Chapter Text
You suddenly appeared back in Astarion’s study room. He was still holding you tightly by the wrist, his other hand covering your mouth.
You struggled and tried to push away, but it was to no avail. His grip on your wrist tightened, and his hand on your mouth pulled your head closer to him, making it difficult to move.
He leaned close to your ear, his voice was low and dangerous. "Easy, pet. You wouldn’t want to have your hand broken.” He applied pressure to your wrist painfully, and you muffled a scream and squirmed. “No, you don’t want that, do you?" Your eyes widened. "Nod if you're going keep those lovely lips of yours tight shut, and won’t do anything stupid."
You nodded.
"That’s a good girl."
He gently pressed his lips to your cheek and neck, playfully nipping at your skin, causing you to shudder with pleasure. You couldn't contain the soft moan that escaped your lips.
His other hand, still gripping your wrist, forced your arm upward, raising both of your arms above your head. The strength of his pull lifted you onto your tiptoes, leaving you dangling in a precarious position. Your body tensed, your heart raced and fear pulsed through your veins as you struggled to keep your balance, feeling completely at the mercy of his hold.
His fingers traced a deliberate path over your bare skin, starting at the exposed curve of your collarbone and slowly descending down your side, barely grazing the side of your breast. You couldn't help but shiver at his touch, a sensation both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. As his hand dipped lower, tracing the curve of your waist and hips, you could feel your heart racing in anticipation. His fingertips danced along the hem of your dress, tugging it upwards with a firm grip that sent electric shocks through your body. His fingertips glided up ever so softly, tracing a path along your thigh that made you tremble. A choked moan escaped your lips as he smirked .
His hand found one of the daggers you had tied to your thigh. He deftly removed it, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud. His fingers then danced lightly across your skin, moving up your thigh and grazing the sensitive skin there. He slid his hand up to your waist, his fingers pressing firmly into your flesh. His hand then moved higher, tracing the line of your ribcage before returning to your waist. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck as his hands continued their exploration. Your holding any sounds his touch is doing to you. He ran his fingers along the curve of your hip, he pulled you even closer, his hands gripping your hips tightly, making you increasingly uncomfortable.
After ensuring you had nothing else concealed, he paused, staring down at you. He savored the sight before him, his eyes moving slowly, drinking in every detail. He started with your wide, fearful eyes, which glistened with a mix of defiance and dread. His gaze then traveled down to your trembling form, noting the way your body quivered under his touch. Your chest heaved with each labored and staggered breath. Your arms were still held aloft, causing your body to hang helplessly from his grip, every muscle strained and taut. His eyes roamed further, taking in the way your dress now clung to your form, the fabric stretched and disheveled from his invasive search. He noticed the rapid pulse at the base of your neck. Your legs, slightly parted from his previous actions. He could feel the tension in your muscles, the barely contained urge to fight or flee, and it only fueled his satisfaction. With a smug expression on his face, he watched you tremble in anticipation of what he might do next, the tension in the room palpable. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, savoring the control he held over you.
Without warning, he released his grip on your wrist, causing you to stumble and lose your balance. Your body reacted instinctively, trying to put some distance. Turning to face him, every muscle in your body tensed and coiled, ready for whatever was coming next. Your senses were heightened, prepared for either a fight or flight response.
Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you watched him warily. His predatory gaze followed your every movement, a smirk still playing on his lips. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as the tension between you thickened. Your breaths came in quick, shallow gasps.
He strolled casually, taking in the state of the room and your chaotic mess.
He looked around the room, taking in the cluttered mess of papers and letters scattered everywhere. He paused to observe the old portrait painting of you on the activated wall. His eyes roamed, noticing every detail of your presence in the room.
"I'm not mad, dear. I'm well aware of your nature. Curious, relentless, unstoppable, stubborn..." His voice was smooth, almost casual, as he continued, "I’m not surprised you’d go to all these lengths. Let's say I'm not disappointed."
You looked at him, puzzled and wary. What is he planning? You had expected him to lash out, punish you, violate you, or something of the sort. But he looked too collected, too calm. This unexpected composure made you even more nervous. Your body remained tense, every muscle coiled in anticipation of his next move.
"Well, what should we do, dear?" he asked, his tone almost playful.
You stayed silent, unsure if he expected you to say something. You were afraid that anything you said might provoke him. Your mind raced, weighing the consequences of each potential response. His eyes bore into yours, waiting, watching. The room felt oppressively quiet, the tension almost suffocating. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat a loud reminder of your precarious situation. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, your gaze never leaving his as you braced yourself for whatever was to come next.
"What should I do with you?" he mused, his head tilting in a mocking, contemplative manner. "I have provided you with luxury, protection, and pleasure. Saved your life. And yet you went to great lengths to escape the protection, the home, I have given you. All the while I was away, killing those Bhaalists to keep you safe, my dear. Killing for you... You know, given the circ*mstances, you’re so lucky I am benevolent and so, so good to you. You haven’t experienced even an inch of what I went through, love, not even a second of it. And yet here you are, eager to leave. Such an ingrate little pet aren’t you?"
His tone was dangerously calm, each word dripping with a mix of frustration and twisted affection. He took a step toward you, his expression unamused. Instinctively, you stepped back. He smirked, taking another step forward as you continued to retreat.
Your legs hit the edge of the desk, stopping your backward movement abruptly. Astarion loomed over you. He placed his hands on either side of you, caging you in as you leaned back, trying to create some distance.
Slowly, he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. The room seemed to shrink around you, the tension thickening the air. His proximity was overwhelming, the scent of him mingling with the lingering fear in the room.
Your hands tremble as you try to steady yourself. You can't read his expression, his eyes a mixture of amusem*nt and something darker.
"You have some explaining to do, my love," he said, his voice dangerously smooth.
Words caught in your throat. You hated to admit how intimidating and intoxicating he looked right now, his presence overwhelming and commanding.
"Well? Let’s start with why you left the room and came here," he continued, suddenly grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. "When I clearly told you not to come to this floor."
You looked at him, your eyes then wandering around the room—the sending stone, letters strewn across the desk and floor, the portrait hanging on the wall, the flowers... A surge of anger welled up inside you. How dare he invade your life like this? You should be mad at him.
Gathering your courage, you suddenly pushed his hands away from you. "I should be asking you!" you retorted sternly, your anger taking over any rationality. The fury in your voice was unmistakable, your eyes blazing with indignation.
Astarion's eyes narrowed slightly, his smirk fading as he took in your defiance. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated.
"Why are my letters here?" you demanded, stepping forward toward him, your hands clenched into fists.
"Why is my staff here? Why do you have notes, detailed notes, of every single place I've been these past ten years?" Your voice was sharp and accusatory, each word dripping with betrayal and hurt. Tears filled your eyes as you glared at him angrily "Why did you make me drink that sussur potion? Why did you have so many people in that dungeon, hurt and abused,"—your voice trembled with a mix of rage and disbelief—"people that looked like me? Why did you kill that girl, Fable…?"
Tears streamed down your face, your eyes blazing with fury. You tried to shove him, pushing him with all your might. He stand unmoved. "Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?" your voice cracking but still strong, laden with the weight of your anguish and confusion.
He didn’t say anything. He stayed silent, his eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable.
You looked at him, waiting for any reaction, any words, anything. But he remained stoic, his face a mask of calm indifference.
"Say something," you demanded, your voice strained with desperation. You searched his face for any sign of emotion, any hint of what he was thinking.
"Astarion, say something!" you yelled, your voice echoing through the room.
But his eyes remained inscrutable, a dark abyss you couldn't decipher. He stood there, silent and unyielding, his gaze fixed on you.
"Goddammit, Astarion, what is wrong with you?" you said, your voice breaking as you felt a sense of defeat wash over you.
"I have only cared for you. Tended to you. Pleasured you. Saved you. And yet here you are, questioning me, doubting me," he finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. As he continued, his eyes darkened, a sinister edge creeping into his tone.
You tried to maintain your posture and stand your ground, your body trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "You didn’t answer me," you said, your voice angry but trembling. Your frown deepened, your eyes burning with intense anger and hurt.
He looks down at you smirking. "You look adorable dear," he said in a sweet, condescending way, as you glared back at him, seething with rage. "Well, it's not worth hiding it anymore I suppose. Why, you ask. Why would I go to all lengths to keep you safe, to keep you from harm, and bring you back here with me? Why would I care for the one who turned her back on me and left me?" He stepped closer, his presence looming. "Isn’t the answer simple, my dear?"
You looked at him, your expression a mix of fear and confusion. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the uncertainty that gripped you.
He smirked, "You belong to me, love."
"So you stalked me," you said, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief.
"I have been taking care of you," he replied smoothly. "While you slept blissfully under the starry sky, I was taking care of assassins and thieves trying to assault you. I kept tabs on you to ensure you lived and returned to Baldur’s Gate safe and untouched. I knew long before that Bhaal's assassins were onto you. I made sure you didn’t have to deal with most of them."
His words sent a chill down your spine. The revelation that he had been watching you, protecting you from the shadows, filled you with a mixture of revulsion and twisted gratitude. The anger and betrayal you felt were palpable, but there was also an unsettling sense of dependence on the protection he claimed to have provided. Your mind raced, struggling to reconcile his words with the reality you had experienced.
“The letters?” you asked, your voice tinged with defiance.
He laughed, a sound both mocking and bitter. "Ah yes, those fun letters to the cleric and that wizard. You know, it amused me how you could dedicate time to write to each of them all those years, but you never spared a thought for me. You would go into great detail for the wizard, and you’d travel to great lengths to find a special flower for the cleric. You must have a great deal of care for her..."
His tone was laced with something dark, making you feel uneasy. The way he spoke, sent a chill down your spine.
“They are my friends—the few I have. You have no right to intervene, to take my letters. To take me away from them, it’s not fair. You’re—”
"Fair?” he interrupted harshly, grabbing your neck and cutting you off. “You think it was fair when you left me without a single word? Fair that after everything, promising me you’d be with me no matter what, promising you would stay by my side, you just leave?"
He tightened his hold on your neck, lifting you up to his eye level. Your hands instinctively went to his, trying to pry his fingers off, but his grip was unyielding.
"You think it was fair how you stopped seeing me? I noticed. You no longer saw me; all you saw was a monster you helped create. And you didn’t want to deal with it. You didn't want to see me anymore. You thought the farther you went from Baldur’s Gate, the easier it would be to forget all your sins, my love? You think leaving will absolve you of all the blood on your hands? That it will somehow hide all you have done? Ignoring it will make you feel better, make it feel like it never happened, like I never existed in your life?”
His words were like daggers, each one piercing deeper than the last. Your eyes were wide, filled with a mix of fear, anger, and sorrow as you looked at him, trying to find a trace of the man you once loved beneath the rage and bitterness.
He loosened his grip on your neck, his eyes and voice softening. "Did it mean nothing to you? …After everything we went through together, you just left without a second thought. And here I am, left with all these feelings while you were miles away.”
You gaze at him, a whirlwind of emotions raging within your mind and heart. The way he looks at you, with such sincerity, vulnerability, and raw emotions, is something you haven't seen in a long time. A dormant longing stirs inside you as your heart flutters in response. “We have helped everyone to be free, the tieflings, the shadowlands, Shadowheart, Gale, Laezel, and even you. I helped get your revenge, get your freedom. And my own freedom costed my life. Only because i was still useful to the gods i came back. As a child of none. No longer a bhaalspwan. Free. And here you are wanting for me to renounce my freedom, my second chance of a life. That’s not fair.”
“Nothing is fair. Is all an exchange. You were brought back for a reason. That was the exchange my dear. They gave you life and you gave them victory. I’m offering you freedom from mortality, all the power, richness and pleasure in the world, I’m only asking you to be my consort. “
“You keep saying this to me... what do you expect to get from me? What will you gain as having me when you already have so many spawns, thralls and loyalist in your grasp? You have everything, you don’t need me.”
“They are not you. They aren’t like us. No one is like you...I’ll have you eternally at my side as i rule this city. I mean when i say i want you as my consort. I will protect you, give you my palace to be your home, you’ll be the vision, the epitome of grace, eternal beauty and power. With me you will never need anything else, you’ll be with me, together for eternity. ”
He softly touched your lips, his fingers brushing against them with a gentle yet possessive caress. “That’s why I gave you the choice to be willingly with me.”
“These choices of yours are all an illusion. Why even offer them?” you said, your voice wary of his words.
“I still wanted you to want me. To remember our love, to remember you wanted this too, to be mine forever. I want you to choose this.” he replied, his tone almost pleading beneath the surface.
“And yet you’re imposing it, willing to take from me my freedom, my choice,” you retorted, your eyes flashing with defiance.
“I’m taking what I deserve. What is rightfully mine,” he said, his voice hardening.
“My choice and my life are not for you to claim,” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear.
“You forfeited everything the moment you left. That very moment you stepped away from me, you lost any right. And the further you kept going, every step you took away from me, the more you were inviting me to take you, by any means necessary,” he declared, his eyes burning with a fierce possessiveness. His words cut deep, the intensity of his gaze leaving you breathless.
Your mind was racing, flashing back to all those people he had made to look like you. "So you will take me regardless of what I say or feel, and then what? What do you plan to do with me as your consort? Have me as you please and then toss me down in that dungeon, abandoned, starving, and bruised once you get bored of me?"
"Never. You weren’t meant to see that, and that won’t happen to you."
"Then explain to me why you have those people, looking like me, like that? What kind of sick game are you playing, Astarion?"
"They mean nothing. They are nothing. None of them make me feel anything. I felt nothing, NOTHING. And I tried, tried to move on. I indulged in every desire, every darkest thought and depravity, to erase you from my mind. To feel something. Anything similar to the warmth I felt for you. But nothing. It was empty. Then I decided to find someone like you. But each one of them wasn’t like you. They aren’t like you. They didn’t taste like you. They didn’t sound like you. They didn’t make me feel anything like you. I felt nothing. Nothing like before. What’s the point of a beating heart, of having the taste and feel of a living being, when I feel nothing? You left and took whatever remaining feeling I had left with you. But now you’re here... my heart beat with purpose. And my desire burns truly."
"This is a very f*cked-up confession of love," you retorted, your voice heavy with a mix of disbelief and anger.
“…I was going through changes, understanding my powers, re-learning who I am... I needed you." He pulled you toward him and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. "And you abandoned me." He stared at you angrily for a moment before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and exhaling slowly, as if trying to control his anger. "And yet, through all these years, I was hurting because of you. There wasn’t a day I didn’t yearn to see you, to hear you, to touch you, to taste you once again. I missed you terribly."
As he spoke, his voice became lower, more seductive, as he leaned closer. His hand softly touched your face, his fingers trailing down your cheek. "My desire for you was too much. I needed to calm it. And that was one way I did. Not my proudest moment, in all honesty. But that’s your fault for making me go to these lengths. If you had only stayed, it wouldn’t have needed to go that far. The farther you went, the more I desired you, the angrier I got for you daring to part away from me. But that doesn’t matter anymore, does it? You’re here. With me now. And tomorrow, you’ll be my consort, forever in eternity, in each other’s arms."
Your eyes widened in defiance. “I won’t be your consort, Astarion. Not after everything I saw today.” You suddenly pushed away from him, stepping back. “Not after seeing what you have done.” You were afraid, but your anger was stronger. “I would rather die right now than ever be your consort.”
Just as soon as the words left your lips, he suddenly pulled you by the wrist towards him, your back landing hard against his chest. He grabbed your hair harshly and yanked your head back painfully, while his other hand forcefully pushed your dress down, leaving your chest exposed and vulnerable. You instinctively placed your hands over your chest, but he shoved them away and wrapped his arm around you in a tight, constricting embrace, trapping your arms at your sides. His grip on your hair remained unrelenting, each tug sending jolts of pain through your scalp.
You whimpered at the pain and the sudden coldness you felt on your bare skin. He moved your head further to the side, to the point of agony, leaving your neck completely exposed. Fear settled in you as you realized what he was about to do. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, caressing it softly. He parted his lips, his fangs menacingly grazing your skin, poised to pierce through. He nibbled and sucked gently on your neck, kissing it softly as you tried to move, to push him away, but your efforts were in vain.
He suddenly tightened his hold on you, a silent command to stop fighting and stay still. He pulled your hair even further back, making you whimper in pain. His lips hovered close to your ear as he whispered menacingly, "I could sink my fangs into you and turn you if I wished to right now." He pressed his face into the nook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “I’m really trying to be patient with you, you know. But you keep testing my patience, and I’m so close to being done with it. I’ll take whatever I want, my love. And if it means to forcefully take you, I will... but you don’t want that, do you, pet?"
"No," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
"I thought so. There’s still one more day for you." He stared down at you for a moment, moving your hair tenderly away from your face. His fingers traced softly around the scales on your skin, feeling their texture. You trembled, your breathing staggered. He could feel, smell, and almost taste your fear and anguish. He smirked, satisfied with the effect he had on you.
"I don’t think it would matter though. One more day and we both know how it will end." He leaned closer, his lips brushing softly against your ear as he whispered in a low, deep voice, "I'll just end this silly game of waiting and make you my consort right now."
Your eyes widened in terror. "No, Astarion, please! You gave your word."
"I did, and yet you disobeyed me. You killed and burned my spawns, my healer, his labs, and caused chaos. Something must be done." He looked down at you, his gaze cold and unforgiving. "You need to remember your place here, my dear. And I’m all in the mood for it."
He tightened his grip on your hair, yanking your head to the side.
Panic surged through you.
He would sink his teeth into you.
He would turn you now.
Your mind raced with desperate thoughts, searching for a way to stop him.
You needed to say something.
Do something.
This couldn't be how it ended.
Just when you felt his breath tingling against your skin, his lips touching the nook of your neck where the faded marks of his fangs were, and almost felt his teeth and fangs so very close to your skin, you suddenly reacted.
"Wait!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, your voice echoing through the room.
A loud yell erupted from you, a sound so raw and primal you had never heard it from yourself before.
So loud and sudden, it made him stop.
His lips were parted, his fangs so close to piercing through you, but he halted. You felt his hesitation.
You needed to talk quickly.
"Astarion. I propose... a challenge." Your mouth was running faster than your mind, struggling to keep up. You weren't sure what you were doing, but the only thing you knew was that you had to delay that bite at all costs.
He raised his brow, looking a bit confused but intrigued. "What are you talking about?"
"A game. A hunt."
He stared down at you silently, his gaze intense. Your breathing was still hard and nervous. He suddenly spun you around to face him, his eyes locking onto yours, waiting to hear what you had to say. You continued, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush.
"You said you would hunt me if I left. Tomorrow. Give me the whole day to try to escape the palace. If I leave, you have to catch me before I reach the gates. If you can't, I get to leave for good. And you have to leave me in peace forever."
He laughed, a dark, amused sound, and looked at you in disbelief, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusem*nt and menace. "I’ll humor you, my sweet. And, hypothetically speaking, if you manage to leave the palace, what will happen if I catch you before you reach the gate?"
"I'm yours. Forever. Eternally your consort to do as you please."
"And if you never get out of the palace?"
"I will get out," you replied, your voice steady despite the fear coursing through you.
"Hahaha! it's so cute how sure of it you are," he said, his eyes turning darker. "But let's make it more fun. If by the last hour before midnight you still haven't left, I start looking for you. Hunt you wherever you are. It will make that final hour all the more intriguing... interesting."
Your eyes widened in worry. "Then, you can't use your powers."
"Why not?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Make it fair for me. You’re already oh so powerful."
He stared down at you, thinking for a moment. "Fine. But once outside or after midnight, everything goes, darling."
"Fine," you said, your voice firm.
He laughed, a dark, sinister sound. "Oh darling, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into," he said, his voice and eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous tone. He stepped forward, holding both your wrists and pulling you close to him. "I can’t wait."
He suddenly twirled you around as if in a dance and dipped you into a kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, your eyes widened and briefly turned red, mirroring the intense glow in his. His hand held your head firmly in place as you tried to push away, but his grip was unyielding. His gaze was penetrating, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light as he kissed you deeply.
You suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion, your eyes becoming hazy as your body started losing strength. Everything around you began to blur and fade, the room spinning into darkness. Your arms, which had been pushing against his chest, fell limply to your sides. Your knees buckled, and you in his arms, completely unconscious.
He held you close, his arms wrapped around your lifeless form, his eyes gleaming with dark delight. He gazed down at you, taking in the sight of your serene, unconscious face. Your lashes fluttered slightly against your pale cheeks, your lips slightly parted from the kiss. Your disheveled hair framed your face, and your night dress hung loosely. The faint rise and fall of your chest was the only indication of life, making you appear almost doll-like in his arms.
"Oh my sweet, this is going to be fun."
