Swords and Seduction
Rating: Explicit/18+ Minors DNI
Pairing: Astarion/Named Tiefling Fem Durge OC
Summary: After asking his leader and defender for a night of passion, Astarion struggles to figure out how to whoo her.
Thank you to @bby-bel-art for creating a hilarious comic from the first chapter of this fic. It's gorgeous and perfect and I love it!!!
Read on AO3
Maybe they shouldn't have been such cunts to the Gur hunter.
The whole interaction with the vagrant had been an unexpected, but pleasant surprise for Astarion--at until blades were drawn. Despite his growing bond with the team’s murderous but sweet tiefling leader, he expected her to turn him in for some quick coin. He was, after all, a vampire spawn who currently spent most of his evenings feeding from her.
But instead, Henri toyed with the Gur, utilizing that silver tongue of hers to get more information, revealing Astarion’s identity dramatically in the way only a bard could.
It was, Astarion had to admit, intensely attractive.
And to Astarion’s great surprise, when their battle began, that pale blue tiefling bard of his rained hell down on that damn Gur, who unfortunately was quite talented at nearly bringing Astarion to his knees in only a few lucky hits. There was no doubt that Henri was responsible for Astarion staying alive, throwing healing spells at him with one hand while using the other to shoot the Gur with a crossbow.
Gale and Shadowheart, on the other hand, had been underprepared. Their spells had difficulty landing or even restraining the hunter.
“Shadowheart, did you not prepare Sancturary today or do you need your hearing checked?” Henri shouted back as she hit the Gur in the shoulder with a bolt. He grimaced, his chest becoming littered with more hits than his body could take. “For the third time, cast it!”
Astarion felt himself surrounded by golden holy light as Shadowheart finally cast the requested spell. He gave his attacker a smug little grin, safe in the knowledge he couldn’t be harmed further. The battered hunter, in a last ditch act of desperation, raised his crossbow and hit Henri twice straight into her chest, making her crumple to the ground.
Shit.
A shot of Astarion’s own bow finished off the Gur as he and Shadowheart ran forward to evaluate the tiefling's condition.
It's not that he cared about her, Astarion thought to himself, as he sank to his knees as Shadowheart started going through her bag, but it would do him no good if the person who just shielded him from being back in Cazador’s manicured claws died on the spot.
“Godsdammit,” Shadowheart breathed out as she turned Henri over, the delicious smell of their leader’s blood hitting his nose and making his mouth water as the blue of Henri’s padded armor slowly became soaked in red.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Astarion snapped at Shadowheart, “Heal her, damn you!”
Shadowheart's face twisted into a sneer as she started to go through her bag, “I'm all tapped out from keeping you up.”
His stomach did a flip. “So, you can't fix her? Is that what you're saying?”
“If you could shut up for one minute,” Shadowheart pulled out a healing potion from her bag. “Want to be actually helpful? Sit her up.”
It only took a few seconds for him to scramble behind Henri, lifting her head and shoulders as gently as he could manage, getting his legs under her so he could sit on his heels while her head and shoulders rested in his lap. Her hair was soft, he noted, for no reason at all.
“Hold her still. She's probably not going to like coming back from this and I don't want her injuring herself further.”
Astarion nodded, his hands bracing Henri’s shoulders. He glanced up at Gale who was watching and looking an appropriate amount of worried, Astarion supposed.
A tilt of the bottle into her mouth and Henri's eyes opened, coughing and sputtering weakly as the small swallow of potion made its way down her throat.
“Come on, keep going,” Shadowheart encouraged, “You've got to get all this down.”
The next few gulps sounded easier and already, their leader was looking much less corpse-like. After her last swallow, she leaned back again, looking up at him with large wet eyes, blood staining the corner of her mouth as she croaked out a weak quip.
“Hey, handsome. Get hunted here often?”
“Done with your little nap now, are you?” Astarion’s flippant response didn't land so flippantly as he intended, his words catching on the edge of his throat. “This isn't camp, darling.”
“Aw, I scared you real good, didn't I?”
Shadowheart rolled her eyes, “Ugh. The flirting. I should have let you die.”
“I'm glad you didn't.” Henri's smile was sweet if obviously pained as she took a couple experimental breaths, wincing as she did so. “Did you know it hurts when you get shot?”
Shadowheart frowned as she examined the holes left in Henri’s armor. “One of those bolts went through your left lung.”
“Lucky for me, I have two lungs.”
Shadowheart snorted. “The potion should have closed up any major damage. Make the hobble back to camp easier.”
“A return to camp sounds like an excellent idea,” Gale added, glancing around the area as he gingerly picked up the bloodied sack of items from the dead Gur. “I am absolutely knackered, and I’d rather not stick around here. Place gives me the creeps.”
Plans of camp and discussion of the swamp between the wizard and the cleric fell away as Astarion focused on Henri in his lap, absentmindedly brushing her hair from her face. Her eyes, soft deep maroon red, kept flicking over his features, like she was trying to commit him to memory. It felt...intimate.
“I'm surprised you shielded him, to be honest. Amusing as he is.”
Shadowheart's voice snapped Astarion back into the conversation at hand, making every muscle in his body tighten like a drawn bow. Of course the others were already turning against him, trying to sow doubt into Henri’s head about her decision to protect him. Wouldn’t do much good to feel safe for once in his life, would it?
Henri, however, didn’t seem phased, “Wow, Shadowheart, wanting to get rid of not just Lae'zel, but Astarion as well? Trying to get me all to yourself?”
Shadowheart’s cheeks turned bright pink, “You're in charge, of course. Not my place to question how you're allocating resources.”
“Astarion and Lae'zel are the best fighters in the party,” Henri stated coolly, staring daggers into Shadowheart, “And as much as I value and appreciate your skills in healing, I think we both know that hitting your targets is not your strong point.”
Maybe Astarion didn't have to worry as much as he thought he did. He couldn’t help but giggle at Henri’s jabs.
“I think standing by one's ally is a wonderful thing.” Gale cut in as Shadowheart looked as though steam could blast out of her pointy ears at any second. “Speaking of standing, how do we feel about trying that out?”
“Allow me,” Astarion said, slowly helping Henri sit up as Shadowheart muttered something to herself about of course the two men being fed by her would take her side. He carefully slid the tiefling's arm on her less injured side over his neck, wrapping his own hand carefully around her waist.
Gods, she smells delicious.
Astarion shoved the thought from his head as quickly as possible as he helped Henri to her feet. “While I appreciate the support, darling, I’d prefer you more intact in the future. Quite a waste of a snack.”
Shadowheart’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Gross. Let’s go. I desperately need a drink.”
Their small team made their way out of the swamp, two by two. Gale and Shadowheart leading Astarion and Henri. For all his talk of enjoying their walks in silence, Gale spoke up sounding far too innocent, “Just a quick question, if you don’t mind, Astarion. Why was this hunter after you specifically? Was killing him really necessary?”
Not the question Astarion wanted to answer, but given the circumstances, it was clear he needed to make sure the others knew he was the victim here. “If you must know, my old master, a vampire lord named Cazador Szarr, is looking for me. Should have known he would come after me. He always was obsessed. This Gur was obviously working for him. Why else would he want to bring me back alive to Baldur’s Gate?”
“This Cazador person sounds like someone with too much time on his hands,” Henri dryly commented.
“Oh, I assure you, he’s quite busy with coming up with new ways to make his spawn suffer. Flayings tend to lose their charm once you reach triple digits.”
“Well, you know, practice makes perfect. Don’t want a poorly executed flaying.” Henri twirled her finger at the front of her chest, “I obviously don’t remember mine, but the scars make it look like a kid’s enthusiastic first attempt at knife skills. It’s not work I would be proud of, that’s for sure.”
“Ha! Cazador didn’t even bother picking up a scalpel most of the time. He had a skeleton who did most of the torturing for him, Godey. Dreadful creature.”
Henri looked offended at the concept. “You have got to be kidding me. He couldn’t even bother-”
“You know what,” Gale cut back in, looking a bit ill, “I feel my conscience concerning that hunter is now much more at ease. So much so that we can discuss literally anything else.”
“Only if you’re sure, Gale,” Henri was smiling a knowing smirk, glancing at Astarion.
“Quite. And, Astarion, rest assured, if Cazador does find you, he shall not find you alone.”
A sweet, if naive sentiment. Astarion was more than aware of how weak their team was. Wyll had talked at length about how the tadpole had robbed him of several of his warlock abilities, and Astarion had to suspect the same had happened with most of the others in camp. Everyone seemed to be experienced spellcasters and warriors. Hells, even Henri who couldn’t remember her past, tasted sharply of power on his tongue.
Astarion, however, had never reached those heights of power that experience and adventuring could impart. He was going through all of this for the first time, trying to keep up. And right now Cazador would crush all of them.
You should ask her now. Right now. You already know what you’re going to say. You practiced this. This was always part of the plan. Ask her now while you have her attention and unwavering support. Like giving a dog a treat when it does well.
Led once again by the spirit of self preservation, Astarion found himself spitting out a well rehearsed purr, “You know, darling, I was just thinking about you. Our time together, the things we’ve shared. And I’m not just talking about that lovely neck of yours. I’m starting to like the whole package, honestly. And you clearly like me too. So...?”
Henri’s eyes widened as her brow furrowed in confusion.
“Oh good gods, really Astarion?” Gale groaned.
“Shush,” Shadowheart gave Gale’s arm a small whack, “I’m trying to listen.”
“The woman is half dead on her feet and he thinks now is the time for his peacock mating display?”
Henri rolled her eyes, “I can hold a conversation just fine, Gale, thanks!”
Astarion’s stomach twisted nervously. The wizard may have a small point. And Henri did, despite Astarion’s best efforts, at times listen to Gale. Did she also think he was ridiculous?
It was hard enough trying to choose lines that would work on someone not half drunk in a tavern who actually possessed two brain cells to rub together. Intelligence was a trait Astarion typically avoided in his marks. The academic types asked too many questions about where he was taking them or why the giant scary palace had all its curtains drawn and was crawling with bats with bloodstains in the carpet.
But Astarion needed someone smart to outwit Cazador. And so far, Henri, despite the occasional aimless wandering, muttering to herself, and odd saying about corpses and bones that seemed to spill out of her, was very promising.
And she hadn’t slept with the wizard. That alone showed great intelligence in Astarion’s book.
“Oh, pardon me,” Gale continued whining, “Of course, my mistake, this is a wonderful time to ask for a night of coital connection.”
The alliterative term made Astarion shudder, “Some of us, my dear wizard, desire passion and fun. Not whatever medical study you’re suggesting.”
“Okay, now I’m really confused,” Henri said, rubbing her temples, “What are you asking me, exactly?”
“Well, if Gale could shut up for five minutes...”
“Come on Gale, let Astarion dazzle us with some more of those more two copper paperback lines,” Shadowheart teased, “It’s not like you’re going to be able to stop him from asking. And I have a ten gold wager on the outcome.”
Gale grumbled something Astarion couldn’t hear, but did seem to be done at the moment. Astarion cleared his throat and continued. “Where was I? Right. I’m beginning to like the whole package, and you obviously like me too, so...?”
Henri blinked, her face contorting strangely as she looked to her armor soaked in her own blood, back at him, back at her armor and again back at him, biting the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “Beginning to like me, huh?”
“You were right,” Astarion heard Gale loudly whisper to Shadowheart, “I should have just let him talk.”
Shadowheart slapped Gale’s arm again. “Shut it!”
For better or worse, Astarion decided to press ahead with what he had practiced, screwing his most seductive smirk on his face, caressing her waist with a smooth glide of his thumb, “An obvious understatement, of course. As for you, your body’s already given you away. I could feel it as I was getting lost in your neck. Your little shakes of excitement. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
Henri paused their shared step. To Astarion’s great irritation, Shadowheart and Gale also stopped and turned to watch this little seduction of his unfold, Gale with his arms tightly crossed in front of his chest.
Astarion’s irritation melted away as Henri playfully tapped the front of his chest with her finger, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Says the person who nearly came on my thigh that first night he fed on me. I think we’re well past the point of establishing mutual affection, don’t you?”
“How wonderful to hear that we’re on the same page, my sweet,” Astarion crooned, “Why don’t we take an evening to ourselves, hmm? Get away from camp, away from this madness? Not to mention all the prying eyes and ears.” He gave Gale and Shadowheart a quick glare.
“You were the one who-!” Gale cut himself off and rubbed his eyes, pausing to take a long deep breath, “Can we please just go back to camp?”
Henri didn’t take her eyes off Astarion as she answered Gale, “Not yet, Gale. I’m fairly certain Astarion’s asking to have sex with me.”
“I told you beating around the bush was not the approach.” Shadowheart was examining her cuticles, doing her best to not look absolutely enthralled by this conversation. “She’s a big girl, she can handle directness.”
Gale was now the color of a roasted beet. “Hold on, you knew this was going to happen?”
“He literally practices his lines in his tent, Gale. Hush.”
Henri playfully bumped her hip into Astarion’s. “Aw, you practiced this? I’m honored.”
Astarion scowled at Shadowheart before turning back to Henri, “Don’t look so surprised, my dear. With all the hard work you put into this little endeavor, shouldn’t someone put in some hard work for you?”
Gale cleared his throat loudly once again taking up air that should be taken up by the tiefling Astarion was trying to fuck, “Not to interrupt, but just to remind you, Henri-”
“--Sounds like fun to me. Let me know when.”
Henri’s answer sounded more like a response to shut down Gale’s yapping more than an agreement to Astarion’s proposition. Under that flirtatious smirk and fluttering eyelashes of hers was something unreadable.
He could worry about that later. He had an answer in the affirmative and that was good enough for him.
Mirroring her earlier gesture, Astarion leaned over and gave her nose an affectionate boop with the tip of his finger, “Excellent. I just hope it’s not too long before we can steal away. But once we can, I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”
Henri finally glanced over at the Wizard of Not Shutting the Hells Up, tilting her head towards Astarion like she was sharing a secret, “Okay, but how are you going to let Gale down easy? I think he’s disappointed you didn’t ask him first.”
Astarion’s grin felt wider than his face, “Are you sure, my dear? Because I think he’s obviously jealous of me for snapping up someone as delicious as you.”
“Well, that sounds like I’m ten gold richer,” Shadowheart cut in before an upset Gale could say anything. “Come on, let’s get back to camp.”
As the four of them continued on, Gale now muttering far too loudly under his breath, Astarion couldn’t help but notice that Henri was quiet the entire rest of the way back, her gaze fixed ahead, lost in thought. What was she thinking about? Was she second guessing her answer? Had he planned this all wrong?
In what should have been his moment of triumph, Astarion only felt more lost than ever, hoping his one anchor he had chosen wouldn’t throw him back out to sea.
