🩸BloodNotes🎶: The First Drink
She should have pushed him away. She should have driven a stake through his heart. She should have kicked him out of the group. But, she didn’t. Instead, she offered her neck, kindly and freely, and told him to drink.
He’ll never forget the way her blood tasted as it flowed across his tongue. Sickly sweet and bright. Like a poison, it seeped into his veins, fueling him with strength he’d never known. As the velvety liquid flooded his senses, it pushed him closer and closer to feeling more alive than he’d felt in centuries. Rodents and Kobald be damned. Nothing could compare to her.
His mind had started to cloud, drunk on the taste of her. By the mouthful, he swallowed her ichor, losing a sense of self as he drank his fill. Thankfully, she remained more alert than he and pushed him off before he drank so much he’d regret it.
Licking his lips, Astarion stared at her neck, grinning to himself about the leniency he’d been given. She had every right to tell him no, but she hadn’t. She had every right to be angry, but the furrow in her brow displayed otherwise. She had every right to tell him to get lost, but she encouraged him to stay.
She was his first and she was divine, and Astarion found himself succumbing to the idea of her blood dancing across his lips for a second time. He could get addicted to the taste of her, fueling him with the feeling of life he’d long forgotten. Though, as much as he wanted to, he’d never ask for it.
”This is a gift, you know.” He decided on instead. “I’ll never forget it.”
He flexed his hands as he walked away, noting how they almost felt - warm? When was the last time he’d felt his own body produce heat? Was this the power of intelligent blood?
The blood - her blood - coursed through him unlike any other he had tasted before. It filled his body with vitality and breathed color back into his world. The sensation of life that overcame him felt unreal. And, before he even stepped foot out of camp, Astarion found himself craving more.
The following morning, Astarion’s head swam with the memories of the night before as Kyoran walked up to him.
He expected her to chastise him, tell him it was a “one-time thing,” and warn him to hide it and control his urges, but she didn’t. Instead, she stood soundly in front of him, the same as she always had, and asked him what they needed to do to keep him healthy and curb his hunger. Hells, she’d even defended him against the other party members when they swarmed his tent and warned him not to touch them. Not that he wanted to anyway.
A bit dumbfounded by the level-headed response, Astarion nearly stumbled on his words as he promised he wouldn’t drink the blood of any innocents. He’d only find his fill on creatures and criminals. So, when she offered her neck to him again, he couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity. He even promised to be careful and quiet in order not to disturb her rest when he did. And he certainly would if it meant he would get to taste time and time again.
She quickly nodded her approval before walking to Karlach’s tent. As he watched her go, Astarion couldn’t help the way his mouth watered at the promise of drinking from that lovely neck again. Kyoran enticed him and, for once, he didn’t care if it made him weak because it certainly made him happy.
