Chapter Text
The palace was surprisingly well-lit for a house full of vampires. Well-lit and... Empty. It certainly made things easy for their early morning stake-out. The last person they needed to run into was another spawn, or worse, Cazador himself. The other spawn had made it clear during their unsuccessful ambush that Astarion was “essential” to their master’s ascension. Still, those windows were absolutely enchanting.
"It's a suspended cantrip behind false glass," Astarion commented dryly when he noticed Ereldra's staring, "Anything to make the nobles of the Upper City believe he's not capable of draining them in half an instant." His voice sounded strained, as though he was choking on air. She’d reach out to caress his arm, but his body language alone made it abundantly clear that he was in no state of mind for comfort or touch right now, so she abstained. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel even more discomfort than what already plagued him.
She instead nodded and continued her way down the main hall, surprised to see so little in the way of furniture. Then again, she couldn't imagine people actually spent time here. There was plenty of terrible art to make up for the lack of seating, though. Eventually, the group found a winding, grand staircase that led downward, rather than up. Did they even enter the front door? Once on the lower level, a room to their left piqued the group’s interest. It absolutely reeked of necrotic magic and rot; a swirling mist of green light and smoke filtering under the closed door.
"Something in that room must be of great importance to be guarded by such dreadful magic," Gale whispered, fingers resting along his jaw as he thought out loud, "Perhaps we should investigate?" When he cracked the door open, a wave of the aforementioned light propelled him backwards against the wall. Next to Ereldra, Astarion took a slow, deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a slight tremor in his hand that didn’t go unnoticed. She tried to offer a sympathetic gaze, but he didn’t see her as he stalked toward Gale.
"Would you please be more careful? I don't want it known that Cazador has visitors so early in the godsdamned morning." Astarion hissed, dragging Gale to his feet by the scruff of his robes. "Especially when I don't know where he is in this hellhole."
Gale brushed himself off and held up his hands in surrender. “Understood, my friend, understood. But I do think we should investigate at some point- I know if I had something I wanted to keep a secret, I’d protect it with my life… Or rather, someone else’s death. Say, who is the child on the floor, Astarion? Do you know her?”
A child? Ereldra peeked through the cracked door and gasped at the sight of a young girl lying dead on the floor, swirling black and green mist emanating from her limp form. Behind her, Astarion cleared his throat.
“Victoria,” he breathed, “She wasn’t dead when I was taken… She’s Leon’s daughter.” Leon was one of the spawn that had come to “retrieve” Astarion the other night, failing miserably when the entire camp woke to fight for their vampiric friend.
“Let’s deal with this later, shall we? This is a stake-out, not a rescue mission.”
Throughout the entire day, they only came across one other soul- a young man wandering the hallways and muttering to himself about the ritual. Hells, he hadn’t even noticed the group, he was so engrossed in his own head. Towards the end of the initial search, Ereldra crept into the Chamberlain’s suite to do one last sweep before they returned to camp to plot. The others were just outside the door, keeping watch.
The suite was simple enough, but something about the room felt off, as though she was missing something. Each wall felt solid, each painting carefully hung. Even the Chamberlain’s desk was neat and tidy, so why did something feel horribly awry in this space? Just as she was about to give up, a glimmer in the wall caught her eye. When she turned, a tall, thin man walked towards her, a serpentine smile growing wide across his face.
“Aren’t you a lovely little thing,” he crooned, his voice soft and slightly higher pitched than she would have expected. “Come to bring the child home to me, hm? I should thank you.”
Cazador. Ereldra knew she needed to run or call for help, but wouldn’t that just give up Astarion’s location beyond the door? No, that wouldn’t do. She could hold him off, right? Petrified, she backed away until her shoulder blades thumped against the door.
“I…” She swallowed, unable to form words. Half of her tadpole-riddled mind was unable to move, knowing what he’d done to Astarion and his other spawn-she could easily be next. The other half; the darker one, fought against her fear, wishing to rip him limb from limb until he was a pile of guts on the floor. Memories of Alfira flooded her mind, the pungent aroma of her blood filling her nostrils once more. She was so distracted by the memory that she didn’t see Cazador come closer until his hand wrapped around her throat.
“You know, I could kill you, as I have all the spawn I need… Or, I have a better idea. I won’t kill you if you open the door and give him back to me. One favor for another, pet?”
“And if I don’t?”
“Well, I suppose I could just snap your neck and take him myself. But, that’s simply too easy, my dear.” One of his long nails dragged over her shoulder, catching on the fabric of her robes as his glowing red eyes followed. His movements were slow and calculated, like a cat toying with its prey. Suddenly, he clapped his hands together as a plan formed behind those evil eyes.
“Ah! I know what I’ll do. A little gift for the boy, for finally coming home where he belongs. I’d warn you about the sting, but it appears the little rat has been breaking the house rules.”
With Astarion, feeding had become an occasional ritual that fed both him and the Urge. The bloodletting seemed to ease the constant headaches and desire for blood, all while sating him far better than any boar could. It truly was a sight to behold, having seen him fight better and better as the months passed by leading up to this moment. In the beginning, it took nearly all of his energy to survive a battle, often ending with him half sick and trailing behind the group back to camp. Now, his improved diet had all but turned him into a trained assassin, each killing blow more powerful than the last. Even as an undeniable killing machine, feeding was a gentle, loving ritual between them that almost never hurt.
Cazador did not offer the same courtesy. Aligning his teeth with the small scars from his spawn, he bit down hard, clapping a hand over Ereldra’s mouth to muffle her scream. He drank greedily, pulling far more blood than Astarion ever had. It was too much. Just as black edged her vision, he pulled back before biting his finger and shoving it in her mouth, forcing his blood onto her tongue. Against the bite marks, she felt a warmth similar to Shadowheart’s healing magic- was he healing her?
“What a shame, a sudden illness has come over the leader of the pack,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers still filling her mouth, “There’s nary a scratch on her pretty, little throat.”
Ereldra bit down, more of his blood filling her mouth before he yanked his hand away and threw her to the floor with a low growl.
“You ungrateful wretch!” Cazador hissed before dissolving into a fine, black mist and knocking the door open as he escaped. The last thing Ereldra saw before she passed out was Astarion, Gale and Lae’zel sprinting into the room, Astarion skidding to his knees and catching her head before everything went black.
Taking a deep breath, Ereldra folded in on herself, curling into a tight little ball on the mattress. Rehashing the events that lead to her sudden entrance into undeath felt nearly as awful as experiencing them first hand. Worse still was the wide-eyed stare from her companion, and how it contrasted against his set jaw and flared nostrils. She couldn’t tell if Astarion was horrified, livid, or stunned. Perhaps he was all three. Looking away, she instead focused on his now rumpled shirt, pushed aside to reveal just a glimpse of pale collarbone below his scarred throat.
He truly had every right to be angry with her- why couldn’t she call for him, or better still, take him in the room with her? What purpose did she serve in always having to play the hero, when the last 200 years proved that he could have handled the situation far better than she did? In the past, she’d learned that getting in Astarion’s way was usually the worst course of action when it involved his own trauma or past, and now, she’d done it again. Gods, why couldn’t he just say something already? Ereldra cleared her throat.
“I’m sorry.” she whispered, burrowing her face in her pillow. Soft, warm fingers brushed along her jawline. She almost jumped, then remembered that he’d likely feel warm now, given that she was equally dead.
“Whatever for, my dear?” Ereldra’s head snapped back up, to see his expression had softened considerably.
“I… I played the hero card again, and look where it got me. I should have listened to you, and shouldn’t have gone back into that suite myself. Now, I won’t even be able to help you beat him, Astarion. I’m too weak, and you said you needed my help to ascen-” Astarion pressed a long finger to her lips and shook his head slowly.
“He’s dead. You’ve been out for a little over a day.”
Wait… If Cazador was dead, then… Ereldra pushed against Astarion’s chest, nearly sliding him off the bed. “Are you- did you- Astarion, we talked about this, how it could be dangerous. How you wouldn’t be you anymore. I didn’t want you to-” Smiling softly, Astarion sat up, righting himself again on the bed and facing Ereldra, who’d pushed herself back to the corner of the bed, against the wall.
He lifted his hands in surrender. “How little you think of me, love! I didn’t do it. I just… Stabbed him until he was a messy pulp, and thennn… I decapitated him. Quite satisfying, honestly.”
Ereldra blinked, staring owlishly at him. “You… You didn’t complete the ritual.”
“I didn’t.”
“And the 7,000 spawn?”
“Free.”
“... Your siblings?”
“Also free… Well, if Petras figured out how to find the passage into the Underdark. He’s not exactly bright, you know.” When she still looked confused and a tad horrified, he continued, “I directed my siblings to lead the spawn to the Underdark. It’s not a permanent solution to leave them unattended, but it’s the safest place for them at the present moment.”
He’d… After the last tenday of plotting and scheming to take over the ritual, Astarion had just… Skipped it. Killed Cazador and released the spawn, without her help. An overwhelming warmth enveloped her stilled heart to the point where she swore for a second that it let out a slow, pulsing beat. Gods, it was going to take a long time before she was used to that lack of sensation- and remembering to breathe if she wanted to talk. But that would come later. Now, she was overwhelmed at Astarion’s ability to bypass centuries’ worth of conditioning and cruelty to… To what, stay the same? To stay the same, when he was on the precipice of never having to fear anyone again? She had so many questions, but only one came to her lips.
“Why?”
Astarion arched a perfectly shaped silver eyebrow. “Why what, love?”
“You’ve been raving about ascension for days. You even stopped speaking to me for half of them over it- wouldn’t even kiss me goodnight because you said, and I quote, I was acting like ‘a miserable wretch’ that ‘didn’t want you to have everything you deserved’. What changed?”
Astarion winced at her recall of his past words and looked down at his hands as they played with a small tear in his pant leg. Knowing him, it’d be mended by morning, whenever that was. It wasn’t lost on Ereldra that she had absolutely no idea what time it was, or what time of day, even. Another moment passed before Astarion looked up to meet her gaze.
“You. You changed me. I don’t need ascension, or the false sense of security it would have provided. I need you. On… On the way to the dungeon, I was ready to sacrifice all of it for myself, but after seeing all the spawn we discovered the day before- seeing the look in Sebastian’s eyes, overhearing the sh*t our companions were spewing about me-”
“What sh*t? Who?”
His shoulders slumped. “Gale wouldn’t stop going on about how selfish I was for choosing to ascend- that because of the scars on my back, it was likely I’d sacrifice myself in the process, leaving behind a cruel, soulless husk. In another life, perhaps I’d have done it. Said “f*ck it” to anyone standing in my way- but ascension would have only led to endless paranoia and treating you like I was treated for so long. I… I couldn’t lose the one thing holding me steady, darling.”
“I…” Gods, she loved him. She’d never said the words, and neither had he, but it was true. She’d deal with Gale’s sh*ttalking later, but for now? Now, she crawled across the bed and threw her arms around Astarion’s shoulders, sobbing into the crook of his neck as his hands came up to rub her back.
“You know I’d have killed you if you ascended, right?”
“And I’d have deserved it. I meant what I said at Moonrise. You deserve something real. Ascending would have taken it from you- would have taken me from you. The only downside is that I still couldn’t-” He cut off, taking a steading breath as his fingers tunneled into her hair.
“You couldn’t what?”
“I couldn’t save you from this.” Pulling back, he lightly traced her cool cheek, his thumb brushing over the elongated canine that worried her bottom lip. “I never wanted this for you, selfish as I am.”
Ereldra shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll mourn it all eventually. At the moment, the prospect of bothering you forever feels sort of… Nice.” Astarion pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.
“Lovely. You can start bothering me tomorrow. For now, you’re getting a bath and some damned sleep.” She pouted.
“But-”
“No, dear,” he dragged her off the bed and walked backward towards the bathing tub, “You smell like you fell face-first into a vampire coven. Even my own perfume can’t cover that up. In the tub with you.”
After helping her scrub her tired limbs, Astarion helped her into a soft nightgown he’d found for her in one of the Lower City shops, then guided her to the bed. Seating himself behind her, he deftly braided her pewter hair before tucking them both under the blankets.
“I don’t think we’ve ever shared an actual bed,” he mused, staring at the ceiling, his hands cradling the back of his head, “It certainly feels better than cuddling in a damned tent.”
Ereldra snuggled up against him, resting her head on his chest. “I don’t know how we’ll trance this close together,” she murmured with a yawn, “How will that work?”
“We’ll sleep,” he mused, “You need much deeper rest than trancing can provide, I’m afraid- and after the day I’ve had, I think I do, too.”
He kissed the top of her head before reaching over to pinch out the candle flame on the night stand. “Now, what do we say to our loving partner who used up his entire evening after killing his tormentor to care for his little love? By all means, he deserved every ounce of sulking he could handle, and yet, he took care of his precious little drow instead. We can't let such a selfless act go unnoticed.”
“Goodnight, Astarion.” she mumbled, poking him in the ribs. He wasn't ticklish, but a girl could dream.
“Ah, let’s try again. Repeat after me, dear- thank you for helping me, it was very kind.”
Ereldra rolled her eyes- he was never going to let her live that down, and now, she couldn’t even die… Well, naturally, at least.
“Darling, I’m waiting…”
Ereldra pushed herself up to look down at him. He gazed up at her with wide eyes, then bit his lower lip- Damnit, he knew she couldn't resist that. When she sputtered, his expression shifted into a smirk. Even when he was being a smug bastard, he was devastatingly beautiful. Leaning down, she brushed her lips to his, smiling as she felt his fingers curl around her waist to pull her flush against him. It had been months since he’d touched her like this. Was he ready for something like that again? No, that was a tomorrow question, even if the dull ache pooling in her core begged her to lean into the feeling. Pulling away, she whispered against his lips,
“Thank you for helping me, it was very kind.”
