Still Breathing, Despite Everything - embersofamber (2024)

Chapter 1: I've got a long road ahead.

Chapter Text

Chapter One: I've got a long road ahead.

The first breath of air Ristah sucked into her lungs upon regaining consciousness, was the sweetest of her life, thus far. Not because the air was of a fine quality, it was actually a little thick and humid. Nor was it because it bore a sweet scent of flowers or was a particularly perfumed wind. Rather, it was rife with smoke from the fires that burned all around her, as well as other strange, unidentifiable odors from the wreckage of the ship that crashed while she was still aboard it. No, it was sweet and good for the simple reason that it proved she had somehow survived, yet again, the endlessly cursed hand fate seemed determined to keep dealing her.

Giving herself permission to spend another minute to lie still in the dirt, she carefully took stock of her body, further relieved she wasn’t in any noticeable pain and had no broken bones or other serious injuries to contend with. At least that was some good news, even if all the other details of her current reality were catastrophically awful. Gritting her teeth, she slowly got to her feet, absently brushing sand off the fine ceremonial silk gown and intricately embroidered outer robe she wore, certain she looked as battered and soiled as she felt.

Turning in a circle to survey her surroundings, a giddy bubble of triumph rose and burst out of her mouth in the form of elated, (and slightly hysterical, if she was honest) laughter. Throwing her arms wide, she tilted her face up toward the cloudless blue sky and basked in the warming rays of sunlight caressing her skin. The circ*mstances were sh*tty, but also wonderful and gloriously terrifying, because she was still alive. A victory, by any measure.

“Curse you, universe!” She screamed toward the sky in unabashed, celebratory glee. “I still draw breath, you wretched bitch! Do your worst!”

“I don’t know if the impact has further rattled your brain, but you might not want to issue such a defiant, all-encompassing challenge. There may be some bored or vindictive powers that decide to answer you, in a less than pleasant way.”

Startled, Ristah whirled, relaxing when she saw the speaker was one of her briefly allied companions from the ship, a fellow captive. Shadowheart, if she remembered correctly. Shaking her head with a smile, Ristah turned to face the burning husk of the Nautiloid ship when she answered.

“It’s….just been quite a while since I breathed the free air, and despite this,” she said with a sweep of her hand toward the wreckage. “I’m very thankful for the privilege.” Grinning, she walked over to where the other woman stood and looked her over in concern. “Are you well? No injuries or anything you need some help with?”

Scrutinizing her as though puzzled, Shadowheart shook her head. “No, I’m fine, surprisingly enough. Somehow, you succeeded in getting us out of there, and we’re still here to tell the tale. Thank you again for freeing me, I know you didn’t have to.” Shadowheart watched Ristah’s face take on the same expression of angry resolve she had worn on the ship, before she squared her shoulders.

“I did have to, for the same reason I stopped to check every pod we passed; I could never leave another person in captivity, or behind to die. Not if there were any means to save them.” Stepping away from Shadowheart, she gestured to a path that led up from the water. “Should we try to see if there’s a settlement nearby? In case any of those tentacled monstrosities survived, I don’t think we should linger here.”

“Yes, I agree,” Shadowheart replied, falling into step next to Ristah. They passed by a gaping hole in the side of the ship. “What do you think we…”

Ristah gasped loudly, falling to her knees, then all fours to support herself, her body suddenly crackling with electric energy that had Shadowheart taking a hasty step away from her. She frowned when it burst out and into the ship, fingers of chained lightning forking out in several directions. Quickly standing up as though nothing strange had just occurred, Ristah shrugged with an uncomfortable look.

“Sorry about that. Wild magic can be…very unpredictable, even at the best of times. I’ve had a connection to it for most of my life, but it’s behaving quite differently than before. I assume it’s due to the things we have in our heads currently. But don’t worry,” she added reassuringly, “it likely won’t hurt you.” With clenched jaw, she started walking again, muttering under her breath. “It’s me it usually likes to muck about with.”

Intrigued, Shadowheart peered over at her with a small smile. “Wild magic? What manner of connection, if I may ask?”

“I’m a sorcerer, actually.” Brushing back a lock of hair, Ristah sighed when they hit a dead end, their path completely blocked by burning debris. “I suppose we’ll have to try and find a way through the ship.”

“Looks like it,” Shadowheart agreed. “I wonder if there were any other survivors, or if we just got incredibly lucky?”

“I don’t know, but if it is due to luck, let’s hope it holds.” Ristah shivered when another wave of psychic energy slithered across her mind. Sharing a look with Shadowheart, Ristah was able to feel that she experienced it too, felt the other woman’s fear and uncertainty as though it were her own. Shadowheart smiled suddenly, pointing to something, or several somethings, in fact. Intellect Devourers, all dead and still smoldering.

“Looks like your wild magic was looking out for us, Ristah. That’s five less of those horrible little things to contend with.”

“Well, look at that,” she said with a small laugh, stepping out of the other side of the ship they emerged from and back onto a dirt path again. “It is nice when the magic works to my advantage. I wish I could say it always did, but that would be a lie. There was this one particular time when….”

Her voice trailed off just as she came to a very abrupt stop, her mouth falling open and eyes wide while she stared as though entranced. Concerned, Shadowheart touched her arm to recapture her attention. Ristah turned a fearful, uncertain look to the woman beside her, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“Can you see an elf waiting on the path ahead, or is that just my mind playing tricks on me?”

Narrowing her eyes, Shadowheart looked at the person in question and answered in a voice just as hushed. “Of course I see him, why wouldn’t I?”

Ristah gave a nervous laugh. “No reason, really, it’s just all the strangeness from the tadpole, I suppose. It has me doubting everything. Since he is real, as you say, do you, uh...think him friend or foe?”

Shadowheart absently stroked the grip on the weapon she had scavenged from the wreckage. “Hope for friend, but I think best be prepared for foe.”

Nodding and squaring her shoulders, Ristah glided forward with all the practiced grace she had spent most of her life honing, walking as though she were dressed in the finest gown, not one that was torn, crumpled and slightly dirty. She flashed a good-natured smile at the elf that she could now see in detail, not sure exactly how she should deal with the situation before her.

Friendly? Interested? Relaxed, certainly, that always made people more eager to trust you when they felt you had nothing to hide. He looked like he could be a bit of a flirt, so maybe she could try that too. To prove beyond any doubt that her intentions were not nefarious, she decided to begin with charm alone, her usual preference.

“Greetings to you, sir. Out for a stroll on this lovely day?”

She watched a strange, incredulous expression cross his face before she felt Shadowheart staring and turned to look at her, raising her brows in question at her baffled look.

“What?” She asked self-consciously, smoothing her rumpled silk in a nervous gesture. “Being abducted, then falling from the sky is surely no excuse for poor manners or incivility. We aren’t savages, after all.”

Having recovered from the surprise of the woman’s unexpected greeting, the elf smiled engagingly, his eyes sweeping curiously over her expensive looking, unusual attire. It lent credence to her being a person of rank and importance.

“I quite agree. I can see you are clearly a lady of some refinement, and I applaud your...exemplary manners. I wonder if you might oblige me and come kill another of those awful little beasts from the ship, just in that bush there. I saw you kill those others, and very quickly too, so...” He gestured, smiling even more encouragingly when she nodded.

“Very well, if you really need my assistance, I’ll see if I can target it before it spots me.” She wondered why he hadn’t bothered to just kill it himself, but gave a mental shrug. Perhaps he was the equivalent of a helpless elf damsel, in need of a heroic rescuing. That thought had her suppressing a laugh as she crept forward as stealthily as she could.

“Oh, I do need your help,” he purred in a voice that was almost seductive, waving a hand toward the bush in question. “You seem wonderfully capable.”

Hesitating only briefly, she took several more light, creeping steps toward the shrubbery he indicated. His next movement caught her by surprise, grabbing and spinning her so her back was against his chest, allowing him to trap her with the strength of his arms.

Grunting in sudden anger at his duplicity, and embarrassed over how she had fallen for it so easily, she hooked one slippered foot around the back of his leg and tugged, making them both tumble to the ground from the loss of balance. He rolled, pinning her beneath him with insulting ease, a dagger pressed to her throat and smiling darkly down at her when she made an enraged sound. She stared up into red eyes full of malice, in a pale, handsome face. His hair was a curious shade between silver and grey, and she wanted nothing more than to blast the bastard off of her. Energy hummed through her when she started to vibrate with it.

“Keep your distance,” he warned in a sharp, threatening tone to the dark-haired woman watching them.

Seeing as Ristah didn’t appear to be in any real danger, judging by her reaction, Shadowheart decided to let the sorcerer handle the matter for herself unless she asked for assistance. Crossing her arms, she gave the elf a speculative look.

“You know, it’s probably a very bad idea for you to provoke my companion as you are. She might…” Shadowheart flinched at the sound of a loud pop and stared down at what Ristah had turned into, just managing to stifle an undignified giggle at the surprising sight. “Do something unexpected, like that,” she finished, unable to keep the amusem*nt from her voice.

“What in the hells?” The elf said in bafflement, staring down at the pure white sheep beneath him, sporting the same startling blue eyes as the woman he had just been looking at.

“Oh, for pity’s saaa aaaa aaaa aaaake,” Sheep-Ristah grumbled, her last word coming out as more of a bleat than a spoken word. She whispered what sounded like the words of a spell, then he was looking at the woman again.

Moving the dagger slightly away from her neck, his brows furrowed thoughtfully when their minds connected. He saw rich, opulent rooms as part of a lavish estate, and flashes of faces, a man, older, smiling affectionately down at her. He felt her frustration and anger over her current predicament, followed by her iron determination to free herself, deciding immediately that she might be a useful ally to him, as they had the same goal. Time to turn on the charm and win her over.

“Which is your true form, woman or….sheep? I must say, I do quite prefer this one. If you really are an enchanted sheep, you should pay someone to help you keep this body, it’s so very...nice, you know.”

She glared up at him angrily. “I’m a woman, of course! That was just...a bit of wild magic having a say. Too bad it didn’t decide to save me from a mouthy, deceitful rake, eager to flash his little dagger at every unsuspecting woman that crosses his path.”

His smile turned into a nasty smirk. “There’s nothing little about my dagger, I assure you, and it sinks very deep when I want it to. But I’ll try to keep it sheathed so it doesn’t frighten your sheepish little heart.” Hopping nimbly to his feet, the pale elf extended a hand to help her up, smirking again when she eyed it warily.

“I do apologize, it seems we got off to a bit of a rough start. I’m Astarion, I saw you on the ship too. I had to be sure you weren’t controlled by the mindflayers. I’d like to join you, since it seems you’re also set on finding a way to be rid of these tadpoles we carry.”

Accepting his help up finally, she stared at him for a long, silent moment, making him raise a brow in question. “Astarion,” she murmured, seemingly deep in thought. “I….that is...just...um, oh...never mind….” Shaking her head, her expression hardened while her blue eyes grew cold. “Anyway, I’m Ristah, that’s Shadowheart.”

She paused, wincing when their tadpoles connected once more, a confusing jumble of thoughts and images flowing between the three of them before it ebbed away to nothing again. Rubbing at the blossoming headache from the tadpole and her own wild magic surges, Ristah sighed wearily, her shoulders slumping from fatigue as the adrenaline that had been coursing through her began to fade.

“Let’s get going,” Shadowheart urged. “See if we can’t find a healer right away, or someone that knows how to get these things out of our heads, assuming that’s even possible.”

“It’s must be possible, it has to be,” Ristah replied with a stubborn look. “I have things to do, places I need to get to, urgently, so let’s make haste. No chance we survived all this just to be thwarted by these damnable worms.” She strode ahead confidently, with Shadowheart right behind. Astarion followed them with a thoughtful look and an ever-present gleam of cunning in his red eyes.

~O~

Rubbing again at the ache in her temples that had grown more painful as the hours passed, Ristah glanced around at the small cluster of people that had somehow all come together since the crash. There were a total of five of them, Shadowheart, herself and Lae’zel, the female Githyanki warrior that helped her and Shadowheart fight for their freedom on the Nautiloid ship. They had also acquired a male human wizard, named Gale, in addition to Astarion, the elf. Taking a short respite to eat and drink a little something after all their exertions, the unlikely allies sat in weary silence.

They had already been forced to fight their way through several skirmishes, before landing in the middle of a larger battle between goblins and the people at the Druid settlement where they were hoping to find a healer. So far, all they had managed to find was a lot of desperate people, all clambering for help. Any help, including theirs.

Surprisingly, she had found her former skills in a social setting, the ability to charm and persuade people, a very great asset in helping her find out the information they all needed. How to go about finding a way to cleanse the parasites in their brains. Shadowheart had even complimented her on her cunning, naming her silver-tongued. Unfortunately, they hadn’t yet found anyone who could actually help them, except for possibly the Druid’s missing leader, Halsin, or so they were told. He had been taken captive by goblins, and if they wanted his help, they were going to have to get into the goblin stronghold and liberate him. Somehow.

Apparently, nothing is ever allowed to be easy, Ristah thought irritably. She turned her head to look down on the water below the large, cliff-side rocks they sat on. She longed for a cool, refreshing bath and a long sleep on something more inviting than the hard ground. At least she had successfully bartered with the Druid grove’s merchant for quite a few necessary items, to make the camping that was to be in their immediate future a little more comfortable.

“We have all mentioned where we hail from, Ristah,” Gale said with a practiced, friendly smile. “All except you. Care to share where’s home, and perhaps a little something about yourself? Getting to know one another better can only work in our favor while we journey together.”

Turning to look at Gale, she pressed her lips together to hide her displeasure, not about to share anything overly personal with unpredictable strangers, not yet, at least. But she had to give the nosy wizard a little something to satisfy his obvious curiosity. That, she could easily do, as a small sprinkle of truth could go a long way. She gave him her best false smile.

“I’m Baldurian, the same as Astarion. I come of a noble family, and I’ve lived in the upper city there with my father for most of my life. I was on my way home when I was taken, snatched off the street and into the same Nautiloid, mindflayer nightmare we’re all trapped in.”

“Really, the same as Astarion, you say?” The elf asked with a mocking smirk, voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms where he leaned back against the rocky wall and examined her with a critical eye. “I don’t believe we move in the same circles at all, little lamb. You wouldn’t last a day among my acquaintances.” His smile took on a dangerous edge, even while his voice turned teasing. “Time to toughen up, darling. The sooner the better.”

She stood to her feet, her expression cool and unaffected, her smile becoming just as dangerous as his. “Think what you please. Those that underestimate me, do so at their peril, and the person who tests me won’t live to regret their mistake.”

Astarion chuckled in amusem*nt, the first faint glint of approval in his eyes. “Well. Perhaps you have a bit of bite after all, like an adorable little pup, and aren’t quite as harmless as you seem on the surface. Your command of battle magic certainly isn’t, I’ll give you that. How very delightful.”

Gale smiled, looking between them, pulling out a leather-bound book, quill and ink from the small satchel he carried, setting them out with the book on his lap to write. “I think I’ll mark down the rather remarkable events that have transpired this day, while it’s all still fresh. If we survive, it might be useful to look back on everything at a later time.”

Shaking her head at the wizard’s excitement, Ristah smiled at him more genuinely, moving to stand nearer, to see what he might write. “I suppose it could end up an adventure tale, or even a history book. What shall you call it, Gale, Tadpole Trials? Or perhaps The Ilithid Chronicles?”

He smiled to himself and shrugged, writing while he talked. “I’m sure I could think of an appropriately grand title, if it came down to it.” It was several minutes later when he lifted his head to find Ristah looking very pale and obviously distressed. He frowned when she pointed a shaking finger down at his book.

“Is...is that today’s date, truly?”

After looking to confirm what he had written, he nodded. “Yes, today is Twenty, Eleasis. It’s not really surprising if you lost track of time since you were abducted. But is something the matter? You seem rather upset…”

Clasping her hands together to still their trembling, she looked away and locked eyes with Astarion, who was watching her with the curious, somewhat calculating look she had come to expect from him during their brief time together. She closed her eyes and released an unsteady breath, swiftly regaining her composure and mastering her emotions before she smiled more normally at Gale.

“No, it’s nothing, really. I...had quite an urgent appointment to keep, but no matter now, it’s gone past.” She walked over to Shadowheart and waved at Lae’zel, who was sitting further away from everyone. “Shall we carry on? Only a few hours of daylight left, and we still need to find a decent spot to set up our camp for the night.”

A little more rested than before, the intrepid travelers set off again.

~O~

Before the sun went down, they had found a likely spot to set up their camp. Next to the river, but with trees and forest all around, it provided plenty of wood for their campfire. Shadowheart was the only one that had managed to acquire a tent from somewhere, but Ristah had insured they each had a bedroll, at least. Though Shadowheart offered to share her tent with Ristah, the sorcerer declined, choosing to bed down around the fire, the same as the other three.

After Gale and Lae’zel got the fire roaring, Ristah had hurried off behind a large tree and changed into clothing she had bartered for, a serviceable blouse, with trousers and boots more suited to trekking through dirt and muck. Bundling up the silk gown and fine robe she had been wearing, she marched straight to the crackling fire and pitched them on top, watching them catch alight and burn with satisfaction in her blue eyes.

“Those garments seemed of a very fine quality. Is it not wasteful to burn them rather than use them or sell them?” Lae’zel asked with a disapproving frown.

Ristah shook her head, crossing her arms while she continued to watch the burning bunch of fabric. “It was a connection to something I want no reminder or part of, that’s all. I can easily acquire gold through bartering or selling anything useful we come across. Anyway, do we need to take turns keeping watch through the night? Or is that unnecessary, considering how few beasts or people there seem to be around here?”

Standing, Lae’zel tossed a handful of twigs into the flames, turning to regard Ristah. “I sleep lightly, so I think a watch would only serve to tire out the ones kept awake. I’m sure we will all be on our guard against intruders, even during rest.”

“I agree,” Gale said, sitting down on his bedroll and rubbing his eyes. “This thing in my head seems to keep me in a half-aware state, even in sleep. What do you think, Astarion?”

With his hands laced behind his head, the elf lay stretched out on his bedroll, looking up at the bright stars. “I’ll go along with whatever the consensus is. I am also quite aware, even in trance, so a watch likely isn’t needed.”

“Well, I suppose that’s settled then,” Ristah mused, her focus still on the flames. “I’ve never camped or slept outside before. I hope I’ll get used to it quickly.” Tilting her head back, she admired the stars. “It’s certainly beautiful under the open night sky.”

“Yes, it is that,” Gale agreed, looking up. “Even in difficult circ*mstances, there are beauties all around, if we only take time to see them.”

The wizard turned his gaze to Ristah, admiring the soft smile and look of rapturous wonder on her pretty face. Flicking his eyes to the elf near him, he noticed Astarion’s red eyes were also avidly watching the young sorcerer, the rather surprising and dynamic woman who had somehow become their de facto leader.

As though aware she was under scrutiny, her eyes met Gale’s and her smile became a combination of amused and alluring. Hiding his own intrigued amusem*nt over just how sharply intelligent and alert Ristah was, he found himself actually looking forward to getting to know his new acquaintances and fellow members of their little guild of the worm, more intimately.

Sliding off her shoes, Ristah laid out on her bedroll and curled up on her side, readying herself for sleep. “Nite, all. Here’s hoping we wake up rested and ready to face whatever the day brings.”

“Hmm, sleep well, little lamb,” Astarion drawled. “If I poke you during the night, it’s just to stop you from snoring.”

Turning over, she gave the elf an incredulous look. “That’s presumptuous. I don’t snore, thank you very much!”

“I certainly do,” Gale admitted, looking across at Ristah and winking. “I offer my apologies in advance.”

“If you will all cease your chatter, our chances of getting any rest will greatly improve,” Lae’zel grumbled, stretching out on her own bedroll.

Astarion smirked at the sorcerer. “If anyone struggles to sleep, I’m sure Ristah will be a very great help to you.”

With brows drawn together in confusion, Ristah held the elf’s teasing eyes, knowing he was making fun of her, but unable to figure out exactly how. She was unwilling to give him the satisfaction of asking him to explain, but couldn’t resist her own curiosity. She sighed.

“I’m sure I shouldn’t ask, but I must know… How do you think I would be a help to someone having difficulty sleeping?”

His mouth twisted in a crooked smile before he answered. “Surely you know it’s a tried and true method for the sleepless to count sheep, don’t you, darling? I’ve come to think that really is your truest form.”

Her frustration over his endless personal digs and relentless teasing grew. She didn’t realize what she intended to do until she did it, reaching out with her tadpole toward his.

Go f*ck yourself, Astarion, and bloody well leave me in peace!

The elf’s smile grew to a grin, and he replied in the same manner.

f*cking is always best when done with a partner, pet. Not you, of course… I’ve never been desperate enough to dally with livestock, but I’m sure you’ll find others who don’t object to that sort of thing. Gale, for instance...

More annoyed than before, she turned over, giving the elf her back and ignored him in an attempt to sleep. It took the better part of the night before she finally managed to drift off.

~O~

Standing next to Shadowheart two days later, Ristah crossed her arms and watched Lae’zel beat the absolute sh*t out of the practice dummy she had erected on the very first day they set up their camp. The Githyanki warrior was nothing if not disciplined, spending a great deal of her free time honing her skills. Shadowheart nudged the sorcerer to get her attention and Ristah turned to follow the other woman down toward the river, where they planned to bathe.

“I’m just glad she’s on our side,” Ristah quipped. “I suppose I’m also a little jealous of her coordination and strength, and yours too. I’ve always had a very uncooperative body and two left feet, as far as any fighting goes. If not for my affinity for magic, I would be absolutely useless.”

“That’s not really true,” Shadowheart replied with a smile. “You have an astonishing ability to talk just about any person or beast into doing what you want them to, and I bet that was the case even before you got the added little boost that seems to come from the tadpole. I can certainly see your noble raising in many of your skills. I bet you would have been in some prominent position of leadership in Baldur’s Gate, if not for this unfortunate turn our lives have all taken.”

Setting down her little bag of clean clothes, Ristah smiled wistfully while she started to disrobe. “I’m not really sure what I might have done if I hadn’t been abducted. Likely whatever my wonderful father chose for me, as I live to please him in all things.” Her smile faded and she looked away. “I hope we still have a future to look forward to. We’ll just have to wait and see how all of this tadpole business turns out, I suppose.”

Finally naked and with her hair already unbound, Ristah waded a few feet into the calmer part of the river. “Gods! It’s like needles of ice! I didn’t think it felt this cold yesterday.”

Unwinding the last of her long braid, Shadowheart ventured in near her, wincing and nodding in agreement. “You’re right, it does seem much colder. Strange.” Seeing Ristah standing unmoving, Shadowheart’s lips curved up in a small smile.

“Have you turned into an ice statue, now? Shall I go call Gale to come and use a fire spell on you?”

Ristah looked back at Shadowheart and snickered. “My frozen body is now a lethal weapon, my nipples have turned into twin daggers. If I hug anyone, I’ll slay them instantly!”

Shadowheart laughed, nearly slipping on the slick river bottom before she recovered her balance. Kneeling down in the water, she started splashing handfuls of it onto her shoulders, beginning to get somewhat used to the cold.

Looking back at her, Ristah also knelt and started to wet herself as well, wincing in discomfort. “Do you think we really need to wash our hair, or should we perhaps put if off and hope for warmer weather and water tomorrow?”

“Do as you like,” Shadowheart shrugged. “I want to get the goblin blood off me, so I’ll bear the cold to accomplish that.”

“sh*t, you’re right,” the sorcerer agreed, clenching her jaw to stop it chattering. “I think I’m going to do this very quickly.” Wading further out, she ducked fully under the water, letting it wash her while she massaged her scalp to remove all the dirt and dried blood. Several minutes later, she walked out and stood on the river bank, wrapping her toweling tightly around her while she shivered violently.

“Hells, hells, hells!” She shrieked, trying to dry herself as quickly as possible.

Joining her on the bank, Shadowheart dried herself, looking over at Ristah musingly. “I think you have the palest skin I’ve ever seen on a woman. Does that run in your family?”

With her underpants and trousers on, Ristah wound the towel around her wet hair and started to fasten the hooks on her corset top she often wore around camp, talking while she continued dressing. “My father has brown hair and very tan skin, so you wouldn’t know it if you looked at us together. But I inherited my coloring, my hair, my eyes, all from my mother, apparently. She died right after giving birth to me, so I never knew her, but Father often said I was a perfect copy of her, in appearance. I do agree I look quite a lot like her portrait Father had done of her just after they married.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, but your father must have taken comfort in having you to remind him of his wife.” Shadowheart blotted her own wet hair until it stopped dripping and began to dress.

Sitting on the grass, Ristah pulled on her shoes and started stuffing her dirty things into her bag to carry back to camp. “Thank you. And yes, I think he did take comfort in that. He never remarried, so I know he truly loved my mother, as he remained devoted to her memory. He was such a good, kind father to me when I was a child, and I have always adored him completely. Truly the best man I have ever known. Everything I am, everything I know, is all due to him.”

Shadowheart turned to look at Ristah, her brows furrowed thoughtfully. “You’re very lucky to have had such a charmed upbringing, you know. I hope you realize that.”

With eyes full of pain, Ristah looked away, off toward the setting sun. “Yes, I do realize it, I always have. I sometimes wonder if the gods did it on purpose. Gave me a charmed, perfect life as a child, to justify all the misery they poured over me since the moment I became an adult.” Standing, she picked up her things and shrugged, her expression hardening. “I suppose I’ll never know. See you later.”

Ristah strode away, leaving Shadowheart puzzling over what she had just learned about her new friend, though in a rather vague way. One thing was certain, the sorcerer wasn’t lying about her suffering and pain, whatever the cause may have been. It was there, plain to see in her eyes, and like recognized like. Pressing her lips together, Shadowheart gathered her own things and walked back to camp.

~O~

Chapter 2: Careful, I bite.

Chapter Text

~O~

Sitting quiet and still on the sandy riverbank with her arms wrapped around her bent legs, Ristah watched the dark, rushing water of the river Chionthar before her with glazed, unseeing eyes. It was nearly half of a tenday she had spent camping together with her new allies, and they were all sleeping. All except for her. Sleep never came to her easily, not with so much from her former life to turn her dreams to nightmares, even before the tadpole. Now, with it constantly writhing around her skull, it almost seemed pointless to try. Her recent dream visitor might be handsome and charming, and seem to want to help her, but she didn’t trust him either. There wasn’t anyone she really trusted, not anymore.

How had her life ever come to this? Sitting in a makeshift camp in some middle of nowhere place, along the Sword Coast of Faerûn. Surrounded by people that were still mostly strangers, but that was nothing new. Hadn’t she always felt like her life was just one big performance, that she portrayed a charming, sought after character, or told people what she knew they wanted to hear?

Having worn a false face for so long, she wasn’t sure who she might really be underneath everything. When she tried to be herself and take a chance, it had ended down a luckless path, doomed to an existence of misery if she hadn’t escaped it. It felt as though she were just an amusing doll for cruel, sad*stic gods to poke and prod at, to twist for their own sick pleasure. She glowered at the water, pitching a stone at it in helpless anger and watching it sink.

“Curse the wretched gods,” she muttered under her breath, mulishly. “When did they ever do anything for me? Never. f*ck them all.”

An exaggerated gasp right behind her had her turning her head in surprise, frowning when she saw who it was standing there in the shadows, watching her. An enigmatic smile curved the elf's lips.

“What a shocking thing, to discover we actually share an opinion, my noble little lamb. I think something truly awful must have happened since I began observing you. You, who at first always seemed to be so optimistic and...kind,” he said with an unpleasant sneer.

“To suddenly form so bitter an outlook, an event has occurred more than just the tadpoles we all share. If I had to guess, I would say it is almost certainly related to that missed appointment you mentioned to Gale, on the day we met. I noticed you’ve been quite different ever since, almost...sad?”

Tilting his head, he smiled invitingly, his expression the very picture of interest and solicitous concern. “Why don’t you unburden yourself and share your tragic story with me? I have a minute or two free, and young as you are, I can’t imagine it would take much longer than that for you to relate it.”

Sitting down beside her, he lifted a brow and gave her an expectant look, as though he thought she would be eager to do as he asked. She shook her head in amazed disbelief.

“You think I want to unburden myself to someone that would enjoy my pain, someone that despises me? Why would I tell you anything, when you’ll just use it to mock me further?”

Astarion straightened the cuff of his sleeve with an unaffected air before he met her gaze and sighed in a put-upon manner, but his eyes were serious for once, surprisingly devoid of mockery.

“Come, come, don’t be so dramatic. I don’t know you quite well enough to despise you. Besides, you never know, I might even be sympathetic to whatever it is you’re going to tell me.”

“Sympathetic?” Ristah laughed humorlessly at the thought of his being sympathetic to anyone other than himself. She stretched out, lying on her back to stare up at the stars, picking out the familiar constellations her father taught her as a small child. Her eyes filled with sudden tears at the reminder of him, that she quickly blinked away. The heaviness in her chest brought a fresh stab of pain to her heart, making her sigh before looking over to find Astarion watching her with furrowed brows.

Annoyed over his almost constant criticism and the general disapproval he had subjected her to over the past several days, she was in the mood to be a touch nasty back. Copying his supercilious smirk, she adopted his attitude and mannerisms in an almost perfect mimic, even imitating his inflections and the way he said certain words.

“If you want to hear a story, Astarion, darling, I can certainly give you one, but not about me, that would be boring. You need a more interesting subject. What’s your preference? Most definitely not something sentimental or with any revolting romance or heroic acts. No….” She snapped her fingers and sat up, as with sudden insight.

“I believe I know exactly what you want to hear, a tale of cruelty, or possibly even a story of revenge?” Tilting her head, she pursed her lips in thought, then smiled, turning to look at him.

“Probably not quite your usual fare, but how about this short one? Once upon a time there was a little boy. He was quiet, sweet, and so very beautiful, the pride of his otherwise unremarkable family. One day, a man happened to pass by and see the boy at play in front of his home, and as soon as he saw the boy, he wanted him for his very own. Being the cunning creature he was, he came and presented himself to the boy’s family, befriending them, lavishing them with gifts and earning their favor. Before very much time passed, the family became fully addicted to the luxuries the man showered them with, needing more and more and more to be happy , until they were completely indebted to him. All by design, of course.”

Ristah pushed back a lock of her hair, hooking it behind her ear and then continued. “The man declared he would absolve the debt of the entire family, wipe it completely clean and give them a fresh start. All they had to do, in turn, was give him their dearest boy. The father agreed immediately, relieved he would not be forced to go to debtor’s prison or be inconvenienced in any unpleasant way, and the man whisked the boy to his lair, gloating in triumph.” Darting a glance at the elf, she looked hurriedly away from his somewhat ironically amused smile, determined to finish her tale and not get distracted by him.

“Next, the man put the boy in a luxurious suite, with all the best toys for his play and amusem*nt, and the daintiest treats any child could ever wish to sup on, anticipating watching the lad at play. All was prepared, and the man sat in his grand, sumptuous chair, ready to feel the great pleasure of owning the beautiful boy, at last. Owning him was something the man had spent a great deal of time on, and devoted much effort to accomplish.” Looking at Astarion to gauge his reaction, but able to glean little from his continued slight smile, she pressed on.

“But to his dismay, the man discovered that watching the boy did not bring him pleasure at all. No! As soon as the boy became his property, the child became less beautiful, his play drab and uninteresting, his laughter dull, not the bright sound it had been before. His presence made the man sad and angry, and the man experienced neither pleasure or joy from that day. As time went by, the man became smaller and smaller, and the child grew larger and larger, eventually a giant. As a full grown man, the former child plucked up the tiny man, who was no bigger than an insect by then, and swallowed him down in one gulp.”

Turning her head, Ristah met Astarion’s gaze and held it. “Now, my question to you: what do you think the man’s name was?”

Tilting his head with the same indulgent, amused smile, he leaned nearer. “Was his name….” He narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “Greed?”

Surprised he knew the correct answer, Ristah stared in dumbfounded delight and laughed. “Yes! And the name of the child?”

Frowning, Astarion looked away briefly before he finally shook his head and gave a little shrug. “I feel like I should know the answer to that, but I really can’t recall. What was the name of the child?”

Her lips twisted in a crooked smile, surprised to realize just how much she was actually enjoying the elf’s company, and sighed inwardly at that thought before she answered him.

“The child’s name was Contentment, and the moral was that Contentment can’t be bought, only birthed from ones own heart, and wherever it flourishes, Greed withers away.”

With a considering look, Astarion reached out and wound a lock of Ristah’s wavy blonde hair around one of his fingers. He took note of her reaction to his nearness, all the little signs and the way her breath hitched and her heart raced. His smile was both knowing and inviting.

“A trite little moral homily, but perhaps you and I may still find an intriguing and desirable application, if we only twist it up a bit. Supposing I were Greed and you were Contentment... I would devour you, little lamb. Consume you until you grew weak and helpless from the experience and the great pleasure of it, drunk on it. You would soon come to crave me, I think. Would you like that? I’m certain you would.”

With her smile fading, she searched his gaze, feeling uncertain and even a little fearful, for reasons she didn’t want to think about or consider. “I’m...not entirely sure what it is you’re trying to say.”

Astarion smirked seductively, leaning nearer. “Oh, I think you know very well, pet, you have a quick and clever mind. And you certainly aren’t as naive and innocent as one might think on first acquaintance, Ristah. You smell of secrets and enticing layers I would very much enjoy peeling away. But perhaps that’s something for another time, something to….” He paused, his smile becoming even more alluring. “Anticipate?”

Sliding her hair off his finger, he stood gracefully, stretching with the same sinuous movement of a cat. She blushed and looked away when she realized she was staring at him in fascination, clenching her jaw at his amused laugh.

“Do go and get some sleep, little lamb, if you don’t want to be so exhausted you fall prey to something unfortunate. Something with sharp teeth.”

He sauntered off into the trees, quickly swallowed up by the darkness. Hurrying away to her own tent, Ristah laid down and tossed and turned, finally falling into a fitful, restless sleep. She stirred awake to Astarion looming over her, his cool breath flowing across her neck that he was almost pressed against. She stared up at him, wide-eyed with shock, her gaze locked to his.

“What,” she whispered, “are you doing, Astarion? Surely you don’t think anything I said earlier was an open invitation for you to join me in my bedroll?”

He winced, clearly uncomfortable at being caught doing something he shouldn’t, almost embarrassed, looking like he had a great deal to hide.

“sh*t,” he whispered, looking away, his brows furrowing.

On an insightful hunch, Ristah wrapped her fingers around his arm to prevent his escape, then used the tadpole to push into his mind. Entering his thoughts, she released a tremulous breath at the flood of feelings that overwhelmed her, along with his thoughts, his pain...and the knowledge of what he really was.

She searched his eyes, her heart immediately moved by his suffering he had gone to such lengths to conceal, wondering how he could stand it all so stoically.

“You’re in such pain. Why didn’t you tell me that you were so hungry? I would have...”

“What?” He asked abruptly, cutting her off. “Hurried to stake me? The foul blood sucker in your midst?” His expression grew desperate, pleading and apologetic. “I’m sorry, truly. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I’m so weak, so tired, I just need a little…”

“You need blood,” she finished, resting her free hand against his cheek. “I understand. You can take some of mine, enough to ease the hunger a bit, alright?”

His mouth fell open in surprise. “What, really? You’ll actually let me…?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice full of resolve. “Here, lie down beside me, Astarion, so you’re more comfortable.”

He quickly moved to comply, eager, turning toward her to pull her into his arms so he could reach her neck when she stopped him, a hand laid firmly against his chest. Astarion gave her a confused look until she extended her arm to him.

“From my wrist,” she clarified. “I’m rather protective of my neck, you understand. Go ahead, I’m ready.”

Needing no further prompting, he took her arm in a careful grip so as not to hurt her more than necessary and sank his fangs into the tender flesh of her wrist. He groaned in pure delight at the taste of her rich blood, the flavor and bouquet more complex and delightful than the very best wine he had ever tasted. Each suck filled his mouth with the hot, invigorating flow, every swallow lessened the constant ache of the hunger. Never had he experienced anything so….glorious.

It was almost like being reborn. Her blood was a miracle, a revelation, and he wanted to go on drinking from her forever. Only the firm shake of his shoulder and her voice near his ear snapped him out of the blood-lust frenzy he had nearly fallen into. Releasing her arm, he laid his head down beside hers, turning to stare into her soft, caring eyes. Was she really smiling at him with such a contented expression after letting him drink her blood? Madness!

“I can’t believe you let me do that. You’re amazing, and your blood...it’s incredible. So decadent and delectable, it fills me with a vigor and power such as I’ve never experienced before. I feel so...I don’t know...happy, I think. As I haven’t felt in...a very long time, if ever. Thank you, truly, for your gift to me.”

Her smile widened at his words before it turned teasing, almost a smirk when she extended her arm to him again. “Want the last little bit before the wounds close?”

“How could I possibly refuse such bounty?” His red-eyed gaze took on an answering playfulness before he nudged her wrist against his mouth again, his tongue licking gently, teasingly over her skin, gathering the few remaining drops of blood there. Feeling her heart-rate increase again at his touch, he held her gaze when he pressed a soft kiss against her pierced flesh.

Closing her eyes, she reached her free hand up to grip the amulet she always wore. She whispered the words of an unfamiliar spell, her body glowing in soft light that faded seconds later, her wounds healed and her body humming with renewed vitality. His brows rose in surprise.

“That seems a rather useful spell, some form of renewal, I take it?”

She nodded, laying her head down on her arm folded beneath her. “Yes, a healing cantrip, very helpful as I can use it as frequently as I need to. Speaking of that, how often will you need to feed from me? Every day, I assume? If so, I’ll go ahead and agree to that now. I won’t have you in pain and starving. Not when I can so easily be of use to you and take care of that. Does….that sound agreeable to you?”

Leaning up on one arm, he stared down at her with a frown, his brows furrowed while he tried to understand what she was telling him, while still caught in the euphoric high of her blood that filled him so incredibly and completely.

“Do you mean to say you want to feed me again? Not just this one time? I...don’t know what to say to so generous an offer, but...thank you. I never expected you’d be so, well, understanding. So reasonable and accepting of my condition.”

Ristah shook her head, her own brows furrowing with concern. “How could I hold it against you, when it was never your choice? You were forced, and the awful things you were made to feed from… I saw some of your memories, and I…”

She swallowed thickly and looked away, drawing in a shaky breath. She closed her eyes in obvious pain. “I know what that feels like, to have horrors forced on you, to be used. To scream for help or relief...endlessly...in a tiny corner of your mind where no one can ever hear, while your body is commanded by a cruel tormentor that delights in your suffering. No, I would never judge you,” she finished in a whisper. “Never.”

Well and truly robbed of speech by the entire experience and what she had just revealed to him, he stared down at her in silence. Some of the puzzle pieces of Ristah were beginning to come together in his mind, some of the images and feelings he had caught from her starting to make more sense. It seemed they had a great deal more in common than he had ever realized. He needed some time to reflect, to consider all that had transpired just that night.

Bending closer, he kissed her forehead with the lightest brush of his lips and breathed her in, her scent filling him just as her blood had. He pulled away and smiled when she met his gaze again, the first genuine, honest smile he had ever offered her.

“Thank you again, Ristah. You are a truly remarkable ally to have, and I won’t forget your gift to me, not ever. I’ll leave you to your rest now. Sweet dreams, darling.”

“I’m only too happy to help. Good night, Astarion.”

With his usual grace, he slipped stealthily out of her tent and off into the shadows. Ristah laid awake for some time after, musing over all that had happened over the past few days, and all the challenges that they still had yet to face.

~O~

Gale handed out the last of the bowls of the stew he had prepared for dinner that evening. They were all five of them gathered around the fire together, for once, instead of off in their separate spaces. There seemed to be a tired hopefulness regarding what they had learned of the tadpoles, particularly the unusual ones they all had, with some special magic that prevented them from transforming into mindflayers. He was curious and wanted to find out if the others had experienced any similar episodes to what he had.

“There was something I wanted to bring up,” he began, drawing all eyes to him while they ate. He smiled at each of his fellow campers and asked the question he had been mulling over. “Since we’re all together, I wondered if we might compare notes a bit. I’m sure each of us has been visited in our dreams by a being claiming to want to help us with our Ilithid problems. I just wondered what each of your thoughts are on what she said, as well as her advice to grow our power.”

Frowning, Ristah looked up from her bowl sharply. “What do you mean ‘she’? I’ve been visited by an extremely handsome male elf, with a voice I felt I could listen to for days. He was dressed in armor, like a valiant, knightly hero, and he wielded impressive powers while he fought against some type of enemy. To protect me, he claimed. But yours was a woman, Gale? What did she look like?”

The wizard’s brows furrowed thoughtfully, glad he had brought up the topic, and rested his arms against his knees. “An elf also, a high elf in fact, lovely but older. I had the impression of a wise woman. What about the rest of you?”

Lae’zel threw a bone on the fire after stripping away the meat. “My visitor was githyanki, much like Vlaakith in appearance. Her voice was inspiring yet soothing. I distrust all of it, especially the urging to use powers from the worm. That’s a mistake, the last thing any of us ought to do. We must resist until we can be purged of the parasite.”

Shadowheart spoke up next, appearing thoughtful. “My visitor was a male drow, also very attractive, the same as Ristah mentioned, and his voice was compelling. I enjoyed listening to him speak to me. As much as I hate to agree with Lae’zel, I must urge that we be cautious with this unknown entity until we know who or what we are dealing with, exactly.”

Gale turned his gaze toward the elf sprawled out across the grass beside Ristah, his head resting on one of his many cushions he had somehow acquired. “How about you, Astarion? What form did your visitor take?”

He glanced slyly at Ristah, then turned to Gale and shrugged. “If you were to take the little lamb beside me, and dress her in the scant garments of a brothel worker, you would have an approximation of my visitor.” He turned to Ristah and smirked. “You know, pet, we might try a little experiment and see if we can’t merge our dreams the same way we do our thoughts, then we could have quite the party.”

Ristah narrowed her eyes but couldn’t suppress her amused smile. “You’re lying, Astarion. What did your dream person really look like?”

He sat up with an offended look and pouted at her. “I told you, she looked very much like you.” He smirked and gave a quiet chuckle. “Well, perhaps you in very tight black leather, and after I had corrupted you a bit, but let’s not split hairs. Besides, what difference does it make what form our mysterious visitor takes? We know that whatever or whoever is behind it all is manipulating us, trying to coax us to go along with whatever goal its striving for.”

“It matters because it shows that he or she...it, is studying us. Learning our preferences, appearing to each of us in a form most likely to appeal to us or draw us in, claiming to help us, raising our sympathy. I don’t appreciate being manipulated,” Ristah said with a dark look. “And a seductive elf with an alluring voice won’t persuade me otherwise.”

Astarion sighed deeply with a disappointed look at her. “There goes my master plan for you. Must you always spoil my fun, pet?”

Ristah shrugged and took a sip of the wine Astarion was sharing with her. “ No, not always...” She grinned. “Only half the time, daaarling! ” She laughed at his annoyed scowl.

Shadowheart smiled at their antics. “You know, Astarion, you’ve really started to rub off on Ristah. I see far more of a mischievous, even cruel streak in her since she started spending more of her time in your company. You’ve only yourself to blame if you find her change unpleasant.”

Astarion tossed Scratch’s ball up in the air, then launched it down toward the river when the dog barked at him in excitement, not about to risk being slobbered on by the smelly creature. The dog ran after it and Astarion stretched out more comfortably again.

“Rubbing off on Ristah? Why, what an intriguing idea.” He stared at the woman beside him with a smile bordering on a leer, chuckling when she blushed and shoved at his arm in annoyance. He looked over at Shadowheart.

“I’ve been enjoying watching our little lamb become a bit more ruthless while taking on the world, of late. If any of that change is due to me, I’m only too glad to know I’ve influenced her. She’s my favorite little pet, currently, and far more interesting than any of you. Instead of blame, I believe I might actually congratulate myself.”

Handing the wine bottle to Astarion, Ristah stood and started gathering the dishes, preparing to take them and wash them by the river. She stopped beside Gale and discreetly slipped a ring into his hand, smiling when he looked up at her.

“It’s a suitable magic ring. You can eat that one,” she said in a quiet murmur, referring to the ravenous Netherese orb in his chest, only kept from exploding and killing them all by feeding it magical items. Since Gale had confessed his condition to all of them, Ristah and Shadowheart had made it their goal to see he was kept supplied with all the magical items he needed.

Smiling, he slipped it into his pocket and gently squeezed her arm. “Thank you, you’re always looking out for everyone here. It’s appreciated, Ristah.”

“Always happy to help.” She smiled brightly and carried the dishes away with her. Meeting Astarion’s eyes across the fire, Gale smiled and winked.

“Perhaps you aren’t rubbing off on her quite so much as you thought. There’s a kindness and caring at the core of who she is that I don’t think anything could fully snuff out.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” With wine bottle in hand, the vampire sauntered off toward the dark woods. The others soon went to find their bedrolls and the hopeful comfort of sleep.

~O~

Chapter 3: How delicious.

Chapter Text

~O~

“I told you it was a bad idea to open that barn door, but you just had to do it, didn’t you?” Shadowheart scowled at Ristah, sheathing her weapon and surveying the dead around them. The sorcerer winced and looked away in embarrassment, blushing to the roots of her fair hair.

“I’m sorry, I was just curious! It’s a fatal flaw I’ve never been able to overcome. I didn’t expect a bugbear and an ogre to…to...and I certainly didn’t realize they made those kinds of noises when engaged in...uh...well, anyway. Lesson learned.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for your curiosity,” Gale said with an encouraging smile. “An eager, hungry mind is an asset, not something to lament. I, for one, am impressed by the wealth of knowledge you possess on so many topics, and that knowledge serves you admirably. I’m certain there are few others who could successfully talk several ogres into allying with them, instead of eating them.”

Lae’zel scoffed impatiently, crossing her arms, then gave Ristah a slyly amused smile. “She clearly has no objection to being eaten by the elf, based on the noises from her tent the past two nights. Perhaps you should both consider moving a little further away from the rest of us. The sounds of your passion disturb my rest.”

“I thought I might have been the only one to notice their surprising liaison. I’ve heard sex with someone you hate can be very enjoyable, but who knows? I certainly won’t judge Ristah for seeking company over solitude,” Shadowheart mused, turning to frown at the roguish elf where he stood, flipping his dagger. “Even if it is with Astarion.”

“Sex with someone you hate is in no way enjoyable, it’s a torment and suffering that surpasses all nine hells!” Ristah snapped in sudden anger. Her increasing mortification over learning what everyone assumed she was doing with Astarion, causing her to speak unguardedly. Realizing what she had just said, and subsequently admitted to, made her bite her lip and look away in misery. The pale elf’s hand on her shoulder squeezed gently, bringing her gaze to his. He winked at her with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and turned to face the others with a gloating smile.

“Don’t let their teasing make you unhappy, darling. They’re only jealous that I’m the fortunate one here, privileged to know just how truly delicious you are.”

“Astarion!” Turned a wide-eyed, alarmed look to the elf beside her, she reached for his arm, squeezing it, dismayed by what he was implying, bringing his smirking regard back to her.

“What?” He asked in feigned innocence. “I’m telling the absolute truth. How can you fault me for that? Would you rather I lie and claim you aren’t delicious? That would hardly be helpful, and this is much more fun.”

Ristah sighed, ignoring her embarrassment for the more pressing issue at hand. “We have to tell them,” she hissed, shifting closer to him. “It’s better they know it now.”

He frowned, clearly not of the same opinion. “We don’t have to tell them anything. It’s our business, it doesn’t affect them in any way, so why should we?”

Gale regarded them both, crossing his arms with a disapproving look. “Whatever it is, I agree with Ristah. It’s a mistake to keep secrets if we are meant to trust one another as allies. I didn’t realize you had taken Astarion as your lover. I suppose I’m the last to know.”

Astarion looked at Gale and laughed. “Oh, how that must sting your wizard’s pride. Knowing I’m the one enjoying touching her. Dare I say the experience is truly...magical?”

Ristah made a sound of annoyance, turning an imploring look toward the elf. “I know you’re having fun with this, but I wish you wouldn’t do it at my expense.”

He responded with a pouting look, but refrained from further comment at the sight of her pleading blue eyes, something he seemed to have developed an alarming weakness for. She turned to look at the other three.

“I’m not Astarion’s lover, I’ve been helping him, I’m his…” She paused, searching for the right words to describe it.

“My elixir of ecstasy?” Astarion suggested with an amused smile.

“He’s a vampire,” Ristah declared, eager to have it said. “After all the fighting and running around we’ve had to do, he was weak and desperately in need of blood to be well and recover his full strength. I offered him mine. Any sounds you may have heard were just him…” She shrugged. “Enjoying his dinner, I suppose.”

“An understatement, pet,” Astarion murmured. “Your blood is a gourmet feast.”

“A vampire?” Shadowheart echoed thoughtfully. “I suppose that explains the marked paleness, among other things.” She shrugged, clearly unfazed. “As long as you’re willing to be the one feeding him, then I don’t care. But take heed, Astarion, my blood is not on offer, so keep away from my neck or suffer the consequences.”

“Aye, and that is doubly true for me, vampire,” Lae’zel said with a threatening glare. “Keep your distance or lose your life, the choice is yours.”

Astarion brushed a hand through his hair. “Oh, don’t worry, our little lamb keeps me very well sated. I would never dream of seeking a nibble from anyone else, not unless it was offered to me first.”

“Since I am the only one that seems to have any objection to this arrangement, let me voice it without delay.” Taking a step nearer, Gale stared at Ristah in concern.

“I think it unwise for you to take this on as your sole responsibility. Your health will surely suffer if you are daily drained of your vitality. You, more than anyone, also understand your spells will be far less effective if you are weak and sickly. With the tadpole already negatively affecting the natural ebb and flow of your connection to wild magic, you take a grave risk by shouldering this additional burden. I can’t let you do that without first telling you of my worries regarding your choice.”

The vampire bristled in annoyance. “I would never take a drop more of her blood than she can easily spare, nor would I hurt her. She’s one of our greatest assets, currently. I’m no fool to threaten that.” Astarion stared coldly at Gale, offended at the implication that he couldn’t be trusted, that he would harm Ristah without a moment’s hesitation.

She held up a placating hand, smiling reassuringly at Astarion before addressing Gale. “I appreciate your concern, truly, but I know what I’m about, Gale. I have an amulet that grants me a grand renewal cantrip. It allows me to feed Astarion freely, without suffering any ill affects from it. I would not have offered my blood to him, nor would he have accepted the offer if it damaged or diminished me. And now that his vampirism is no longer a secret he must hide, Astarion can also take sustenance from any enemies we fight that he finds suitable. Please trust my judgement in this, and Astarion’s, as well.”

With eyes narrowed, Gale pursed his lips. “A cantrip, you say, of grand renewal? Show me the amulet you speak of. If it’s what I suspect…” He left the rest unsaid, his eyes conveying all he needed to communicate to Ristah.

Wincing, she took a step nearer to Gale, her own eyes pleading with him to keep silent and not press her.. “When we return to camp, I’ll show it to you then, and I’ll...explain some things. Right now, we need to carry on with our pressing tasks.”

“Very well,” Gale agreed, quickly relenting. “We’ll talk later. I have a matter I need to discuss with you also, but you’re right, now is not the time. Let’s depart.”

Astarion observed their byplay with interest, missing nothing of their less than subtle attempt to conceal something regarding Ristah’s amulet. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one of their merry group who had things they weren’t eager to share. If he wasn’t invited to their little chat later, he decided some stealthy eavesdropping would be in order. One way or the other, he would learn all of the little lamb’s secrets, and use them to his benefit. Smiling to himself, he followed the others back down to the main road to continue their journey.

~O~

Poking at the potato on her plate that she didn’t have the appetite to eat, Ristah stared into the crackling flames of the camp fire in brooding discontent. She had been dreading the conversation with Gale for most of the day, and now, with it imminent, she felt like running away, or possibly throwing up. Setting aside her plate, she watched as Gale walked over and stopped just in front of her, resigning herself. He extended a hand and gave her an encouraging smile.

“Come, it’s a beautiful evening, walk with me for a bit.”

Nodding, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. She fell into step beside him, enjoying the noises of the night that filled the woods all around them, the chirping of insects, the eerie song of a night jay calling for its mate. The distant music of the rushing river was pleasant, calming. Ristah let it soothe her, attempting to breathe away her tension and worry during the short walk. When they stopped, they stood near the river again, but far enough from camp that no one would overhear them. Gale turned to regard her, gesturing toward her neck.

“May I have a look at it?” Ristah nodded again in silent acquiescence. Reaching for the gold chain, he pulled the round amulet from beneath her blouse and scrutinized it closely, then turned it over to examine the reverse side, tilting his head curiously. After another moment, he shifted his gaze to her, holding her eyes with his. “There’s a great deal of power in this, Ristah, and as I suspected, it’s pure god power. Such a gift is priceless, and very few are deemed worthy of the honor. I had a similar token from Mystra, long ago, though mine was a ring.”

Letting go of the amulet, Gale rested his hands on her shoulders and searched her eyes intently, his own full of gentleness and concern. “You’ve been given a position of great honor and privilege, bound to a god, or goddess, and afforded their full protection. But which one? I’ve never seen the symbols or language your locket bears.”

Uncomfortable with his touch as much as his intense scrutiny, Ristah moved away, putting space between them before she answered.

“It is very powerful, bound to me alone, meaning it can never be taken or stolen from me. But it is due to no honor, no favor that I bear this, I assure you, quite the opposite. And it’s both, a god and a goddess, a married pair, husband and wife. You wouldn’t recognize anything on my locket, they are not known here. I never knew of their existence until I was taken there by force. They reside elsewhere, in another plane entirely.” She shivered, rubbing her arms to ward away the chill that had nothing to do with the pleasantly warm night air.

“I’m uncertain just how far their power extends, so I dare not ever speak their names, lest they hear and find me again. I escaped captivity, you see. I was their slave, and I would rather die than ever go back to that miserable existence. I was but nineteen years old when I was stolen from my family in Baldur’s Gate and sold as a slave to them. It took me four years, four miserable, nightmarish years to devise a way to free myself.” She turned back toward Gale with eyes full of anguish.

“It required all my powers of persuasion, every bit of cunning and intelligence I possess to liberate myself. I lied, cheated, bargained, paid whatever wretched price I had to. It was awful, but I did it. All for the hope of freedom and returning home to my father.” Her voice grew quieter, more grave as she continued speaking.

“The day I set foot in Baldur’s Gate again was the most wonderful, the most amazing, happy day of my life. I was walking home, nearly to the upper city, hurrying. I was desperate to reunite with my father, to ease the grief and pain he has surely suffered in my absence and let him know I still live.”

Her face contorted as though she were in agony before she gave a humorless little laugh, looking away again, back toward the river. “That was when I was taken, yet again. I awoke on the Nautiloid ship, in one of their damned pods, the same as everyone else. If my life is not complete proof of a cursed existence, I don’t know what is.”

“Ristah...I’m so sorry,” Gale said sincerely, his hazel eyes full of a sorrowful sympathy and understanding of her suffering. “I told you of my time with Mystra and the consequences I still struggle to manage. The gods don’t understand us, don’t even try to really. Because of that, it’s a difficult thing for mortals to be subject to the whims of a god, even a benevolent one. But to bear the whims of two...without benevolence, rather with cruelty and malice… I cannot even imagine the many horrors you must have endured. Would that I could be of help to you in some way.”

Wrapping her arms tightly around herself again, Ristah shuddered. “Cruelty and malice, yes, I cannot think of a better description for either of them.” Turning, she sought Gale’s eyes again, amid the half-dark gloom of night. “And you can help me, if you will. You can go and tell the others what I’ve told you. All of you have shared much of your backgrounds and difficulties with me, and there shouldn’t be any secrets regarding mine. But I cannot possibly speak of it again tonight. I need some time alone now, to master myself and recover my composure. It hasn’t been very long at all since my escape, and much of it is still too near, you understand.”

Gale gave her a soft smile. “Yes, yes, I do understand, completely. I’ll be glad to go and do as you ask.” He tilted his head. “But before I go, would you like a bit of comfort in the form of a hug?”

Her smile was both embarrassed and uncomfortable, her eyes pleading and sad. “Thank you most sincerely for your kind offer, Gale, and I hope you won’t be offended, but I must decline. In explanation, let me just say that the past four years have given me an extreme aversion to most touch.”

Realization filled his hazel eyes and he nodded. “Of course. Be at ease, I’m not at all offended. If there is anything else you ever need of me, don’t hesitate to ask. I will leave you to your solitude now, as you wish.”

Ristah exhaled in obvious relief and nodded, giving him another small smile in thanks. When he was gone and she could no longer hear his retreating footsteps, she finally let the trembling overtake her and covered her face with both hands, her breaths rapid and uneven, a panicky tightness squeezing her chest like a vise. Talking about her past, even so little, had brought it all back vividly.

All the trauma, the pain, the terror, still too sharp and far too deep even for tears to be helpful or grant any kind of release. So she let her body shake and tremble in response to her chaotic emotions, wondering if this time she would finally shake apart for good. Perhaps that would be for the best. She felt the passing of time all around her while she stood there, but she couldn’t force herself to move. Paralyzed by the fear, the memories that were so painful, filled with the sounds of her own screams. How could she have any hope of ever truly escaping their grip on her, when they so easily held her fast?

She felt a light touch on the crown of her head at the same time as calm, soothing words were murmured near her ear. “Don’t be alarmed, pet, it’s only me. I thought you might not mind my company, but if you rather I go then I will, just tell me.”

Lifting her head, she turned to face Astarion, causing his hand to fall away from her. She searched his red-eyed gaze for disgust or pity, but found neither, instantly relaxing at the welcome sight of him. Her haunting memories faded away like phantoms, in light of his very real presence.

“You heard about me, about my past? You know?” At his small nod of confirmation, she drew in a long, deep breath, her trembling easing some. “Good. I wanted to talk to you about it before, and many times I started to tell you, but…”

“It brings back memories of things you would much rather forget and never think of again.” He replied, watching her through sober, guarded eyes.

She nodded in misery. “Yes, exactly. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He brushed a stray hair away from one of her eyes.

“I’m sorry for the pain you also endured, from the evil person you said turned you into a spawn. Sorry that you understand how I feel. I really wish you didn’t.” She shrugged.

One side of his mouth lifted in the semblance of a smile, but his eyes glinted with malice. “I find it helpful if you indulge in elaborate revenge fantasies. Imagine slowly cutting your nemesis to pieces, one body part at a time. Think of their splashing blood drawing vivid patterns on the floor, like a painting. The art of revenge, if you will. Hear their tormented screams of pain in your mind, like a sweet lullaby to send you to sleep.”

Her brows rose in surprise, making his smile grow. “I don’t really want to torture anyone, not even them, I would just prefer they not exist. I suppose you think that makes me too nice?”

He smirked. “Yes, far too sweet and lamb-like. Don’t forget, darling, lambs get eaten.”

Ristah glared in annoyance and poked her finger against his chest. “Perhaps the lamb wants to be eaten, did you ever think of that? It could be a useful tactic, a strategy of diversion. While you’re feasting and less watchful, the lamb might take the opportunity to shove a hoof or two up your foolishly over-confident ass.”

Astarion chuckled, lifting her hand from his chest and turned it, brushing his lips against her wrist and over the vein that fed him. When her heart sped at his touch there, as it often did, it made him smile in satisfaction.

“If you want me to eat you, then you’ll have to remove your clothing. I don’t care for the taste of fabric, pet. Your body and blood are the decadent treats I crave. Maybe one night soon we might consider feeding our appetites for one another, and slaking an entirely different kind of thirst.”

She made no answer, only stared at him with an almost wild look. Reaching up, she swept her hair to one side and tilted her head, baring her neck fully in offering. “Are you hungry? Ready to bite me now? Please. On my neck tonight. I really don’t want to think about certain things anymore, I...I just want to be distracted. Will you, please?”

With a light touch to her chin, he brought her eyes back to his, allowing him to see her expression and gauge her feelings. “Are you quite certain you want that? It would mean an embrace, and far more of me touching you than when I feed from your wrist. Didn’t you tell Gale you had an aversion to being touched?”

Ristah reached for his hand, pulling it away from her chin and holding it in hers while she tried to convey some of what she was feeling in her eyes, then decided to explain it in words too.

“I do have an aversion to touch, that’s true. Because of my past, uninvited touch can feel far worse than someone striking me. Yours is the only physical contact, the only touch that has never affected me in a negative way. I...actually...enjoy it when you touch me.”

His red eyes gleamed with something, some emotion she couldn’t place before he reached for her chin again and turned her head, baring her throat to him once more. “As you wish, pet,” he whispered. “If it’s too much for you, tell me and I’ll stop.”

Pulling her more against him, he slid his arms slowly around her and waited. When she made no objection and fully relaxed against him, he lowered his head, brushing his lips up and down the side of her neck several times, giving her time to change her mind. Ristah wrapped her own arms around him and pulled him even closer, her little sigh encouraging him to continue.

As gently as he could, he pierced her skin with his fangs, both of them moaning as though they were lovers in the throes of passion. Her blood flowed like a rushing river into his mouth, a fresh flood of it with every beat of her heart. It made Astarion wonder what it felt like to her when he fed, and he found himself inside her mind almost effortlessly, surprised to discover just how aroused she was by the experience of him feeding from her.

Felt the truth of her words, that it was only his touch she welcomed. Jumbled images of the two of them together flashed past, some of them strange and confusing, but he didn’t linger over them. The taste of her blood pulled him out of her mind and back to the world around them, making him realize that she was slumped against him, nearly unconscious. Releasing her neck, he licked at the droplets that continued to flow. He shook her gently to bring her back to awareness. She mumbled the spell that sealed her wounds and laid her head against his chest.

Astarion rested his chin on top of her head, one hand stroking her hair away from her face. “How do you feel now?” He questioned, concerned he may have taken too much without trying, the flow from her neck was so much quicker. Ristah gave a girlish giggle that had his brows climbing in surprise. He didn’t even know she could make such a sound.

“I feel drunk, and wonderful, and also a little sleepy!” She gushed enthusiastically. “But I think you may have to carry me to my tent, I’m also feeling dizzy and a tad shaky. Maybe weak. A little faint? I’m fine, though. You did me a favor. I truly can’t think at all!” That declaration was followed by another bout of loud giggles.

He sighed and swung her up into his arms, hoping he wouldn’t draw the ire of any of their companions when they saw the state she was in. If he drank from her throat again he would have to be far more careful in future not to take so much, he really hadn’t been prepared for that. Ristah slid her nose against his neck and then up to his ear, catching his lobe between her teeth and sucking gently. That caused his partial erection from feeding to become a full one. Marvelous.

“Are you licking my ear? If so, you may wish to refrain, as you’re in no state to receive my amorous attentions, and ear licking is a very sure way to draw that attention.” He warned, but kept his tone light and teasing. He started walking, but not back toward camp, deciding to wait until she was acting more like herself, or else asleep before he took her back. He didn’t care to explain any of his evening to the others.

“Mhh,” Ristah sighed, nuzzling against his neck again. “I would like to suck other parts of your ear, it’s very pretty. In fact, though I haven’t actually seen all of you, I’m very sure all of you is pretty, or handsome, beautiful, whatever complimentary description you prefer. I could lick all of you, start from the top and work my way down. That would be a day well spent, don’t you think?”

“I think I do, pet,” he said in a purring voice. “Don’t stop now, I’m enjoying this far more than your little morality tale from before. Why don’t you regale me with a titillating, erotic story? That is far more to my preference and taste, and you seem to be in the right frame of mind to do it justice.”

After another lick of his ear that had him stifling a groan, she lifted her head with a look of puzzlement. “Erotic? I’m not sure I know any erotic stories. Should I try to make one up? Or, I know! I could just tell you one of my fantasies, maybe? Would that be too silly?”

He smirked, enjoying the surprising direction the evening had taken, and determined to enjoy it to the fullest. “By all means, share one of your fantasies with me. I may even decide to be generous and make it come true for you.”

“Alright.” She grinned. “I think I’ll frame it like a fairy tale though, it’s far easier to relate it like that.” She cleared her throat and then began.

“Once upon a time, in a large, prosperous city called Nalturra, there was an only daughter born to a noble house. She was raised to be the very picture of charm, grace and poise. Her father loved her to distraction, and in turn, she loved him just as dearly and sought to please him every way she could. She applied herself to her studies, learning all there was to know, and became the perfect hostess to the guests that attended her father’s lavish balls and parties. Life was perfect, her entire existence charmed, until one day, everything changed.”

“It was a warm, brilliant afternoon, and the estate was bustling with busy servants, preparing for the grandest ball of the season. The daughter, we’ll call her Tav, was in between tasks and went out into the garden for a breath of air. The day was unusually hot, and Tav was feeling a little naughty and mischievous, so she stripped down to nothing but her short, sheer chemise, and climbed into the fountain at the heart of the maze, the very center of the garden. No one ever went there but her, and the few gardeners that tended it. Secure in the knowledge that she would not be disturbed or be caught in an impropriety, she lay back in the fountain, letting the cool water refresh her.”

Astarion stopped walking and sat down on a patch of grass, Ristah still in his arms when he leaned back against a large tree. She was so immersed into her tale, that she scarcely paused for a brief look around before taking it up again.

“The heat caused Tav to doze, and when she opened her eyes, she was sure she was dreaming. A very handsome elf, with chestnut hair and green eyes stood looking down on her very intently. He wore no tunic or waistcoat, only a tight pair of leather breeches. Though she was still quite a young woman and little acquainted with the language of passion, when she beheld the elf, her body burned and she ached for him in the very core of her being. Never had she felt the things she did for the elf with any other person she had ever known, and the pull was irresistible. Tav yearned to taste his lips on hers, to feel his tongue moving eagerly over her most sensitive flesh, to have her body explode from his complete possession, things she knew about only from books. She never said a word, only held her hand out to him.”

“The elf, we’ll call him Fandril, recognized the plea in Tav’s eyes and desired her with equal passion. For in the moment they first looked into each other’s eyes, a mystical, mysterious bond had come into being, and something they had both previously lacked was able to be found only in the other. Closing the distance between them, he took her hand and pulled her from the water, up and into his arms, holding her tightly against him, as though he never intended to let her go. He kissed her until she was senseless with want, dazed and nigh ready to weep when he finally slipped his fingers beneath her soaked chemise and between her legs to touch her.”

Ristah closed her eyes, able to almost see what she was describing so clearly in her mind. Astarion watched her in surprised fascination, drawn in by her enthusiastic storytelling. He forced himself to focus on what she was saying, becoming even more aroused while he continued to listen.

“Pulling away from her lips, he commanded her not to move, with nothing more than the implacable look in his bright green eyes. Pushing her back to rest against the tall column in the center of the fountain, he went to his knees before her, pulling one of her legs to rest over his shoulder, opening her body to him. Pressing his mouth to her where she wanted him most, he pleasured her with his tongue until she was too weak and overcome to remain upright. After, he showed her how to please him in a similar way, with her mouth and tongue alone, which she eagerly did, desiring nothing greater than to lavish him with equal pleasure. In that way, there was no risk to her maidenhead, nor any evidence of what they shared.”

“When Tav awoke, the sun was already casting deep shadows from the lateness of the day, and she hurried to dress again and make it to her rooms to be prepared by her lady’s maid for the grand ball. She wondered if her dream could have been real or only a fantasy caused by the heat of the day. That evening, she was helping her father receive his guests as they arrived, one of her usual duties, when the very elf from her dream walked in, dressed in the finest silk brocade and velvet. She stared rather rudely before she recovered her composure. While her father spoke to a different guest, the elf came, took her hand and kissed it, pressing something against her palm which she slipped discreetly into a hidden pocket of her dress. With a confident smirk, he spoke to her for the first time and said the following…”

“Lady Tavvington, how beautiful you look tonight, though I daresay you are even more beautiful under a midday sun. It is my very great pleasure to make your acquaintance, formally. My name is Fandril Ancunín, I’m a magistrate here in Nalturra. If you have need of my services in future, please don’t hesitate to send for me. I will always be your ever eager servant.”

“Tav was so shocked she couldn’t speak, and excused herself for a breath of air. When she was alone, she pulled the thing from her pocket that the elf had slipped to her. It was one of the garters she had worn while down in the garden that afternoon, the one she had been missing.”

Turning to look at Astarion with a teasing grin, she shrugged a shoulder. “The end?”

Regarding her for a long, silent moment, he finally shook his head and smiled. “Hmm, or maybe not the end, but to be continued, instead. Very colorfully told. I think you may have missed your calling as a bard, or possibly an author. But your story characters felt rather familiar, I noticed your Fandril even shared my surname and profession. And is Tavvington your surname or something you made up for your little story?”

“Tavvington is my surname, in fact. It’s entirely possible that we...inspired the creation of those characters. I said I would tell you one of my fantasies. I didn’t say whether or not the fantasy had actually happened, or only lived in my imagination. Maybe it was even real, in another plane of existence. Wouldn’t that be shocking? What if we happened to meet before, in another life and didn’t know it? Nothing at all like the little story I told, of course, but what if we had met and became acquainted? Could we have ever become lovers in another time, another place, do you think?”

He smirked and shook his head. “In another life? Possibly. Otherwise, no, of course not, for the simple reason that it is impossible for us to have met in this life. I was made a spawn nearly two hundred years ago. You could not be more than five and twenty, surely, and I judge you are likely even younger, based on your appearance alone.”

Ristah shrugged with an enigmatic smile. “I am twenty-three, or I believe my body is, at least. On another night, perhaps we can speak more in depth about things from our pasts, and I’ll tell you my full story, the real one. I would like you to know it, to know me a little better, if you care to. Now, I suppose I should go to my tent and get some sleep.”

When she made to move, Astarion caught her wrist to keep her where she was, still sitting on his lap. “Ah, now Ristah, if you want to claim I’m the man in the story, before you depart, you should demonstrate what you say I taught you. How you pleasure a man with your mouth. I’m very interested to test your knowledge.”

Pursing her lips, she studied his expression, wondering if she had implied she knew a little too much. She wasn’t ready for anything quite like that, not yet.

“I never claimed that was true, I just made it up for the story. Do you really want me to give you pleasure and then run off to bed with nothing for myself? That’s not very fair, is it?”

He made a chiding sound. “I never said I would send you away with nothing. If it’s your preference, we can recreate the fountain scene you described, but adapt it for here, among the trees.”

She swallowed audibly and darted a nervous glance at him, unable to tell if he was sincere or playing some sort of game. “Are you being serious, or...making fun of me and my silly fantasy?

He sat up straight, his smile fading to impatience, leaning closer to her. “By the hells, I’m not making fun of you, but maybe you’re not yet ready for this, for me. Perhaps I was mistaken, and you don’t want me at all.”

Holding his eyes with hers, she reached out and rested her palm against his cheek and answered in stark honesty. “I do want you, Astarion, more than anything or anyone I’ve ever wanted, but I must admit that I’m afraid. When I was enslaved...I never….” She shook her head and started over.

“I’ve never had sex where I chose it, not once, not even a single time. I was always...forced. By those I hate with the fiery fury of all nine hells. Sex is something that’s...difficult….my memories of it are all bad. Awful, in fact, it’s...” She shuddered and looked away from his probing stare.

“I don’t know how to behave or be normal, how to act like an undamaged, real woman would. Really, I’m a complete waste of your time. You can just choose someone else to bed, someone who isn’t...so broken, like me. I’m sorry.” She attempted to get up again, to leave, but he held fast to her wrist, stopping her for the second time.

“Ristah, don’t look away, let me see those lovely blue eyes of yours.” His voice was quiet, serious, more sincere than she had ever heard it. She lifted her eyes back to him reluctantly, feeling so ripped open and easy to read, vulnerable and exposed, she could hardly bear his scrutiny. But she waited for him to speak, waited for him to say that she wasn’t worth his time or attention. It’s what she expected. What was she to him anyway? Nothing. An unfortunate meeting in the midst of horrific circ*mstances. She sighed when he didn’t speak, wondering why he was keeping her there in torment when he could just as easily let her go.

“I don’t want someone else, pet. You’re the only one I’ve come to crave. Your inner scars and obvious pain make me want to be with you even more, not less, make of that what you will. But it must be your choice if we are ever to seek new experiences in each other. Don’t you want this, to be with me?” He asked, in the same probing, quiet tone. She nodded, not wanting to risk her shaky voice. “Then let me ask just a few things about your past. Were you on your back previously, restrained at all?” Again, she nodded, then decided to clarify.

“Yes, always restrained by my wrists and ankles, most of the time on my back, but occasionally on my belly too. But never without restraints, because...I wouldn’t obey. They couldn’t make me want it, no matter what they threatened or tried.”

Astarion brushed a hand against the side of her face, already certain of the answer to the question he was about to ask, but he needed to be sure. “Were you punished?”

With furrowed brows and clenched jaw, she nodded again. “I was. I was whipped many, many times, far more than I can count. I preferred that to...the other alternative.”

His smile was more open and gentle than she would have thought possible, if she didn’t see it with her own eyes. “You aren’t really a lamb at all, are you, darling? You’re a little fox in disguise, cunning and quick. All right, I won’t ask any more difficult questions tonight. I know it seems cruel of me to bring it up, but I need to know what to avoid in future. I don’t want to ever bring you pain, only pleasure, our mutual pleasure. Not right away, but at some point, when we both feel the time is right and if you want it. Is that acceptable?”

Her smile was hesitant, and even a little hopeful. “Yes, that’s acceptable. Thank you for your willingness to be patient with me.”

“Who said anything about being patient?” With a teasing half smile, he moved his hand to the back of Ristah’s head, drawing her closer to him. He watched her for any objection before his lips pressed against hers, sharing a slow, sensual kiss. He pulled away in satisfaction, pleased by her eager response to his kiss, and his own increasing eagerness to have her.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy tasting all your delights, pet. I can hardly wait. But we must get you tucked into bed soon, I don’t want my delectable dinner to become unwell, especially now that you’ve allowed me that succulent neck of yours.”

She shrugged with her own teasing smile, standing to her feet and looking across at him when he also stood. “At least my blood is appealing enough for you to want to have me in some form, that’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

Astarion pulled her against his chest and kissed her again, a quick, sweet peck. Then he smirked at her. “I intend to have you in every possible way, my little darling. I can’t allow myself to be outdone by my suave, fantasy self you concocted. But now I’m curious, when is the next interlude to take place between Tav and Fandril, or should I rather say Ristah and Astarion, hmm? And what will the location be? If I may make a request, I have a special fondness for long, formal dining tables, set with lots of wine and food that our charming couple could roll around in.”

Grinning when he reached for her hand and brushed a brief kiss to her fingers, she shrugged. “I’ll keep your request in mind. In the meantime, what do you say to letting me climb on your back and ride to camp? I have a feeling our oddest camp follower, Withers, might have something amusing to say about it.”

“I’m not a beast of burden,” Astarion exclaimed in mock offense, then raised a brow. “But I won’t say no to giving you a ride, as I am the one responsible for your current weakened state. On my back this time, but for the next ride we share, I’ll hope to be lying beneath you. Come on, hop on.”

Laughing, Ristah made it onto his back and wrapped her legs around him, squeezing tight and drawing an exclamation from him. “Hells, woman! You’ll snap me in two with the strength of your thighs, alone. But perhaps that would be a good way to die, now I consider it.”

With a devious smile, Ristah ran her fingers through his hair, purposefully mussing up his careful curls. His warning look back at her made her burst into laughter again, one of her brows raised in obvious challenge. Astarion’s lips twisted in a reluctantly amused smile while he walked.

“Now I understand what that unique, irresistible little spice is that I taste in your blood. It’s your darker half you keep so well hidden. You’re part demon, clearly, and I’m so proud you’re finally embracing your darkness, pet. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

Ristah said nothing, but pressed her face against his neck with a smile, then brushed an affectionate little kiss there. Hours later, when she was fast asleep in her tent, Astarion found himself musing over that little kiss, though he would never dare to admit it.

~O~

Chapter 4: Don't touch me!

Chapter Text

~O~

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Ristah surveyed all the goblin bodies around them, glad they were finally done with all the fighting and battles for the time being. Since they were the only ones still left alive, their combined skills had clearly won the day. Relying mostly on deception and persuasion, they had successfully infiltrated the goblin stronghold and managed to free the Archdruid, Halsin. A bear shifter, as they had come to discover.

He seemed very knowledgeable regarding their types of tadpoles, and Ilithids in general. It left Ristah feeling more optimistic and encouraged than she had since they had all crash landed and begun their exhausting journey. Maybe their liberation and return to their normal lives was imminent, perhaps even a mere tenday away. That thought had her grinning from ear to ear, nearly ready to laugh out loud with the excitement of her potential freedom.

They were all taking time to catch their breath before heading back to the Grove. Gale was chatting with Halsin about something, likely magic. Shadowheart and Lae’zel were occupying themselves by trading insults, as usual, but with much less vitriol than they had in the beginning, since they had seemed to reach a form of truce by mutual agreement. The sorcerer frowned, scanning the open space but seeing no sign of Astarion. Knowing he would appear when he wanted to and not a moment before, she ambled toward a side room with the door partially opened, thinking a moment of solitude to gather her thoughts might be a nice little respite.

Stepping over a puddle of dark blood, she made a face at the unpleasant smell that permeated the entire place, shrieking in startlement when an oversized rat ran across her feet. She channeled lightning through her staff, smirking down in satisfaction when all that remained of the rat was a charred heap.

“Serves you right, you nasty little bastard,” she muttered, pushing the door closed and turning to face the shadowy room with a tired sigh.

“Well done, pet. All vermin will learn to fear Ristah the Rat Slayer, terror of the Sword Coast, hero and defender to all cheese lovers.”

Squinting toward the dark corner where the vampire rogue was seated, she walked toward him. “Astarion? What are you doing hiding in here in the dark?” Able to see him clearly from the enchanted light cast by her quarterstaff, she frowned, tilting her head while she examined him. He was even paler than usual, something she didn’t even know was possible, and his general expression almost conveyed…

“Are you all right? If I didn’t know better I would think you were feeling sick, but surely that’s not…”

“You’re very perceptive, as usual,” he murmured, his eyes drifting closed when she brushed his hair back from his forehead with a light, gentle touch. “Since I started snacking on our various enemies, situation permitting, I’ve come to a conclusion regarding all I’ve tasted.”

“And? What have you discovered?” She propped her staff against the wall and crossed her arms, looking down at him.

With a slight smile lifting his lips, he gazed up at her, reaching for one of her hands and pulling her closer. “Only that I apparently have very refined tastes and preferences. The blood of goblins, bugbears and ogres does not agree with me at all, and even human male and female drow leave something to be desired. In short, my dear, your blood is the very height of perfection and nothing else can hope to compare. I seem to crave your blood, and only your blood. The blood of others leaves me feeling rather unwell, truth be told.” He kissed her knuckles, inhaling the pleasing scent of her skin. “If I may beg a favor of you… Will you allow me just a sip or two of your divine blood to remove the foul taste of goblin that still lingers on my tongue?”

“Of course you can, whatever you need to feel well.” With furrowed brows, she sat down on top of him, straddling his lap and pulling her hair to one side, baring her neck. She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I’m rather sweaty and nasty from all the fighting, but if that’s not too revolting for you, then take what you like.”

Caressing her cheek, he gave her a warm smile. “My delectable darling, your enticing scent and incomparable taste is everything I desire and nothing I don’t, and your sweat is not a deterrent. One day soon, I’m going to prove that to you and express my complete gratitude and boundless admiration...for all of you.”

Sliding his nose along the side of her neck, he paused to breathe her in fully before he pierced her with his fangs, unable to stop his groan at her welcome taste. He wanted to have a full feed of her powerful, invigorating blood, but he forced himself to take only a few sips as he said he would.

“You can take more if you like,” she whispered, trying to urge his head to return to her neck when he lifted it.

“No, sweetness, we still have the return journey to the Grove and our camp, and I don’t want to weaken you when we still have tasks to complete.”

He placed a soft kiss to her neck after she healed herself and stifled an affected gasp when she shifted on his lap, rubbing against his erect co*ck and bringing his other hungers for her to the forefront. Pulling her mouth to his, he kissed her eagerly, briefly losing himself to the taste of her tongue against his own. The feel of her warm body pressed against him was exactly what he was craving, along with the sound of her racing heart and the eagerness in her touch, when she pulled him even closer.

Shadowheart opened the door and smirked at them when Ristah immediately rose off him and moved away, grabbing her staff and heading toward the door.

“Come on, you two, it’s time to set off. Halsin is eager to get back to the Grove, and I’m eager to wash all this goblin filth off me.”

“I am too,” Ristah agreed. “I’m also rather hot and would enjoy a chance to sit in the cool water for a bit.” She aimed a teasing, flirtatious smile at Astarion before she disappeared through the door.

He remained seated for another moment, needing that brief time to recover from what she did to him before they were interrupted. She made him ache, his body, his mind...other parts he wasn’t ready to contemplate. Astarion wanted to taste, wanted to drown in her, in every possible way. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone as much as he had come to desire her. Perhaps it was finally time for a little enticement and seduction, at last.

While the six of them walked back to the Grove a short while later, he watched the hulking druid flirting with Ristah while they chatted, being very open and bold in expressing his attraction, doing nothing at all to hide his blatant sexual interest. Astarion hid his own satisfied smile at her embarrassed blush, and at the way she avoided Halsin's gaze that betrayed the depth of her discomfort around him. One of her many tells that he had made a point of learning to read. Oh yes, it was definitely time for the next stage of his plan with his darling lamb. For the remainder of their walk, he carefully plotted, intent on making a very memorable and eventful evening for Ristah and himself.

~O~

Looking around the campsite at all the ongoing celebration, the merrymakers from the Grove and the tieflings, all dancing, drinking and singing, made Astarion scowl and stalk off toward the woods. The reason for the celebration being that they were all still alive. Their gratitude at being saved from all the goblins planning to slaughter them was too much for him. He hadn’t cared one way or another if they lived or died, but as usual, Ristah had insisted they help the pitiful and the weak that begged for their assistance.

As he had gotten to know her better, her seemingly random bursts of kindness bothered him less, now he knew she was far more than the bleeding heart idiot he had first taken her for. She was level-headed enough to understand they couldn’t take time to stop and help every poor fool that crossed their path, so the few instances when she did choose to help someone became less irksome to him. Even better, she made sure their little group always received some tangible benefit or reward for their help, using that persuasive tongue of hers to cajole and deceive with a deftness of skill that impressed even him. Which brought him back to his current thoughts of the evening, to the plans he had made that required her presence.

Naturally, the only person he actually wished to speak with had disappeared nearly an hour earlier, in the company of the wizard. Gale had returned to the party soon after, but there was no sign of Ristah, and Astarion was done waiting around for her return. He decided to track down his lamb by scent, and he knew hers better than anyone’s. Her blood was like a song that called directly to him, and as he walked it grew louder. Stopping, he drew in a deep breath and smirked, crouching and creeping forward silently.

Glancing up through the branches of the large tree he was concealed under, he spied Ristah sitting on one of the highest large branches. Hopping nimbly into one of the lower branches, he began to climb, deciding to announce his presence before he frightened her. Purposefully, he snapped a small branch when he was close to her, drawing her gaze. Astarion smiled and made a chiding sound.

“I was looking for you, darling, hoping you would save me, but you were nowhere to be found. You cruelly left me on my own to deal with all the fawning and thanks from those annoyingly grateful tieflings, such a bore. But what are you doing up here? I didn’t think you took pleasure in anything like tree climbing.”

She gave an uncomfortable little laugh he knew was another one of her tells for upset, and looked away from him, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. “No, I can’t climb to save my life, evidenced by all the instances where I managed to trip over my own feet, which you’ve witnessed many times. If you want the truth, then...here it is.” She drew a deep breath and met his eyes again.

“Lae’zel said something about wanting to lick the sweat off my body, Shadowheart asked me to share some wine with her in a tone of voice I’ve never heard from her before. Gale…” Ristah stopped speaking and swallowed before speaking again. “Um, Gale mentioned wanting to try to channel weave with me, or something similar, but I declined. And that Druid, Halsin...that hungry bear stare of his made me rather uncomfortable. Essentially, I’m hiding like the complete coward I am.”

Astarion laughed, sliding closer to sit on the branch next to hers. “It sounds like you’re the most sought after treat at this little party, and everyone wants a taste. How did you manage to get all the way up here in the dark, anyway?”

She smiled in amusem*nt. “How do you think? A spell, of course. I used a Misty Step scroll I happened to have in my pocket, although…” Ristah glanced down at the ground, much farther below than she originally thought, and clutched the branch she was holding onto with a far tighter grip.

“Oh dear,” Astarion drawled teasingly. “Don’t tell me you got all the way up here with no way to get back down.”

Laughing again, she shook her head. “All right, I won’t tell you that’s exactly what I did. I wasn’t engaged in any kind of rational thought when I made the decision. After Gale left, I panicked at the thought of him coming back, and here I am.”

The vampire’s smile turned wicked. “I suppose I can get you down...for a price.”

“Hmm.” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Do I even want to ask the price for your assistance?”

Waving a hand in a carefree manner, Astarion smiled engagingly. “Oh, it’s nothing so terrible. I just want you to grant me the freedom to pick where to bite you tonight, for my evening feed I’ve been looking forward to, ever since the appetizer you gave me earlier. Is that a reasonable fee for my help?”

Pursing her lips, she finally nodded. “Very well, I agree. Now, how do we go about getting me down from here?”

“Just like this,” he said with a confident grin, scooped her into his arms and launched himself from one branch to the next until he was midway down the tree. With a much larger final jump, he landed on the forest floor with scarcely a sound. Straitening, he glanced down, smirking when Ristah finally raised her head from his neck where she had buried it, staring at him wide-eyed.

“That was absolutely terrifying!”

He shrugged, setting her on her feet. “You weren’t in any danger, there was no chance of my dropping you.”

Ristah laughed. “I know! Can we do it again sometime?”

His lips twisted in surprised amusem*nt. “Quite a little daredevil, aren’t you? You like the thrill of danger?” Placing his hand lightly against her back, he steered her further away from the camp, walking beside her.

“I like it just fine, with you.” Ristah smiled with blue eyes shining with excitement. “I’m not afraid, I trust you to keep me safe, just as you do practically every day in battle.”

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement,” he declared with a grand gesture of his hand. “I watch your back, and you watch mine. What could be better?”

With flushed cheeks she nodded in agreement. “Exactly. So...where do you want to feed from tonight if not my neck or wrist? My arm? Surely you don’t want to drink from my leg, do you?”

He clicked his tongue with a chastising sound and shook his head at her. “You’ll find out soon enough, pet. But first…” He took her hand and ducked under a natural curtain of hanging vines, revealing a dimly lit nook with a large, soft blanket spread out, several pillows and numerous unopened bottles of wine. “Welcome to my lair, darling. With all the noise and visitors back at our camp, I thought you might enjoy staying out here for the night, with me.”

“This is perfect!” She declared with a wide grin and slipped her shoes off, claiming one of the cushions to lay her head on and stretched out across the blanket with a happy sigh. Surveying all the wine, she smirked. “Are you going to get me drunk? If so, I warn you, it will just make me fall asleep faster.”

“No, of course not. I want you mostly sober for our night of shared passion.” He slipped off his own shoes and pulled his ruffled tunic off and tossed it aside before lying down next to Ristah. She was staring at him with a wide-eyed, panicked look.

“What exactly do you mean, ‘our night of shared passion’?” She questioned in a quiet, breathless voice.

“By the hells, little lamb,” Astarion laughed. “Must I really spell it out for you? Sex, darling, I want us to have wonderful, pleasurable sex together. We talked about it before, how we would rendezvous one night when it felt right. I think this night feels perfect, for both of us. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Looking around and seeing the little nook through the lens of seduction changed everything, and her heart started to race with the beginnings of panic and fear. Ristah sat up, clasping her hands together tightly. “But...I don’t know how to do any of that, Astarion. You know that I’ve never willingly…”

Sitting up beside her, he brushed her loose waves away from her eyes so he could see them clearly. He gave her an encouraging smile. “I haven’t forgotten, sweet. I can show you how, or if you prefer, I can do everything for you until you’re more comfortable with an active role. Don’t you desire me?”

Meeting his eyes nervously, she nodded and hurriedly looked away again. Reaching out, he brought her gaze back to his.

“Then why don’t you think of it in terms of a battle, Ristah? Your enemy took something important from you, ripped it away by force. It wasn’t theirs, but they took it anyway. So take your vengeance on them by starting to reclaim this part of you and take it back. This is your choice, if you want to make it, and perhaps the opportunity to create a memory you don’t hate. Decide if you want this, and if so, then do it. f*ck them, your tormentors aren’t here, and mine aren’t either. It’s just us, my sweet, and neither of us want to hurt the other. I can make you feel more pleasure than you’ve ever dreamed, if you’ll only allow it.”

Clenching her jaw when his words made perfect sense and resonated strongly inside her, she nodded again. This time, when she looked at him, there was a fierce resolve smoldering in her gaze.

“You’re right, of course you’re right. I can do this, I can overcome my fear for the chance to experience something wonderful. Just...tell me what to do?”

With a slight smile, he took one of her hands and brought it to his bare chest. “You can start by touching me. Do you want to know how my skin feels, or the shape and contour of my muscles? Then learn those things, explore me however you like. And when you want to add tasting any part of me you’re curious about, do that too. We are partners in this, and I’m giving you free reign to explore me as little or as much as you please. If you start to feel overwhelmed, or something is too much for your comfort, tell me and we’ll try something else. How does that sound to you?”

While he spoke, she shifted toward him, lifting her other hand to rest them both against his chest. “Good, it sounds good,” she acknowledged. Keeping her eyes on his chest and her hands there, she slid one up to his neck, touching the bite marks there she had spent so much time staring at. Looking up to meet his eyes, and returning the little smile he gave her, she caressed his skin there. “Did it hurt...a lot, when you were bitten there?”

Dipping his chin in a nod, he made a sound of agreement. “Yes, it did hurt. Quite a lot, in fact. Dying is not an enjoyable experience at all, I don’t recommend it.”

Her blue eyes full of sadness, she leaned toward him, moving her fingers away so she could press her lips to the bite, kissing it several times. “I’m sorry he hurt you. I wish I could take it all away.”

Reaching for her chin, he lifted it and lowered his lips to hers, kissing her slowly, stirringly. He grazed his fangs over her bottom lip, not breaking the skin, just teasing it. He traced her mouth with his tongue, experiencing a great sense of victory when she sighed and opened to him, becoming soft and pliant in his arms. When he explored her mouth with his tongue, she responded in kind, eager for more. While they kissed, he undid the hooks of her corseted top with swift, nimble fingers, finally sliding it off her entirely.

When he stroked her bare breast with his fingertips, her response was not what he had been hoping for. It was a cry of anguish, of suffering, so similar to his own tortured cries of the past that he snatched back his hand and lifted his head to look at her. She was visibly trembling with her eyes clenched tightly shut. He experienced an unexpected wave of pity for her and an entirely expected feeling of frustrated annoyance. If he couldn’t successfully seduce her, how was he meant to manipulate her feelings for him to his advantage? Could he even manage it without the sex? Unlikely, or it would be more difficult, at least.

Ristah interrupted his thoughts by wrapping her arms around him and pressing herself against him, her breasts enticingly flush against his chest, laying her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “If you want me to leave, I will. I’m sure all this must be terribly annoying for you.”

Uncomfortable over her insight into his true feelings, he chuckled in a lighthearted manner and returned her embrace, sliding his fingers slowly through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous, pet, of course I’m not annoyed and I don’t want you to go, not at all. Let’s take a moment to briefly review our progress, thus far. When you touch me, you enjoyed that, and didn’t find it upsetting, but when I touched you...in a place only ever touched by your tormentors, it was clearly too much. What if I refrain from touching you, or only touch you where you don’t mind? Like your face, your arms, shoulders, your back? Those all seemed fine, but you tell me.”

Running her hands up and down his back while he spoke, she explored the bumps and ridges she could feel there, idly wondering what caused it before she finally nodded. “Alright, let’s try that.” She moved back enough to meet his eyes, searching them in concern. “But won’t it bother you if I only touch you and you can’t touch me back in a similar way? It’s hardly very fair.”

He smiled indulgently, genuinely amused over her constant concern for him and insistence on equality between them. What an unusual, surprising woman she was turning out to be. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be very happy with you touching me. I do have a particular something I’m hoping you’ll allow me, but if not this time, perhaps some other night.”

Ristah tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “What is it you want?”

Astarion smirked, stroking a hand across her cheek. “Apart from the obvious? I think I’ll keep that secret a bit longer, unless it looks like it will become possible. Would you mind if I remove my trousers?”

Holding his gaze, she shook her head. “No, if you take off the rest of your clothes, I wouldn’t mind. I can take mine off too, if you like. I’m used to being naked, it doesn’t bother me. Do you mind?”

Already up and in the process of disrobing, he laughed outright, angling his chin to give her a playful grin.

“Did you really just ask me if I would mind looking at your beautiful, naked body? Surely you can intuit the answer to that. Otherwise, this should leave you in no doubt,” he added, stroking a hand up his own firm erection. Lying down flat on his back, free of his clothes, he smirked, openly admiring her when she slipped out of the last of hers. He ran his gaze slowly over her curves and the unblemished, creamy skin he couldn’t wait to taste more of. Meeting her eyes finally, he wondered at the meaning behind the strange intensity that burned in her blue eyes.

Sliding up beside him, she half reclined, running her free hand over his chest. She traced his muscles, circled one of his nipples before sliding her hand down over the firm muscles of his abdomen. Ristah looked back up at him with furrowed brows. “Where do you want to feed from tonight?”

With a regretful look, he shook his head. “I think that’s off the menu, in light of your reaction to my touching you there.”

She gave a surprised laugh. “You want to bite me on one of my breasts?”

Lifting his hand, he pointed to a place on her left breast, just above her nipple. “Exactly there, that’s where I was hoping to drink from you.”

Her lids half lowered while her breathing sped, making him purse his lips thoughtfully at the renewed signs of her obvious arousal. “Do you like the sound of that, little beauty? Do you want my bite there?”

Ristah nodded eagerly, pressing closer and leaning over him to offer her breast. “Yes, bite me there, please. I want that.”

Sliding his hand up her back to urge her just a little nearer, he held her gaze while he grazed his fangs over her skin, then pierced her flesh at the same second he ran his tongue beneath her nipple. He closed his mouth over it, sucking her nipple and her blood at the same time. Her closed eyes and affected moan of pleasure sent an unexpectedly strong jolt of arousal through him, making him groan in pleasured response.

“Oh, hells, Astarion, that’s amazing,” she breathed, pushing his head more firmly against her while he continued to suck, feeling such euphoric pleasure from what he was doing. “Why do I love your bite so much? I thought it was supposed to hurt, not feel this good…”

As he continued to drink, she started to experience the same slightly drunk weakness overtake her again, like the time he took too much. “If you don’t stop, you’ll drain me completely,” she whispered, sighing half in relief and half in disappointment when he immediately released her.

She used her cantrip to heal, opening her eyes to give him a groggy, relaxed smile when he pulled her unresisting body up insistently, until she was fully upright and straddling his torso. Confused, she blinked down at him, doing nothing to stop him when he maneuvered her even higher, just above his chest and neck. Pressing a light kiss against her inner thigh, he turned his head to meet her eyes.

“This is what I was hoping you would allow me, sweetness. I’ve been waiting for this since the day we met and I had your lovely, tantalizing self pressed against me. At last, I get to devour you in every way I want, and I think you’re blood-drained enough to fully enjoy the experience, as I intend you to.”

With his red eyes gleaming up at her in passionate intensity, Astarion pulled her sex against his mouth and did exactly what he said he would, introducing her to the overpowering wonder of his skilled tongue lapping at her, his mouth sucking, devouring like he was starved for all of her. Never had she felt such a magnitude of pleasure, never knew such a thing could exist. Her whole body was a blaze of sensation, of feeling, and it was so, so...good!

Her moan was loud and long, her head falling back while her eyes slipped closed. He was pushing her toward something, with every lick, every suck, it drew nearer and nearer. Like a high level spell going off in flawless execution, her body exploded at the height of sensation, in warmth, a sonorous pulsation of ecstasy flowing over her like a wave. Nothing had ever felt so incredible.

Shuddering again when his licking slowed, the sensations gradually lessening, she opened her eyes to a completely new world. One where her body belonged to her, and its pleasure was truly hers to enjoy, thanks to Astarion showing her the way. Glowing with gratitude, she moved back enough to lay out flat across his chest and kissed him, her eyes shining with happiness.

“That was...so amazing! Thank you for opening my eyes to what’s possible, with a lover who actually cares.”

He gave her his usual confident smirk, tilting his head playfully. “It was my pleasure, darling, I assure you. I can now say with absolute confidence, that you really are delicious, in every possible way. Poor Gale, such a tragedy he’ll never have the answer to that question for himself, I almost feel sorry for him.”

Ristah giggled, scooting a little lower and sucking in a sharp breath when her wet, still sensitive sex slid over his very eager erection. He made an enticing sound between a groan and a sigh, and it was her turn to smirk when she shifted her hips and slowly took him inside of her, to the very hilt, not stopping until he was fully a part of her, buried deep.

She waited for it, tensing, but there was no pain at all, so different than what she had ever experienced before, he was different. She enjoyed the relaxed but passionate approval on his face when she started to move over him, shifting against him. He in no way tried to control her or guide her rhythm, but let her do exactly as she pleased, resting his hands lightly at her waist while he followed her lead.

Pushing herself to an upright position with her hands braced on his chest, she gave several experimental, cautious movements, wondering if she was doing it correctly, squeezing her inner muscles when she shifted again. Ristah gave Astarion a questioning look.

“How am I doing, is this correct?”

He smiled, gripping her thighs firmly while she rode him with ever-increasing confidence and single-minded focus. “You’re a natural, my sweet, just as I knew you would be. Keep doing what you’re doing, and we’ll soon both reach that mutual ecstasy we crave.” He groaned, his eyes drifting closed. “Yes, little love, use those wonderful muscles of yours, just like that.”

Urged on by his encouragement, she continued, gradually speeding her movements, eager to reach that same feeling from before, chasing it, but the second time it was...more. He moved his hand to touch her, so his thumb glided over her cl*tor*s, stroking her there while she moved atop him. It had everything inside her pulling taut like a bowstring, until she finally snapped.

Contracting around his hard length inside her, combined with him stimulating her cl*tor*s made her wail at the all-consuming feeling of coming together with him. His own beautiful little noises made her smile at the height of her own pleasure, thrilled they had both been served equally. Seconds later, when those amazing feelings receded, she felt totally exhausted. Drained but happy, in more ways than one. That thought made her giggle, sounding like a complete drunkard, which made her laugh harder.

Running his fingers through her hair where she lay collapsed on top of him, he hummed curiously. “Is that a response to how you feel, my sweet, or did you have an amusing thought?”

“Yes,” she replied, grinning against his chest with her eyes still closed. “I feel wonderful and drunk, and I was thinking I feel drained, but it struck me as funny since that’s applicable in more than one way, currently. I believe I’m going to consider you my very first real sexual experience, since I chose it. And because you made me feel things, pleasures I’ve never felt before.”

“That sounds rather fitting to me,” he replied warmly. “Since you are also my first, in a way. I was only permitted to drink the blood of animals before you offered yours.”

Lifting her head, she shifted enough to reach his mouth and kiss him, smiling at him when she finally pulled away from his lips. “Should I get off you now?”

Sliding his hands up and down her back, he shrugged, his red eyes full of a lazy, relaxed contentment. “Stay if you like. I do enjoy the feel of your warm, soft flesh against mine, and I’m in no hurry to get away from you. It took a great deal of effort to lure you here, pet. Let me gloat over my triumph just a little longer, hmm?”

“Mhh,” she agreed, laying her head back down and closing her eyes. Within seconds, Ristah had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~O~

When Ristah awoke to daylight the next morning, she was curled up comfortably on her side, a light blanket thoughtfully tucked around her, making her smile. She was pleasantly sore and still amazed by everything she experienced, and all Astarion had made her feel with his skill and touch.

Standing with his back to her, Astarion pulled on his underwear and trousers. Watching him in the early dawn light, she examined the markings on his back with great interest, fascinated by the design she could finally see in full. Realizing she recognized the script, she gasped and sat up with a pleased smile.

Looking back over his shoulder at her, his eyes smoldered, full of all the knowledge of everything that had passed between them during the long, full night, causing her to blush under his frank regard. He laughed, enjoying her discomfort he found so amusing.

“We’re surely past all blushing now, my dear, and may I say how much I appreciated your middle of the night…” He smirked wickedly. “Enthusiasm.” When her blush darkened further, he chuckled again. “After all that, I was sure you would sleep until midday. I’m glad to see your energy is just as boundless as your appetites and desires.”

Focusing her gaze on a tree branch behind him, she floundered awkwardly in her mind, searching for anything to take his attention off her and her embarrassment. “Um, I noticed your markings on your back. What do they say?”

At her question he lost all signs of playfulness or amusem*nt, pulling his tunic back on before turning to face her fully, his eyes distant and cool. “I haven’t the faintest idea what it says. Some damnable poem Cazador composed and carved into my back one night with his dagger, when he felt….inspired,” he finished with a sneer.

Frowning, she pulled the blanket higher to cover her breasts, feeling more exposed and brittle under his stare than she did before they had sex. How stupid of her to assume he might have started to develop tender feelings or real concern for her, just because he was willing to spend a single night in her company.

Something he likely never intended to do again, based on his body language, behavior and expression. He had probably only intended to use her, for unknown reasons of his own. He was a master of deception and manipulation, and she would do well to remember that. To think otherwise was to indulge in idiocy. Ristah gave herself a swift mental slap; she couldn’t afford to act like some infatuated fool, starry-eyed and ridiculous. Donning her own attitude of indifference, she allowed her expression to go as blank as his.

Dropping the blanket and her embarrassment, she blanketed her emotions instead, distancing herself from them, and stood. Proud of herself for being unaffected by how he watched her when she walked to her clothing and dressed in a relaxed, unhurried manner. Finally glancing over as she finished fastening all the little hooks on her top, she broke the silence.

“I suppose you’re no more capable of reading Infernal writing than I am. I was just curious to know what it said, that’s all.”

Astarion frowned, turning more to face her. “What? Infernal…? I…”

Crossing her arms, she examined his uncomfortable expression, narrowing her eyes. “You didn’t know? That’s Infernal script you bear. A pity I was never fluent enough to really read and write it, otherwise I might have translated it for you.”

The elf’s expression darkened further. “Who knows what that bastard, Cazador, decided to write on me. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Not anymore.”

Ignoring the combative, unpleasant mood Astarion seemed to be in, Ristah decided to say what she needed to and quickly get out of there.

“Thank you for last night, Astarion. You were unexpectedly patient and very good to me. I’ll never forget your kindness. I suppose I’ll see you later, or whenever.”

He looked at her in surprise, not expecting such an unaffected, nonchalant farewell. Not after the depth of passion and feeling she unleashed on him during the night. He expected her to be sentimental enough to at least request a kiss, or even an embrace. Odd that she didn’t. Was that...disappointment he felt? No, surely not!

From the last glimpse he caught of her eyes, he could discern no emotion in them at all. As she turned and ducked beneath the vines, he was left to brood over whether his seduction had truly been a success, or not. And why her speedy departure rankled so deeply.

Hurrying away before anything could become more awkward between them, Ristah breathed a sigh of relief when she made it back to her tent without encountering anyone. She did have to step over a few folk who were still sleeping near the smoldering ashes of the campfire, but that was all.

After being sure her tent was securely fastened, she sank to her knees on her bedroll, then flopped down and curled up on her side. Staring at the fabric wall of her tent, she glared and began silently chanting her new mantra she was determined to keep to.

I will not think about any possible feelings I have for Astarion. I will not think about having sex again with Astarion. I will definitely not permit myself to dwell on anything more to do with Astarion! He’s just another comrade, nothing else!

Nodding in satisfaction, she was pleased with her firm, unwavering resolve in the matter. If she told it to herself often enough, she might even find some way to convince herself it was true.

~O~