sorry for him. He later tried the same trick on Brunhilde, and well, she harshly scolded him and took back our coins, gaining the ire of the rest. I take it this is their revenge.”

Astarion huffed. All this trouble for some stupid child? Though he couldn’t fault Brunhilde. He would have scolded him too. For getting noticed, that is. What kind of rogue gets caught? 

“Okay, now that we have the context, what are we going to about our ‘little situation’?” He asked, making air quotes as he gestured.

“You will lockpick the cell and we’ll run out of here as fast as we can,” Nia said. “If that fails, we need to find the key to the cell and break her out.”

“Wait,” Wyll said. “That’s what we’re going to do?”

Nia looked at him as if he were stupid. “Well, yes. Why else would I have brought Astarion here?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “Don’t include me in this, that’s a terrible idea. We shouldn’t cause more trouble for the refugees. They’re struggling as is.”

“Then go,” a new voice said from the shadows. Lae’zel stepped out. Astarion had been wondering when she would make her appearance known. The githyanki warrior had been trailing after them since they left camp. “I’ll take over.”

“Lae’zel?” Nia exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew our ‘hero’ here wouldn’t have what it takes for this mission, so I came to help.” Wyll glared at her, seemingly offended by the githyanki’s word choice. Not that Astarion disagreed. As valiant as Wyll was, he tended to follow rules more strictly than the rest. Hells, it had taken Nia intervening for him to realise Karlach wasn’t the devil he believed she was. If it hadn’t been for their leader, the poor tiefling would be dead now.

“Right,” Nia answered. She seemed wary of Lae’zel still. The githyanki kept on disagreeing with her every choice. Except for this one.

“Lead the way,” Lae’zel said, pointing towards the general direction of the prison.

“Then, I’ll see you all back in camp.” Sensing the tension, Wyll said and dashed away, leaving the four behind.

“You know, for someone with the monicker of Blade of Frontiers, he isn’t very brave, is he?” Astarion said, making Nia roll her eyes.

“He’s a coward,” Lae’zel said and then spat on the floor. “Even Nia’s willing to break the law.” The elf’s name sounded like an insult coming from her lips.

Nia sighed.

“Regretting gathering us here already?” He joked, nudging her with his elbow.

“Not yet. Now here’s the plan.”

“Remind me why are you here again?” Astarion muttered as he and Lae’zel hid in the shadows. Nia was distracting the guard, asking questions and batting her eyelashes at him. He almost felt proud. Almost. What he didn’t understand was why Lae’zel needed to come with all her clanky armour.

“If need be, I can smash the cell open. You’re too weak to do it.”

He scoffed. “I’m sorry, I’m a vampire. I’m not weak. I’m just nimble. I’m a rogue, remember?”

“Whatever. Just start moving.”

Astarion cursed Nia in his mind. It would’ve been easier if he’d gone by himself. But no. For whatever reason, Lae’zel wanted to play hero, and their leader had allowed it. He sneaked past Nia and the guard, keeping his grumbles to himself. Behind him, Lae’zel followed, surprisingly quiet for the armour she wore. Once inside, they found no sentinels keeping guard; that was what Nia had been counting on. Brunhilde stood there, holding the cell bars in her hands.

“Well, who do we have here,” he said as a way of greeting.

“Astarion? Lae’zel?” The half-orc said, shock written on her face. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He spoke as he reached the door.

“We’re breaking you out,” Lae’zel added.

“Nia brought us,” Astarion said as he crouched.

Brunhilde’s eyes softened. Then, she frowned. “I don’t know what this cell’s made of, but it won’t budge. I’ve been trying to pry it open since they put me here.”

“Leave it to the expert.”

Astarion pulled out a lockpick and made quick work with it. As charming as Nia was, she wouldn’t be able to keep the guard occupied for long. Using Sleight of Hand, he focused on moving the lockpick, turning it, attempting to find the correct combination. And… nothing. It didn’t open. His lockpick broke.

“Shit,” he cursed. He grabbed another one and did something different. It didn’t work. “What’s wrong with this door?”

“Step out of the way,” Lae’zel said. She took out a maze and began swinging it.

“Wait,” Brunhilde said. It was too late, however. Lae’zel hit the door with it and the metal bars rattled loudly, echoing in the chamber. Astarion had no doubts the whole grove had heard it. To make matters worse, the door did not break.

“Hells,” Astarion whispered before they were surrounded by guards.

 “Let me get this straight, you thought it’d be a good idea to attempt to break out your companion from the cell,” Zevlor said. The guards had brought them to him, asking where they could hold them, given the fact their only cell was currently occupied. The tiefling leader had pinched his nose and rubbed his head. He’d asked the guards to leave them with him for some questioning.

“I asked and got no information on when they’d release Brunhilde,” Nia said, with as much assertiveness as she could muster. Which wasn’t a lot, but it was a start. “As far as I know, she never even got to steal anything. And I wasn’t informed if she was going to receive any due process. A most concerning issue, don’t you think? Particularly after we promised to help you.” Zevlor, to his credit, did look guilty after all that. “You can see why I had to resort to such measures.”

“I am sorry,” he replied. “As you can see, tensions have been running a little high here. Of course, we’re not going to keep your companion here forever.”

“Then when are you going to release her?” Lae’zel demanded.

“Soon, soon. I promise.”

“And us? Are you to incarcerate us as well?” Astarion asked, glaring at the tiefling.

“I’ll turn a blind eye to this given the fact you were unsuccessful.”

The assertion stung more than it should have.

Nia sighed. “I understand that you have your rules, but we do need Brunhilde if we’re to help you. I’m sorry that it had to come to this.”

“I’ll release her tomorrow, I promise,” Zevlor said.

“She better be back at camp by breakfast,” Nia warned him and then left for the exit, her companions one step behind.

“Talk about a bust, am I right?” Astarion said once they were outside, trying to lighten the mood.

“Chk. You were too soft on that tiefling,” Lae’zel complained, glaring at Nia. “I should’ve hit him until he released her.”

“Violence doesn’t solve everything, Lae’zel.”

“Sure, it does.”

“What I don’t understand is how you two failed at opening that door,” Nia wondered out loud.

“Don’t get me started on that lock,” Astarion said. “What is it even made of? It wouldn’t open.”

“The door didn’t even move when I hit it with all my strength,” Lae’zel added. “Perhaps it was fortified with magic.”

“In that case, it would’ve been helpful if a certain wizard had inspected the damned door,” Astarion said wryly.

Nia flinched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d be of any use. I’m weak, remember?”

“You said it, not me,” Lae’zel replied.

“Ah, what’s done is done. Sweet, dear Brunhilde will have to wait until the morrow,” Astarion said, easing the mood.

They finally left the grove, and, to their surprise, they found Brunhilde waiting outside alongside Wyll.

“Oh, there you are,” she said as if she hadn’t been stuck in jail a few minutes before.

“Brunhilde,” Nia greeted her. “How are you outside? And Wyll, when did you come back?”

“And most importantly, how did you break that door?” Astarion asked, feeling self-conscious in the face of his own failure.

“I didn’t,” Brunhilde said matter-of-factly. “I exited from the other side.”

“What?”

The three stared at her in disbelief.

“I broke the wall and then jumped towards the cliffs. I climbed them to the other side and sneaked out of there,” Brunhilde explained.

“A magnificent show of prowess,” Lae’zel recovered first, praising their companion.

Brunhilde scratched the back of her head in embarrassment. “It was nothing. I noticed the hole on the wooden wall after you were gone. I was sure you were going to be taken as prisoners, so I was bidding my time. I’m glad you weren’t though. And then, as I walked around, I accidentally set off a trap. That’s when Wyll came to my aid.”

Wyll smiled. “I felt bad after I left you, and when I returned, I heard all of you’d been taken prisoners. I figured I would help Brunhilde in your stead. But when I went to the prison, she wasn’t in her cell anymore. I heard the explosion and climbed down the cliff to where she was. We sprinted out of there as fast as we could.”

“My hero,” Brunhilde said in jest, slapping Wyll’s back.

Next to Astarion, Lae’zel growled. He briefly wondered what that was about.

“We were reconvening here, planning how to get you three out,” Brunhilde kept explaining. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Zevlor let us go and promised to release you tomorrow,” Nia said. “So, we must go to camp now and I’ll think of something to apologise.”

“You do know I didn’t steal a thing, right?” Their second in command said, grabbing Nia’s shoulder.

“Never doubted you,” the wizard said, giving her friend a dazzling smile.

The sweet moment got interrupted when Astarion heard movement from inside the walls.

“The prisoner has escaped!” Someone yelled in the distance.

“As lovely as this reunion has been, maybe we should make ourselves scarce, what do you say?” Astarion said, ushering them towards the road.

That said, they ran, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Even Lae’zel cackled.

Astarion fell into step with Nia.

“I didn’t expect this day to be filled with such excitement,” he said.

“I’m sorry that I interrupted your day off,” Nia replied, giving him a smile.

Astarion waved her off. “Ah, don’t apologise. You’ve given me something precious.” She gave him a questioning look. “The knowledge that behind that sweet and kind exterior, there’s a little rogue hiding inside you. And a little flirt. What did you tell the guard to keep him so preoccupied with your fine eyes?”

She smirked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He did want to know.

He chuckled. “One day you’re going to tell me all your tricks, and I’m going to use them against you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Astarion laughed again as he ran.

He was finding out that in this newfound freedom, his days were never boring with Nia.

He didn’t wish for these moments to end just yet.

Chapter Text

Astarion read his novel in peace. The camp felt almost serene at this time of day. Gale did his magic tricks outside his tent and wrote some things on a scroll as he muttered to himself. Lae’zel sharpened her sword, she didn’t seem so murderous today. Wyll played with Scratch and threw a stick at the mutt. Yes. There was no fighting. No blood. No mud or other grime. Just peace and quiet. And yet Astarion felt restless. He read the same paragraph over and over, but he couldn’t make sense of the words. Frustrated, he threw the book inside his tent and sighed. Then, he looked up at the sky. It was starting to get dark. He gazed at the woods, ears at the ready to pick out the sound of footsteps. Nothing. Only the chirping of birds could be heard. He frowned. Gale seemed to notice the same thing.

“They’re late, aren’t they?” He said more to himself than to Astarion.

“I’m sure they’re just taking their sweet time exploring. No need to worry,” Wyll replied gently, still playing with Scratch, who barked with excitement. “With some luck, Nia will bring you an artifact.”

“I guess so…Well, I’d better get started on dinner,” Gale said and went to gather ingredients. “They’re going to come back famished and tired.”

Astarion scoffed. “Serves them right,” Astarion said quietly. His voice was low enough that neither Gale nor Wyll heard him, but he gained an appreciative nod from Lae’zel. He picked at his nails, the motions lazy, practiced to perfection to appear unbothered. In truth, he felt a most annoying prickling underneath his skin. He wanted to scratch at it until it stopped. Alas, he knew doing so would only mar his beautiful flesh, so he began tapping his foot instead, to distract himself from the itch.

To say he was irked would be an understatement. Not even having fallen in a puddle and getting covered in mud had vexed him so. He felt a hunger that had nothing to do with bloodlust. A hankering to bite something like a rabid dog. To snarl and screech and hurt. It was positively primitive. And bothersome. He clenched his fists until they turned white, and his nails broke the skin, drawing out tiny drops of blood. He needed to calm himself down before the others noticed. He took deep breaths and sighed. It was all Nia’s fault.

They’d just had their first real tiff. Not a disagreement. Not an argument. A full-blown quarrel with a tiny bit of screaming on his part. Well, a whole lot. And some insults. He’d never seen Nia that cross at any of them. Her glare could have murdered him. Not that Astarion had cared at the time. He’d just wanted to get his thoughts out. To make her listen. The way she’d dismissed his concerns had pissed him off at a level he didn’t think was possible. It felt like he didn’t matter to her. He couldn’t have that, so he snapped. The result was he stayed in camp while she left once more to be the hero. A part of himself hated her for it. (Where had she been when he’d needed her the most?)

And his plan was going so well too. After their little talk, they’d become friends officially. He kept calling her his friend, and she gave him such a precious smile every single time, as if the thought alone made her happy. It was a tad disarming, if he was being honest. Intense. If Nia smiled at him in that way now, he couldn’t imagine how she’d look at him when he was finally on top of her, making her his. But, no matter, this was the first step to getting close to her. He had her trust, now all he needed was her heart. Well, lust.

Except he hadn’t counted on a slight setback.

Curse Nia’s altruistic nature to all the nine hells! They were supposed to get help from Auntie Ethel. She had invited them to her teahouse, where she was meant to examine them and find a cure. That would surely save them from going to the Githyanki Crèche and spending time with Lae’zel’s kind. But no. They had to cross paths with two desperate brothers looking for their lost widowed sister, who happened to be with child, no less. The perfect sob story if Astarion ever heard one. The pair accused Auntie Ethel of kidnapping their sister. Nia, to her credit, hadn’t wanted to get involved at first. She neither defended nor betrayed Auntie Ethel, only asking if it was true. Although that had offended the old woman anyway, everything could have still been solved with an apology and one of Nia’s bright smiles. It was basically a done deal. And yet… oh Astarion was sure the gods above had a personal vendetta against him. Everything had gone to shit when they discovered the brothers’ corpses.

“Helpless old lady, my arse,” Nia had said as she observed the murdered men.

Astarion knew her well enough to know guilt was gnawing at her. He rolled his eyes. They couldn’t possibly be expected to help everyone they came across. They had enough with the tiefling refugees at the Emerald Grove, and their whole business with the druids and the goblins. It wasn’t their fault the brothers hadn’t been smart and strong enough to find their sister. Nia had even warned them to be careful. They had yelled at her and hadn’t even offered them any coin for their services either, not even copper.

“Tough luck,” was all Astarion managed to say. He shrugged. “Then, shall we?”

“Hold on,” she replied, kneeling in front of the brothers.

For a moment, Astarion believed she was going to loot the bodies. The thought made his heart swell. She didn’t, to his growing disappointment. Instead, she leant down to examine the corpses up close. She looked at every wound, deep in thought. Brunhilde followed suit, curious as to what Nia was seeing. Next to him, Lae’zel grunted in disapproval.

“Are we going to stay here all day or are we going to Auntie Ethel’s?” He asked, displeased.

Nia’s nose scrunched. “Oh, we’re going to pay her a visit, alright.” Her tone of voice did not promise a nice little trip like Astarion wanted. He could hear disgust and thinly veiled anger in her words.

“You’re not thinking she─”

“These wounds,” she said, gesturing to the corpses, “weren’t caused by bandits.”

“Right,” he replied, “well, I guess we’ll never know what killed them.”

“It was a hag,” Brunhilde said.

“Are you sure?” Lae’zel questioned.

“I’m positive,” Brunhilde answered. “See these markings on their chests? Only a hag would be able to do that. That’s what Nia was checking.”

“Why do we even care?” Astarion muttered. “They were the ones with business with Auntie Ethel. If it’s true she’s a hag and they knew, they should’ve come prepared.”

“It’s true,” Nia said. “She’s a hag. Grandel the Gur mentioned he wanted to visit the hag of this place. He was awfully close to the location of Ethel’s teahouse.”

The Gur had once again managed to thwart his plans. Astarion could’ve resurrected the man only to kill him again.

“Even so, it’s not our place to interfere. They offended her. This is what they got.”

“How could we not at least ask her? Try to see if their sister is safe,” Nia said, probably trying to reason with him. But he didn’t care.

He rubbed his eyes. The tadpole squirmed inside his head. He felt the beginning of a headache coming.

“If we confront her, Ethel won’t help us, and the entire point of this adventure will become moot.”

“Astarion is right,” it was Lae’zel who defended him. “We’re just wasting time here.”

He felt vindicated that his githyanki companion felt a similar way to him. Nia, however, ignored her. She turned to look at him, eyes pleading.

“She’s with child, Astarion,” Nia said. “She’s all alone in the world now. She’s vulnerable. How can you ask me not to help her?”

He glared at her. “What about us, then? Are you going to stop helping us just to help everyone else?” He said, raising his voice slightly. “What if we all turn into mind flayers because you wanted to be the hero, hmm?”

That gave her pause. “I’m not… we’re not going to become mind flayers if I question Auntie Ethel.”

“And what if she’s the only one who can rid us of these parasites, and since you so clearly wish to offend her, she refuses to help us? What then?” His voice was a shrill. She wasn’t listening to him. It infuriated him. A fire burnt inside him, more scorching than Karlach’s own engine heart.

“That’s not going to happen,” Nia assured him.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t wish to offend her. I merely want to make sure Mayrina is safe.”

He scoffed. “Why do you care more about her than us?” He screamed.

“I don’t─”

“Why should I care about a stupid little girl and her stupid little babe when she’s the one that wanted to play with a hag with no regard to her own brothers? It’s her fault they died, the little brat. It’s probably her fault her husband died too,” Astarion spat viciously, chest heaving as he let it all out. “And you’re just as stupid if you want to risk it all just to save someone who doesn’t seem to want to be saved.” He finished, feeling proud of himself for a single moment. That’s what she got for refusing to see reason.

His smirk, however, faltered when he saw her face. Her glare was deadly. If looks could kill, he would have died a million times over.

“You don’t need to come,” she hissed. “I can do this all on my own.”

Astarion frowned. She couldn’t possibly be implying she’d go by herself. Was she an idiot?

“Let’s not get carried away,” Brunhilde, thankfully, interrupted them. “Let’s go back to camp and talk with the others. If Ethel’s a hag, I personally don’t feel comfortable trusting her with our issue. But we’ll see how everyone feels about this.”

“Fine,” Nia said and turned around, not even daring to look back.

“Fine,” he snarled and followed behind Lae’zel, who muttered about how everyone in the group liked to waste time.

They trekked back in strained silence. Brunhilde was the only one who dared to speak. She commented about the weather, and then about an animal she saw pass by.  No one talked, but Lae’zel did grunt every once in a while to show she was listening. Nia didn’t look at him at all. It was as if he didn’t exist. Her iciness was staggering. Astarion didn’t know she had it in her to be anything other than kind. It also incensed him further. How dare she, he thought, how dare she ignore me as if she doesn’t care. She might not even care. Perhaps her words had been a ruse to get him to trust her. And they had worked. An uncomfortable feeling emerged from deep within him at these thoughts.

Once they reached camp, Brunhilde explained the situation and Nia gave an impassioned speech to the others about why she wanted to investigate this case further. Unsurprisingly, all agreed that they should go and question Auntie Ethel and that it’d be wise not to trust her if she was a hag. What a bunch of goody-goodies, Astarion thought. How he despised the lot of them.

“I’m not going,” he declared then.

“You weren’t invited,” was Nia’s retort, and Astarion would be lying if he said it didn’t sting.

In the end it was decided Karlach would go with Nia and Brunhilde. The tiefling had been deeply touched by the story and desired to help. Shadowheart had volunteered to go with them, claiming they would need someone who could heal them if they were going against a hag. The four women left the next morning, after spending the previous evening planning for a worst-case-scenario. Astarion looked on as they left, not without sharing one last glare with Nia. Well, he thought, at least he had a day off to laze around while they did all the hard work. He’d done nothing but attempt to read his novel and ignore his companions. He idly wondered how they were fairing, before brushing the thought aside. It’s not like he cared if they got hurt. As time went on, though, he started to admit to himself he was a bit worried. His eyes never strayed far from the woods, awaiting their return.

He wasn’t the only one on edge. Gale had begun rambling about the wonders of the Weave as he cooked. He was so clumsy that he cut his finger with a knife and almost burnt his tunic with the campfire. Wyll, who was normally polite enough to keep a conversation going, replied to Gale in monosyllables, his eyes constantly searching for a sign of their companions. And Lae’zel had stopped doing her usual maintenance. She sat quietly, ears at the ready. Even the dog knew something was up. He had stopped barking and sat in front of Nia’s tent, waggling his tail anxiously. They all seemed to be waiting with bated breath.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps. Scratch perked up, Gale stopped talking, Wyll turned around, Lae’zel grabbed her sword, and Astarion stood up. If his heart were alive, it would probably be ramming inside his chest. They were not talking. The only sound that came from the woods was that of their boots crunching branches and grass. Astarion’s skin prickled once more. All his instincts pointed to something being wrong. At long last, the four came into view. First came Karlach, who had a limp and several bruises, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Shadowheart followed suit, although she was battered, she came back in one piece. Behind them, Brunhilde and Nia appeared, with the latter being supported by the half-orc. She was the one in the worst shape. A cut lip, bruises marring her beautiful face, other cuts on her body and she favoured her right foot over the other. The smell of blood hit Astarion before they were close to camp. Their blood, yes, but mostly Nia’s blood. He gasped.

“What happened?” Wyll was the first one to react. He walked towards Brunhilde and tried to carry Nia, but she pushed him away.

“I’m fine, Wyll,” she said and then winced when she stepped with her left foot.

“That doesn’t look fine to me,” the man replied, glancing at her injured body.

“Someone is being stubborn,” Shadowheart said. “She wouldn’t let me heal her.”

“You’re exhausted, Shadowheart,” Nia said. “I have more healing potions in my tent. I’ll be fine.”

That said, she limped towards her tent, ignoring all of them except Scratch, and closed the flaps behind her. The rest all turned to look at each other, uncertain.

“What happened?” Wyll insisted.

“Things didn’t go as planned,” was Brunhilde’s guarded response.

“The old woman turned out to be a hag after all,” Karlach elaborated.

“And our helpless victim wasn’t all that grateful for our help,” Shadowheart said sourly.

Astarion winced. Any other day he would have gloated at having been right. But after seeing their state, particularly Nia’s, he didn’t feel like it. They really could have died.

He shook, his stomach clenching.

“Let’s just rest, heal our wounds, and talk more tomorrow,” Brunhilde said before she too went to her own tent.

“I’ll finish healing all of you once I’m rested,” Shadowheart muttered.

“Don’t worry about it, Shaddy,” Karlach told her. “We’ll be fine until morning.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The three remaining women went to their tents without saying much else. Gale, in all his kindness, grabbed their plates and brought them dinner to each tent so they didn’t have to move too much. Nia, however, sent him away.

“She says she’s not hungry,” was all that Gale said when he came back with the warm plate still on his hand.

“If she wants to be difficult, let her starve,” Astarion replied.

“That’s not nice to say,” Wyll countered. “She’s probably too exhausted to eat. Or too in pain.”

That shut him up real quick.

“I’m going to save her a portion,” Gale said, ignoring them. “Once she feels better, she might be in the mood to eat.”

“She only needs to rest tonight, and then she’ll be fine,” Lae’zel added before standing up from her place in the fire and going to her own tent.

As it turned out, Nia’s temper did not improve come morning. It was, in fact, worse. Just not in the way Astarion had expected. She had eaten her ration at some point during the night, that much was clear from the empty plate and cup. However, she was long gone before they all gathered for breakfast. No one had seen her or heard her leave. Not even him. They ate in silence, which was broken once or twice by Gale’s jokes, but the air was so thick with tension that nobody laughed. Sometime later, Nia returned, face swollen but at least her cuts were clean. She asked Shadowheart to heal her with some reservations, and the two excused themselves to go to Nia’s tent.

“That’s some progress,” Gale commented.

“I’m not so sure,” Karlach said, her eyes looking at the green tent.

Shadowheart sighed once she exited. She shook her head at Gale when he attempted to talk. “Best not disturb her… she’s not… I’d leave her alone if I were you.” The cleric looked pointedly at all of them and then walked towards her own tent.

Brunhilde concluded it’d be best if all rested for the day. Of course, those who had missed yesterday’s adventure were free to do as they pleased, yet no one seemed to want to head out. Not that Astarion particularly cared about going on adventures on his own ─especially with the threat of monster hunters being after him─, nonetheless he almost marvelled at the way they all deflated when Nia was upset. It was like she was the sun, and the rest grew cold in her absence. They all seemed to wish to follow her to the depths of Avernus. The worst part was that she probably hadn’t realised the pull she held over all of them. That was true power, Astarion decided, and not what Cazador enforced. What frightened him the most was that, despite his grumbling, he’d also follow her in a heartbeat. He vanished the thought as fast as it came and went back to his book.

A few hours later, Nia emerged from her tent sporting clean clothes. Her face was no longer battered, and she didn’t limp anymore. Despite this, she didn’t greet everyone with her usual smiles. She, instead, ignored them and went about camp, checking their provisions. Her eyes were red, and her lips were set in a firm line. It appeared she would burst into tears at any given moment. She did, in fact, cry after Gale, in a misplaced attempt to brighten her mood, told her a dumb joke.

“Excuse me,” she stammered and practically ran away from camp, leaving a befuddled Gale behind.

“Was it something I said?” He asked.

“It might’ve been your face,” Astarion replied.

“Har, har. Very funny.”

“I am, you should get some pointers from me.”

Gale scoffed, shook his head at him and went back to his own books.

As fun as it was to mess with Gale, Astarion had to admit Nia’s reaction was unlike anything he’d seen her do. What in the hells had happened with the damned hag is what Astarion wanted to know. It must have been bad to have Nia in such a state. Once again, he felt at a loss on what to do. The elf wouldn’t tell him anything. He’d be surprised if she even said two words to him. Shadowheart would only give him sarcastic remarks and shoo him away him. And he was a tad scared of Brunhilde. Karlach would have to do. He didn’t think she’d deny him answers. Resolute, he walked towards the tiefling, who was lying down on her tent, staring at the sky.

“Karlach,” he greeted her.

“Ah, hello Fangs, is something the matter?” She said as she sat properly.

Shrugging off the nickname, Astarion sat down next to her. “As a matter of fact, yes. Can you tell me what has Nia in such a mood?”

Karlach hummed. Her eyes glancing towards where Nia had disappeared to. “It turns out Auntie Ethel is a real bitch.” The vampire chortled at her words of choice. “No, really, she told Brunhilde her parents must have been two ugly bastards for her to look like that. I’m not against trash talking in a fight, but that was uncalled for.”

“What did she call Nia to have her bursting into tears and not Brunhilde?”

Karlach hesitated. “It’s not so much what she said, but what happened.”

Alarms went off in his head. “What did the hag do?”

“When we got to her house, Mayrina was there,” Karlach started retelling. “Nia tried to ask her if she was alright, and if she knew what had happened to her brothers. The lass didn’t answer. Before we could even begin to understand the situation, Ethel transformed into a hag and took the girl with her, deep into her lair. We had no choice but to follow. There we had to fight her thralls. We realised they were slaves, poor souls that were tricked by the hag. Nia all but begged us not to kill them. We tried… but, yeah, it didn’t work. The hag had other victims that I don’t think we saved either.”

Whilst it was true that Nia tried to avoid killing as much as possible, Astarion didn’t think the death of a few strangers was enough to break her.

“And then what?”

“Well, we finally found the hag. She had Mayrina inside a cage. The lass claimed she was there on her own free will, though you can see why it was hard to believe her. Long story short, the fight was gruesome as the damned witch summoned copies of herself and tried to set the cage on fire. It was hard trying to guess which copy was the real hag, while trying to save the girl. She taunted us too. We almost died several times. The hag seemed to particularly have it against Nia, that’s why she was more injured than us.”

“I suppose Auntie Ethel felt betrayed,” Astarion said.

“Whatever the case, that old woman didn’t fight fair. She went as far as taking Mayrina’s shape to trick us. Not that it worked, the lass has a belly and the copy didn’t. Anyway, we managed to kill the hag at the end, but Mayrina wasn’t having it. She insulted the soldier and blamed her for losing her husband. She’d made a deal with the hag of some kind to resurrect her husband that was broken when we defeated her. She even slapped the soldier when she tried to console her. Mayrina’s words seemed to strike a chord with her. That’s when she started acting… crestfallen.”

He nodded, as he absorbed this information.

“There seems to be a story there,” Karlach said. “With Nia I mean.”

Astarion didn’t answer. He furrowed his brows as he tried to think what exactly had upset her so. Was it not being thanked after all her hard work? Was it that she had failed in her heroic duties? Did she regret killing Ethel without finding a cure for them? Had his words from the other day contributed to her current state?

“Look,” the tiefling started saying, bringing him out of his reverie, “it’s no secret we’re all sweet on the soldier.” She gestured with her head towards their other companions. “And we all want to help. But I think it would mean more to her if you were the one that went and talked to her.”

Astarion blinked. “What do you mean?”

Karlach gave him a funny look before shrugging. “Just go and talk to her. If you have questions, she’s the only one that can answer them.”

He guessed that was true. It wouldn’t do him any good to stay here, attempting to find out why she had acted in such a queer way. He’d have to talk to her, it seemed.

“Right, I’ll go now.”

“Yes, go. And hey, tell the soldier we’re all here for her.”

“Will do.”

Astarion stood up and followed Nia’s footprints. It didn’t take him long to find her. He was attuned to her heartbeat, and he could faintly smell her natural scent of berries and sunshine. He found her sitting on a fallen trunk, staring blanky ahead. Her shoulders shook as she took ragged breaths. She was calming herself; it would seem. He plopped next to her, startling her. She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t heard him.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted her, voice soft. “How are you feeling?”

“A-astarion,” she stammered. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes were puffy, and her skin glowed from all the tears she’d shed.

“When you didn’t come back after several hours, we all got worried,” he said. “I came looking for you.”

“Oh, so you came here to brag?” She snapped. She crossed her arms and turned to look away from him.

“You wound me, my dear,” he retorted. “I’m… I’m genuinely worried about you.” Even he was surprised by how gentle and sincere he sounded. But it was enough to make Nia look at him again.

“Oh,” she gasped. “Why?”

“I talked to Karlach. She told me everything that went down,” his words made Nia wince, “and I still don’t understand why you are so, how to put it? Distressed.”

He watched as the wizard took a deep breath. She was unsure. She was probably still irked at him from their earlier tiff.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he added. “Gods know I don’t like discussing my private life. I’d be a hypocrite if I made you talk to satiate my own curiosity.”

Nia appeared to ponder his words before speaking. “Do you really want to know?”

“Only what you’re willing to share.”

She sighed. “The reason why I wanted to help Mayrina so much is that… let’s just say I too know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” Her words were shaky; it looked like it pained her to say them. Nevertheless, they were honest. “I feared that the hag was taking advantage of her. That she was being withheld or was being lied to. I… I pitied her. Because she reminded me of myself.” The last part was said quietly. A few stray tears fell from her eyes. She quickly wiped them off. “But you were right,” she said, looking straight at him. “She truly did not want to be saved.”

Astarion didn’t feel like saying “I told you so” or similar phrases. In truth, he did not even want to boast, because he didn’t think he was right. It was a hollow victory.

Nia, however, took his silence as an agreement. “I guess I was just projecting my own feelings onto Mayrina.”

“How do you know I’m right?” Astarion blurted out.

“Huh?” She exclaimed, surprised. Like she thought he’d take glee from her misery.

“Auntie Ethel was a hag. Like you thought. There’s no world in which she didn’t lie to the girl. Did you manage to find out what the hag wanted in exchange?”

Nia shook her head. “Does it even matter? She won’t get her husband back.”

“It may give her some closure. To know she was being tricked.” he said. “Would knowing have helped you out if you’d been in her position?”

She thought about it for a moment. “You know what scares me? I think I too would have made a deal with a hag if the opportunity had presented itself. And then I would’ve felt foolish when she tricked me. Perhaps having an assurance that her husband wasn’t coming back either way will help her move on. She’s about to give birth, after all. She should be looking forward to the future.”

Astarion wasn’t sure what overcame him, but he suddenly stood up and held out his hand to Nia. “Let’s go.”

“What?”

“You have that amulet to speak to the dead. Let’s go back to Auntie Ethel’s and find out what she wanted from Mayrina. She was most likely up to no good. Once we know, we can tell the girl, and she can move past this. That would, in a way, save her, don’t you think?”

Nia merely nodded. She didn’t say much, yet she took his hand. He pulled her up and dropped her hand.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The walk towards Ethel’s teahouse was mostly quiet. Brunhilde and Lae’zel offered to come with them as backup in case they ran into more trouble, and with their luck, Astarion had no doubt it was highly possible they’d be attacked by beasts or bandits or both. Thankfully, nothing bothered them, not even those pesky goblins. He walked next to Nia, falling into place with her steps. She hadn’t said much since their trip started, but at least she wasn’t crying any longer. He still wasn’t sure what had possessed him to want to go and talk to the dead hag. He only knew that it’d probably stop Nia from feeling sad. He couldn’t stand her tears, he told himself. They annoyed him.

Deep down he knew those were lies.

“We’re here,” Brunhilde announced.

The teahouse was a shabby looking thing. Rundown and grim, like he’d come to expect from most places in the area once he’d heard the Sunlit Wetlands were a mere illusion. Nothing to write home about.  They went in, Brunhilde wordlessly guiding them amidst the dust. The house and the workshop itself were tidy if rustic. There were no signs of struggling there. Astarion’s eyes lingered on every crevice.

“Have you investigated this area?” He asked.

Nia shook her head. “We had more pressing matters to attend to, and then we were too tired to care.”

He hummed. “There could be something interesting or useful.”

“Let’s split and search, then.”

The four began opening drawers and doors, looking under tables, any place that could potentially hide something. Nia found a few potions that could come in handy, Lae’zel pocketed coins and Brunhilde found a scroll. They found nothing of note, though.

“So, where’s the hag?” Astarion finally asked after nothing caught his eye.

“This way,” Brunhilde replied.

They kept walking, past the hearth, and into a tunnel that gave way to a gallery. The bog surrounding the area gave a putrid smell that made Astarion gag. Even though there were items littered around, the place was empty.

“The hag’s victims were here,” Nia explained. “I don’t know where they went.”

“Wherever they went, they were in such a hurry, they left all their belongings,” Astarion said, as he inspected some of the fallen objects.

“Where’s the hag?” Lae’zel asked again.

“She’s further ahead,” Brunhilde said, gesturing for them to follow her.

The half-orc guided them into another tunnel, the floor was muddy, uneven and full of vines.

“A home perfect for a hag,” Astarion sarcastically remarked as he was careful not to step on mud.

There were signs of a battle; blood and charred dirt covered the floor. They passed by four bodies, which he realised were the four victims they’d failed to save given the way Nia adverted her eyes. They didn’t dally in that area. It was much too soon, and the corpses were still fresh. They carried on, following Brunhilde as she avoided traps and vines. She seemed to know where to step, tiptoeing and hopping about. Finally, they climbed down a wall and came face to face with a waterfall. Brunhilde jumped and crossed to the other side. Lae’zel instantly followed suit, sword at the ready. Nia came next, leaping underneath the cascade. She waited for him to cross. Water splashed him as he jumped. Once there he realised they had reached the hag’s ancient abode. Astarion looked around, noticing blood trails and marks of burns on the floor. This was the place where they had killed the hag. He turned to look at Nia and followed her gaze until it landed on a corpse. Next to him, Nia clenched her fists in anger. It was the hag.

His companion walked towards the body, mindful of the rocky terrain and the puddles of blood. Astarion followed her, close behind. He needed to see, needed to hear what this hag had planned. She was slumped unceremoniously on the floor, blood pooling underneath. Gone was the old woman they had met, the one he had found interesting. In her stead, she’d left a monstruous being. She was tall and deformed, with green-tinted skin, a crooked and bulbous nose, claws, bones coming from her hunchback, and sunken yellow eyes which stared at nothing.

Nia took the amulet out of her bag and recited the spell to speak with the dead. A charm on the body glowed, signalling her spirit was coming back. The hag screamed in rage when she saw them.

“You knuckle-dragging gobshite,” she screeched at Nia.

“Hello, Ethel,” his wizard companion greeted the hag, trying her best to appear unbothered.

“You will bleed. You will choke on your own guts for this,” the hag cursed her.

“You’re quite lively for a corpse,” Nia mused. Astarion smirked next to her at her joke.

“I’m a hag, you little snot,” Ethel, or rather, what was left of her, replied. “I’ve been ready for death, planning for death, longer than you’ve been born. But I won’t be a corpse forever, that I can bloody promise you.”

Nia shuddered, yet she steeled herself. “What deal did you make with Mayrina?” she asked.

The hag cackled. “The brat’s husband is dead. So sad. She wanted me to bring him back to life. Little fool thought it would fix everything.”

That much they knew already.

“Tell me the truth, what did you want with Mayrina in exchange of your services?”

“I didn’t want the girl, sweetie,” she said with a chortle, “I wanted her babe.” Astarion felt Nia stiffen beside him after hearing those words. “I would have gobbled it up and given birth to my very own hag daughter. From my guts she would've come: my blood, my bile. It would have been glorious.”

Repulsion filled him. That was taking things too far, even for him. Nia seemed to think something similar, as she glared at the hag.

“Why are you so cruel?” She spat. Her face scrunched up in disgust.

“Please. It's you lot who come to me. All you do is want, to be prettier, to be richer, to be loved,” the hag said with contempt. “People are their own worst enemies, petal. I just let them see it.”

Nia ignored her words. “One last thing,” she said, “where do you keep your valuables?”

The hag grinned. “I see you now for who you are, sweetness. You’d burn the whole world to the ground just to get what you want. And even then, that which you lost will never return to you,” she cackled as Nia glared at her. “But no matter. You’ll die soon enough like the illithid scum you are. Have fun with the treasures in my workshop. They won’t help you when the flesh melts from your bones, your guts dissolve, and your brain liquefies as you turn into a mind flayer.” She laughed and laughed, her voice echoing inside the chamber, only for it to be cut short when the spell was diffused.

“Ugh,” Astarion grumbled. “She was as horrid as her true form.”

“Let’s go to her workshop now,” Nia announced and turned around to leave the abode without any more words. She trembled as she walked. Astarion decided not to say anything. He did wonder about the meaning of Ethel’s words though.

Together, the three silently followed Nia to her workshop, which was as acrid as the lair itself.

“Check everywhere,” Nia said. “There must be something in here she was planning to use on Mayrina’s husband.”

They soon found all of Ethel’s special potions as they weren’t exactly hidden. Astarion wasn’t sure what they were, but nothing good could come from consuming them. Brunhilde grabbed them and kept them in her bag. “Just in case,” she said. He agreed. They could give them a better use than others who came to the hag’s lair. Or at the very least keep them away from their enemies. Nevertheless, none of them looked special enough to revive anyone. Astarion walked around, eyes searching for anything he might have missed. Then, they fell on a stone slab.

“What’s this?” He mumbled as he grabbed a wand made of twisted roots. “Is that flesh?” He complained with disgust.

That caught Nia’s attention. “Let me see,” she said, taking the wand from him. Her eyes appraised it. “Look, it says Connor. I believe that was Mayrina’s husband’s name. And there’s hair on it. Perhaps it’s his.”

“And his dead flesh as well,” Astarion said.

Nia closed her eyes and made some hand movements. Her eyes widened. “There’s… there’s power in here.”

“Do you think that’s what the hag was going to use?” Brunhilde asked.

“Oh, I’m sure. Let’s find Mayrina. We have what we need.”

They found the girl outside, standing in front of a wooden casket. She was crying.

“Mayrina?” Nia whispered, walking until she was beside the girl.

She was startled. “Gods, didn’t hear you coming.” She seemed apologetic towards Nia. Astarion remembered what Karlach had said, how the girl had insulted her and blamed her for everything.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Nia said gently. “Is that your husband?”

The girl nodded, a sob escaping from her throat. “I know I should head home, but I can’t bring myself to leave.”

Nia gave her a sympathetic smile. “I also didn’t leave his grave for days,” she said. Mayrina stared at her with wonder. “It’s not… a good feeling to return to an empty house.”

“That’s not all,” the girl replied. She crossed her arms around herself, her body shook as she gasped for air, tears streaming down her face. “The thought of putting him in a wheelbarrow and making the journey all over again…” she sighed.

“For what’s worth, I’m sorry for my part in this,” Nia said as she patted the girl’s shoulder. “Hags are not the most trustworthy bunch, and I feared you were being deceived.”

“I probably was, wasn’t I? Gods, I’m such an idiot.”

“You were,” Astarion interjected, gaining a glare from all the women around him. “Deceived, I mean,” he added. He turned to look at Nia and nodded.

“Auntie Ethel planned to eat your child,” she said.

“What? But she promised to look after them! Teach them magic!” Mayrina seemed flabbergasted. She hadn’t thought about the repercussions of her deal at all.

“She’s a hag, Mayrina. That’s what they do,” Nia replied. “I am sorry, though, that she lied to you.”

“I trusted her,” she groaned.

“I mean, turning a child into a hag does involve teaching them magic,” Astarion said.

“Astarion,” Nia hissed.

“What? It’s true.”

“Gods, I never thought…” Mayrina stammered. “I didn’t think this through at all. I’m so stupid. So bloody stupid.”

“No, no,” Nia said, rubbing her shoulders. “You were desperate, and she took advantage of that.”

“But I should’ve seen it!” She yelled. “I thought I could fix it. Give my child a good home and bring my husband back, all in one go.”

“I am sorry,” Nia said. “But now’s the time to leave it all behind and focus on your child and your future together.”

“You think my baby ever left my mind?” Mayrina replied. “Not even at my lowest.”

Nia flinched. “I didn’t mean that. I meant…” She sighed. “Look, I just wanted to tell you, so you’d have closure. But that’s not all. I found something.”

Mayrina stopped crying and looked at her. “What?”

“A wand. I believe it’s what Ethel planned to use to resurrect your husband.”

The girl’s eyes sparkled, hope blooming inside her again. “You can do it? You’re a wizard. You can do it, can’t you?”

Nia’s face hardened. “I’m not sure what the effects are going to be. She was a hag, remember? It could all be a trick. Do you still want me to try?”

Mayrina nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, ma’am.”

“Alright.”

Nia took out the wand. It started glowing green, the air around it turned pungent with the smell of decay.

“Bring him back,” Mayrina begged. “Bring Connor back. Please.”

They all watched as Nia pointed the wand towards the casket and flicked it. Immediately, a green ray struck it. Next, something rattled within. The wood crunched, something snapped. A body fell from it and tumbled into the ground with a loud thud. Astarion’s eyes widened when he saw what it was. Connor’s corpse. He had the distinctive paleness of death, not unlike his own. The body was bloated, having been dead for many weeks now. Flesh fell from the rotten wounds. The face had been eaten by maggots already. All his bones were noticeable, his ribcage, his skull. His hair and nose were missing. It was, truly, a horrific sight. The four blanched, but it was Mayrina who looked the worst.

She gasped. “What? What’s happening? Why’s he still dead?” Her voice had a hysterical shrill to it.

Nia’s hands shook as they held the wand. “I knew it was a trick,” she said. She swore under her breath, something in Elvish Astarion couldn’t quite catch.

Then, the undead groaned as it knelt on the ground. It stood up and began approaching his wife.

“What’ve you done to him?!” Mayrina shrieked without taking her eyes from the corpse.

“So, the hag fulfils her promise,” Nia muttered, wand still pointed at the body. “It can never be simple, can it?” She thought for a moment. Nose scrunched as she looked at the corpse. “Hold on, maybe it’s not permanent.”

“Not permanent?” Mayrina screeched. “Bits of him are falling off.”

“I…” the wizard faltered. “There might be a spell.” She tried to say. Her brows furrowed. It looked like she was trying to remember all the spells and cantrips she knew.

“Who cares about a spell?” Mayrina exclaimed. “I wanted him back, back the way he was. Not this.”

It’d be impossible with this level of decay, Astarion thought. The only cure he could think of was vampirism, and even then, a person would never be the same, as he knew all too well.

Nia bit her lip. “It would be best if we bury him again.” She moved the wand to release the spell when the girl screamed.

“No! Don’t put him in the ground! He was… he is afraid of the dark.” The girl clutched Nia’s robes, trembling.

The wizard rubbed her forehead. “Then, what will you have me do?” She sounded defeated.

“I’ll do it. I’ll take him,” Mayrina said, surprising them all.

The girl’s mad, Astarion thought as he observed her from a few steps behind. He couldn’t fathom what an expectant woman would be able to do with a literal walking corpse, and so close to the birth no less.

Nia looked from Mayrina, to the corpse, to the wand and back at Mayrina again. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She asked.

The girl nodded, a wild look to her eyes. “I promised him I’d fix this,” she replied. “And I’m gonna. Maybe, maybe someone in Baldur’s Gate can help us. I’ll… I’ll figure something out.”

Nia didn’t look convinced, not that Astarion could blame her. Baldur’s Gate might have been the city of one million chances, but this was taking it too far. He didn’t think even the greatest necromancer in all Faerûn could do something to fix this.

“Okay,” Nia finally conceded. “Perhaps someone at the academy knows how to help you. Tell them Nia sent you, and they won’t turn you away.”

Mayrina nodded and took the wand from Nia. “Come on, love. Let’s go.”

With that, both spouses left, reunited at last in macabre circumstances.

Nia took a sharp breath once they were gone and fell on her knees. “I shouldn’t have used the wand.” Her eyes were unfocused, her body shivered.

Brunhilde patted her shoulder. “She wanted to. It wasn’t our place to choose for her.”

Lae’zel tsked. “She shouldn’t have left with the wand,” she grumbled.

Astarion sighed. Although his gith companion was right, there was no use in getting his undergarments twisted. He knew the wizard enough to know she’d never keep such a thing. “Well, there’s nothing we can do now. Let’s just go back and rest. There were too many emotions today, and I can’t stand the smell of this wretched place.”

With that, the four of them made their way back to camp. Nia sniffled once or twice, though she seemed calmer than before. That was good. Even so, Astarion wasn’t sure he had succeeded despite his best intentions; at the very least the girl had gotten her husband back. Sort of.

The journey back was uneventful and soon they were greeted by the campfire and Gale’s cooking. Astarion motioned for Nia to follow him. She nodded and the two went to the same fallen branch she had been sitting on before. They sat down, they were so close, their shoulders brushed against each other.

“Are you feeling better, darling?” He asked her.

She shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting for her husband to come back a corpse.”

“Damned hag,” Astarion cursed. “She’s laughing at us from the grave.”

“I don’t think what I did was right,” Nia blurted out. “That wand is dangerous.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean?”

“I felt it, you know, when I had it,” she said, hands trembling. “Its power. It wanted me to control the corpse. To become its master.”

“Why didn’t you?” He asked with genuine curiosity. “Surely a zombie would be useful in this adventure.” He imagined what they would be able to do with that wand. Raise an army of the undead. He could almost taste its power.

“No one deserves to be a slave,” she answered pointedly.

Astarion froze. His fantasies of dominion fizzled out around him. In return, warmth spread through his cold body. “I, erm,” he coughed, burying this emotion deep within himself. “I think that it wasn’t all for nought. Mayrina has her closure now. She knows that the hag was going to trick her. You saved her poor babe from the terrible destiny of becoming a horrid hag. And you gave her hope,” he said. When Nia didn’t answer, he kept going. “Yes, mistakes were made. Her husband is just a pile of rotting flesh, and it will take a talented necromancer to fix this mess, but you saved her.” He touched her arm. “You’re the hero.”

She smiled weakly at him. “I didn’t do it to be heroic. I did it because, in the end, I wanted Mayrina to have her happy ending.”

“Yes, yes, that’s what a proper hero would say.” He dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. “So heroic, darling.”

“I wanted her to have her happy ending because I didn’t get mine.”

Astarion closed his mouth and looked at her. Tears fell down her beautiful face, glistening under the moonlight like diamonds. He almost reached to wipe them off, but he was too entranced by her expression. It was solemn, serene, and sorrowful.

“I told you, I was projecting myself onto Mayrina. I followed you to see if there was something to be done. If there was anything in the hag’s lair that could resurrect her husband. And despite the horrendous results, I… I still think I’m not any better. I would’ve done the same.”

“You would’ve sacrificed your own child to save your lover?” He asked, incredulous.

“No,” she answered fast, as if she’d thought about this before. “I wouldn’t have.”

“Then that makes you less stupid than Mayrina.”

“Love makes us all stupid, Astarion,” Nia said. He shut his mouth. “What about you? Would you have used that wand to resurrect your lover, even if they were nothing but a living corpse?”

The question took him aback. He thought about it for a moment, deep in thought. “The truth is I’ve never been in love,” he admitted to her. “I mean, maybe in my past life, not that I remember anything from that time. But not as a vampire. I’m… not sure what I would’ve done. I’m not against taking extreme measures if push comes to shove, clearly,” he said, pointing at his fangs, “and yet, I don’t like being tricked. After living for so long, I’m not naïve enough to believe in hags and other sorcerers. Hells, I don’t trust Withers and he claims he can bring us back to life for coin.” His words were wry as he spoke. Hands moving in wild gestures. Then, he dropped his hands and gave Nia a small smile. “That said, if I ever loved anyone… yes, maybe I’d be an idiot and fall into a scheme to save them. Maybe I’d sell my own child’s soul to the devil himself. Who knows. I sold my soul and body to Cazador, so it tracks.”

Something sparked in Nia’s eyes. Something he couldn’t name. It was gone as fast as it came. “I hope you never have to know,” she said, her hand stopping before she could pat his shoulder.

A queer feeling spread through him in waves. He felt disconcerted, as if she’d cast a spell on him. He didn’t even know what to do with her well wishes. The vampire froze in his seat. He, then, shook his head to dispel such thoughts. It wouldn’t do to dwell on this any longer. Giving her his best roguish smile, he said, “If I’m ever in such troubles, I know who to call.”

She didn’t answer right away. She moved her head, braids swinging along. Then she gave him a pitiful sort of smile. “Thank you.”

Astarion hadn’t expected that answer. Taken aback, he turned to fully look at her, frightful if this was a trick. “What for?”

“For helping me with Mayrina. You didn’t have to.”

Her eyes were so sincere, they made his skin crawl. He decided to joke. Anything to stop her from looking at him like that. “You’re rubbing off on me, it would seem. Watch out, I might come for your job as a hero.”

She giggled, the sound fluttering around like butterfly wings. A weight was lifted from Astarion’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Nia said after a few seconds of silence.

“Whatever for, my dear?” He asked, not knowing how to take her apology.

“For the fight we had the other day,” she said, fiddling with her fingers. “You were right. I didn’t listen to you. But I promise it wasn’t my intention to ignore you. At that point I didn’t think the hag could help us,” she explained.

The urges to boast had faded away a long time ago. Astarion waved her off. “Let bygones be bygones, darling. You might have saved us from a similar fate to Mayrina’s husband. Or who knows, we might have lost an eye.” Nia chuckled. He cleared his throat. “And I’m sorry for yelling. Now I get it. Just promise me you won’t stop to save every single soul in need of help?”

She pretended to think about it. “Can’t make any promises. One of those souls could be you.”

His dead heart stuttered. She didn’t know how true her words were.

“Pfft, alright. Then I’ll have to be there to be the voice of reason. I can’t have you running headfirst into my problems.”

“Hmm, deal,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Deal.”

They fell silent after that. It was peaceful.

“You were right. The stars look beautiful from here.”

Astarion grunted in approval.

Chapter Text

“Did you like Tangled Love?” Nia asked him one evening, after dinner.

“Pardon?” Astarion said, confused. He’d been lounging outside his tent before another night of hunting, waiting for his companions to go to sleep. The events of the day had left him starving. Who knew saving a snivelling child from a snake would open the appetite quite this much?

She smirked at him, lips curled in a playful smile. “Don’t play dumb, Astarion. The novel you took from my tent. You know, the romance one.”

He was suddenly grateful to be a vampire; otherwise, Nia might have seen his cheeks turning red. “Oh, that.” He shrugged. “I wanted to see what kind of filth you read. I have to say, darling, that I was disappointed to find it was just a sentimental novel. Really, now, what do you find so interesting about it?” He said, giving her his best unbothered grin.

She hummed; smirk still set on her face. “You will soon find that the buildup is more satisfying than the sex itself.”

The vampire smirked. “Oh? So that’s what you enjoy? The foreplay? I happen to be very good at that.”

Nia chuckled; cheeks pink under the moonlight. “I meant the romantic buildup,” she said shyly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her pointy ear. The action made her earrings swing back and forth. “I thought you might have enjoyed it given the fact you still have the book in your possession.” Ah, there it was.

Astarion cleared his throat. “We’ve been so preoccupied with saving children in the grove from evil druids and whatnot, that it must have simply slipped my mind.”

“Of course.” She didn’t believe him one bit, he could tell.

“I promise to return it as soon as possible.” He hoped the little wizard didn’t realize it was because he wanted to finish it. Damn that novel, it had no right to be so intriguing.

“You can keep it for as long as you want,” she replied. “I was just curious, though,” she said coyly.

“About what?” Astarion felt guarded. He didn’t like the turn this conversation was taking.

“Well, about what kind of books you do enjoy. Apparently, the sentimental ones are not your cup of tea.”

He brightened when he heard that. Nia was asking him about his literary recommendations at long last. He figured she may have gotten bored of Gale and his esoteric books. The bumbling wizard, for all his knowledge, did not seem to have taste when it came to the arts, something he could tell by his wardrobe. Not in the way Astarion had after years of cultivating himself.

“There are better topics to read about, my dear. Besides, those stories are even more fantastical than dragons. Who even falls in love in a day?”

Nia sat down next to him, trying to sneak a peek at the book he’d been skimming through. “Then, what do you suggest? What’s your favourite thing to read?”

“Poetry,” he said, putting his book away.

That caught her attention. “What kind?”

“All of it.” That answer got him raised eyebrows.

“Even romance?” She asked, a grin lacing her lips.

“Love poetry has nothing to do with the garbage you read,” he defended with a scoff.

She pursed her lips. “And yet you haven’t returned my book.”

“I told you I’d return it soon enough. Do you want me to go and get it now?”

Nia chuckled. It sounded like bells, the wind carrying her laughter through the night. Astarion wrapped his arms around himself and glared haughtily at her.

“I’m just teasing,” she answered with a shrug. “No need to get so defensive.”

“I’m not getting defensive,” he said, turning his face away from her. He was starting to resent her disturbing his peaceful night.

She chuckled. “Well, what is it you like about poetry?” she asked, hands under her chin as she looked intently at him.

Astarion let his arms fall and turned around, so they were face to face. “What’s not to like?” He gestured wildly as he spoke. “Poetry is an exploration of every known feeling. Love, revenge, pain, solitude, melancholy, lust. Tales of woe, of hardship, and tales of victory too. There is something for every mood. It also helps all us elves are remarkable poets,” he said, his voice becoming passionate the more he talked.

Nia listened to him with absolute earnestness. She had this way about her, in which she always appeared to be absorbed in what he said. It felt like, for a few minutes at least, he was the only thing that mattered in the world to her. Astarion quite enjoyed that. He delighted under her undivided attention.

“Have you ever tried writing your own poems?” She suddenly asked.

That gave him pause. “No, but I bet I’d be magnificent at it,” he said, mask in place.

Nia smiled at him. A soft kind of smile, almost affectionate. “I think so too.”

He froze under her stare, her long eyelashes fluttering as she spoke. He recovered quickly, taking the helm of this conversation. “I’d make a dashing poet, don’t you think?”

She nodded. “If we survive these tadpoles, you should give it a try.”

He snorted. “I might even compose a poem about our adventures. Disrupting a bugbear and an ogre’s passionate lovemaking would make for fetching verses, don’t you agree?”

The other elf laughed more freely this time, hands clutching her belly. “Oh, it’d be quite a poem, I’m sure.”

Astarion smirked. An idea taking root inside him. “And what about you? What salacious things do you read in your spare time?”

“Nothing that interesting, honestly. When I don’t have my nose buried in scrolls, I try to read anything I can get my hands on. I try to keep my mind active. I can read history books, legends of old, some horror, adventure, and before you start, yes, I also read romance occasionally.”

“Hmm, and poetry?”

“Sometimes. Any recommendations?”

Astarion tapped a finger on his temple as he thought. “Hang on,” he said and then he disappeared into his tent. He came back carrying two slim tomes. “I found these ones the other day. This,” he said, picking the one with a blue cover, “is about a person’s solitude as the poet walks all by themself through Faerûn. It’s filled with lamentations, descriptions of the land, and other observations about life and death. And this,” he said, showing her the second book, which was brown and unassuming, “is extremely horny.”

Nia took them both from his hands. “So, I’ve got two options for any mood, melancholic or lewd.”

“What other moods are there?”

She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll read them and get back to you.”

On the next evening, Nia came back to his tent, a tome in hand. “Since you’ve shared some of your findings, I’ll give you another book for when you want to rest from reading Tangled Love. This one is about one of my childhood heroes Prince Orpheus, one of my favourite githyanki legends. I hope you like it.”

Soon, they started a book club of sorts. Nia would come to his tent just after dinner and tell him all about her impressions on the poetry books he’d given her.

“Yes, it’s horny but also really heartfelt. And it helps that the descriptions are creative to say the least.”

“Aren’t they? I never thought anyone could describe two individuals fucking from behind in such a beautiful way. I wonder how this poet would describe the bugbear and the ogre’s rutting.”

In turn, Astarion read the book she’d shared with him.

“It wasn’t as boring as I’d thought, but I want something with a little more spice and action.”

“I have something in mind.”

“Please don’t say Tangled Love.”

“I was going to give you the sequel.”

“There’s a sequel?!”

As they read side by side each evening, sitting close to the fire, Astarion felt surprisingly at ease. It nearly made him forget all about his plans to seduce her. Nia was quickly becoming his friend with no pretences. Perhaps if he was open, she’d understand his need for protection. He wouldn’t have the need to use her. But then, the next day, they would all be confronted with more dangers coming their way, and Astarion’s blood would run cold. He eyed her, her shoulders brushing his, and his instincts started to kick in.

“One day, I’m going to read you some of that filthy poetry in your ear and make you blush, darling,” he drawled as seductively as he could.

Her eyelashes fluttered again. “Not if I beat you to it first, dearest,” she said, eyebrows raised in a challenge. “I’m going to read you the entirety of Tangled Love.”

His shocked expression must have been comical, as Nia started laughing so hard, she cried.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Astarion complained, making her chortle even more.

“I promise to be gentle, my precious.”

He sighed. What had he gotten himself into?

Chapter Text

Astarion wasn’t sure why he had grabbed it. They had been exploring some ruins ─what else was new─ when something glinting in the distance caught his eye. Never one to leave treasures behind, he picked it up. It was a silver mirror. Ornate and lavish. Fit for a king’s bedroom. Although most beautiful things were tempting to own, a mirror had no practical use for him. He knew, even before he touched it, that it wouldn’t work. Nevertheless, he took it and placed it inside his bag. It was only once he was in the safety of this tent that he dared to take it out. As expected, try as he might, there was no reflection staring back at him.

Disappointment settled in the pit of his stomach, hard as a rock. He thought that now that he was enjoying this strange freedom thanks to the parasite currently residing behind his eye, he had regained most everything he’d lost. He could be out in the sun again, pass through running water, go into rooms and buildings without being invited. Sure, he still had his sanguine hunger, but since that matter had been sorted out, it didn’t trouble him as much. His reflection, his identity, was the last missing piece. One that he wouldn’t be able to recover, it appeared. He sighed, with unwelcome feelings tumbling inside him like waves.

Astarion heard it, then. Footsteps outside, some rustling as someone opened the tent, and there, reflected in the mirror, came a familiar face. A small head with blonde tresses framing it, hair styled in two top buns and braids, freckles which dusted a straight nose, amethyst eyes sparkling in the candlelight, luscious pink lips, and blonde eyebrows raised in question. He would know that visage anywhere in this realm.

“Looking at something?” Astarion asked Nia, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

She blinked at him in surprise. “How did you know I was here?”

“The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn’t quite make up for the lack of a reflection, mind you,” he explained, still staring at her through the mirror. Her eyes widened and something akin to pity flashed in them. His stomach churned. “What do you want?”

“I was calling you, and when you didn’t answer, I got worried,” she explained, moving closer to his back. “I wanted to see if you needed more healing potions, I happen to have acquired some more.” When he didn’t reply, she continued. “Were you looking at something?”

He sighed. “Yes, but I’m not seeing very much.” Try as he might, only Nia’s eyes were reflected in the silver mirror.

“Oh,” she mumbled in understanding. “Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?”

That is when he finally turned to look at her with his own eyes, the mirror dropping in his hands. “Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity?” He wondered out loud. “Of course I miss it.” He sounded more crestfallen than he had meant to. It wasn’t in his plans to talk to her, but Nia had arrived at a bad time.

“Might be a small price to pay for a vampire’s power,” she said, no doubt in an attempt to lift his spirits. Not that it had worked.

“To you, maybe. To me it’s just another thing Cazador took. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs, and my eyes turned red.” His voice took a melancholic tone. He left his guard down, yet he didn’t regret it. He felt safe. Sort of.

Nia gave him a sad look, as if she understood his feelings. “What colour were they before?” She asked, gazing straight into his scarlet eyes.

“I…” her question startled him. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.” There were many things that had been lost to time. So many details about his life that had vanished from him the night he got turned. His past was mostly blank. Everything he was had slipped away as he had emerged from his tomb, a monster.

She licked her lips. There was understanding in her eyes. “You’re a moon elf, aren’t you? Like me,” she said. He nodded. He knew that much about himself at least. “Then, they might have been blue or green,” she trailed off.

“Or some shade of violet like yours. Hard to know,” he huffed. “Not that it matters. It’s not the only thing I can’t remember. My face is just some dark shape in my past.” He threw the mirror onto the ground, smashing it into a million pieces. “Another thing I’ve lost.”

She reached out to him but stopped before her fingers could touch him. “You’ve nothing to worry about. You have a good face. I like it.” Her voice was soft and a bit timid.

“Is it?” He mumbled. His walls were down, and he craved the reassurance he knew only Nia could give him. He’d seen it before, when she talked to their other companions and dissuaded their fears. “Tell me, what do you see when you look at me?” His voice came out like a sigh.

Instead of answering, Nia got close to him, her face merely inches away from his own.

“What?”

For a second, Astarion thought she might kiss him. Instead, she squinted playfully at him and then pulled back.

“I’ll be your mirror,” she announced. “What do you want to know?”

He considered it for a moment. “I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me.” She nodded. “What you see,” he added, pleading.

She smiled gently. “Strong, piercing eyes.” She moved her hands towards his face. Not touching, but he could almost feel her caress.

“Oh,” he exclaimed, surprised. “Go on…” he smiled, something tender worming its way to his chest and spreading. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he’d thought.

“That dangerous smile,” she touched her own lips.

“Very good,” he replied. “Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.” He gestured, avoiding her affectionate gaze.

The other elf chuckled. “Is that all you want? Shallow praise?”

“Hardly. There’s also gold, sex, revenge. Quite the list, really,” he replied, his humour uplifted by her words. “But failing any of those, I will always settle for shallow praise.”

Nia shook her head, still smiling. “You never change,” she said fondly.

“I suppose not,” he agreed with her.

“For the record, you are beautiful.” Her voice was soft as the wind carried it to him.

Astarion felt himself fluster, but he shook the feeling away. “Observant, you are.” She giggled at him. “Mirrors aren’t much use, but being reflected in someone else’s eyes? Well, I could do worse.”

They stared at each other, something trickling around them. He felt it crackling, making him shiver. It was too much.

“Well, I better get some beauty sleep,” he coughed. “If I’m to remain as beautiful to you.”

“Astarion,” Nia called him before he could turn away. “You are beautiful, but there’s more to you than just your looks.”

Her words were far too honest. Too sweet. Exactly like she was. He wanted to hate her, he really did. Yet, defeated, he realised he couldn’t. She was much too precious for that.

“Ugh,” he complained. “You’re meant to flatter me, not wax poetic.”

Nia chuckled. “It’s not poetry if it’s true.” That got him speechless. She, then, nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied. “Have a goodnight’s rest,” she said. Giving him one last look, she exited the tent, leaving him with his thoughts.

Astarion picked up the mirror. Somehow the broken glass didn’t hurt him as much as he thought it would.

Chapter Text

Another day, another fight. In her quest to save the tiefling refugees, Nia found out about a conspiracy brewing in the grove. Astarion had to say Kagha’s plan to take over the Emerald Grove and become the First Druid had been brilliant. What a shame that she would have left such obvious evidence out in the open, where a curious and self-righteous elf had found it. That was a rookie mistake. In any case, once the letter detailing Kagha’s scheme with the shadow druids had reached Nia, she’d convinced them all to confront her. Astarion hadn’t wanted to take part in that plan of hers. He wasn’t interested in anything that did not outright benefit him, but he’d come to understand nothing could stop Nia from performing good deeds. He could live with that, he supposed. As long as they were still on track, and on their way to find a cure for the parasites living in their brains, it’d be fine. Or so he hoped. Karlach and Shadowheart had gone with both leaders of the group, expecting the rest of the druids to take care of the rest. Although Nia hadn’t planned to cause a fight, problems followed her wherever she went. The women returned, tunics and armour stained with blood, but all four looked victorious.

“The shadow druids had been hiding in the grove the whole time, and they attacked us,” Nia explained to the rest of the group. “We convinced Kagha to betray them and take our side, and together we defeated the shadow druids. It seems the tieflings will be able to stay in camp while we sort the goblin problem. The ritual has been stopped.”

Wyll and Gale talked excitedly about the turn of events, congratulating their companions. Lae’zel took an opportunity to praise Brunhilde’s efficiency in battle, making the half-orc blush. Astarion raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. He’d felt for some time that they appeared to have a certain attraction for one another. Whatever it was, it could be useful to him. He walked closely to them, planning to eavesdrop on their conversation, when he was interrupted by Shadowheart approaching Nia. There was something different about the cleric tonight. She sauntered towards their leader, hips moving like a pendulum. All done on purpose to entice. Not that Nia even noticed these little attempts at seduction, bless her. She beamed at her friend like always, greeting her. She didn’t seem to take heed of how Shadowheart’s posture accentuated her lowcut blouse. What is going on? He thought. He pretended to inspect his nails, his pointy ears tuning in to snoop in their conversation.

“That was…interesting,” Shadowheart commented. “There’s never a dull moment with you.”

“What can I say?” Nia said. “It’s my blessing and my curse.”

The cleric giggled girlishly in response. Astarion smirked. He could tell where this was going. And he was aware that Nia didn’t have a clue, oblivious as she was.

“You know, we’ve come a long way since we met,” Shadowheart continued. “And now we’re here, saving others, together.”

Nia laughed. “The things that can be accomplished when we stop arguing,” she said.

“I feel that we’re closer,” the half-elf added after a few moments of silence.

“You know, I can’t help but feel you and I should connect more. Truly connect.”

Astarion did not expect Nia to say that. As inconspicuously as possible, he turned to look at her. He didn’t know what he wanted to see. Blushing cheeks, perhaps. A flirtatious glint in her eyes. Yet, nothing of the sort could be found on her face. The elf was genuinely smiling. With abject fascination, he realized Shadowheart was reading her all wrong.

“I think I know what you mean. There's an undeniable rapport, and yet we haven't made time for each other. Time alone,” the half-elf replied, the hidden meaning of her words not that veiled. At least for him.

Nia nodded. “We should find a place away, well, away from this,” she said, gesturing to the camp.

“Easily remedied, if you like. I know a place,” Shadowheart said, eagerly. “We could steal away one of these nights, when everyone is asleep.”

“Sounds like a plan,” the wizard agreed with a smile.

“Great! I’ll come for you when it’s time.”

With that, Shadowheart left and went back to her tent, a pleased smile on her lips.

Astarion almost barked out a laugh. He didn’t, though. He didn’t want to attract unwanted attention to himself. That was a rather amusing turn of events. Not that he was worried. There was not even an ounce of attraction coming from Nia’s way. What sounded like flirting to Shadowheart was friendliness to Nia. Perhaps his elven friend had no experiences with women. Or maybe Shadowheart had been too imperceptible in her ways. He could tell, but he wagered most couldn’t. There was the secret third option, which Astarion had considered for himself before. Nia acted ignorant on purpose, because she was simply playing hard to get. He’d come to believe it from time to time. It was painfully glaring that he wasn’t the only one pursuing her, although the others’ tactics were more subdued than his own. So far, he’d been the only one to make her blush. An achievement in its own right. However, he had wondered if his companions would ever raise the stakes. Shadowheart had tonight. Maybe it was time to hasten his plans, he thought.

“Well?” He was so deep in thought he got startled by a sweet voice. Looking up, he saw Nia in all her glory, sitting beside him by the fire.

“Well, what?” He asked, feigning indifference. His brows furrowed, trying to decipher what she wanted and if she’d noticed his spying on them.

“Aren’t you going to scold me? No ‘Darling, don’t play hero,’ ‘Darling, I severely disapprove of your good actions,’ ‘Darling, kill her, don’t ask her to join you,’ ‘Darling, you’re wasting perfectly good blood’?” She said, deepening her voice in an attempt to imitate his. The result was rather humorous. Though he had to admit, Nia got his accent right.

Astarion snorted. “I think we’re well past that. I know now that when an idea makes its way into your pretty little head, you can’t be convinced to do the opposite,” he explained. “It’s one of your most obnoxious and endearing traits, my dear.”

“I knew you liked me deep down in here,” she pointed to the general direction of his chest, grinning at him.

He scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that, darling.”

She chuckled. Then, she offered him a goblet. “Drink with me, it’s just water though.”

Astarion accepted, taking the goblet from her hand, his cold fingers touching her warm ones, making her shiver. “It shall be my pleasure.” He raised the goblet. “To you, my darling, for another success at being the grove’s hero.”

The goblets clanked as they toasted. The cold water hit Astarion’s throat. He half-wished it was Nia’s blood instead. Or at least some wine.

She stayed to talk to him, retelling the events of the day. Her eyes shone as she told him how the fight had gone down. He absorbed her words, the tiniest bit of interest sparking up as she mentioned the bloodshed. Once or twice, he laughed, her descriptions vivid and engaging. It was as if he’d been there. He liked this, whatever it was, he thought. She didn’t need to ask him to a secluded place to connect with him like with Shadowheart. She sought him. She wanted to talk to him, with no expectations of late-night encounters.

Nia was so close he could smell the sweat and the blood on her, still present despite her bathing. He found he didn’t dislike the scent. Her hair was messy, and his fingers twitched, craving to push the strands away from her face. His eyes fell to her lips. He could kiss her if he wanted to, Astarion thought with a jolt. He wondered if she’d reject him, or if she’d like to be kissed in front of all their companions, in front of Shadowheart, claimed as his. In times past, he would have attempted such a feat. Not anymore. He wanted to seduce her, little by little, until all she could see was him. It would take some patience, but at the rate they were going, he was sure no cure would be found soon. He had all the time needed for his plan to succeed. He wasn’t intimidated by his companions. Astarion knew they wouldn’t get her. And even if they did, all he had to do was whisk her away. Although his plans fluttered in the back of his mind, he ignored them. In the meantime, he drank the cold water, which did nothing to calm his thirst, and listened to the rest of her story with honest enjoyment. The spell they were in was, ironically, broken by the other wizard in the group, who hummed sadly in the background. As her tale ended, she wished him goodnight and stood up, heading towards Gale’s tent.

The wizard had been trying to get Nia’s attention all evening. The annoying man’s advances, however, had been rejected in favour of Shadowheart. Dejected, he had retreated to his tent. Astarion assumed Nia felt bad about it and wanted to talk to him in case there was something of interest Gale wished to say. A big part of Astarion was elated she’d decided to talk to him first. It seemed in her list of priorities he came before Gale. On the other hand, he felt… troubled. Not worried, but something else. Shadowheart had made her move, so who was to say Gale wouldn’t try it too, tonight of all nights? Thankfully, Astarion had set up his tent next to Gale’s, a means to get a rise out of the man. As predicted, the wizard had grumbled when he’d noticed. It was one of the little pleasures Astarion could get in these blasted woods. Now, it would seem this closeness would come in handy.

As quietly as he could, he sneaked towards Gale’s tent. He peered from behind the fabric of the canopy, following Nia. On the other side, he found the wizard playing with his magic. He formed the face of a woman on his palm, the blue magic reflecting the moonlight. She was beautiful, Astarion mused. Otherworldly.

“Pretty,” Nia said, disturbing the wizard. The illusion faded as Gale turned to look at her. “Who was that?”

“Oh!” He yelped. “My, you startled me. I…I was miles away,” he replied, clearly embarrassed.

“Was that Mystra?” Nia tried again. Astarion frowned. Mystra, he thought, as in the goddess? Why in the nine hells would Gale be mournfully staring at a goddess’ face?

“No, erm, of course not!” Gale denied.

Nia raised a singular blonde eyebrow in her all-knowing way. It was a tad comical seeing that expression directed at someone that wasn’t him for a change. “Really, Gale? I thought we were going to be truthful to each other from now on.”

The man sighed, a sorrowful expression on his face. “I was just pondering what I lost.”

That gained him Nia’s compassionate look, one Astarion had seen several times before. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “What did our goddess do?”

Gale shook his head. “Nothing,” he said far too quickly to be credible. “It’s just… she’s Mystra. I can’t quite describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her. To draw the filaments of fantasy into existence. No sculpture or painting could ever do her justice, only the fabric that she herself is and embodies: the Weave. Mystra is all magic. And as far as I’m concerned, she is all creation.”

As he spoke with devotion, his ears turned pink and his eyes glimmered. There was something off about the way he talked about the goddess, Astarion thought. Not even their resident cleric talked about Lady Shar in such a way.

“You sound like a smitten schoolboy,” Nia replied and Astarion couldn’t help but agree. Despite her teasing tone, he noted that her expression concealed worry. That was odd. Gale sputtered, the pink of his ears spreading to his cheeks. “But that doesn’t answer my question. What’s wrong?”

Gale sighed. “As you know, Mystra commands all magic. Salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold. And yet, even now, more than I fear losing my own self and soul, I fear losing my command of her art.”

“You won’t lose it, Gale,” she said. “You’re too achieved in magic to lose it completely.”

“Oh, you don’t understand. You’re an elf! You were born knowing how to manipulate the Weave. Even if you weren’t a wizard, you’d still know how to do it. It’s different for me. I’m a human.”

Nia did not respond to that. Instead, she sat on the ground and patted the spot next to her. “Then tell me.”

Gale joined her. “Magic is…my life,” he said with utter devotion. “I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. I don’t know why I was given this gift. But there’s nothing like it. It’s like music, poetry, physical beauty, all rolled into one and given expression to the senses.”

Astarion heard the wizard with a bored expression on his face. Give it to Gale to be dramatic about magic. He wasn’t wrong about elves, though. Even he knew how to cast a few spells. Not that he cared. Magic hadn’t saved him from Cazador. It was just a nice little trick to use when the rest of his abilities failed him.

“Is it the same for you?”

Nia pondered it for a moment. “It’s… as easy as breathing. I can’t see myself not using it, much less living without it. It’s an art in and of itself. One I will hone my whole life, like my elven brethren have done before me,” she explained.

Gale nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes.”

“Though I fear my feelings about it are not quite as intense as yours,” she teased.

“Perhaps I can show you what I mean by reaching into the Weave together.”

“Hmm, sounds interesting,” Nia replied. “By all means.”

“Then follow my lead.”

Astarion watched as both wizards got up and walked until there was a good space between them and Gale’s tent. Gale gestured with his hands in a way Astarion couldn’t understand. Blue light appeared from his fingertips. Magic. Astarion felt its reach even from where he stood. It called to him. Nia observed the demonstration with a small smile on her face.

“Now you,” Gale said, motioning for her to replicate his gestures.

She did so with ease. Astarion gasped as he saw her wielding magic. Gale might have been an archmage, but Nia breathed and lived magic. It was a pleasure to see her guide it with her fingertips. Gale must have thought the same, as he encouraged Nia to chant a spell with him. Suddenly, the two wizards were surrounded by more magic. Astarion instinctively knew what it was. A sliver of the Weave. It felt peaceful at first. Yet, the vampire could sense a sensuality about it, trickling down his hands. If it felt like this from a distance, he couldn’t imagine how potent the sensation was up close. Gale appeared to feel it too. He stood close to Nia; their faces so close they could’ve kissed. Astarion waited, dread settling in his stomach. Nia broke away, smiling as she touched the magic around them.

“Look, we’re channelling the Weave. How does it feel?”

“Incredible,” Nia said. “Sensual even. Though of course I could’ve managed it by myself, you know?” Her tone was playful, not biting.

“You’re hard to please, aren’t you?”

Oh, Gale had no idea.

Astarion glared at the pair. Why was it Nia seemed to be so enchanted by her fellow wizard? She never looked like she had as much fun with him. Astarion resented that.

As the magic flowed around them, there was a sense of anticipation in the air. He felt that something was about to happen. Nevertheless, just before it could, Nia let it, and the magic, fade away. Astarion sighed in relief.

“Goodnight, Gale,” she said walking towards her own tent when all was said and done.

“Goodnight,” the other wizard answered, with a hint of disappointment.

Astarion cheered internally. She’d rejected the wizard. Not in so many words, but her actions were clear. At least to him. However, he couldn’t help but wonder why. Gale was more suited for her than anyone else, in some ways. Both wizards, bookworms and with a penchant for kindness. He would never use her, Astarion thought with a grimace. Or hurt her. The thought wouldn’t leave his mind, so he prowled on her until he intercepted her before she could reach her tent.

“Astarion,” she panted. “You scared me.”

“So, I saw you with the wizard,” he said, trying to appear unbothered. “What as that about?”

Nia had the decency to fluster. “Oh? You saw that?”

“Hard not to when my tent is right next to his.”

“We were just channelling the Weave,” she replied. She looked timid, unsure.

“Is that what you wizards call a romantic rendezvous?” He said, irony dripping in his voice.

She quickly shook her head. “No, it was just magic.”

“Magic?” He said out loud.

“In the very literal sense.”

Astarion was not convinced. “You surely felt something, darling. Even I sensed the…eroticism surrounding you.”

He had expected Nia to redden even more, to deny it. She frowned instead. “I felt it. Though it wasn’t…” she moved her head, as if dispelling unwanted thoughts. “It wasn’t coming from me. I felt like I was experiencing someone else’s emotions, and the Weave was just the conduit.”

“Gale’s?”

She pursued her lips. “There’s something I don’t like going on with Gale.”

That took Astarion back. “What do you mean? Is it his condition?”

“Did you hear everything he said? About Mystra?” She whispered.

“He seems to be more devoted to his goddess than the cleric. Why?”

“Although Mystra is…as important to us as our parents, in the sense of the use of magic, the way Gale spoke about her made me think that he was describing…” she trailed off.

“A mother?”

“His lover,” she declared. There was finality in the way Nia spoke.

Astarion laughed. “So, he gets off at the thought of a beautiful goddess. He’d hardly be the first.”

“You don’t understand, Astarion. That’s taboo for us wizards.”

“Pfft. It must mean nothing. Gale’s just too dramatic, even when describing a goddess.”

“If you say so,” she said. “Anyway, it’s time for us to get to bed. Do you need to feed tonight?”

They had reached an arrangement that every few days, Astarion was invited to drink from her, to keep strong, of course.

He shook his head. “You had quite an adventure today, my dear. I’d hate to weaken you,” he said.

Nia smiled and then left for her tent.

The evening had left Astarion reeling. He didn’t think he was at risk of losing Nia to their companions, despite their best efforts. And yet, there was something that made him feel restless. Beyond his companions’ attempts to romance Nia, there was something else he couldn’t quite put his finger to.

The next few days would reveal that Nia, in fact, had been right about her suspicions. When the artifacts stopped working on Gale, their magic not having the desired effects, the wizard decided it was time he came clean to the group. As it turned out, Gale of Waterdeep was such a magic prodigy, he’d become Mystra’s lover.

“Are you telling me you made love to a goddess?” Nia asked with a scoff.

“Oh, yes,” was Gale’s proud reply.

“That’s taboo for our kind,” she said tersely. The same words she’d said to Astarion previously.

“We were companions, Nia. It was beyond what you may think. We just… enjoyed each other’s company. Body and soul,” he smiled reassuringly at her. “But even so, I desired more.”

Astarion was perplexed to discover he and the wizard had more in common than he’d thought. The vampire had his own ambitions. His were all about revenge and freedom, but he could accept he craved more than the hand he’d been dealt with. Gale, who seemed to have it all, wanted things he couldn’t reach. It had been his undoing. Now, there was a black orb stuck on his chest, consuming him. All for the ill-fated attempt to become as close to a god as a mortal could. Even Astarion, with all his contempt for the wizard, couldn’t stop himself from pitying him. His sympathies ended, however, when he learnt Gale could blow them up into oblivion. Of course, Nia, in her never-ending kindness, let him stay and proposed to find a cure for him. At this point, Astarion had expected it, so he did not care to fight her on her decision. It was Lae’zel who complained and threatened to get rid of the wizard if he so much as twitched.

Still, he realized Nia was tense. Past her charity, he saw the flames of anger behind her eyes. Most intriguing, he thought. Perhaps she wasn’t as saintly as he’d believed.

He found her later that night, throwing rocks at the nearby lake.

“It seems your instincts were correct, darling,” he greeted her.

Nia turned to look at him as if to acknowledge him. Then, she turned back to the lake. “He’s a fool,” she said as she threw another pebble. “To think he wanted to follow into Karsus’ footsteps.”

“Karsus? The Lord of Netheril?” Astarion asked.

“Yes. Every wizard knows that Mystra’s powers cannot be contained. Even the most remarkable wizard isn’t close to Mystra’s might. The tale of Karsus reminds us why we can never go to such lengths. Gale was an idiot, and because of his folly, we could all be doomed.”

Oh, so she was infuriated by his recklessness. Astarion had never seen her like this.

“Well, you told me so before, ‘love makes us all stupid’, isn’t that right?”

Nia turned around to look at him. “Was it love or ambition?” She wondered.

“In the eyes of a man, they can be interchangeable,” he shrugged.

“I suppose you’re right.”

They stayed in silence for a few seconds, staring at each other.

“But is that all that’s worrying you, darling? The high chance of Gale exploding and taking us all with him? Or is there something else?” He sashayed over to her, until they were face to face.

“What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I don’t know… aren’t you a little jealous?” He asked what he’d been dying to know.

“Jealous?” She repeated. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ve lived longer than Gale has and he’s a much better wizard than I am. I doubt Mystra herself would ever appear in front of me. Much less become my tutor. Being Mystra’s Chosen is but a dream to me. As far away as a shooting star,” she said, as she pointed at the darkening sky.

Astarion snorted. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, are you upset at Gale because he bedded Mystra, your goddess?”

He waited for Nia to flush. She didn’t. “I told you; it’s taboo for our kind,” she explained with a shrug.

“Yes, yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear. But what about your feelings? Does it upset you that his former lover is a goddess?” He pressed.

She rolled her eyes. “Why would that bother me?”

“Oh, don’t try and fool me. I saw how you looked at him when you were doing parlour tricks,” he accused her. “If you feel insecure, don’t be. I’ve never bedded a god myself, but I assure you, you’re as beautiful as one.”

Nia faltered. “I… it does bother me,” she said at last. “But not because I harbour any feelings for Gale.”

Astarion blinked. He’d wished for her to say so, yet he hadn’t thought she’d be so direct about it. “I thought you liked him.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Gale is nice. He’s kind and he knows a lot. I have fun talking to him. And it helps he’s not bad to look at either. In another life, he might have been my type.”

“I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

“But he’s my friend. Nothing more. I can’t see him as more. Gale is the type that wants to be loved and cherished. And he’s not over Mystra. I mean, would a mortal ever compare to a literal goddess?”

“If that mortal was you, then yes,” he unabashedly flirted with her, his fingers lingering on the pink strands of hair which framed her face.

She blushed this time at his words. “Oh, don’t tease me.”

He pulled his fingers away. “Fine. So, what you’re saying is, that you don’t find Gale attractive because he’s too needy?”

“I know he likes me… sort of. However, I cannot possibly encourage his advances because I don’t want any of that.” Her voice was so sure of itself it made Astarion raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“What? You don’t want to be loved and cherished?” He asked.

“Of course I do,” she replied. “Everyone wants that. I just don’t want to give love. I’m not good at that.”

“Is that why you’ve been single for the last five years?” He wondered, remembering their earlier conversation about lovers.

Her lips were set in a firm line, eyes boring into his. “Yes.”

That was not what Astarion had been expecting. To think someone as kind and devoted to goodness would be incapable of love. But love wasn’t something he could or wished to offer. It was pleasure. Sex. And though he was sure that for more stable individuals, the two were interconnected, they were clearly separated in his mind. The problem was if they were distinct things for Nia.

“And what would manage to break that celibacy of yours?” He asked, gesticulating between the two.

“Something fun,” she said nonchalantly, waving him off. “No strings attached.”

He grinned.

That he could do.

“You know,” he purred, as he reduced the distance between them. Their chests so close they almost brushed against each other. “I can be fun.”

She smiled. “Although I’m sure you’re exceptional company, I’m not interested.”  She pushed him back.

He pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“Goodnight, Astarion.” With that, she left him to his thoughts.

“You might not be interested now, my pretty darling, but when I’m done with you, you’ll come back begging me for more,” Astarion said into the night.

He would succeed where the others had failed.

That was his vow.

Chapter Text

Astarion whined.

He would never act so unrefined, mind you, but the dire situation at hand had pushed him over the edge. His hair. His beautiful white tresses were ruined. Gunk clung to it desperately, like a lover’s embrace. Tried as he might, he couldn’t get the chunks off it. Blood, grime, cobwebs, acid, and hells knew what else, covered his head. He could feel it as he tried to comb through each strand with his fingers. He cursed his vampiric body. Astarion would give up anything in this world if it meant he could see his own reflection and get rid of this fucking filth. He threw the rag he’d been using to clean himself on the ground. He started to hyperventilate, a string of curses leaving his lips as he tugged at his silver tresses.

“Astarion?” Someone said from behind him.

He immediately turned around, pupils dilated as his eyes narrowed on the figure standing there.

“You,” he spat. It came out like the nastiest of swears.

Before him stood the person responsible for his misery.

“What’s going on?” Nia asked dumbly with her dumb face. Oh, how he loathed her. If he hadn’t needed her, he might have pounced and ripped her throat out.

Alright.

Perhaps he was overreacting, but, at the moment, the wizardry elf was persona non grata in his book.

“Go away,” he shooed at her with a hand motion. He didn’t have any patience for her kindness today.

“What are you doing?” She tried again, ignoring the obvious signs that he wanted to be left alone.

“What does it look like I’m doing, you stupid buffoon?” He insulted her. “I’m trying to fix my hair, which you ruined.”

Nia visibly winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, yes. Apologising will surely help us go back in time so I can stop you from going into that cave. Or stop myself from following your idiotic ideas.”

It had been entirely her fault.

Let’s go into that cave, she’d said.

It must have treasure, she’d claimed.

Come on, Astarion, it won’t be so bad.

If by “not bad” she meant fighting off a ginormous spider and all her babies in a narrow cavern, he would hate to know what her idea of bad was. Alas, that is exactly what happened. Brunhilde, Lae’zel and him followed Nia into that blasted cave as they explored the Blighted Village. They were looking for more provisions, as things were still tense at the Emerald Grove after Kagha’s betrayal. They still hadn’t found Halsin, their First Druid, and every time they visited the grove, they were asked about it. Astarion hated all that. The druids should have been thankful Nia had even tried to help after all. No matter, they needed coin most of all. Somehow, Nia had gotten it stuck in her head that the caves around the village held treasure. To be fair, it’d been a good guess. If Astarion had wanted to bury gold, he would’ve chosen such a place. What none of them had expected was for the caves to be infested with spiders.

They’d gotten separated, as per Brunhilde’s request. She’d said they could explore more ground by splitting into two groups. Which left him with Nia. They usually paired up, not that Astarion minded. It helped with his plan to become closer to her. But, oh, he so wished he’d gone with Brunhilde and Lae’zel instead. As they’d walked in the total darkness of the cave, their dark vision barely helping, they stumbled headfirst upon an enormous egg sack. As it turned out, the mother hadn’t been far from there, for she ambushed them, screeching and vomiting acid on them. Her screech awakened her spawn, who immediately attacked. What followed was a tumultuous fight which involved different fluids being thrown at them. Yes, they had defeated the spiders at the end and had survived to tell the tale. However, the price to pay had been that of their cleanliness. The worst part was all they found were several journals, a pair of boots, robes which Nia had taken for herself, and an amethyst that looked like it could fit on a crevice somewhere. And all Astarion got was dirty hair.

He'd already bathed in the lake. He’d been the first too. Although he’d been as thorough as possible while scrubbing, he could still feel all the grime on his body. His hair was still slimy. It made him gag. Call him overdramatic, but he wanted to cry. His looks were the only thing that was his, even if he couldn’t see his reflection. It was part of his identity. Who was he if he wasn’t beautiful and elegant and clean and poised? Not Astarion, I’ll tell you that.

“Do you want any help?” Nia asked as he kept tugging at his precious curls.

“Don’t you think you’ve helped enough?” He countered, venom dripping from his voice.

To make matters worse, Nia’s damp hair was completely clean. There was not even a dust speck on it. He growled at her.

“Look, it’s okay if you’re angry at me─”

“I’m not angry, I’m furious─”

“─and I understand you don’t want to be around me right now. But, please, at least allow me to help you.”

He crossed his arms and refused to look at her.

“I can see where all the dirt is, you know?” She said with a small sigh.

Astarion struggled with himself. On the one hand, all he wanted to do was curse Nia to all the nine hells and throw her back in the caves. On the other, the less vindictive and more practical side of himself was begging him to see reason. Nia could see and help him wash away all the filth, it argued. Then, his hair would be restored to its former glory, and he could go back to being his beautiful, enchanting self. Nonetheless, the thought of getting revenge was too tempting.

Ah, alright. Screw it.

“Fine,” he agreed. “But if you ruin my hair, I will ruin you.”

Despite his words, Nia grinned at him like a fool.

“You won’t regret it.”

Oh, he was regretting it already.

“Wait here.”

She went to her tent, presumably to get some tools. Astarion remained on his stool outside his tent, miserably brushing through his locks. He must have been such a pitiful sight. He groaned, equal parts frustrated and embarrassed. Minutes later Nia returned with a basin filled with water, soap, another rag, and a comb ─hers he wagered, as he could spot a few blonde and pink hair strands tangled on the bristles.

“I’m going to wash your hair and then I’ll comb out any dirt on it. Sounds good?” She asked as she positioned herself behind him.

“Do whatever you must.” He waved her off with a hand motion, as he glared at the ground.

He expected her to start. She reached out for his head, only to hesitate on the next second, her breath hitching.

“What?” He asked, turning around to look at her. He feared she’d seen something unsightly on his hair. He became even more self-conscious. He searched her eyes, seeing the apprehension in them.

“Nothing. It’s just… can I touch your hair?”

Astarion blinked once. Then twice.

“Are you an idiot? Of course you can touch my hair. You’re here to clean it, aren’t you?”

“Sorry,” she muttered, voice soft. “It’s just last time Brunhilde tried to take a leaf out of your hair, you jumped so high you almost hit your head on a tree branch. Then, you hissed at her like a grumpy cat.”

Oh right. He remembered that day. They had been trekking the Sunlit Wetlands for what felt like hours. He’d been tired and prissy, he could admit that, when suddenly, he felt a hand on his hair. Immediately, memories of Cazador pulling at his head filled him. His instincts kicked in, and all he wanted to do was run away from there. He realised too late the half-orc had only been trying to help. He shook the memory away.

Astarion crossed his arms and pouted. “I don’t like to be surprised or touched without my permission.”

“I understand that, which is why I asked.”

Her gesture was kind enough, he felt he could let his walls down. “You can touch, comb, wash and dry my hair until it’s cleaned from all that filth. I will allow you the honour for today.”

“Got it,” Nia answered and went to work.

She carefully scooped a bit of water with a cup and wetted his hair. The water was warm against his scalp. With a flutter, Astarion’s mind registered she’d probably warmed it beforehand. He couldn’t ponder too much on that, because she started scrubbing his mane with soap. Her fingers were delicate. She scratched at him with gentle, soft motions that had him closing his eyes in enjoyment. Now he understood why the mutt followed Nia all throughout camp for a pet. The vampire let out a sigh in contentment. He heard giggles behind him.

“Why are you laughing?” He asked, opening a single eye.

“You really are a cat.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Cats are majestic, wondrous creatures.”

She hummed. “When I was a child, we used to have a big fat cat,” she mentioned as she worked. Astarion made a noncommittal noise for her to keep going. “He hated all my attempts to play with him, but he did love sleeping in with me. He purred so loudly I immediately fell back asleep. My father had to pull me out of bed every morning to have breakfast and get to my lessons.”

“I have a feeling you were a menace of a child.”

She laughed. “I very much was,” she replied as she washed the soap from his hair. “I miss that cat. He used to find the perfect sunspot on our garden, and he lay there for hours. He only came back inside for pets and food.”

“Smart cat,” Astarion commented.

“That he was.”

Once she was satisfied with her work, Nia used the rag to dry the excess water on his forehead. She patted his skin with light motions, so delicately he found himself falling asleep. Then, she abruptly stopped, waking him up from his short slumber. Astarion opened his eyes to find her in front of him.

“I’m going to start combing your hair now. Tell me if I pull too hard.”

“Don’t worry, darling. I do like a good hair pulling,” he said, giving her a wolfish grin.

She chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She hovered over him, her fingers gathering a few strands of hair and then combing through them. She stopped to get rid of the guck on it and went back at it. She was so close he could smell the soap in her, hear the beating of heart, feel her warmth. But that’s not what caught Astarion’s attention. Her breasts were at eye level. They were, of course, fully covered by her robe. They always were, annoyingly so. Before feeding on her, he hadn’t paid them much mind. Since then, however, he constantly glanced at them. He idly wondered what they looked like. He’d seen many breasts of all sizes in all his time bringing victims to Cazador’s lair. Though, he’d seen them all, somehow, he found himself feeling curious about hers. Would they be as soft as he imagined? He could almost feel the weight of them in his palm.

“You’re quiet,” Nia said. “That’s odd for you.”

“Just enjoying the view, my dear,” he said, voice sultry, as his eyes never left her chest.

She slapped his shoulder. It wasn’t hard. Playful would be the best word to describe it. “Eyes on my face, magistrate.”

“That is also a rather wonderful view, wouldn’t you agree?” He said, turning to look at her.

She had the decency to become flustered. “I’m already helping you. You don’t need to turn up the flattery.”

“But it’s so fun seeing how your skin turns pink. It goes well with your eyes.”

She laughed, shaking her head lightly. She moved to his back again, revealing the view of the camp. Most of their companions were staring at them with raised eyebrows and amused grins. Gale, however, was glaring at him. Astarion gave him a triumphant smirk, leaning his head against Nia’s chest. She didn’t move or push him away. The wizard scoffed and went inside his tent. He’d take that as a victory after Gale’s stunt with the Weave the other day. Just then, he noticed that Nia was humming something under her breath. It sounded familiar.

“What is that, darling?” He asked.

She stopped her combing. “Oh, it’s just an old elven lullaby my mother used to sing,” she said, tone shy.

“I want to hear it.”

Astarion wasn’t sure why he’d asked her that, but she complied. She started singing a little louder, for his ears only. He heard her sing in their native Elvish. He realised he didn’t recognise most words after not using them for two hundred years. Though the thought was depressing ─it was another piece of his identity he’d lost─ he felt strangely comforted by the melody. Nia’s voice was lovely if unsure. Relaxing. He closed his eyes as she combed his hair. He soon dozed off. His mind conjured images of a woman. He couldn’t see her face, yet he knew she was beautiful. Her hands were soft as they ran her fingers through his hair. She sang the same lullaby to him. “I love you, Astarion,” she said before kissing his forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

He opened his eyes. The dying light of the sun painting the world around him in oranges and pinks. Nia was still humming behind him, her hands gently running through his hair.

“I’m all done,” she announced. Astarion had a feeling she’d waited until he was awake to say that. “I’m not sure how to style it though,” she added. “I don’t understand how you can make your hair look perfect without a mirror.”

“I’m a man of many talents, my dear,” he said. He reached to feel his hair and found that, although it was slightly damp, it was soft to the touch and, more importantly, clean. A true smile blossomed on his face, his anxiety reducing until it vanished. “Thank you,” he said, looking for Nia’s eyes. He noticed his words and bit his lip. “Ah, I mean, you didn’t have to.”

She beamed at him. “Consider it my apology for being careless today.”

He nodded. “Well, if your career as a wizard ever grows stale, now you know you could work as a beautician.”

“In that case, I’ll call you for free advertisement.”

They chuckled together. Nia picked up the basin with the now dirty water, the rag and comb. Astarion reached for his own brush and started styling his hair. Decades of practice making his motions fluid. Nia stared at him until he had finished. Her cheeks were a bit pink, but it may have been a trick of the light.

 “Sorry again,” she said.

“Stop apologising, darling. It’s water under the bridge.”

“Right. Then, goodnight, Astarion.”

“Goodnight,” he said. “Nia.” He added her name as an afterthought. Her eyes widened for a moment. She recovered and, with one last smile, she disappeared into her tent.

Astarion sighed, content and satisfied. All was well in his world again.

“What are you looking at?” He said, glaring at Wyll and Karlach who were snickering and throwing glances his way.

“Nothing, nothing, my lad,” Wyll replied. “We’re just making a little bet.”

“If it’s against Gale, I’d like to join in.”

His words made the pair laugh louder.

Chapter Text

Waukeen’s Rest. It would have looked like a charming place, Astarion thought, if it hadn’t been for the fire consuming it. Alas, they’d been too late and now goblins had sacked it. Upon witnessing the aftermath, Wyll immediately joined the members of the Flaming Fist and aided them in dousing the fires. Nia hesitated. She was less prone to action than Wyll, but Astarion could tell she wanted to help.

“Let’s look for survivors,” she said after a few moments, sprinting in the direction of the burning inn.

With a sigh, Astarion followed. He didn’t want to smell like smoke. Yet he knew there was no stopping Nia when an idea got stuck in her head. Sure enough, they heard screaming and pounding from inside the building. They rushed upstairs, ignoring the flames licking at them. The screaming came from two different rooms, separated by the same hallway. Brunhilde sprinted into action, kicking the door open of one of the rooms. Nia went to the other door.

“Could you open this one?” She asked him.

“Consider it done.”

The rogue swiftly took out his bow and shot an arrow at the door. He shouldn’t have done that. An explosion followed, fire spreading everywhere.

“Fuck,” Nia said. She started coughing.

“Get down,” Astarion ordered. “Don’t breathe in the smoke.”

She did as she was told, dropping to her knees and crawling as Astarion manoeuvred them into the room, away from the flames. He was suddenly thankful for the fact he didn’t need to breathe. Nonetheless, he still felt his chest throb. This wasn’t good. They needed to get out of there and fast. He was about to haul Nia over his shoulder, when he saw a man, crushed under wooden planks.

“Help him!” Nia yelled.

Astarion stood still. He knew he could try to save him, but helping the man would eat away the time they had left to exit. He looked at Nia as she coughed. His hands twitched with indecision. He chose. He was about to grab and Nia and run, when he heard footsteps behind him.

“On it,” Brunhilde said, coming from his right. She pushed him out of the way and lifted the debris from the man.

The vampire blinked and Nia’s coughing brought him back to life. He cursed. He helped Brunhilde, taking the man by his shoulder and pulling him until he was upright.

“Thank you,” the man said. “Now how the hells do we get out of here?”

“Follow us,” Brunhilde answered and took his hand.

Astarion grabbed Nia, pulling her in his arms, and ran away with the other two close behind. Nia’s body raked as she coughed. She felt so frail against his chest. They needed to leave now. It was fortunate, then, the fire had not yet spread to the other room. They could breathe a bit better in there.

“No,” the man said once inside the room, falling to his knees. Astarion turned and saw the body of a woman, slumped pitifully on the wooden floor. “Miri, no, gods no, no, no, no!” The man sobbed. He took the woman into his arms, crying on her chest. “You should’ve stayed… you should’ve been with me.”

Brunhilde looked at him and then back at the man, awkwardly. She didn’t know what to do. Not that Astarion could blame her. It felt as if they were witnessing something not meant for them. The half-orc locked eyes with Nia. As always, their leader would know what to do. She always did. The wizard dropped from his arms and sat in front of the man, giving him one of her gentle smiles.

“How did you two get separated?” She asked, regarding the woman’s body. Astarion could tell she hadn’t died from the smoke. There was a puddle of blood under her. She’d fallen from the ceiling to her crushing death.

“I was in our room,” the man said. “We had a fight. If I’d just kept my mouth shut about that bloody dowry, she’d… she’d still be here.”

Nia nodded at him in understanding. “I don’t think there’s much you could’ve done,” she said, voice sweet. “What about the dowry?”

The man groaned. “It’s for her sister’s wedding. I made a stupid joke about keeping it. We argued about it for hours. Then she took the dowry and left. She said I’d never see her again. She was right.” The man cried more.

Nia visibly winced. “This isn’t on you,” she patted his arm. “There was no way you could’ve known.”

“I’m sorry, Miri. I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, lovingly caressing the woman’s cheek. “Please, just go. I need a moment with her.”

Nia narrowed her eyes in the way Astarion knew she did when something was bothering her. “Would you like to talk to her?” she asked.

“What?” The man exclaimed. “Are you…a medium or something?”

“Something like that,” Nia said.

“Then, could you ask her something for me?”

The wizard nodded. “What do you want me to ask?”

“The dowry. She’d know where it is.”

“Alright.”

They all watched as Nia chanted the spell. It glowed green and got into the woman. Her eyes and mouth glowed, and her body levitated. Astarion was always awestruck at witnessing this magic. He felt the power behind it.

“Hello, where is the dowry? Your husband wishes to know,” she asked.

The corpse spoke in an unnatural voice. It sounded spectral. Worse than the hag. “Dowry… for sister…in barn…”

“The barn?” The man wondered. “She must mean one of the empty buildings behind the inn. I trust you to get it for me. I can’t leave her.”

“Okay,” Nia accepted. “Would you like to ask anything else?”

The man shook his head, shedding fresh tears. “That’s not my wife anymore. Please let her rest.”

Nia let the spell fade away, the woman’s corpse falling onto the floor gently. The wizard stood up and motioned for them to follow her out of the building. The man wasn’t in immediate danger, but they could tell he wouldn’t move from the room regardless.

“I’ll help Wyll,” Brunhilde said. “You two go look for the dowry.”

“My pleasure,” Astarion answered. The half-orc nodded at him, missing his sarcasm, and left.

“We’ll give the man the dowry back,” Nia said. “Don’t start getting any ideas.”

“You wound me, my darling. I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Right.”

The two soon enough found the empty building.

“If I was dowry, where would I be?” Astarion asked out loud, as he walked around the room.

“Having fun?” Nia asked. There was no bite to it, but she seemed uncomfortable.

“I’m making the most out of a bad situation. I do like looking for stuff, particularly if it’s treasure,” he said. “Aha! Under the pile of hay.”

The two grabbed the pitchfork, looking for the chest buried there. It didn’t take them long to pull it out.

“Let me see, let me see,” Astarion said enthusiastically as he lockpicked the chest. It opened rather fast thanks to his Sleigh of Hand. Inside they found gold, an ingot and a gold ring. “Oh, pretty,” he cooed as the ring glinted in the sun. “I wonder if he’s going to give us a reward.”

“Don’t count on it,” Nia replied, taking the ring from his hand. “This must be the wedding ring,” she said.

“There probably won’t be much of a wedding if the bride’s sister is dead,” he said, shrugging. That earned him a sharp glare. “What? It’s true.”

“No matter how true that is, this chest will give the man some comfort. He’s going to need the gold to get his wife back home and give her a proper burial.”

Astarion pouted. “You never let me have any fun.”

Nia rubbed her forehead. “There are dead goblins around. You have my permission to keep the loot you get from them all to yourself.”

“Oh, darling, you’re the best!” He grabbed her hand and kissed it with a flourish.

“You’re far too easily convinced.”

“You just used my language. Now, shall we?”

“Let’s go.”

The fire had finally been contained. There were no more flames licking at them. The smoke, however, lingered, a dark cloud above them. The inn was now empty, except for the man who still grieved his wife. His laments echoed throughout the building, pitiful and sorrowful. Nia looked up at the stairs with sad eyes. Astarion nudged her.

“He’s still upstairs.”

They walked up in silence, only broken by the man’s sobs. Nia knelt in front of him.

“I believe this chest is yours,” she said.

The man looked up and sobered. He rubbed his eyes and accepted the chest from Nia’s hands. “I know this doesn’t change anything, but it helps. Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said. “If you need any help with…with anything, just tell us.”

The man nodded. He opened the chest and confirmed all the treasures were still there. He took some of the gold pieces and gave them to Nia. “Here, for your troubles.”

She accepted them with shaky hands. Astarion was sure she’d refuse, but then again, she was pragmatic, and they did need the money for more provisions. She stood to leave, when she tapped the man in the shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to her?”

That upset the man even more. “No! Let her rest. I will give her a normal goodbye, not whatever you did.”

Nia flinched. She turned around and motioned for Astarion to follow her. Once outside, she took a few of the gold pieces and gave them to him.

“Here, for you.”

Astarion was surprised but he quickly recovered. “Thank you, my dear. You spoil me.”

“It’s your cut. For helping the man, I mean. You deserve them.”

Something spread inside him, something awful and beautiful at the same time. The moment was interrupted by his mind whispering treacherously, You don’t deserve it. He clutched the gold pieces in his hands, trembling slightly. If Nia noticed, she didn’t say anything. Swallowing down his feelings, Astarion put the gold in his pouch and followed his companion out of the inn.

Back at camp, he found Nia once again looking at the stars as she sat on a rock this time. Astarion had expected her to leave for a moment to be on her own after the fiasco of the kidnapping of Wyll’s father and the dead woman in the inn. This situation wasn’t that different from Mayrina’s. Another tragedy, another attempt to help that had been unwanted. He had figured out Nia had perhaps lost a lover, and that’s why she reacted in such a way. When was that was hard to tell. She did say she’d been by herself for the last past years. A blink of an eye for an elf. If she’d suffered that tragedy just a few years ago, it would feel just like yesterday for her. Even so, she looked more resigned than anything else. For a moment, Astarion wondered if he should continue with his plan. Seducing her to only use her would hurt her further. That stopped him dead on his tracks. But why should he care, another part of himself argued. He didn’t want to make her fall in love. He wanted to make her lust after him. Completely separate things.

“I know you’re there, Astarion,” she suddenly said, breaking him out of his conflicting thoughts.

He walked towards her and sat next to her. “I was worried about you, you know?”

She raised that infamous eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“You inhaled a lot of smoke back there,” he answered.

“But I had my hero to save me,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“What would you do without me?” He quipped. “Speaking of which, death seems to follow you. Now it was the husband crying for his dead wife.”

Nia did not respond. She asked him another question instead. “If you lost someone you cared about, would you like to speak to their soul before burying them?”

The question momentarily stunned him. Astarion did not have any sarcastic commentary to give. He didn’t care about anyone but himself, so how was he to know? “Perhaps I’d ask them where they kept their gold,” he joked at long last.

Nia hummed. When she didn’t say anything else, Astarion got worried. Had he messed up?

“But, you know, I guess I’d like to say goodbye. Directly,” he added.

“I thought so too,” she replied. “Before today, I mean.”

“You wouldn’t use that spell if you were in that situation?”

“I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms. “The man from the inn was right. The voices of the dead sound spectral, not like them. Which begs the question, are you still you after death?”

“I’m the most qualified person to ask, my dear. I’m undead after all. And I’m still me, I suppose.” She looked at him without speaking. “Other than the red eyes, the fangs, the sanguine hunger, the lack of a reflection, among other things. But you get the point.”

“You don’t feel any… different?”

He sighed. This question was too personal. “I… well, after almost two hundred years, you can’t expect me to remember everything from when I was alive. Though I’m pretty sure I was a handsome bastard even back then. And elegant. Smart. An excellent marksman. A hedonist. And the protagonist of all the wet dreams of those who met me.” He resorted to his usual remarks, anything to keep her from seeing the scared creature he really was.

Nia laughed. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re still you despite it all. But are spirits the same after crossing over?” She pondered. “Every time we talk to one, they sound so far away.”

“Why would death have to change you?” Astarion said. “Yes, it’s painful. Believe me, I know. But why should it make you so different your loved ones wouldn’t want to say goodbye?”

“Maybe it makes you more… resentful? Or cold-hearted.”

“Oh, I’m resentful, but only at my former master.”

“You’re a little different. You’re not quite dead.”

He hummed. “I suppose that’s true.” Astarion fell silent. There was something he wished to say, though every single one of his instincts told him not to. Despite his reticence, looking at her sincere expression made him want to tell her. “I wish… I wish I could’ve said goodbye to my loved ones,” he muttered. Nia didn’t say anything. She just looked at him, neither with pity nor with contempt. “I don’t remember my family, but I do miss them. I don’t think love leaves you just because you die.”

“Saudade,” Nia said.

“What?”

“In another language from far away, it means ‘the love that remains.’ It’s used to describe a certain yearning for something you can’t have anymore,” she explained. “What you said reminded me of that.”

They stayed in silence, each digesting what the other had said.

“So even in death, you can love,” Nia mumbled.

“At least in my case, in specific for my family, I believe it’s true.”

The wizard nodded to herself. “So, goodbyes are not out of the question.”

“Darling, I wholeheartedly believe there’s no one in the realms who would object to a goodbye from you,” he said, as honest as he could manage.

She gasped, eyes round. Then she smiled. It was affectionate and heartbreaking and Astarion did not deserve any of it.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t even mention it.”

The silence returned. It was only broken by his companion’s breathing. It felt natural.

“If you die, I’m going to cast that spell to ask you about the gold, just so you know.”

Nia laughed. “I imagine you’d do that.”

Chapter Text

Astarion was getting tired of all the fighting, which was ironic coming from him. Even though his bloodlust was momentarily satisfied with all the battles they kept getting themselves into, he was exhausted from mending all his clothes. Every day, there was something new. Goblins, giant spiders, bandits, kobolds, owlbears, trolls. It seemed everyone and everything in their surroundings wanted to kill them. That meant, if he wasn’t careful, his clothes suffered ─he was losing coin at a rapid speed from all the thread he’d had to buy. Today was no different. They were attacked by gnolls. Wretched things, those monsters. It was sufficiently bad they started out as hyenas, but the forms they took upon their transformation were hideous. And irksome. For they were strong and hunted in packs. An annoying combination, to say the least.

They’d been surprised as well. They had been exploring the Risen Road when they came across a cave infested with those beasts. Nia, ever the altruist, asked them to help the caravan that was being attacked by the gnolls. They’d been almost decimated, and they were barely holding on.

“There better be a mighty reward,” was all that Astarion said before shooting an arrow in one of the monsters’ eyes.

The battle was a complete chaos. The gnolls managed to surround them on both sides. Nia’s Cloud of Daggers had done little to deter them. Astarion tried to get the high ground, however, it was impossible. He took his daggers out and decided to favour melee attacks, while Nia got his back, throwing spells left and right. Behind them, Wyll attempted to keep them at bay, while Brunhilde, who had managed to climb up a rock, shot arrows at the monsters. The gnolls started dying one by one, but the leader, now, that creature was a tough one to beat. Feeling frustrated after it kept being unaffected by their combined attacks, Astarion jumped on the chance to bite the leader. Its blood was rancid, tasting of rotten meat. It made him gag, yet it still healed his wounds. Reinvigorated, he continued with the onslaught. His thoughts, though, drifted as the minutes went by. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was return to camp, bury himself in all his pillows, and read a good book. His desires pushed him forward, expertly avoiding the gnoll’s slashes thanks to his rogue abilities.

“Astarion, look back!” He heard Brunhilde shout from the rock.

He didn’t have time to react. The gnoll’s maw was about to grab onto his leg, when he was pushed to his side. Nia took his place, the gnoll gnawing onto her leg making her scream. The pain didn’t stop her from using Shocking Grasp to hurt the creature, though. The gnoll contorted in pain, releasing her with a pop. Nia fell back, recovering.

“Now!” She yelled.

Astarion didn’t need to be told twice. He started attacking with all his might. Behing him, Brunhilde shot more arrows and Wyll used his warlock powers to decimate the few left standing. Nia’s magic missiles were fired, and finally, the last gnoll died with a screech.

“Thank you!” Rugan, one of the surviving members of the caravan, came out of his hiding spot. “You’ve saved us,” he said, enthusiastically shaking Nia’s hand.

She flinched, the sound sharp enough to make them all notice. That’s when it hit Astarion. The delicious smell of her blood. She was bleeding profusely from her leg. He ignored the pangs of hunger he felt and replaced them with guilt. She’d been hurt trying to save him.

“Here, take this,” Wyll said, giving their leader a healing potion.

“Thanks,” she said, immediately drinking its contents.

The magic did its work, and the wound healed instantaneously. Her green robes, however, had been torn. It was a miracle her leather leggings had resisted, but the same couldn’t be said about her tunic. The gnoll had made a large hole, creating a slit. Nia cursed.

“Shit, it’s going to take me long to repair this.”

“At least you didn’t lose your leg,” was Brunhilde’s amused reply.

Astarion couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Not even a thank you. He just watched as Nia resumed her conversation with Rugan. The man gave her the password to the Zhentarim Basement, a hideout in Waukeen’s Rest, where they could buy unusual items that could serve them in their journey. Brunhilde and Nia thanked the man, and decided that’s where they would go next, as they needed to stock up on provisions and Brunhilde wished to buy a new weapon. She’d acquired a nice enough selection for herself, choosing different ones depending on her needs for the day.

“New weapons and potions could come in handy,” Wyll agreed.

That said, they rested for a short while and then went straight ahead to Waukeen’s Rest.

Astarion looked on as Nia struggled to mend her robe.

He shook his head at her.

It was clear as day that she’d never had to fix her own clothes before this adventure. Her technique was all wrong and the hole was too big to be repaired easily. Her hands were clumsy as she put the thread in the needle. She’d pricked her fingertips several times already. It was a lost cause. She’d been foolish to have spent most of her gold in saving a man from slavery instead of buying new clothes. He could appreciate the sentiment, but he disapproved of her wasting her resources.

(Some part of himself was just upset the artist had been saved. Astarion had waited for two hundred years for someone to have this much sympathy for him. And yet, no dashing hero, no prince charming had come his way. Not that he’d ever tell Nia. He didn’t want her pity.)

He sighed as he eyed his package.

Astarion’d had enough coin to spare to buy from the traders. And for the first time since he’d owned gold of his own, he didn’t purchase anything for himself.

He’d gotten Nia new robes.

They were green and utterly dull. They didn’t match her complexion nor her eyes at all. Dreadful things they were, but she favoured them for walking, she’d told him once. He believed that as she was too weak for even light armour. They covered most of her body, so he guessed that had to do with it. They were the least expensive thing on the stands too, which is why he’d bought dye. Lavender dye, the trader had told him. He’d wanted pale pink at first, thinking it would match the pink tips on her hair. However, it was so rare it’d been sold out already. Lavender was the next best thing. He’d hoped that it would match her eyes. He’d used it on the robes already. Though not the same colour, it was infinitely better than that dismal green. He’d already wrapped the clothes and tied the package with a nice little bow. His plan was to give it to her tonight, yet he hesitated.

Astarion didn’t know why. He wasn’t even sure why he’d gotten the robes in the first place. All he’d known was that Nia had saved him from sustaining an injury and having to mend his trousers tonight. He didn’t enjoy feeling as if he owed anyone anything, and in a whim, he’d gotten her a gift. It seemed her foolishness was contagious because here he was, standing in his tent like an utter moron, observing her godsawful skills at stitching.

“By the hells,” he cursed.

He left his tent and sashayed straight to the campfire, where Nia was attempting, and failing, to mend her robes.

“You’re some kind of elven princess, aren’t you?” He said as he plopped next to her.

“I’m sorry?” His leader said, taking her eyes away from her robes.

Astarion pinched his nose. “You have no idea how to stitch. You’ve never had to, have you?”

Nia sighed. “Fine. Yes, I was raised in some riches, and I’ve always had enough to spare on a seamstress, except for the random stitching on socks. No one cares if those aren’t done nicely,” she muttered the last part to herself.

He snorted. “Why don’t you use magic?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m that familiar with that sort of magic, and I’m too exhausted to use cantrips right now,” she answered. She crossed her arms. “Maybe Gale knows.”

“Ugh, don’t go to him. Here, let me see.” Nia gave him her robes, giving him a questioning look. “You were never going to go far with this stitching,” he answered.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Allow me,” he replied.

“What?” Nia said, dumbfounded.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, let me help.”

Wordlessly, she passed him her robes and the needle. Astarion expertly began redoing her stitches, the hole vanishing as he went about his work.

“Do you do this often?” She asked him, observing his stitching.

“When you live in a dungeon, darling, you have to learn everything you can to survive, and this includes mending your own clothes,” he said, his voice even. It still earned him the same gasp as whenever he shared anything from his previous life to Nia.

“You never got new ones?” Was her frail question.

“Not unless I stole them,” he said, shrugging. “I was much like you were in my past life… I think. I had to learn most everything when I became a spawn. But after nearly two centuries, you become an expert at most things,” he said as he finished. “There, all done.”

Nia stared at his work in awe. “It looks as good as new,” she said, tracing the stitches with her fingers. The action was delicate. All of her was delicate, he supposed.

Astarion preened under her compliments. “Now, now, my dear, flattery will get you everywhere.”

She chuckled. Then, she inspected his clothes. “Don’t tell me you embroidered your doublet?”

“Of course, I did,” he said. “Where would I get such pretty things with Cazador?”

For some reason, her eyes watered but she blinked the tears away. “Thank you for helping me, you didn’t have to.” Her voice was too sweet, too sincere, it made his dead heart clench painfully.

The vampire scoffed. “Of course I had to, I’m the reason you got hurt in the first place.”

“Astarion,” Nia muttered, “is this your way of thanking me?”

“Don’t think any of it,” he replied, waving her off. “Consider this my debt being repaid.”

Her lips trembled, and then she gave him the brightest smile he’d ever seen on her face. “I’ll accept it. Thank you.” She pulled her robes to her chest. “I do hate to be wasteful, and now I won’t have to get rid of these.”

“Well, you can if you must,” he said awkwardly. The campfire suddenly felt too hot on his cheeks.

“What do you mean?” Her confusion was adorable.

“Wait here,” he said.

Astarion left to his tent and came back with his wrapped package. He softly put it on her lap.

“My original plan was to give you this instead, but since I saw you struggling so much with a simple task, I couldn’t help showing you how it’s done,” he explained. When all his companion did was stare at him like he’d grown two heads, he motioned to the package. “Go on, open it.”

Nia didn’t need to be told twice. She carefully unwrapped the package revealing the deep purple of new robes. She squealed.

“Are these for me?” She said, touching the fabric.

“Well, obviously, whose eyes would match them if not yours?”

The tips of her ears turned a little pink at his words.

“Thank you. I shall take great care of these.”

“Well, if you don’t, you know who to call. My prices are fair, I’ll let you know.”

She giggled at that. “I wouldn’t mind paying you.”

After a quick goodbye, Nia disappeared into her tent with both her old and new robes.

Next morning, Astarion found her outside her tent wearing her new lavender robes.

He was right.

They did match her eyes.

Chapter Text

For days now, Astarion had been setting up his tent right next to Shadowheart’s, bidding his time. He knew it would happen sooner rather than later since that night. The cleric looked at him oddly every time he saw him putting his stuff next to hers. He only grinned at her. “Is something the matter, my dear Shadowheart?” He would ask her, knowing it would infuriate her. She would grumble at him and scoff, leaving him before she could question him. It was for the best. He couldn’t let her know that he was spying on her.

Fortunately, after a painstaking tenday, it finally happened. Right after dinner, Astarion observed as Shadowheart approached their fearless leader. Nia was washing the dishes as she did every single night, attempting to have some sort of routine amidst the chaos, or she’d said. She hadn’t noticed the half-elf’s presence until she tapped her shoulder.

“Oh, Shadowheart,” the elf said, “I didn’t hear you coming. Do you need something?”

“I was thinking…” Shadowheart said, helping her dry the dishes.

“Yes?”

“It seems to be the perfect night to spend a little time together, just you and I,” she said. “Assuming you haven’t changed your mind, of course.”

Nia stopped her washing to nod enthusiastically at her. “Of course I haven’t changed my mind. Lead the way.”

Their leader was all friendliness and happiness, which could be easily misconstrued as something more. Astarion, in all his expertise, knew that Nia’s intentions were pure. The flush of interest was missing from her overall countenance as were the tell-tale signs of arousal. There was nothing romantic about her enthusiasm, but Shadowheart, bless her, didn’t catch on any of that.

She giggled at Nia, her own cheeks pink. “Not right now. Let’s wait until everyone falls asleep, and meet me here,” she said, giving the wizard a map.

Nia nodded, “Okay, I’ll see you then. Want me to bring something?”

“Oh no, I have it all planned.”

Shadowheart winked at her, and the two went their separate ways, Nia to their communal chests, to put all the dishes away, and Shadowheart to her own tent. She passed by Astarion, who raised his eyebrows at her.

“What are you looking at, Astarion?” His name was snarled like a curse.

“Oh, nothing, dear. Just thinking it’s quite a beautiful night, don’t you agree?”

“I… guess…”

“The perfect night for some debauchery,” he added as an inside joke he was only privy to.

Shadowheart glared at him. “You better keep your fangs to yourself.”

“Oh, I will, the question here is will you?”

She didn’t give him a proper response. Instead, she carried on until she disappeared into the safety of her tent. Astarion chuckled. So adorable, and yet so thorny, just like a rose. And so unaware of his true intentions. There was no way he was going to let them be tonight. Despite his assurance in Nia’s lack of romantic attraction for Shadowheart, he did not want to take any risks. The other wizard was enough trouble as it was, he didn’t need the cleric thrown into the mix. He would track them down and observe. Learn what he needed and use it as leverage. Find what Nia liked, what she hated, and use that information for his own benefit.

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” he whispered, “for being so helpful.”

Night fell, and soon it was time to sleep for most of his companions. Not that he had the need to sleep, he was in trance for a few hours and that was enough to sufficiently rest. An added bonus of being both an elf and a vampire. Still, it was a custom by now to have Nia come and say goodnight to all their companions, himself included.

“Good night, Astarion,” she said. “Have sweet dreams.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” he said, laughing to himself when he saw her surprised face. “You too, my darling. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

She nodded and left to her own tent, where she would stay until she was sure all of them were asleep. Astarion lay on his pillows and waited in silence. He stayed there for about forty minutes, bored out of his mind, till he heard the distinct rustling of Shadowheart’s tent next door. Oh, it was showtime. He waited for ten more minutes, and then he heard Nia’s tent opening. He gave her a head start, just enough to avoid suspicion. Once he was certain the two women would not suspect him, he left his tent. He trailed after them, wondering what they could be doing. They were either talking about something boring, or they were already in the throes of passion. There was no in between in his mind. Although, he was counting on the two just having a conversation. He really couldn’t see them doing much more.

After some time, Astarion lost the trail, which distressed him. He was supposed to be an apex predator. A nocturnal beast. He couldn’t have simply lost them. And yet he had. He groaned in frustration. Cazador’s mistreatment of him hadn’t prepared him for a true hunt. He was but a city boy. He wasn’t used to the woods, even if he had spent several weeks in the great outdoors already, as he and his party tried to find a cure. No matter. Astarion wasn’t going to give up. He was a vampire, after all. He could do this.

He sniffed around, trying to pick up a scent, anything that could hint at their location. He needn’t wait long. Soon enough, he smelt something ─ sweat, steel from armour, a taste of anticipation, arousal. The vampire had found his prey. He followed the scent, taking note of the footprints on the ground and broken branches, evidence that someone had walked over there. The trail eventually led him to some ruins behind camp. The group had been inside before, searching for hidden treasure and supplies. Astarion had personally disarmed several of the traps, and Brunhilde had marked the spot of others. It was a safe place to be. To talk. To do more. He had reached the right place.

The rogue sneaked around, careful not to step on twigs or kick rocks. Nia had a sharp ear, and Shadowheart as a half-elf was close behind. They would know if he was there, and then, what would he tell them? He could use his hunting as an excuse, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t believe him. He stayed in the shadows, making his way towards the entrance. That’s when he heard it. First, it was nothing but a whimper, though soon it became more. It echoed in the ruins and outside, where he stood. The sound of guttural and passionate moans. His expression fell. Astarion hadn’t considered it could be a possibility. Yet, there it was. Followed by the sounds of skin against skin, and more cries. The voices were deeper than he’d expected, but feminine all the same. Since they were distracted, he made haste until he reached the entrance. There were candles everywhere, illuminating the area in a romantic, golden light. Someone had taken the time to make this a rather delightful experience, he thought. And there, he saw them. Two figures entangled in one another, the sound of heaving as they were enthralled in their passionate coupling. The two women glided their tongues in each other’s mouths, hands grabbing at whatever they could grasp. Astarion stared at them in morbid fascination.

The women… were decidedly not Nia and Shadowheart. For one, they were too tall to be either of them. The other giveaway was the colour of their skin. Green. Astarion smirked as he saw Lae’zel dominating Brunhilde. He almost took notes of all the delicious things Lae’zel was doing to the half-orc. Oh, she would be limping tomorrow, that was for certain. Who knew Lae’zel could be as arduous in bed as she was in battle? The vampire chuckled and let them be. It was a rather interesting turn of events. He stored that information and left.

He had half a mind to go back to his search but decided against it. He was tired after the day he’d had. And hungry. He didn’t think for a minute Nia and Shadowheart would do anything remotely similar as the green women. He supposed he didn’t need to spy them after all. The vampire went in search of prey instead and soon found a doe. It was a precious specimen, yet its blood was even more sacred to him. He pounced and drained the poor animal until he was satisfied. With a full belly, he returned to camp and threw himself onto his pillows. Astarion decided it’d be alright if he slept for a few hours. He would definitely hear Shadowheart come back given the closeness of their tents. With that, he closed his eyes and allowed his trance to begin.

Astarion was awakened by steps. Someone was coming back to camp. It was just one person, one of the four who were currently missing. The steps were too heavy to be Nia’s, and too light to be Brunhilde’s or Lae’zel’s. They were headed to his tent. To her tent. Shadowheart. The vampire could hear her heartbeat, could notice the distinct pattern of it. It signalled she was angry. If her heart hadn’t given her away first, her huffing would have. She stomped all the way into her tent and closed the flaps with a harsh motion. Minutes later, Astarion heard someone else come back. The person hesitated, taking a few steps towards Shadowheart’s tent, before going to her own. That was Nia.

This was… not what Astarion had expected. He mused on what could have happened to make the night end this way. He had guessed they wouldn’t kiss or do anything Brunhilde and Lae’zel were currently doing, but he’d figured they would enjoy their time together. His guess was that Nia had rejected Shadowheart’s advances in one way or another. Surprising, given how Nia had gone about Gale. Perhaps Nia had been clearer with Shadowheart or the cleric understood social cues better than the bumbling wizard. In any case, Astarion was curious. He decided to ask their fearless leader all about it in the morning. Given his curiosity would have to wait, the rogue closed his eyes and let himself drift away in his reverie once more.

A few hours later, he was up and ready for the day. However, he kept to his tent. He waited patiently until he heard Nia walking over to Shadowheart’s tent. When he heard her unmistakable footsteps, Astarion prepared himself to eavesdrop on them.

“Shadowheart…um…hi,” Nia said. Even from his tent he could tell she felt awkward.

“All’s well I hope?” Shadowheart answered.

“Yes, erm…” the wizard stuttered. Astarion could hear her clothes shifting, as if she was moving from side to side. “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”

The cleric sighed and then chuckled. “I was going to say the very same thing…as soon as I worked up my courage a little.” She sounded hopeful still.

“I didn’t like how we left things,” Nia said.

“Me neither. I… I can’t recall the last time I shared so much with someone. Maybe I never did before. It meant a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”

Shadowheart’s heart pounded inside her chest. Astarion could almost picture her blood painting her cheeks red. It was strange to hear the cleric so open and dare he say sweet. It was a far cry to how she acted with the others. It spoke mountains about her feelings for Nia. This was a confession, Astarion realised. Her words made his undead heart wrench painfully. His own intentions paled in contrast to Shadowheart’s honest ones. She wanted Nia for who she was. Astarion only wanted to use her. He half wished Nia would accept her, would kiss her and fix whatever had been broken last night, so that this plan of his could fizzle out. However, he wasn’t counting on one thing.

“I thought you were going to kiss me,” Shadowheart continued.

“I…”

“I wanted you to kiss me,” she finally said, cementing her true feelings.

Nia audibly gulped.

“You mean a lot to me too,” she replied. Her voice was shaky. “You are my closest friend.”

“Friend? Is that all I am to you?”

“I value your company, Shadowheart. But… not like that.”

Astarion could feel the cleric deflating.

“Oh… I see. Well in that case, I suppose there’s nothing more to be said on the matter.” Shadowheart was angry, he could tell. “Thank you, anyway. For your company.”

He heard Shadowheart walking away. Nia groaned.

Astarion felt this was his cue to leave his hiding place. He strutted out and made a show of stretching his arms. Nia had her head buried in her hands, muttering things.

“It’s such a fine morning, is it not?” He asked, circling her as he moved. “It has… something romantic about it,” he elaborated, moving his hands in grandiose gestures as he spoke.

Nia turned to look at him then. The purple bruises under her eyes suggested a lack of sleep that paired well with her glare.

“Are you done?” She said, voice gruff.

“Oh, someone woke up with their left foot this morning.”

“I’m not in the mood right now,” she said through gritted teeth, though she didn’t take a step away from him.

“I wonder if our resident cleric has something to do with it,” he said, examining his nails.

“Were you spying on us?” Nia accused him.

“It’s hardly spying when my tent is right here and you two don’t use your indoor voices.” The wizard looked admonished after listening to his words.

“Right… how much did you hear?”

“Well, the entirety of your conversation, darling,” Astarion said. “Though I’m missing some context.”

Nia rubbed her forehead. “How much time do you have?”

“All morning.”

“Come.”

His companion led him to a patch of grass close to the lake. She sat down and patted the spot next to her. Astarion didn’t hesitate. He followed suit and observed her fidgeting. He got some sick enjoyment out of it, to see Nia affected and not aloof. To know she had wants as everyone else. She was not an almighty hero.

“So,” he started when Nia remained silent. “Whatever happened last night? I heard something about a kiss.”

The wizard groaned again. “It wasn’t meant to be like that. We were supposed to just talk.”

“Come now, darling. Just talk? In the middle of the night? I didn’t think you were that innocent,” he quipped, enjoying her flustered expression.

“We’re alone and talking right now, Astarion.”

“Who’s to say I won’t kiss you at the end of this conversation, my dear?” Her glare stopped him. “Okay, I’ll stop teasing you. Go on, I want to hear all the dirty deeds.”

She groaned. “There are no dirty deeds. We met to spend time together. We drank some wine─”

“Without me? Darling, I’m hurt.”

“─and we just talked,” she finished. He motioned for her to continue. Nia hugged her knees to her chest. “She told me about herself. I told her about my life in Baldur’s Gate. We laughed. We gossiped. We kept drinking. We lay on the ground and looked at each other. And yes, I did feel it in the air. I did think she wanted me to kiss her. I almost did. But I didn’t. That upset her and we cut our evening short.”

Astarion looked at his nails. “That was a rather dull evening. Where was the passion?”

“There’s no passion,” she deadpanned.

He scoffed. “You almost kissed her. Why didn’t you?”

“It’s complicated.” His companion shrugged, staring at the morning sky.

“Then please, enlighten me.” Astarion touched her shoulder and with a head motion, asked her to keep going.

Nia sighed. “Yes, Shadowheart is beautiful. And she’s one of my closest friends. Which is why this cannot be anything but platonic.”

“Why? You can’t have a little fun with her?” He said, alluding to their earlier conversation about Gale. That is all she wanted, wasn’t it? A fun time.

“She’s not the type of person you just have a little fun with,” she replied.

“Yes, I suppose she’s too serious for that.”

Nia shook her head. “That’s not it. She wants a proper courtship, I can tell.”

Astarion frowned. “And you won’t give that to her. Why?” He was curious about her reasonings. What was about Nia that made her so reticent to love?

“Because, in the past, the only thing I’ve done is hurt people like Shadowheart. She’s guarded as it is, and I don’t trust Shar. She needs someone who will stay.”

They stayed in silence for a while, both looking at how the light reflected on the leaves of each tree around them. Astarion mulled over her words.  “And you won’t? Stay, I mean,” he eventually said.

Nia shook her head. “I don’t think I would, no. Not in the way she wants, I mean.” Her words were small but sincere. She hugged her knees even closer, burying her head against them. “I… I know you lot think highly of me, but if you knew some of the things I’ve done, you’d know why I can’t court Shadowheart. I’m not in love with her, but she’s my friend. And I care about her. I wanted to be closer to her, yes, as friends. I’m sorry if she misinterpreted my feelings. It wasn’t my intention. And then wine got involved…” she sighed.

Astarion almost pitied her. Almost. She was bending over backwards to explain something that should have been simple to understand. Nia was not attracted to Shadowheart, as beautiful as the half-elf was. It didn’t matter how close they were if there was no heat on her part. It was too early in their acquaintance to talk about love ─at that, Astarion rolled his eyes─, yet not too early to know if there was passion there. The vampire knew there wasn’t. It couldn’t be helped. A sad turn of events for Shadowheart, but not so much for Astarion. He still had a chance. His plan couldn’t crumble. He still needed their leader.

“Huh? Should I be jealous that Shadowheart is your best friend?” He said to lighten the mood. He nudged at her, making Nia sit upright again.

She chuckled at his words. “You’re my friend too. My close friend,” she explained, her shoulder touching his in what Astarion assumed was a show of camaraderie.

“Oh, darling. I’m happy to have a place in your heart,” he added, doing a mock bow, earning a giggle from her. His lips curled upward without meaning to.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she replied, nudging him back. “You’re behind Shadowheart and Brunhilde… possibly, Karlach,” she listed with her fingers.

He pouted. “I’m a better friend, you know,” Astarion said. “I listen to you when your undergarments are in a twist, such as now.”

She laughed at that. “I reckon you are my shoulder to cry on.”

“A fair exchange, as I nibble your neck.”

More laughter ensued, and suddenly Nia was back to her happy self, the events of the previous night forgotten in his company. It felt… nice, Astarion thought. To be useful for something that wasn’t murdering, thieving or fucking. To know the woman by his side trusted him enough to tell him her problems. That he had the ability to make her feel better. His plan became an afterthought as they talked, laying on the grass, their troubles a distant memory which didn’t interfere with their present.  

“But speaking of friends, you’ll never guess which of our dear companions I found in quite a compromising situation last night when I went hunting.”

Her eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Who?”

“Why, I heard some strange noises as I searched for prey. I followed them, thinking someone might be in trouble,” Astarion said, all theatrical. “But as I approached the ruins behind camp, I saw our second in command and the githyanki all tangled up in each other.”

Nia gasped. “Brunhilde and Lae’zel? No… I don’t believe you,” she said, scandalized.

“Oh, but I’m serious, darling. The two were moaning so loudly I’m surprised they didn’t wake up everyone at camp. And they were going at it like wild rabbits in heat.”

The wizard started laughing, little snorts coming out of her. “At least someone had an eventful night.”

“Oh, indeed. I’d be surprised if Brunhilde can walk today, let alone fight.”

Raised eyebrows ensued.

“Why? What did they do?”

“Well, you see…”

Chapter Text

“Done,” Astarion said as he opened another chest with ease.

Brunhilde approached him, patting him on the back, and gestured for him to move out of the way. It was no secret the half-orc didn’t trust him with the loot. Or anyone else for the matter. She always opened each chest and each crate herself, looked at the contents, and handed out the treasures accordingly. Astarion got a cut for each chest and door he lockpicked, so he couldn’t complain. Though, he had taken note of a peculiar thing that happened every time they found treasure.

In this particular chest, they found coins, ingots, a letter, a mace and a ring. Not bad at all. Brunhilde put all the contents inside her bag, muttering to herself that the mace looked nice. She gave most of the coins to Astarion, “for your good work,” she said, talking to him as if he were Scratch, which made him roll his eyes. Then, she took the ring and gave it to Nia without another word. The wizard oohed and aahed as she regarded it.

“This one has magic in it,” she announced. She put it on and smiled. “I’ll need to analyse it back at camp.”

She always said that, however they never saw the rings again. Or any jewellery for the matter. It was customary for Brunhilde to give their leader every necklace, bracelet, ring or amulet that she found. If it was magical, Nia would go gaga over it, claiming she needed to study its properties. If it was regular, she’d wear it on occasion. Sometimes, he saw her selling those when trading. But, in general, she kept all of them hidden in her tent. Brunhilde had never questioned her, or at least not that Astarion knew, and it seemed an agreement between the two. If weapons were found, they’d hand them out accordingly. If no one was interested, they would sell them and use the coins for provisions. Jewellery, on the other hand, went solely to Nia, and they would never see those pieces again. She’d even tried very hard to avoid using them to feed Gale, sacrificing other artifacts perhaps more useful, such as boots. Their other companions didn’t care, though. Except for Astarion. Of course, he wanted anything that was flashy and gold, and if it was magical, the better. Although he guessed he couldn’t protest too much. Nia had given him a Ring of Shadows not that long ago, which he cherished as one of the few new items he had. That didn’t stop him from wondering why Nia wanted so much jewellery, even the ordinary ones.

Once the thought had entered his mind, Astarion couldn’t get over it. He constantly thought about it, every time he saw her grab another necklace or another amulet. He knew she was a very curious wizard, and he didn’t doubt her when she said she’d study the magical ones. She even used some of the pieces in battle. To her, that magic must have been precious. Despite that, he knew there had to be more to it. He was aware their fearless leader, as kind and altruistic as she was, cared for frivolities. She styled her hair in an elaborate updo of two braided buns and two braids hanging behind her, giving her a rather elegant appearance even as they adventured. The tips of her hair were a pale pink; it was probably dye, but it looked rather good with her chosen hairstyle. She too wore makeup every day. Black eyeliner defined her almond-shaped eyes, and her lips were of a luscious magenta. He’d heard her tell Karlach once she bought her makeup at the Emerald Grove, and that she knew a spell that gave her the desired colour on her lips. She wore earrings, two on each ear, pearl ones on her lobes and silver hoops at the top of her pointed ears. Her eyebrows were neatly plucked, and she tried to bathe whenever it was possible. She’d even shared lavender soap with the lot of them, something Astarion appreciated. He too had noticed the glimmer in her eyes when he’d given her robes that matched her eyes. In short, she did care about her looks, enough that wanting to wear jewellery wasn’t strange. His question was why he never saw most of the pieces on her.

This insidious thought soon became such an obsession, he couldn’t trance. Not that he slept much to begin with, but even those few hours got disturbed now. What started as simple curiosity was ravaging his brain. Astarion started thinking that she must use the pieces inside the tent. The how and the why were the dilemma. As the days passed by, his sleep-deprived mind conjured the most peculiar scenarios to answer his own questions. He imagined the elf throwing all her accumulated pieces on the ground and making snow angels with them, laughing with glee. He thought about the wizard spending night after night chanting spells to infuse the jewellery and amulets with magic. Perhaps Nia needed all that gold for some ritual or another. He once had joked that she was an elven princess, but what if it was true? Maybe she grabbed her rings and necklaces at night, and cried, wishing to go back to her life of luxury. In a particular hot night, he envisioned Nia lying on her bedroll with all the jewellery on her naked body, touching herself and moaning the name of a roguish prince who would come to save her. The imagery stirred something in him, he couldn’t lie.

At long last, it came to a point he couldn’t resist it anymore. If he didn’t find out why she needed so much jewellery, he feared he might become insane. An opportunity finally presented itself when his companion decided to dip in the adjacent river one night for a well-deserved bath.

“Don’t wait up for me,” she’d told them, as she took her things and left, humming a song.

It was perfect. She would probably take her sweet time in her bath for some time of relaxation. In another life, Astarion might have spied her, perhaps even propositioned her, but not tonight. No. Tonight he would look for clues to what she did with all that gold and silver. After dinner, when his companions had gone to their respective tents, Astarion sneaked into Nia’s. It had barely any stuff. A stool outside for her to sit, and inside she only kept her bedroll, a pillow, a chest, and a blanket with patches. Her bags were in a corner of the room, opened haphazardly to take new clothes out, no doubt. There was a book on the bedroll, one of the poetry tomes he’d shared with her, and her journal, the one she diligently wrote on each and every day. The vampire idly wondered what she might have written about him, yet he didn’t dare open it. He couldn’t afford to get distracted. His ruby eyes took in the space; they moved side to side until they zeroed on a jewellery box, hidden behind her bags. Aha! He thought, that must be it. He approached it and took it in his hands. The box was black with pink and purple flowers painted on them. Feminine and elegant. It had a lock he could easily pry open, but why do that when the key had been very obviously laid on top of her robes. He tsked. He’d need to teach Nia to be more careful. Astaeion took the golden key, and with fluid motions, he opened the box.

It was a symphony of colours. Gold, silver, bronze. Ruby, agate, garnet. Jade, topaz, peridot. Pearl, tourmaline, sapphire. They were all there. Astarion could have wept seeing all these beautiful things in display. He touched them reverently, sighing in delight at the cold feeling of the metal and the gemstones against his skin. He wanted to put all of them on his bare body. He would certainly make for a dashing image. It took every ounce of willpower not to rub his face on them. Astarion took deep breaths, forcing himself to focus. He took one necklace an analysed it. This one was an amulet of sorts. He grabbed another one. That was a simple silver necklace. He took more rings. He soon noticed that the magical ones were set on the right side of the box, while the common ones were on the left. Even in this chaos, Nia had some sort of system going on. Still, he couldn’t find any rhyme or reason for this behaviour. A shame, as he did love solving mysteries. He figured he would have to ask the source herself.

Astarion sat down on the bedroll, nestling the jewellery box as if it were a newborn babe. He carefully picked the non-magical ones and put them on himself. Several rings on his fingers, all the necklaces and amulets around his neck. He felt like a king. Cazador had even more luxurious items on his collection, the bastard, once Astarion was never privy to. The vampire lord lived in opulence while his spawn had to make do with rags. He bet he’d even taken some belonging to his victims as some sort of twisted trophies. But like this, covered in gems and metals, the vampire spawn didn’t envy Cazador anymore. Was this why Nia collected these things? He couldn’t blame her. He spotted her mirror. Gods, he so wished he’d be able to see himself like this.

“A-astarion,” someone said. “Why are you here? And why are you covered in jewels?”

He’d been so enthralled in the jewellery he hadn’t heard Nia come back.

She was wearing her sleeping garments, and her hair was damp, although it was styled back into her usual braids. She was clutching a basin with her soap, luffa and towel against her chest. She didn’t look particularly pleased to see him lounging on her bedroll with all her treasures.

“You, darling, are a little dragon,” he accused. “Hoarding all these delightful pieces for yourself. Are we sure you don’t have draconic bloodline?”

Nia clicked her tongue. “You’re the one wearing them right now.”

“I mean, taking all the books we find is bad enough, although you do share those among your poor companions. But this,” he gestured to the jewellery which covered his body, “is so unfair. You’ve been keeping more beauties than I thought.”

She scoffed, walking fully into her tent and putting her things away. “You could’ve just asked. You didn’t need to infiltrate my tent.”

“I only did it because I didn’t think you’d want to share with little old Astarion, which is why I had to take extreme measures,” he replied, not moving once from his spot on the bedroll.

Nia rolled her eyes. “If you like some, you can take them.”

He knew she was lying.

“Really, now, my dear, beyond getting to put all these jewels on myself, I wanted to ask why?” Astarion said, waggling an accusatory finger on her face.

“Why what?”

“Oh, don’t be daft. Why in the world are you hoarding these? Do you plan to sell them in bulk? Do you like to wear them when no one’s there to watch you?” He asked, approaching her and dangling the necklaces on her face.

His companion pushed them aside. “I wasn’t lying. I do study the magical ones to replicate their uses,” she answered. In any other day and with any other person, that would have been a reasonable enough answer. Too bad Astarion was overseeing this interrogation.

“These are not magical though,” he said, wiggling his fingers and letting the candlelight make each gem flicker.  

She sighed. “Fine,” she said, sitting next to Astarion. “I like looking at them. My original intention was to replicate the magical properties of the amulets I found and transfer them to the nonmagical ones. I haven’t had much time and I’ve been unsuccessful thus far. And I know it sounds silly, but looking at them feels comforting. Slightly. It reminds me of my past life.”

“Oh, so you are an elven princess,” he claimed, nudging her with his shoulder.

“No,” she pinched her nose. “But I was born well-off, and I used to own similar rings and necklaces. I gave that life up long ago.”

Astarion rubbed his fingers against the gemstones that decorated his neck and hands. “I’m sure I also lived a life of luxury for a time. Before, you know,” he gestured to his fangs. “Or that I coveted this lifestyle. Which explains why I have a fondness for these things. I’m just surprised you share it too.”

“Hmm, must be an elf thing,” she jested. “I was serious, though. You can take any pieces you like.”

“What? Really?” He asked, perplexed. “But you hoard them with so much care!”

“Ugh, you don’t have to keep calling me a hoarder,” Nia said, scrunching her nose. “Take the ones you like. Keep them. Wear them. Sell them. I’m sure we’ll find more. Just leave the magical ones until I can crack their inner workings.”

Astarion’s eyes shone. He had the impulse to kiss her passionately for her kindness, but he kept those feelings reigned in. “I… will take good care of them.”

Nia gave him an affectionate smile. “I’m sure you will.” She then took of one his rings and put it on his palm. “Here. Take this one, the ruby matches your eyes.”

“It does?”

“Yes, and the silver compliments your skin. This onyx one would look good on you. And this sapphire pendant matches your clothes.”

Little by little, Nia gave him some of the pieces until he had a small hoard of them. The tips of his ears tingled and something warm seemed to want to spread inside him. He pushed those thoughts away in favour of delighting under her attention.

“A circlet would look nice on you,” she mumbled. “Though I haven’t seen any of those around.”

“Oh, so you want to crown me like a king,” he quipped.

“I thought you’d like to wear one.”

“You know me so well.”

They each put the jewels on each other and laughed as they played dress up. Astarion felt contented in her presence, which was strange. The rogue rarely let his guard down with anyone. It was foolish. That was the easiest way to get killed, which he knew from first hand experience. And yet, here he was, masks off, laughing with this leader who held his destiny in the palm of her small hands. Somehow, he trusted her with it. No. That wouldn’t do.

Astarion smirked at her, all suave, laying his charm thick. “You should wear them more often,” he said, playfully wrapping a necklace on her collar. “They look good on you.”

“They’re not practical,” she replied as she shrugged, letting him fiddle with the necklace.

“No, but beauty isn’t about practicality, you know?”

Nia gave him a look he couldn’t define and then she smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”

After playing some more, they said goodbye and he went back to his tent with all his treasures, feeling light, happy even. In the end, he hadn’t found some nefarious secret Nia was keeping. She was just a woman who appreciated shiny things. This knowledge made her less of an untouchable hero, and more approachable. Normal. Like himself. Astarion whistled a tune as he let his gems shine under the moonlight. He wouldn’t sell them; no, he would keep all these jewels and wear them when he pleased. They were a gift after all.

A few days later, as they explored the roads close to the gobbling camp, Astarion found something interesting inside a bag he’d looted. An amethyst ring. He smiled. He walked close to Nia, and grabbed her hand. He opened her palm and put the ring on it.

“It matches your eyes,” he said.

Nia beamed at him.

He didn’t comment when he saw her wearing it on her ring finger every day since.

Chapter Text

Astarion had a rather peculiar dream during his sleep. Usually he was in a trance, but he’d been so exhausted he’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t always that he dreamt. Most of his visions were horrific nightmares, which is why he favoured meditating over sleeping. This time, though, a gorgeous visitor came to him. At first, he thought it was the product of a fever ─he hadn’t felt well after his hunt─ or that he was having a different kind of dream, as this being was exactly his type, the wisp of a person he met long ago; thankfully he didn’t need to think about the implications of it, as the vision went into another direction altogether. This visitor claimed it wanted to protect him. Protect me from what? He’d wanted to ask, the goblins? The parasites? Cazador? Turning into a mind flayer, it said. Then it told him all sorts of tempting things. That he had potential. That the tadpoles were less of a nuisance, and more of a source of power for him. That he must accept its power, nurture it. Astarion quite liked the sound of that. Yes, a part of him was suspicious of the visitor. He’d been promised great things before, which ended up being worse than death itself. However, he was desperate. He hadn’t forgotten about the Gur. Cazador was looking for him, he just knew it. And Astarion didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want to be a spawn anymore. The power of the parasite might help. Might make him powerful enough to kill his tormentor once and for all.

But as always, there was a catch. The visitor wanted his help to save Faerûn. Astarion couldn’t care less. What had the inhabitants of the continent ever done for him while he was rotting away in a tomb for a year? Where had they been each time he was tortured? Where were they the day he died? All those heroics were more Nia’s forte. Although, he supposed nothing was ever for free. He could help this strange being with its quest in exchange of power. He had a feeling that his party would end up doing so anyway. Astarion accepted begrudgingly; the visitor smiled at him, relieved. It, then, showed him visions of its fight, of how hard it was working to keep him safe. Of the fact it was losing. Astarion set his lips in a grim line. Something told him he and his companions would need to move faster.

Suddenly, the visitor pushed him away from the vision and told him to wake up. Astarion did so with a start. He gasped, clutching his chest. Had his heart been alive, it would have been beating wildly against his ribcage. Looking up, the vampire noticed he was still inside his tent. It had all been a dream, nothing more. He sighed in relief and collapsed on his mountain of pillows. Nonetheless, he couldn’t shake the feeling it hadn’t been his imagination. When he finally left the safety of his tent, he looked at his companions. All were in a daze. Brows furrowed, pressed lips, sweat trickling down their foreheads. It hadn’t been a dream after all. They had all been visited by the same entity.

Well, it was just his luck they had all seen the same thing. Now he couldn’t be sneaky about his plans. They would all know if he tried to use the tadpole’s powers. He cursed. His only salvation would be if they unanimously decided to use them together. They’d be mighty powerful, he knew. Undefeatable. Gods on earth perhaps. Yet, he realised his group of companions wouldn’t be easily persuaded to use the parasites. Some were too distrustful, the rest too good to do what it takes. Astarion grumbled. Why in the hells had he had the misfortune to be trapped with the least ambitious people in Faerûn?

He was distracted from his thoughts by loud whispering. Turning into the direction of the voices, he saw Nia and Brunhilde discussing something. They were arguing. That was… interesting. Those two usually agreed on most things, and even when they didn’t, they came to a compromise. They were infuriating like that, though he had to admit they showed tip-top leadership, making it easier to follow them into battle. Now, well, they were at odds with one another. Astarion wasn’t obtuse. He knew they were arguing about using the tadpoles, and they didn’t seem to see eye to eye in what to do. An idea cemented in his mind. He could align himself with whoever wasn’t opposed to using them. If it was Brunhilde, it wouldn’t take long for him to seduce Nia and bring her along to his side. If it was Nia…, he doubted it would be her, too good, too nice. But if it was… Oh, it’d be too delightful.

“I don’t trust this, Nia,” Brunhilde finally said, leaving for Lae’zel’s tent.

Oh? So, it was Nia?

Astarion couldn’t believe it. Yes, the wizard was curious to the point of doing dangerous things in the pursuit of knowledge, like putting her hands in strange holes. On the other hand, knowledge didn’t equal power or ambition. Closely related, but different all the same. Something had to have changed for their fearless leader to even consider doing this. Whatever it was, he couldn’t pass up on this opportunity. He needed to find out more. He waited until Nia made her rounds, talking to everyone. Lae’zel and Brunhilde were opposed, he’d overheard. The others were cautious, not willing to use the parasites just yet. However, they all agreed to wait and see. Not bad. With sufficient peer pressure, they would all cave, except for the lovers. Though, would they be needed if push came to shove? Perhaps not.

“Good morning, Astarion,” Nia finally approached him.

He smiled at her, predatorily. “Oh, top of the morning, darling,” he greeted her. “I had the strangest dream last night,” he began saying. “There was a visitor promising me protection, and all sorts of delicious powers from the parasites in our heads.” Nia nodded wordlessly. “Given our shared affliction, I suppose you had a similar dream?”

“I did,” she replied. She rubbed her forehead, eyes weary. “So did the rest.”

“Excellent.” He needed to see where she stood. “Now we can see what the tadpoles can do for us.”

She sighed. “I don’t know if I trust this, the visitor,” she said, and Astarion pouted. “It could go very badly for us.” He was about to glare at her. And here he thought after that little tiff with Brunhilde, she’d be on his side. “That said… I…,” the wizard hesitated. “We’re in danger. More danger than we thought. We can’t take this lightly. We must tread carefully, yes, but we should take every advantage we can get. Maybe… maybe we should explore these powers and see where they get us.”

A weight was lifted from Astarion’s shoulders. Even though Nia still seemed unsure, she wasn’t opposed to it. She was on his side. Finally. Her survival instincts had kicked in and she’d seen reason. She’d realised what he had. Kill or be killed. Fight or die.

“Exactly,” he agreed, noticing how she smiled in relief. He assumed the others had judged her position. He wouldn’t. “Waste not, want not. Even when it comes to mind flayer parasites.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s the wisest choice… and yet, there might be a time when we need these powers.”

“Or else we’ll die.” He finished for her.

“The others are against it,” she confided. “Lae’zel is the most adamant that this is a trap.”

Astarion waved them off. “Ugh, they’re such utter drips, darling. Don’t mind them. If they don’t want to be powerful, we could use these powers. Together,” he said sultrily, lightly touching her arm with one finger. “We don’t need to share.”

“I’ll think about it. We don’t need to be hasty,” she said, without pulling away from him. That would be a first. Astarion grinned at her, his fangs visible.

“No, but we can’t put it off forever. I won’t be stopped, but I shall follow your lead. I wouldn’t want to cross you.” He gave her another sultry smile, fingers digging into her sleeve. “I don’t care what the others do. I only care about you and your choices.” Nia flushed under his attention, widening his smile.

The poor girl seemed to realise what was happening and took a step back.   “We’ll reconvene when I’ve made a decision,” she said tersely.

“That’s all I ask, my dear, that you consider me in your plans.”

Something must have changed. Astarion didn’t know if it was all the fighting, the goblins at their tail, or the fevers they had all been getting at night, but something had changed in Nia’s mind. Despite the fact she’d told him they should wait, she hadn’t. The vampire had just finished getting ready for the day, when he heard whisperings. Curious to know who was up this early, he sneaked out of his tent. He saw them then. Brunhilde and Nia. And the tadpole the visitor had left them in her hands. He observed with sick fascination as their leader lifted the tadpole and consumed it. Nia grimaced, seemingly in pain, as the parasite became a part of her. Then, the pain stopped, and the wizard heaved; Brunhilde put her arms around her, keeping her steady. Astarion waited with batted breath to see what would happen. He did hope the Dream Visitor hadn’t lied to them. It would be a shame if the only person he trusted in camp turned into a mind flayer.

A few seconds passed… nothing. More minutes passed, Brunhilde and Nia started talking. Nothing. She was fine. Oh, Astarion could’ve wept of joy. This meant it wasn’t a lie. The parasites would give them power. He’d noticed a slight shift in Nia already. She was more confident than usual. Perfect. Beside her, Brunhilde studied her. He heard the half-orc say she wasn’t convinced. Not that Astarion cared. So long as Nia was open to the parasites, it’d all be fine. She held the true power in camp, not Brunhilde. And soon, he would have leverage in the matters of the group, once Nia was his. He couldn’t believe how well things were going for him. It would be a first. Perhaps this was a gift from the gods themselves after so much pain.

He watched as Nia went to her usual spot outside of camp. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, he guessed. He couldn’t resist it. He needed to ask her how it went. Decided, Astarion followed her and sat down next to her. He didn’t startle her this time. She merely raised her eyebrows at him.

“Well, someone’s up early,” she remarked.

“So, I heard you’ve indulged. Just helped yourself to a little more power, I see,” he said, purring in her ear. “And there isn’t a tentacle to be seen. Not a bad deal, I’d say.”

Nia crossed her arms. “Do you have a problem with it?”

“Not at all, darling,” he said. “My only complaint is you didn’t want to share. I wouldn’t mind indulging myself.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to indulge in this,” she said, gesturing towards her body.

“I admit, I wasn’t keen to be the first to try it,” the vampire replied, moving his hand with a flourish. “Just in case there were any ‘surprise’ side effects.” He laughed, the sound coming out a little maniac.

The other elf regarded him with curious eyes. “Right…, yes, it was risky of me. I could’ve died. Glad to be of use,” she muttered sarcastically.

“But now that we know it’s safe, I am all for experimenting,” he said, voice husky and filled with innuendo.

Nia thought about it for a moment. “Brunhilde doesn’t want to use her parasite,” she said. “Even after all that, she said I was a fool and gave me her tadpole. I’m not sure I plan on consuming one so soon… but…” she trailed off.

“But what, my dear? Don’t leave me hanging.”

She turned serious. “I can share it with you─”

“─fantastic idea, my sweet.”

“─but, you have to promise me, you’ll be careful with its powers.” She pressed a hand against his chest. “I’m not sure what they do yet, and I don’t want to doom you to my same fate if things go awry.”

Her concern for his well-being made Astarion’s dead heart constrict painfully. No one had ever cared for him in this way. “I… of course, yes. I’ll be careful.” His tone matched her grave one.

“Okay, here you go,” Nia said as she took the second tadpole from her bag.

“You won’t regret it, my darling,” Astarion said, pocketing the jar.

The young woman sighed. “Yes, I hope we don’t regret anything. The others must not know. Not yet. I’ll tell them later.”

He mimicked closing his lips and locking them with an invisible key. “Not a word will come out of my mouth. It’ll be our dirty little secret, if you will.”

She nodded. “Just until it’s the right time.”

“I am curious, though, about one thing,” he continued, not wanting the conversation to end.

“What?”

“Why did you? It’s very uncharacteristic of you, as inquisitive as you are.”

Nia rubbed her temple. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

“Me? You offend me. I’d never.”

She sighed. “You and I both know I’m the weakest link in fights. I always get the most damage. I’m the deadweight.”

“Now, now, my sweet, don’t sell yourself short,” Astarion said as he patted her shoulder. “Your magic has saved our arses plenty of times. If anything, Gale’s the deadweight. What has he done so far except eat our boots?”

She gave him a wry smile. “Still, I’m just tired of all of you having to keep me out of harm’s way. I’m hoping the parasite’s power will help me avoid troubling you. I don’t want to be weak anymore.”

Her words cut through Astarion. He knew that feeling all too well. He’d spent close to two centuries being powerless and at his master’s mercy. Not anymore. Though it did surprise him Nia of all people would feel this way. He saw an ambition in her he hadn’t noticed before. He liked it.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see. Though, don’t worry, dear, I don’t mind being your hero for a change.”

She laughed. “Maybe you and I will be the heroes now that we have more parasites. Or we’ll end up dying a horrible death. Who’s to say?”

Astarion nodded solemnly. “Anything’s better than going back to Cazador. I’ll take whatever I can get.”

It was her turn to pat his arm. “You won’t go back to him, I promise.”

“No, I won’t. Not with this power.”

With that, they decided to go back to camp and not speak about this in front of the others. Astarion returned to the privacy of his own tent, while the rest of his companions gathered around the campfire for breakfast. He closed the flaps and took out the jar with the parasite in it. It squirmed in his hand. Without a second thought, he consumed the tadpole. The intrusion hurt at first, his body trying to repel it. However, the visitor’s voice soothed him, “You’ve grown your power and improved your chances of survival.”

Yes, he had. That was the point.

Astarion put a smile on his face and rejoined the others. He shared a knowing look with Nia, who merely nodded at him.

A few days later, the visitor came back to them in dreams. It told Astarion what he’d already suspected. No cure would come. No matter who they asked, no one would be able to help them. To make everything worse, he mentioned the cult they’d started hearing rumours about. The Absolute. The True Souls. It was all a nightmare to him. The only good news was that, for whatever reason, it was the visitor who had protected them from becoming brainwashed. There was a silver lining at the end. And a new quest. They needed to head now for Moonrise Towers. Astarion whined at that. He didn’t want to go to any more places. He just wanted to become a mighty being strong enough to kill Cazador Szarr. At least, he was given another gift. How generous of this Dream Visitor.

The next morning, they all woke up to the same dream. The others seemed to be warming up to the idea of using the tadpole, he’d even overheard Karlach ask Nia for one. All of them except Lae’zel and Brunhilde. Two parties were forming, it would appear.

“I don’t like it. It feels like a trap,” Nia told him in confidence, once they talked about the dream. Before he could reproach her, she continued. “That said, we have no choice but to go to Moonrise Towers. Whatever’s at the heart of this cult, we need to find it by any means possible.”

“Glad you and I are speaking the same language, darling,” Astarion said. “And while we’re at it, we can see how many more of these little worms we can harvest.”

She bit her lip, unsure. “I suppose we’d better be prepared, just in case.”

“Of course, of course, just in case.”

Astarion’s mood greatly improved. Things were going his way, and he’d manipulated Nia before even bedding her. Those were excellent news indeed. They could now take over the world with this power. Together, his mind supplied. The thought, oddly, didn’t bother him. Perhaps, he’d make her his dark consort if she behaved, and they would rule together, free at last.

Chapter Text

Astarion sat deep in thought on his stool. He licked his lips, feeling the remnants of that delicious blood still on his mouth. He felt ravenous, beyond his usual bloodlust. Something deep inside him gnawed at him. Each day that passed, this restlessness only grew. He had to wonder if it was a matter of time before it all would spiral out of control. No. He couldn’t have that happening. He needed to get a grip. His hands closed into fists as he took deep breaths. He dug so deep into his palms that his nails imprinted half-moon marks on them. He stopped before he could hurt himself. Astarion cursed.

Yesterday had been feeding time. As it was decided weeks ago, every few days, Nia graciously allowed him to feed from her while she meditated. It had been his idea, to sink his fangs on her when she was fast asleep, as to not disturb her. She had accepted, the pretty fool. It spoke volumes to how much she trusted him. And she was right. He’d never hurt her. He needed her, after all. But no one needed to know about their little arrangement. He had no doubt most of their companions would object to him draining her blood while she was utterly defenceless. They would probably think he did uncouth things to her as she dreamt. He’d never. Not while she was unconscious. It was riskier when she was awake.

What they didn’t know was that it was Astarion who felt the most vulnerable in her presence. It was better for him, to drink her blood when he didn’t have Nia’s eyes boring into him, when he didn’t feel her body shaking against his arms. It was too much. It was bad enough that her blood tasted like the most marvellous delicacy known in the world. It took everything in his power not to kill her. It was worse when her hands were on his back, when her fingers played with his hair. He could smell it then, the arousal. Hers or his, he wasn’t sure. If it was hers, he should have celebrated, he could have taken her right then and there, advancing his plans. However, if it was his… The stiffness of his cock scared him. The sudden pleasure he felt from her blood was starting to become a problem.

Of course, whenever the vampire drank blood, his body felt excitement. Not unlike how other beings feel upon satiating their own hunger by finally eating after starving all day. Not all blood, though, was the same. The blood of rats and other vermin was at the lowest. Putrid, vapid, never fulfilling. The blood of other animals was better but not by a lot. Nia’s blood was at the top of his list. Sweet and fragrant like she was. It filled him with strength, with happiness. Every time he sank his teeth into her beautiful neck, he felt like he’d reached the heavens. He wasn’t lying to her when he told her how great she tasted. It was the most honest he’d ever been with anyone. He had tried more blood from thinking beings now. The blood of their enemies. It tasted like the rush of adrenaline, like the lust for battle. It nourished him, strengthened him, even healed him if he was hurt. Yet, it wasn’t the same.

He could admit he’d had no previous experience with the blood from humanoids ─it was one of Cazador’s rules, all his spawn were forbidden from ever imbibing in this elixir, and now Astarion knew why, it was to keep them weak and famished, always at their master’s mercy. He wondered if these intense emotions stemmed from the fact Nia had been his first. A strange attachment had formed. It wasn’t any different to the bond they would’ve had if she’d been his first lover. He pondered if there was a being in the whole world whose blood tasted better than Nia’s. There had to be. He couldn’t possibly allow himself to be driven mad for the blood of someone he would, eventually, need to leave behind.

“Astarion?” A voice pulled him out of his reverie. Looking up, he found Nia’s worried eyes staring right into his soul. Of course, she would come to him tonight. It was as if his mind had called out to her. “Are you alright?” She asked, fidgeting where she stood.

“Darling, you startled me,” he said, trying to appear calm even when he felt that familiar desire starting to overcome him from her closeness. “That’d be a first.” He looked her over. His companion had a book in her hand; a tome he’d lent her a week ago. She was here to give it back.

Nia took a seat next to him, and smiled wryly at his joke, though she had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, it’s just you looked…”

“What? Devilishly handsome? Unfairly beautiful? A pale vision under the moonlight?” Astarion smirked at her, leaning his body towards hers.

“Lost in thought,” she answered. “Did something happen?” She inquired, furrowing her brows. The expression looked misplaced on her.

“I was just thinking about you,” he said, being truthful for once. “And that delicious moment we shared last night.”

The wizard flushed at his words, her freckles shining prettily over her pink cheeks. “Oh? You mean when you sucked on my neck?”

He chuckled. “The very same.” He grew quiet. Perhaps he shouldn’t share this with her, yet a voice inside urged him to do so. “I’ve had this condition for two centuries, but truth be told?” He trailed off to clear his throat. “You were my first.”

His companion was perplexed. She blinked at him owlishly. “You… you’d never had humanoid blood?” She asked. When he shook his head, she looked scandalised. “What? Why?”

“In all these years, I’ve only ever fed from beasts,” he explained. He didn’t need to tell her why, Nia could guess the reasons, he wagered. “Drinking the blood of thinking creatures is another thing entirely.”

“I guess so,” she replied. “How was it then? My blood, I mean.”

“You were delectable as always,” Astarion said with a wink.

“Glad it’s up to your standards,” she muttered. “Is that what has you thinking this much? My delicious blood?” She joked.

Yes, he said internally. Her blood. Her essence. Her warmth. Those eyes he could get lost into. But Nia didn’t need to know any of that. This…whatever it was, was becoming a weakness. He couldn’t afford for her to find that out.

“No. It’s just…Now, I can’t help but wonder how the others taste,” he deflected.

“You’re already looking at other necks? I’m hurt,” she said, mirth lacing her voice.

Astarion laughed. “Don’t worry, there’s enough of me to go around. I’m a man of tremendous appetites.”

She shook her head at him. “I can tell.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t think they’d volunteer, of course, but it doesn't make me any less curious.”

“Since you’ve been thinking about it all evening, what do you think they would taste like?” Nia asked.

The vampire thought about it for a second. “I have some thoughts. Take Gale for example. He strikes me as someone whose blood is rich, refined like a well-aged brandy,” he said, motioning around with his arms.

“With just a hint of magic coming from the orb in his chest,” she shot back.

“Hmm. You’re right. Might be best not to drink from him then. I wouldn’t want him to explode while I’m buried against his neck.” They chuckled at that.

“I don’t think the others would taste that different from me,” she added. “Not that I know anything about blood.”

“Yes, yes. Humans and elves might taste similar. But the gith? What in the hells would she taste like?”

Nia though about it. “Something exotic surely? An Arunan liqueur?” She said out loud. “Or something spicy.”

“Oh,” Astarion smiled. “That sounds very appealing. I’m almost convinced.”

“Careful now, Lae’zel would have your head for less than that,” she said. She, then, studied his face.  She raised an eyebrow. “This is still theoretical, right?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “A mere thought experiment.”

“Right.” She didn’t sound assured, but she let it go.

“So, in the spirit of theoretical questions, if you had to take a bite from one of them, who would it be?”

Nia made a show of thinking about the question. “Well, Shadowheart has a very lovely neck. Long like a swan’s. I’d like to nuzzle her. Oh, but Wyll’s well-built. His blood must be fortifying. Karlach’s out of the question for obvious reasons. I don’t care for spicy food. Brunhilde’s would taste like very strong ale, I feel. You almost got me with Gale’s brandy-like blood. Oh, but Lae’zel makes me curious…” she said, numbering one by one. When she noticed the exasperation in his face, she giggled. “You, of course,” she ended up saying, cheeks lightly blushing, her finger flickering his nose.

“Oh,” Astarion felt the tips of his ears warming up. “I’m flattered. Who knew you had such taste?” He said, trying to ignore the stirring in his lower stomach.

His fearless leader laughed. “I do enjoy the finer things in life,” she said. She was so close he could almost taste her blood. His eyes landed on her neck and the two punctures on it. His bite was still visible. He could easily grab her and sink his teeth into her soft flesh again if he wanted to. Take her right here and now, in front of everyone. His mouth watered at the thought.

Before things could get out of hand, he coughed. “Unfortunately, all this talk is getting me hungry. I’d better find something I can actually sink my teeth into.”

“Oh,” Nia exclaimed. For some odd reason, she looked disappointed. “Good hunting then.”

“Eh, there’s nothing that tasty lurking out in the woods.” Not like you, Astarion wanted to say, however he bit his tongue. “But I’ll make do.” He stopped. She was still looking intently at him. The stirring inside him hadn’t left. “Sweet dreams, Nia.”

“G-goodnight,” she stammered.

Astarion left. He wasn’t proud to say he practically ran away from her and her luscious blood. He’d already had his fill last night; he couldn’t drink daily from her. Yes, that’s what it was. His basic instincts. Nothing more. He just wanted to have her blood.

Why did it sound like a lie even to his own ears?

Nia screamed into her pillow.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said to herself. “What’s wrong with me?”

She collapsed onto her bedroll, hiding her flaming face under her pillow.

She’d taken things too far, and Astarion had almost sprinted out of view, probably eager to get away from her. She groaned. She hadn’t intended it the way it came across. The man always teased her, was obsessed with reddening her cheeks. It seemed trying to get her riled up was his favourite game. He’d done it earlier too. Talking about their late-night feedings as if they’d done more. Saying she was his first like he was talking about his first lover. It worked too. Every damned time. After many days of suffering at his hand, she started retaliating, flirting back and seeing if she could fluster him for a change. The one time it’d worked, it’d come out awkwardly.

You, of course. Her voice echoed in her head. It had sounded so needy, breathy. Not at all how she’d intended. She’d meant for it to sound flirty, teasing. An inside joke. She’d come across as a pervert instead. Nia moaned pitifully. Astarion tended to toe the line between teasing and actually propositioning her for sex. She never took it seriously. Why would she? Had he wanted her, he’d said so already; they’d been travelling together for over a month, he’d had ample opportunities to ask. No, she’d decided he had fun embarrassing her. She could have her own fun too, she’d decided. And so, she’d try to fluster him in turn. The one time she’d shut his mouth, however, it’d sounded as if she was the one propositioning him. For real. She hadn’t even realised how it’d sounded until he gave her an excuse to be rid of her company.

Nia had wanted to die on the spot.

Being stomped over by a troll would’ve been less painful.

She whined. Nia rubbed at her eyes furiously, feeling foolish as tears fell down her eyes. She felt humiliated. The worst part was she didn’t understand why she was this upset. She hadn’t actually told him she wanted to have sex with him. She hadn’t been rejected. It was just a stupid joke about taking a bite out of him if she was a vampire. Which she wasn’t. And what if he’d all but fled from her? She already knew Astarion was all bark and no bite, figuratively speaking. He wasn’t attracted to her in the least. She was merely his favourite target for flirting. What if he called her darling? He called everyone darling. At most, he considered her a friend. She hoped he did. She enjoyed his company. Talking about books, listening to his snarky remarks, sharing laughs when she said something funny. And yes, he was gorgeous. Lean but muscular. With a perfect nose and full lips. Soft hair. A sharp jawline. And did she forget to mention those striking red eyes which bore into hers every single time they talked.

Nia slapped herself. “You got to get a grip.”

She pulled at her braids. She couldn’t be attracted to him. She’d made a promise. That thought sobered her up. She grabbed her beads necklace, which was hidden underneath her shirt. She traced each black pearl with her fingers. Her breathing evened and her temperature cooled down. Whatever strange feelings were simmering inside her, she needed to put them out. For his sake.

Tomorrow, she’d apologise and if things went well, he’d brush everything off, and they’d return to their usual routine of mindless flirting with no harm done.

Yes.

Everything would go back to normal.

It had to.

Chapter Text

Karlach had come back from their adventure giggling. The sound seemed misplaced in her. Too girlish to be attributed to the barbarian. Yet there it was. She snickered as if she was keeping a secret all to herself. Well, maybe not, Astarion thought as he noticed Karlach attempting to communicate something to Shadowheart, who smirked at her. Now, he felt annoyed. He wished to know what the two women were hiding from everyone else. Uncertainty had always driven him mad. He needed to be two steps ahead at all times, and secrets made that difficult.

“Mind sharing with the class,” he told Karlach after she laughed to herself once more.

“Don’t worry about it, Fangs,” she replied. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”

He scoffed. “Keep it to yourself then.”

Astarion went back to his tent, having to ignore his gut as it told him whatever Karlach was hiding couldn’t be anything good. He soon found out his assumptions were correct, when the tiefling had an announcement to make just before dinner.

“Tonight, you won’t have to cook for everyone, Gale,” she said with her boisterous voice.

“Oh? Why’s that?” The wizard asked. “Don’t tell me you found real food on your trip?”

“Hmmm, something like that,” the barbarian said, gaining raised eyebrows. “Tonight, all of us girls are having a party on our own!” She announced.

“What?” They all asked.

“Well, that hardly seems fair,” Astarion grumbled.

“Us girls have been doing more than our part these past few days,” she replied. It was, admittedly, true. None of the men had been needed in the group’s last adventures, which involved reconnaissance of the nearby goblin camp. “We deserve a treat.”

“So, what, you’ll have us leave camp for a few hours?” Wyll asked. He crossed his arms, seemingly in annoyance.

“Oh, no. We’ll go somewhere private,” Shadowheart answered. “I’ll share the location with you later,” this what said to the women. “That includes you, Lae’zel.”

The githyanki grumbled. She appeared to want to object, but then she took a good look at all three men. “Chk, I suppose I’ll join you.”

Great. The three were so useless, it seemed, that Lae’zel would rather spend some time with her nemesis than be with them.

“I agree with Astarion,” Gale intervened, making the vampire blink in surprise. It wasn’t every day the two were on the same page. “It doesn’t seem fair to us. What do you say, our fearless leader?” He turned to Nia, eyes hopeful.

Astarion looked at her too. Ordinarily she would probably try to reason with everyone and get to a compromise, however she’d been acting off lately.

Their leader faltered. She looked at Gale, then at Karlach, and finally at Brunhilde. “Erm, an evening of girl bonding couldn’t hurt anyone,” she said at last. “You three could use it to become better friends.”

Astarion glanced at both Gale and Wyll from the corner of his eye. “Unlikely.”

“Likewise,” Gale said.

Wyll sighed. “Fine, go on, you five. We’ll hold the fort.”

The five women beamed at him while Astarion and Gale glared at him.

“Thank you so much, Wyll,” Karlach said. “I knew you’d understand.” She was about to touch the man’s shoulder, when she remembered she’d probably burn him, and pulled back.

“It’s nothing,” he said, scratching his head. “You deserve it.”

Astarion scoffed and went to his tent. Give it to Wyll to act like a fool just because he had five pairs of eyes fluttering at him. He would never act so weak. Suddenly, a pair of amethyst eyes appeared in his mind, and he sighed. Things had been a tad awkward with Nia since their conversation the other night, when she said she’d take a bite out of him out of everyone in camp. The stirring he felt hadn’t quite left him yet. It didn’t help she seemed jumpy around him, and he didn’t understand why. No matter. Perhaps if they took a night to be away from each other, things would go back to normal.

Hours later, the women left to their undisclosed location. Karlach and Shadowheart carrying crates and bags with them, while the rest took their bedrolls. It was suspicious to say the least. The men watched them go sourly. Then, they went back to their usual evening rituals. Gale and Wyll started working on their own dinner, while Astarion sat on his stool, reading a book.

“Why do they even want to be alone?” Gale wondered as he cooked. “It makes no sense. We’re pretty good company.”

Wyll shrugged. “Maybe Karlach wanted to discuss something with them she couldn’t say in front of us.” The warlock diced the vegetables and added them to the stew, which bubbled on the campfire.

Gale looked dumbfounded. “What kind of information can’t be shared with us?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. He could think of several things they wouldn’t want to talk about with them in close proximity.

“It makes no sense,” the wizard kept grumbling as he stirred the soup.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Astarion finally said, putting his book down.

Wyll and Gale turned to look at him, gesturing for him to elaborate further. He snorted.

“They want to talk about us,” he said, watching as this information dawned on Gale.

“Oh.”

Nia laughed at one of Karlach’s jokes until her belly hurt. The cool air was refreshing on her skin, and she felt at peace for the first time in days. She was currently sandwiched between Karlach and Brunhilde, with Shadowheart and Lae’zel on the other side of each one. The latter two were getting along for once, which was nice. Nia wasn’t in the mood for any arguing tonight. The conversation flowed with no restrictions. There was no talk of missions or goblins or their impending doom if they didn’t find out how to get rid of their tadpoles. Yes, they were talking and jesting without a care in the world for the first time in a long while.

The excitement had been palpable from the moment Karlach made that announcement. Even Lae’zel was animated. Shadowheart gave them a map with instructions on how to get to the place she had in mind. It was the same hill Shadowheart had taken her days ago. Nia had given her companion a questioning look at that. The cleric had merely shrugged.

“Thought this place should be enjoyed with more company,” she replied.

Things were still somewhat tense with Shadowheart, but they seemed to be finding their footing again. Nia hadn’t lied. She was her friend, and she meant more to her than words could describe. More than a kiss, at least. Not that she wanted to open old wounds by mentioning it. She’d simply nodded and let Shadowheart guide them.

The leader sighed in contentment as she sipped her wine. She thanked the gods above for giving Karlach this idea. The tiefling had found bottles of wine, cheese, and cured meat in a box on the road, the owners long dead. It was a miracle the food was in a well-enough condition to be eaten. It was even better she’d decided to share them with the rest of the women in the group.

“Let’s toast,” Karlach had said at the start of the reunion. “To us. For a job well done these past few days.”

They cheered, joking with each other about how useless their male companions had been lately. Nia grimaced at that. It hadn’t been on purpose that the men hadn’t joined them on their adventures. In truth, their current missions were more suited for the other three women’s skillsets. Although, she thought as she watched Brunhilde and Lae’zel talking amongst themselves, there was some favouritism present. Ever since Astarion told her he’d seen the two women in the middle of their tryst, Nia had noticed how close they’d become. It wasn’t until recently that the half-orc had confided in her that, yes, she and Lae’zel were what could be described as lovers, though Brunhilde wasn’t so sure where they stood, other than enjoying sex together.

“Can I ask you something?” Her second in command had told her one night. She stammered and bit her lips. She looked adorable, Nia had thought, so unsure and unlike the warrior Nia had come to respect. It reminded her that Brunhilde was still very young.

“Is something the matter?”

“Yes…No…Maybe? I don’t know how to explain myself,” she said, furrowing her brows. Nia patted her arm.

“Just let it all out, Brunhilde, it’s fine. You’re safe. I won’t judge.”

The words had spilt out in waves. How Brunhilde had always been overlooked by others due to her ugliness as an orc, how the fact she was a halfling made her unattractive to most orcs too. How no one had ever seen past her exterior. Nia’s heart constricted. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to feel that way. Brunhilde didn’t deserve that. To Nia she was a beacon of light in their dark days. Without her, the wizard wasn’t sure she would’ve survived this long.

“But then Lae’zel… she doesn’t care about how I look. She was impressed by my skills in battle. By the way I act. She wanted me and I accepted. I like her too.”

Nia had been happy for Brunhilde. It was still surprising their githyanki companion had the capability of overlooking the small fact that Brunhilde was from another species entirely, but it was a good outcome for Lae’zel too. Brunhilde had asked her next if it was a wise decision. Though Nia didn’t know if it was wise or not, she understood where Brunhilde was coming from. Their lives were in danger every day, it was easy to give into the temptation of the flesh in such situations. She dissuaded her friend’s fears of doing something improper and assured her that it didn’t bother her. Besides, Lae’zel had opened up to them more since their relationship started. Nia appreciated that. Her githyanki companion’s trust wasn’t easily given.

“I’m surprised, soldier,” Karlach said abruptly, pulling Nia out of her reverie.

“About what?” Nia asked, swirling the wine in her goblet. The aroma was enticing. The chosen wine was red and fruity. Just the way she liked it.

“I thought you for sure were going to invite the other three,” she replied.

It was true that in other times, she would’ve agreed with Gale and tried to convince Karlach and Shadowheart to share. However, it wasn’t the case this evening thanks to the vampire-sized problem she had.

“I think I’d rather be in your company tonight,” she said bluntly.

“Hear, hear, soldier. A toast to that!”

Nia drank from her goblet, her thoughts going back to Astarion. Ever since she’d put her foot in her mouth trying to be flirty, things had been awkward between them. She was tired of stammering and tripping all over her words when he was around. Perhaps one evening away from each other was all she needed for things to go back to normal.

“It’s strange, though,” Shadowheart said after drinking her wine. “Being away from them.”

“What is there to miss?” Lae’zel replied. “A blabbering wizard, a sulking vampire, a brooding hero?” She scoffed. “Bah, it’s better amongst ourselves.”

Karlach nodded in agreement. “It’s nice to be just around each other. There are things we can’t talk about when they’re around.”

That got her intrigued looks.

“Which reminds me,” Brunhilde suddenly said, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Well─”

“What do you think they’re saying?” Gale asked them.

The three lonely men plus the dog were sitting in front of the fire, nursing cups of ale the wizard had conjured into existence. Astarion wasn’t sure he was in the mood for magical booze, but he didn’t have anything else going for him. Furthermore, Wyll had been nice enough to suggest he drink the rabbits he’d hunted after the other two had had dinner. They had politely adverted their eyes as he fed, which was unexpected. It felt good to be accepted for who he was for a change, instead of hiding away in the cover of the night. So, he’d decided to make the most out of this strange night with his male companions and attempt to drink the plonk Gale had made. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever drunk, yet it wasn’t exactly suitable to his tastes. He’d kill for fine wine right now.

“They’re probably discussing female woes,” Wyll replied. “Or talking about the adventures we haven’t been a part of. Inside jokes, maybe.”

“Yes, maybe,” the wizard said, though he didn’t look as if he believed Wyll.

Astarion huffed. “I’d bet my two legs they’re talking about us.”

“What is there to say?” Gale continued. “Are they rating us? And if so, in terms of what?”

“Have you ever been around a woman before?” Astarion wondered out loud.

“Need I remind you I made love to a goddess. Multiple times?”

“Yes, but did you talk to her?”

Wyll sighed next to Astarion. “Why do you even want to know, Gale? If they’re truly talking about us, why in all the gods’ names would you want to know?”

The Gale shrugged noncommittally. “I’m just curious.”

“He just wants to know if any of them are attracted to him,” Astarion said.

The wizard spluttered. “Th-that’s not true!”

Wyll rubbed his temple. “I’ve overheard the conversations of ladies before, and trust me lad, you don’t want to know.”

Gale crossed his arms. “Why? What do they say?”

“Erm… they…”

“Oh, fucking hells,” Astarion cursed. “They talk about bodily functions, sex, clothes, sex, books they’ve read, sex, their ambitions, sex, the dreaded weight of existence, and yes, sex again.”

The wizard flushed. “Eh, well, isn’t that what men do?”

“And if they’re attracted to men, they rate the sizes of their cocks too and discuss how well they think they perform in bed,” the vampire finished with a satisfied smirk as the other two shifted uncomfortably on their seats.

“Then, which one of us do you think they find the most favourable in both categories?”

Wyll downed his cup in one go. “This is going to be a long night.”

“There are just some things a girl can’t talk about in front of the boys, you know?” Karlach said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Is this when you talk about those unsettling things you istiki go through each moon?” Lae’zel said with disgust.

“Not at all…wait, you githyanki don’t bleed?” Karlach asked with upmost interest.

“Of course not. Our bodies are more efficient than yours,” she said with all the pride of a warrior.

“Lucky,” Shadowheart said dryly. “Imagine how we feel going in this adventure where we rarely get to bathe and having to take care of that with a vampire in our midst no less.”

Nia drank the rest of her wine in one sip. “What were you trying to say, Karlach?” She asked, her voice shrill and higher than it normally was. If the others noticed, they didn’t comment on it.

“Oh right. I wanted to talk about men,” she finished with a shrug.

Nia’s eye twitched. That was precisely what she didn’t want to talk about.

“Men?” Lae’zel said out loud, her voice sounded almost offended. “We came all this way, without them, to talk about those three?”

“Of course, not,” the tiefling replied. “Not just those three. All men we’ve encountered,” she sighed dreamily.

The githyanki gave a questioning look to the other three. Brunhilde merely shook her head, while Shadowheart wrinkled her nose in disgust. Nia didn’t notice this, as she was busy looking at her goblet, pondering if she would be able to bludgeon her head with it and lose consciousness for the entirety of the evening.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Karlach defended herself. “You four can touch other people to your heart’s content. I’m not so fortunate. Excuse a girl for having fantasies.”

They looked sheepishly at their barbarian companion after hearing her words.

“Sorry, Karlach, please continue,” Nia said, gesturing her to carry on. “What do you want to talk about specifically?”

“I want to know what type of men you find attractive. I’m not mentioning women ‘cause I doubt any of you would be so bold as to admit you liked anyone here.” Although Karlach was joking, that didn’t stop the remaining four from pouring more wine into their cups as they evaded each other’s eyes. “So, Brun Brun,” she added, turning to the half-orc. “What kind of men do you like?”

Brunhilde ignored the chosen nickname before replying. “I…erm… I prefer the female form,” she answered, her fist almost crushing the goblet. Lae’zel nodded in approval next to her, much to Nia’s amusement.

“But if you had to choose one of the men we’ve met, who would it be?” Their companion continued to press her.

Brunhilde raised her shoulders. “I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it before. Let me think.” She rubbed her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “I guess, if I had to choose, I’d pick Wyll,” she said at last. Lae’zel once more nodded next to her.

“Wyll,” Karlach tasted the name on her lips. “Oh, I see you, Brunhilde.” She laughed.

She flushed. “He’s a skilled warlock. I respect his work,” the half-orc continued explaining herself. “Although he’s a bit too nice.” The last part was said as an afterthought.

Lae’zel kept nodding at every word her partner said. “Wyll’s formidable as a warrior. Now he needs to learn to do what must be done. He has the power, now he must use it.”

“I think the fact that Wyll is nice is a point in his favour,” Shadowheart added. “Though it can be grating at times. Not even Nia is that kind.”

“Hey, I resent that,” Nia spoke for the first time. She crossed her arms in annoyance.

“But that’s what I like about him,” Karlach said as she stared into her goblet. “He chose to spare me because he’s good. Anyone else would’ve killed me. He didn’t. And it cost him. He’s never reproached me for it, even when I can tell it hurts him.” Her voice wavered as she said that. Nia wished she could’ve at least been able to pat her arm in reassurance. “It also helps he’s incredibly attractive. Have you seen those muscles?” Her voice turned light again as she giggled.

“Don’t forget he’s the son of a duke,” Shadowheart quipped. “You could do far worse.”

“I bet he’d destroy you in bed with all that power,” Lae’zel added, making the rest blush.

“Cheers to that!” Karlach said giggling.

They drank again and Nia sighed. She prayed to every god Karlach would move on from this topic and they could talk about something else before the conversation irremediably shifted into the direction of a certain companion of theirs.

“What about you, Shatsy?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Nia swore under her breath. The gods above were laughing at her, she had no doubts.

“Do you mean to say you wish to compare the size of our cocks?” Astarion said out loud. He grinned, amused at this unexpected turn of events. “Why, Gale. I never thought you’d be this interested in my prick. You should’ve told me sooner,” he goaded. The wizard, by this point, was so inebriated with his own ale he was easier to provoke.

Gale’s cheeks turned red in anger. “I don’t wish to see your-your member, Astarion!”

“No one is pulling his trousers down,” Wyll added, a protective hand placed on top of his crotch.

“But that’s what Gale said!”

“No, I’m wondering how the girls see us,” the wizard grumbled.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Astarion said. “They obviously like Wyll.”

“What?” The other two exclaimed.

“Wyll’s tall, dark, handsome, with muscles and he’s so charming, like a prince,” the vampire said, giving the warlock at flirty look. “Everything looks flattering on you, even those horns. It’d be difficult not to like you.”

Wyll blushed and not precisely because of the alcohol. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I don’t want to know if they’re saying that.”

“Oh, come now, Wyll, you must like someone in camp,” Astarion said.

“If I do, that’s none of your business,” he supplied. The rogue stared at him. He started to have an inkling of who that could be.

“Well, if they like Wyll, I suppose they don’t think anything of me,” the wizard grumbled as he stared into his empty cup. Astarion served him more ale.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, mate,” the warlock replied.

“As I said, Wyll’s attractive,” Shadowheart answered. “Gale’s not bad either.”

“Really? Gale?” Lae’zel blurted out.

The cleric shrugged. “Let’s just say, ever since I found out he bedded a goddess, I’ve been curious about him.” She tipped her goblet and arched an eyebrow, a smirk firm in place.

“Makes you wonder what tricks the Magic Man knows, doesn’t it?” Karlach chuckled. “Hey, soldier, you’re a wizard too, can you use the Weave in the bedroom?”

The sudden question sent Nia into a coughing fit. “There are some spells that could work… I guess…” She was still too sober for this. “Not that I would know of.”

She got unconvinced glances.

“Fine. Mage Hand and Hold Person work great for that,” this was received with rueful smiles and knowing glances. “But I wouldn’t know what in the hells Gale did with Mystra.”

“I’m sure he could teach you,” Shadowheart said. She sent her a devilish grin, which rivalled even Astarion’s.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m not daft, Nia. I saw you hanging with Gale the other night. Summoning and playing with the Weave.” Her intonation dripped with innuendo.

Karlach started snickering. “You kept that one close to your chest, eh soldier,” she said, almost punching her arm. “I want to know all the details.”

“There’s not much to tell,” she answered, feeling self-conscious. “We’re both wizards, it’s not hard to summon the Weave. We watched it dance around us, and then the night ended.”

She got more sceptical glances.

“Really? You didn’t even kiss?” Karlach asked.

“No.”

“Boring. You need to lighten up, Nia. You’re wasting all your possibilities here.”

“I don’t blame her,” Lae’zel said. “The wizard is…how do you all call it?” She said something in githyanki Nia couldn’t quite catch. “A moron.”

“That’s… harsh,” Karlach said.

“He lost the favour of his own goddess, who was his lover. Tell me that’s not being a k'chakhi.”

Nia had been around Lae’zel long enough to know that meant idiot.

“True. But he did it for love,” Shadowheart answered. “I can see the romanticism in that. It’s quite attractive, actually. And the fact he wears his heart on his sleeve makes him a better option than some others,” she said pointedly. Nia felt this was directed at her. She sipped her wine to ignore the cleric.

“Gale is powerful,” Brunhilde added. “But he’s…”

“Weak?” Lae’zel supplied.

“I was going to say vulnerable.”

“I like that,” Karlach muttered. “I’d never considered it, but Gale is sensitive. I like that trait in a man. And he’s smart. Well-read. He’s also rather cute, don’t you think?”

“He is when he’s not talking too much,” Shadowheart said, making the rest laugh.

“You’re saying they’d be interested in me because of Mystra?” Gale asked, blinking.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “You had sex with a goddess. Of course that makes you desirable. Which reminds me, I’ve wanted to ask this for a while. How is bedding a goddess?”

“I… why do you want to know?” The wizard asked, slurring his words.

“I’m rather interested in your tricks. How do you even begin to pleasure a divinity?” Even Wyll seemed curious about this, as he stopped playing with Scratch to look at Gale.

“Mystra preferred our interactions to be incorporeal, so it’s rather difficult to explain. I imagine it’s different from what you’re used to. But I swear it’s so different than with a mortal. It’s hard to go back.”

Wyll and Astarion glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.

“Wait, you mean, you don’t know how to pleasure someone in the regular way? A mortal, I mean.” The Blade asked in disbelief.

“No…maybe, why? Is that bad?”

“No, no, of course not, lad. It’s just…”

“Well, how can you bed anyone else when you’ve been with a goddess?” Astarion asked. “As boring as you explained it, no mortal could compare. Surely.”

“I assure you there’s at least one mortal who could,” Gale said. Astarion didn’t like that answer.

“You should, er, get out there more, Gale,” Wyll replied. “Find someone you like and see if it works.”

“Oh, that’s not the problem. The real issue is getting them to like me.”

“Just be yourself.”

“Because that has worked out for me splendidly,” the wizard said sarcastically. He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t think they’re talking about me right now.”

“As I’ve been saying,” the warlock said, “they’re probably talking about something else.”

“Or other men,” Astarion pointed out.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Gale muttered.

“We’ve met several peculiar individuals, now that you mention it. Perhaps one of them caught their fancy,” Wyll said.

“I did think Raphael was rather dashing,” the wizard rambled.

“You can’t mean that.”

“No, no, Wyll. Let the man speak. That devil was charming.”

Wyll sighed again.

“So, Karlach,” Nia decided to interrupt the teasing. “Do you have anyone in mind? Or why did you want to know our opinions on men?” It was suspicious that her tiefling companion hadn’t mentioned the men she, herself, liked.

Karlach’s cheeks turned slightly pink. A feat in and of itself given the fact her skin colour was already red. “Ah, you got me there, soldier,” she giggled as she scratched the back of her head. “There’s no harm in me telling you. It’s not like I can do anything with anyone,” that last part was said very sadly. Nia’s heart clenched for her friend. “I can tell you that I have a small crush on Wyll. Just slightly. He did agree to save me after all.”

“A solid choice,” Shadowheart complimented her, while Brunhilde and Lae’zel nodded.

“I find Dammon to be fetching, though,” the barbarian said, her eyes cloudy with want. “He’s so handsome and so sweet to boot. He promised to help me find a cure for my problem, unprompted too. That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. Ah, not that you four haven’t been good to me, but you know what I mean.”

“I agree,” Nia said, noting that Karlach was rambling. “Dammon is very attractive. He’s the most striking blacksmith I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, that tracks,” the tiefling replied, while the other three nodded in agreement.

Nia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You like pretty boys, don’t you?” Shadowheart answered.

“What?” Not that it wasn’t true, she did like her men princely looking, the question was how her companions knew that. She’d been very careful not to share her opinions about such things.

“Dammon, Wyll, Astarion…” Karlach listed, counting with her fingers.

Nia’s heart stopped for a second. “What?!” She screeched, earning an annoyed look from Lae’zel. Why did they mention him, today of all days?

“There’s no shame in liking pretty men,” Brunhilde said, patting her arm. Nia felt her face burning with embarrassment.

“I disagree if that’s the only reasoning,” Lae’zel countered. “Liking weaklings is a disgrace to your value as a warrior… well, wizard or whatever it is that you are.”

“I’m a bladesinging wizard,” Nia deadpanned.

“Yes, that.”

“I find it cute that you like them pretty,” Shadowheart commented. “Does that extend to women as well, I wonder.”

Nia didn’t even try to respond to that double edged sword. She poured more wine into her cup. “So, who else do you like, Karlach?” She asked. “Now that we know we can include those from the grove, we can have more options.”

“Zevlor is kind of fine, in an old man sort of way,” Karlach answered.

Nia almost spat all the wine. “Zevlor?”

“Don’t look at me like that! There’s something about him I can’t explain.”

“I can see the appeal,” Shadowheart said with a wolfish grin. “I think it’s all about the hands.”

Lae’zel scoffed. “How can you like him when he was so useless when Brunhilde was wrongfully imprisoned? He can’t save his people either, so that makes him weak.”

“But the hands, Lae’zel, the hands,” Shadowheart continued, blushing from either the booze or arousal, Nia wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Tas'ki, the only reason why I’d care about a man’s hands is to see how good his grip on his weapon is.”

Shaowheart and Karlach guffawed, grabbing their bellies as they laughed. “You know what, same here,” Karlach said.

“I don’t understand what has you in stitches.”

“You don’t want to know,” Nia replied, trying hard to reign her snickers.

Brunhilde, however, lent down to whisper something into Lae’zel’s ear. “Is that so?” She said. Then she smirked. “Well, I wasn’t wrong either way.”

That made everyone laugh harder.

“Oh, man. Who else we can talk about? Volo?”

Their laughter resonated throughout the woods.

“I find him as attractive as his singing,” Shadowheart said.

“I agree with you, Shadowheart,” Lae’zel replied.

“That’d be a first.”

“Oh, look, you’re bonding,” Nia teased. “Hope this means you’re friends finally.” Both women made a face at her. “Or not.”

“I’d lie with Volo if only to have him write a song about our… escapades,” Karlach said. She clearly had had too much wine. “At this point, I’d lie with anyone who offered.” She grumbled.

“Anyone?” Nia said out loud, feeling mischievous. “Even Withers?”

There were more snickers in the room.

“I’m desperate for touch, soldier, but not that desperate.”

“Does Withers even have a… you know?” Brunhilde said adorably.

Shadowheart gave her a wry smile. “Come on, Brunhilde, say it like it is.”

“No, I don’t want to,” she whined. It was obvious she was a little drunk.

The rest prodded her until she caved. “Fine! Does Withers have a cock?”

More laughter ensued.

“Oh, I don’t even want to know,” Nia said, wiping off a few tears.

“Speaking of, I’m curious about one thing,” Karlach said.

“What?”

“Do you think demons have peckers?”

“Where did this come from?” Nia asked.

“Are you thinking about who I’m thinking?” Shadowheart said, eyes shining with mischief.

“Well, you can’t blame a girl for being curious. Raphael is charming.”

Nia laughed. “You can’t be serious. He’s a devil who wants to own our souls.”

“I thought you’d want to know too,” Karlach replied. “He seemed to be taken by you. He took you to his house. Alone. What did you do there, soldier?”

“Nothing,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Oh, everyone is taken by Nia,” Shadowheat said sourly.

“Not me,” Lae’zel scoffed. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Though I’d prefer you to the demon. G'lyck, can’t believe you’d bed the devil himself, Karlach.”

“Well, if Gale bedded a goddess, why can’t I have sex with a demon? I bet he’s the only being I can’t burn to ashes.”

“Oh, I bet it’d be worth your while,” Shadowheart said.

“I’m just saying that the man’s a hunk and probably versed in a lot of things,” Gale finished his explanation.

“Is that the way into your undergarments, my friend?” Astarion asked. “Because I can assure you, I’m well-read too.”

“You’ve lived long, Astarion, but not as long as a demon.”

Wyll rubbed his forehead. “I fear we’ve strayed too far away from our original conversation.”

“Oh, don’t be a killjoy, Wyll. We’re talking in hypotheticals. And hypothetically speaking, our wizard friend wants to move on from a goddess to a demon. By the way, tell me if you want to try it with a vampire next, as you seem averse to mortals.”

Gale sighed. “It’s not an aversion to all mortals. There’s just one I’d like for more.”

“What? For love and all that?” Astarion said sarcastically.

“Well, yes,” Gale answered. “I spent an entire year away from all company, wishing to feel love again. Wishing to know the touch of human connection.”

“No wonder you’re always pining,” the vampire scoffed. It was too sad that the mortal Gale wanted didn’t seem all that keen on romance.

“And you, Astarion?” The wizard said. “Don’t you pine?”

“I never pine. People pine for me.” For his body and the promise of a night together, but he guessed it was the same thing. Not that he cared about such inconsequential things.

Gale rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe you. In fact, I think you care more about what the girls are saying than me.”

“Oh, I don’t care. I know exactly what they’re saying about me,” he said.

“And what’s that?” Wyll asked this time.

“That I’m drop dead gorgeous,” he joked. The others didn’t laugh. “Oh, alright, they’re probably cursing how attractive I am even when I annoy them so much. Same old, same old.” He gestured dismissively.

Wyll frowned. “Don’t you think they could be attracted to more than just your looks?”

Astarion closed his eyes, a memory worming into his mind.

“Astarion,” Nia called him before he could turn away. “You are beautiful, but there’s more to you than just your looks.”

“Of course, Wyll. I’m witty, hilarious, and good company all around. What’s not to like?”

Neither looked convinced.

“And why would I care about what they think, anyway?”

“Not they,” Wyll said. “She.”

“And what about you, Lae?” Karlach turned to the githyanki. “You seem to have a lot of opinions about what we’ve been saying.”

“Most of the men you’ve mentioned are too she'lak for my tastes,” the githyanki said.

“She’lak?” Shadowheart muttered.

“Do-gooders,” Lae’zel explained. “Not to mention puny. Istiki men cannot compare to githyanki.”

“What’s so different about them?” Nia asked, curious.

“All githyanki are true warriors,” she explained. “Ferocious in battle, disciplined, renowned tacticians.  Our culture is so that only those worthy survive. We value strength above all else. Our mates need to prove themselves in battle before we choose them. A fierce demonstration of raw power is needed for that. Only thinking about it makes my blood burn with desire.”

Brunhilde burnt bright red as Lae’zel spoke. Nia raised her eyebrow. She supposed her friend was, as described, ferocious in battle and quite adept at it too. Now she understood why the githyanki had chosen the half-orc as her bed mate.  

“So, none of the men here strike your fancy?” Karlach asked again.

“I didn’t say that,” Lae’zel replied. “If Wyll was less of a she’lak, he’d be ideal, at least to warm my bed in cold nights. Gale is out. He’s too… Gale for my liking. And Astarion, oh, how I hate when he talks. And how frivolous he is. Don’t get me started on his indiscipline.”

“So, our resident vampire is out of the question?” Shadowheart said with a smirk.

“That said,” the githyanki continued. “I would bed him in a heartbeat.”

They all gawked at her.

The tiefling was the first to recover. “I know what you mean,” Karlach replied. “I’d ride him to the Feywilds and back if given the chance. I didn’t think, you’d feel the same way, though.”

Shadowheart scoffed. “You surely don’t mean that,” she said.

“I do,” Lae’zel said. “He’s adept in battle and I like that he uses his fangs now to kill our enemies. Feasting and killing at the same time, that’s rather ingenious and efficient. He rarely gets hurt. And he’s ruthless. He gets the job done.”

It made sense to Nia those were the things her companion found attractive about Astarion. All of them were true, though she couldn’t say those would get her blood boiling for him. Not that she didn’t find him attractive. Beautiful, yes. Her friend, absolutely. More than that? No. Of course not.

Brunhilde shifted next to her, a haunted look on her face. Nia patted her knee in what she hoped her friend would take as reassurance. She gave her a small smile, yet she looked quite uncomfortable. Nia couldn’t blame her though. Listening to your lover speak about the hypothetical men she’d bed must hurt to hear.

“And it helps that, despite looking lean, I know for a fact he has muscle underneath his clothes. I’ve spied the beginning of his pectorals, and have you seen his arms? He looks like the kind of man who could grab you and throw you around on bed. Slam you against a wall. Make it really hurt. Dominate you completely.” After Lae’zel’s speech on all of Astarion’s wonders, the rest blushed.

Brunhilde’s hand grabbed her goblet so hard it almost broke.

“Is it just me or is it getting hotter in here?” Karlach mentioned, fanning herself with her hand.

Nia hid her face with her goblet.

“I’d never thought of Astarion in that way,” Shadowheart said. “Though I guess I’ve always thought he has a nice face, the problem’s the face talks.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t be doing much talking, I’ll tell you that much,” the githyanki continued, satisfied.

Nia’s throat became dry after listening to Lae’zel’s description. It was true. He was a vampire, after all. He had supernatural strength. Not to mention she’d felt his arms around her before. When he fed from her, and that one time he’d carried her in his arms during the fire at the inn in Waukeen’s Rest. He too seemed like the type who liked control. To be in charge in bed. Her mind conjured debauched images of herself under Astarion. Funny, she was normally on top, but now she wished to give herself away in this way. Pliant and at his mercy.

Shit.

She needed to leave before they could─

“So, Nia, you’ve been under him, how does that feel like?”

Fuck.

Astarion left his usual smirk in place. “Why do you think I don’t know what she thinks?” He asked, knowing who Wyll was referring to.

For his part, Wyll looked as unbothered as Astarion was trying to appear. “Nia’s very reserved. I don’t think she’d be that upfront with that sort of thing.”

All true, though the warlock didn’t need to have his suspicions confirmed.

“Even then, why should I care?” He tried again, his mask firmly in place. “We’re just friends.”

“Oh, piss off, Astarion,” Gale grumbled. “I know what you’re after.” The wizard was more drunk than he’d thought.

“And what is that, exactly?” He said, his smirk not leaving his face.

“Don’t make me punch you.” Gale got close to him, their noses almost brushing.

“I’d like to you see try.”

Wyll got in between them. “Enough, Gale.”

The wizard sputtered. “If you hurt her─”

He glared at him. “Why are you so adamant that I’m going to hurt her? Or that I even want to hurt her.”

“She’s too good for this world,” was Gale’s answer.

“And that we can agree on,” Astarion said. Then he smiled. “Don’t fret, Gale, I promise I won’t hurt our leader.” He was only going to seduce her, manipulate her feelings, and yes, there was a small risk her heart could break, though she’d said she only wanted fun, not love. As long as she was well pleased, where was the harm?

Wyll pulled Gale back. “I think we’ve had too much to drink. Best go to bed now.”

The wizard considered it for a second before nodding.

“Goodnight, Astarion,” Wyll said. “This was a…fun night.”

“Rather riveting, don’t you think?” He gave him a grin before waving them off.

Astarion went back to his tent, and then he sighed as he slumped on his pillows. Had he been that obvious with his intentions? He hoped the rest of his companions believed he was after Nia solely for sex and not anything nefarious. He didn’t want them aware of his true plan.

But they were right about one thing.

He was curious if Nia was talking about him. He didn’t care about the rest. Let them hate him or desire him, it was all the same to him. Nia, now though, she was still a bit of a mystery to him. He almost had her. He knew that. Yet she kept pushing him away. What was she so scared of, he wondered.

“I-it’s not like that,” she stammered. “He’s careful not to crush me underneath him.”

Karlach smirked at her. “So, you’ve never felt his chest against yours?”

She had.

That first night he bit into her neck. Astarion had been wild, drinking from her like a man dying of thirst. She supposed he had been. As he drank deeper into her, she’d briefly felt his chest. However, it wasn’t like she’d been aware of it. She had been slightly numb from all the blood loss after all.

“No,” she answered instead, crossing her arms protectively around herself, willing her heart to calm down.

“A pity then,” Shadowheart replied. “We wanted to know if all Lae’zel said could be true.”

“Oh, but I bet Nia likes Astarion for other reasons,” Karlach said. “Don’t you, soldier?”

Nia was rendered speechless. “W-what do you mean?”

The four stared at her, giving her quizzical glances.

“Oh, don’t be so shy. It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” Nia blushed at Karlach’s words.

“You two spend an awful lot of time together,” Shadowheart added.

Nia turned to Brunhilde, helpless.

“I mean, you two seem to be…close,” the half-orc offered.

“Bah, say it like it is. The vampire wants to eat you, and I don’t mean just your blood. And you want him too.”

Nia wanted to cease existing.

“We’re friends,” she answered.

“Sure, tell that to Astarion,” was Shadowheart’s reply.

Since they couldn’t get much out of her, they stopped prying. That didn’t, however, mean that her emotions had stopped to be all over the place. Nia tuned out the rest of the conversation, her heart in disarray. She found Astarion to be stunning, that much was true. And she was flirty with him, normally because he flirted with her all the time. That didn’t mean there was more to it. Her roguish companion was just like that. A seducer. It was a game to him. Nia had met others like him, and she’d never fallen into their traps. Then, why now all of a sudden did she feel like letting herself be snared by his piercing eyes and his silver tongue?

She didn’t have an answer then and much less when she returned to camp, and he was right there, waiting for her.

“So, did you have fun, darling?” Beneath his mask, Nia felt his eyes roaming her face, looking for something.

“I did. I’m happy to see you three didn’t kill each other,” she joked. A deflection. She prayed that he couldn’t see her reddening cheeks in this light, that he couldn’t hear her heart skipping a beat.

“How do you know I didn’t bury their corpses already?”

“You wouldn’t have stuck around if that were the case.”

“Observant,” he remarked. “And beautifully flushed from all the wine you consumed.”

So, he had noticed. Thankfully, he’d been merciful with his teasing. She didn’t think she could’ve survived a more direct approach tonight.

“Which is making me rather sleepy,” she said. Anything to get him to leave her alone. “Sweet dreams, Astarion.”

“Oh, they will definitely be as sweet as you.”

Nia almost tripped with her own feet. She blushed more, though she kept herself upright and walked towards her tent, ignoring his lingering glances. Once inside, she collapsed on her bedroll.

She needed to get over this crush before her heart could leap out of her chest.

Chapter Text

Infiltrating the goblin camp was duller than Astarion had expected. Feigning being True Souls was as easy as lying to a child. All these goblins were gullible idiots. No one had attempted to defy them once they felt their parasites’ presence, making all that sneaking seem pointless. He could admit he was bored. There hadn’t been anything amusing happening, and they hadn’t found the druid yet. Yes, perhaps seeing that bard become a goblin’s pet had been diverting for a bit, but Nia had ruined that pretty fast by freeing the man with a bit of deception. Too good that one, too sweet. And too willing to ignore him.

Things were still delicate between them. Whatever Nia and the other women had spoken about must’ve had something to do with him, otherwise he didn’t see why she was so skittish around him. Like a cat. An adorable little cat he wanted to sink his fangs into. At least she had invited him to join her in this adventure. That was one more step forward. She wasn’t decidedly giving him the cold shoulder anymore, and for the sake of his plan, he was thankful. Astarion decided he had to mend whatever had been broken. If it was her natural shyness, he needed to make her see he wasn’t offended by her interest. That it was most welcomed, actually.

“So,” he said, falling into step next to her, Brunhilde and Lae’zel walking in front of them. “It appears we’ll have a new bard at camp. Was that really necessary, my dear?”

“As annoying as Volo is, I couldn’t just leave him in this miserable place,” she replied, watching him from the corner of her eye.

“Let’s hope he has some catchy ditties to play,” he remarked. “Perhaps a love song,” he muttered in her ear, “or a gaudy tune about a rake and a noblewoman.”

She snorted. “Perhaps he knows one about a vampire who talked too much.”

“Oh, ha, ha, darling. You’re so funny,” he said, sarcasm dripping like venom.

“Thank you. I try to, for your entertainment, magister.”

Astarion smiled. Their bantering was back to how it’d always been. A back and forth of sarcastic remarks and playful jabs. Just the way he liked it.

“Well, consider me entertained,” he said, bowing in a mocking gesture. “More so than being in this place. Is this infiltration even essential? Nothing’s happened. They all trust us.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to killing goblins soon enough. We have a penchant for getting into trouble.”

“Darling, maybe we should take advantage of their trust,” he whispered in her ear. “Pretend to be True Souls and get to live here. Grab the power of the leaders.”

She frowned at him. “I know you don’t dislike killing, but I thought even you would object to living here.”

“Yes, yes, the decoration’s dreadful, they need a new interior designer, pronto. And goblins aren’t the perfect company, would it kill them to bathe once in a while? However, power is power, and these people hold it.” It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a whole goblin army at his disposal to face his former master.

“What we need to know is what they’re planning. And see if anyone here knows how to get rid of these parasites,” she said tersely. “I’m still not sure if we can trust that Dream Visitor, and someone in here must know something.”

“Psh, you’re no fun.” Astarion crossed his arms. Though he was annoyed, at least she was back to the Nia he knew.

“I thought you said I was funny a minute ago,” she said with a cheeky grin.

He couldn’t help but return it. “It seems you’re only hilarious when it’s to my expense.”

“Oh, darn, my secret was revealed.”

Astarion laughed freely at that. Alright, he’d give it to her, she was funny on occasion. He was about to say something else, when she stopped walking.

“Is that what I think it is?”

He followed her eyes into a room. It was small, filled with books and torture devices. Fitting, since the chambers next to it happened to be the torture room, where the cries of a man could be heard. But no one was being tortured there. Only a single man stood, self-flagellating with passion. Astarion raised an eyebrow at that. Why would Nia be interested in the man?

“What is this?” He asked her, voice low enough so that the man couldn’t hear him.

“A shrine,” she said simply.

Without adding anything else, his companion went inside. He followed, curious to know what she was planning to do. Brunhilde and Lae’zel noticed their absence and joined them in the sanctuary. The three observed as Nia approached the man, who by now sat on the floor, meditating. His exposed back was covered in scars from what could be inferred was continuous self-torture. As Nia advanced, the man got up and turned to face her. He wore a leather top which revealed his chest and bare abdomen. Splashes of blood decorated his flesh and clothes. He had a maniac look to him. Perhaps he was some sort of sex freak. Astarion had met some on the streets while working for Cazador. He always avoided luring them. They made him feel uneasy. Who knew what they’d do to him if they found out he was a vampire.

“Greetings, child,” the man said, standing in front of Nia. It was humorous to have addressed her as an infant, when the man was human, and Nia was likely much older than him. Astarion hid his grin behind his hand and continued observing the conversation in silence. “I’ve met few aside from goblins here.”

The wizard merely stared at him. She seemed to have recognised something about him, but she didn’t say anything yet.

“Ah, are you also here to assist with the prisoner?” He asked.

“What prisoner?” She pretended not to know, no doubt to gather more information.

“The gentleman being held next door. My acquaintance is working on him, I believe,” the man explained. “While I was thrilled to be invited here, I must confess I find the goblins and their methods… crude and primitive.” Astarion couldn’t have agreed more. Awful little creatures, those goblins. “Pain without purpose is a terrible thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I thought a follower of Loviatar would approve of pain,” Nia replied. Her eyes assessed the man in front of her.

Loviatar? Astarion thought about where he had heard that name before. Ah, but of course, she was the goddess of pain. Of torture. This man was a freak, indeed. His question was now, what did Nia want with this man if she knew who he was.

“You know the Maiden of Pain?” The man asked with a smile. “How refreshing. But there is more to us than that.”

“Please, enlighten me,” she said. Nia didn’t appear to be scared or disgusted. It was baffling. Astarion had never seen her act like this.

“Very well. Yes, we worship her through pain, often our own. But it is an intimate and loving thing and one we offer up.”

Astarion would never be able to think of torture as loving, but perhaps this acolyte had never been tormented by an evil master. Not like he had. The scars on his back suddenly ached as memories of that terrible night swarm inside his head. He shook it, dispelling those thoughts, and focused back to the conversation at present.

The priest regarded Nia with an unnerving gaze. “If you would permit it, I can show you first-hand.”

Astarion half expected Nia would flee from the man, yet she remained, staring at him with her seemingly all-knowing eyes. There was something about her countenance which sparked curiosity in Astarion. Surely, his dearest companion was up to something.

“Mmm,” he murmured, intrigued. “I must see this. Don’t you dare say no.” He was joking, of course, but deep down he was squirming with strange desire, wondering what Nia could be thinking at that exact moment.

“By all means, let us see what his ‘skilled hand’ might get up to,” Lae’zel said next to him, grinning. Her natural sadism coming out.

“Nia,” Brunhilde called her. “Only if you’re sure.” The half-orc looked worried. Astarion could admit to himself that he was too, just a little bit. Though, he didn’t think Nia would go through it. It was more likely she’d try to tell the man why self-torture wasn’t healthy.

“I am curious,” she answered to his surprise. His eyes widened as Nia smiled to the man, her lips curled up in a challenge.

The man matched her smile. “Oh, I have something exquisite in mind. Both Loviatar and I are interested in how you handle pain, dear one.” Astarion didn’t understand what he was hearing. Had Nia, of her own volition, chosen to be tortured? “And should you delight her, you will most assuredly receive her gracious blessing. Trust me.” Astarion frowned. Was this what it was all about? A blessing of sorts? He knew Nia was versed in a lot of historical knowledge. It was possible she’d known about that blessing beforehand. He was still perplexed, though, at this turn of events. Her natural curiosity often led her to taking risks, but never something like this.

“Simply face the wall, and we can begin.”

Astarion watched in silence as Nia walked to the wall, without sparing them a second glance. She pulled her robes over her head ─the purple robes he had given her─ and her white tunic, which she folded in a neat pile, leaving them carefully on the ground. She was left in just her brassiere and her leather leggings, her back completely exposed.

“Yes, this will do nicely,” the follower said, grabbing a whip. Then, he flogged her with it. Nia yelped, her hands grabbing at the wall to steady herself. Next to Astarion, Brunhilde tried to intervene, but Lae’zel held her back, murmuring something about this being Nia’s choice. The vampire clenched his fist. He felt something move inside him. Something that told him to save her. He ignored it for the sake of the blessing. Nia wanted it. It seemed it would be something powerful. Something they needed in their rather perilous journey.

“The pain you suffer will cleanse you,” the priest said. “Do not fight it.” Nia screamed again, her voice sweet to the vampire’s ears.

“Oh, bravo! Encore!” Astarion said, trying to encourage her to resist for the blessing. A part of him was terribly amused. And aroused if he was honest. She sounded so darling when she cried.

“Pain is proof that we live! Revel in it,” the priest yelled, but he didn’t look impressed.

He kept hitting her, harder and harder each time, and Nia cried through gritted teeth, her blood pouring onto the floor. Astarion licked his lips. No, he needed to focus. His companion didn’t have the greatest of constitutions, and she was hanging on by a thread. It wouldn’t do her any good if she had a vampire suckling on her blood to boot.

Although Astarion was enjoying the show, the acolyte of Loviatar didn’t seem to delight as much in the little noises she was making. The rogue didn’t understand what the priest wanted. She sounded so lovely as she came undone. Without warning, the torture stopped. The man was disappointed and did not grant her the blessing. He seemed to feel disdain for her now. Brunhilde, however, had had enough. She pushed the priest away from her friend and carefully lifted Nia. The small wizard whimpered.

“That is going to bruise,” Astarion blurted out.

“Chk, she should’ve held on a little longer,” Lae’zel complained.

Brunhilde gave their leader a healing potion and took her out of the room.

“Well, guess our little adventure is over,” Astarion said as he followed.

His mind, though, was miles away. The image of Nia trembling and hurting against the wall was uncomfortable and, at the same time, oddly captivating. He wondered then if her cries of pain and pleasure differed from each other.

Nia whimpered as Shadowheart dressed her wounds. “You’re an idiot,” the cleric told her. “But I’m surprised you wanted to be punished. Thought you didn’t like pain.”

“I don’t,” she said, trying hard not to cry out.

Shadowheart sighed. “Then I don’t understand why you wanted to feel a little penance, but you’ll be fine. These won’t scar thanks to the healing potion you took before. Which is good news, you have a very lovely back.”

Nia gave her friend a small smile. She knew her companion was trying to distract her. “Thank you.”

“Any time. You’ll be sore in the morning, though. Come wake me up if you don’t feel good. You lost quite a bit of blood there.”

“I’ll live,” she said. “Goodnight, Shadowheart.”

“You too.”

Once alone, Nia cursed herself. She’d been foolish and too ambitious. Guess she was just your average wizard, curious and stupid. And now she would have to pay the price. She flinched as she put her white shirt back on, the fabric felt rugged against her tender skin.

“Well, if it isn’t my little masochist,” she suddenly heard Astarion’s voice. She turned her head and found him already entering her tent, silent as a ghost.

She glared at him. “Oh, do laugh at me. Don’t think I didn’t see you were into it.”

“Guilty as charge,” he replied, crawling until he was sitting next to her. “It’s not my fault it was an entertaining sight. That priest had a good form.”

“So, you said.” Nia stopped looking at him and started playing with her blanket. It had a bit of Scratch’s fur on it. The dog liked to cuddle in her bedroll while she was gone.

“I don’t understand why you did it,” her roguish friend said, breaking the silence. “That wasn’t like you.”

Nia sighed. “I recognised what he was when I saw him. His scourge gave him away. I knew Loviatar priests can grant a particular blessing. Thought it’d be nice to have it,” she muttered the last part quietly.

Not for the first time, she blamed herself for her own weakness. She’d never needed to be overtly strong, until she was kidnapped and taken to this adventure against her will. Until she was surrounded by people much stronger than her, the same ones who looked up to her as their leader. And she was failing at this job by being the weakest link.

“What is this blessing about?” Astarion asked, tilting his head, feline-like. She almost giggled, but she was too much in pain to do so.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “It’s something about being more resistant during fights. Which is why I wanted to have it.”

He laughed in disbelief. “Haven’t you heard the phrase, ‘curiosity killed the cat’?”

“Do I look like a cat to you?” She glared at him.

“You’re right, we’ve previously established I’m the cat here. Maybe we should modify the saying to ‘curiosity killed the wizard.’ Given what’s happened to both you and Gale. Though I guess you got a better deal than he did.”

Nia smiled a little. Though she couldn’t be certain, it felt as if Astarion was trying to comfort her.

“I know you wanted that blessing for whatever reason,” he continued. “But, you know, part of me can’t help but speculate that, perhaps, you did want to get hurt.”

She frowned at him, her fingers fiddling with her blanket. Where had this come from? “I assure you I didn’t.”

Astarion did not look convinced. “Hmm, I’m not so sure. It’s possible all my biting awakened something in you,” he said, whispering in her ear, his fingers barely grazing her arm.

Nia gasped at the feeling of his cold hand on her skin. She closed her mouth shut before a moan could escape from her lips. “Is this your way of asking me for a bit of my blood?”

“Oh, no, my dear,” the vampire said, pulling back. “I was just making fun of you, that’s all. I won’t feed from you right now, seeing all the blood that you needlessly lost ─which was a complete waste, mind you. I wouldn’t want to make you dizzy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you here? Did you come to laugh at me?”

“You wound me, my sweet,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “I simply wanted to see how my friend was faring. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are, Astarion.” Nia answered with a smile, something warm blooming in her chest at the thought of her guarded companion considering her his friend.

“Good. And now that I know you’ll survive and that you haven’t become addicted to pain, I can leave you to rest,” he said as he stood up.

“Goodnight, Astarion. Thanks for checking up on me.”

He waved her goodbye. Then, he stopped in front of her tent, his fingers touching the flaps. That was unusual for him. Nia was about to ask if something was wrong, when he started speaking.

“You know, I disagree with that priest,” he said, not turning around to look at her, his back straight. “I thought your screams and cries were perfectly delightful. I wouldn’t mind listening to them again.” He left after that, leaving her sputtering.

Nia groaned loudly. She buried her face in her hands, concealing her burning cheeks.

Just when things were starting to get better between the two, here comes Astarion to make it awkward again with his teasing. Although, a part of her did think he was serious for once. The thought only made everything worse.

“Why do I feel like this?” She said out loud.

Scratch barked in the distance.

Chapter Text

That morning Nia had decided that enough was enough. She was done with feeling awkward around Astarion. He was her companion. Her friend. They couldn’t be anything more, and this attraction that she felt needed to dissipate. She’d made a vow not to have sex anymore, and she was inclined to include having fantasies in there as well. She didn’t like who she was becoming in his presence. Needy. A stupid blushing mess. No, that wouldn’t do. She needed to get a grip. Astarion wasn’t even attracted to her. She was convinced the man would flirt with a wall if given the chance. Most of all, the rogue probably delighted in making her squirm, the bastard. She was tired of being an easy prey for him. She would confront him and put a stop to this.

Yes. That’s what she’d do.

Summoning all the courage she had, Nia got out of her tent, ready for battle. All thought, however, flew out of the window when she saw him there, outside his tent, reading a book in complete peace. The sunlight hit his face, making his pale skin shine in a pearlescent glow. His long eyelashes hid his eyes, casting shadows on his face. His hair curled just so around his ears. And his lips were set in a calm smile, one rarely seen on his expression. She gulped, her knees trembled, and her mouth dried.

Fuck.

He was gorgeous.

Cursing, Nia walked the other way and sat down next to Brunhilde. Her friend didn’t say anything, though her eyes did stray towards Astarion. She raised an eyebrow at her, which Nia promptly ignored in favour of the plate Gale had passed her. She munched her food, seething. The rest babbled next to her, aware of her mood, as they did their best to avoid the glaring troll in the room. The vampire chose that exact moment to join them at the campfire, striking up a conversation with Karlach. His laugh rang in Nia’s ears. She looked up and his eyes met hers. She felt as if she could drown and die in that ruby red. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away so fast her neck cracked. She promptly glared at the ground, grinding her teeth.

She was furious.

At him, for being so damned attractive, and at herself, for being so easily riled up. She wasn’t a character in one of her romance novels. She had no business swooning over him doing something as mundane as reading. Nia almost screamed. She thought hard as she bit her lips. She needed to fix this. But how? She couldn’t outright admit to his face that she felt something, whatever it was. He would never let her live it down. She supposed she could tell him to stop flirting with her, yet she firmly believed that would only spur him further. On the other hand, she didn’t want to push him away and risk hurting him. Although Astarion liked to hide under honeyed words and half-lidded eyes, Nia knew there was a fragility to him after centuries of suffering. There was some rapport between them, which only happened after a bit of teasing and flirting. If she were to point out she knew why he acted that way, well, that would certainly make for a very uncomfortable conversation for them both.

Alright. Talking was out of the question. Ignoring the issue, then, was the answer. Not that it had worked so far, but the hundredth time’s the charm.

Nia sighed more loudly than she’d intended, earning her the attention of all her companions.

“Are you okay, soldier?” Karlach asked her.

“Jus tired,” she mumbled unconvincingly. Unbeknownst to her, her friends all shared a look.

“Want me to give you a potion?” Shadowheart offered, already standing up.

“No, I… just need a moment.”

Nia stood up and gave her breakfast leftovers to Scratch, who wiggled his tail in excitement. She petted his head before leaving to the quiet place in the forest she loved to go to when she needed to think. Not that she wanted to ruminate on her problems any further. She sat on a fallen tree branch, her mind wandering as she listened to the birds chirping. It was such a serene ambience compared to the whirlwind in her soul. Baldur’s Gate was never this peaceful. It was distracting enough she never had to sit down and reflect, which might have been partially why she was so emotionally constipated in the first place.

The young elf let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

So, what, her mind supplied, if she liked Astarion? Would that be the end of the world? Yes, another part of herself countered. Yes, it would be. Because then, she would have to confront the fact she’d fallen right into his trap. Nia wasn’t sure, but she knew he wanted something out of her, and she doubted it had anything to do with her body. She couldn’t believe she’d been this stupid. Perhaps she needed a good rump in the woods to take the edge off. A good rump in the woods by herself as she didn’t trust anyone to lie with her and not get burnt. Hells, she was hopeless.

Feeling restless, Nia decided to go back to the camp. She was already highly strung; nothing could make it any worse.

Suddenly, she bumped straight into a hard surface. A hard surface which happened to be a chest.

“Oh, there you are, darling,” Astarion said, his eyes narrowing at her. “I was beginning to get worried. Had I known you wanted to touch my chest this badly, I would’ve come to you sooner.”

Nia instantly yelped, taking a step backwards and hiding her arms behind her back. The vampire chuckled, showing her his fangs. They glinted under the sunlight. Despite the fact Astarion was a creature of the night, he sparkled in the sun. It was as if he was meant to be outside, basking in the warm rays of daylight. He looked ethereal. Majestic. Untouchable.

Nia turned bright red at her own thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” He asked her, his stance relaxed. “What has got your undergarments in a twist?”

“Nothing,” she replied, ignoring the wild sprinting of her heart.

Her companion snorted. “Oh sure, I believe that. Come on, tell your lovable rogue what’s going on with you? Is it something I did, perhaps?”

Nia narrowed her eyes at him. “As a matter of fact,” she began saying, only to get cut off by the intensity of his stare. Had his eyes always been this specific shade of liquid maroon? Had he ever looked at her in this way? She became tongue tied. “You can feed from me tonight.” She ended up saying to her own mortification, her eyes widening and her jaw slacked at her own stupidity.

Astarion blinked owlishly at her, and then his lips curled into a shit-eating grin. “My sweet,” he said, “there’s nothing I’d like more.”

She almost groaned, but she pressed her lips together so no sound could come out.

“I’ll come to you tonight,” the vampire continued, oblivious to her internal battle. “When you’re snuggly wrapped in your bedroll, and we can have a little privacy. And this time, I’ll make sure I’m quiet. We don’t want to disturb your rest. But I will taste you. Savour you. Just enough to give me strength, and just enough to leave you wanting more.”

Any other day, Nia would have rolled her eyes and reminded him they already had an arrangement about his feeding time. Today, though, she felt faint from all the blood that rushed to her face. His cheesy lines were finally working for some unknown reason.

“Right,” she said, voice small. “I’ll see you later or not…your choice. Imgonnagonowseeyoubackincamp.”

With that she scampered off, her elf hearing not missing his low chuckles. He was having too much fun at her expense, while she was on the verge of suffering from a stroke. It was once she was in the safety of her tent that she realised what she had agreed to.

“Shit.”

Astarion laughed to himself, feeling a sadistic enjoyment at Nia’s embarrassment. The poor girl was mortified. He didn’t know if he was the root of whatever had bothered her in the morning, but now he was sure she finally felt a real attraction towards him. He’d won. Well, almost. Now he needed to work on making sure she stopped running off after barely speaking three words his way. How was he supposed to blow her mind with his sexual prowess if she was anywhere except by his side? He tutted. He’d find a way to get her to relax.

In the meantime, Astarion supposed he could lay back and enjoy his evening. He was positively famished. It was incredible what a few drops of Nia’s blood did to him. His strength would return to him in seconds. Much faster than when he fed from beasts. Humming a happy tune, he went back to camp. Nia had already hidden herself away, most likely in an effort to avoid him until night fell. No matter, he could entertain himself. He sat on his stool and picked up his copy of the sequel of Tangled Love. Yes, it was ironic that he kept reading these trash romance novels, however the story had him hooked. Now, the protagonists were dealing with an evil sorceress while the maiden tried to hide from the hero she was expecting their child. And, potentially, this evil sorceress was the maiden’s sister. The drama was delicious.

“Oh, Letty, he’s obviously going to find out eventually, you keep throwing up all over the place,” Astarion mumbled as he read. “If he doesn’t, then he’s an utter fool.”

He spent the day away in relaxation, his eyes leaving his book once in a while to follow Nia as she moved around camp. She pointedly ignored his staring, although it was obvious she was nervous. Astarion kept chuckling. Nia was so fun to fluster, that little treat of his. He was decided to make the most out of their night together, as she had oh so generously offered her blood.

Once the sun had set, and everyone had eaten dinner, the vampire waited patiently until everyone retired to their tents. A difficult feat, as his companions were particularly chatty tonight. Nia especially. Oh, how he laughed. She was trying to delay the unavoidable. Not that it mattered. Even their fearless leader had to rest eventually. When the moon was high up in the sky, and all his companions were snoring away, Astarion finally left his tent and sneaked into Nia’s. He stopped just outside her tent. He raised an eyebrow as he listened to her breathing and heartbeat. They were too fast for her to be in a trance. Intrigued, he opened the flaps and saw her form sprawled on her bedroll. Her eyes were closed. He smirked. So, she wanted to play being Sleeping Beauty, he thought, chuckling. He could roll with that.

As careful as always, he tiptoed until he reached her bedroll. He crouched, purposely making more sound than usual to signal his arrival. Her breath hitched. An involuntary reaction. He bit back his snickers. Sitting next to her, he silently observed her breasts moving up and down as she inhaled and exhaled. Her lips were pursed in a straight line, as she feigned being unconscious. She couldn’t fool him. The vampire remained unmoving, simply staring at her on purpose. She twitched a bit. He grinned. This was fun. Delicately, he brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, his fingers tracing her cheekbones. He watched as if by magic her face acquired a lovely shade of pink. He moved to straddle her then, his arms caging her head, and his breath fanning her. To her credit, she didn’t shift under him. He took his time to observe her properly. This close he could count every freckle on her face. See a fading scar next to her eye. He realised her eyelashes were a tad darker than her hair. Honey blond instead of a pale blond.

In an instant, her smell invaded his senses, making Astarion feel giddy with want. Her blood was so close now. Even so, he didn’t strike. No. He would take his time with her. He proceeded to tilt her head to the side, exposing her long neck. He let his breath ghost over her, goosebumps appearing on her flesh. He pressed his chest to hers, feeling her softness. He began licking her, listening as her heartrate spiked. He had told her he would savour her, so Nia should have been prepared. Astarion then started giving her open-mouthed kisses right where he could feel her pulse. He nipped at her neck, never quite breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave the skin red. A sharp inhale was the reaction he got. The more he continued with his ministrations, the more a certain scent became apparent. He hid his smile against her neck. He carried on, feeling her shake. He was working her up. Good. That’s what she got for running away from him.

Once the scent of her arousal was overpowering, he bit her. He was always gentle with her when he fed from her. Still, his actions were enough to cause her to stir under him. She moaned then. “Astarion,” she whispered so low anyone else might have missed it, but not him, not this close and not with his vampiric hearing. He smirked. So, Nia liked it when he bit her. That was useful information. She kept on shaking, her breath ragged as she gasped. One of his hands untucked her shirt from her trousers and began lightly touching the skin from her waist to her hips. He didn’t bother going any lower or higher. He would leave her wanting.

When he’d had his fill, he retracted his fangs. Astarion licked the blood that still trickled from the two punctures he had made. Then, he licked her wounds until they closed. All throughout, Nia shivered, her arousal still pungent. Satisfied, he gave her one last kiss, right on top of the bite mark, earning another little moan. He kissed her cheek as a goodbye, his lips lingering on her warm skin.

“Sweet dreams, my darling,” he whispered in her ear.

Then, he stood up to leave. He managed to reign in his laughter until he was in the sanctity of his tent. He chuckled there, feeling unbounded happiness.

Now was the time he’d been waiting for.

This time, Nia wouldn’t say no, and all the puzzle pieces would fall into place at long last.

“This is it, Astarion,” he told himself. “She’s all yours now.”

He ignored the sinking feeling he got at what he had to do. It didn’t matter. Her protection was worth it. This time, this game was for him, not for his former master. And that made all the difference to him.

Nia opened her eyes once she was sure she was alone in her tent. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession as she tried to calm her erratic heart. She cursed herself. She hadn’t intended to be awake when her vampire companion came to feed. Usually, she could fall deep into her trance once her head hit the pillow, but tonight it had been impossible for her to fall asleep due to all the adrenaline coursing through her veins. And her lack of unconsciousness meant that, despite her best efforts, Astarion now knew the attraction she held for him. Every touch, every kiss, had been done so on purpose. He wanted to properly tease her. He had tasted her, alright.

She sat on her bedroll, her hand touching her neck. She could still feel his lips on her skin. She flushed. She shifted her legs, finally noticing the wetness that had gathered on her undergarments. She whined.

This man was going to drive her insane.

Chapter Text

“You’re so wet for me already,” he murmured, fingers barely grazing her slit.

Nia couldn’t stop the deep mewl that came deep from her throat. She arched her back, canting her hips. Her body was set aflame by his phantom touch.

He tsked, patting her belly and then grabbing her hips in his harsh grasp so she would keep still. “You’re so needy, so desperate,” he taunted, the tips of his fingers circling her clit.

“Please,” she begged, sweat dripping from her forehead.

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely, I suppose I can give you what you want, darling.” His grin was sinful, the moonlight catching his incisor, making it glint. She gulped, feeling herself drenching even more.

He looked downright feral before he began tasting her upper thigh. Nia tilted her hips upward, furious. He was far away from where she wanted him. She felt his chuckle against her skin more than she heard it. His tongue continued trailing a path all the way to her core. He looked up, his ruby eyes meeting hers. With another grin, he dove right into her trembling cunt, making her cry out.

“Yes, keep crying my name,” his voice rumbled from inside her.

“Astarion!”

Nia woke up with a start. Her heart hammered wildly as her eyes focused on the ceiling of her tent. She could feel sweat drenching her shirt. She knew her undergarments were ruined from how slick they felt against her skin. Her core throbbed in want. She hid her eyes with her arm. She felt so foolish. So depraved.

She usually didn’t have dreams when she was meditating. She must have fallen asleep at some point and entered a reverie. An uncommon thing to happen to her. It’s stress, she decided. That is right, she was too wound up tight after discovering the cultists of the Absolute. They hadn’t been able to free the druid, the only one who could help them get rid of their tadpoles. Moreover, the Dream Visitor had encouraged them to reach Moonrise Towers, which was so far away from the camp. Never mind the whole issue with the tieflings, who were unable to leave thanks to the goblins. It was too much for a person like her, more accustomed to her books and her studies than fighting. Hells, she had never killed another person before this adventure ─the thought still left her reeling. She just needed to find release. Find a way to relax that did not include her companions, particularly their resident vampire.

Nia felt like throwing herself in the adjacent river as her mind kept conjuring up scenes from her dream. A bath, now that she thought about it, didn’t sound so bad. Normally, they would take turns bathing at night, after their adventures of the day had left them sweaty and covered in fluids she’d rather not name. But she’d never bathed before sunrise. She peeped out of her tent, noticing the first rays of sunlight making their appearance. She quickly grabbed a change of clothes and a bar of soap she’d bought at the Emerald Grove. She peeked once more, making sure her friends were inside their tents, and left.

The river was, thankfully, peaceful at this time of the day. The ripple of the water and the chirping of the birds calmed her nerves. She undressed, leaving her trousers and shirt neatly folded in a corner. Nia, then, jumped into the water. She sank, wetting her hair and freeing it from her braids. When she rose, she felt the sun on her skin, the sensation making her smile. Right there, in the middle of nature, it was so easy to forget all her troubles. She hummed as she scrubbed herself clean, the soap suds gently coating her, like a lover’s caress. The thought alone made her pause, her nipples perking up as her idle mind remembered the ghostly feeling of his hands on her body.

Nia gasped as her own hands cupped her breasts, the memory of her dream resurfacing. She looked down at herself, shame bubbling in her chest. She put her hands away. The elf sank back into the water until only her eyes were visible. This was getting ridiculous. Yes, she hadn’t so much as held another person’s hand in half a decade, but it wasn’t like she was sex obsessed. She hoped. And wasn’t the whole purpose of her celibacy to stop desiring this type of connection for her own good? Nia didn’t want to hurt people anymore just because she couldn’t control her urges. Much less her friend, with whom she lived in close quarters and would continue to do so for some time more.

Sighing, she finished her bath and changed. When she returned, her companions were awake and already preparing breakfast.

“Someone took a morning bath, I see,” a sultry voice said behind her.

Astarion.

Nia held her breath and schooled her face into a neutral expression. “I just felt like it,” she explained, voice raspier than normal.

He took a strand of hair and fiddled with it. Though she had braided it, it was still damp, even with her drying spell. “I approve of this change,” he said, with a smirk. “You smell divine early in the morning.”

She could’ve slammed her head against the nearest tree if that meant she could control the little shake her body gave against her will.

“G-glad, erm, you think that way,” she stammered, cheeks flushing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, breakfast awaits.”

“Yes, my dear, go and eat. You must be ravenous.”

Nia tried to ignore the innuendo as she walked away towards the campfire. She did a poor job at it, his vainly disguised snickers haunting her until she took a plate and sat down next to Karlach. Her friend was busy retelling some of her adventures in Avernus to Wyll, who seemed engaged in the conversation. On the other side, Lae’zel and Shadowheart were bickering about something, not that Nia cared anymore. Their constant arguments could very well be about the artifact as they were likely to be about their opinions on the weather. Meanwhile, Gale had managed to trap Brunhilde into a conversation regarding the magical properties of certain mushrooms. The half-orc looked desperately at Nia, mouthing for her to save her, but Nia just shrugged and gave her an amused smile. All in all, it was a normal day in camp with her eccentric companions. That was until Astarion, who normally remained outside of his tent during breakfast, sauntered over and sat next to her, their shoulders brushing.

“So, how was the river today?” He asked low enough that she was the only one who could hear him.

“Calm as always, why?”

“I was thinking of taking a bath myself in the mornings from now on. Maybe you could join me next time.”

She choked on her food. Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she saw that insufferable smirk on him. She swore under her breath.

“I didn’t think you out of everyone needed someone to keep an eye out in case of beasties or bandits,” Nia said as evenly as possible, though she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, much less the rogue at her side.

“Oh, I assure you, your eyes would only be on the lookout for me,” he said, no doubt pleased with himself when her ears turned pink.

“Yes, to keep you from eating all the wildlife,” she managed to reply.

“Oh, but then what would feed me, I wonder. Unless, of course, you’re offering yourself as the main course and not only the dessert.”

Fuck, that sounded too tempting. No. Wait. What was she thinking?

“I don’t have enough blood in my body for that, I’m afraid,” she answered with what she hoped was a normal smile.

“I wasn’t talking about your blood, darling. There are other exquisite things about you that I’d just love to eat.”

She stood up immediately, straight as a rod, garnering the attention of all her friends.

“I just remembered we need more ingredients for our potions. I’ll pick up some before we leave.”

Nia saw Gale about to say something, but she left as fast as she could before he could follow her. She felt Astarion’s eyes boring in her back as she walked away.

“Come on, Scratch.”

Once she was far from camp and with her dog as her sole company, she was finally able to breathe and think. She picked different plants, her mind leagues away, as she contemplated the walking enigma that was Astarion. The man was moody and prickly. He carried himself as if there was a tempest deep within him. Understandable, given what he’d shared about his life. Two hundred years of torture would take their toll on anyone, so it wasn’t much of a surprise he wasn’t the most agreeable of her companions. Even Karlach, the embodiment of sunlight, would sour under such conditions.

Nia firmly believed he barely tolerated them, and he did so mostly out of a sense of self-preservation he probably developed during his time as a thrall. However, she did want to trust that their relationship had grown enough that Astarion considered her a friend. That he understood she didn’t want to ever hurt him. That she trusted him. She wanted to be trusted in return.

She could, arguably, take a little teasing if that is what it took to deserve his trust. Then again, Astarion had been recently toeing the boundaries between light flirting and asking her for sex. Nia had to wonder if it was all some sort of sick joke to him, or if he was genuinely attracted to her. The vampire had been quite honest about being the kind of person who enjoyed casual sex, so it wouldn’t be so out of place if he was only looking for that. Not that it mattered. She wouldn’t cave even when his eyes gazed into hers, even if his touch set her alight.

Her real gripe, if she was honest, was with her own feelings. For a long time now, for decades, the wizard hadn’t been this flustered over anyone. Yes, she found her past lovers to be beautiful and exciting, yet they never elicited much out of her other than lust. She took them to bed and spent a few hours with them finding pleasure in each other’s companies, without her heart feeling like she’d just run around the entirety of Baldur’s Gate. As attractive as she’d found them, and as flirty as Nia herself could be, most of her lovers did not have a hold on her heart. She was the one which possessed all the power in their relationship. And she broke their hearts, each and every time, because hers was incapable of emotions anymore.

This, whatever it was, was an anomaly. She felt like she was nineteen again. Back when she’d been a young elf who laughed and lived so purely it was a joy to be around her. The version of herself which was deserving of love. Not the jaded waste she had become since. Not the anxious wizard who hadn’t left her house in months until she was abducted by a Nautiloid ship. Not the woman who had sworn off sex from her life forever, least she left more broken hearts in her wake.

Astarion, despite his darkness, was ─and he would never let her live this down if he knew she thought of him like this─ quick-witted, funny, skilled, and intellectual, not to mention gorgeous. All things she valued in a partner. Many of her lovers had shared those characteristics and hadn’t come close to making her quiver with want. What was it then, which made her crave him this much? Was it that it was forbidden? Was it that he was a vampire? Had she become somehow addicted to danger? Nia didn’t think so. Something was different this time around, so different she didn’t even know when it had begun.

Surely it wasn’t during their first meeting, when he had held her tight against his chest, a dagger close to puncturing her neck. She’d, of course, felt every muscle against her back, but she’d been more preoccupied with staying alive to care. After that infamous first encounter, any other person would have hated him, yet Nia had ultimately given him the benefit of the doubt seeing as the situation they were in was disconcerting enough. His friendliness right after had seemed too false, his silver tongue praising her at the same time he made jabs at her. It was only after she’d started flirting back and being equally as sarcastic that he’d relaxed in her presence enough to let her see bits and pieces of the real Astarion.

Perhaps, then, it’d been after the first time he had complimented her. Nia could tell he was annoyed at her goodwill when she helped other people, however he either kept his mouth shut or complained less than Lae’zel. So, it came as a surprise when they had a sort of moment while watching the stars.

“Good, I don’t want you to run off just yet,” he told her after he wondered if their little adventure would be over soon.

Nia had been at a loss, stuck between wanting to believe him or accepting it’d been a joke.

“I’m not easily impressed by people, but you’re stronger than I gave you credit for,” he continued with his praises.

“I’m just trying to survive. Like you,” she said, bewildered by his sudden niceness.

“Yes, we’re more similar than I thought.” Nia hadn’t believed him then and she wasn’t quite sure they were too similar, but she’d found they had some things in common after all. He was much more than met the eye.

Their conversation had continued with as much normalcy as one could muster in Astarion’s presence.

“You have your charms… more than you think,” he suddenly told her, giving her that flirty smile she was getting used to. It was too composed. Too perfect.

For reasons unknown, that line had sparked something in her that’d been dormant for years. “Perhaps we should get to know one another better…” she said, hips moving as she came closer. She felt devilish in that moment. If he wanted to manipulate her, she’d one up him in his own game.

“A delicious thought, but…” he trailed off, his face revealing he wanted to leave her wanting.

Then she chuckled. “I’m joking. Relax.”

“Hmm? Yes, of course. Me too,” he said to save face; however, Nia knew she’d turned things around, taking him out of his comfort zone.

Ever since, he’d taken her as a challenge. He lived to mercilessly tease her, and he laughed when she flirted right back.

No, she’d known then his words, as lovely as they were, had been false. Enticing, yes, but as deceptive as the rogue was.

It was possible all this had started, then, when he had asked to bite her. It was only there, in the dim light, when she noticed his paleness had worsen as the days had passed by. The knowledge that he was a vampire had been frightening, and yet, something told her he really didn’t mean any harm. Mostly because it wasn’t convenient for him, but that she could trust.

“Thank you,” he replied when he was certain she wouldn’t attempt to kill him. “Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” She raised her eyebrows at that. “I only need a little taste, I swear.”

Nia had wagered the pros and cons in her mind. On one hand, he could very easily kill her. She was weak unlike their other companions, the easiest to trap and maim and murder. Even so, Astarion hadn’t seemed like he had struck to kill. Had he been faster, she’d be dead by now. That made her trust him, if only for a bit. If what he said was true, then he did need blood to survive. He most likely hadn’t chosen to become a vampire, she thought, feeling compassion for him.

“Fine,” she said at last. “But not a drop more than you need.”

“Really?” She’d surprised him, the first of many more times. “I─ of course. Not one drop more.”

Nia lay on her bedroll again, nervous as he crouched over, straddling her and keeping her in place. Then, in the blink of an eye, Astarion had struck, his bite feeling like a shard of ice into her neck. She’d tried to relax, but she could hear her pulse quickening, her breaths catching in her throat. The pain soon had given way to throbbing numbness, realising there was only her and Astarion on top of her, existing, joined together in one. He had held her head, as if she was his most prized possession. She’d held his back, using it to anchor herself until it became too much. Her hands had slipped, falling to her side. She’d felt almost overjoyed as her mind continued to fade. That train of thought had faltered as real fear seeped through her, and she was suddenly very awake.

“Astarion?” She gasped. When he didn’t hear her, she tried again, using all her strength to push on him until he noticed. “That’s enough.”

“Mmm? Oh, of course.”

He’d been different when he pulled away from her. More confident.

“That… that was amazing.” He licked his lips as he eyed her. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel… happy!”

Astarion had later told her he only fed from the vermin his master allowed him to eat, which made the whole exchange more meaningful. But, back then, she hadn’t said anything. She’d looked up at him from her bedroll, her limbs tingling, feeling returning to them little by little, as her neck had continued to bleed.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you fight,” she mentioned, still sitting down, her mind hazy from the blood loss.

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing.”

He left her then, to hunt something more substantial than her.

“This is a gift, you know, I won’t forget it,” he told her before leaving her all by herself with more questions than answers.

Ever since, Nia felt a strange sense of pride when Astarion fed from her. The thought of being what kept him invigorated and healthy made her feel warm all over. Likewise, there was something rather sensual about the whole affair. The pain from his bite soon gave way to pleasure as he drank. It was possible vampire fangs released some sort of painkiller to keep their victims dazed and happy while their lifeblood was taken from them, she surmised. She’d felt it on the second time Astarion had asked her for blood. He must have sensed it too, because he’d later asked to feed while she slept, as to not disturb her rest, he’d said. It was as if he’d felt awkward at her obvious want. So, she’d agreed, waking up with a sore neck that was patched come morning each time. The last time notwithstanding.

Regardless, if the first bite hadn’t been the event which had incited these feelings, it was fair to say it’d been what had made Astarion be more open with her. After that, he’d told her about his life. How his master had tortured him for two hundred years. How he’d finally gotten the freedom he’d wanted for so long. How this curse had been sold to him as a means to survive after he’d been beating up within an inch of his life. All lies from a cruel slaver. His life was all torture. All part of this wretched existence he wished to leave behind.

Nia had met a different Astarion after. Not the vampire spawn nor the lying rogue. The Astarion who liked to read poetry. The Astarion who had no clue how to accept gifts without them being a transaction. The man who was sensitive towards art. The witty prankster. The unabashed flirter. The man who’d lost his identity to the passage of time. The one who wondered if he was indeed a monster. The person with whom Nia felt free to speak her thoughts to, because even if he teased her or judged her, he still listened to everything she had to say. The man who mended her robes and taught her how to shoot an arrow when even her own father had failed at that. The man who wanted to be saved.

He was a paradox. Beyond his bitterness and his demons, Nia saw the man that Astarion could be. Perhaps the man he used to be before that monster had snatched him away. She liked him. She liked spending time with him, getting to know him. Listening to his stories and his remarks. Laughing at his jokes. Even sitting silently by his side was fun. And a big part of herself so dearly wished she could help him, not fix him ─gods knew she was broken herself, although in other ways─ but show him he didn’t need to be afraid anymore. That he could be whoever he wanted. He could even be kind and caring. That he could learn how to trust. How to trust her.

“Oh, you meant be ‘kinder’? Pet bunnies, that sort of thing?” He’d said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, that one time he’d gotten drunk on a bear.

Before that, he’d alluded to the tadpoles being a gift then, a gift the two of them should enjoy and use to become better.

“True, you can start over. You can be better than what he made you,” she replied. He had taken her words to mean he could become more powerful than Cazador, his true ambitions coming out.

Once he’d understood her real meaning, he’d scoffed at her. “I’ve no objection to being nice, of course. Once I have the power to bend others to my will.”

And there was that front. The one he put on to protect himself, when he’d shown her, he could be better if he just gave himself a chance.

“You’re free now, that’s what matters,” she said, trying to imbue him with hope.

“Is it? What good is freedom if I’m always watching the shadows?” He replied, ironic. “No, I’ll be safe when I’m powerful enough to grind Cazador into the dust. Powerful enough to do whatever the hell I want.”

“The strong have a duty to protect the weak,” she reminded him. Nia wanted Astarion to see he needn’t be a power-hungry beast.

“Ha! They’re doing a piss poor job, then. The strong had two centuries to pluck me from torture, but no one came. No, it was the mind flayers that rescued me. They gave me a gift: the strength to take my own freedom. I’m embracing this power, you should too.”

And yet, in spite of his words, he’d been kind to her more than once for some unfathomable reason. It couldn’t all be a ruse, could it?

These thoughts made her spiral. The understanding that her feelings for him were more than lust horrified her. It shouldn’t have. It really shouldn’t if she were a stable person. Which she clearly wasn’t because she was almost sobbing in the woods, plants in her hands, with a dog trying to bite his own tail in the background.

For almost forty years, Nia had been so closed off that she’d categorised others as friends or people she desired. The thought that a friendship could turn into more was preposterous. Yet, here she was, realising Astarion might be more than a crush on a very attractive man, and the thought alone obliterated her.

“No,” she whispered, lips trembling. “It can’t happen.”

Astarion was fragile enough, new enough to this world and his freedom. He didn’t need her complicating his life. These longings could never be. So, Nia locked them away in a vault inside her mind, where she kept everything that she wanted to forget. It wouldn’t do her any good to act on them. To believe his words when he was most likely messing with her. She needed to get over him and fast.

Nia recovered as much as she could, and went back to camp, ignoring with all her might his eyes, lest guilt could creep back on her. She shook her head to dispel those thoughts.

However, she couldn’t escape herself as she tranced. He was there in her dreams. Always.

“You’re so perfect for me, darling,” he purred as he thrusted into her.

She felt lost in the sensation, his very touch igniting her. To have him inside her was better than she’d imagined.

“Don’t hold back, my dear. Let me hear you, let me feel all of you.”

She screamed his name as she came in waves, her back arching to meet him. He pulled her then in a messy kiss, his lips tasting like blood. Her blood. He never stopped plunging into her with desperation, eliciting a second climax. He was close. She could feel it.

“Nia, I l─”

She woke up with a start, heaving. Her sheets were completely drenched and her legs quivered. She slapped a hand on her forehead.

Fuck.

It was over for her.

She didn’t think she could resist much longer.

Chapter Text

The Worg Pens in the goblin camp were as miserable as the rest of the building. They were cold and gloomy, not even one sliver of sunlight came through. The deformed beasts which resided there smelt horridly, like a putrid mix between rotten meat, wet dog, and curdled milk. The vampire regarded the place with a sneer of disgust. Being here is torture enough, he thought, shivering as the place reminded him of the kennels in Cazador’s palace, which were more his home than the room he shared with the other spawn. It was the perfect place to keep prisoners, Astarion decided. Then, it seemed that the information they’d gathered was correct. Halsin, the First Druid from the Emerald Grove, was definitely being kept here if he had to venture.

The four of them hid behind a wall, observing the perimeter. The cells for the prisoners were mostly empty, except for one with a brown bear in it. Two children pelted the animal with rocks, while an older goblin encouraged them in their act of cruelty. A few guards walked from side to side, patrolling the area. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for a jail. The real issue was attempting a rescue mission without alerting any of the other goblins. The pesky creatures surrounded the whole building like rats.

“Do you think that’s Halsin?” Brunhilde whispered.

“Well, he’s a druid,” Nia replied. “They can famously transform into animals. A bear seems like a standard form for them. I could use Speak with Animals to check.”

“Must we really rescue the druid?” Astarion complained. “Can’t we simply take control of the camp?”

“No if we don’t want to get found out,” Nia said. “Once they discover we’re not True Souls, it’s over for us.”

He sighed. He supposed his leader was right. Not that it would stop him from complaining about it.

“Besides, we promised to save him,” the young wizard continued.

“You promised to save him. We’re just joining on the adventure.”

“You’ll stop complaining when you get to kill a few goblins.”

Astarion grinned wickedly. “And here I thought you hated killing.”

Lae’zel suddenly cursed in Githyanki. “Tas’ki. Can you two elves focus on the task at hand? We need to move quickly if we want to be successful.”

“Lae’zel’s right,” their second in command said. “We need to get rid of those guards, and the children.”

“I could cause a distraction,” Nia offered, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the cells. “Play with the children or do something that leaves the guards with their flank open, giving you enough time to attack.”

“Look at you, such a strategist,” the rogue cooed at her, delighting in the way her ears turned red.

The leader cleared her throat. “While that happens, Astarion can lockpick the door and free the bear. Hopefully it’s Halsin and not some random animal.”

“So did you bring me here just to open doors?” He said, miffed.

“No, I also brought you for your sneak attacks.”

“Glad to be of use.” He pressed his chest against her back, earning a little gasp from her.

Lae’zel smacked both their heads. “Enough! Stop with all this flirting. What are we going to do?” She hissed at them.

Nia moved slightly away from him, as much as the cramped space allowed her to. Her heart raced in a delightful way. Astarion smirked. He opened his mouth to make a snide remark, but Brunhilde beat him to it.

“Nia will create a diversion, you and I’ll attack the guards while they’re not looking, and Astarion will free the bear,” she summarised. Then, she forcefully pushed Lae’zel back when a guard got too close to them, pressing her flat against the wall with her hand on her chest. The githyanki closed her eyes in pleasure. Astarion raised an eyebrow at that. It seemed the entire party was distracted today.

“What about the children?” Lae’zel cleared her throat once the guard left the area. “We must stop them before they alert the other guards.” She was, unsurprisingly, unimpressed with the plan.

“I could knock them out,” Astarion said with a sly smile. “I’ve been told I’m here for my sneak attacks.” The last part was said directly into Nia’s ear, making her shiver.

Lae’zel looked as if she was two seconds away from murdering him. “Astarion, I swear to Vlaakith, if you keep distracting Nia, I will personally tie you up and leave you here with the worgs.”

His lips curled wickedly. “Is that a threat or an offer?”

Brunhilde sighed sharply. “Are you sure we can do this?” She asked Nia.

The wizard pinched the bridge of her nose. “We must. We have no other options. Halsin might be the only one who can help us with our parasite problem.”

“Alright, I’ll behave,” Astarion relented seeing as the gith hadn’t stopped glaring at him. “For now,” he whispered loud enough so Nia could hear. He purposely pressed himself against her once more, his hips rubbing her behind. A certain aroma wafted through the area, making him inhale sharply. She was particularly receptive to him as of late, which he was thoroughly enjoying. The rogue knew he was making his poor leader suffer. She was so close to pulling him away to a crammed hallway, he could tell. To have him or to murder him, he wasn’t sure, though.

“Right,” Nia said, voice wavering. “Then, I’ll approach the cells with Astarion. You two, hide until you can take both guards out.”

“You better keep your paws to yourself, vampire,” Lae’zel snarled at him.

“Likewise, gith,” he countered, gesturing with a tilt of his jaw to Brunhilde. The githyanki warrior only glowered at him.

Nia tugged on his doublet, gaining his attention. “Let’s go,” she muttered, and then straightened herself, trying to appear normal.

“Coming, darling,” he purred as he followed her, never more than two steps behind her.

They calmly walked towards the cells, nodding to the guards who gruffly greeted them with a “True Soul.” When they approached them, the goblin children were still giggling as they kept on throwing rocks at the bear. The bear could only growl, showing its fangs, trapped as it was.

“Again! Again! Make it squeal again,” one said with too much glee.

Nia steeled herself and whispered the incantation to speak with animals. Crossing her arms, she glared at the children. Astarion rolled his eyes, knowing that she was about to admonish the little truants.

“Sharper stones might cut through all that fur,” she said much to his surprise. He raised an eyebrow at her, impressed. Who knew she had it in her to be cruel?

Nia didn’t say much after that. They both observed as the other child threw another rock at the bear, making it whimper. Then, it was her turn to pick a rock herself and throw it. That’s when Astarion noticed her true intentions. As she leant down, she muttered something to the bear, her lips barely moving. The beast stared at her with knowing eyes. She nodded once before throwing the rock, which tumbled to the ground with a loud thud. Before the children could berate her for her failure, the bear slammed against the cell doors, prying them open. One fell, trapping the older goblin underneath it, who shouted from the pain. The goblin squirmed as the bear growled. Astarion cursed behind Nia, grabbing his daggers. Her hand shot towards him, stopping his movements.

“Wait,” she muttered, glancing back to him. “It’s okay.”

The bear stood beside Nia and snarled at the children.

“G-guards!” They yelled, attracting the attention of the patrols in the perimeter and two more from another room. Before one could attack, the bear rushed and mauled him with its jaws. Another guard took out her sword and attempted to strike Nia with it. The bladesinging wizard parried the attack with her own blade. From the shadows, Brunhilde shot an arrow to one of the approaching guards. Meanwhile, Lae’zel left her hideout to ram her spear into the other guard.

The children kept running and crying for help, but Astarion was fast enough. “Oh, no, you don’t.” He seized them by their clothes before they could leave the pens. They squealed like rabbits as they moved, attempting to free themselves. The rogue, then, threw them on the ground, the two falling on their faces. With the hilt of both daggers, Astarion knocked them out. Not a single drop of blood was spilt. Nia would be proud.

Behind him, the fight continued. Thankfully, it didn’t look like more guards were coming. Astarion took out his bow and an arrow, and he fired it to the goblin Nia was fighting, wounding her shoulder and making her fall back. The wizard took the opportunity to use Shocking Grasp on her. Another guard dodged all of Brunhilde’s arrows, making his way towards the giant cauldrons filled with grease. He spilt them all over the ground.

“Step back!” Nia shouted and fired a fire bolt at the ground, burning the guard to a crisp.

On the other side of the room, the bear leapt and ripped apart the goblin that Lae’zel had been attacking. The githyanki nodded gratefully towards the animal. Astarion kept firing arrows to the other guard, keeping her far away from Nia, just enough for her to kill the goblin with fire missiles. There was one guard left which soon met his demise by the combined hands of Brunhilde and Lae’zel, the former attacking him with her mace and the latter with her spear. The five panted, the room stinking with the smell of blood and burnt grease. As they caught their breath, they witnessed the bear taking the shape of a wood elf. He was tall and muscular, with brown hair. His handsome face had scars which gave him a dangerous appearance. Astarion was quite impressed with his looks. They approached him, waiting to see if this was, indeed, Halsin.

“Pardon the viscera,” he said, voice gruff. “One should cherish all of nature’s bounty… but goblin guts are quite far down the list.” Astarion chuckled at his words. “You aided a bear without knowing if it would salvage you?” He said next, turning to Nia. He laughed. “A true friend of nature. Or perhaps a lunatic.”

Nia winced. “I apologise for the rocks,” she said, as she scratched her head. “It was meant to be a distraction.”

“No need to apologise, I got your intentions from your use of the spell. Excellent choice, if I do say so myself,” he answered. “Either way, I owe thanks.”

“Are you the druid?” Lae’zel interrupted.

“Well, I am a druid,” he answered. “Halsin’s my name.”

They sighed in relief.

“You are the Master Halsin of the Emerald Grove, correct?” Brunhilde inquired.

“Yes, but just Halsin will suffice. Unbecoming to demand honorifics from the ones who saved my hide.”

“Glad we could be of help,” Nia said, smiling at the man who regarded her with twinkling eyes. Astarion frowned at the attention.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect anyone would come to my aid. Who in their right mind would infiltrate a goblin infested temple. Unless…” His eyes widened. “That look in your eyes. In all of your eyes. I’ve seen it before. Are you feeling alright?” Halsin reached out towards Nia, yellow magic flowing from his outstretched palm as it enveloped the wizard. The magic sizzled and then it dissipated. “Oak Father preserve you, child. You’re infected, aren’t you? The mind flayers’ spawn.”

Nia nodded grimly.

“But something’s different,” the druid continued. “You’re aware of the monster inside you. You don’t bow to the Absolute, like the True Souls do… How is this possible?”

“Well, that’s precisely what we intend to find out,” Astarion interjected. “We escaped from an illithid ship after being infected. Maybe the process was interrupted.”

“And we found this artefact,” Nia said as she took it out from her bag. “Perhaps it has something to do with it.”

Halsin regarded them and then the object in Nia’s hand. “Hmm… That looks very alien. As alien as the mind flayers. They do not belong in this world.”

“Tell us about it,” Astarion said.

“So, it’s no coincidence you found me here, I’ll wager,” Halsin said. “You’re after a cure for this parasite.”

“Yes,” Lae’zel hissed. “Now tell us what you know, druid.”

Halsin raised his hands to placate the githyanki warrior. “I’ve been studying these parasites for a while now. Ever since I discovered these so called True Souls are infected with them.”

“And?” Lae’zel pressed.

“Someone is using very powerful magic to modify these tadpoles. They are using them to exert control over the infected.”

Great. Just as Astarion had been freed from one master, he was in danger of his mind being taken over by a cult.

“Then, what can we do?” Nia asked. “Do you know how to cure us?”

The druid shook his head. “I’m sorry to say, I can’t undo the magic, which means I can’t cure you.”

Astarion groaned. So much effort for nothing. He was about to complain to Nia, when Halsin kept speaking.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

“How?” Brunhilde asked, crossing her arms.

They had become weary from all the battles and the infiltration and everything that had happened since they’d been taken by the illithids. They were at their breaking point.

“I didn’t find what I came here for, a way to remove the tadpoles. But I found the next best thing. I found out where they come from. That must be where these enchantments are placed on them, and it’s where you’ll find your cure.”

“Don’t tell me it’s─” Nia began saying.

“Moonrise Towers,” Halsin finished for her. “I overheard that the cultists are sending all of their captives there.”

The four groaned together.

“Wait… you already knew?”

“Let’s just say we’ve heard things about it,” Nia said.

“It appears that innocents go in, True Souls come out of there. Given that all of these True Souls are infected, it has to be the source of this magic. If you want to find a cure, you must head there and discover how the tadpoles are being manipulated.”

“That’s grand and all,” Astarion said, his patience running out. “But how will we ever get there? What if it’s a trap?”

“I told you our best bet was the crèche,” Lae’zel argued, looking pointedly at Brunhilde.

“Will you come with us to Moonrise, then?” Nia asked Halsin. Her shoulders were tense and Astarion saw sweat beading from her forehead. She hadn’t expected any of this.

“I wish I could, but there’s still work I’ve yet to finish, blood I’ve yet to spill.”

“My dear, you’re finally speaking our language,” Astarion said. “Tell us who needs to be killed, and we’ll take care of it for you. In exchange, we want your help.”

Halsin sighed. “I’ve no right to ask more of you… but if you could help me, then yes, I’d be free to join your journey to Moonrise.”

“So, how do we help?” Nia asked.

“Help me eliminate the drow Minthara, the hobgoblin Dror Ragzlin, and that perversion of a priestess, Gut. They are the ones holding these parasites together. Remove them and nature will cure itself.”

Nia thought about it for a moment. She turned to look at the rest. Lae’zel grunted, Brunhilde nodded and Astarion gave her a defeated smile.

“Deal.”

The four returned, bruised and tired. Halsin had stayed behind in the temple, saying he was going to attempt to get more information. Not that Astarion cared. Their parasite problem was decidedly becoming a bigger issue than they’d originally thought. Now it possibly included defeating an entire cult. It was just Astarion’s luck it’d come to this. He cursed at the gods for making his life more difficult than it needed to be.

Once they got to camp, their companions perked up when they heard their steps. They all rushed to welcome them, sending them hopeful looks. They, perhaps, had assumed they were bringing news of a cure. They were crestfallen when Nia announced they hadn’t found anything of the sort yet.

“Moonrise Towers,” Gale said out loud. “Where in the hells is that?”

Wyll took out a map and spread it on a table they recently found. “That’s passing the Rosymorn Monastery Trail. That’s were my father was taken to.”

“So, still a long way to go,” Karlach said, peeking at the map.

“Never mind that,” Shadowheart replied. “It means we have more fighting to do with these cultists.”

“Yes, well, we’re not precisely thrilled about it,” Astarion said.

Nia rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, I really did believe Halsin might have a cure.”

“A cure?” The bard, who had been in his own world writing a song, appeared behind Astarion, making the vampire jump. “Do you mean a cure for the illithid parasites? Why, I have it.”

The eight stared at the man, agape. Astarion recovered first. He grabbed Volo and shook him. “You had the cure this whole time and you didn’t bother to tell us?”

“I did tell your leader here, that I was researching the parasite problem,” he answered.

Seven pairs of eyes landed on Nia. She shrugged. “I didn’t think he was serious.”

“But I was,” the bard replied. “And I have it with me. I could cure you as a thank you for saving me from the goblins.”

They all turned to look at one another.

“Are you sure?” Shadowheart asked.

“But of course.”

“What’s the process?” Brunhilde asked.

“A rather simple operation.”

“Well, if it is simple, let’s get going with it,” Karlach said, walking towards the man.

“Hang on,” Gale pulled her back using his Mage Hand. “We’ve been told there’s a strong magic surrounding these worms, magic not even a famous healer can break. No offense, but you’re just a bard. How can we trust you?”

“I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see.”

They all frowned at him.

“Nia, what do you think?” Wyll turned to their leader. “Should we try it or go to Moonrise Towers? I’m going either way, but if I’m honest, I’d rather be cured by then.”

Nia hesitated. She bit her lip, her eyes finding each one of her companions. “I’ll… I’ll try it, for you. If it doesn’t work, we’ll go directly to Moonrise Towers.”

Astarion was the first one to object. “Are you seriously considering risking your life? What if it doesn’t work?” He was upset because if something went wrong, his entire plan would fail. It wasn’t because he cared about her. No. Not at all.

“It’s okay, Astarion,” she reassured him. “We need to think about all possibilities.”

“Chk, the only real cure will be found at a crèche, I’ll tell you that much,” Lae’zel said.

“It won’t hurt to try this approach,” Nia said, voice small.

He wanted to say that, yes, it was likely going to hurt, but he shut his mouth. The wizard looked anxious enough.

“Then, follow me this way, my hero,” Volo said and took her to a rock that was long enough to fit her whole body. The bard grabbed a pillow for her head. The rest stayed put, watching from afar. All except Astarion. He had a bad feeling about this. “Please, lie down.”

Shakily, Nia did as she was told. She smiled at the rogue in reassurance. Astarion shook his head at her from behind Volo.

“My research turned up a rather brilliant technique that seems quite actionable,” the bard explained. Nia nodded at him. “It’s not too deep. Just behind the orbital socket. I could attempt an extraction. I’ve a needle in my tunic, after all…”

Nia’s eyes widened when Volo took out a giant needle. The vampire heard her whimper loud and clear.

“How many times have you done this before?” She asked, voice higher in pitch than it usually was.

“I assure you, I’ve dreamt of it a thousand times over,” Volo said, the needle dangling too close to Nia’s eyes for comfort.

Astarion had heard enough. He grabbed the bard’s arm and pulled the needle from his fingers. “Alright, that’s it,” he said. “You are not going anywhere near her eye,” he told the bard. “And you, darling, are mental. I can’t let you go through with this.”

Nia didn’t even have the energy to complain. “But then we’ll have to kill the leaders and go to Moonrise,” she said pitifully. Ah. That’s when he realised what was going on.

“We’ll go to Moonrise,” Brunhilde said, approaching them. “What if you lose an eye?”

“I assure you she won’t, but if the lady doesn’t want to risk her beautiful irises, maybe one of you would like to try?”

The collective no was deafening.

“Oh, fine. I’ll continue travelling with you. So, if at any point any of you want to try, I’ll be here.”

The vampire thought that no one was stupid enough to risk their eyesight for the off chance Volo’s mad plan would work.

“Then, it’s decided,” Wyll said. “We kill the leaders, and then we head to Moonrise Towers.”

“And we save your father,” Nia added.

“That’s the plan.”

Astarion deeply sighed.

They just couldn’t catch a break, could they? Come the morrow, they would have to potentially fight a whole goblin armada. Danger kept sniping at their heels. He narrowed his eyes at his leader. And no one was more in danger than Nia and her godsdamned bleeding heart.

No, that wouldn’t do, he decided as he observed her burrow her face on a map. Not on his watch.

“You know, you should really stop risking your life, darling,” Nia heard Astarion say as he sat next to her. “It’s unnecessary.” She’d been staring at the campfire, deep in thought, before he joined her. She was still shocked after the events of the day.

Nia brushed aside the tension in his voice. “When have I ever done that?”

Her companion gave her a look. “The bard, the Loviathar priest, the harpies, the tadpole, every single time you try to play hero, or whenever you think there’s treasure in caves, chests or bookshelves. I’m the rogue, my sweet, you don’t need to be the one opening them. Let me do it for you.”

She gave him a small smile. It wasn’t every day that Astarion seemed to care about her. “Thank you for earlier,” she said, thumbs fiddling. “I’m not sure I would’ve been able to stop Volo.”

“We already knew it’d be unlikely to work, well, if we are to believe the druid. I’m still not sure we can trust him, but, as a healer, he ought to know more than a mere bard,” Astarion replied. “You shouldn’t have accepted at all. We need you in one piece.” Though his tone was jesting, Nia knew he was being serious.

She sighed. “I’m willing to take even the smallest of chances if it means finding a cure soon.”

The results of today filled her with shame. She had convinced the whole group, as their leader, to infiltrate the goblin camp and save Halsin, all in their search for a cure despite the fact the Dream Visitor had already told them nothing would work. Even though she was aware it’d be dangerous, she’d dismissed their concerns ─Astarion’s included─ and she’d dragged them into this mission hoping it meant they’d be one step closer to removing the parasites and avoid sprouting tentacles from their faces. But no. It’d been two steps forward, one step back. They weren’t any closer to finding a cure than they were before. They had leads. They always had leads, yet no solutions. It was another failure in her hero repertoire. Nia was not cut out to be their leader, she’d come to accept. The stress of it all was beginning to take its toll on her.

She couldn’t be their hero.

Not like he could’ve been.

As she spiralled, Astarion grabbed her shoulders. “If you keep this up, you’re going to die before we’re close to finding a cure.”

Her throat dried. “Maybe…maybe my sacrifice will be worth it,” she joked, attempting to ease the mood.

Her companion did not laugh. His lips didn’t even curl up. “I assure you it won’t.”

Nia had hardly seen Astarion this serious. Only when he spoke about his past did his voice adopt a softer lull to it. Even so, here he was, his deep eyes boring into hers, tension oozing from his body.

She licked her lips. “I’ll try to be more careful in the future.”

He scoffed. “I guess trying is all you can promise me, but I’ll take it. We can’t take any risks tomorrow. They know we freed the druid by now.” He dropped his hands from her shoulders and crossed them.

Nia looked at the forest, a gentle breeze tussling her hair. “I’ll need you tomorrow,” she told him, her eyes finding his. “By my side,” she added.

That wry smile she’d come to like was present once more on his face. “Of course, darling, where else would I be if not right next to you?”

“I’m serious, Astarion. I don’t trust anyone else with my life.”

His eyes became wider for a fraction of a second. She observed in silence as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “O…of course, Nia. I’ll have your back the entire time.”

She smiled at the use of her name. He hardly called her anything but pet names. A warmth made its way inside her, twisting around her heart. She reached for him, her fingers brushing his, tentatively. “And I yours.”

He covered her hand with his. The action was unexpected. She gasped as he just nodded at her. “So, what’s the plan?” He squeezed her hand.

Nia squeezed back. “We need to be clever about it. If we try for a direct approach, we’ll probably end up dying. No, we need to think about this. We need to be… conniving. And that’s why I need my rogue right next to me.”

“It couldn’t be any other way, my dear. This is where I excel at.”

She smiled at him. Yes. He was perfect for this fight.

“Brunhilde believes just the four of us should go,” she added after a few minutes of silence.

Astarion didn’t reply right away. He stared at her as if he could read her mind. “And what do you think?”

Nia rubbed her temples. Her companions always wanted to know her thoughts on everything, as if she was the most capable in the party to make decisions. Somehow, though, when it was Astarion who asked, she didn’t feel as if he’d put all his hopes and expectations on her shoulders.

“I’d feel better if the rest were on standby at the outskirts of the temple,” she answered. “That way if worst comes to worst, they can lead the attack. Brunhilde met with that drow earlier. They’re looking for the location of the grove. We need a group at the ready to protect the druids and the tieflings, we owe them that much after all their help.”

“I think you have it backwards, my dear. They owe us, and they’ll owe us even more after tomorrow.” He sighed. “But I’ll follow through all your orders if I must.”

“That’s all I ask. That you trust me.”

“With my life, darling. With my life.”

Nia intertwined their fingers, her cheeks turning pink. They gazed at each other for a long while. Not for the first time, she wondered if her companion would finally kiss her. There had been many times she’d thought he would. When they sat side by side just like this, when he touched her and brought her close to his chest, when he was busy biting her neck. She’d often believed she’d pull away if he ever tried to. But not anymore. As she looked deep into his burgundy eyes, she knew she’d lost this game already.

“Nia, where are you?”

They were interrupted by Brunhilde’s voice. Their hands instantly separated as if they’d been burnt.

“Duty calls,” Astarion set and motioned his head towards the half-orc.

Disappointment made its way into her heart, but Nia dispelled those thoughts from her head. If they survived, she knew she’d have to face whatever this was.

“I’ll see you before I go to sleep.”

“I shall be waiting, darling.”

With one last smile, she went to her second in command. They had a battle to win.

Chapter Text

“Remind me again, why are we doing this?” Astarion complained as they hid in a corner. His voice was just loud enough for the other three to hear him.

“Because the priestess, for some reason, trusts her,” Lae’zel replied, pointing towards their leader. The githyanki had less patience today. Her posture, Nia noted, was too straight. She’d been bothered about something ever since they left camp.

Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to look directly at Nia. “You do know that going in by yourself is foolish, don’t you, dear?”

She felt the beginning of a headache coming. “What can I do? She told me to visit her alone,” Nia replied in a half-hearted attempt to appease her companion. She didn’t wish to argue today of all days.

“I just don’t see why I can’t come with you,” he said. He sounded particularly offended about it, as if the thought of leaving her alone was preposterous. In any other situation, the thought would’ve made her smile. But today it was imperative that Astarion kept his disapproval to himself. There was no space or time for inner fighting in their party of four.

“The priestess must let her guard down for this plan to work. It won’t if you’re there with me. I need you to sneak in from the other side,” the leader explained as best as she could.

Astarion merely sighed in exasperation. “Fine,” he drawled the word out in dramatic fashion as he crossed his arms. “But know I deeply disapprove.” He raised his head then; his nose wrinkled in clear disgust for the plan. He looked like a spoiled cat, Nia thought, quite amused by it.

“Don’t you always?” She said with a cheeky smirk.

The rogue glared at her after that. “Only because you cannot stop yourself from acting so idiotic.”

Yes, this wasn’t her finest moment, Nia thought. However, other than a full-blown attack, she didn’t see how they were supposed to pull this off. Halsin had been clear. They needed to get rid of all three leaders if they wanted his help to reach Moonrise Towers, and if they wanted to save the Emerald Grove. Priestess Gut was the first on the list. They had met her previously, in the giant throne. For some reason, the woman had taken a liking to Nia upon their meeting. She’d offered her the Brand of the Absolute, which the wizard had politely declined. Later, she’d let the goblin priestess probe her mind. It was then she’d noticed something was amiss with the elf.

“Let’s deal with this in my chapel,” she had said. “It’s private. Don’t want this lot interfering with True Soul business.”

Nia had had no intention of ever being alone with her. However, the interaction had given Brunhilde an idea. She could meet with the priestess, distract her, giving the others enough time to make their way into her chambers undetected. And then, with their back to them, they would kill her in cold blood. Nia had accepted knowing the risks. Astarion had immediately poked holes in the plan.

“What if you get poisoned?”

“I have potions with me for that sort of thing.”

“What if she incapacitates you?”

“You’ll be there in the room soon. Four against one is hardly a problem.”

“What if she calls guards?”

“Then the plan is over, and we’re fucked either way.”

Thankfully, Wyll, Shadowheart, Gale and Karlach would be waiting on the outskirts of the goblin camp just in case. The moment they saw funny business, they were prepared to attack from the other side.

The rogue hadn’t been convinced when he heard the plan back at camp, but he’d begrudgingly accepted.

“Astarion, we need you to focus,” Brunhilde had admonished him. “I need you to open the backdoor that leads to the chapel, unnoticed. Lae’zel and I will guard your back. All this needs to be done when Nia’s already inside.”

“If something bad happens, then it’s on you,” he’d firmly told the half-orc.

Not that anything more could be done about it. They were already there.

Nia took deep breaths and squared her shoulders. As she did, she felt something prodding her mind. She opened it, feeling Astarion entering. If something happens, reach me through here and I’ll come. She let their connection become inundated with feelings of gratitude for the rogue. She felt acceptance in return, the connection vanishing as she reached the door. She went in, trying to appear as unbothered as she could muster. When she opened the door, she found that the priestess was already waiting for her.

“Ready to clear your head?” Gut said.

Nia nodded. “But first, what exactly are you going to do?” She asked. She needed to keep her talking. To give the others enough time to get into the room.

“Whatever the Absolute tells me to,” the priestess answered with a shrug. Well, that wasn’t comforting in the least. As if sensing her hesitance, she added, “Don’t worry. She loves you. I can tell.”

“Alright,” the wizard replied. “I’m ready.” Even while away, she could distinctly feel Astarion’s glare of disapproval. Funny that he was another presence invading her mind at any given moment, sharing space with the parasite. Nia didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing.

“Smart,” the goblin priestess complimented her. “All you need to do is open yourself to the Absolute, and I’ll do the rest.”

It sounded so simple, and yet Nia knew this was the riskier part. If Gut dug too deep into her mind, she’d see their entire plan. “Then let’s start,” the wizard said, gathering her wits. Her palms felt sweaty, and her heart pounded inside her. Focus, she admonished herself. She needed to be ready for any eventuality.

“Yes, yes, but we don’t want anyone peeping on private matters, so…” the goblin used her magic to close the door, trapping Nia inside the chapel. She hoped Astarion and the rest had taken their cue that it was time to enact their part of the plan.

“There we go,” Priestess Gut continued saying. “Secret and safe. Well…secret.”

Nia’s blood ran cold at those words. “Let’s hope it’s safe too,” she joked as an unsettling feeling wrapped itself around her heart. She’d never been great at lying, had the priestess already seen through her?

Gut did not answer. Instead, she used her own tadpole against Nia. Her psionic feelers crept across her mind. Shit. That wasn’t good. Ignoring all her instincts, she let the goblin rummage through her memories. The wizard felt it there. Gut saw as the mind flayer in the ship held a wriggling tadpole to her eye. Suddenly, the vision lurched, and Nia saw the tadpole squirming in the goblin’s own skull.

“Hells,” the priestess cursed. “We need to fish that thing out before it eats any important parts of your brain.”

Too late, Nia thought. She’d already consumed a second tadpole, its power growing inside her. Perhaps she could use it against Gut, however, the leader also knew that she couldn’t stray from the plan if she didn’t want to put her companions in danger. Speaking of which, where were they? From the corner of her eye, she tried to spy if she could see them. They were either too well-hidden or still not in the room, for she didn’t see them at all. She needed to keep going.

“Then get it out of me,” Nia said, gesturing towards her head.

“Don’t you worry. I’ve got everything I need to fix you. Might get a bit messy though.”

Oh no. That sounded awful. “What exactly does your plan involve?” She asked, rambling at this point. Anything to keep this priestess distracted.

“It involves you putting your trust in the Absolute. Simple.”

Right. It was so simple. Nia felt sweat drops falling from her forehead. “I’m ready,” she muttered, her palms forming into fists.

“You won’t regret this.”

Oh, she was regretting it already.

“Being a True Soul, you know the Absolute don’t like to touch nothing unclean,” she added. “So, drink this,” she said, showing Nia a blue flask. “It’ll purify ya.”

The wizard immediately took note of the tell-tale flecks of werejackal blood. This was no purification elixir. This was a sleeping potion. Nia felt her lips curling in a smile. The priestess was a moron. She had to know that, as a high elf, she was immune to this sort of thing. Poison would have worked better on her. Nia made a show of reaching slowly to the flask, but before she could take it, a dagger pressed itself onto Gut’s throat.

“I don’t think so,” Astarion said, grabbing the goblin from behind. She opened her mouth to scream, but the rogue shushed her. “If one sound leaves your lips, I will kill you on the spot.”

He was enjoying this. Nia could see it in his eyes. They had a maniac glint to them. He’d take his time, no doubt. Torturing the priestess until nothing was left of her.

Gut cursed at him. “You treacherous worm,” she told Nia. “And here I was trying to help you.”

“You weren’t trying to help,” she retorted. “That’s a sleeping potion.”

The priestess looked befuddled. “If you knew what it was, why did you try to drink it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m a high elf. These potions have no effect on me.”

Gut swore. “You’ll pay for this.”

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Now, is this how someone on the verge of being killed should be acting? Shouldn’t you be begging me for mercy?”

“I’ll never beg for mercy from the likes of you,” she spat.

Gut once more opened her mouth to scream when an arrow impacted straight into her forehead, killing her instantly. Brunhilde and Lae’zel emerged from the shadows shortly after, the half-orc pulling her bow away.

“Stop dilly-dallying,” Lae’zel told Astarion.

The vampire dropped the body on the ground. “Aw, you three never let me have any fun.”

“There’ll be more fun later,” Nia said. “We’re still missing two more.”

She stared at the body, blood poured out from the wound. She couldn’t believe it’d been so easy. She had a feeling the rest wouldn’t work out as perfectly.

“Let’s go,” Brunhilde said as she ushered them through the back door. Nia cast a quick spell on the front door, locking it with magic. She’d like to see how long it took the goblins to figure out why they couldn’t open the door to the chapel. She hoped it took them hours from now.

“You weren’t going to drink that potion, were you?” Astarion whispered in her ear as they exited. His body was rigid, and he was frowning.

“I’m not that dumb,” Nia said. “I was just stalling to give you time. It wouldn’t have done anything to me either way. I’m immune, remember?” He gave her a look she couldn’t quite identify. “What?”

“I just wouldn’t put it past you to drink unknown potions, that’s all,” he admonished her with a mocking tone.

“I’m way over those days,” Nia said, smiling at his confused expression. “What? I was young and stupid at one point in my life.”

He snorted. “Guess you can’t take the curiosity out of the wizard.”

“No, you can’t.” They shared a wry smile after that.

They soon fell into step behind Lae’zel and Brunhilde, their fingertips barely touching as they walked. There was a pull there, Nia could feel it. A force as powerful as a witch bolt that made her want to entwine her fingers with Astarion. She wanted to. Gods, she wished to. Yet the wizard knew she couldn’t. Not right now anyway.

There were two more to go.

“Are we sure we even want to do this?” Astarion said before they reached the throne room.

“I trust Brunhilde’s plan,” Nia replied.

“Right,” he said. “I think this might be our worst idea yet. Can you even distract him?”

“I’ll try.”

Astarion, in truth, wasn’t wrong. She knew this. They should have gone and looked for Minthara. Surely, they could kill the drow without anyone finding out and leave just like they had done with the priestess. But Brunhilde, for some odd reason, had refused. Even Lae’zel did not see this coming. Nia didn’t understand. She tried to pry the information from her friend using the tadpole, which had only made things worse.

“I never thought you’d use the parasite against me,” the half-orc had said, voice dripping with venom.

“I just don’t understand,” Nia had replied. “It’d be easier to leave the hobgoblin for last.”

“You don’t need to understand,” she’d said, in a tone that left no room for questions. “You only need to trust me.” She’d cowered under her for the first time. Brunhilde was vicious when angry.

Astarion, on the other, hadn’t been frightened from that display of intimidation. He’d scoffed instead. “Lae’zel, don’t you have anything to say?”

The warrior had hesitated. “Tas’ki, Brunhilde, if this plan fails, I’m going to hunt you down for all eternity.”

Her second in command had glared at them as a response and off they went, no more questions asked. Nia would have to trust that her friend knew what she was doing. They, then, separated. Brunhilde and Lae’zel to their positions, while Nia and Astarion entered the throne room.

The wizard tried not to look up. She knew that Brunhilde and Lae’zel were hiding somewhere in the shadows. She couldn’t see them from her position at the entrance, though. This was a departure from the original plan. Astarion was supposed to have joined Brunhilde. However, he had refused.

“You’re not suggesting Lae’zel will hang back and keep Nia safe,” he’d said. “That’s my job, for today at least.”

She couldn’t lie, his words had made pixies swarm in her belly. He’d been particularly soft with her during the last two days, so unlike himself. It couldn’t be any good, she knew. Her vampire friend was, without a shadow of a doubt, planning something. Whatever it was could wait one more day. For now, she’d enjoy the attention.

Brunhilde, for her part, had only sighed, aware that it was futile to argue with their resident rogue. If there was one thing they knew for sure was that Astarion would do as he pleased, no matter what. Nia couldn’t fault him, though. After two centuries of slavery, he had a right to decide for himself, for better or for worse.

So, now, here they were. Watching as Dror Ragzlin stared at the corpse of an illithid. There were too many questions going through the wizard’s mind, some that perhaps would be answered soon. She took, instead, the time to observe her enemy. The hobgoblin was a tall and muscular man, with a severe look on his face. One hit from him, and you’d be on the floor, seeing stars.

“This place is filled with kinky freaks,” Astarion muttered next to her. A commentary on Dror Ragzlin’s chosen clothes: leather straps and a loincloth.

“I would’ve thought you’d enjoy that sort of thing,” she said, glancing at her companion from the corner of her eye.

“Depends on the person. But you just know what they’d do to me if they knew I was a vampire.” He shivered.

Nia frowned at that. There had been times that Astarion had alluded to being scared of others inflicting sexual violence on him. She was aware these were not unfounded fears, given the fact he was a vampire spawn. It was not uncommon for some people, freaks as he had called them, to be interested in vampires, seeing them as just objects for sexual gratification of fantasies. She wondered then if Astarion had experience with those sorts of people. She almost asked, but she didn’t want to press for answers. Not today and not right now. She reached out and brushed her fingers against his palm instead. “You won’t ever need to find out,” she promised him, attempting to comfort him.

Her companion was about to add more when they were interrupted by the hobgoblin chanting. Nia recognised the spell in an instant. Ragzlin was casting Speak with Dead on the body of the mind flayer. Her whole focus turned on him, dread making her tremble with fear.

“I command you, corpse,” the hobgoblin said. “Speak! Reveal truth to the Absolute!”

“This can’t be any good,” Astarion said through gritted teeth. Nia was inclined to agree.

Fortunately, the spell failed and the illithid did not stir from its slumber.

“Nothing. Must be reading it wrong!” He tried again and, once more, he got the same results. Nothing. Without a scroll or an amulet, it’d be quite difficult for him to accomplish this, Nia knew. Only an expert necromancer could perform this spell.

Suddenly, the hobgoblin turned to look at her, the parasite squirming in her skull at the intrusion. Nia flinched, rubbing at her temples. It was painful most times when the worms connected. Visions filled her mind fast, of Dror Ragzlin bowing before an armoured elf she’d glimpsed before. This elf spoke of the hunt of a great weapon, and the reward that’d be given to whoever found it first. It was a rather enticing offer for the hobgoblin. That’s what he was truly after. The wizard pondered on whatever this weapon could be, and if it could be used against her and her companions.

“If it isn’t another True Soul,” he said. The man went quiet, his next words spoken through their tadpole connection, You ever talk to a dead squid? Now’s your chance. He motioned to the corpse at his feet.

Well, Nia supposed this would be a good way to keep the hobgoblin distracted, giving Lae’zel and Brunhilde enough time to enact their attack. The wizard came forward and studied the body, brows furrowed. Thankfully, this wasn’t the same mind flayer who’d tortured her on the ship. Nonetheless, she felt the slight suspicion that this illithid could’ve roamed the nautiloid too.

“Absolute says the dead squiddie had a weapon,” Dror Ragzlin said. “I reckon the killer nabbed it and scooted off to that looter camp.” So that’s what they wanted with the Emerald Grove, she thought. “We find who killed it, and we find who took that weapon. So, settle in.”

Nia felt an uneasiness creeping inside her. She had a feeling she knew what that weapon was. What were the chances it was the artefact that she was, in fact, carrying in her bag in this very moment? A cold chill spread through her. No. She couldn’t allow them to discover that the weapon they sought after was within their grasp. But she needed to be smart about it, to avoid raising suspicion. Brunhilde and Lae’zel would soon take advantage of the ceremony. All Nia needed to do was play along. She smiled at the hobgoblin and let the ceremony proceed.

He tried again and recited the incantation. “I command you, corpse. Speak and say sooth.”

This time, the spell worked. Magic invaded the body of the mind flayer, making its eyes glow green. It rose up in the air, the hideous tentacles writhing. Nia felt disgust and an ounce of hatred at seeing it. She shook her head, dispelling such thoughts. Now, it was the time to act. She couldn’t let the corpse identify her as having been on the ship. Decided, she dug into the hobgoblin’s mind, resolute on taking control of this interrogation. Ragzlin’s weak mind reeled under the prodding, and then it calmed, relinquishing all command to Nia.

“Who is the Absolute?” Dror Ragzlin asked under Nia’s influence. She could tell he was confused. This wasn’t what he wanted to ask. But he didn’t get the time to question it, as the creature spoke to him, using visions. Curved drow blades, crude goblin torches, gnoll teeth dripping blood. Other mind flayers sitting in a circle. It was absolute unity. Absolute power. Nia felt herself become nauseous at the thought.

“Damn it,” the hobgoblin cursed. “That tells me nothing!” Nia inwardly grimaced. He was becoming suspicious. Better ask something else. “What were you doing in Faerûn?” More visions came through. Githyanki dragon riders with their blades held high. The control panels melting, flesh-pods spilt open. It was the inside of the nautiloid. “Gith on the haunt,” Ragzlin said. “They know something.”

The hobgoblin’s mind became restless. Nia knew she had one last query left before everything went down in flames. She needed to know why Lae’zel’s kin were after the ship.

“Why were the gith chasing that ship?” More images came through. Dark tunnels lit by noxious pools of brine. Darkness spreading through the earth. The sky splitting open, nautiloids pouring out of a void which consumed the stars. A horrifying sight indeed. “What the…?” It was too late. The spell had run out. The illithid corpse collapsed on the floor, silent once more.

“No, no! I’m not done!” Dror Ragzlin exclaimed. “Riddles, all of it. And nothing to show for the trouble but rotting squid meat. No answers. No killers. And no damned weapon!” Nia felt relieved. Their secret was safe. And, looking up, she realised this little encounter would be over soon.

“It looked like a low-level illithid,” she replied. “It most likely didn’t know a thing.”

“You might be onto something,” the hobgoblin said. “And as it turns out, the damned drow was right. Can’t let her get all the glory,” he grumbled. “Seems I ain’t done with you. Report to the drow. Minthara’s the name.” Oh, it appeared that Ragzlin didn’t know anything about this place. They’d met her before. Not that Nia would ever share that information with him. “She’s mounting an attack on that blasted grove. Tell her you’ll join her.”

She smiled politely at him. “Consider it done.” Astarion raised his eyebrows at her, but he followed, silent as a shadow.

“Praise the Absolute,” the hobgoblin said, turning his back to Nia.

That was his fatal mistake.

The wizard took Astarion’s arm and made him walk towards the door. She used the tadpole to show him her plan. He smirked at her. Instead of leaving, Nia closed the doors and locked them with magic. She cast a silencer spell without anyone noticing. Before anyone could react, an arrow was shot from the ceiling. It landed on the gunpowder barrels Lae’zel had placed undetected close to Dror Ragzlin.

“What in the hells?”

Everything exploded, killing the goblins which were the closest to the throne room. Brunhilde shot the remaining ones from up high, while Lae’zel made quick work of the ones that were closest to her. Astarion jumped at the first opportunity to kill some which were headed towards the door. Nia, meanwhile, kept her spells in check. Making sure no one could go in. Or out.

Soon, it was over, the mighty Dror Ragzlin lay next to the illithid corpse, burnt to a crisp. No one had heard a thing.

Nia sighed in relief.

Only the drow remained now.

They were told Minthara could be found somewhere in the Shattered Sanctum. That was the best news they had gotten all day. It was secluded enough, they wouldn’t need to worry about anyone hearing the attack. Honestly, it was a miracle itself how absolutely no guards had detained them for an interrogation with Halsin gone. In fact, it was strange how no one had noticed two out of their three leaders had been killed. Their defences were severely lacking for a camp of the Absolute. Fortunate for Nia’s party but mindboggling all the same. Were they that sure no one would be able to raid their camp? That kind of confidence had been their demise so far. Nia just hoped it would remain the same for a few more hours.

However, she knew that Minthara wasn’t someone you could underestimate. The paladin was the most capable leader in the entire camp. She seemed ruthless and sly. Not someone you would want as your enemy. Which was why Nia was stunned by Brunhilde’s request.

“What did you say?” She whispered as to not attract unwanted attention.

“Leave Minthara to me,” her friend repeated. “You and Astarion can defeat any goblins coming our way, and Lae’zel will watch my back. I can take the drow alone.”

Though Brunhilde was strong and more than adept enough to mercilessly kill most enemies, a paladin wasn’t the kind of foe you could get rid of easily. Then, there was the issue that Minthara looked like the one that called the shots at camp, more so than Dror Ragzlin or Priestess Gut at least. She was always surrounded by goblins, her underlings most likely. If they were to kill her, they needed to confront her together, or at least in pairs.

Suspicion seeped inside her. Something was off. Brunhilde’s decisions so far hadn’t added up. Nia frowned. “She’s more than capable of killing you.”

“Believe me, I know her kind,” she said. “And I know how to best her.”

Lae’zel looked equally as astounded by her lover’s plan. “I’m inclined to agree with Nia. If we cannot sneak up on her, two against one seems like a better bet.”

“No,” the half-orc said. “If worst comes to worst, I’ll handle her. You three handle the goblins.”

With that, she left, Lae’zel trailing after her. Nia stood behind for a moment, her hands trembling as her mind tried to make sense of this turn of events.

“You don’t trust her, do you?” Astarion said next to her. He appeared to be unbothered, merely looking at his nails. She knew better.

“It’s not about trust, it’s about the plan,” she answered, her voice as contained as she could manage.

“It’s the same thing. If you don’t trust the plan, it’s because you don’t trust our dear Brunhilde.” Nia didn’t have a response for that. “Not that I blame you. There’s something rotten about this whole ordeal.”

“So, you feel it too?”

“Well, of course, darling. I’m not one to follow orders blindly. I can tell when I’m being played.”

Bile rose in her throat. A dangerous thought settled in the pit of her stomach.

“You do know you hold the real power, right?” Her companion whispered in her ear. “All of us, except Lae’zel, follow you, not Brunhilde. And despite all the detours you take to help others, you’ve never led us astray.”

She swallowed. “What are you trying to say?”

“That if push comes to shove, we’ll have your back.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m not going to k-kill Brunhilde. She’s my friend!”

He looked unimpressed. “All I’m saying is that, if you don’t agree with this plan, just say the word and we’ll do something about it. Do you want the drow dead? I can kill her for you.”

Nia felt like she was playing with fire. She considered her options. Minthara needed to be killed. That much she knew. A stealth manoeuvre would be the better option, though she doubted it’d work as well this time around. An actual fight might be the only solution. Though she couldn’t let her second in command do all the work. Brunhilde might have been the strongest, but Lae’zel and Astarion were just as capable. It didn’t make any sense to her that the half-orc wanted to land the killing blow herself. Could it be that Brunhilde had ulterior motives? Nia did not want to find out if that were the case.

“If it comes to that, I’ll hold you to your word,” she said at last.

Astarion grinned at her, eyes gleaming dangerously. “Just nod at me and I’ll kill her, whatever Brunhilde thinks about it be damned.”

She sighed. “For now, let’s go. They surely noticed our absence by now.”

“We can always tell them we were busy snogging in a corner. All this adrenaline gets the blood boiling, you know,” his flirty persona was back, winking at her.

Nia almost felt relieved at the normalcy of his actions. “If we keep stalling, it’ll be Brunhilde and Lae’zel who we find mid-fuck against a wall,” she said as she walked, not even sparing him a second glance.

The rogue laughed, eyes closing and chest heaving. It was one of his rare honest laughs. “Now, why would you put that image in my mind, my dear?”

“Because I know for a fact battles put Lae’zel in the mood.”

He laughed again. “Oh, do make haste, darling, I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

With Astarion sufficiently distracted, they followed the rest of the party to Minthara’s War Room in the Shattered Sanctum. If Brunhilde had any questions about why they’d taken so long, she didn’t voice them. They concealed themselves as they analysed the situation. A wooden bridge separated them from the rocky formation where Minthara was. The area was being patrolled by a scrying eye and various sentinels. Past the bridge, there were some war drums to alert the rest to intruders. They would have to take care of those first before more goblins came rushing in from the only entrance. There was nowhere else to run or hide. They would need to use the space to their advantage.

Minthara’s voice echoed as she talked to her underlings. It was apparent they were deep in council. From what Nia could hear, they were almost ready to attack the grove. She swallowed hard. There was no more hesitating. They couldn’t afford more distractions. This needed to end here and now.

“I’ll be the bait this time,” Brunhilde whispered. “Take care of the scrying eye while I speak to Minthara. Then, the real fight will begin.”

Nia nodded, while feeling Astarion’s deep gaze on her back. “I’ll demolish the bridge too. Anything to keep them away from us.”

“Yes, do that.”

“And Astarion can destroy the war drums,” she added.

“If I must,” was his reply.

“Then, let’s do it.”

Brunhilde walked with confidence, greeting a sentinel as she made her way to the bridge. Lae’zel followed her, her face betraying nothing. Nia and Astarion watched as they crossed the bridge. Meanwhile, Nia observed the scrying eye closely. It was imperative she get rid of that thing before anything else could happen. She waited until it flew close to the corner where she hid, and then she used the shatter spell on it, blowing it up into smithereens.

“We have to do something about the sentinel,” she muttered to Astarion.

“It shall be as easy as stealing from a babe,” he said with a smirk.

The rogue got in position. Using his stealth skills, he positioned himself behind the lone sentinel by the bridge. Daggers in hand, he quickly slit the goblin’s throat, letting her body fall into the chasm without a peep, the rest being none the wiser of her fate. He, then, hid behind an abandoned bookshelf and motioned for her to join him. Nia did as she was told, making sure she was not seen. She was clumsy at best, narrowly missing tripping on a pebble, but she did it. Astarion received her with an amused smile.

“I was worried you’d get us found out,” he whispered.

Nia felt herself blush in embarrassment. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Remind me to teach you how to sneak around later,” he said, that easy smile still present on his lips.

“Something to look forward to if we survive,” she replied with a smile of her own.

“When, darling. Not if. Be more confident. I’m here by your side, after all. And there’s no way we’re going to fail.”

As in cue, Minthara’s voice rose up, calling for the guards around them. Whatever Brunhilde had told her had been the wrong thing to say and the fight had started. Nia cursed, she almost rushed to her friends, when Astarion grabbed her arm. She opened her mouth to question him, when he pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head. He gestured towards what looked like steps, past the bridge. It was a great place to get the high ground. They could lead their attack from there. In silence, the two moved and crossed the bridge, witnessing as Lae’zel charged with all her might, goblins falling as they met her blade. Meanwhile, Brunhilde and Minthara fought ferociously, the drow’s sword clashing with the half-orc’s mace. This would soon turn into bloodshed.

Once on the steps, Nia didn’t waste time. A few goblins ran to the bridge, intent on alerting the whole camp. They didn’t get the chance to do so. The wizard cast a fire bolt, setting the bridge and the goblins on it on fire. They fell to their deaths with a screech. A Cloud of Daggers was conjured next, blocking their path. This provoked the goblins’ ire. Three of them escaped from Lae’zel and moved to attack Nia. She didn’t let them get close. Her spells hit them one by one, making them fall back.

One brave goblin climbed a rock formation, attempting to play the war drums to summon the whole camp.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Astarion exclaimed before shooting arrows at the drums, destroying them in an instant. Next, he killed the goblin with another arrow, his body slumping on the rocks.

The rogue and the wizard fought relentlessly. The first fired arrows, while the second protected him with her spells. One goblin got too close to them, and Astarion jumped, daggers out to kill him. Lae’zel grabbed at the goblins which surrounded her, throwing them on the ground, and impaling them with her sword. Behind her, Brunhilde and Minthara were locked in an intense battle. Only the strongest would survive this meeting of brute strength and skills.

Suddenly, more goblins appeared. They’d been hiding about behind the rocks. Uncaring of the harm done to them, they crossed Nia’s Cloud of Daggers without a second thought. Half of them attacked Lae’zel, while the rest threw acid on both Nia and Astarion.

“This better come off my clothes,” the vampire complained, his daggers stabbing a goblin.

“We’ve better things to worry about,” she retorted, brows furrowed in worry as more goblins approached them. She cast Shocking Grasp on a goblin who’d managed to climb the steps and tried to grab her. The goblin tumbled down, knocking another one to the ground. They lay in an undignified lump of limbs.

Nia and Astarion continued their onslaught. Soon more goblins crossed over, bringing acid with them. Astarion cursed loudly. Next thing Nia knew, he took her arm and made her jump down. He pushed her against the adjacent wall, his arms caging her head, as his chest pressed flushed against hers. Nia’s heart stopped. Her companion was covered in acid, goblin blood, and who knows what else, and yet he looked absolutely stunning. Her mouth went dry. She shook her head, trying to dispel such unbecoming thoughts. Take your mind out of the gutter, she told herself, you’re in the middle of a fight. But all attempts at any rationality vanished in an instant when Astarion looked down at her, eyes impossibly dark and lustful. She swallowed hard. His face inched closer to hers until they were but a breath away. If she leant forward, her lips would meet his. It was too tempting. Fuck it. Nia was seconds away from closing her eyes when she saw a new goblin drawing nearer, weapon raised to Astarion’s unguarded back. The wizard acted on instinct. She fired Magic Missiles, all landing on the attacker who died as a result. Her companion pushed himself away from her, a smug look on his face.

“Well, it seems we need to focus, darling.” That was all he said before jumping back into the fray, fangs bared. He bit one goblin, blood spluttering everywhere. He made a face. “Ugh, I’m going to need a palate cleanser after this,” he told her, gesturing with his eyebrows.

Nia felt her face burning. She did her best to ignore his meaning. “Kill those goblins and you’ll get your prize.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will.”

For whatever reason, her words encouraged him to fight more strenuously. He smirked, daggers ablaze, as he stabbed their enemies. His palpable enjoyment should have worried her if she hadn’t been so busy keeping most of the goblins at bay. When she’d almost run out of spells, Nia grabbed her sword and, chanting her Bladesong, she joined Astarion in the pit, pushing her back against his as she started parrying attacks.

“You know, when you said we would have each other’s backs, I didn’t think you meant it quite so literally,” he said jokingly.

“Just be thankful your back’s not open now,” she said as she slayed another goblin.

As they lay waste to the last of them, they saw Lae’zel impaling one last one before joining Brunhilde in her attacks against Minthara. The githyanki wasn’t following the scope of Brunhilde’s plan. Not that Nia could complain. Her second in command faltered and would’ve been killed by the drow paladin if it wasn’t for Lae’zel. The warrior fought with fury, giving her lover enough time to bounce back and rejoin her. Between the two skilled fighters, they pushed Minthara to the ground. She dropped her weapon at the exact same moment Astarion killed the last goblin. Brunhilde didn’t waste time. Using her mace, she hit Minthara with all her might, the last one of the leaders of the goblin camp falling immobile.

The four stood there for a few seconds in silence, the only sound that could be heard was their panting. Then, the half-orc grabbed Minthara’s sword. “Let’s go,” Nia suddenly ordered. They couldn’t afford to waste more time here, lest they were to be discovered. She ushered them to the exit. She spared the drow’s body one last glance before darting away. Her Cloud of Daggers dispersed. They used the edge of the rocks to cross through without the bridge. Astarion sneaked them out, choosing the least crowded passages and halls to walk in until they were safely out.

“Well, that was an experience,” he commented. The dying rays of the sun made his skin glow.

Brunhilde stopped walking and faced her. “Nia, I’m so sorry for my actions, I…” she trailed off.

She waved her off. “I am sorry for not trusting you when you’re much experienced in battle than I am. It all worked out for the best. We… we did it,” she said with elation.

“Of course we did, my dear. We had me on the team. We weren’t about to fail.”

Lae’zel scoffed. “Now we need to make sure the druid fulfils his part of the deal.”

Yes, that was right.

“Tomorrow we’ll deal with that. For now, let’s return to camp. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m due for a nice bath in the lake.”

“Hear, hear, darling.”

Chapter Text

Their plan had succeeded. The goblins had finally been defeated after a harrowing battle. The gods had at last bestowed their blessings upon Astarion, and for that he was grateful. They’d returned to camp victorious; the grove would be safe and there would be less Absolute cultists getting on their way. They were finally on the right track to find a cure for their little parasite problem. Although, that would have to wait for later. For now, Astarion had other matters to attend to, he thought as he observed Nia cleaning the blood and muck from her face.

Their little game of flirtations had gone on for far too long for his tastes. In times past, he would have already had her by now. But, hells be damned, he’d wanted to play it slow. To get to know her. To have her interested without having touched her at all. And by the looks she threw his way, he knew he had her ─or at least that is what he hoped. It was time to strike and let her know he’d been serious the whole time.

They were back in camp, dressing their injuries. Soon they would go to the Emerald Grove and share the good news with the tieflings. But not right now. Tomorrow, Nia had said. Astarion couldn’t complain. They were tired and needed their rest. Underneath all exhaustion, however, he detected a hint of victory in all his companions. Even Lae’zel seemed to be smiling, or as close to smiling as she could muster anyway. And Nia, she was positively radiant. The elven maiden looked relieved that the goblin nightmare was over. For reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend, she had made it her mission to rid the tieflings of the goblin menace, and after finally succeeding, she glowed in exhilaration. It was cause for celebration, Astarion was sure. And what better way of celebrating than in his arms.

However, he wouldn’t go to her.

Oh no.

He’d let her come to him. Innocently walking right into the trap he had painstakingly laid for her in the course of weeks.

He needn’t wait long.

Once her face and hair were as clean as they could possibly be, Astarion watched her walk around camp, talking to the rest of their companions, who had waited for them on the outskirts of the ruined temple. Brunhilde and Nia went about relating the events of the day as best as they could. Volo claimed he would write them a song. Gale tripped all over his words while trying to congratulate Nia, in such a way it made Astarion snort. Wyll was better at it, offering his sincere congratulations. Karlach hooted and asked them to take her on the next adventure. Shadowheart wondered what would happen next in their journey. Even Scratch seemed aware of the excitement of the evening, barking and waggling his tail, as he followed Nia all through camp.

Once everyone was up to date, their two leaders parted. The latter walking over to Lae’zels tent. Astarion wondered what was to come of… whatever was going on with both green women. It intrigued him if Lae’zel had fashioned a similar plan to his. His thoughts, however, were interrupted as Nia sauntered up to him.

Astarion couldn’t stop the smirk that formed on his face as she smiled at him. Her cheeks were still flushed from all the adrenaline, and her amethyst eyes shone under the setting sun. What was better was that she did look genuinely excited to talk to him.

“Astarion,” she greeted. She sounded a little breathless still.

The events of the past few days circled through his mind. Her back pressed against his chest. Holding her hand in front of the campfire after saving her from the bard. Their almost kiss in the middle of the battle. Even before that, her awkwardness around him, her blushing cheeks, the sharp scent of her arousal. All little steps that had led them to this very moment. He wondered if she was thinking about them too. If they haunted her every waking hour.

“Darling, I was just thinking about you,” he greeted her. His voice had as much sincerity as he could manage, as it was the truth after all. His fists clenched and unclenched. He was so close he could taste her.

“Oh,” she mumbled, cheeks turning redder. “Really?” She evened out her voice, but Astarion was aware his words had an effect on her. They’d been dancing around each other for some time, but after everything they’d gone through, her walls had crumbled one after the other. “Whatever were you thinking of?” She bit her lip. “All nice thoughts I hope.”

“But of course, my dear.” Astarion itched to grab her and seal the deal. However, he reigned his impulses in. He would finally charm her trousers off with all his charisma. Two centuries of the same game would not go to waste. “I was remembering our time together,” he began saying, eyes half-lidded, lips curled in a tantalizing smile, “the things we’ve shared! And I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours,” he said, pointing towards her neck.

Nia’s fingers brushed the place where he’d marked her a few days ago. Her mind probably going back to that moment, when she had feigned being asleep as he crept towards her bedroll.

“We’ve been through a lot together I suppose,” she said. She licked her lips, an unconscious action perhaps, one that spoke volumes.

“That we have. I’m growing to like the whole package, honestly.” His voice turned sultry, as he sent a smouldering look her way. She perked up, unintentionally it appeared, because she tried to control her facial expression back into a deadpan. She was unsuccessful. This was his moment, Astarion knew. The moment to throw the bait, as it were. “And you clearly like me too, so…” he said, softer this time, letting his words wander in the air.

Nia’s eyebrows furrowed. She opened her mouth to speak only to close it. She seemed to be thinking about her answer. Playing hard to get as usual. Yet Astarion was not afraid. She was going to relent eventually.

“So?” She finally managed to say, voice a tad higher than it normally was, the tips of her ears turning pink.

“Come now, don’t be coy,” he said playfully, walking towards her until their chests were almost touching. “Your body’s already given you away.” His voice became sultrier as his eyes stared directly into hers. Nia’s flush extended past her cheeks, to her neck and further down. “I could feel it as I was getting lost in your neck. Your little shakes of excitement.” She looked at him, transfixed, as he finished his little speech. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

Nia audibly gulped. The truth was written all over her face. They both knew she had moaned his name as his fangs had sunk into her skin that night a few days ago.

“A lady never tells,” she said with a terse smile, her breasts rising and falling as she controlled her voice.

Astarion tsked, ready to tease her, to tell her he knew more than he let on. But he decided he’d be merciful this one time. She wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. “You don’t have to say a thing,” he started, “I already know how you feel.” She raised an eyebrow at that. “Because I feel it too.”

She gasped, her heart hammering in her ribcage. “You do?” She blurted out. Her voice came out small, practically a whisper, yet he heard her, loud and clear. “I mean,” she coughed, “you like me?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Of course I do. Why would I lie to you, my dear?” The rogue said, his voice tender, as he brushed his fingers against her pink cheeks.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Nia questioned as she took a step back. She fiddled with her fingers, avoiding his intense gaze.

“Why, indeed,” he said, walking closer to her once more until they were mere inches apart. “Hasn’t the thought ever crossed your mind that I would want to be alone with you?”

She looked into his eyes, possibly trying to detect hints of a lie, but she would find none in them. “I thought you were just playing,” she answered at last.

Astarion feigned a shocked expression. “Playing with you? Darling, I’m hurt. Is it that difficult to believe I’d genuinely like you? I know my heart’s dead but I’m not completely heartless, you know? I do still have desires, and you feature in a lot of them,” he said, eyes roaming all over her figure. Gods, he couldn’t wait to see the curves she hid underneath those robes.

Nia clenched her fists. Then, she sighed. “Okay, then, what do you have in mind?” She said, at long last, succumbing to the basic instincts he’d been playing with all this time.

Astarion reeled in his smile. “We could take an evening to ourselves. Get away from camp. Get some privacy.” Far away from their obnoxious and noisy companions. Where he could have Nia all to himself. She bit her lip as she heard him. “I know somewhere quiet,” he whispered, “Somewhere intimate. Somewhere we can…indulge in each other.”

Her eyes rounded doe-like when she understood his meaning. He heard her heart skip a beat. She considered his words for a moment before speaking. “A less trusting person might think this all sounds very suspicious,” she managed to say.

He almost pouted, yet decided to laugh, waving her off. “Thank goodness we’re all such good, trusting, friends then.”

“Are we now?”

“Of course,” he said. “On my honour, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust. A fun time if you will.”

She analysed his every gesture. “And only that?”

“Yes.” It was what she wanted after all. No love. Just sex. He could give her that. “I swear.”

“That…,” she started saying. Astarion looked at her in expectation. “Sounds pretty good to me.” The words came out as a whisper, and unsure, but she’d said them.

They stared at each other. Unmoving.

Oh.

His heart could have stopped there if it wasn’t already dead.

He finally had her.

“Wonderful!” Astarion couldn’t stop the smile that flourished on his face. Nia gave him a shy smile in return, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just hope we don’t have to wait too long before we can steal away.” He pouted, eyes boring into hers, daring her to suddenly suggest going on another quest. “But once we can, I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

He smelt her arousal just after those words left his lips. His mouth went dry from the smell. He usually detested smelling it on his victims, but hers was sweet and inviting.

Nia cleared her throat. “I think we can take a few days off,” she said, playing with the strings of her shirt. She tried to appear normal. It wasn’t working. “We deserve it after everything that’s happened.” She trailed off, uncertain.

He smiled. “Excellent. See you there, lover.”

She flushed even further after she heard his new pet name for her.

“Yes,” she said, voice the highest he had heard from her, “I’ll uh, I guess I’ll see you around.”

And with that, she scampered off.

Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

Oh, the fun they were going to have.

His plan was working with absolute perfection.

If there was a sinking feeling in his stomach, he ignored it.

Victory was close.

Brunhilde’s laughter made Nia feel even more mortified. The half-orc grabbed her belly as fat tears rolled down her face. Nia had never seen her ever-stoic friend this expressive before. She was already regretting having shared the contents of her conversation with Astarion with her, but who else could she have, realistically, told? Things were still a tad awkward with Shadowheart, and Nia didn’t think the cleric would appreciate hearing stories about her latest conquest. Karlach seemed safe enough, though she had the feeling the tiefling would let her little secret spill. Wyll and Gale were out of the question. And Lae’zel… well, they were barely cordial to each other and Nia didn’t think she gave a damn about her love life. No, Brunhilde was the best option, despite any ensuing thorny feelings from their disagreements in the battle. All’s well that ends well and all that, why would she be hung up about it still.

Besides, the two often shared secrets with one another, their bond the closest in the camp. Brunhilde had, after all, confided in her about her trysts with Lae’zel, so Nia had presumed she could do the same.

“Oh, keep laughing, will you?”

“I’m sorry,” Brunhilde said, still chuckling, “it’s just, why are you so surprised?” She removed the last few tears from her eyes. “The man’s been flirting with you since he met you.”

“He’s flirted with everybody in camp, yourself included.” Nia crossed her arms, annoyed and a great deal embarrassed.

“Yes, well, you’re the only one he’s actually pursued. He can’t keep his hands off you. Quite literally. I thought for sure I’d find you two fucking earlier today instead of killing some goblins.”

Nia groaned. “That’s the problem.”

“Why would that be a problem?” Brunhilde had sobered up. “I thought you had a… sweet spot for him. You’ve flirted back with him all this time.”

“I just thought that was his way of communicating. He doesn’t like to talk much about himself, so he hides under the pretence of flirtation. I was simply using his own language. Meeting him where he’s comfortable.”

The half-orc put a hand on her shoulder. “But he’s been opening up to you, has he not? You seem like the only one he trusts.”

Nia thought about it. She supposed Astarion had actually borne his soul to her on quite a few occasions. And he had heard her in return. Her small panic attack before the raid an example of that. “I guess… but I just never… I never thought he was serious when he called me his ‘favourite traveling companion’ or his other pet names. I thought he was just jesting.”

“Oh sure, he was just jesting when he held you tight and his teeth sank deep in your neck,” Brunhilde said with humour in her voice.

The wizard sighed. “I thought he believed I was the easiest prey.”

“Oh, you are.” Nia scoffed, feeling offended. “You’re the only one who’s not immune to his, er, charms.”

She all but whined.

It was the truth.

Every flirty word, every teasing touch had led her down this path, weakening her to the point where she couldn’t say no to Astarion anymore.

“Come on,” Brunhilde said, “you like him, fess up. We all know. We’ve known for a while.”

Nia looked at her friend, horrified. “All of you?! Even Wyll and Gale?”

“Perhaps Gale’s still unaware about where your affections lie.”

She slapped a hand to her forehead. It was bad enough that she’d made a fool of herself in front of Astarion for days now but knowing that all her companions knew was just the cherry on top. She cursed the gods above for her misfortune.

“Who says I like him?” She grumbled, denying everything as a force of habit, more to herself than to Brunhilde.

Her friend gave her, her best no-nonsense look. “You. A few minutes ago. When you agreed to spending an evening with Astarion. Alone.”

“Must be the tadpole. It’s making me lose my mind.”

“Or you’re truly attracted to him. It’s okay to admit it.”

Nia gnawed at her lip as she digested her friend’s words. Of course, Brunhilde was right. She always was. Yet Nia hesitated. It was true that in the passing weeks the annoying weakness for Astarion she had developed had only grown stronger the more time they spent together, coming to a head a few hours ago, as they fought side by side, goblin blood covering them. He’d pushed her against a wall, shielding her from an oncoming onslaught of acid. They stared at each other, then. Orbiting closer and closer as she just couldn’t stop looking at his handsome face. The moment had been interrupted by a goblin about to attack them. It didn’t matter, though. The damage was done. She barely had managed to continue casting spells, her knees trembling as all she’d wanted to do was kiss him senseless right then and there.

This, whatever it was, frightened her. She did not want anything serious; she kept telling herself. After her past experiences in the love department, she knew she wasn’t adept at it. She was well aware she only brought pain to her lovers, who always craved more from her than she was willing to give. It was why she had refused anyone who asked in the last five years. These were all little reminders she kept giving herself since her revelation the other day. However, they had failed her the moment the rogue had, at last, seriously propositioned her. Astarion hadn’t been playing. He indeed wanted to have sex with her. And it was time to admit she was feeble to his advances.

On the other hand, she supposed Astarion did not want anything more than a night together. In theory, she could handle just that. There was no risk of hurting him if he didn’t want anything more. Though she did not understand why he wanted her in the first place. Perhaps he was bored. Perhaps he was horny. Or a traitorous part of herself hoped that he’d been honest, and he actually liked her, carnally at least.

She sighed. “Do you think he meant it?”

Brunhilde hesitated before speaking. “I think there’s just one way for you to find out.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

Nia played with the hem of her shirt. Her mind idly wondered what it would feel like if Astarion took it off. She groaned again. She swore if the vampire had been just teasing her, she would ram a stake to his ribs herself.

Chapter Text

Astarion had attended more lavish parties before. They certainly had included far better wine than whatever the hells they had served him, he mused with annoyance as he took another sip of the bottle in his hand. The vampire lamented his sour mood. In other times, he would’ve been the life of the party, showing those tieflings how to truly let loose. His tongue would’ve already been deep inside someone’s throat by this point. Alas, he felt devoid of any enjoyment and the only one he wanted to kiss was making merry with everyone but him.

Nia had been avoiding him all day. Again. He thought he’d finally had her after their little conversation, but it seemed she was full of surprises. Still, not everything was lost, as every time their eyes met, her pointy ears twitched and she blushed the most alluring shade of pink. It suited her, her cheeks now matching the pink tips of her hair. Astarion had surmised the little wizard was embarrassed. Perhaps she had assumed nothing would ever come to be of their flirtatious exchanges. The pretty fool she was. Surely, she must have known he wasn’t working overtime for nothing. Of course he wanted her. Yet, she held back for whatever reason. It was infuriating. However, she couldn’t avoid him forever. Sooner or later, she would fall into his arms, and then she wouldn’t be able to escape.

So, he watched as she waltzed around camp, willing her to come.

First, she and Brunhilde graciously welcomed all the refugees to camp, who did not waste any time getting drunk. They set up tables with goblets and alcohol. Music began playing and several couples started dancing in what Astarion could only assume were traditional tiefling dances. Meanwhile, the two leaders toasted for a job well-done with Zevlor, who laughed and laughed with them. The man was already inebriated, and it hadn’t even been an hour yet. He didn’t miss the way the older man’s eyes roamed at Nia’s figure. The pervert, Astarion grumbled in his mind. The tiefling was truly delusional if he thought Nia would ever give him the time of day. Thankfully, the exchange didn’t last long, and the two leaders left to circle around the party and greet more guests.

To Astarion’s misfortune, once they were finally free of Zevlor, Volo came along. The bard took out a scrap of parchment and a quill, prattling on about writing a song about their feats. The half-orc expressed distaste at having a song written about her, but Astarion could see that Nia’s eyes twinkled in excitement at the prospect of Volo baptizing her with a new title, fit for all the things she would accomplish. Even Nia wasn’t immune to petty vanities, he’d come to find out. She was more like him than he’d like to admit. A treacherous part of himself whispered it made her more likely to understand him, but he quickly shut it up.

With the bard gone with promises of having more ideas for Nia’s new title, the two walked towards Halsin. Astarion had no doubt they wanted to know what would come next, as the druid had promised to explain himself just after they had defeated the goblins. Honestly, he didn’t know why Halsin was being so mysterious. It didn’t sit well with him. It made him think the man was concealing something from them. A shame if that were the case, after the whole party had fought hard to free him and destroy the goblins, Astarion would be sorry to have to kill him if his intentions were untrue.

“Go on,” he heard Halsin tell the two leaders, tuning into their conversation, “there are many grateful people here who want to spend time with both of you. I must not keep you all to myself, as enjoyable as that may be.” The last part was clearly meant for Nia alone, as their eyes locked. The wizard gave him a shy smile, before walking away.

Astarion couldn’t help the grumble he let out. How dare that druid attempt to destroy what had taken him several weeks of flirting in one single night. He was glad to see Nia go and head towards Alfira instead, with whom she laughed as the drunk tiefling attempted to play a song. For all her mistakes and missed notes, Alfira was better than Volo on any day. The tune was unidentifiable for Astarion, who wasn’t sure what was fashionable these days. Something about a mermaid and a sailor, nothing particularly groundbreaking.

Nia’s eyes sparkled when she heard it, undoubtedly recognising it. She took Brunhilde’s hands and led her into a terrible demonstration of dancing, a far cry from the elven dances no doubt Nia must have learnt in her childhood. As they jumped and skipped around, Astarion snorted. His little wizard hadn’t even had a single taste of alcohol, and yet she was already making a fool of herself. This night would surely be entertaining. He just hoped it would end with Nia writhing underneath him and not under someone else. And, hells below, were his companions eager for that to happen.

After their impromptu dancing, the leaders of the makeshift group split up, and went to opposite sides of camp, Brunhilde heading to Lae’zel’s tent ─unsurprisingly─ and Nia to Karlach’s. Their second in command would stay in the gith’s tent for hours. They were bold for enjoying the festivities in such a way, though Nia had told him battles, allegedly, put the githyanki in the mood. Any other day, Astarion might have attempted to peek into the tent, however, he had barely escaped with his life yesterday, he didn’t want to press his luck.

For their part, nothing romantic was going on with the other two women. Karlach and Nia excitedly talked outside the tiefling’s tent while they sipped wine. The two had become quite close as of recent, so Astarion wasn’t surprised Nia wanted to talk to her first. What did surprise him was that Karlach had made no attempts to woo her. He had an inkling the barbarian harboured a crush on their leader, though nothing had come of it. He got his answer when Karlach turned to give him a suspicious grin.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He heard Nia ask, making Karlach turn back to look at her.

“Fuck yes! I’m celebrating my freedom,” she said, extending her arms, “and our friendship. And these folks’ bright future besides.”

Astarion rolled his eyes at that. He wasn’t sure the other tieflings had a bright future waiting for them at Baldur’s Gate of all places. A long time ago, he might have said the great city was the land of opportunity, but now… He drank more of the awful wine.

“All I need now is a fire-retardant lover to get lost in ‘til sunrise,” Karlach added, earning a sympathetic smile from Nia.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to find a solution to your problem,” Nia said, almost touching Karlach’s fiery shoulder.

“Ah, yes, but in the meantime, I’ll have to make do with what I’ve got.”

At least Astarion could rest assured Karlach wouldn’t interfere tonight. Nia was many things, but fire-resistant was not one.

“Enjoy yourself tonight, Karlach.”

“You too, soldier. You’ve earned it,” she said. “And I’m sure you’ll find someone adequate to spend the night with.” The barbarian wiggled her eyebrows making Nia flush.

“Goodnight,” she said pointedly before scurrying away. Karlach gave Astarion one last look, tilting her goblet towards him. He motioned with his bottle in the same manner, sharing a knowing grin with Karlach. Well, at least one of their companions was on his side.

With that, his eyes followed Nia’s silhouette as she walked around camp until she reached Shadowheart’s tent. Things between both women were almost back to normal. Almost. Although Shadowheart appeared to have gotten over Nia’s rejection, Astarion was sure it still stung. The cleric seemed prideful, and there was nothing more mortifying than getting turned down by a beautiful woman. Although sometimes a pair of pretty eyes was all it took to make one’s pride relent. He wouldn’t put it past Shadowheart, like many others before her, to try again, particularly with wine involved. And she was already drinking.

“Everyone seems to be in high spirits,” the follower of Shar said, raising her goblet.

“Good to see that includes you,” Nia answered, sitting down next to Shadowheart. They shared a few smiles after that. Then, they continued observing the tieflings having fun. One tripped and fell flat on his face after trying to woo a lovely tiefling man.

“Strange… you know who I never thought I’d find myself caring for?” After a few minutes in amicable silence, Shadowheart said.

Me, is what Astarion would have answered. Perhaps it was just him, but it felt as if the cleric was fishing for such an answer. An opening, so to speak.

Yet, Nia didn’t bite.

“Refugees?” She answered instead.

“Exactly right,” Shadowheart was such a liar, Astarion mused, “never gave them much thought. Certainly not that bunch in the grove. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.”

He knew what Shadowheart was implying. In the past, he wouldn’t have lifted a single finger to help any of them. Wouldn’t have cared whether they lived or died. It was peculiar, to say the least, how their basic instincts of selfishness and self-preservation became non-existent thanks to Nia and her penchant for helping every single individual she encountered.

“Not so odd. We did the right thing,” Nia said, shrugging her shoulders and smiling softly at the tieflings who greeted them as they passed them by.

“That’s more easily said by some than others,” the self-deprecation was thick in her words, “but nobody’s here to debate right from wrong.”

“Perhaps we should just take this moment to relish in our victory,” Nia supplied.

“How humble of you,” Shadowheart remarked earning a laugh from her companion.

Astarion thanked the heavens for that. He did not care about philosophy or ethics, and certainly, he didn’t care about Shadowheart’s opinions on the matter either. He rubbed his temples, his pointed ears still picking bits and pieces of their conversation.

“I thought you might’ve wanted to mingle with the others,” Shadowheart suddenly blurted out. She looked surprised, maybe unsure of Nia’s intentions after her rejection the other night.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Nia said in jest.

“No. But I thought you’d like to enjoy yourself. There are some individuals that would surely love to have your company tonight,” she said, giving the elf a poignant look. Before the wizard could add anything more, she continued. “Go on. Enjoy the party, have some wine. I’ll see you later.”

With that, Nia waved Shadowheart goodbye and Astarion sighed in relief. One less companion to worry about… though, some of the toughest competitors were left.

“Where’s Wyll?” Nia asked Brunhilde, both glancing around.

Astarion frowned. In all the excitement of the evening, he hadn’t noticed the Blade slipping away, even with his unnatural hearing. He watched as Nia looked around until she finally walked towards the lake. The vampire had half a mind to follow her, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. That wouldn’t be a good look for him. No. He’d stay put and wait for her. As it turned out, it took longer than expected. It unsettled him. Astarion felt his stomach drop. What could the two possibly be doing by themselves? His mind supplied several scenarios. He was about to go searching for her, when he saw Nia returning to camp. Their eyes met and she smiled shyly at him. Despite the darkness of the night, he could see the faint traces of a blush. Adorable, he thought, as he gave her a sultry smile. She started heading his way when Gale, of all people, interrupted her path.

Astarion held back a groan.

“Beautiful night, don’t you think?” He greeted Nia, who stopped dead on her tracks.

“I guess,” she answered, raising an eyebrow at Gale.

“Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.”

Both turned to look at the night sky.

“The stars do look more beautiful here than back in Baldur’s Gate,” Nia said with a light smile.

Unbeknownst to her, Gale gazed at her like a lovesick puppy. It made Astarion groan loudly this time. A few tieflings, the ones that had managed to stay sober, sent him looks but he glared at them, urging them to leave him alone.

“It’s a view I would once have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry. She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting in the firelight,” Gale said, morose.

“Mystra?” The name of the goddess slipped from Nia’s lips and Astarion tuned back into the conversation. He would be the first to admit he was curious about Gale’s trysts with a literal goddess, especially after he’d avoided answering his questions that other time. The vampire still didn’t believe the babbling wizard had managed to seduce such a being. And yet, oddest things had happened in Faerûn.

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose, no!” Gale shook his head, “I speak of Tara, my tressym.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Astarion muttered under his breath before chugging more wine.

Well now all enthusiasm he might have felt about this conversation had died a resounding death. Gale’s presence was even more of a nuisance than before. If he wasn’t going to be entertaining, the least he could do was set Nia free so she could finally, finally, seek Astarion out and let herself be seduced, damn it all.

“You remind me of her somewhat.”

Astarion spluttered his wine.

Had Gale actually thought it would a good idea to compare Nia, the woman he’d been pining for, to his literal cat?

Oh. He had nothing to worry about.

Astarion laughed to himself.

“Besides, she was always telling me I needed to spread my wings, so to speak. Find mortal friends, instead of hanging onto Mystra’s coattails. So that’s what I’m doing. I hope.”

“Bad luck on that front, I’m actually a nymph in disguise.”

Nia’s words gave Astarion pause. He recognised her teasing. He had been in Gale’s position before. Had heard a similar lull in her voice. Had been under her amused stare. Had seen her pink lips, curling into that smirk. She was flirting.

With Gale.

Astarion froze.

No.

It couldn’t be.

She was giving Gale an opening after having rejected the man’s advances previously. Though she had done so in such a roundabout way, Astarion was sure the wizard hadn’t realised he’d been spurned. He’d be a fool now to ignore her flirting. He half expected the wizard to wax poetic about how Nia was even more beautiful than Mystra herself, that he almost dropped his bottle when he heard Gale’s next words.

“Ha,” the wizard laughed, “very funny. But as we all know, nymphs are sticklers when it comes to their bathing routines. You, my friend, haven’t been near a fresh spring in a tenday or more.”

Astarion was so flabbergasted he wouldn’t have noticed if a minotaur stomped on him.

Was Gale really that stupid or was he giving Nia a taste of her own medicine for turning him down a few weeks before?

“Not that I don’t appreciate your… musk. I actually rather like it.”

He was really that stupid.

Nia’s expression was priceless. A perfect mixture between insulted and disgusted that had Astarion snickering. Whatever opportunities his wizard companion may have had with Nia, they had flown out the window and crashed straight into the moon. The idea of Gale of all people wooing a goddess seemed rather unlikely now given what Astarion had just witnessed. It was far more probable that the goddess, for some demented reason, had used him for other purposes and pretended to be wooed. Whatever the case, he now knew Gale’s lack of charm wouldn’t work on Nia. She wanted to be seduced. Desired. Won over like the sweetest prize in the entirety of Faerûn. And Gale was not the man for that.

Astarion was.

“Well, this seems as good a time as any for me to stop babbling on.”

Thank Mystra for that, Astarion thought. Gale needed to learn when to shut up.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Nia said, making Astarion grin, “you’re a wonderful friend.” That must have hurt to hear. “Though usually more… erudite.”

The two bid each other farewell, with Gale urging Nia to enjoy the rest of the party. Oh, she was sure to enjoy it if Astarion had any say in the matter. With that, Nia at last made her way towards him. Astarion schooled his expression, it wouldn’t do if she found him grinning like an idiot. He couldn’t quite tell her he’d enjoyed how she’d turned down Gale yet again, after all. She stopped first to pat the mutt on the head, and then, she was standing a few inches away from him.

“Astarion,” she greeted him, eyes sparkling in the light of the bonfire. She always looked beautiful under the sunlight, but there was something about seeing her under the moonlight that made her look ethereal.

“Well, hello, darling. Fancy seeing you here,” he joked, moving his arms around. Her whole face lit up at seeing him.

She chuckled. “Hope you’re enjoying the party.” She glanced at the bottle in his hand.

No, not really, he wanted to say. It was such a bore. Besides waiting for her, there was nothing else he looked forward to. The wine was stale. The company left a lot to be desired. And all the hailing and appreciation made his chest clench painfully. You don’t deserve any of it, a voice in his mind said and Astarion agreed.

“Oh, you’re not having any fun, are you?” she said, matter-of-factly, reading him like an open book.

He hated how Nia could be so damned perceptive at times. On the other hand, there was something about her, perhaps her soft voice, that always had him disclosing his thoughts to her.

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero,” he said as a reply, looking at the bottle still in his hand. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He took a sip of the wine. It made him gag. “I hate it. This is awful.”

Nia smiled at him, a sadness in her eyes that quickly dissolved as fast as it’d come. Then, she grinned at him mischievously.

“Really? Saving lives is awful?” She asked with a hint of irony.

“We killed some goblins to save some tieflings. The tally of lives didn’t change much,” he said. And killed they had. He’d been right by her side, as they protected Brunhiled and Lae’zel from the incoming horde. The two drenched in acid and muck and goblin blood. “But what do I get for all my hard work?” He mused, “A pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” He blew a raspberry.

“May I?” Nia asked, hand reaching towards his bottle.

“By all means,” he said.

She grabbed the bottle in her delicate hand and took a swig of the wine. Astarion watched as Nia made a face.

“See what I mean? Awful.”

“It’s too dry for me,” she said, “I prefer them sweet.”

How ironic, given her own blood tasted like the sweetest of wines.

Astarion sighed. “All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

“And what’s your idea of ‘a little fun’?” Nia asked him, mirth in her eyes as she took another sip of his wine.

Oh, she was challenging him. It seemed she had stopped running away from him and his advances. But she must have known what he meant. She’d used those same words before.

“By the hells,” Astarion laughed, “sex, my dear. A night of passion.” His voice became quieter, almost a whisper, for her ears only.

Her cheeks flushed and not because of the wine. It was the first time he had used those words to describe what he wanted. He’d let it as a double entendre before, but he’d realized he needed to spell it out for her, to make it clear what his intentions were.

She gulped audibly. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course! That’d make me very happy.”

Nia regarded him then with close attention, her eyes going from his eyes to his lips and downwards.

“It’s the moment we’ve been waiting for,” he added, alluding to their conversation from the day before. “Let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.” He smiled at her, charming, like an elven prince from the stories she most likely grew up reading.

She nodded at him, dazed and red. She seemed to mull over his words for a second, eyeing him with slight distrust, trying to see if he was lying. She wouldn’t be able to find any lies in his eyes, for it was the mere truth, secret intentions notwithstanding.

“Alright,” she said at last, voice raspy, “let’s do it.”

It took every ounce of willpower to stop himself from grinning at her. He, instead, gave her another one of his soft smiles, the one he’d been told made maidens weak in the knees.

“Perfect. There’s a nice clearing in the woods where I’m sure we shan’t be disturbed.”

“Ah… okay, I’ll see you there then.”

“Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.”

Nia smiled coquettishly at him and turned around to leave, hips swaying, tauntingly, on purpose. He chuckled.

At the last minute, she turned around. “Thank you for having my back, yesterday. I wouldn’t have been able to fight without you,” she said, looking straight at him.

Her words stopped him dead on his tracks. “You don’t need to thank me for anything, darling. It was my pleasure.”

Her blinding smile scorched him. She, then, left to join the others, laughing and talking with all their guests. Bile rose at the knowledge of what he was about to do. To her. To him. It didn’t matter Cazador was miles away. He was still a slave to his instincts. At the very least, his mind supplied as he calmed down, this time he’d chosen his partner for his own purposes. And she’d be safe come morning. Alive and pleasured beyond her wildest fantasies. Yes. It wasn’t the same as before.

Astarion shook his head at the half empty bottle of wine in distaste. He couldn’t wait for this party to be over.

Chapter Text

Nia looked at her tiefling guests as they laughed and sang around the fire. There was a heat in her loins which didn’t come from her still full goblet. Her eyes darted to Astarion’s tent. The vampire was sitting on his stool, reading one of his books, or at least attempting to. She briefly wondered if he was reading the sequel of Tangled Love. He pretended not to notice her staring. He’d been ignoring her all night after their conversation had ended, no doubt toying with her. Making her wait until the end of the evening. She could’ve growled in annoyance. She didn’t, though. Her mind was still fuzzy, thoughts running wild. Had she just accepted a night of passion with Astarion again?

Yes, her treacherous heart told her, and if it’d had eyes, it would’ve rolled them at her. Nia felt like a nitwit, getting all worked up like a blushing maiden. She’d had sex before. Many times. In her almost sixty years of life, she’d taken her fair share of lovers. For one night. For months. Some encounters had been incredible, worthy of swooning over and remembering on lonely nights. Others had been short and unfulfilling. There’d been more mediocre ones and those she wished she could forget. She’d bedded humans, other elves, half-elves, halflings, tieflings, even an orc once. Men and women and those who were neither. Never a vampire, though.

She’d had no action in recent years either. Not even a kiss. Nia couldn’t pretend she was saving herself for love of all things. It wasn’t possible for her to feel that sort of attachment anymore. It was gone along those brown eyes. She sniffled and cursed herself for getting sentimental. There were some things best left forgotten, especially tonight.

She wiped her nose and stood up, eyes locking with Alfira, who waved her over. The bard was already drunk out of her mind.

“Nia!” She exclaimed upon seeing her. “Your song is ready!” The tiefling loudly proclaimed. “And I want you to listen to it!”

In that very moment, Brunhilde left Lae’zel’s tent and joined them. She looked dishevelled but satisfied. “What’s this about a song?”

“Apparently one about all our deeds at the goblin camp,” Nia answered, grinning at her friend. Well, she’d had her fun before the party was even halfway through.

Brunhilde chuckled, unaware of her intense staring. “Let’s hear it, then.”

The song, as it were, left a lot to be desired. The wine had its effects on Alfira, making her slur her words and have a hiccup fit in the middle of it. Her normally melodious voice came out high-pitched and croaky at times. The lyrics, though, were definitely the worst part. Nia wasn’t particularly musically inclined, unlike her mother, but even she could tell the rhythm and metric were non-existent. The rhymes were wonky, and the words themselves bordered on ridiculous. Tales of them blowing up the camp, of her spells killing ten in one go, of Astarion and Lae’zel valiantly fighting off a horde of them, of Brunhilde giving Minthara the killing blow. She would give Alfira that the use of thunder was slightly true ─she’d used Shocking Grasp on a few goblins who tried to get too close to her.

Despite the less than stellar performance, Nia and Brunhilde clapped as Alfira sang. Then, they joined hands and danced like they had done at the very start of the party. The tieflings soon sang along, wine spilling as they moved their hands around to the rhythm of the song. The noise got Shadowheart and Karlach out of their tents. The tiefling joined her brethren in singing, while the cleric stole a bottle from Mol’s stash and downed it in one go. Nia kept dancing, laughing in Brunhilde’s arms, the two having more fun than expected. The wizard couldn’t remember the last time she’d even attended a party. She’d been mostly holed up in her office, either at home or at the academy, translating books and honing her magic for several years now. It seemed ironic that she would find this much entertainment while fighting for her life, when she hadn’t had any excitement back home. She decided right then she needed to live more. Her eyes found Astarion as Brunhilde made her spin. The same blinding heat as before spread from her heart to between her legs. Yes. She wouldn’t let more opportunities pass her by again. She didn’t know if she’d live another day after all, might as well enjoy everything while she still could.

Filled with resolve, Nia determined to have fun for the rest of the party. She mingled with the tieflings, careful not to drink too much; she wanted to be alert later in the night after all. It was nice to get to know the people they had just saved. They were grateful, shaking her hand as she greeted them like old friends. It made her feel proud. As if all the carnage, all the pain, had been worth it. Astarion might believe the tally of lives remained the same, and even though Nia wasn’t a god to decide who lived and who died, looking at the little ones running around, she knew she’d do it all over again to protect their future. The thought alone made her feel warm inside. Nia managed to get Shadowheart dancing with her. The two saw as Karlach and Dammon had a moment together, their shy glances made the other two giggle in delight. To Nia’s ever amusement, it’d been Gale of all people who began singing with Alfira, once he was deep in his cups. Even Lae’zel came out of her tent, watching as Rolan set up a firework show. As the night went on, her companions got more and more inebriated, taking the time to dance and sing and truly loosen up.

Brunhilde and Nia stayed up until the last tiefling had gone back to the grove, many holding hands and ready for a night of debauchery. By this point, their companions had retired to their respective tents, no doubt going to nurse hangovers tomorrow. Nia briefly wondered if Wyll was still out brooding by the lake. Part of her wanted to reach out to him again, but she hesitated. It wasn’t her place to cheer him up if he wanted to be left alone. She just hoped he knew no one considered him a devil. He was still a hero in her eyes.

“Well, I’m beat,” Brunhilde suddenly said, stretching her back, “I’m going to head back to my tent. Have a pleasant rest of the night, Nia.”

“You too, Brunhilde. And thank you.”

“What for?” The half-orc asked.

“For staying up with me this late.”

“Don’t mention it. Couldn’t let you have all the fun, eh?”

Nia chuckled and waved her friend goodnight. She turned to her own tent but stopped. She’d almost forgotten there was someone waiting for her in the dark. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed Astarion was nowhere to be found. Feeling giddy like a schoolgirl, the leader looked around making sure her friends were all in their tents, before heading to the woods. She quickly found the clearing Astarion had mentioned earlier. It was far enough no one would be able to hear them. A bit of suspicion arose inside her, yet she decided the vampire had no reason to murder her. He’d had plenty of opportunities to do so if he’d wanted to.

The clearing was a sight during the day. Nia had been there before as she strolled the woods, looking for firewood. Now though, in the dark, its aura changed to one of mystery. Very reminiscent of the rogue who would be her companion for the remaining hours of the night. No sooner had Nia arrived, when she spotted Astarion emerging from behind the enormous trees. He was already there, waiting for her, shirtless no less. The light made his bare chest glow. Nia felt a rush of excitement when she saw him. This was happening, she thought with incredulity. After so long, she would have someone again. The elf walked towards him, her hips swaying from side to side. She met him just at the edge of the tree he was leaning on, flexing his muscles as he did so. She almost rolled her eyes. Almost. The image he made was delicious if corny. He knew what he was doing. She let her eyes roam over his body. He was slender but well-toned. His shoulders were broader than she’d expected. Her mind conjured images of being in his embrace, of being under him. Anticipation filled her. When she reached him, their eyes met and Astarion gave her a smouldering look, not unlike the ones she’d been under earlier, yet his gaze was more intense than before. He could’ve scorched her with the way he looked at her.

“There you are,” he said as way of greeting. “I’ve been waiting”, he added, taking steps to close the distance between them. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.” He stopped just in front of her. “Waiting to have you.”

His voice was smooth and soft, words precise. Like he’d spoken them many times before. Nia did not feel like she could believe him, particularly since their first meeting involved Astarion holding a dagger to her neck. Although she wouldn’t put it past him to think such dirty thoughts in a moment like that. Nonetheless, she’d lie if she said his words didn’t do it for her. It felt good, to be desired, even if there was a certain practiced pretence to it.

“You don’t have me yet,” she said playfully. She felt more in her element when she bantered with him, when their flirting was a game of sorts. She’d show him that she wasn’t that easy of a prey even if her body betrayed the attraction she felt for him.

“Don’t I?” He replied, his white eyebrows raising, sceptical. “You’re here. And I don’t think you want to talk.”

“Then what do you think I want?” Nia countered, pursing her lips.

“I think you want to be known. To be tasted.”

His voice was dark, sultry, like red velvet on her fingertips. She could feel her blood rushing to her face, heart hammering in her chest. She knew Astarion could hear it too, could see her reddening cheeks. Fully aware of the effect he had on her. Yet, part of her did not want to yield and succumb right away. She craved to know if this was mutual. If he hungered for her just as much, or if he felt he needed to use his silver tongue to entice her.

“And what do you want?” She pried, making sure to look him in the eye.

“What do any of us want?” He replied. “Pleasure,” he answered his own question, smirking at her. “Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

Nia narrowed her eyes at him, trying to see if he was truthful.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me.”

Well, fuck, she thought. Who was she kidding? She wanted him. Had thought about this moment before, in the privacy of her tent. Of his arms encircling her as those crimson eyes gazed at her with lust. Had envisioned it last time she’d had his fangs sinking on her neck while she pretended to sleep. How would it feel like, she had wondered, to be utterly devoured by this man?

Nia didn’t trust herself to speak, so she merely nodded, knees weak and hands trembling.

“I thought so.” His voice was but a whisper. Then he smiled at her. It was a sweet smile. One that had her wet all over. She hoped it was a real one.

“But,” she said, raising her hands before he could reach her. “I want you to enjoy it too. I want you to be just as lost in me.” She smiled shyly at him, offering her hand for him to take. She wished to show him that he wasn’t a thing to be used. That she genuinely wanted him to have fun in her company.

Astarion blinked at her, as if her words had stunned him. His shock quickly vanished, that dazzling smile from before making a comeback. He held her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Of course, my dear. How could I not enjoy myself with you? We’ll spend the rest of the night getting lost in each other, I promise.”

He suddenly took the last step forward, closing the gap between them. Their noses brushed. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her so close their chests touched. He grinned at her before finally kissing her. Nia’s eyes fell shut as she felt his lips on hers, her hands clutching his shoulders. All the pining and anticipation. The several almost kisses they had shared. All of it was worth it. The kiss was magical. Warmth exploded inside her. His lips were cold and yet so soft. Not like she’d thought. She’d envisioned them as either blazing hot or dead. Chapped even. But they were perfect. They fit perfectly against her own as she started kissing him back with want. Then, his tongue gently coaxed her mouth open. Nia granted him permission and let him explore her. She moaned as their tongues met. He tasted of the wine they’d had that evening with a hint of iron, most likely from the blood of an animal he’d consumed earlier. Not that she minded. It thrilled her even. To know she was kissing a vampire. She put her arms behind his neck, hands tenderly grabbing his head and pulling him closer. She played with his tendrils. She’d been dying to for a while now, ever since she’d helped him wash his hair. His curls were positively soft. How he’d managed that with the life he’d had was beyond her, not that she cared too much to ask in such a moment. She pulled at his hair earning an appreciative hum.

They parted after an eternity. Nia’s chest rose and fell as she heaved. If it weren’t for Astarion’s hands on her waist, she would’ve fallen to the ground. She opened her eyes, and she was rewarded with the sight of his ears faintly blushing under the moonlight. He wasn’t unaffected by her after all. A single kiss and he was like that. The thought filled her with pride. Her arms were still around his neck, so she attempted to pull him to her for another searing kiss, when he tutted.

“Ah, ah, ah. Impatient, are we?” Nia couldn’t stop herself from pouting. She dropped her arms from his neck and pulled away. He laughed. “Oh, don’t be like that, darling. It’s just I can’t help but notice that we’re in very unequal circumstances,” he said, gesturing to his lack of clothes.

Nia stared at his bare chest then. He was gorgeous. His body looked like marble. She gently traced the hard lines of his muscles, lightly thumbing his erect nipples. His skin was cool to the touch, yet it felt smooth. And so soft. She wanted to feel him against her. All of him.

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” He mumbled, his voice deeper than before. “But I also want to have some fun.”

Astarion’s fingers barely touched the front of her white blouse, his eyebrow arched, questioning, expectant. Nia shook, equal parts expectation and agitation. She bit her lips and nodded. With expert fingers, he pulled away the green laces of her shirt. Then she raised her arms, letting him pull the shirt off from her body. Soon, it got discarded, falling on the grass with a thud. She was left standing wearing her green stays. Astarion made a frustrated noise at seeing she wasn’t fully naked yet.

“Well, it appears I’ll have to unwrap you like a present,” his voice sounded dangerous as he spoke.

He reached out to her. Nia almost sighed. She let him play with the straps of her stays. She thought he’d pull them right off too, but then he grabbed her right breast. Her breath hitched. He moved his thumb in circles around her clothed nipple. It hardened in an instant. She granted him a small moan that made her feel embarrassed for a brief moment. He smirked at seeing her obvious want.

“Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” He muttered, grabbing her undergarment and almost ripping it off her.

Soon, she was bare from the waist up just for him. Nia felt herself flushing under his scrutiny. Her arms twitched, resisting the urge to cover herself. She was aware she was attractive by most people’s standards, but she was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. He looked at her as if he’d seen the sun for the first time.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.”

His mumbled reply hit her on her core before he could even touch her. He kissed her once more, hands exploring her body, moving from her waist up until he started circling her round breasts. Nia whined into his mouth, feeling heat everywhere his hands brushed at her despite his freezing skin. His touch set her ablaze in a way she’d never felt before. She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing her thighs at the same tempo he’d set, playing with her nipples. He wasn’t gentle but his roughness was just the right amount without being too painful for her to enjoy. She was dripping.

Astarion suddenly pulled away from her lips to regard her with lustful, half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

His lips traced a searing path from her lips to her right cheek, down her throat where he playfully nipped making her giggle, to her collarbone and finally to her right breast. He dropped down on his knees as he kneaded her. His tongue swirled around her a few times, and then began sucking on her, as if he were feeding from her. His right hand kept her upright, while his left one wasn’t idle, it continued to torturously pinch her nipple. Once her breast was wet and red from his ministrations, he switched sides. The noises she was making surprised her. Nia couldn’t remember if she’d ever been this loud or if anyone had ever given her breasts this much attention. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered but Astarion and that sinful tongue of his. She grabbed his head to keep herself grounded as he continued lapping. She felt him grow hard against her leg, making her shudder.

“Ah-Astarion!” She moaned to the night sky, unabashedly. His name on her lips seemed to spur him further, as he sucked on her with more vigour. Nia felt a familiar tightening in her loins. Shit, she thought, was he going to make her cum by playing with her breasts only? In a moment, she got her answer. She came undone against his lips, her undergarments becoming soaked.

Astarion pulled away from her, drool coating his lips, which he wiped with his arm as he stood back up.

“First one of the night,” he said, voice proud and cocky.

It sounded like a promise.

Nia whimpered, her mind conjuring what this encounter would bring if it had started this way. While she recovered her wits, her companion began unlacing her trousers with all the stealth of a rogue. He pulled them down past her knees, her ruined undergarments cooling under the night breeze. Then he touched her arse. A strangled sound escaped him. Her eyes widened, fearing he’d been bitten by a snake or something, but he looked at her as if he were truly seeing her for the first time.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been walking around camp with a bare arse this whole time,” he all but growled as he rubbed her cheek. Then, he lifted the flimsy fabric of her smallclothes, running a finger close to her crack.

Oh. He had noticed her thong.

She smirked at him. “All this time you could’ve had such easy access,” she whispered in his ear.

Astarion growled again and removed her underwear with a single tug. Nia laughed. She kicked off her boots and he helped her out of her trousers and smallclothes. She was finally fully nude in his presence. His lips crashed into hers again, as he brought her close to his chest. Nia closed her eyes, enjoying his messy kiss. She found one of his fangs, she ran her tongue on it, piercing it just enough for a droplet of blood to fall into his mouth. The vampire moaned and sucked on the blood until the wound was healed. Breaking from the kiss, he let his forehead fall against hers. A delicate finger trailed her skin, from in between her breasts till it reached her mound. Nia held her breath. He touched her from her clit to her slit, feeling her slick.

“So wet for me,” he mumbled, nose rubbing her cheek. “But we can do better, can’t we, my dear?” He whispered directly in her ear.

Nia nodded dumbly and, at long last, he touched her clit. She couldn’t stop her keening. Astarion didn’t even bother to silence her. He teased at her bundle of nerves with soft strokes. Too slow, too little to give her what she wanted. Just enough, though, to have her begging.

“Please,” she said. Her voice sounded so desperate Nia felt briefly ashamed. Her embarrassment was fleeting, though, as he put more pressure on her clit.

“What is it you want, my sweet? Use your words.”

“Please, harder,” she replied, burying her head in his shoulder.

She heard Astarion chuckling. “Your wish is my command.”

She got almost instantaneous results. His thumb pressed against her with force. Her knees buckled but his hand on her lower back kept her upright. She shuddered, mewling on his shoulder. Her hands grabbed his arms in an attempt to steady herself, nails digging at his skin, imprinting crescent moons on it.

“Oh shit,” she murmured when she noticed what she’d been doing. “Sorry.” She pulled back and rubbed on his flesh, the indentations she’d left vanishing in seconds.

He snickered. “Don’t apologise, let yourself go,” he said. His free arm pushed Nia’s head to his, smashing their lips together.

He distracted her with his tongue, his digits gently teasing at her opening. He slipped a finger inside of her. A strangled moan left her. It’d been far too long since someone else had touched her there. He made a come-hither gesture, his fingertip grazing that part of her which drove her wild. It was incredible he’d found it so fast. He was right. No man could hold a candle to him. He was a consecrated lover through and through.

“What an eager little cunt you have,” Astarion said against her lips. She felt as she squeezed his finger almost as in reply. “So ready to be filled with my cock. But I have to prepare you first.” He inserted a second finger and began scissoring her, stretching her walls for what would come later. 

Nia swore, her forehead falling onto his. She bucked her hips, the palm of his hand rubbing at her clit. The sensations were maddening. Astarion hadn’t even properly taken her yet, and he was proving himself to be the best lover she’d ever had. She felt herself suck at his fingers, clenching around them. She cried out as he managed to fit a third finger inside, his palm relentlessly rubbing at her. She pushed against him, moans stumbling from her lips without sound or reason. She focused on his half-lidded eyes, which were assessing her every move. Depending on her reactions, he would go faster or slow down. Hells, he was incredible. Nia kissed him, making him swallow all her whimpers. She couldn’t stop herself from touching his hair. Astarion was her lifeline. He kissed her back with the same intensity, his fingers pumping her harder and harder each time.

“Good girl, so sweet, dripping for me,” he said into her ear. Nia all but sobbed. She loved his praise, his dirty words. They made her want to tumble down from the precipice she was at. “Come now, darling, cum for me.”  He goaded her. He pressed kisses against the corner of her lips. “I know you can do it.”

He alternated between rubbing at her clit and burying his fingers in that pleasure spot inside her. It was too much. She shattered on his fingers, black spots surrounding her vision, his name on her lips. When she came to, Nia noticed she was a wreck, while Astarion still looked perfectly put together.

“I told you I was excellent at foreplay,” he said, proud of himself. She hummed in reply, a stupid grin on her face. She let her head collapse on his shoulder again as she basked in her afterglow. He pulled his fingers from inside her, the sound they made as they exited her was obscene. Nia whined, missing him already. Then, she watched as her paramour made a show of licking his fingers clean from her juices. He purred. “Had I known you were this delicious, I would’ve eaten you up. But I do think I can’t wait any longer.”

Anxiety filled Nia suddenly. It had been so long since she’d had done this with anyone. She wasn’t sure if she knew how to do this anymore. She didn’t want to be an immobile fish. She wanted to be a lover Astarion could enjoy. And if they only had this one night, she wanted it to be memorable for him too. Nia wanted to be someone he’d remember years after this.  

“W-wait,” she stammered. That gave him pause. “Le-let me touch you first,” she said, hands following down his navel until they landed on his trousers. He looked at her as if she’d grown two heads, but then, he let her gently pull his clothes down, revealing his cock still wrapped around his blue underpants. Her finger traced its outline. His manhood sprung to life as he hissed. Curious, she pulled his blue undergarments down, revealing himself to her. She gasped. Fuck. Even his cock was perfect. Long, with a good girth, the rosy tip shinning with pre-cum, and there was a pulsating vein underneath, covered by trimmed white hairs. She licked her lips, mouth dry.

Astarion kicked off his boots and the rest of his clothes. “Like what you see?” He asked, smirk ever present but something looked out of place. Nia didn’t answer. She wrapped her hand around him and she stroke him. A startled moan left his lips. His chest moving up and down. “D-darling, you don’t have to,” he said, touching her hand. Was there apprehension in his eyes?

“I want you to enjoy yourself,” she said staring right into his eyes, her hand picking up a rhythm as she tried to pleasure him. Although it’d been long since she’d last been with a man, her body still remembered what to do, she found out.

Astarion groaned. “I can assure you, my love, I am enjoying myself by being with you.” Even though he smiled, his hand grabbed hers.

“This is me returning the favour,” she answered. He looked at her with tense eyes before letting her hand go. He nodded once, granting his permission. Nia went to work. The tip of her finger gathered his slick, and she used it to lube him. Her motions grew faster as Astarion groaned. He didn’t look unaffected anymore. She gently kissed him again as she pumped him. His hand dug into her hips as he pulled her closer to him.

“Fucking hells,” he cursed against her lips. She grinned at him. It excited her to know she could reduce Perfect Magistrate Astarion to a mess. As she sped up, he abruptly pulled her hand away. She raised her eyebrows. She was just about to ask if she’d done something wrong, when he kissed her lips. “If you keep this up, I’m going to cum before I can be inside you. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

She laughed shakily. “I suppose not.” She fiddled with her fingers. The weight of what they were about to do setting in. Five years was a long time without someone, even for an elf.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, lifting her chin so she could meet his eyes. “Are you…are you having second thoughts?” His eyes bore into hers, looking for answers. It warmed her heart he’d noticed her hesitation. Any other would have taken her no matter what at this point.

“Gods, no.” She shook her head, dissuading his fears. “It’s just…” Her cheeks burnt as mortification set in. “I haven’t done this in a while and I’m…” she bit her lip, “scared I’m not going to perform to your liking.”

Astarion laughed. Then, his gaze turned soft, more genuine than she had ever seen. “My darling, I assure you, you’ve been amazing so far.” He caressed her face as he spoke, making her heart skip several beats. “Leave it all to me. I promise to be gentle. Unless you beg me to go harder.”

She giggled. “Alright, we can continue. You can have me now, Astarion. So, take me.”

Astarion grabbed her hips, pulling her flat against his chest. “Oh, I’m going to have you,” he whispered to her pointed ear. “I’m going to make you feel so good now, Nia, you’ll still be wet tomorrow.” His filthy words made her shiver.

“Please, do,” she all but moaned.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss next, right under the canopy of the stars. It felt different this time. More definite. Both aware they would be soon joined together. His tongue met hers in a slow, sensual dance, his hand gently rubbing her cheek. As they kissed, his other hand tenderly moved up and down her hip. They pulled away so Nia could breathe. Astarion gave her his best seductive smile and motioned for her to jump in his arms. Feeling playful, she put her arms around his neck and jumped, trusting him to catch her. His arms encircled her thighs, pressing her to him. She could feel his erection against her skin. She grinned at him, her fingers playing with his locks again. He smiled back and captured her lips again. Nia closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling of having his body against hers. Astarion started walking, and soon he was slamming her against a tree. She grunted at the contact of her bare skin on the bark, but it wasn’t out of pain. No. She liked it when he was rough. He carried on kissing her, his hands rubbing her arse, her legs tightly wrapped against him.

“I want to be inside you now,” he mumbled, his lips brushing hers. He thrusted his hips forward. His cock poked her belly, and she felt herself lose control.

“Yes, please,” she sighed almost in bliss.

Nia leant her back towards the tree as Astarion used one hand to guide himself into her. He rubbed at her slit, gathering her juices in his tip before pressing inside her. She gasped as she felt the head of his cock right at her entrance. Her eyes closed, her head falling back. It stung for a second as he entered her, but then it felt divine. His cold cock was stretching her in all the right places.

“Sweet hells, you’re tight,” Astarion said, the sound strained. He started pressing open mouthed kisses on her neck as she clutched him. He wasn’t moving yet. He stood still until she got used to the feeling of being penetrated after several years. She could’ve shed tears at his attention. Few men had been this careful with her body in the past. Her companion was actually caring underneath his hard exterior.

Nia nodded to him a few seconds later. He moved a bit then, pushing himself further in. She whined. She swore when she looked down. He was only halfway in, and yet she already felt him deep inside her. “Fuck, ‘Star,” she moaned. “Please move, love,” she said, wrapping her legs tighter against his hips. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

“As you wish, darling.”

Astarion pushed into her making her cry out. He silenced her with sweet kisses as he moved. Each shallow thrust felt delicious. He soon found that spot inside her again, the one that made her see stars. Nia bucked her hips against his, trying to meet his movements. Her actions intensified their pleasure, both groaning at the sensation. His lips were the only thing that tethered her to the world. Her soul could’ve flown away at any moment, victim of this exquisite torture. She opened her eyes to look at him. His breath came out in puffs and his skin glistened with sweat. He looked so pretty, as he pounded into her. Nia brought him in for one more kiss, delighting in the feeling of him all around her.

Astarion stopped and pulled back from her lips. He was smiling, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ah, you’re fantastic,” he mumbled, his hands softly caressing her buttocks.

She frowned. Something was wrong. It sounded false. Nia nuzzled his nose with hers, bringing him back to her. “No, you are,” she said. She kissed the corner of his mouth.

Astarion chuckled, life returning to his eyes. “Then, let’s agree that we both are.”

He kissed her again, his cock still buried in her. But before he could start plunging into her again, Nia moved. Using all her strength, she rolled playfully, pushing them to the grass below. Astarion let himself fall flat on his back, with her on top, the two no longer connected. She straddled him, admiring his skin under the moonlight. He was ethereal.

“Want to feed?” She whispered, offering her neck with a flirty smile. Then, she lifted her eyebrows in a challenge.

Astarion blinked at her in surprise. Then he grinned. “I knew you liked it when I bit you, you minx.” He smirked dangerously. There was her rogue.

He pushed her off him, her body collapsing on the grass. Nia giggled, hands touching her chest. Then, she extended her arms, loving the feeling of the field under her skin. She sighed, finally at peace. Although, she wouldn’t know reprieve for long. Astarion was already crawling on top of her.

“You’re such a bad girl,” he said as he positioned himself at her entrance. “You want the frightening vampire to take you this badly? To drink from you as I ravish you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes twinkling in mirth.

That was the only thing Astarion needed to hear. He grinned at her, his leg hooking underneath her left knee to pry her open. His cock then plunged into her waiting cunt at the same time his fangs punctured her neck. Nia couldn’t stop the high-pitched moan that escaped her throat. The sensations were too much. The ice-cold pain of his bite, his freezing prick warming up as her vampire lover consumed her blood. Her eyes closed in ecstasy. He stretched her fast, not giving her a chance to adjust to his length. She gasped when he bottomed out, fully sheathing himself into her this time. Gods above, he filled her completely. She could feel him everywhere. The thought that she was inside him as much as he was inside drove her insane.

Nia arched her back, her free leg wrapping around his hips. Astarion started ramming into her as he drank from her. She cried out, her hand finding purchase in his back. Her lover stiffened above her. That’s when she felt them. The bumps and ridges marring his skin. She didn’t stop to think about it. Everyone had their scars. She moved her hand lower, pressing at his back, guiding him deeper inside her. He grunted in approval and went back to drinking. His thrusts were precise, almost methodical, but so effective. She couldn’t stop chanting his name as he took her.

She writhed underneath him. Her moans of pleasure and the filthy sounds of flesh slapping against flesh broke the peace of the night. She dimly wondered if her companions back at camp could hear them. Not that Nia cared too much at this point. Not when she felt like she could reach the sky with the unforgiving pace Astarion had set, his back arching as his hips rolled into hers. She couldn’t even meet him at this speed, which never faltered even as he gulped her blood.

Soon, he stopped feeding. He’d become an expert in knowing how much he could take from her without weakening her. He lapped at the blood pouring from her. His tongue licked her opened wounds until they closed. Then, the licking became kissing as he sucked at her neck.

“You have no idea how sweet your blood is,” he whispered against her neck. “You’ve no idea what you’re doing to me,” he revealed, lifting his head and looking at her for the first time since he began his incessant pounding.

“Then show me,” she said.

He grabbed her head for another searing kiss as his strokes became harder and faster. Nia’s head swam as she tasted herself in his lips. She should’ve been put off by it, but she was incredibly turned on by the thought that she alone invigorated him. Nia held onto his arms, his lips swallowing her cries which were quickly becoming sobs. Astarion pulled back. He took her legs, throwing the two of them over his shoulders and pushing them to her chest. With this new angle, he reached even deeper into her, the tip of his length rubbing at her cervix. He was wrecking her.

“Astarion!” Nia screamed, seconds away from slipping away in her pleasure. She made herself open her eyes, missing his face already. When she did, it was like he wasn’t seeing her. Instinctively, she brought her hand to his cheek, gently touching him. “Astarion?” She called him, softer, as she tried to reign in her moans.

He blinked twice at her and then he focused on her concerned face. His thrusts faltered for a second, then he smirked. “Sorry, as promised, I’m getting lost in you,” he kissed her as he pounded even harder. She cried, clutching at him. “Gods, you’re taking my cock so well. You’re so perfect, Nia.”

“Astarion,” she whimpered at hearing his praise, pawing at his sides. She was so close. She could feel it coming.

“Good girl, keep crying out my name. Let everyone know who’s having you,” he told her, knowing what his words would do to her. A hand slipped in between her legs, thumb circling her bundle of nerves. “Let them know you’re mine. That I’m the only one who can coax these sweet sounds out of you.”

She fluttered around him as her cries increased in volume. “Astarion, Astarion…” She felt ready to burst. “Ng, ‘Star!”

“That’s it, my love, that’s it. Come undone for me. I want you to cum around my cock, pet.”

A scream ripped from her throat as ocean waves assaulted all her senses. Nia didn’t know if she was shouting his name or if she was babbling nonsense in Elvish. Not that it mattered. All she cared about was her own release flooding her. For a moment, everything turned white. Then, she found herself spasming under him. Astarion buried his head on her neck, tongue teasing her skin. He shifted her legs, wrapping them around his hips, and grabbing her waist at a new angle. He rammed into her in a frenzy now, his perfect movements from before forgotten in favour of pounding with reckless abandon. Nia clutched his head and moved to kiss his forehead as he grunted.

“You can let go now,” she whispered in his ear.

He thrusted harsher, painfully into her, chasing his own pleasure. She whined, holding him to her chest. The noise she made awakened him. He turned his head to her. Nia tenderly grabbed his face as his maroon eyes bored into hers. Her thumb caressed his cheek, pink from her blood and all the exertion from their activities. He smiled at her. It was sweet. The sweetest one she’d seen so far. Astarion let his head fall on her forehead.

“Hells, I won’t… I won’t last…” he mumbled, his hips stuttering in their wild plummeting.

She moaned. “Please, do it. Please cum. Do it inside.”

He used her shoulders as leverage to ram into her faster. His own moans became louder. They were indescribable. The hottest sound she’d ever heard. Nia clutched his hips with her thighs, pulling him even deeper. She wanted to have him inside her when it happened. His release hit him as she held him. He closed his eyes, her name coming out of his lips at the same time his spend flowed right into her, coating her walls white. She groaned and grabbed his face to kiss him. Astarion returned the kiss fervently, thrusting a few more times till she had milked him dry. He collapsed on top of her, his member softening inside her. With his head on her breast, Nia began playing with his tresses, twirling them in her fingers as they both recovered their senses. With a grunt, he pulled out, his cock slipping from her. She whimpered at its absence. Exhausted, Astarion slumped next to her.

Nia lay on her side, turning to look at him. She reached for him, her hand intwining their fingers. “Thank you,” she said, voice hoarse from all her screaming.

Astarion gave her a tired smile. “It was my pleasure.”

“Did…” she stammered. “Did you like it?” Now that he wasn’t all over her, she felt self-conscious. “Did you have fun?”

His eyes widened and then he chuckled. “Of course I did. It’s hard not to with you.”

She sighed in relief. “I’m glad.” Then she yawned. Hells, she was drained. She had a feeling she was going to feel the results of their activities tomorrow. But she didn’t care. She would definitely never forget this night.

“Sleep, darling,” Astarion said. “You’re safe.”

Nia knew that. As long as her rogue was there by her side, she’d be safe. He’d proven it when they raided the goblin camp the day before. She smiled at him before her eyes shut. She fell asleep with her hand still holding his. She was so out of it, that she didn’t even feel him chastely kissing her lips one last time.