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„In our world there is but one simple rule. Everything has a price, and every price must be paid.“ A dark figure, hidden under a hooded cloak, spoke with a raspy voice. A silvery gleam catched Astarion's eyes, he belatedly noticed the dagger in the person's hands. They swirled it effortlessly between their fingers. Taking a weary step back and raising his hands defensively, Astarion inquired:
„And how shall I pay this price?“, a strained smile showed a hint of sharp fangs.
A shift in the cloak‘s hood indicated that the figure tilted their head while voicing:
„With your blood,“ they lunged at Astarion, swiping the dagger at his chest. Lightning fast he dodged the attack.
„Oh, Darling. You chose the wrong person. You see, I don't have any blood of my own.“ A winning smile took over his face, hiding the fangs away.
„Maybe I can pay ~some way else?“ He hoped, nothing showed on his face, as a shudder ran down Astarion's back, appalled by his own suggestion.
The person underneath the cloak stopped in their tracks, probably thinking the offer through.
“I guess I could consider your debt paid with that,” they spoke slowly, still considering. Astarion could hear them quietly humming to themselves, afraid of what might come of it.
“You have a pretty face after all. Would be a shame to destroy it.” The way they said it, a deep drawl, made Astarion's skin crawl. But there was no backing out now, was there?
Unless… an idea hastily formed in his head. If he played his cards right he might yet turn his fate back around. Maybe he wouldn't have to pay with his body.
Even as relief crashed through him, his body was rigid from being on edge in anticipation of what might happen if he failed. Because if he did, he could very well still have to go through with this.
Once he had his new plan sorted out or at least an outline of what he might actually do, his initial disgust and nervousness faded to a background noise. Years of practice really paid off, even if these experiences weren't of his own accords.
A swing in his step Astarion crossed the small distance between them, muscles going soft so as to not let the still hooded person know ahead of time what he had planned for them.
While he couldn't see their face, Astarion was certain their eyes were on the sensual movement of his hips.
In order to keep their attention exactly where he wanted it he continued moving them in a way he knew from experience was enticing to most: a soft sway from side to side.
With a little sleight of hand Astarion pulled one of his daggers from its sheath hidden in his sleeve. Swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat he lifted his arms, resting them around their neck, dagger in hand.
He pulled their hood back, light brown hair spilled out and slightly tan skin with a surprisingly handsome, androgynous face. But that colour would soon fade, if Astarion got his way.
He leaned in as if to kiss them, but in the last second moved to the side, his lips close to their ear.
“I think you misunderstood, darling. I meant I could pay with your blood.” A surprised sound made its way past their lips.
“Wha-” their words ended in a gargled sound as the dagger slit cleanly through their throat, not allowing them to finish the question.
Satisfied Astarion watched as the blood oozed out of the cut. Life slowly fading out of the person's eyes. He liked it when his plans worked out.
Especially when it meant, he didn't have to sell his own body.