Work Text:
Astarion has been patiently, or rather, impatiently waiting for her to make her way over to him for the better part of the night and she's still managing to find new people to talk to instead of him. Whatever the tieflings she's speaking to have to say can't possibly be all that interesting if they're anything like the ones who tried to talk to him. He made sure to shut that down the moment it began.
Their praise stirred something bitter and angry in his chest that he'd rather not deal with right now. Not when he has plenty of other things to be worrying about. Like his plan coming to an end if the wizard has anything to say about it.
It surprises him a little how angry Gale’s proposition makes him, but he supposes that's to be expected when a plan goes awry. Not that he would know, he's never been much of a planner.
Although perhaps he should be, after all, things are going surprisingly well so far. With the exception of Gale’s attempt at interference tonight, he's yet to hit a single snag in his schemes…
He glares at his wine bottle, double checking the label to be sure it is in fact wine and not some sort of vinegar Gale packed for cooking with.
Flashes of their first night together creep up on him, replaying sensations he still can't fully understand. It was… different. Not good, but also not bad. Something else. Something he wants to try again.
“There's my little treat, with their cheeks all flushed," he smirks at her as she finally saunters over, “You will come to my bed tonight, won't you?"
Delicious color deepens and spreads further across her face, down to her tantalizing neck. If nothing else, at least the trade is worth it. Her blood is like nothing he's tasted before, or since, and gods know he's been trying.
Now that the worm has freed him from Cazador's rules, he's been feeding from every kind of thinking creature they come across just to experience the difference. Everything has been better than the swill he's used to, but nothing so far has come close to her. All the more reason to keep this going.
Her mouth twitches, suppressing a smile.
"Very presumptuous. I'm undecided what I'll do tonight.”
Cheeky.
“Ah, you need a bit of enticing, let me see… Hmm… How about this one? All these accolades from the tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips."
Familiar revulsion begins to pool in his gut, but then she laughs, and it recedes back to where it came from. He does enjoy making her laugh. Nobody else appreciates his sense of humor the way she does… although admittedly, he wasn't exactly trying to be funny just now.
“Is that the best you can do?" She raises an eyebrow, fighting off more of her addicting smiles.
“Hmmm… let me give it another go: Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation — it's as if the gods made you, just to ruin me.” He gives a slight shimmy to his shoulders as he says it, just to break her carefully neutral expression, satisfied when he's successful.
“You're sweet, and sillier than I thought."
… Sweet.
Nobody has ever called him sweet before, at least, not that he can remember.
Though he could have been, once, when he was just an elf working in the city... Was he sweet then?
“Hm. I can go all night with the flattery, but is that really all you want? How about if I said these little words? Everyone's favorite…"
Looking at her, for a moment, he imagines what it would have been like to meet her then. If he knew how to mean the words that lured so many victims to their deaths.
Would she have wanted him if he had wanted more than this? If he were sweet, and wanted sweetness in return, could the words have been true one day?
“I love you."
They're bitter on his tongue. Regardless of what could have been, he's too far gone for sweetness now. Dwelling on ‘what ifs’ is a waste of his time.
Her smile falls just a little, the crease that forms between her eyebrows when she frowns at him threatening to make an appearance, but she recovers quickly and rolls her eyes.
“Having fun, are you?"
He laughs, and then because it's true, and because he can't stop the words from coming out, he says, “I am… It's hard not to with you.”
Fun is something this process hasn't been in well over a century. In the beginning, before the hopelessness of his situation had truly sunk in, before he stopped caring whether the people he bedded were beautiful or vile, he'd been able to have a little fun now and then.
But that only made it worse when they were taken away.
Not the time.
Better to focus on the matter at hand, namely: keeping her on his side.
“Now as much as I'd relish standing around and saying all my favorite lines at you, I'd much rather we got to experience each others full portfolio of talents once again.”
“Hm,” she hesitates, "I'm sure we'll get another chance soon… but not right now.”
Oh. Well...
How unexpected.
“I look forward to the day. Meanwhile my hunger for you will only deepen.”
He tracks the rise and fall of her hips as she walks away from him, surprised at how disappointed he feels. Of course he's relieved too, which just makes the disappointment all the more difficult to comprehend.
That night he lies in his tent staring at the fabric ceiling and ruminating over her gentle rejection.
Why? Why not tonight? Because of Gale? Because of him?
But it wasn't a no… not forever.
What was the point in saying yes but later? What would later give them that now couldn't?
The question nags him well into the next day and the next, until he can't stand the uncertainty anymore.
This time he doesn't wait for her to make her rounds that night in camp. Instead he finds an opportunity to snatch her wrist and pull her away into one of the monastary’s empty rooms while the others search for some axe or whatever it is they're supposed to be looking for.
She doesn't pull away, doesn't protest their closeness as he moves to press her back against the wall.
“Oh? Something I can do for you Astarion? I'm a little busy at the moment."
Her racing heart and flushed cheeks betray her attempt at appearing impassive. It stirs those strange, hard to decipher feelings to see her like this. Their fearless leader, coming undone by the smallest suggestion of what she knows he's capable of. How can it make him feel so powerful, while making him feel so small?
“I'm amazed you've managed to keep your head clear enough to fight. I've been thinking of our last night together ceaselessly."
Not a lie, not technically. He pushes her further into the wall until the rigid metal of her armor digs into the soft leather of his.
“I'll be in quite a spot of mortal peril if you let me keep distracting myself dreaming instead of doing. We can't have that, can we? It would be very dangerous."
This part is not quite so true, though she seems to know that, laughing breathlessly and holding his gaze with playful eyes.
“I've managed so far, I'm sure you'll be able to do the same.”
His plan doesn't work if she won't stop using her head instead of her heart — The heart that was foolish enough to trust him, the heart that has never been anything but gentle to him even when he didn't deserve it... He swallows down the revulsion to pout and continue playing his part in their game.
“Don't tell me you don't think of me, lying in your bedroll all alone. Wouldn't you prefer the real thing? To spend another night lost in eachother before we march into the belly of the beast?"
She tilts her head to the side, considering him, considering his offer, and he's wracked with sudden guilt at her affectionate eyes and the gentle curve of her mouth. Maybe he should have chosen one of the others for this all those days ago…
But she had been the easiest, and the most useful. Why would he choose anyone else?
It's the very sweetness she regards him with, the softness of her heart that had made her the easiest to stomach in the first place.
More than stomach… something more, something that makes him feel less pleased than he should when she nods, falling for his charms again like so many others before her.
“Tonight? I'll come find you when everyone is asleep."
“I'll be waiting." He bends to catch her burning lips in a lingering kiss, not sure why he's done it when she already agreed to another night together. She hums quietly into his mouth, parting her lips and allowing him to taste her for the first time since their first time.
This kiss is odd. Different. It's not a means of seduction when he's already secured his goal for the night. Just a kiss for the sake of it before they go back to getting themselves killed by a bunch of Gith.
It's… exhilarating.
For once he's permitted to just enjoy the warmth of her lips and the taste of her skin, to feel her heart thrumming so hard and fast against him that it nearly feels like his own.
With a bit of a jolt he realizes that he likes kissing her. When there are no strings attached, no terror infecting the sensation, he enjoys it quite a lot...
She pulls away too soon after this discovery, kissing his cheek in a strike like lightning that leaves him dazed and confused.
“We should go. I don't want to be on the wrong end of Lae’zel’s blade if we keep her waiting."
“Now that would be a shame, seeing as I have other plans for you tonight... Lead on, darling."
In a cruel twist of irony, he finds himself in much more danger of being too distracted thinking of her to keep himself from mortal peril than he’d implied himself to be before.
He's a little slower than usual to realize their encounter is heading towards violence when speaking to the Githyanki general. Too caught up in the back of her head and wondering what it means to want to touch her almost as much as he never wants to be touched again to see the signs.
One of the giant hounds is lunging at him before he's drawn his blades, catching him on his back foot and forcing him to play defense.
It happens again in front of the inquisitor, though he'd had his weapons drawn before they even started speaking this time. The others would probably never notice; he's still the first to strike when the Gith move to attack, but he's horrified to realize he'd been thinking about her again just as the fight began.
More disturbing still, he finds himself watching her every chance he gets to make sure she's still on her feet.
The final straw is when she catches his eye from across the battlefield mid combat and flashes a radiant smile his way before splattering herself with Githyanki blood, and he can't help but think she's the most beautiful creature he's ever seen.
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
He stabs his next victim with a little more vigor than usual to keep the panic from overwhelming him.
What has he done?
How could he have let this happen when he knew what this was from the very beginning?
When did it happen?
The fight ends, but he's in more danger now than he was with swords aimed at his chest, and far more nervous now about tonight than he has any right to be.
His little plan is very quickly falling apart.
She's true to her word, approaching his tent once the firelight dims and the only sound in camp is Gale’s gentle snoring.
It's too late to back out now, isn't it? He'd already asked her for this before he knew how he felt. Hells. He still doesn't know what he's feeling, just that it's more than he wants to be feeling, and far more than he has any idea what to do with.
“Where do you want to go?" she asks, almost shy… How infuriatingly adorable.
“With you my sweet? Anywhere."
The panicked buzzing and wild anticipation mingle and infect one another until he can hardly tell which is which. It doesn't help when she grins so deviously, threatening to restart his heart only to stop it once again.
“Are you up for a bit of a walk? I saw a place earlier… it might suffice.”
Putting this off for any longer than he has to does not in fact sound appealing, but he can hardly tell her no when she's looking at him like that. Besides, this will surely be just as dangerous no matter where it happens.
"How mysterious. Lead the way then darling.”
She takes his hand in her own and laces their fingers together to take them to his ruin.
He should make up an excuse, stop this from happening before it's too late… but her hand in his feels devastatingly nice.
What an idiot. There's no way out of this mess now is there? All he had to do was what he's done thousands of times before and he couldn't even do that without screwing it up.
People have sex with feelings all the time though, don't they? It probably won't even matter when it comes down to it. He won't really be there for it anyway…
“You're quiet tonight. Something on your mind?"
“Just the usual. Depraved carnal lust and all that."
She snorts. “Really Astarion, what is it? I'm not used to being able to hear the wildlife when I'm standing next to you."
This is his chance. He could lie his way out of this… or gods forbid, he could tell the truth.
But he doesn't.
Because a very, very stupid part of him wants to know what it's like, and he doesn't want her to go just yet.
“I’m just wondering what this shadow curse business will entail. If our little run-in with the undead on the way here was any indication, I can't say I'm looking forward to it."
“If you ever need it, you can always ask to feed from me again while we're in there. You don't need to go hungry."
He's overcome with the urge to run. Or perhaps to drag her to the ground and kiss her senseless before they reach this secret location of hers… Or maybe to be violently ill.
“How very sweet of you my dear, but be careful what you offer, I may just have to take you up on it."
“That was the intention. Silly vampire."
They step through foliage onto a large cliff overlooking the vista down below.
“Do you like it? I thought the stars might be nice from up here, and you seemed to like—"
He cuts her off in a desperate kiss, either to satisfy the overwhelming desire to do so, or to keep her from finishing the sentence that would make the terrible guilt he already feels that much worse.
The stars are beautiful, but she is better.
More complicated, harder to understand the way she lights up the darkness, but undeniably better.
His body reacts the way it always does, knowing the routine by heart, but he hasn't had enough time yet. He doesn't want his turn to end yet and let his body take over.
Slowing his pace, he kisses her more gently and savors the feeling before it's inevitably replaced with the rest to come. She smiles against his lips, bringing her hands to either side of his face and running her thumbs across his cheeks as she matches his tenderness with her own.
Is this what she feels? It didn't matter to him before whether this was something special to her or not but now he can't help but wonder.
“Why tonight? Why not before?" he murmurs in-between bittersweet kisses.
She lingers against him for a moment longer before pulling away and moving her hands to his his chest, looking up at him with darkened lips and painfully affectionate eyes.
“I was feeling a little lost that night. Confused maybe… but not anymore. I know what I want now."
“You do, do you? And just how did you make that little discovery?" He would honestly love to know. It hasn't been so hard for him to know what it is he wants in… well, ever.
Before she answers she takes his hand again and guides him into sitting with her closer to the edge of the cliff, looking at the stars instead of him.
"I just had to think about some things… confront some personal demons better left undiscussed for tonight… though you're free to ask any other."
She glances at him briefly. “I know you have your fair share as well, and I'd never pry, but I want you to know you are also free to tell me about them any time. If you want to."
“I can't imagine a worse use of my time than sitting alone contemplating my demons." He sneers, and his voice comes out more antagonistic than he meant it to, but she only shrugs and smiles like she understands, but how could she?
“It wasn't fun, true… but I'm glad I did. I feel lighter now, different. They aren't gone necessarily but.. I know where they are now, and I'm choosing not to be afraid."
He wants to ask what she was afraid of, but he's afraid himself of the answer. Fear has been his only constant companion for so long… to be rid of it would be like getting rid of his hunger. It's impossible to imagine.
Instead of asking, or finding anything worth saying, he distracts her from the topic altogether by pushing her onto her back and kissing her again. Harder, like she might slip free and drift away if he doesn't pin her to the ground.
He doesn't resist this time when his body takes over. Being with her has suddenly become too painful. Too… real.
This is much more comfortable. He watches from a safe distance as his hands rid them of their clothing and move across her body with perfected rhythm.
A safe distance. Until she pulls his head down to hers and murmurs his name against his lips before kissing him with such agonizing slowness, that he's catapulted back into his body against his will. The movements he didn't realize his hips were making stutter with the shock of it. They'd moved much more quickly than he realized.
“Astarion… you are — gods above you are so wonderful.”
“I'm glad you appreciate my talents." He smirks and redoubles his pace to snap her out of whatever starry eyed musings she's fallen into.
“No— oh," she sighs, arching her back and digging her fingers into his hair. “Gods. Yes. I do, but I meant all of you. I've never —"
He slams into her, not wanting to let her finish what she was about to say. Once sufficiently distracted she tilts her head to the side in offering and he accepts greedily.
Only biting into the soft flesh of her neck and letting her blood pool into his mouth doesn't bring him relief. Somehow, it makes it worse.
Her blood is heavily saturated with affection and desire. More than before. Much more. Too much.
He moans, and it isn't even calculated. It's just her. The way he can't escape how… how something she feels. Overwhelming. Divine. Horrifying.
She is everywhere, flowing inside him even as he buries himself in her. Filling his ears with her breathless cries, his nose with her scent, his mouth with her blood.
His control slips, the rhythm he maintained with little effort now thrown off completely as he detaches himself from her neck and licks it clean.
“Astarion,” she whines.
“Good gods. What are you doing to me?"
“Kiss me."
He shouldn't. This is already too much. He has no idea what will happen if he goes further.
“Please."
“Darling you can't talk like that if you want to finish tonight."
The little devil grins at him, pushing up against him to roll him to the side until she sits on top of him setting her own pace. A vexingly erratic one.
“Don't talk like what?" She grinds against him with such slow, measured strokes that he begins to feel a little offended that she doesn't seem to be nearly as undone as he is.
“You know what."
Impossibly, she moves even slower. He growls and yanks her hips down onto himself with a sudden intensity that makes her gasp and close her eyes.
“No, but I would love to, if it makes you act like this. I may never stop again."
Act like what? Like he's forgotten everything he knows about sex?
“Don't be ridiculous. This is hardly my best performance."
She truly is a vision, her body on full display above him and smiling like an idiot while she tortures him with unpredictable movements that make it hard for him to retreat to safety.
“I know. I like it. I like you."
Embarrassing. He twitches inside her. She grins wider, leaning forward as she moves faster against him.
“I like you a lot you know. I like you like this…"
She punctuates her sentences with forceful rolls of her hips.
“I like your jokes. I like your laugh. I like when we fight together."
“Darling please.” He digs his nails into her hips, begging her to release him from this foreign state of wanting that feels like uncontrollable falling.
“I like when you call me darling. I like watching you pick locks and spin knives. I like being near you, with you, on you."
“Fuck."
“Do you like me Astarion? Will you show me?"
He laughs even as she threatens to make him come undone, closing his eyes and arching into her without thinking.
“I'm not sure how much clearer I can be darling."
Heat spreads across his torso as she leans forward to whisper against his ear, slowing down and speeding up and remaining completely unpredictable. It shouldn't work. There's a tempo to these things. Rules she isn't following.
“Please. Will you come for me?”
It shouldn't work, but it does.
He spills inside her while fully inhabiting his body for the first time in so long he doesn't anticipate the strength of emotion accompanying the physical waves of pleasure. He isn't in control enough to stifle his own animalistic groaning as she continues to work him until she herself is crying out and tightening around him.
But he knows to expect what comes next. This part at least, is the same.
As he comes down from his unexpected high, the low that follows feels all the lower.
Two centuries of being used as a prostitute and he's still desperate to be fucked by the first person he sees after he achieves his freedom. He recoils from the memory of his own ecstasy, disgusted by it, by how he enjoyed it.
He waits for her to get up so he can clean himself and try to be rid of the shame that feels so physically present on his skin, but she doesn't. She rolls to the side with him in her arms and kisses his forehead with a soft smile.
“Thank you,” she kisses his cheek, "I do mean it, you know? You're… very special to me, Astarion."
He should throw himself off the cliff.
It would be a better fate than feeling the full weight of his actions settling on him like soil over an open casket. She can never know what he's done to her.
“Yes you made that clear when you were crying my name darling… We should head to camp. There's another long day ahead of us tomorrow."
“Will you come with me to my tent?"
His stomach drops.
“My dear much as I would love to I don't think I can go another round with you tonight, I'm —"
"No, not for that. Just to… just to be near me. For the night.”
“What for?"
“I'll show you… and if you don't like it you can leave, any time.”
He forces a smile though dread is making its way into every corner of his mind and body.
“Of course my dear."
The trepidation on their walk back to camp is almost worse than the one they made to leave it. He needs to be alone to let his mind clear itself of the debris leftover from another sexual escapade. Perhaps when she's fallen asleep he'll be able to get in a few hours of private moping before morning.
She crawls into her tent and pats the spot beside her while he stares warily for a moment before following her direction.
The tent flaps fall closed and they're submerged in darkness.
As her head comes to rest against his shoulder he stiffens instinctively, waiting for whatever comes next. He waits for a while.
“What now?"
“Hm? Oh, this is it, just a cuddle. If you can't sleep or trance or whatever you do you can always go back to your own tent."
He scoffs. “I don't cuddle."
“Okay."
He waits for more, and he's left waiting again, this time his patience wears out quickly.
“You're telling me people just… lie here twiddling their thumbs for no reason? I never knew people were so boring.”
“Well no, you can hold on to me, or I could hold on to you, we could talk, or sleep, or yes, I suppose we could twiddle our thumbs… I'm a fan of the sleeping option though, personally.”
After a few minutes of silence, he hears her heartbeat slow and her breathing become shallow with sleep. He's free to leave now to go rinse himself of his shame, but how is he meant to move without waking her?
While carefully shifting her away from him, she seems to stir just enough to misinterpret the movement and wrap herself around him, burying her head in his chest and sighing before promptly falling asleep again. He freezes.
But as the seconds tic past, his muscles relax and he decides bathing can wait for a little while.
Tentatively he experiments with holding her, as she suggested, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her a little more snug against his chest. When that fails to trigger any dread or disgust with himself her pushes further, kissing the crown of her head and savoring the scent of her hair.
It's nice… Surprisingly so.
In fact he's soon forgetting his plan to leave entirely as his eyes flutter shut and her steady heart and comfortable warmth lull him into a more peaceful trance than he's had in centuries. When he dreams, the memories that play are from after the Nautiloid crash, and from within them he's both free from Cazador, and from the awful realization that his plan has been completely and utterly ruined.