Serilda and Aurella's mother take them below the city to finalize a business deal.
“Mother, where are we going?” Serilda shuffled alongside Aurella behind their mother, struggling to keep up.
She shushed her daughter and continued leading them through the near-dark while her mother’s bodyguard, Virgil, followed from behind all of them.
It smelled of damp dirt and stagnant air, and each step they took kicked up years of dust. It was eerily quiet; the sounds that often filled the city were swallowed the moment they stepped underground.
Aurella sneezed and gave her twin a worried look.
Grabbing Aurella’s hand, Serilda gave it a squeeze in an attempt to reassure not only Aurella, but herself as well.
There were rumors of this place; stories shared among the twins’ friends. ‘I heard there’s a whole city of sewer people down there.’ ‘Well, I heard it’s where they send all the unwanted kids.’ ‘I think it’s full of vampires. And I bet they sneak up at night and feed.’ Serilda never imagined they’d possibly find out, and she certainly never expected their mother to drag them here.
Every so often, they’d pass a gate or a rat would skitter by, but otherwise, it was simply empty stone walls. Up ahead, the area was far better lit, and Serilda saw two people standing in front of a large, heavy-looking door. They were armored, though it was so dark, they would’ve been nearly invisible were it not for the lanterns nearby. As the three of them approached, the others moved to guard the door, pulling out their weapons.
Virgil shifted behind them, his hand reaching for his own weapon.
Closer now, Serilda could make out a strange, deep red design in the center, appearing to be woven into the wood of the door itself.
“Who are you?” the man on the right asked.
“Melania Emberlin,” their mother replied. “I’m here for Cazador.”
The woman to their left looked at the two girls before turning toward the door. She placed her hand against the wood, and the red began to snake out of the center and into the grain of the entire door. It then split in the middle, opening just enough for the woman to slip through before closing right after.
“Who’s Cazador?” Aurella asked.
“I told you to shut it,” Melania hissed.
The sisters stood closer together, gripping each other’s hands as though that would protect them from any danger. They waited in silence.
Eventually, the woman returned with a man following behind her; he had dark hair and eyes a shade of brown that appeared almost red in the firelight, and a grin that made Serilda’s stomach turn.
“Lady Emberlin,” he said, his voice like the buzz of a wasp.
“You’re Cazador?” Melania asked.
He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I understand you’d like to conduct some business.” Cazador looked between the two girls standing behind her. “And which one of you is Serilda?”
At the mention of her name, Serilda’s heart leapt into her throat.
Cazador smiled at her, somehow figuring it out without a response. “I hear you’ve quite the gift,” he said.
Serilda remained still.
His grin widened, and his attention returned to their mother. “The standard rate.”
Her mouth opened, question upon question threatening to spill from Serilda’s lips, but Aurella squeezed her hand with such force it hurt and silenced Serilda.
“Standard and a half,” Melania offered, “and I’ll throw in the other.” She glanced at Aurella, disdain evident in the curl of her lip.
“I take it she has no discernable skill,” Cazador remarked.
“That’s why I’m only asking for half.” Melania shook her head. “She has a knack for going where she doesn’t belong. I’m sure you can do something with that.”
“Please don’t do this!” Serilda blurted.
The fury in her mother’s eyes turned Serilda’s blood cold and hurt worse than the back of Melania’s hand striking her cheek.
Tears rolled down her face. “I’m sorry, Mother!” Serilda cried. “I-I didn’t mean to hurt that boy. It was–it was an accident!”
“You killed that boy,” Melania said with a sneer. “Your magic is a curse. You’re a curse. My standing is at risk because of you.” She leaned forward into Serilda’s face. “You were supposed to be my perfect child. Aurella was always a problem, but you… it seems your father couldn’t provide me with even one child worthy of our name.”
She straightened and turned back to Cazador. “Well?”
With a slight narrowing of his eyes, he stared at Aurella for a time, as though searching for something in her face. “We are always looking to expand our little family down here.”
He returned his gaze to Melania, his grin now verging on smug.
Astarion x F!OC || NSFW (Not actual smut, but chomping turned horny) || 3562 words
AO3 & FF
Astarion seeks out a midnight snack and finds his attempted meal putting up a fight.
Crickets, running water, rustling of leaves, every noise that came with the night's falling grating on her ears. She couldn't sleep; her stomach twisted with a building anxiety she couldn't source. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she took a deep breath, hoping to calm her increasing heartbeat.
A faint whisper of shifting tent fabric stood out from the other restless sounds, and she instinctively wrapped her fingers around the dagger she kept near her pillow. Another noise, something pressing into the ground near her back.
In one swift motion, Aurella rolled onto her stomach and launched herself forward. Her shoulder collided with something hard, and it let out a grunted, "Shit!" as it landed on the ground. She was quick to crawl up to the intruder's torso and pin them down with her dagger against their neck.
"Wait!" Astarion's voice cut through the pounding in her ears.
He came into focus as she blinked, his white hair disheveled against the dirt. Her body held him down at his waist, and even as she recognized him, she didn't let up.
"It's not what it looks like, I swear!" he desperately whispered.
She pressed the blade further into his neck, not yet breaking the skin. "What in the hells are you doing?" she hissed. Her eyes burned as she blinked away welling tears.
His hands were on either side of his head in surrender, his eyes wide as he spoke. "I wasn't going to hurt you," he said. “I just...”
Again, she pressed her dagger and grit her teeth. "Just what?"
"I just needed, well…" He frowned and glanced away. "Blood."
Her heart pounded in her chest, and his words were nearly lost to the throbbing in her head. The dagger shook in her hand, the force grazing enough of his skin to draw blood.
"Aurella," he said. "I promise, I didn't mean…"
She gripped her dagger tighter, but her hands refused to stop trembling. Except for her continued shaking, her body wouldn't move, wouldn’t even blink as tears spilled onto her cheeks.
His left hand slowly reached down for hers holding the blade, and he carefully pulled it away from his neck. He said her name again, but she didn't acknowledge it.
Aurella let her weapon fall, and she turned and sat on the ground next to him. She heard him scramble away and to his feet; after a few moments, his legs came into view, several feet away, but still close enough to know he was waiting for her to do something. As her adrenaline dropped, and her chest began to rise and fall in rapid spurts, desperately trying to catch the breath that suddenly escaped her.
He stepped closer to her, movements hesitant. "I won't hurt you," he assured, holding his hand out.
Her eyes shot up at him, and she flinched away. "Don't touch me!"
Astarion yanked his hand back as his face fell. He stared a beat before he scowled at her. "What is your--"
Breathing still shallow and rapid, Aurella spat, "Just leave me alone." Her voice cracked as she spoke.
Without waiting for his response, she returned to her feet and rushed off into the trees. She ran, her lungs quick to burn. Once she felt she was far enough from camp where they wouldn't hear her, she collapsed against a tree and let loose the sobs that had suffocated her.
***
"Where's Aurella?" Serilda stood in front of Astarion's tent, throwing the question at him the moment he appeared.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Where. Is. She." Serilda narrowed her eyes at him as she crossed her arms. Her gaze fell to the fresh wound on his neck before returning to glare at him.
He threw his arms in front of himself, his mannerisms dramatic. "Why are you immediately assuming I had something to do with this?"
The others gathered nearby, eavesdropping, and not bothering to hide it. Astarion's eyes jumped to each of them, Gale's face was particularly scrutinizing.
"I heard the two of you last night," she seethed.
His stomach dropped, but he ignored it, willing his voice to hide any emotion beyond his typical apathy. "Regardless of what you believe you heard," he replied, "I don't know where your sister is."
She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her eye level. "If she doesn't come back," she fumed, "I will incinerate you."
His gaze bounced to each of her eyes, the same pale green as Aurella's, the same fury she'd looked at him with the previous night.
He held up his hands and rolled his eyes, despite a spark of fear shooting through him. "Fine," he said. "I'll go search for her."
She released him.
"I'll look too," Gale offered, heading in the opposite direction.
Wyll was quick to join Gale, as was his duty as the hero he so often claimed to be. Astarion ran off as Lae'zel made some dismissive comment about weakness and running away. He hoped she earned some of the ire Serilda had given him.
He entered the treeline where he'd watched her disappear the night before. Why it was his responsibility to find her, he didn't know; she was a grown woman and more than capable of returning on her own. And after her overreaction, ignoring his insistence that he wouldn't harm her, why would he even want to find her? Despite his inner monologue, he found himself growing increasingly… not quite worried, but concerned.
Onward, he continued searching, following what little scent of hers remained in the air. A faint smell of berries and honeysuckle and sweat that grew stronger the further into the forest he went. Stupid, he thought, to wander so far from camp alone.
His eyes fell on a curled body lying beneath a tree, the warm floral smell settling on its form. The knot in his stomach loosened for a moment before reforming at the thought of facing her. She might've left her dagger at camp--which he would return to her once he was sure she wouldn't attack him with it again--but her magic still posed a threat.
He rolled his eyes. "Shit," he breathed as he approached. His boots crushed the fallen leaves and twigs, but she remained unmoving. He could hear that her heart still beat, and he pushed back the sense of relief it gave him.
He hesitated, considering how best to wake Aurella before settling on simply nudging her with his foot. It took a few times, but soon she rolled over and reached for the area next to where her head had been.
"No dagger this time, unfortunately," Astarion sneered. He shrugged with one of his hands. "I suppose you could blast me with one of your special warlock powers, but who knows what sort of monsters or bandits are nearby."
Aurella pushed herself to her feet as he rambled and crossed her arms over her chest when he continued.
"Your ridiculously loud magic would alert any hostile being," he went on, seemingly unable to quiet himself. "We'd both wind up dead, and Serilda would likely curse you for getting yourself killed, and she'd burn my corpse until there was nothing left but ash."
"Are you finished?" she asked, her voice noticeably hoarse.
He opened his mouth to retort but closed it once he finally looked at her enough to see the red in her sclera and the swelling under her eyes. Astarion frowned before rolling his eyes. "Yes. I'm finished," he muttered. "Can we go? Your sister is eagerly awaiting your return."
Wordlessly, she walked past him in the direction of the camp.
As soon as the pair stepped into the clearing, Serilda ran over and stopped just short of Aurella. "What happened?" she asked, looking between Astarion and Aurella.
Astarion glanced at Aurella who stared at her sister, mouth partially open as if ready to speak, but no words would form.
"Aurella?" Serilda reached out and to touch her, but Aurella pulled back.
With a sigh, Astarion said, "I… have not been entirely honest,” he began, his words slow and considered. “I’ve not lied outright, but I haven’t been forthcoming.”
Gale and the others gathered behind Serilda, watching him with agonizingly suspicious eyes.
“I’m a vampire,” he finally announced. “I kept it a secret for fear you would all come after me with torches and pitchforks… not to put the idea in your heads.”
He looked at each of the onlookers and gave his most innocent smile; it was met with a mix of shock and disgust.
“Well, that explains the pallor,” Shadowheart remarked.
Serilda’s eyes settled on Astarion as she shook her head. "The boar. That was you," she muttered. Her brows furrowed. "I can't believe we didn't realize it. Wait, did you--" Her gaze jumped to Aurella's neck before filling with anger and returning to the vampire. "What did you do to her?"
"He didn't do anything," Aurella finally spoke. "He just… startled me, and I panicked." She moved to walk past her sister but stopped when Serilda grabbed her arm.
"Then why… Are you sure--"
"Nothing. Happened." Aurella hissed, tearing her arm away. "You can drop the concerned sister act. I'm getting my pack, and we can go. I'm sure the parasite won't wait for you to finally try fulfilling your role as the protective sibling."
Astarion watched, eyes wide and brows raised, as Aurella continued walking, leaving all of them silenced as she disappeared into her tent.
“So,” Gale said, either to cut the tension or pull it even tighter, “we’re traveling with a vampire, are we?”
Serilda turned back to Astarion, crossing her arms again and glaring. “I’m not sure yet.”
“You’d toss me aside over this?” he said, holding his arms out to his side.
“Given our group’s nature,” Shadowheart began, her tone flippant, “I don’t see much harm. We’re each monsters in the making, after all.”
“You are in no danger from me,” he insisted, with his hands raised as if to prove his lack of a threat. “None of you, including Aurella. Last night was… simply a misunderstanding.”
“You say all the right words,” Gale quipped, “but I’m not so sure you mean the right things.”
Astarion ignored the remark, holding Serilda’s glower with a look of anticipation. If she ordered him to leave, the others would likely support that, or anything she decided, even if they didn’t fully agree with it; she was their leader, for better or worse. She’d been the one to gather them after the crash, to form this band of doomed misfits after all.
Her lips pressed into a thin light before she released a sigh that sounded like it’d been building for as long as they stared at each other. “Unless Aurella says otherwise,” she said, “it looks like we’re traveling with a vampire.”
He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank you.”
“I never thought I’d see the day I found myself hunting with a vampire,” Wyll remarked before raising his fingers in warning. “But I’m keeping my eye on you. And no wisecracks about having us for supper.”
“Agreed,” Gale said. “And I taste absolutely awful, so you’d do well to keep your distance.”
“From any of us,” Lae’zel added. “Should I wake up with so much as a drop of blood on my neck, I will end you.”
It took a great deal of willpower to not roll his eyes and add that he was not one to make a mess of his meals.
“You have my word,” Astarion said, placing his hand over his heart. “No midnight feedings on any of you. I’m just glad you’re all being sensible about these revelations.”
“Tentatively,” Serilda reminded him. “Any move to go back on your word, or if Aurella decides she doesn’t want you here, it’s over.”
***
Her stomach flipped with each step she took toward Astarion; it seemed to roll entirely when she caught his gaze. Aurella stopped in front of his seated figure and pretended to not see the wariness in his eyes.
"Come with me for a walk," she said. It wasn't quite a demand, not quite a request. Without waiting for his response, she turned and headed for the forest.
She heard a sigh and the rustling of his clothes and boots as he got to his feet. The questioning glances of her companions bored into her back before being lost to the treeline. The broken twigs and pressed grass of last night's ordeal remained, and she followed the barely-there path, Astarion just a few feet behind her, until she found the tree she'd spent the night under.
Turning around, she leaned her back against the tree and crossed her arms. Her eyes met Astarion's suspicious gaze.
"If you've brought me out here to kill me," he began, his perfect smirk in place, "I promise I won't be going down easily."
She shook her head. "You said you needed to feed."
"I--yes," he stammered, his brow raising.
"How have you been keeping fed since before last night?"
"Not on people, if that's what you're asking," he replied. "I'm not some monster. I feed on animals! Boars, deer, kobolds--whatever I can get." His eyes drifted to the side. "I'm just too slow right now. Too weak."
"And feeding on an actual person would help?"
He nodded. "I would think clearer. Fight better."
She paused, appearing to contemplate his words. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.
"At best, I was sure you'd say no," he explained, his eyes returning to hers. "More likely, you'd ram a stake through my ribs. Well, perhaps once you realized the dagger wasn't effective."
She scowled but otherwise didn't acknowledge his comment.
"I needed you and the others to trust me," he continued, his head dropping a bit and looking at her through lashes that were darker than expected. "And you can trust me."
Another pause as she watched him, seeing no sign of deceit in his pleading red eyes. "Okay," she replied, her face and ears warming. "You can… feed… on me."
The shock on his face would've made her laugh had she not been filed with trepidation.
"Really?"
She pushed off the tree and stepped toward him. "Really."
"But last night," he began. "Why did you run off?"
Her cheeks darkened. "I didn't run because you were a vampire. Did you not hear what I told Serilda? You startled me, and I panicked."
"I thought…" He tugged at the strings of his wrist guard. "I thought you had run off because you believed me to be a monster."
"There are different types of monsters," she said. Despite her dark words, she smiled. "You're as much a monster as I am, Astarion, but you're not the sort I'd run from."
He blinked at her before breaking into a smile. “Thank you,” he breathed.
“Just don’t drain me dry,” she ordered.
“I only need a taste,” he said, holding up his forefinger and thumb. “I swear.”
With a deep breath, she nodded and turned her back to him. “I don’t want to see it coming,” she explained, though she worried more about the blush that continued to deepen in her cheeks.
His boots were heavy in the otherwise silent forest, each step louder than the last, even louder than her heartbeat. It stopped suddenly, and she felt his presence mere inches from her. She closed her eyes. A delicate hand rested on her waist as the other gathered her hair and placed it over her shoulder before it wrapped around her neck, his cold fingers soft as her pulse raced against them. He tilted her head, giving him ample room to strike.
The apprehension gave way to anticipation, a fluttering sensation pooling in her belly. Despite the chill that radiated off him, she felt enticingly warm.
Even his breath seemed frigid, but it was nothing compared to the shard of ice that surely pierced her neck; quick and sharp, and her already fast pulse increased. A familiar tingle settled between her legs, and she bit down on her bottom lip to quiet the moan that vibrated in the back of her throat. Her hand reached to cover his that gripped her waist, splaying her fingers between his and squeezing tight.
The pain soon faded to a strange numbness that spread from her neck to her chest--she wasn’t sure she still breathed. It traveled down her arms, down her legs and left her lightheaded, like a high that furthered her arousal.
She felt her blood race, spilling from her body and into his, and she leaned into him, welcoming the slipping of her consciousness. A strange mix, lust and a desire for nothing.
His grip on her waist tightened, and she opened her eyes to see the tree moving higher, the ground coming closer. Her legs folded beneath her, and her torso felt too heavy to remain upright, but he kept her held tight. She shifted in his embrace, squeezing her thighs together as her core pulsed with each drop of blood consumed by him.
Just a little more, and she’d be lost to the night. More still, and she wouldn’t need to worry about the following day, or the day after. No. The thought jolted her mind. Not yet.
Eyes fluttering shut, she mumbled a near-silent, “Astarion.”
He didn’t respond.
“Astarion,” she repeated, just as quiet. Her hand reached up and fell against the one that held her neck.
The vampire hummed in question before pulling away. “Sorry, I was just swept up in the moment,” he said, still holding her. “That was amazing.”
The entirety of her weight rested against him, and he turned her around to lean on the tree. Her head fell back against the rough bark, but it felt like nothing more than a brush of her hair. The euphoria of his bite remained, throbbing through her body and pleading for release.
He knelt in front of her and smiled. “It worked,” he laughed. “I feel strong.” His grin grew. “I feel… happy!”
She blinked at him, mouth barely open as she continued breathing hard. Her eyes fell to the blood staining his lips, and she wanted little more than to have him, to taste him. Returning her gaze to his heavily-dilated eyes, she reached out and wrapped her fingers in his tunic before tugging him forward with what little strength of hers remained.
The vampire offered no fight, rather he eagerly fell into her kiss. His mouth still warm from feeding, a delicious contrast to the cold of his touch as his hand gripped her back and held her against his body. He pulled her lower, away from the tree until he hovered over her entirely. Grabbing the hand that still gripped his shirt, he pinned it to the ground, his grasp slipping to her wrist and holding so tight her fingers tingled.
There was no affection, no emotion beyond sheer desire in this kiss; heavy and needy, painful even as his fang sliced her bottom lip.
He pulled away suddenly. “Wait,” he breathed.
Aurella pouted, her lip swollen.
With a chuckle, Astarion leaned back into his kneeling position and helped Aurella back up against the tree. He gave her his signature smirk and reached out to brush the blood off her mouth. “I’m afraid I would lose control with you,” he said, sucking his thumb clean. “As invigorating as you are, I need something more filling.”
Despite her disappointment, she returned his grin. “So hurtful,” she mumbled, “saying I’m not enough for you.”
“Oh, you’d be more than enough,” he replied, tilting his head. “But I need you alive, and even after just a short drink, I don’t think you’ll make it back to camp on two legs.”
“It certainly didn’t feel short.” With the rush of arousal and endorphins waning, her head bobbed slightly, the exhaustion of the night settling in. Her hand flopped forward as if to wave him off. “Go. Hunt. I slept here once before. I’m fine to do it again.”
He reached out once more and tucked a finger under her chin to keep her eyes on him. “This is a gift, you know,” he said, his smile holding an inkling of something more genuine than she’d seen on him before. “I won’t forget it.”
“I know.”
Astarion stood, his hand slipping away from her, letting her head roll to the side as her eyes fluttered shut. She heard his steps in the dirt and leaves, softer as the distance between them grew, until he was gone and the forest silenced.
Hours may have passed, or it could’ve been a few short seconds, Aurella didn’t know, and she didn’t care. She felt her head bobbing rhythmically against something sturdy, a faint beating pressed to her ear, and the familiar crunch of pebbles in dirt slowly grew louder as her senses returned to her. The smell of smoke and embers encased her but was soon replaced with leather as her back was placed against something only a tad softer than the ground. Aurella opened her eyes; her vision still blurry, even after she blinked several times, but just before she fell back into the clutches of sleep, she caught a flash of something curly and white.
Astarion x F!OC || NSFW (Not actual smut, but very suggestive foreplay) || 2338 words
AO3 & FF
Aurella and Astarion struggle to keep themselves entertained during a rather boring party.
The campsite was bustling with tieflings, singing and dancing, party already in full swing before Aurella and the rest of them arrived. Zevlor stood at the entrance, greeting them as they approached.
“I hope you’ll pardon them,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “They meant to wait for you all. But it’s been some time since they’ve had cause to celebrate.”
A sudden burst of laughter sounded near the fire, and Zevlor smiled, even as Aurella walked past him with little acknowledgement.
“I’m glad to see they haven’t forgotten how,” she heard him say to Serilda.
Aurella headed for her tent, eager to strip off her pack and armor and change into clothes she inexplicably stumbled on when visiting the tieflings the first time. She wore a deep red, linen shirt that was slightly too large; it hung loose around her chest, but she shrugged and tucked it into her waistband.
Returning to the party, her gaze fell to a pile of crates that the tieflings seemed to gravitate toward. She waded through the mass of already inebriated people and reached the boxes, smiling at the bottles upon bottles of what had to be alcohol. Without a second thought, she grabbed a few bottles; she’d need them if Volo’s singing wasn’t going to end anytime soon.
Bottles in tow, Aurella climbed onto the rocks near the center of camp and settled down on the cold surface, giving herself a good view of the party’s going-ons. Serilda was no longer near Zevlor, in fact, Serilda was nowhere to be found. It didn’t surprise Aurella; her sister didn’t seem the type to appreciate the chaos of drunks or fun in general. With a long swig, and a sour grimace afterward, Aurella simply watched. Her lip curled with every sip, the vinegar-tasting wine disturbing her senses, but drink enough, and she knew she’d no longer taste it.
The children ran around, occasionally bumping into a staggering adult, some of the others danced to Volo’s ‘song’ and others ignored him entirely, playing games that involved drinking if they lost and drinking if they won. Lae’zel was chatting with Wyll, and the way he leaned toward her made it seem like he was quite interested; Gale shared his thoughts and likely unwelcome history lessons with two of the tieflings, one carried a lute; and Shadowheart was probably still standing near her tent behind Aurella, keeping to herself. And it seemed someone had a mind to keep her company; the scuffing of boots on rock and a soft grunt sounded behind her shortly before kicking aside her empty bottles.
“Well,” Astarion’s soft voice said, now beside her, “this is rather boring.” He sat next to her, his armor also gone and replaced with a dark tunic.
“Just sitting here?” she asked. “Or the party in general.”
“Both.”
“To be fair,” she said, interrupting herself with a drink, “I’m only here until I get drunk enough to cause issues.”
He chuckled. “Do you really need to be drunk for that?”
She shook her head. “No. But it provides me an excuse for when Serilda inevitably scolds me.”
“She certainly seems the sort.” He took one of her bottles and pulled out the cork before taking a drink.
Aurella could feel his eyes on her, and just as she glanced at him, he turned away.
“You know,” he said in between sips, his tone growing contemplative, “I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He took another drink and scowled, his lip curling just enough to crinkle his nose. “I hate it. This is awful.”
She laughed. “I completely agree. Though, slaughtering the goblins was fun.”
“True,” he replied with a smile. “That was fun.”
“I’m sure there’s more fun to be had. Relax and try to enjoy yourself.”
“Enjoy myself?” he remarked, his sneer returning. “There’s a worm in my brain, I’m surrounded by idiots, and all I’ve got to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar. All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”
“Hmm.” She pursed her lips a moment. “Vampires are strong, right?”
His brow raised, and there was a look of amused intrigue at the question. “Of course, darling. Why do you ask?”
“Can you throw this high into the air?” She handed him one of the full bottles of wine. “Somewhere over Volo’s head.”
Astarion hesitated but eventually stood, eyeing Volo before looking at the empty air above him and launching the bottle just as requested.
While still sitting, Aurella lifted her hand and pulled it back, a red light emanating from her palm for just a moment before she thrust it forward, releasing a blast of magic. It caught the bottom of the bottle, bursting the glass and pouring wine all over Volo and his closest audience members.
They shrieked and shouted at the pair who simply let out barks of laughter.
“Oh, sometimes it’s the simplest of things,” Astarion said.
Aurella continued laughing, ignoring the angry words being screamed at them. One of the men hurled a bottle at Aurella, she stopped laughing just in time to see Astarion’s hand reach in front of her and catch it. She violently flinched and lost her balance.
“Shit!”
Unable to catch herself on anything, she slipped off the rock and landed with a hard grunt between the stone and a log. She rubbed the back of her head and groaned as she sat up.
Astarion stood on the other side of the log, laughing hysterically. “That was quite the entertainment!” he said.
“Which part?” she asked, still rubbing her back. “Drenching Volo or me falling?”
“Oh, take your pick.”
“Arse.”
He laughed again and offered his hand; she took it, the cold of his skin still jarring to her. Now on her feet, she brushed off her backside and pulled a twig out of her hair.
“I had meant to tell you earlier, my dear,” he began, voice taking a low, husky tone as he straightened her shirt and let his fingers linger, “that red certainly suits you.”
His fingers drifted up her sternum and to her neck, pushing aside her blonde hair and leaving a trail of cold; he stopped where two puncture wounds marred her skin, barely brushing over them before pulling his hand away. She suppressed a shiver and caught herself from leaning for his absent touch, instead plastering a smirk on her lips; the pain of her fall was entirely forgotten.
“You know,” he began, returning her grin, “rather than throw yourself off any more rocks, we could always amuse ourselves in other ways.”
“Are you going to throw yourself off a rock next?” she asked, crossing her arms. “That’d be rather amusing.”
He rolled his eyes. “There are far better ways to wind up bloodied and bruised,” he replied. “Just you and me. Getting a little closer, so to speak.”
She sucked in her lip, appearing to contemplate her answer. “Maybe,” she finally said. “If you say ‘please.’”
His brow furrowed, but the smile remained. “What?”
Tilting her head, Aurella said, “I fell off a boulder, and you laughed at me. My ego’s hurt. I could use a little begging.”
The smirk softened, and his eyes widened as his eyebrows reached up toward his hairline. “Please.” His hungry grin immediately returned.
She leaned her body toward him, ignoring the heat building in her cheeks; her hand reached out and hovered just over his waistband, taunting him a bit before jabbing his stomach with her finger.
"Okay." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as he shook his head.
"Cheeky little pup." He pulled away from her. "Let's wait until things quiet down."
"All right."
"Now, how to kill time?" he muttered, looking past Aurella.
She turned toward the mass of tieflings. "I don't know about you," she said, "but there's an interesting game of cards going on over there, and I see a few coins on the table. I wouldn't mind winning some gold from drunkards." She glanced back at him. "Or horny vampires."
"I suppose there are worse ways to waste my time," he decided. "And just so you know, I cheat."
“So do I.”
The pair was side-eyed as they approached, Aurella’s stunt still fresh in their minds, but at the dropping of their coin purses on the table, the tieflings welcomed them. They were dealt in, and it didn’t take long for the two to settle into a routine of counting cards and stowing aces; the tieflings were too far into their drinks to notice, but Astarion and Aurella watched each other, tutting whenever they caught the other.
How much time had passed, Aurella wasn’t sure, but things had quieted, most of the tieflings were in bed or making their way there. Astarion had wandered off during their last hand, claiming to need some air. After a few more rounds, she dumped her winnings into her coin purse and disappeared into her tent. She waited, anticipation building with each torch being blown out and each body shuffling into a bedroll.
When silence finally fell, she left her tent and tiptoed around the scattered sleepers, following the general direction she’d seen Astarion take. She walked out of the clearing and found herself surrounded by trees and a chill the open area lacked, but she saw no sign of the vampire. Continuing forward, she took careful steps over the roots and around the tree trunks; she had no doubt he knew she was there, and he was simply toying with her.
Just as she considered turning back, a hand snaked around her waist, and a cold pair of lips whispered in her ear.
“I’ve been waiting,” he purred. He pulled her flush against him and brushed his lips against her neck. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”
Aurella placed her hand on the one resting on her waist. “I wouldn’t say you have me just yet.” Her stomach flipped as he chuckled against her skin, one of his fangs just barely grazing her.
“Don’t I?” he asked. “You’re here. And… I don’t think you want to talk.” He turned her around to face him, hand now pushing into her back, keeping their lower halves pressed together. “I think you want to be known,” he said, dipping a finger under her chin and keeping her fixated on him. “To be tasted.”
She smirked despite the color pooling in her face. “And what do you want?”
“What do any of us want?” he replied, his lips matching her own taunting. “Pleasure.” His thumb gently pushed her head to the side as he leaned down and kissed her neck, rougher than before. “Yours. Mine.” He spoke between breaths. “Our collective ecstasy.”
He pulled away from her, his eyes searching her face. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asked, quickly falling back into his perfect grin. “To lose yourself in me?”
The red of his eyes seemed brighter, more threatening, nearly every inch of her being screaming at her to flee, but all she felt was curiosity and a burning desire to give herself to him. She had no snarky retort, no witty remark. She simply breathed a soft, “Yes.”
“I thought so.”
His lips claimed hers as he grabbed either side of her waist and lifted her, guiding her legs around his torso. With a few steps forward, he balanced her against a tree as their mouths and tongues fought for dominance; he tasted of turned wine, the campfire’s smoke, and metallic threats. The bark of the tree dug into her skin through her top as he pushed against her, leaving no room between them. His hands ran down her torso and began pulling at her shirt, untucking it from her waistband.
Before he could slip under, Aurella reached back and gave a hard push against the tree, knocking them off-balance. They toppled backward, Astarion landing under her with a grunt, Aurella still straddling him.
He looked up at her, brow raised in confusion and then interest as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head, leaving her torso completely exposed. He sat up, digging into her waist for leverage, and pressed a cold kiss between her breasts before traveling upward to her throat.
Just as he pulled away to look at her, she grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward, kissing him again as she gathered her hair with her other hand and pulled it over one of her shoulders. They paused for breath, and she took the opportunity to bare her neck to him, the invitation obvious. His words had promised pleasure, but he could offer pain in equal measure and, in that moment, it was just the same to her.
The vampire’s eyes widened, pupils dilating further as his tongue flitted over his lips. He kissed her again and wrapped her in an embrace as he pulled them both back to the ground. In one fluid motion, without breaking the kiss, he rolled them over and braced himself on top of her; his mouth wandered from hers, lining her jaw then dipping below to her neck, kissing where he’d bitten her before.
Her fingers brushed against his ribs and moved up his side, reaching for his back; she felt something raised through his shirt, but he twisted slightly and grabbed her wrist, pinning it to the ground above her head just as his other wrapped around her neck.
She reached for his hand with hers, digging her nails into his skin, but she didn’t attempt to pull him away, rather she held him in place and forced him to grip her tighter.
After one last kiss to her neck, his fangs reopened his previous bite; the sharp pain quickly subsided to euphoria, and she let out a pleasured moan as he took his fill and she readied for her own.
Aurella meets the only survivor she’s found so far, and they immediately hit it off.
Aurella groaned as she pushed herself up off the ground. Purple bits of the ship were scattered around her, the tank that held her now on its side, broken. She brushed the dirt from her clothes and grimaced when she heard the crunch of sand between her teeth. Her sword was half-buried in the dirt, but it appeared undamaged; returning it to her belt, she cast a final glance at her pod before venturing off and trying to figure out where she wound up.
The bulk of the ship laid in ruins, chunks thrown here and there, and she wondered if anyone else had survived. Possible, given that she hadn’t been crushed or eviscerated when landing; the numerous dead bodies said otherwise. But she appreciated the free loot since she had almost nothing on her person; if she found a town or anything, it’d help to have some coin. She was lucky to still have her sword, but it wasn’t as though she was defenseless without it.
Continuing up the hill, she caught sight of someone with their back to her; as she attempted to hide, not trusting a stranger to simply let her by, her foot snapped a twig in two. The stranger whipped around at a sound he shouldn’t have been able to hear, and after a moment’s glance, the elf waved at her.
“Over here!” he called out.
She sighed but approached him, figuring at the very least, he might know where they were. As she stepped closer, she saw a pod like her own fallen against a tree. Not a local, then.
His attention drifted between her and something in the bushes to his left. “Hurry,” he said. “I’ve got one of those… brain things cornered.”
The glint of his dagger caught her eye, and she maintained her distance even as she moved closer to him.
“There, in the grass,” he said, pointing. “You can kill it, can’t you? That sword isn’t for just show, I take it.”
“You’ve got a weapon,” she remarked. “Handle it yourself.” She waved her hand flippantly before turning to leave.
“I was hoping for a kind soul,” he said behind her. “Well, not to worry.”
Before she could react to the threat in his voice, his dagger was pressed against her neck while his other arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling them both to the ground. Instinctively, she reached up for his alabaster wrist, attempting to pull the blade away, but he was stronger than his frilly clothes suggested.
“Is this necessary?” she said with a scowl.
He shushed her and smiled threateningly at her. “Not another sound. Not if you want to keep that lovely neck of yours.”
Risking the reaction of him slicing said neck, Aurella slipped her hand over his and released a shock of lightning.
“Augh! You little--”
He pulled back, and she used the opportunity to roll away and jump to her feet, unsheathing her sword just as he stood up.
The elf’s smile was replaced by a vicious sneer. “I saw you on that ship,” he hissed, “strutting about while I was trapped in that pod.” His arm gestured to the tank behind him. “What did you and those tentacled freaks do to me?”
Her grip on her sword tightened as she spoke. “I didn’t do a damned thing to you.” She smirked. “Put down the dagger, or I promise that sentence ends with a ‘yet.’”
He returned her threatening grin. “You arrogant little--Augh!” His words were cut short as he veered back, gripping the back of his head.
Aurella reacted similarly, a sharp jolt of pain shooting through the skull and into her temples, like claws seeking to escape her mind. She saw herself stalking through dark streets, but the image was too sharp, too perfect to be through her own eyes. The noise of bustling taverns and closing shops too loud for her ears. Aurella tried to focus on what she saw, but only caught a glimpse of a pale, lanky hand that didn’t belong to her reaching to push back unfamiliar curly hair as she looked up at the sky. Unexpected light blinded her, and a fear she’d never experienced before settled in the pit of her stomach, her limbs screaming to flee. And then, the image slipped away.
She blinked, the sallow elf returning to focus.
“What was that?” he breathed, stumbling as he regained his surroundings. “What’s going on?”
Her fingertips pressed into her temple, the pain dulled but still present. “I don’t know. I think I saw… you. Or I was you. Walking the streets in the middle of the night.”
“It sounds like you saw a glimpse of my past,” he remarked, seemingly more steady on his feet. “And I believe I saw yours.”
The pair stared at each other for a time before the elf tentatively calmed his stance and held his dagger at his hip. Aurella allowed a moment of making him question whether she’d lower her weapon as well before finally doing so.
His shoulders relaxed further as he let out a sigh. “It’s those tentacled monsters,” he said. “Whatever they did to us caused that link. They took you too. I saw it during… whatever just happened.” He waved his hand and chuckled as he sheathed his dagger. “I’m half-tempted to spill your guts all over the dirt anyway, but for now--apologies.”
Aurella smirked, feeling emboldened now that the threat had passed. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have enjoyed seeing you try.”
“Is that so?” he replied, raising a brow. “The day is still young, though I’m not sure how long we’ll have with these things in our heads. I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone that little entanglement.”
“Shame, but you’re right,” she replied, her smile dropping a moment before returning. “And I have to say, an apology is a sad offering after threatening to kill me.”
“Well, I’m out of wine and flowers,” he said with a scoff, “so I hope an introduction will suffice. My name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me.”
She crossed her arms. “So was I. My name’s Aurella.”
“Aurella,” he repeated. “We clearly move in different circles.”
“It would seem so,” she remarked, eyeing the ruffles of his torn tunic.
“So,” he sighed, resting his hands on his lower back, “do you know anything about these worms?”
“I’m sure you know as much as I do,” she replied.
“I suppose it’s not exactly common knowledge,” he said, his arms falling to his side. “These worms are already affecting me. I can feel it. Now, what to do about it…”
She pursed her lips, wondering, beyond the telepathic connection they’d experienced, how he was affected, but she didn’t ask. “Any ideas? Or are you planning on keeping that to yourself? I would consider a plan a good addition to your apology.”
“Aren’t you cheeky,” he muttered with a grin. “Getting out of here would be an ideal start. Then finding anyone who might know about these worms. We need an expert, someone who knows how to control these things…”
“I prefer it be taken out entirely.”
“Well, yes, of course,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But first things first.”
She held up her hands. “Fair enough.” Pausing a moment, she eyed him, considering her next words. “You know, I could… use the company. I have no idea where we are, and if this worm is going to make my head burst, I at least want an audience.”
He let out a short laugh. “I was ready to go this alone, but,” he returned her scrutinizing gaze and smiled, “maybe sticking with the herd isn’t such a bad idea. And watching your head explode is a rather enticing thought. All right.” He gave a half-hearted bow. “I accept.”
This fic has no meaning or point or anything like that, it was just fun to ramble on about a glimpse into this fantasy version of Full House @curiousartemis and I have talked about. It stars Halsin, Astarion, Gale, and our OCs, Serilda, Aurella, and Imryn ( @curiousartemis‘s ). There isn’t even a plot or anything xD but it was fun to write! It has not been edited, it has not been re-read. I don’t even know if it’s legible.
Ships mentioned: Halsin x F!OC, Astarion x F!OC, Gale x M!OC || SFW || 2340 words
Serilda and her found family attempt to celebrate the holidays.
"Have you read this one yet?" Gale asked Imryn, pushing a well-worn book into the drow's hands. "It discusses how much of Midnight may yet still reside within Mystra."
Imryn accepted the book, his dark cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink the moment Gale placed his hand on Imryn's arm.
Gale added, "It's a fascinating read."
Serilda smiled, the amusement of watching the pair of intelligent yet oblivious men never waned.
She glanced at Astarion and Aurella, the pair whispering conspiratorially, which typically meant trouble for the rest of the household, and the few times it didn't were simply misdeeds none but those two could find. And with the number of drinks Aurella had downed, it was sure to be a doozy. Serilda sighed, shaking her head at whatever her twin and the vampire planned.
The front door swinging open echoed into the room, shortly followed by Halsin's boots clicking on stone flooring. He soon poked his head into the great room, as wide a smile as any plastered across his face. It always made her heart swell. On his shoulder rested a large pine tree, much larger than was necessary, but that was typical of Halsin: above and beyond for any holiday, whether it was druidic or Baldurian or originating in their new home of Waterdeep. Thankfully, now that they were settled in a house much larger than when they lived in Baldur's Gate, Halsin no longer needed to consider size constraints when planning for the holidays (not that he had before, which led to a number of nubbed off trees).
"I found the perfect tree!" he announced, walking across the room. He rested the tree on its side and undid the burlap that held the soil in place; he always returned the trees to their original home the day after the celebration.
"You say that every year," Serilda remarked, stepping next to him and placing a hand on his back. Even fresh out of the cold, he radiated warmth.
"And every year, nature provides the perfect one," he replied. He placed the tree in the pot and wound an arm around Serilda's shoulders. "Now to decorate it!"
"Excellent," Gale remarked. He moved next to Halsin and eyed every branch. "This is the perfect opportunity to sharpen your dexterity, Imi." Gale glanced back at his pupil who returned his gaze with one of slight confusion. "It'll become quite clear in just a moment!" The wizard dashed out of the room, leaving Imryn little to do but look to Serilda in question.
She shrugged. "I've given up trying to guess where his mind leads," she said, smiling.
Aurella moved to stand behind the tree. "I think there's a bald spot here," she said, jabbing her finger toward the tree.
"There is not," Halsin insisted. "I was very thorough in my examination of the trees. And, even if there was, it would matter little since it's still a beautiful gift provided to us by Silvanus, and I am grateful."
Aurella rolled her eyes and muttered something about keeping the tree-hugging shit to himself before finishing off her drink. As soon as Astarion approached, she held her empty glass to him and stared up at him through her lashes. "Can you get me another one?" she asked, giving her best attempt at puppy eyes, though she looked more like a devious kitten.
"Are you suddenly incapable of walking to the kitchen?" Astarion said, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, come on," she whined. "You make it better than I do. And it looks like you need a drink yourself." She took her free hand and batted at his empty ones before tangling her fingers in his. When he merely replied with a raise of his eyebrow, she pulled him and leaned forward, her lips right at his ear.
Serilda couldn't hear what was said, but the growing smirk on Astarion's face told her more than she needed to know. She happened to peak at Imryn who appeared to be making a great effort in not watching the exchange.
Gale returned, much to Imryn's obvious relief as he hurried toward him and grabbed the top box from the pile Gale was balancing in his hands. When Gale placed his boxes on the ground, Imryn did the same and tilted his head as Gale pulled off the top and revealed a myriad of colored baubles.
"Tree decorations?" Imryn asked, lifting one and admiring it. "Glass? Is this… wise?" His eyes drifted to where Astarion and Aurella had been previously standing but were now gone.
"Yup!" Gale stood and placed his hands on his hips. "They're enchanted, so unless someone tosses them across the room, they should be fine."
Serilda shared in Imryn's concern, but Gale knew Astarion and Aurella long enough to know whether they could be trusted with such things--well, mostly Aurella.
"I know what you're thinking," Gale said, glancing from Imryn to Serilda. "But I don't think we'll have a repeat of last year's… incident."
Halsin's eyes dragged from the bottom of the tree to the top, which stood several feet higher than even the druid, a slight fear in his eyes. "I hope not."
"I can make it," Aurella slurred. "I just… need… come on. Give me a hand, Astarion!"
"Oh, no, my dear," he replied with a wave of his hand. "I'm far more interested in discovering how high up you manage on your own."
"What in the hells are you doing!" Serilda came rushing at the sound on glass bursting on the floor. "Why are you in the tree!"
More ornaments fell with each movement Aurella made, but she didn't seem to notice or care. Serilda assumed it was most likely the latter. She moved to grab Aurella, but Astarion held his arm out to stop her.
"I am begging you to let her finish," he laughed. "I will even sweep up the mess she's made."
"What is going on?" Gale called just as he ran into the room with Imryn close at his heels.
"Why… why is she in the tree?" Imryn gawked. "Is she stuck?"
"No," Serilda spat. She shoved Astarion's arm away but didn't reach out for her sister. "She's just--I don't even know what she's doing other than giving me a headache."
"There's a drink for that," Aurella said, looking down at everyone.
Halsin was next to witness the strange but somehow not surprising site. Confusing, certainly, but not surprising.
"What is she doing to the tree?" He dropped his bag of what Serilda assumed was more decorations.
"Astarion, would you be so kind as to enlighten us?" she asked. "You're usually involved when she pulls these stunts."
"That's hardly fair," he whined. "I didn't tell her to go climbing up the tree like some monkey."
"Do you at least know why?" Serilda asked, her jaw clenching.
"Oh, please, allow her to explain," he replied with a wide smile that never meant anything good, his hand gesturing toward Aurella. "Why, my love, are you climbing the tree?"
"Because," she began, cutting herself off with a short hiccup. "Because we need a star at the top, and I'm gonna be the star."
As she spoke those last words, the hefty tree finally gave up trying to hold her weight and toppled over, bringing with it numerous bulbs that shattered on the floor. The tree landed on top of Aurella, leaving only her limp hand sticking out.
Astarion’s laugh echoed in the otherwise silent room, doubling over and clutching his stomach.
“Why would you do that?” Gale admonished. His face fell as he lifted a particularly large piece of an ornament and examined it.
“Are you okay?” Imryn asked, rushing by Gale and kicking aside the broken glass.
Her hand remained still.
Halsin sighed and lifted the now-ruined tree, returning it to its pot and revealing a slightly bloodied Aurella.
Other than the shallow cuts on her cheeks and forehead, she appeared fine. Her eyes didn’t move however; they appeared fixated on the ceiling.
Serilda took a deep breath and walked past Astarion to the nearby closet. She returned with a broom in hand and bopped the vampire’s still-bent forward head with it; as soon as he straightened, she shoved it into his chest, and he took it from her without argument.
“Aurella?” Imryn knelt beside her.
As he began examining her, looking for signs of concussion, Aurella turned and looked at him, her eyes shining as she frowned. “I didn’t get to be the star.”
“I have hope that Aurella won’t try the same mischief twice,” Gale said. “Not if it failed the first time.”
“You’ve known her for how long, Gale?” Serilda asked, voice laden with doubt. “But I firmly requested that Astarion keep her from breaking anything this year.”
Gale scoffed. “And you think he’d actually do that? I think he enjoys watching her resulting chaos just as much as she enjoys creating it.” He smiled and added, “You’ve known Astarion for how long, Serilda?”
“It’s the holidays,” Halsin said. “I think we’re all granted a bit of false hope.” He placed his arm around Serilda and squeezed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, before we begin decorating the tree, we’re all to change into our ugly sweaters.” He grinned at Gale and Imryn, a silent plea to indulge in his holiday spirit.
“As is tradition,” Gale replied.
“I, uh, don’t have any ugly sweaters,” Imryn muttered. He glanced at Gale.
“I have plenty!” Halsin boomed just as Gale opened his mouth.
Before anyone could object, the startingly fast elf hurried out of the room and toward his and Serilda’s bedroom.
With an apologetic smile directed at Imryn, Serilda mouthed, “Sorry.”
Imryn returned her smile, offering one last glance at Gale, disappointment evident in his eyes. The druid appeared soon after, lugging two sweaters in his arms, only one of which looked like it would fit Imryn, but any hope he may have had of not looking absolutely ridiculous was quickly crushed when Halsin handed the smallest sweater to Serilda.
“Here!” Halsin said, holding out a red sweater adorned with sewn-in tinsel and embroidered snowflakes. He already donned his own; a green one with a bear crocheted in the center, and actual mittens sewn over the paws, surrounded by tinsel similar to Imryn’s and dangling miniature bulbs.
Imryn accepted it with a smile that wavered on a grimace.. He pulled it over his head--well, there was actually no pulling needed given the sweater was made for someone more than twice Imryn’s size. The fabric swallowed him.
Serilda covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, but Halsin saw nothing wrong and simply beamed.
The young drow held his arms out to the side, inspecting the draped sleeves and sighing. “Thank you,” he said, avoiding putting a dent into Halsin’s holiday spirit.
Gale patted Imryn on the shoulder, allowing his hand to linger just long enough to cause Imryn’s cheeks to burn pink. “I’ll be right back,” Gale announced before turning toward his own room.
“I’ll go get Astarion and Aurella,” Halsin offered.
“I wouldn’t open the door to any rooms you think they’re in,” Serilda warned. “Just knock, shout, and hurry away.”
He laughed heartily and nodded before heading toward the kitchen.
“It’s not the worst sweater ever,” Serilda said to Imryn once Halsin was out of ear-shot. She pulled on her own; a blue one with silver bulbs and snowflakes and an argyle design behind.
Imryn lifted his arms again. “No, it’s just a little… big.” He smiled sheepishly.
“It’s a shame Gale wasn’t a little quicker with his words,” she remarked. “I’m sure he had a spare, and it certainly would’ve fit better.” She tilted her head, a knowing grin on her lips.
He looked away and at the tree, it’s pines seemingly far more interesting than whatever Serilda said.
She chuckled softly just as Gale returned, already wearing his sweater with a large cat in the center of a pine tree.
“That would’ve been perfect for last year,” Serilda remarked, Aurella’s star-stunt coming to mind.
Gale smiled at her and stood beside Imryn. “Why don’t we begin decorating?” he asked his pupil.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Halsin?” Imryn asked, turning toward Gale.
Serilda shook her head. “Go ahead. I’m sure he’s busy fighting with Astarion and Aurella to get them to wear their sweaters.”
“Would you care to join in?” Gale asked. He motioned to the boxes beside the tree. “There are plenty to hang.”
“I think you two are fine without me,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
She left the two wizards alone in the great room, smiling to herself. She heard Gale walking Imryn through the steps of a telekinetic spell, one they were forced to use every year since Halsin’s trees were always several heads higher than any of them. Serilda settled at the table, picking at the fruit tray Halsin had left out earlier.
His voice soon traveled through to where she sat, as did Aurella’s and Astarion’s.
“We do this every year,” Halsin said, the exasperation evident in his voice.
“And every year, I deny such ridiculous requests,” Astarion huffed. “This is my compromise.”
Halsin sighed.
“I didn’t argue this year,” Aurella bragged.
“No, but I much would’ve preferred that over… this,” Halsin said.
The three of them entered the kitchen, and Serilda simply shook her head. Astarion wore an all-black sweater, and Aurella…
“Why?” Serilda asked.
“It’s ugly, right?” Aurella smiled and spun in a circle, showing off the sweater. It was similar to Imryn’s, only Aurella had made some adjustments, cutting out two circles over her breasts, leaving her near-see-through bra exposed.
“Why?” she asked again.
Aurella shrugged. “If you want me to participate, you’ll let me do so on my terms. At least mine fits the theme.” She looked pointedly at Astarion.
He rolled his eyes. “Mine is a sweater. And it’s ugly.”
The party meets Halsin, and Serilda puts up with her twin’s attitude.
The bear stood eye level with her, watching her with a tilt of its head. Goblin bodies and stench surrounded them, and while the threat of the bear remained, Serilda hoped this bear was actually the person they were searching for. It blinked at her, and she swore she saw its mouth twitch into a smile before it shifted its weight to its hind legs and began to glow. The body morphed into one more sapien, and the light dissipated, revealing a very large, wide-smiled elf.
He shook his hand, flicking away goblin blood and grimacing when something solid hit the ground.
"Pardon the viscera," the elf said in a warm, deep voice. "One should cherish all of nature's bounty, but goblin guts are quite far down the list."
Serilda let out a nervous chuckle, still in shock at the sight before her: not that the bear had turned into the elf--she’d seen that already in the grove--but that the elf was so… big. He stood over a head taller than her--to meet his eyes required her to crane her neck a tad--and his sheer bulk was nothing short of impressive. And he was admittedly attractive, even with the deep-set scars running across his face.
“You aided a bear without knowing if it would savage you,” he remarked with a laugh, his facial scars moving as his eyes crinkled. “A true friend of nature--or perhaps a lunatic.”
“I believe the lunatic would be my sister,” Serilda said, shooting a glare at Aurella. “I’m so sorry she goaded those children on.”
“Whatever,” Aurella scoffed as she rubbed goblin blood out of her blonde strands. “They were having so much fun. How could you not join in?”
The elf shrugged. “It is easy to fall into the wiles of children.”
“You’re lucky he wasn’t a real bear,” Astarion muttered, nudging Aurella’s arm and smirking. “You deserve to be torn to shreds.”
Aurella returned his smirk. “I’m sure the sight would be one you’d keep in mind when alone in your tent.”
Astarion opened his mouth to retort--or continue their disturbing flirtations if his grin was anything to go by--but Serilda’s groan quieted him. She rubbed her leathered hand against forehead and sighed.
“Either way,” the elf continued, a smile playing on his lips, “I owe thanks. I am the druid Halsin.”
Serilda grinned, “I’d hoped so. We were asked to find you.” She sucked in the corner of her lip, considering spoiling the rescue with grim news. “The druids are about to perform some rite and close off the grove, leaving the Tieflings stranded or killed.”
“What?” his grateful demeanor changed abruptly. He set his hands on his hips and sighed, looking down at the ground. “Kagha. We must return to the grove. I cannot allow this rite to be completed.”
“She thinks she’s saving it.”
“This is my doing,” he admitted. “I foolishly left it vulnerable to this rabble.” His eyes returned to hers, and again, his features shifted. “There’s more, isn’t there?” He stepped forward and leaned down slightly. “That look in your eyes--in all of your eyes--I’ve seen in before. Are you feeling all right?”
“It can wait,” she said, holding up her hand.
“The hell it can,” Aurella said. “There are mindflayer tadpoles in our heads. We need them taken care of!”
“And what is he supposed to do here?” Serilda asked, turning her head toward her twin. “Slice us open in the middle of a goblin hoard?”
She turned back to Halsin who was stroking his chin. “It’s spreading then,” he said. “You all suffer from the very blight I came here to investigate. I thought all the afflicted worked together. Clearly, I was wrong.” He paused, his gaze bouncing to each of them before settling back on Serilda. “No visible signs of ceremorphosis. Just like the others. The good news is you still have time.” His eyes turned downcast. “The bad news: I don’t know how much.”
Aurella let out an irritated sigh, drawing an apologetic look from Halsin. Serilda ignored her.
“I will do my best to help you,” he promised, “but, as you said, I’m unable to slice you open in the middle of a goblin hoard.” He smiled as he spoke, but it quickly fell. “There’s work to do--blood to spill. I cannot allow these butchers to threaten my grove. The natural order must be protected.”
Each word spoken seemed to add another inch to his height. Gone was the man who laughed about strangers saving a possibly wild bear; this was a leader of druids, the Master of the Emerald Grove. Serilda could do little but stare, a bit in awe of the authority he demanded just in the shift of voice.
“What can we do?” Serilda asked without a second thought.
“More running around putting ourselves in danger for others, right?” Aurella muttered.
“We came here to kill the gobbos anyway,” Wyll remarked. “It’s good to be the hero every now and then, Aurella.”
Aurella and Serilda rolled their eyes, though for entirely different reasons. Serilda gave Halsin a nod to continue.
“Rare is the beast that survives decapitation,” he replied, his more jovial side returning. “These parasites are nothing without their command. We must eliminate their leaders, and nature will cure itself.”
