Chapter Text
I was the darkness
And you were the light
Tear it apart
And then we supercollide
There was a wriggling sensation behind her eyes, sight blurry as she came to herself. Inara had been here before, stumbled out of the pod as disoriented as she did now. Purple, fleshen, grotesque architecture all around her, alien and menacing. The Nautiloid. Clearing her sight, she groaned, but the voice was different, not hers.
Hunching, stalking from corner to corner to advance unseen, all instinct and practiced ease. Inara was good in sneaking and scouting areas too, had to be, to observe her quarry and terrain for opportunities and advantages of attack. But these quick movements here, on the ship weren’t hers. Everything was sharp, enhanced too, feelings and senses within and around her. Confusion bloomed about this place, as did the gnawing panic of being caught and the need to get away, just away, from here and him. Who was— The reek of rot, fetid brain matter and flesh burst and half-devoured before discarded. The stench of fire and sulfur mixed into it as well. It all bit in her nose like acid, lurched her stomach with nausea, too overwhelming.
So she held her breath, stopped breathing altogether while moving forward. ...Which wasn’t possible, oxygen no matter how vile it stank was essential for her existence. What was happening?
The path led upwards, through a fleshy sphincter door to a plateau above ground floor. Without breath, she pushed herself to the fleshy wall there, keeping all still. There were voices there, other people but her ears rang too much to discern them talking. Ally or foe? Doubling over Inara –or rather not Inara– clutched their stomach, the ache within much more like agony, jagged and barbed it stung. Like a second parasite it twisted and wound within, demanding all of their attention, momentarily consuming every thought. In the need of control, breath returned but it was too hasty and ragged, taking in foul air until the pain ebbed and eyes squeezed shut reopened. She –they– stood back up upright, pushed themselves from the wall toward the alluring thrum of pulse and a heartbeat that wasn’t their own. Or rather… theirs was absent. How— Mouth dry with a thirst burning in a parched throat, they crouched down toward the edge of the plateau and glanced at the movement below. Cautious to not be discovered.
And there she was, herself, broad back turned at an alien control panel together with the gith, as it really had happened. Reality mixed with the impossibility of dream, since she tranced, never slept. And yet Inara saw herself from their eyes, all too tangible.
Her real self operated a switch, but instead of freeing the prisoners hooked on devices as intended, it killed them. Which in hindsight was a mercy. They were far beyond saving anyway, yet it could be seen as her acting under the control of the mindflayers from strange eyes. Ah. That—
“A thrall?” Just a whisper, yet the voice was loud and distinctive enough to finally determine their—
—“Astarion!”
Inara awoke with a start and his name on her lips. Crimson eyes blinked back down at her in shock, next to a mouth agape with sharp canine fangs as he leaned over her. Astarion. A vampire, as suspected. And here to bite her in her reverie. Bastard.
Teeth clacking, his mouth plopped shut as he froze, still hovering over her. “Ah, shit. Look—” Survival instinct took over in the face of danger to her life. She launched herself at him, with the hidden dagger from her bedroll grabbed and ready. The gall of this undead arsehole– unbelievable! Using her greater mass of body and strength to her advantage, it took only a brief tumble through the grass to gain the upper hand over the creature threatening her. Inara pinned him under her into the grass, muscular thighs locking his leaner, sinewy body in place. Under other circumstances a very enjoyable position, if the guy beneath her were not a generally annoying little shit and, oh, the type of creature she’d specialized in hunting long ago. Aberrations, monstrosities. Undead. How fucking ironic.
“Wait, wait.” Astarion held up his hands, eyes wide and fixated at her raised dagger. His gulps of air were frantic. “Let’s not do anything drastic, alright?” Every word, gesture, even his lack of struggle beneath her was calculated placating of her, or the attempt of it anyhow. To show he was no danger, just one of the fellow mortals here as he had pretended to be for the past couple of days of their involuntary misadventure together. Badly, so.
Inara’s grip around the dagger’s hilt tightened as heat roiled her insides. The effortless way he always managed to piss her off ever since joining up should be caught, contained and then thrown into the deepest chasm. Along with him, preferably. So the irritation would no longer itch under her skin, when he did as much being in the general vicinity as her. “Like biting me you mean, vampire?”
Astarion chuckled up at her, all fangs and bravado as if he weren’t close to the receiving end of a dagger. Stabbing wouldn’t kill him, but still hurt like nine hells. Good. And yet he challenged, as if he couldn’t help himself to not grate on her. “Oh, I see. Have me all figured out, ranger?”
Audacious prick.
“Really?” Inara glared down at him in the dim light of their campfire. He’d been suspicious from the start. Unnaturally pale skin, cold to the touch when she had the misfortune to, and his red eyes. Worn, patched up finery several decades out of fashion, even for an elf. Him never eating camp dinner, instead sneaking out at night to feed whenever he thought no one was watching. Not to mention his lack of a reflection in the water, when he sat at the riverbed the morning after first camp. Yep, particularly in hindsight, Astarion was the most obvious vampire in existence. Even if it was the first she personally encountered. “Come on. You…weren’t exactly subtle.”
Well, admittedly, Astarion’s ability to walk in the sunlight without bursting into flames sowed doubts to her theory of his true identity. Because obviously vampires weren’t meant to be able to do that. But then again, they all should have collectively sprouted tentacles days ago too, yet hadn’t. So who the fuck knew what was valid at this point, when there were such upside-down bizarre rules now in existence? “Hmm… perhaps I have underestimated you then?” Again this amused, daring tone, but this time with an edge of surprise to it. He was trying to appear pleasant and appealing with it, too. Probably all perfectly rehearsed over decades, maybe centuries even.
Wasted on her, however.
“Obviously, you have. Since you thought sneaking up on me at night is a bright idea?” He couldn’t know, but it still was a bit insulting that he thought her an easy picking for a midnight snack. Leaning over, Inara brought the dagger closer to his throat. “Now… some answers, quick!”
Astarion didn’t answer, nor moved. His gaze was transfixed at her neck. By the hells, he couldn’t be serious! “Do you think I’m a joke?” Inara snipped her fingers in front of his face. “Eyes up here, vampire.”
Again no reply, but his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing grew ragged, labored, as if fighting for control. Like she –he– did on the ship, while piercing hunger gnawed a pit into her –his– stomach. What the fuck? Inara reeled backwards, shot to her feet, dagger forgotten. This hadn’t been a dream then, but reality. His memory. Why? H-how?
“I’m sorry.” Sitting up in the grass, his hand balled to a fist, opened and closed, opened and closed. He repeated the motion until his breathing had slowed and he reopened his eyes to look up at her. None of the prior bravado remained, neither in his expression nor voice. Naked fear and desperation was in its place now, like it had been on the ship. Now it was Inara’s turn to look away, to squeeze her eyes shut. A grave mistake, should he use the opportunity to strike at her. But he didn’t, instead remaining in place. Even moments later after she reopened them to check, he hadn’t moved from where he sat.
“I didn’t…don’t want to hurt you. I am just… so hungry, but I’m too weak to hunt.” Blinking, his eyebrows shot up and Astarion was frantic to elaborate, to correct himself. “I mean… I haven’t killed anyone, if that’s what you are thinking.“ A scoff, laced with bitterness for reasons unknown. “Not for food, anyhow. I feed on animals instead. Rabbits, deer, boars, whatever I can find.”
“I know.” His head snapped up at her due to the admission, and she snorted in return. Well, he hadn’t been exactly subtle in sneaking out of camp either. The only question remained as to why? Why hadn’t Astarion killed them all in their sleep in the past five nights and drained them dry already? Why was he going through the trouble to leave camp in secret and hunt animals for blood, risking detection each time? Something wasn’t adding up. This vampire in front of her… wasn’t exactly vampire-ing. Not according to the books she’d studied, anyhow.
The vampires in there were described as inherently evil, twisted creatures. As unfeeling, very manipulative and cunning. And without a soul, ever-hungry for blood, possessions and power, too. Whereas… Astarion, well, was more of an annoying runt, a lost stray pretending to be a roaring manticore. His ego and snobbishness was, anyhow. Not exactly—
His chuckle tore into the momentarily silence between them. “Well, I have indeed underestimated you then.” He mock-bowed his head. “My apologies.”
And a little shit, to boot.
It was like he couldn’t help himself other than to slip back into this vexing attitude that crawled her skin and curled her hands to fists. Inara smiled, the fakest kind she could muster. “How kind of you saying so… after you nearly bit me.” She cursed in elvish under her breath in a reflex and near need, for her to not combust into flames of rage and stake him after all. Unhelpful, sure, but—
He snorted, shook his head. “Such a filthy mouth. Almost admirable.” Ugh, how could she forget? Of course he’d understand all that as an elf himself, undead or not. Wonderful. Astarion exhaled, got back up to be at one level with her again. Or almost anyhow, since he was still nearly a head shorter than her. “As I was saying, ranger… I tried to hunt, but— ahhh! What is happening?”
The damn worm, or rather tadpole, wriggled behind her eyes, forcing Inara to double over in pain in the same way the vampire did. Another connection? Her mind reaching his, again? Disjointed pictures flitted before her eyes until they became solid and dark, foreboding. A forest? Wades of mist swirled through the night air, hung low above the grassed ground. The place was cold and abandoned, like in a nightmare. Astarion sprinted through its ever-shifting underbrush, constantly glancing over his shoulder as he ran away, just away. The same terror and urge to hide, to vanish into a shadowed corner gripped her as it did on the ship, through his eyes. He was being watched by something, or someone, like a predator would toy with its prey.
“First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.”
Inara shivered, the voice and the panic it wrought inside was like ice in her veins, and it froze her inside out. What? Who– Heart still pounding in her ears, the image flickered, while the cold lingered. It tapered out and shifted to something cracked and quivering, mangled. A rat, fetid and sick, twisted in Astarion’s hands. Dark eyes watched him from afar, commanding him to feed. He didn’t want to, but couldn’t refuse. So he bit down. His fangs buried in coarse, dirtied fur and Inara gagged at the taste flooding her mouth. What little blood the creature had was rank, foul with illness and— the connection severed.
Inara stumbled back, spat on the ground but the putrid taste lingered, twisting her stomach with nausea. What the— First at the beach, now this, and it even had escalated to taste perceived. Was this going to be happening on the regular now with the tadpoles? “Fuck!” She spat out once more. As if she needed any more motivation to get rid of her brainworm.
“You have seen it, haven't you?” Astarion’s exhale was a gasp, eyes wide and even… tearful? The shock, the remembrance of… whatever that was, blew right past any of his smug exteriors, leaving his real self hidden behind it trembling and bare. No surprise he kept this breadth of emotions locked up behind a mask, as easily readable as his face was in this state.
Doubtful she was faring any better at this moment, though. “Yes.” Seeing the vision –memory– was an understatement, she had a front row seat to his emotions, sights, sounds and even more regrettable… taste. Inara wiped at her mouth but the ghost of rancid fur and blood remained. Shivers still raced down her spine and her heart pounded with the effect of it all. Fear… not hers, none of these feelings were, but sheer panic about this presence looming over him all the same. That voice with its inescapable command for every word radiated and seeped through flesh and bone with pure malice. “Thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.”
Astarion outright winced at every word uttered. He glanced away toward the ground past her in order to collect himself. “You…have heard all that?” He looked back up, his gaze still haunted. “How?”
“Hells, if I know.” Inara exhaled in a shudder and swallowed down the vestiges of the phantom tang lingering. Around them, the camp was all silent, save for Gale’s snoring and the crackling of their campfire. A deceptively peaceful and warm summer night at the Sword Coast’s middle of nowhere. All but an illusion with everything that was waiting out there, beyond it. ”Our damn brainworms connected. Again.”
“Ugh, great.” His sneer made his distaste at the notion clear. “I don’t want you in my head, ranger.”
Well, the feeling was mutual. “As if that had been by choice...” Inara scoffed, looking away and into the firelight. While focusing on the familiar sizzling and popping that brought her comfort in so many adventuring nights, her pulse and heartbeat gradually quietened. And with that, the pictures in her mind settled too, became clearer and better understandable. This presence, the one that Astarion feared so much… was much more like how vampires were described in her books. Evil, unfeeling, commanding. Unlike… this lost stray here in camp, honestly. She brought her attention back toward him, since she needed clarity on something before making her assessment. “But I have a question nonetheless. That voice… the one who first was forbidding you to feed and then commanding you to. Who–”
“My master.” Astarion spat the word out like venom and snarled, mouth twisting. He grabbed that conjured anger and held it tight as he glared past her, into the fire. But a bit of despondency still trembled his voice. “I had to eat whatever disgusting vermin he picked, yes.”
“…Your master?” Oh, this explained it and made so much more sense! He was being controlled, forced to do whatever that voice told him to. “You are a spawn, then. Not a true vampire.” Inara let out a breath, lodged deep within. “Thank the gods.”
Astarion wasn’t sharing her bout of relief, however. “Excuse you?”
“Which means, you cannot turn anyone into a vampire through bite, that’s good.” And a tally on his reasons-not-to-be-staked scale, at that. It also explains why Astarion was… like that, emotions intact, if annoying as all nine hells. “I first thought this was why you snuck out, to avoid creating… accidents of the undead kind, but—”
“Hold up!” Astarion stepped into her line of vision, so suddenly she flinched back. It was unnerving how quietly he was able to move if he wanted to. Like a hunter on a prowl, as she had done so often too, be it for game or an actual opponent that came in all shapes and sizes, monstrous or not. He was a bit too close for comfort now, silently observing her for another moment. Inara tensed, a fight or flight reaction by instinct and more of the former. Thus her hands balled at her sides. She could take him, if needed. Easily so, as his failed attempt to trick her upon their first meeting half a tenday ago, and now with his fangs, showed.
“You are… not wrong, but how by the hells do you know so much about us vampires?” Pausing, his nose scrunched up, which bared his upper fangs. Apparently, he had lost all pretense regarding his true identity with her now. Though that was better than his poorly thought out ‘hello fellow mortals’ spiel he had been pulling the past days. More honest too, which was not exactly a word she associated with him thus far. “Ugh, don’t tell me you are one of these freaks that walk into a vampire’s den and beg for the gift of… “ He modulated his voice to a deeper, mocking tone, to really get his disdain across. “...eternal life?”
Ew. “No, not really.” Refusing to take his bait, she regarded him coolly instead. “If I walk into a vampires’ den, it is with the intent to kill.” Inara crossed her arms and paused, to leave the words suspended for another moment. “Because, among the many other things I’ve done in my long life, I’m a monster hunter by trade.” He blinked all too slowly as if struggling to process this fact presented by her. “I have specialized in aberrations and the undead in particular.” With hunting beasts and criminal humanoids on the side for bounty, but that wasn't relevant here.
Now even his blinking had stopped and he just stared straight ahead, mouth popping half-open. Oh no, she’d broken the little vampling. Inara waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Spawnie?”
It took another second or two until life –or unlife?– returned into him and he began to… laugh? Actual, full on hysterical cackling, all teeth and insanity, even. What the— It went on for another moment, with his laughter adapting a desperate, disbelieving edge as he rested his hands on his knees, snickering. “Because of course you are, dear. I don’t doubt that, truly.” For him to add that, well Inara must have glared down at him. Mainly since these antics were too much like ridiculing her, or worse, calling her a liar.
Taking in gulps of air, he ran a twitchy hand through his silvery curls, brushing them from his forehead. At least he’d managed to stop laughing, which had lacked any humor to begin with. But Astarion was far from being done ranting; whether at her, himself or the situation was unclear. Nor did it matter to his rather sardonic words and theatrics. “Of course. What else would happen to me, when after centuries of– ” Another breath and exhale, all trembling and erratic. He gestured wildly at her with his hands. “I’m conveniently lost, escaped at last, only to end up with a fucking Monster Hun—hm hmm hmm?!”
Inara jumped forward, clamped her hand against his mouth. “Stop being so fucking dramatic, gods! I don’t intend to harm you.” Huffing and puffing, his shoulders and chest heaved with each indignant in-and-exhale of oxygen he didn’t need to take. His breath was fanning against her fingers, a tad cooler than the warm night air. Well at least he did not bite this time. Glaring at him, she lowered her own voice to a whisper. “Do you want to wake up everyone here, you idiot?”
Too late for that. Their newest addition – or rather rejoining– to their troupe of assorted tadpoled weirdos crawled out of her makeshift tent, disheveled and positively pissed. Great. Spawnie used the opportunity to slap Inara’s hand away and scowled at her as if she was to blame for everything. Because of course he did. The gith glowered at them both, and inhaled to speak but Inara cut her short with the most apologetic smile she could conjure. “I’m sorry, ah, Lae’zel… Astarion and I were talking a bit too loud, weren’t we? Won’t happen again.”
Not that Lae’zel cared for it, anyhow. Beady hazel eyes behind thick coal makeup narrowed and continued to stare, to assess. “Ch’k! A monster forms inside us and yet you both waste time with idle chatter in the middle of the night! If you have to talk, do so on our way to find a healer.”
“Yes. Sure. We will leave for the Emerald Grove at first light and look for hints of your Creche too. Get some rest until then.” Inara threw Astarion a scathing look, daring him to protest. “I’ll keep watch, together with him.”
Eyeing them both, the gith murmured something in her tongue, the words sharp as if cursing them out. No matter, she turned to leave for her tent anyway, and after a moment of hesitation disappeared within again. Inara waited until Lae’zel closed the flaps, before turning back to him.
“Happy now?” she half-mouthed, half-whispered in elven. Of course, he only rolled her eyes at her in return. So she nudged him to move into the more quiet, less occupied corner of camp with her tent and a small lake behind it and not much else.
“I see.” Astarion glanced at her tent and back at her, a fake smirk on his lips. Back to being a little shit, quite frankly. “Well, if you want to spend time with–”
Her vexed groan interrupted him, thankfully. “We were just not done talking, before you roused everyone with your dramatic antics. Here it is quieter.”
“Excuse me, you cannot tell me you are a…” Catching himself with a too agitated tone and volume, he adjusted it to something quieter. Though his flourish gestures remained the same. “...Monster Hunter and—” He stopped himself with a long weary sigh. “Never mind that. But you can see why this all makes me slow to trust you, right?”
From his perspective, trying to hide and not to be found, nor his true nature to be discovered, it did. On top of everything else with the tadpole and the threat of turning into a mindflayer, an actual soulless monster. “Yeah, I guess so…” And his vision-memory proved that there are far worse creatures of his kind out there.
“Good.” Oh, his demeanor had shifted once more, his expression open again, but not the same honest kind like during his shock earlier. As if… trying a new angle. And yep, there it was with Astarion leaning in a little to emphasize his words. A simple but often very successful technique to make the other believe your words. Hah. “And you… can trust me.”
Any other person may have been flattered by the notion, but Inara only flinched back. Trust? Not after sneaking up on her two times, not after just half a tenday and trying to play her the fool all along. “Spare me the tales, Astarion. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to survive and not be turned into a monster. Same as you, I guess?”
His eyebrows shot up, looking at her with unbridled surprise. “You don't regard—” He halted with a shake of his head and corrected his expression into something neutral again. Gods, his emotions changed quicker than with a moody teenager, how exhausting. Or rather… the filters of them did, what he wanted and allowed others to see. “I mean, yes. I agree.” A smile, but it was a touch too perfect and restrained. “Huh, we are more similar than I thought.”
Another empty phrase of his, then. But at the heart of it all, survival was the common denominator and a valid truth within. Because adapting was what a survivor always did, first and foremost. And it finally explained why he snuck out to hunt animals instead of going for the easy meal of assorted mortals in camp. It was what she’d have done in his place too, since a group, and one with a common goal at that, provided more safety than being on his own. Sticking with the herd, he’d called it. Perfectly valid and even… smart, even if it meant to engage in this badly executed charade of his.
It hadn’t been with ill intent though, but an act of self-preservation. Which was actually more relatable than it was… comfortable. Anyone would have done the same. “Don’t worry… I won’t chase you out of camp, or send you away now.” Not after what she had experienced through his eyes, independent of as to why those visions happened. Because this terror… the ghost of it was still wedged within her. Inara shuddered. Annoying as he was with his flamboyance, snobbishness and all, no one deserved to feel like that. “I’m not that heartless.”
Astarion inhaled sharply, glanced up at her before away again, and settled for a scoff. “I don’t need your pity, ranger.”
Sure, let him balk, whatever. “Anyway, your master…” He glared at her for this word usage, so she adjusted. “This vampire commanding you… he kept you weak on purpose, didn’t he? The hunger… the rats, everything.” Which made sense, because doing so meant retaining control and power over Astarion this way. To keep him from straying too far or out of line. Ugh, disgusting, but perfectly in line for a monster, a true vampire. But then again, humans, those in power, did it too to other people. Different kinds of monsters, but heinous all the same.
“Yes.” He sneered past her, at the memory. “He did.”
“I see.” Exhaling, she let herself sink into a crouch, not just tired of standing about all this time, but also bracing for what she would say next. Inara hugged her knees. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? If we are to survive, I need you to be strong, ready to fight. Who knows what awaits us in this grove?” Certainly not good things, there rarely were.
Astarion shifted on his feet next to her, hesitating for a moment, before perching next to her after all. He kept himself all still and tilted his head as if trying to solve a puzzle presented to him. “Hmm, what a…sensible notion of yours. Bravo!” Oh, that sarcastic tone again. “You just forgot that I’m too slow, too weak to actually hunt and… feed right now.“ Dropping the sarcasm, he continued to rant instead. “Ugh, and all this damn walking and fighting drains me additionally, so whatever I hunt is not… enough. If I just had a little blood… I could think clearer, be faster, and fight better.”
“You snuck up at me because of that, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I… was desperate and—” Astarion grimaced, swallowing whatever he was about to say next, keeping it hidden. “It won’t happen again, I swear.” He was actually genuine in his regret here, surprisingly so. “You have my word.”
“Good.” Inara idly combed with her fingers through the open strands of her long, copper-red hair and…found two leaves, big and small, within. Ah, the usual joys of sleeping in the wilderness. She looked up sideways to him, meeting a gaze that had lingered on her. Huh. “How much blood do you need to be able to go hunt, by the way?”
Astarion blinked a couple of times, before proceeding to gape at her. Oh no, she broke him again. “Spawnie?”
“You… “ His head slanted slightly to the other side, eyes narrowing as he observed her. Disbelieving almost, and for good reasons. She couldn’t believe doing so either. “... Are you actually offering? Really?”
“Yes. Really.” Inara let go of her hair and shook her head to let it fan out over her shoulders. “Wouldn’t be the dumbest thing I have done in my one hundred and eighty three years of life, believe me.” Pausing, she reconsidered with a snort.” Perhaps the dumbest thing regarding my profession, but hey.” Inara shrugged. It’s not as if she couldn’t handle him, stop him when it was needed. She had proven to be stronger than him on several occasions already, so what was the harm? It would also solve this stalemate of him being unable to hunt wildlife to feed himself.
“One… hundred and eighty three?” Astarion arched an eyebrow, and his mouth twitched, threatening to turn into a full smile. “Well… you certainly do not look a single day over a hundred, darling.”
Of all the words her age was the one he focused on? What… Did he mistake her for a hapless, naive elf maiden of thirty or fifty years, or so? Pfft. Typical. “You… have heard the rest, right? Take a little of my blood…” She fixed him with a glare to make her point. “But not one drop more.”
“Of course.” His exhale ended in a longing sigh, with his voice dipping lower. “I only need a taste, I swear.”
A taste? Inara frowned. What odd wording. Most likely to reassure her he wouldn't take much, but maybe also… hmm. See if he even could do so, given the rules of his former master? “It's a little bit of a rebellion on your part too, isn't it?”
“What?” Again, he struggled to keep up with her conclusions and change of topics. Perhaps more like playing the fool, so he would not have to fess up to it. However, it was hard, nigh impossible, to forget the booming voice in her head and the malice within.
Thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.
“I support this notion, honestly,” Inara added with a grin as he remained silent, wary of her intent or reason for it. An act of his freedom, even if this meant drinking from her blood, offered freely by her. Gods. Jalen would rotate in her grave if she knew. Oh well. “Because what's life without breaking the rules a little, right?”
He laughed at that. No sardonic chuckle nor a hysterical edge to it, just a laugh. However quickly it faded again, it was… genuine, relaxed. More than he'd ever been since joining up, in fact. “Hmm. I thought you were a stickler for them, actually. Interesting.”
Pfft, if she were, she would not be here right now. “You truly do underestimate me, then.”
“A mistake, clearly.” He looked at her, open and amused, red eyes bright, even. “I won't repeat it.”
Astarion said something else after that… probably some extra-smooth line he'd saved for such occasions, but she tuned him out in favor of plopping down into the grass. This place, close to her tent, would do fine for it. She had lain in worse ones for a tumble in the past and this wasn't even one. Not really. More like a… donation of body fluids than an exchange, and well, hers at that. Whatever. The less she thought about it, the better.
Ah, tumble or not, that reminded her. Inara pulled the beige, comfy tunic over her head and threw it aside. Which left her sitting there in her dark breastband only. The mild night breeze was nice on her heated skin, admittedly. So she leaned back, hands stemmed behind her.
“But not that comfortable—” He snorted at her state of sudden undress, and probably her relaxation too. Nevertheless, he sat down next to her, unperturbed by it.
“Pfft, don't flatter yourself.” Eagerness was certainly not the reason for it, nor to show off, to him least of all. How laughable. “I just don't want to get blood on my shirt. These are the only camp clothes I have right now.“
“I see.” His gaze roved over her tall, muscular body, but not in the lewd way other people had done even without her permission. More like observing and assessing what he'd not seen before beneath all the armor. Like, detached interest almost. Or perhaps this was just how a vampire looked at his upcoming meal, who knew? Brr . “Quite practical of you.”
“Yes, well, let’s get this over with.” With another breath, Inara lay down into the soft grass and its blades tickled her bare skin. And despite all her nonchalance about it, her heart thumped faster, its thrum reverberating in her ears. Something he could hear too, no doubt.
“Hmm.” Astarion looked over her as she lay, positioning himself next to her on the ground and brushing the strands away from her neck in a surprisingly gentle manner. His thumb lingered for a moment longer than needed, grazing her pointy shell and the lobe as he withdrew. Inara exhaled, her warm breath fanning his pointed ear as he leaned in. His nose skimmed across the line of her jaw down her neck, with the faintest touch of cool lips beneath her ear, which drew out a shudder from her. He surely liked to build the anticipation, huh? Alas it wasn’t the good kind like before sex, since a bite was still a bite and suspending her into waiting for this pain to occur wasn’t exactly… alluring.
Nothing against a little pain to supplement pleasure, but this one was of the unknown factor, something she could not calculate and only brace for. Annoyingly so, Astarion reconsidered, withdrawing a little to shift his position for better access to… arteries, maybe? Wasn’t that instinct, shouldn’t he know? But then again, he had been forbidden from this kind of feeding before so she may have to give him the grace of a virgin here. It was just not her thing to simply lie here, doing nothing. Hmm, a vampgin? Lots of stars out tonight too and— Oh.
The weight of his sinewy body draped over her like a lover would. Not fully though, as he was still holding himself up on his elbows next to each of her shoulders. To keep some minimal distance one couldn’t call respectful anymore however. So of course, after so long without, her body reacted to the near full contact, drawing out goosebumps and a tremble of its own volition. Her pulse quickened, racing in her ears as his breath ghosted over from one side of the collarbone to the other, changing sides of her neck along with it. Inara bit her lip, suppressing the urge to ask if he needed help, guidance, anything. Not that she actually could provide this, not in this case… but–
You… are warm.” His nose brushed against the skin of her throat as if seeking the heat hiding there. A touch of lips, a scrape of teeth – fangs – testing a vein at the middle, without breaking skin yet. Could he just get on with it?
“You are not.” Well, to be expected with someone undead, and it wasn’t actually— Astarion bit down and her back arched upwards, her whole body tensing. The jagged pain stabbing her neck as his fangs sank into the column of her neck momentarily overwhelmed her. Like shards of ice rushing through her veins it chilled her body, freezing her in place. Hands grasping, Inara searched for purchase, clawing at clumps of grass below her. Astarion eagerly laved at the blood pouring out of the wound with swipes of his tongue over her skin again and again. He groaned into her neck as he swallowed the first bout.
The beginning sharpness of the sting slowly faded and mellowed into a heady ache roiling throughout her, eclipsing the ice. Inara leaned into him, reaching into the curls at the back of his head to burrow one head within. Cradling her head in return, he gave up all pretense of distance and pressed his body fully against her midst, into her groin. Oh damn, so much closeness had been… unexpected and yet – Inara bit her lip to stop the moan from escaping.
Pulse still sprinting a marathon on its own, her heart pounded just as fast in her chest. It beckoned more blood upwards her veins and arteries he received in giddy tugs. Warm and tingling, the jolt of pain meshed with pleasure and swiftly blended to a perfect singular sensation. Like waves it radiated through her body, unabating and intoxicating. Panting into her neck as he fed, Astarion ground his hips against her with every small sip of her taken. Oh, so vampires could get–- good to know. The friction between them was delicious and dizzying either way. Or maybe it was just an onset effect of blood loss and she should stop him any moment now or it would be – gods . All thoughts scattered when his erection pressed hard at– oh so hard– and rubbed up just right against her clit, letting her see stars not those above her. Mhm hells yes. Eyes rolling back into her head, Inara keened into the night sky, unable to hold back this time. Maybe… just a moment more then. Let her have this, him too.
Oh but the noises he made at her throat had grown obscene, tearing through the stillness of camp. With how he was licking, suckling at her neck like a starving man while groaning loudly, the others in camp must think he was fucking her in abandon here into the grass. Worse even, without the hindrance of fabric between them existing, they actually would. No doubt by now. Since those simple hazy feelings had ratcheted more and more into desire then turned euphoria and it swept them both up and along further where no thoughts existed. Just the want for more, chasing the edge of it all, the pain, the pleasure both combining at the top of it all.
Moments of relentless, breathless debauchery passed with Inara surrendering herself to the fervor and hunger of her own as Astarion sated his at her neck. And while he still moved into her, creating enticing frottage with slow, punctuated motions, the keen burn of her own arousal had mellowed out to something fuzzy and warm by now. Her body was almost weightless, floating above ground like the twinkle of stars in the sky. Incandescent, dazzling, connecting to others of its kind with mere presence. Same as her. Her blood coursing through her veins prior flowed now through his, with every heavy breath she became more aware of this coalescence, this unity. Like a convergence, intertwining, a reunion of something she couldn’t place and still was inherent, wanted, recognized. Natural.
Strange for it to be this familiar when it was a new sensation never experienced before and yet its existence was innate to her, fundamental and simple like the sun rising every morning. Intimate, known. It just was. “Where have you been…” Weird how her voice was so foreign, raspy, distant now. Inara's head swam, the dotted lights in the firmament blurred before her eyes.
Their brightness dimmed in the sky yet carried on resplendent within her.
There was no pain, no struggle, just warmth. She was safe, whole. “Found you…” Inara slurred, mouth fuzzy. Her complete body was like cotton wool, with a gentle numbness covering her. No, she couldn’t leave now, not when what had been lost so long was now. But too late, he didn’t stop and— Inara exhaled and all faded into nothingness.