Chapter Text
In the harrowing tenday since her abduction aboard an illithid vessel, the musician Aria Evenstar discovered herself in the company of the most unexpected allies. Amidst this eclectic group she shared glasses of wine with Shadowheart, a Sharran of mysterious origin, and swapped tales of heroism with Karlach, a battle-hardened soldier from Zariel's forces. However, lingering in the shadows of her consciousness was a persistent suspicion that Astarion, the enigmatic pale elf with whom she'd exchanged playful quips, might indeed be a vampire.
Initially, the notion hadn’t crossed her mind; how could a creature of the night thrive in the light of day? Yet, his sharp fangs, piercing red eyes, and the unmistakable bite mark etched like a sinister brand upon his neck left no room for doubt. Drawing upon her bardic knowledge, Aria deduced that Astarion must, in some form, be a hybrid of the vampiric ilk. When she broached the topic of his origins, he evasively claimed to be a magistrate from Baldur's Gate. However, as the nights passed she observed his clandestine departures from camp, and when the unlikely band stumbled upon a blood-drained boar the next dawn, Astarion's disquiet was palpable when pressed for an explanation.
“I-it’s been drained of blood with wounds in its neck. It’s been killed by a vampire. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to worry you. They're ferocious creatures,” he admitted.
There it was - the truth revealed: a vampire. He confirmed it with his own words.
“But don't worry. I'll keep watch tonight. We won't have to worry about nocturnal visitors,” Astarion vowed.
Aria found his notion somewhat amusing; after all, few would be foolish enough to venture near a vampire's domain at night. Even still, she couldn't shake her interest regarding why he hadn't already preyed upon any of them, or why he was so fervently concealing his true nature. As she pondered their situation, surrounded by strangers in the wilderness, united by the shared plight of being infected with illithid tadpoles, she realized the necessity of relying on each other for survival. Ultimately, Aria concluded that it mattered little what he was. As long as he could be relied upon to control his cravings and tidy up after himself, it was, she reasoned, not her concern.
Ironically, her assumption was crushed that very night when an alluring fragrance suddenly overwhelmed her senses and snapped her out of her elven trance. Looming over her prone form was Astarion, his fangs bared in a chilling display of vampiric power.
Realizing he was caught Astarion panicked and immediately recoiled. “…Shit.”
In an instant Aria was on her feet, calculating if blasting him with a fire bolt would rouse the others and buy her enough time to brandish her weapon.
“No no - it's not what it looks like, I swear!” he said, quickly trying to diffuse the situation. “I wasn't going to hurt you! I just needed - well, blood.”
Astarion's ruby eyes locked onto her sapphire gaze, and appeared to glow in the firelight as he struggled to maintain composure over his sanguine hunger.
Aria remained tense as she took in the sight of his malnourished state. “How long since you killed someone? Days? Hours?” she asked, incredulous at how long he must have been starving.
He shifted his weight, seemingly taken aback by her pointed question. “I've never killed anyone! Well, not for food. I feed on animals; boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get. But it's not enough, not if I have to fight. I feel so weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please,” he pleaded with the utmost sincerity.
A strange sensation rippled through the pair as the tadpoles in their minds urged to connect. Secrets Astarion longed to keep private offered to reveal themselves, but Aria ignored the foreign sensation, instead choosing to rely on her natural intuition. She hadn’t known Astarion long, but could infer that there was enough truth in what he spoke. She allowed herself to relax some and sighed, “Why didn't you tell me?”
Astarion gently scoffed. “At best, I was sure you'd say no. More likely, you'd ram a stake through my ribs. No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me,” he reassured.
Aria observed the remarkable display of restraint and inner turmoil that consumed Astarion as he battled against his primal urge to feed. His struggle, though admirable, left her wary. The moment he attempted to sink his fangs into her flesh while she slept shattered any semblance of trust she might have had. Yet, amidst the chaos of betrayal she clung to a sliver of hope in his unwavering desire to survive. Drawing upon her earlier resolve, she recognized the urgent necessity of joining forces to combat the sinister grip of those vile brain worms. Conceding she met his gaze. “I do. I believe you.”
“Thank you.” Seizing a potential opportunity Astarion continued, “Do you think you could trust me… just a little further? I only need a taste, I swear.”
Astarion's cunning was undeniable; the way he presented his request echoed the practiced charm of seasoned beggars in the shadowy alleys of Baldur’s Gate. While yielding to his demands would be reckless, Aria couldn't overlook the strategic advantage of having him as a powerful ally. If dancing on the precipice of his desires was the cost of maintaining his loyalty, she was willing to play the perilous game. A calculated risk; an enchanting performance to enrapture him and ensure he never turned against her. “Fine. But not a drop more than you need.”
Astarion seemed surprised. “Really? I - of course. Not one drop more. Let's make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”
Aria settled back onto her bedroll, sweeping her long auburn hair back and laying herself before him, prepared for his impending embrace.
Without a moment's hesitation, Astarion's fangs plunged deep into her ivory neck. The shock of icy, searing pain momentarily stunned her, but as it dissolved into a dull, pulsating ache, she sucked in a sharp breath, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She could endure this. Yielding to the vampire's whims, Aria leaned into him, granting him access to her lifeblood. A guttural moan reverberated from deep within Astarion's chest, sending shivers across her skin as he savored the taste of her essence. In a swift, primal motion, his hand seized the nape of her neck, drawing her closer with a force that elicited a soft gasp from her lips. He was relentless, insatiable. Instinctively, Aria attempted to cling to him for support, but with her strength waning, she could only grasp at the arm anchoring him to the ground.
The symphony of her blood being sucked and drained filled her mind, pulling her into a disorienting dance between consciousness and oblivion. A serene numbness washed over her, and she began losing herself within the depths of him. A sudden chill crept over her, piercing through the tranquility and jolting her back to the present moment. “Stop! It's too much,” she cried out.
“Ah! Of course.” Astarion regained his composure and released his hold on her as he gracefully rose to his feet. “I was just swept up in the moment,” he mused, slurping remnants of her blood that lingered at the corner of his mouth. “But it worked. I feel good. Strong. Happy!”
Drawing upon her final reserves of energy Aria stood, refusing to reveal any hint of vulnerability to him. “I’m looking forward to seeing you fight,” she replied with a steely resolve. Show me the worth of my lifeblood, she silently demanded.
Astarion’s customary confidence had returned in full force. “Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing. Now, if you'll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.”
With a theatrical flourish, he bestowed a small bow before departing. Drained beyond measure, Aria collapsed onto her bedroll, yearning for the solace of sleep.
The unexpected sound of Astarion's voice drew her attention back to him. “This is a gift, you know. I won't forget it,” he declared earnestly, his words lingering in the air.
She watched him as he vanished into the forest; a formidable figure brimming with strength and determination, destined for the hunt.