These Sanguine Desires
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.