Chapter Text
SUMMARY : The Three Hag Sisters promise to help Astarion walk in the light if you two go steal back their prized pig from the town, but the towns people can’t catch you. Cuddling in a blackout tent discussing it with Astarion.
“So, let me make sure I’m clear on the deal,” Astarion pops a hip out as he addresses the creatures before the two of you. “If we bring you back your prized pig, you will give me what I need to walk in the sunlight?”
After months of searching, you had heard of these three sisters that could help you. Naturally, they turned out to be Hags and everyone you’d spoken to had completely failed to mention that. As unsavory as the Sisters M appeared to be, their awful cave exactly what you’d expect of a family Hag dwelling, they hadn’t been violent upon your arrival.
“Indeed!’
“Absolutely!”
“Of course!”
They had introduced themselves when you two had arrived but after moving about you couldn’t tell them apart from one another. You weren’t sure if it was family resemblance or if Hags just happened to be quite similar to one another. Their names Greasy Miriam, Dusty Mattie, and Stinking Melody didn’t help either since they all seemed equally greasy, dusty, and stinking.
You had heard about the Sister’s M during your travels to try to help Astarion walk in the sun again. Hilariously, you’d learned of them from someone you’d coerced Astarion into helping, and if it turned out a good deed had lead you to finding the people to find a way for him to walk in the sun again, you’d never let him live (or un-live as you’d joked) it down.
“How exactly,” Astarion tilted his head and you felt foolish as your stomach flipped with desire, “would you get a vampire spawn to walk in the sun?”
“There are a few ways.”
“A couple choices.”
“Options! Options! Options!”
“Gods, I’m fairly certain I’ll get a headache if I have to listen to these three any longer,” Astarion muttered softly enough that only you could hear. “Sounds too good to be true, especially since you can’t name how you’d do it.”
“Rings!”
“Or spells!’
“Or spelled rings!” One of the sister’s smacked the one who had said this.
“We cannot give you answers until you help us first.”
“We won’t be spillin’ more of our secrets!”
“Yes! We need to make sure you’re good for your side of the bargain, too!”
Astarion clapped his hands together and looked at you. “Alright then, sounds like a plan. Thank you…ladies. It has been wonderful getting to know you. If all goes well we’ll be back right quick with your, ah…pig.”
The sun is nearly up when you make it back to your camp. You have a little blackout tent and, in case of uniquely hazardous weather, a box that looks quite like a coffin for Astarion to hide in during the day. It all packs up rather wonderfully but it does make it so you can only continue your progress at night.
Astarion lays in his blackbox - he refuses to let you call it a coffin - while you set up the little camp. Since it is just the two of you, you are very careful to keep your food tied up in case of bears, lay out a ward, and set a few precautionary traps.
Once you’re both in the blackout tent, Astarion exits his blackbox and casts a non-daylight light thanks to a little enchanted jewelry. He stretches out on the bedroll and watches as you pull out a few preserved foods.
“I don’t trust them,” you say to him.
“You never trust anybody,” he fingers your bootlaces suggestively. “Except for me.”
“I’m a great judge of character.”
He scoffs.
Once you’re finished eating, you lay beside him and he rests his head on your extended arm. He closes his eyes and you trace your fingers over his face. His breathing slows and the muscles gently relax.
“It’s just a pig,” Astarion sighs.
You’re skeptical of the sister Hags but you don’t want to completely dash his hopes nor raise them. You run your fingers just barely into his hairline.
“You can feed if you’d like,” you say as you trace over his cheeks. He never requests it even though you are able to cure your dizziness the following day after he feeds.
“Thank you,” he replies softly.
With one arm, he pulls you closer by the waist. He dispels the light and the tent is nearly pitch black except for the smallest glow of sunlight at the overlapping tied entrance flap. As he moves so your bodies are pressed against each other, you adjust your hands from his face to the back of his head. Astarion’s lips are soft as he kisses your lips, your cheek and your jaw. Shifting, he moves atop you and kisses your ear before gently biting your earlobe. You are relaxed and wound up by the time that he bites your neck.
You let out a little moan and arch into him as your body responds. It is intimate and caring and ties your stomach in knots.
“Thank you,” he whispers again as he finishes. He runs his tongue along your neck, blindly checking for any stray blood.
Your hands are still wandering his body, asking and offering.
“Sorry, love,” he says, “I…not today.” You lift to kiss his cheek. He holds you close and sighs. “I wish I could be everything for you.”
“Astarion,” you give him a tight squeeze, “you’re enough. I promise, you are everything.” You hold each other as you drift off to sleep, tangled in your shared darkness.