Relief, Part Two
The vampire brain rot continues. A/starion once again finds himself needing T/av's assistance when he comes down with a nasty cold...
Tav had given up all hope of a productive evening.
She had withdrawn to her tent for the night, intending to work on some potions with the latest batch of herbs she had gathered. It was a task she always found calming; sitting with fragrant herbs spread before her, a book on herbalism and potion-making in her lap, enjoying the soft glow of her lantern and the background noise of the camp settling for the night.
And then Astarion had joined her. Astarion and his absolutely miserable cold.
It had been obvious from that morning that the vampire was sick. Paler even than usual, he kept his distance from the rest of the group, but not far away enough to hide that ticklish cough, those damp sniffles, those frequent shivers. During a fight the day before he had been knocked into a river, and with camp hours away, had spent most of the day trekking about in cold, wet clothes. Now he was suffering the consequences. Only Tav knew the true extent of those consequences, though…
Since their time in the Underdark, Tav had become intimately aware of a peculiar feature of the vampire’s anatomy. Certain reflexes had been dulled by his undead condition, and sneezing was one of those reflexes. Things still bothered his nose, certainly. The constant haze of spores in the Underdark, the scent of garlic, dust, and now a cold in the head. But it was rare for that irritation to bring on a sneeze; at least, not without great effort. Since helping him get relief from the spores, and accidentally revealing her own peculiar interest, Tav had more than once found herself offering to help a desperately itchy Astarion sneeze, providing great satisfaction to them both.
It was that satisfaction Astarion had come seeking tonight, Tav was sure of it. But gods forbid the stubborn vampire actually ask for help. Instead, he lounged beside her, watching her work, the very picture of misery. A blanket draped around his shoulders seemed to be doing little to ease his chills, and his lips were chapped from breathing through his mouth. And his poor nose… It twitched and wrinkled near constantly, and had turned pink from being constantly dabbed at with a handkerchief. He sniffed almost constantly, and when he spoke his voice was heavy with congestion. And, every now and then, his eyes would close, his lips would part, he would tilt his head back, chest expanding with a great, expectant breath, and… Nothing.
It was all Tav could do to keep from squirming.
“Perhaps you ought to take a nap,” she suggested, after a bout of hitching turned into a yawn instead. “You might feel better after you get some sleep.”
“I can’t sleep like this,” Astarion grumbled, rubbing his nose through the handkerchief. “Couldn’t sleep all last night, from the moment I felt it setting in. Every time I started nodding off, I… I’d start to…”
Tav swallowed dryly, watching the display. She was almost sure Astarion was doing it on purpose. He lowered the handkerchief, giving her an uninhibited view of his flaring nostrils, and wrinkled his nose, trying to bring on that desperately needed sneeze. One great hitching breath… Two… And…
“Gods damn it all! Why does this have to be so miserable?”
He blew his nose angrily, and Tav flinched at the sound.
“Don’t blow so hard! If you think you’re miserable now, just wait til you give yourself a sinus infection.”
“Easy for you to say. Ugh, I hate this! My head feels so full it could burst, and my nose is a perfect nightmare!”
For you, perhaps, Tav mused, watching him rub angrily at said nightmare. Sighing, she set down her book at last, and patted her lap.
“This is going to drive us both mad at this rate. Here. Lie down, and let me help.”
Astarion gave her a look of gratitude from over the top of his handkerchief, and did as he was told, laying down with his head in her lap. Trying to keep her mind on the problem at hand, Tav ran a gentle finger down the length of his nose, feeling it twitch irritably. Astarion sniffled and let out a gasp of irritation, and tried to bring his handkerchief to his nose. Tav pushed his hand back down, giving him a reassuring smile as she pulled a clean handkerchief from her sleeve. She dabbed gently at his nostrils, which had begun to look rather damp.
“Easy. Just try to relax, and let me take care of you.”
“I'll relax when I'm free of this damned itch,” Astarion groaned, and let out a few ticklish coughs. “Do hurry up and bring out that feather of yours!”
Tav shook her head, turning her attention to the herbs she’d been working with.
“You’re a bit too… damp, for a feather, I think. Let me find something a bit sturdier.”
Keeping the handkerchief pressed to his nose with one hand, feeling his nostrils twitching restlessly, Tav selected a frond of dried grass. Delicate enough not to hurt, but sturdy enough to get the job done. Astarion snuffled desperately as she lowered the handkerchief and set to work. Starting slowly, she twirled the grass across his nostrils, and was immediately rewarded with an eager hitch.
“Hhh! Hhh-Hh! Hhhnn…”
It was never that easy. Astarion’s nose was as stubborn as the rest of him. Not wanting to tease him when he already felt so wretched, Tav gently poked the grass further into one aggravated nostril. Astarion gave a flustered snuffle, and raised his handkerchief as his nose began to run. Tav beat him to it, pressing her own handkerchief lightly against his nose, rubbing gently, still twirling the stalk of grass all the while.
“Easy… Let me take care of you…”
Astarion couldn’t answer, his breath snagging on a useless round of hitches. A tear leaked from his eye, and Tav dabbed it gently away.
“HHnn… Hhm… Hhh! I… I think… it’s…”
Tav pressed the grass deeper, seeking out the point that would release all that irritation, and found it. As Astarion drew in one last desperate breath, she covered his nose and mouth with the handkerchief, just in time.
“HHhh… Hh’tshhoo!”
Astarion sniffled damply in the aftermath, nose nuzzling into the handkerchief, and blinked up at Tav, dazed. The sneeze had been a rather weak one, and didn’t seem to have scratched the itch.
“I… I think I need more, darling…”
“Of course. Let’s try again.”
Tav set to work again, trying to find a more sensitive spot. With Astarion weakened by his cold, she was evidently going to have to work harder to bring on the kind of relief he needed. Guided by her skilled fingers, the blade of grass twitched and twirled, and Astarion hitched and sniffled and gasped, but seemed unable to bring on another sneeze. Tav withdrew the grass, bringing on a flustered snuffle and a few coughs, and set about teasing the other nostril.
“Stubborn thing…”
She tickled and twitched and twirled away with the grass, dabbing occasionally with the handkerchief, and Astarion squirmed in her lap, chest rising and falling with hitching breaths, sniffling and gasping, eyes growing decidedly teary as the irritation grew. Tav began to worry she might only be able to bring on that one weak, unsatisfying sneeze. And then, finally, the grass tickled just deep enough.
“Da-ahh-rling, I… think… I… IhhhHHSHOO!”
Again Tav pressed the handkerchief over his nose just in time. As she began to lower it, Astarion took hold of her wrist, keeping it there.
“No… I… Ahhh… Hhh… HHRASSHOO!”
A shiver ran through him after that one. A shiver ran through Tav too, for rather different reasons.
“Need me to keep going?”
“No, I think… Think there’s more… Hh! Hhh-hh-hHHSHOO!”
Tav withdrew the grass and used her now free hand to wipe away irritated tears, then gently ran her fingers through white curls.
“That’s it, you’re doing well. More?”
“HhhHHSHOO!” Astarion sneezed in agreement, and gave a series of damp sniffles. Tav pressed the handkerchief more firmly against his nose, feeling it twitch and wriggle, bringing on the next desperate “HHRRASHOO!”
Sneeze after sneeze burst out. Slower than the allergic fits brought on by dust or garlic, and judging by the way Astarion was beginning to breath more heavily, rather more exhausting. At last, with a final, exhausted “Hhishhoo!”, Astarion opened his eyes, and, taking the handkerchief from Tav, wearily sat up and blew his nose.
“Thank you, darling. I feel… Well, I still feel wretched, but that’s one misery resolved. You… enjoyed that, I take it?”
Weary from his cold, his smile as he took in Tav’s flushed cheeks was more fond than seductive. In answer, Tav leaned in and pressed a gentle, featherlight kiss to his long-suffering nose, letting out a surprised giggle as doing so prompted a ticklish “Htshhoo!”.
Astarion raised the handkerchief too late, and if there had been enough blood in him, Tav suspected he might have blushed.
“Ah! Sorry about that, darling! Although, given your… peculiarities, perhaps I ought to say ‘you’re welcome’?”
Tav let out a snort of laughter, and leaned in to kiss him properly this time… Only to pull back in alarm as Gale’s voice sounded outside the tent.
“Astarion! Might I suggest you take something for that cold, rather than keep the whole camp awake?”
Tav let out an embarrassed giggle, and called back before Astarion could snap something rude in reply.
“Don’t worry, I’ll see he’s well taken care of!”
As the wizard’s footsteps retreated, Astarion gave her a rather more flirtatious smile.
“You will, will you?”
Tav leaned in closer, but instead of kissing him this time, picked up the fallen blanket and pulled it around his shoulders once more. His seductive act dropped, and he gave an embarrassed cough that brought on several more.
“I will. But not like that. You need to sleep this cold off. Let me get back to my herbs, and I can make you something to help. And if you’re feeling better tomorrow… Well, then. Let’s see what morning brings.”