Bitter honey & Sweet blood - PaleElfConnoisseur (ElvenTwinkWhisperer) (2024)

Chapter 1: Bitter honey and Sweet blood

Chapter Text

You watch the blood on your hands dissolve and dissipate in the water, like red wisps trailing from your skin into nothingness. It has been a strange day. As far as you can remember at least, your memory of the past remains vague and gives you little for comparison.

You cannot help but feel unsettled, not knowing anything about yourself besides your name and having these disturbing thoughts and Urges coming from your tadpole. But even without anything concrete to compare, you are certain that today has been anything but ordinary.

‘Mindflayers and tadpoles, flying through the Hells. Not exactly everyday occurrences.’ You think, sinking deeper into the water and rubbing away some of the more stubborn stains. Enjoying the coolness of the water on your skin, the way it soothes the strange tightness you have been feeling all day. Maybe dunking your head in the water a few times would also ease the headache you’ve been brewing.

‘Neither is finding a strangely philosophical Undead in a bandit den or teaming up with the stab happy Rogue that tricked you.’ Your thoughts wander to your newfound companions. You can already tell that they are going to be a handful, but you need friends if you want to get rid of this worm in your brain.

Especially since you seem to be affected differently than the others, the way it has erased your memory and seems to delight at each kill. Better to find a way to get rid of it before they find out.

‘I suppose a rogue being stab happy is to be expected. And Gale seems the studious poster child example of a Wizard, so not much to worry there. Lae’zel and Shadowheart though…’ You groan. You had found Lae’zel again right before dusk and making camp. Shadowheart had not been happy you agreed to team up again, but Lae’zel had proven her worth on the mindflayer ship and it would be foolish to turn her away simply because Shadowheart dislikes her.

‘Let’s hope they get through the night without one smothering the other and go from there. Maybe with some time I can figure out what their deal is.’ The snap of a twig behind you breaks you away from your thoughts. You try to turn quickly but the water around you makes your movements sluggish. Before you can see what made the noise you hear a familiar voice.

“Oh dear, I do apologise Amalthea. I did not mean to run into you like this, I was just having a look around the area.” You turn around fully to see Astarion standing near the edge of the water. He didn’t look sorry about this “accidental encounter” at all. Quite the opposite actually.

It’s a bold move, on the day you met no less. But you have to admit he is handsome enough to pull it off. The obvious ploy piques your curiosity, and it feels like a challenge. There is a tickle of excitement in your chest, you realise you like a challenge. You want to know what his plan is, and if you can beat him at his own game.

“That’s alright, no need to apologise. I did pick a spot quite close to the camp after all.” You move towards the edge of the water, not bothering to cover your naked body. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about, let him see you if he so wishes.

“That is a relief to hear. I did not want you to get the wrong impression of me. Especially not considering our rough start this morning.” The slightest hint of a smile tugs at his lips. He doesn’t turn around to look away, but his gaze doesn’t stray from your face either.

You slowly step out of the water and blindly pick up your clothes left at the water’s edge. Keeping your eyes locked with his, holding a silent dare to break eye contact. “Of course not. It wasn’t anything serious so I can hardly hold that against you. So, was there anything in particular you were keeping an eye out for while looking around the camp?”

“Oh no, nothing specific really. Just making sure there is nothing around the corner we need to worry about while sleeping.” He vaguely gestures towards the water behind you. “So imagine my surprise finding you here like this. I hope I did not ruin your moment alone, away from prying eyes.”

“It was just a quick bath to get rid of the grime, so I was pretty much done anyways. Bathing outdoors underneath the stars is quite a lovely experience though. So feel free to take a dip yourself. The water is quite nice and refreshing.” You now stand in front of him with your bundle of clothes pressed against your hip with one hand, and brushing stray strands of hair out of your face with the other.

Not once during your approach did Astarion’s eyes wander but standing closer you can see his eyes sparkle. You’re counting that as a draw. He gives you a perfect smile. “A lovely suggestion, I think spending the night sleeping outdoors is enough novelty for me today.”

You shrug and pull your tunic over your head. “Suit yourself. Not much else to do in this little corner though. So unless you have any ideas, I’m going back to camp. I don’t know what Gale is cooking but it smells great and I’m famished.”

“Ahh yes, a bite to eat does sound lovely. Unfortunately that will have to wait just a moment longer, I would like to continue to have a look around for now. I will join you and the others a little later.” You wiggle into your trousers unsure of what to say next; the conversation is slipping away, and you are no closer to figuring out what his motive was for coming here. Even worse, something in his tone of voice gives you the unsatisfying feeling he won this little exchange.

“Alright, don’t wait too long or it will go cold.” He gives a short nod in return. You reluctantly tear away your gaze when turning and walking off.

At the edge of the camp you realise. ‘He didn’t break eye contact once. That sneaky smooth talking rogue.’

~

You set aside your empty bowl feeling satisfied. The stew that Gale has made from the provisions and some spices warming you from the inside. You sigh happily, finally some peace and quiet after everything.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel had quickly gone to their tents after eating, Astarion had returned from his walk eventually but hadn’t joined around the campfire at all. So it was just you and Gale casually chatting away, or more specifically, you listened to Gale talking about the Weave and his research back home.

“Well since you did the cooking I’ll wash up the bowls.” You stand up and reach out to Gale so he can give you his bowl.

“Ah, before that I have something else for you. A final thank you for pulling me out of that portal.” He pulls out a chunk of honeycomb, after breaking it in half he offers you the bigger piece. “I found it earlier today. It isn’t much, definitely not enough to share with everyone, but since you’re the one who saved me from a truly unpleasant fate I thought you deserved a little something extra.”

You accept the offered piece, it’s sticky with honey and it already starts to ooze onto your fingers. You lick the honey that has dripped onto your thumb and sweetness fills your mouth.

Savouring the flavours you let out an appreciative hum, the way the thick sticky liquid clings to your skin and coats your tongue. It reminds you of the half congealed viscous blood that had covered your hands earlier today, how you wish you could taste that in this moment.

You stiffen, the sweet honey turning acrid in your mouth. Where in the hells did that comparison come from? You remember the metallic taste of thick blood on your tongue, the sensation feeling disturbingly familiar. And why do you feel pleasure scratch at the edges of your disgust? The reason, the memory, slips away from you.

Quickly you shove the feeling down to a dark corner of your mind, and force yourself to swallow and smile at Gale. “Thank you, it’s delicious.”

Shoving the whole piece of honeycomb into your mouth you grab Gale’s empty bowl from his hands. “Going to take care of these now. Have a good evening Gale.”

“Good night Amalthea!” Gale shouts after you when you rush away, back towards the river. The sickly sweet honey makes your stomach roll, finally past the tents you spit out the chunk of honeycomb and kick some sand over it to cover up. The lingering taste makes you want to gag, you kneel at the edge of the water, it takes a few rinses with water for it to leave your mouth.

You take a few slow breaths, willing away the remaining nausea. You just sit there staring at the water, just breathing for a moment. Until the last lingering effects of the half memory ebbs away.

Angrily you grab the dirty bowls that you dropped, dunking them into the water with a loud splash. Your good mood after your bath and dinner is long gone and the tension of a headache is returning. First thing tomorrow you’re going to the Grove, and you hope they know a way to get this psycho tadpole out of your head.

Chapter 2: Tangled traps

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“I cannot believe you agreed to take the Wyvern poison, just going along with what some random Druid tells you. I can assure you, I will not just off myself based on the judgement of some short stack stranger.” Astarion says while you walk back up the stairs towards the plaza. The druidic magic once again washes over you, making your skin prick.

“Complain all you like Astarion, but her advice was wise. If we don’t get rid of these tadpoles soon, and we inevitably start showing symptoms, the knife or poison are our only options.” Lae’zel replies coolly.

“Easy guys, nobody is turning into a Mindflayer any time soon, and if I did start to show symptoms and turn I doubt any of you would give me enough time to consider poisoning myself before you taking me out.” You throw the poison vial to Astarion, he catches it and gives you a puzzled look. “I didn’t see the harm in promising to her, those things considering. And it doesn’t hurt to have a bit of free extra poison with us.”

You look around, searching, and see a quiet spot to sit just outside of the plaza. “Let’s rest, we can recover a bit from that fight earlier and I need to think on what we do next.”

‘It doesn’t make sense.’ You wonder while kneading the back of your neck, that stubborn headache from yesterday just doesn’t let up and your skin feels too tight. Settling in against the wall you look over at the Grove, the Druids chanting, the statue pulses with energy.

You’re a Druid, surrounded by other Druids, you should feel in your element here. Comfortable and at home. And while the view triggers vague memories and familiarity, it leaves you unsettled. You feel like an intruder, almost guilty even, for being here. You quietly curse your memory loss, the tadpole has robbed you of any possibility of understanding where these feelings come from.

You pull out the book and letter Astarion had grabbed from a hidden chest. While part of the reason for your unease is hidden by the amnesia, you are sure the root of it is the current tension in the Grove and Kagha’s plans. It was the way she had spoken about her ritual, it felt off. Hence why you had told Astarion to have a look around, see if he could find anything, while you talked to the other Druids to distract them. A few minutes later, Astarion had reappeared and confirmed he found something with a subtle nod towards the exit.

Your eyes flit over the pages of the stolen book describing the ritual, confirming there was more to it than meets the eye. It triggers a faint memory of a warm voice. ‘People, animals, nature… They are one, they thrive with harmonious balance. We need to protect all that are part of that balance, do you understand Amalthea?’

You blink in surprise, a memory of your own? It surely felt different from what the tadpole has been worrying you with the last 2 days. It gives you a spark of hope, maybe if you follow up on this it will cause more memories to resurface. The others aren’t going to like this little side-quest though, but they’ll just have to put up with it. The Githyanki crèche isn’t going anywhere and you’ll just have to risk that nothing happens to Halsin in the meantime.

“I’ve decided, after we find that Tiefling you want to talk to Lae’zel, and check if there is anything else important here, we are going to the swamp.” You fold up the letter inside the book and put them into your pack.

‘We help those that are in need, whether they are big or small, and protect them from those who mean unjust harm.’ Another faint ripple of memory distracts you from your companions' replies. This must be what you are meant to do, to discover who you are.

~

You’re on your way home with a basket of berries when you hear a distressed mewl from the bushes. You gingerly step towards it, if it’s an injured animal maybe your mum could help. You push the branches aside and see a little fox cub looking up at you panting, all tangled up in snares that are cutting into its paws.

“Did you try and get yourself free, little one? Looks like you only made it worse.” You bend down and reach out a hand to try and pull it away from the bush. It whines and thrashes wildly when you touch his matted fur.

“Shhh, shhh… I’m trying to help you, so sit still.” You try to keep your voice calm and soothing, you don’t know how to speak to animals yet, so hopefully your tone carries across your intent.

Despite the cub’s resistance, you start to pick at the snares, shaking your head at the state of it. Stupid hunters, they don’t even know how to set up their traps right. Nothing wrong with hunting for food, but this kind of animal suffering is so unnecessary.

You manage to cut away the first main clusters of string, and you smile when the cub stops fighting your tentative work. It no longer tries to get away from your grip, and just looks at you with big vulnerable eyes, softly whining.

You contemplate what to do next for a moment. Branches are wrapped up in some of the snare wires, making the knots and tangles worse. With careful precision you snap them one by one, the click of breaking dry wood feels loud in your quiet surroundings.

Even though the cub is in pain you begin to enjoy the process of pulling apart the snares surrounding it, it’s like a little puzzle. The wires become looser after you remove the branches, sliding through your hands. They feel smooth as silk underneath your fingertips.

You hum softly while you continue to undo the knots, paying less attention to the whimpers of the animal. You’re almost done when it starts to thrash again, snapping his teeth at you.

“Hey! Stay still you stupid! I’m trying to help you here!.” You press it down onto the ground to keep it in place. It contorts its body trying to reach your hand with its needle sharp teeth. “I said, STAY STILL!”

You push harder, and feel something snap. The cub goes limp, and there is blood dripping past your fingertips where they’re digging into its fur.

You gasp. The forest shifts before your eyes, it’s dark and cool. The wetness that was on your fingers now reaches up to your elbows.

“Wait, what happened? Where-” Your eyes quickly adjusted to the night and you can clearly see the massacre before you.

It’s barely recognizable who or what this was. A ravaged body reduced to a pile of broken limbs, bloodied twisted features, and viscera. Except there was no mistaking that purple hair and long horns, the colour of her distinct outfit with the purple and blue triangles with bells still recognizable despite being soaked with blood.

“Alfira?” Your insides turn to ice when you reach out to touch her. This can’t be real, you were looking forward to her company. You were going to travel together. You talked before you went to rest.

Your hands tremble when you reach out to her, she’s still warm to the touch. You didn’t do this, you can’t have done this. This is the work of a monster, a completely deranged lunatic. But you did do this, the evidence of it is covering your arms and the taste lingers in your mouth.

Your stomach lurches, you jerk your hand away and scramble backwards. You need to get away, you can’t be here, the others can’t find you like this. Your legs are wobbly and you nearly slip in the muddy ground.

Water, get clean, you need to get to the river. Your head spins and your lungs burn, you’re not entirely sure how you managed to get to the river but you have never been so relieved to feel your knees hit the wet banks beside it. Violently you begin to scrub away at your arms, almost scratching away the stains on your skin.

Your vision becomes blurry and the dizziness becomes worse. It’s only when you let out a sob that you realise you’re crying and hyperventilating. You try to focus on your breathing but the panic's iron grip on your mind makes it impossible to calm down.

‘What did I do? What did I-? Why? Why… why!’

“Amalthea?” You hear a familiar smooth voice behind you.

Astarion.

The panicked spiral you were going down stutters to a halt and condenses to a numbing clarity. He can’t see you like this. He will tell the others, they will find out what you did, and kill you. As they should. Unless…

‘Kill him first. They can’t pin it on you without a witness. Kill him and let him take the fall.’ That dark corner of your mind offers.

‘No!’ What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t kill him, you won’t.

“Amalthea, what are you doing here this late? I smelled blood and - Good gods. What happened?!” You hear the confusion in his voice, with maybe a hint of worry. Most likely for his own wellbeing.

You stare numbly across the water, what is there left to say except the truth? There is no use hiding it, the evidence of what you’ve done still waiting for you at the camp. You briefly hesitate before speaking.

“I killed Alfira. I was dreaming, a memory maybe, and it startled me awake. She- I was standing over her body.” Your voice is hollow and flat.

“You what? You killed the bard, but why?” He sounds, to your surprise, not hostile but puzzled. Both the question and him giving you the opportunity to explain yourself leave a lump in your throat. Why indeed.

“I… I can’t remember. I don’t know why I did it. I did it during my trance, I think.” You turn around to look at him, he is standing a few steps away from you looking apprehensive as if re-evaluating his opinion of you, your voice starts to tremble. “I don’t remember anything really. Ever since I woke up on the nautiloid, the tadpole has been whispering things to me. I think, I think there’s something wrong with it.”

Astarion looks at you quizzically. “I, well… I have had unusual symptoms from my parasite. I suppose this could be a side effect of yours? I’m just not sure where this leaves us. What if we go to sleep tomorrow and it happens again?”

This is unexpected, you thought you would get a quick stab in the back, not this semi-sensible conversation. You take a shuddering breath, coaxing your brain out of this paralysis.

“I’m not sure, it’s not like I wanted to do this. I think I need help. Maybe… someone can keep watch at night?” Maybe there was a way to find a solution, make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.

Astarion grimaces at your suggestion. Considering your current slip up and him being an Elf, the lion’s share of these watches will most likely fall on him. “I suppose we should. We all have the same parasites, who knows if it will happen to one of the others. Together we can keep an eye on each other.”

You take another deep breath, this went better than expected. You can deal with this. “We can talk about it with the others tomorrow. Figure something out.”

Astarion hums in agreement. Both of you stay silent for a moment, unsure what else to say, until Astarion clears his throat. “We should probably head back to camp then. Before the others wake.”

Oh, right. You nod and get up. Quietly walking back to the camp. That dark pit in your stomach returns briefly, seeing Alfira’s body again and hearing Astarion make a surprised sound besides you. Hearing and seeing what you’ve done are two different things entirely.

“Well then. You go rest for a little longer, I will wake you when the sun starts to rise.” Astarion whispers. You look at your bedroll, right next to the body and the blood nearly touching the edge. You walk to the log instead, sitting down against it with your knees pulled up.

Not exactly comfortable but it will have to do. You don’t manage to return to your trance but instead absentmindedly stare at the ground before you, waiting for the others to wake up and discover what you’ve done.

Chapter 3: Shadows and secrets

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“Curse this damned little village. Not only was it crawling with Goblins but there was a spider den and necromancer lair too?” Wyll shakes his head, looking exhausted. “At least we properly dealt with most of the dangers here, now it is safer for the Tieflings to travel through later.”

He looks at Astarion, who ignores Wyll’s pointed look. He wasn’t happy when you agreed to let Astarion have the necromancer’s tome.

“Worry less about the Tieflings and more about yourself.” Lae’zel says, sounding as focused as usual. “Forget going to the swamp, we should find the Goblin camp and find that Druid you insist on consulting. Or better yet, go to my kin at the crèche. Getting rid of these parasites should be our priority, not playing hero and solving mysteries.”

“Nobody has forgotten the tadpoles Lae’zel, it’s on the to do list.” You try to calm her, some parts of your relationship still needs some work. She approved of your decisiveness and resolve during fights, usually on the front lines with her while in wildshape. But your unwillingness to rush to the crèche was less appreciated.

“We’ll go get there when we can. First things first, let’s try and get to the swamp before the end of the day. The sooner we get there the sooner we can move on to other things.” Lae’zel just clicks her tongue in response, dissatisfied but relenting.

You suppress the urge to sigh while you walk towards the exit of the village. Other things, the list has only grown after talking to people in the Grove. Besides the Swamp, the crèche, and Halsin, you now also have Karlach to find and possibly Ethel who can help with your little tadpole problem.

‘One thing at a time. Swamp first, then we’ll see where we go.’ You try to reassure yourself, keeping a firm pace while listening to the others chatter.

~

You lay on your bedroll, unable to settle in. Wyll had taken the first watch but not too long ago you heard Astarion wake up and take his place. During the day the fights and liveliness of the group had kept your mind occupied, but now at night there are no distractions and your thoughts wander back to the night before.

You were equally restless then. The mental image of Alfira’s body still haunted your mind, the guilt of what you had done. The guilt had only worsened after meeting your loyal butler.

That ghastly little fiend had shattered your hope that the tadpole had been the cause of your dark Urges and Alfira’s fate. No, apparently these acts have been commonplace before you got kidnapped. Sceleritas Fel himself had been your guide hand and teacher towards depravities such as this.

Unfortunately the prick had refused to elaborate further as to why you had turned into such a savage murderer, and who was so invested in you becoming one, to the point of giving you a hellish butler to teach you. It left you with no new clues on how to prevent another outburst or to silence these dark whispers in your mind. The tone has shifted the more you resist it and become more insistent on what horrors you should inflict onto those around you.

One thing was certain, you couldn’t tell the others about this. They had been apprehensive enough when you were under the assumption Alfira died due to your tadpole’s influence. You rather not know how they would react if you revealed that massacre had been purely your own doing.

You sigh, you are not going to get any rest tonight. Might as well tell Astarion you can take his shift being on watch. You open your eyes and begin to push yourself upright when you lock eyes with Astarion leaning over you, his face mere inches from your own.

“…sh*t.” His face falls and he jerks back like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“What the-“ You start in a hushed tone, confused what he was doing when he cuts you off.

“No no- it’s not what it looks like I swear!” You raise an eyebrow at him, remembering he did give you a chance to explain yourself the other day. “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed- well, blood.”

You look at him, stammering and anxious, his red eyes, fangs, and the now oh so clear bite scars on his neck. ‘I’m a f*cking idiot…’

Getting up you move closer to him, away from the others. You don’t want to wake them in the middle of this. “This explains your late night walks, never joining us for meals. You’ve been hunting in the forest haven’t you? The boar we found was your doing, right?”

“Well, yes. I’m not a monster you know. I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get.” The tension in his shoulders eases up slightly. “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.”

‘Now that just isn’t fair.’ You know those big pleading eyes he’s giving you are a ploy, probably. Still it makes it very hard to tell him no. And you feel like you owe him for having your back after what happened with Alfira.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask in an attempt to deflect his request.

“At best, I was sure you would say no. More likely, you would ram a stake through my ribs.” He scoffs and gives you a bitter smile. “No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

If you ignore this little sneak-up he has been fairly reliable, a notorious flirt who likes to poke a little fun at times, maybe a little selfish most of the time, but he has had your back when it mattered. “I know, I do. I believe you.”

The last bit of tension in his posture disappears, and is replaced with a cautious curiosity. “Thank you. Do you think you could trust me just a little further? I only need a taste, I swear.”

You give him a bewildered look, the audacity of this man. “Wait, hold on. You have been complaining alongside Lae’zel about me meddling in the Grove situation and wanting to help. Saying I should focus on my own problems and not let others use me to fix theirs. And now you’re asking if you can bite me? You do see the irony there right?”

He gives you another pleading look, this time it’s borderline sultry. “If you would not mind. I can admit, you are more caring for their struggles than I am. An admirable trait some would say. That is why I feel like I can ask you for this favour. So….”

This is a bad idea, you know it. Deep down you know he is just using your willingness to help against you, and he could kill you if you let him bite you. But you do actually trust that he won’t, and you do owe him. Your last remaining resolve to say no crumbles away. ‘I really am a f*cking idiot.’

“Okay fine, but you better stop when I tell you.” You warn him after a moment of silence, hoping you didn’t make a big mistake.

“Of course, not one drop more.” He guides you back to your bedroll. “Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

You feel a tickle of nervousness when you lay back down. But you don’t get to think about your decision for long. Astarion bends over you again, briefly meeting your eyes with a confident reassuring smile before moving to your neck.

His bite isn’t as painful as you expected. A short, sharp sting that mellows out in a dull ache. Then soft lips on your skin and his breath fanning on your neck. You notice the smell of his perfume, the way his fingers slip into your hair to draw you closer.

Your breath catches, you can feel him take another mouthful of blood and swallow. Without thinking your fingers curl around his shirt, grabbing a handful of the fabric. The sensation of the blood leaving your body, the closeness of him hovering over you, makes your pulse quicken. You let him take one more mouthful, the dull ache of it now almost enjoyable combined with everything else. The way his tongue brushes over the puncture wounds sends tingles up your spine. But you are starting to feel lightheaded, you should stop.

“Astarion, that’s enough.” You nudge his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge. Instead he bites down again, harder this time, like icepicks into your neck. The dizziness gets worse. “Ouch, f*ck! Astarion, stop. I said that’s enough.”

He jerks away quickly with a gasp. “Ah! Of course. I was just swept up in the moment.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes still slightly crazed. A small part of you wonders if it is just because of the blood he took from you, or if he noticed how it made you feel. “But it worked. My mind is finally clearer. I feel strong. I feel… happy!”

You touch the side of your neck and wince at the slight throb. “I told you to stop. You almost drained me.”

“But I didn’t, that’s what matters. And look what you have gained. Together, we can take on the world.” You consider his words, while true, it doesn’t sit well with you that he didn’t stop when you told him to. But now wasn’t the time to talk.

“Hm, at least you’re feeling better. Let’s hope it does give you an edge during our next fight.” You let it go for now, trying to focus on the potential benefits.

“It shouldn’t take long. We seem to run into a fight around every other corner.” He gives you a half bow. “Now if you excuse me, you are invigorating, but I need something more filling.”

He starts walking away but stops for a moment. “This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

‘Neither will I, for at least the next day or so.’ You grimace, touching the tender flesh of your neck once more. You watch him disappear between the trees, wondering what it looks like when he hunts. Would he actually be stronger now after biting you?

You run a hand through your hair, trying to clear your head. The tenderness of your neck hasn’t overshadowed how his other touches lingered on your skin. The last remnants of his perfume, his fingers in your hair. ‘Forget it, let’s just figure out the logistics of how to feed him tomorrow.’

You feel tired, still standing there looking at the tree-line, which is actually a welcome change. Maybe you’ll be able to meditate tonight after all. Laying back down you get comfortable and soon feel your mind shift into a trance; the edge of fatigue seems to have calmed the thoughts that had plagued you and kept you up. A surprising benefit. Maybe letting Astarion feed on you has an upside or two.

Chapter 4: With bated breath

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You notice the Tieflings stealing subtle glances when you walk past. Not that you’re surprised, you must be a sight to behold. You had rushed to the Grove after finding out about the Shadow Druids in the Swamp. Not even bothering to clean up the mud that you had picked up along the way.

Not that your physique had improved much after going to Kagha. While you had managed to make her see sense, the Shadow Druids had focused their anger on you after foiling their plans. You’re battered, bruised, and thoroughly done with today.

The weakness in your legs doesn’t help either. Astarion’s bite has left you feeling wobbly. He on the other hand had been eager to head out, brimming with energy. Letting him feed on you probably shouldn’t be a regular occurrence considering your struggles today. Even if your heart quickened at the thought.

You carefully touch your nose then look at your fingertips, good, it has stopped bleeding.

“That might not have gone entirely as expected but we managed alright in the end if you ask me.” Gale, sounding chipper behind, had mostly played support from further back. “A shame I could only join you later in the day, I doubt we will do much else. You look absolutely knackered Amalthea.”

“I think I just need to sit down for a minute, once we’re outside the Grove. I’m feeling a tad exposed here.” Some of the Tieflings look at you in concern, they seem to be gathering the courage to ask you what happened. Granted, you can really use a rest right now, but there are too many people around here. You’re not really in the mood to explain your current state.

“And then? I have to agree with Gale, you don’t look well enough to do much more today.” Wyll asks, with concern in his voice. You wait for the groan of the opening door of the Grove to stop before you answer.

“We go back to the others in the Blighted village and start making our way to Karlach tomorrow. Let’s get that done with before we make a move towards the Goblin camp.” You finally reply, quickly leaving the ivy covered gate behind you and away from prying eyes. “We bought ourselves a bit of extra time with Kagha no longer doing the ritual.”

“Now if you gentlemen don’t mind, I need to sit down and feel sorry for myself for a minute.” Finally out of sight of the Tiefling guards, you lower yourself to the ground with a groan. Lean back against the wall and close your eyes. You just sit there for only a few moments when you hear someone sit next to you.

“Are you alright?” You open your eyes to see Astarion. If you didn’t know any better you would think there was even a hint of genuine worry on his face.

“I’ll be fine. Still just a bit woozy. And those Shadow Druids didn’t exactly pull their punches.” You say with a half smile, amused by his concern. You noticed something has shifted with him since this morning, he seems more relaxed, more open, around you than before. Like you have been tiptoeing around a line and finally took a step across. No longer having to hide what he was, being accepted for it, must be a weight off his shoulders.

Astarion purses his lips and gives you a critical look. “You know, I still do not understand why you bothered looking into this whole thing, trying to change Kagha’s mind. Nothing has changed really. Why put in the effort? We could have been halfway done with that Goblin camp and getting Halsin out, since you’re so intent on doing that as well.”

You shrug. “It felt like the right thing to do. If we had gone to Halsin immediately the Shadow Druids would still be around waiting to worm their way into someone else’s mind. And Kagha, well… Despite her flaws and being misled by them, I still wanted to believe she could realise her mistake on her own, without Halsin, and redeem herself. That she could come back from the wrong path. Doing this maybe didn’t make much of a difference for the Grove or us, but it did for her.”

Not wanting to delve into the topic any deeper you quickly find something else to talk about. “So how about that necromancy book? Do you plan on giving it another go tonight?”

“Oh no, my dear. There is no use trying the same method repeatedly with magic like this. Unfortunately I will have to leave the book unsolved until I can find a different way in. But…” He pauses for a moment. “I’m sure I can find something else to entertain myself with tonight. Do not worry about that.”

“Well I know what I’m going to do the moment we get to camp.” You pick off some dried flakes of mud from your arms. “I desperately need a bath.”

“Oh yes, on that much I agree. I vastly prefer a clean neck, you know. Getting sand between my teeth would really take away from the whole experience.” Astarion gives you a suggestive look before leaning back against the wall.

You let out an amused huff. While you know his interest in you isn’t sincere, you can’t help but feel a little taken by his shameless flirting. You let yourself fall back against the wall as well. Just watching Astarion sit next to you for a moment, him drinking in the warmth of the sun with his eyes half closed and a hint of a smile on his lips, before you reluctantly close your eyes as well and focus your magic to tend to your wounds.

~

You finish tying your hair back up after your bath, feeling a lot better physically. Getting rid of all the mud caked on your skin is definitely an improvement, but Shadowheart fixing your anaemia is probably the main reason. She had scolded you for not saying anything sooner, that it had been foolish to fight while feeling so weak when there is an easy fix for it.

She is right of course, from a purely practical standpoint, you’re not a fool. But practical logic wasn’t the reason you hadn’t gone to Shadowheart, neither was it shame for having to ask. Last night was the first time you had rested peacefully since waking up on the nautiloid. The brain fog and lethargy from the bite, the way it numbed your mind, it made the Urges feel more distant and easier to ignore.

Not that you were going to explain that to her. So after letting Shadowheart heal you, your wits returned to you and with it also your anxiety. You have been dreading where you will have to head soon, to the goblin camp. It’s not something you can just leave as is. You may have stalled it by another day, promising to first find Karlach for Wyll, but after that….

You are scared of what parts of yourself you will find there. Considering going to the Grove has stirred vague and distant memories. Mostly pleasant ones, your mother’s voice teaching you the druidic ways, practised fingers braiding your hair, the sweet and sour taste of freshly picked berries. But also a few unpleasant ones, the fox cub, the feeling of shifting into something entirely wrong.

You expect the goblin camp will do much the same, undoubtedly the majority of it will be unpleasant. Based on the short conversation with your Butler it is clear that your past is filled with horrific twisted acts, parts of yourself you’d rather not rediscover. But avoiding the camp is not an option either if you want to keep the Grove safe and find Halsin.

You sigh while walking back to camp, resigning yourself to the fact that it will be another long and restless night. If only you had a way to distract yourself, take your mind off things. You bite your lip while your fingers linger on your neck.

You had come to an understanding about Astarion’s eating habits this morning, that you aren’t entirely opposed to the idea of him biting you on occasion, as long as you initiated. The experience had been surprisingly good after all. And the way it had quieted your mind had been an unexpected boon that could help you again with your current predicament.

You look at his direction and find him staring at you while taking a long slow sip of wine. The intensity of it makes your heart flutter, as if he is drinking you in as well. It reminds you of the night he caught you bathing.

“Having a pre-hunt drink, Astarion?” You ask, gesturing towards his glass. The open bottle of Turmishan wine behind him.

“Darling, I was just thinking about you. Remembering our time together, the things we’ve shared - and I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours.” His eyes flicker down briefly, past your neck and collarbones, your clothes hang loosely over your curves but you know he has seen what’s underneath. “I am growing to like the whole package, honestly. And clearly you like me too, so…”

‘Well, I’m not going to say no to that.’ You think, a little surprised that he actually propositions you so soon. He seemed like the type that enjoyed the back and forth, the chase before the capture. Perhaps he is just as desperate for a distraction as you.

You can’t deny that part of you has been curious when all his flirting was going to lead anywhere. And clearly he has done the “sneak away for a night, no strings attached” before, so no risk of feelings getting hurt and complicating things.

But just because you’re interested doesn’t mean you need to make this easy for him, you can make him work for it a little bit. You take the glass of wine from his hand and take a sip, it’s heavy and full-bodied, the flavour lingering on your tongue. “…So?”

“Come now, don’t be coy. Your body has already given you away. I could feel it as I was getting lost in your neck.” He gives you a knowing look. “Your little shakes of excitement. The way you grabbed my shirt. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

You swirl the wine, the red liquid clinging to the glass is mesmerising, you quickly drag your gaze away and look at Astarion again. “And what if I did?”

His eyes sparkle, confident he has won you over. “You deserve better than how I treated you last night. And I can do better darling, far better. We could take an evening to ourselves. Get away from camp - get some privacy. I know somewhere quiet. Somewhere intimate. Somewhere we can… indulge in each other.”

“Careful Astarion dear, you almost make it sound like you’re offering more than just a night of good fun.” You know that isn’t the case, he’s been complaining far too much for actual feelings to be involved. But, since he is laying it on so thick, you can’t help but tease him a little.

He laughs, raising his hand as if making a vow. “Oh goodness, no. On my honour, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.”

“In that case, sounds good to me.” You offer him back the glass of wine. The way his fingers linger on your hand when he takes it from you makes you want to step closer. “Where will we go? You said you had a place in mind already.”

He takes a sip of wine, he looks as impatient as you do. “There is a secluded place nearby that should do nicely. Wait until the others are asleep, then come find me there.”

You think for a moment, you remember a clearing like that a little further ahead from where you were bathing earlier. “I know the place, I’ll meet you there.”

“Wonderful. I just hope we don’t have to wait too long before the others are asleep and we can steal away. But once we can, I promise you a night you will never forget. See you there, lover.”

~

‘Finally.’ It had taken a while for your other companions to fall asleep. But you knew it was safe to slip away once Gale started to softly murmur in his sleep, everyone was fast asleep. Astarion had already left a little earlier, his steps ghostly quiet.

Clearing the tents you start to quicken your step, easily finding the clearing Astarion mentioned. You take a deep breath, smelling the clean forest air, looking at the stars visible through the trees. This was nice.

“There you are, I have been waiting.” You see Astarion come towards you, his shirt already off. Despite grabbing him the other day, you’re still surprised by the lean muscles hidden underneath considering he has to rely on being quick and agile. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”

He stops a few steps away from you, as if waiting for permission. You don’t feel like playing coy anymore, the last few hours you have been waiting for the minutes to tick by, on edge with too many thoughts rattling in your brain. You want to lose yourself in him for the night, not having to think about tadpoles, Urges, or Goblins. You pull your shirt over your head in one smooth motion and close the distance between you.

“Well, waiting’s over.” You whisper before pulling him down and capturing his lips.

They are as soft as you imagined. The way they brush against yours holding a promise of what’s yet to come. The first specks of desire start to bubble up as you sigh. He responds by sucking your bottom lip between his own, claiming it. You slide your hands up his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hands on your hips guiding you upwards, forcing you to lift your heels off the ground, whilst keeping you steady. The tension in your stomach alternates between uncoiling and tightening as he presses your body against his.

You shiver when he buries a hand in your hair and angles your head to deepen the kiss, the taste of wine faintly lingering on his tongue. Astarion’s breath mingling with your own. You could get used to this.

Eagerly you run your hands down his shoulders, his skin smooth and cool beneath your fingertips. You open your eyes when Astarion pulls his lips away from yours. You would have complained about the loss if he hadn’t immediately moved his mouth just underneath your ear, gently nipping on the skin, sending sparks up your spine.

“Ah, Astarion.” He won’t bite you, not unless you give him expressed permission. And gods do you want him to, but not now, not yet. Your hands keep eagerly exploring his body, tracing over his chest and abs, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch.

His touches mirror your own, the hand in your hair slides down tickling your shoulder and ribs, until it finds your breast. Rubbing his thumb over your nipple and pinching it between his fingers. His other hand moves to squeeze your ass, his fingertips pressing up against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. An aching need starts to pool between your legs.

The trickle of pleasure from your explorations is addicting, you almost feel a pang of regret that you won’t take the time to savour every drop of it and return it in kind. Because today you want to be swept away quickly, plunging down deep. To drown yourself in him, forgetting the days that will come and have come to pass.

You need more, and Astarion isn’t moving fast enough. You pull yourself flush against him and slip your leg between his. Pressing your thigh upwards against the growing bulge in his trousers is rewarded with a sharp hiss and his fingers digging into your hips to still your movement. “Someone’s impatient.”

“Says the one who was waiting for me with his shirt off already.” You smirk, tracing one finger over the edge of his ear. “I’m not in the mood for sweet and gentle today.”

“Your loss, but there is always next time.” He presses another kiss against your collarbone and loops his fingers into your waistband. “Let’s take these off, shall we.”

‘There definitely will be a next time.’ You think briefly when he pins you between his naked body and the tree behind you. Your whole body is begging to be touched, to touch him. To keep chasing the pleasure dripping from his skin against yours, adding it to the urgent need settling in your abdomen.

Astarion cups and massages your chest, rubbing and rolling a nipple between his fingers until it stiffens, while kissing down the column of your neck towards your other breast. Heat simmers in your veins as he sucks and nips a trail of bruises into your skin.

You gasp when you feel a fang graze your nipple. The pain mixed with pleasure going straight to your core, making the aching throb between your legs worse. You bury your hands in his hair, pulling his face closer as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. More, you want more.

You can feel his hard length brush against your inner thigh, barely and inch away from where you want it. You try to shift your hips to rub yourself against him. But with your legs wrapped around his waist it’s near impossible to create the friction you want.

‘Not enough.’ You unhook one leg and use your heel and one hand to push both of you away from the tree and onto the ground straddling him. You move your hips lower, feeling him slide against your centre. The second tilt of your hips is smoother as your slick spreads over his dick

Your breath hitches as the head of his dick rubs against your cl*t, finally getting the friction you’ve been craving. You keep grinding yourself against him, the urgent craving that had been building starts to turn into delirious pleasure as you keep repeating the motion.

You look down at him, brushing some loose strands of hair out of your face, he’s panting and his eyes look hazy and unfocused.

“You still with me, Astarion?” You almost purr with a satisfied grin seeing him this undone beneath you. His eyes darken in response. Before you realise what he’s doing he presses a knee into your side, throwing you off-balance. You yelp when he flips you over and pins one arm above your head.

“I was just getting lost in your beautiful body, darling.” The confidence in his husky voice while he pins you down and grinds against you makes you almost want to let go and give into his slow careful ministrations. But you don’t want slow and you know exactly how to shatter his composure.

“Come on, I know you want to.” You roll your head to the side, exposing your neck. His hips stutter, and he lets himself fall over you, burying his nose in your neck with a groan.

“And here I thought you were some sweet little thing.” He mutters in your ear with a huff.

“Hmm, maybe next time.” You barely manage to reply before you moan as he bites down on your neck and pushes himself into you.

Your mind goes blank. The way he has you pinned down, the rush of blood being drained from you, him filling you up when he brings his hips flush with yours. All of it takes over your senses and leaves no room for thought.

He angles his thrust upwards, making you see stars. With your free hand you dig your nails into his back. The bumps underneath your fingertips only half register.

You lock your legs around his waist, drawing him in deeper. Using the limited leverage that you have to urge him on. His pace is steady and unrelenting, you feel the heat in your abdomen pulse and condense each time he thrusts into you, quickly climbing towards its breaking point. “F-f*ck, Astarion, please… Don’t stop, I’m gonna-, I’m almost…”

Astarion releases his hold on your neck and nips at the sensitive tip of your ear. “Are you going to come for me, dear?”

That sends you over the edge. You would feel embarrassed about how quickly you came or the obscene moan coming from your lips if it wasn’t for the mind shattering org*sm robbing you of all sense.

Only after the waves of pleasure diminish do you notice that your legs had slipped away from his waist and he had let go from your wrist he had pinned above your head. Astarion gently turns your head, your breath still ragged when you look at him with hazy eyes. The pad of this thumb brushes over your lips.

“Look who is all nice and agreeable now.” He rolls his hips into yours again causing you to shudder. “Are you ready for more, darling?”

“Gods, yes.” Still feeling breathless, your voice comes out airy. Astarion hums in approval as he starts moving again, his fingers that were on your lips travelling down and slipping between your bodies. Easily finding that sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles into it while he moves.

Still sensitive from coming, it doesn’t take long for pleasure to spark again in sync with Astarion’s touch. Any half formed thoughts quickly being erased as you let Astarion pull you under.

~

You blink, noticing that the sunlight has started to break through the trees. There’s a pleasant heaviness to your limbs, a lazy satisfaction settled in your bones. Your mind’s quiet and sated. No weird urges or anxieties, just the uncomplicated after sex glow while the day breaks.

You open your eyes as you stretch and groan, spotting Astarion as he takes in the first rays of sunlight. You notice the scars on his back, realising that must be what you felt underneath your fingertips last night. “You’re awake early.”

He only partially tilts his head towards you, making you unable to see his expression. “You sleep light. I thought you would be exhausted after last night.”

Your eyes flicker over the scars, a distant part of your memory recognizes it as Infernal, how did he end up with Hell’s speech on his back? Cazador most likely, but he had been reluctant to speak about him last time. “What about you? I assumed you would be more tired than me, considering the effort you put in.”

“Oh I feel fine, I don’t tire that easily.” You frown, it’s starting to bother you that you can’t see his face. His voice sounds… flat. Not the playful tone and sentences ending with darlings and dears like you have gotten used to. He did seem a bit absent last night. Did you do something wrong?

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there at times.” You ask carefully, quietly slipping into your trousers that are laying in a crumpled heap next to you.

“I was holding back a little, it is true. I did not want to lose control. Delicious as you were, I did not want to go too far.” That makes sense. He had been remorseful about losing control the first time he bit you. Explaining that it had been his first time feeding on something other than an animal. “Now, shall we get on? I want to go before the others wake.”

You hesitate, reassured Astarion was feeling fine you wonder if you should ask about his scars. f*ck it, he can always tell you to shove it if you’re overstepping. “I… I want to ask about your scars first. What is it?”

“It is a poem. A gift from Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. He composed and carved that one over the course of a night.” The matter a fact tone he uses makes you flinch, this was just one of the many wounds Cazador had inflicted on Astarion. The defeat in his voice in what he says after that only emphasises it had been a bad idea to bring it up. “He made a lot of revisions as he went.”

You step closer, despite it clearly being an uncomfortable subject there is one thing that still concerns you and you have to press him about. “Why did he write it in Infernal?”

Astarion finally turns around to look at you. He seems surprised before switching to a dismissive smile. “Infernal? I… Who knows? The bastard was insane. Now let’s go. We have wasted enough time already.”

You try to give him a reassuring smile, maybe asking had been one step too far. “Yes, sorry, of course. Let’s get ready to find a Devil, shall we?”

Chapter 5: Healing wounds

Chapter Text

You haven’t felt this at ease since you woke up at the nautiloid. The chaos of everyone around you, the smell of a roast in the air, knowing exactly what to say to get the response you want. You fit in seamlessly, this is where you belong. And you absolutely hate it.

You already knew it would be like this, that going to the goblin camp would bring up your Urges in full force. Not even the sluggish fog of letting Astarion feed from you again last night can dull the edges of this onslaught of sensations.

It is suffocating, your neck is already slick with sweat with the effort of staying in control. You don’t want to be here. But you have to be, to keep the Grove safe, to find Halsin and get cured. So you have to play the part, endure it. Get deeper into the ruined temple to find out where Halsin is.

You swerve right, wanting to avoid the Goblin priestess in the middle of the room. The screaming you heard earlier gets louder. Your heart flutters from either excitement or fear, you’re not sure which. You want to pass quickly but your eyes can’t help but linger on the man tied to the rack. The Goblin in front of him turns and looks you right in the eye. f*ck.

“ ‘ere to see yer friend, have ya? Come an’ join ‘im, if ya like.” Absolutely not, you need to think of a good excuse to leave without becoming a part of this. You take half a step back and feel someone’s chest against your back.

“Say we’ll take over. His work is sloppy; he’ll kill the prisoner too quickly.” Shadowheart whispers into your ear before giving you a decisive shove forward. Double f*ck.

Your mouth goes dreadfully dry, panic ringing in your ears, Shadowheart’s words have you in a choke hold. You can’t back out now. Somehow you manage to keep your composure and curl your lips in a confident smile. Your words come out smooth like cool water, you know what you’re doing. “I have a better idea. I’m a professional, you see. Let a master show you how it’s done.”

“Bloodthirsty, ain’t ya? HA. Go on then: make ‘im scream.” The Goblin cackles, stepping back to give you space and looking at you expectantly.

It faintly registers that the prisoner is talking to you, pleading. But it sounds muted and distant. Still, the incoherent words just cling to your skin like oily fingers, you can feel them claw over your abdomen and ribs, or maybe in… you’re not entirely sure.

Noticing the wheel attached to the rack you place a foot on it, and lean to press it down. The contraption groans and the prisoner screams. His sobs send shivers down your spine. “Go… die.”

Stay focused, you need to make this quick so you can get the hell away from here. ‘Just talk you idiot, just talk and we can get this over with.’

You look at the implements to the side of you. A flash of a memory surfaces when you pick up the hot poker, a hand extending a crooked dagger.

“What shall it be, Milady? The chains again, or will you be holding the knife this time?” You remember curling your small fingers around the knife, desperation and relief burning hollow in your chest.

You grip the poker tighter, the weight of it familiar in your hand when you step closer. Thighs are so soft and sensitive, so perfect to caress. You hear the sizzle of burning through the fabric and the scream when you touch bare skin. The sweet smell of burning flesh now in the air.

You’re actually good at this you realise, slowly dragging the poker downwards to his knee, leaving a trail of angry flesh. You could do this for hours and not tire of it.

“No! P-please… we, to the east. P-past the ruins and… the bridge… They covered the entrance with ivy…” Your attention snaps back to the prisoner’s voice, it is thick with defeat. In contrast you feel shame, you will have to make sure tomorrow that his confession hardly matters.

“You’re a nasty piece of work! An’ we got what we needed. Ya weren’t ‘alf bad for an Elf. Drow’ll be happy when she hears it.” The Goblin pats you on your side before walking off.

You take a shuddering breath when they’re around the corner. Hating how good you feel. You want to leave, but before that... He flinches when you place your hand on him for the healing spell. “P-please… please l-let me out. Th-there’s no reason for this!”

“Shush or they’ll hear you and come back.” The burned skin on his leg stitching itself back together again. He looks at you with watery eyes.

“You don’t have time to coddle this one, if he can’t even handle that much he shouldn’t have come here. Save your magic in case we need it and let’s go.” You choose to ignore Lae’zel’s comment. This is the least you could do after what you did to him.

The locks around his wrists are old and rusty, you roughly wiggle the pick a few times before you hear a dry click. Glad you didn’t break it with Astarion just behind you. He almost falls into your arms before he steadies himself and jerks back.

“Thank you I… I’d better go before they catch us. I should be able to get to the Grove on my own.” He slips past, you hope he’s right. You squeeze the back of your neck, the muscles getting tense, another headache is brewing.

“Come on, let’s go.” You avoid your companions eyes walking past them, you rather stay blissfully ignorant of their opinions of your actions surely written on their faces.

The two sides of your mind grind against each other. You can’t deny that you enjoyed it. But the guilt for it is crippling. Why didn’t you try and find a way to talk yourself out of it? Why let Shadowheart strong-arm you into this? She didn’t even have to push you that hard on it. You wish you had chosen differently, now and in the past. To not pick up the weapon at all.

“Chk, this place and its strange customs. What is that man doing? Did he upset one of the leaders and is atoning for his failure?” You follow Lae’zel’s gaze, in the next alcove over there is a man kneeling onto what seems like blood slicked stone.

You have seen clothes like his before, scarred bodies, practised patient hands. A follower of Loviatar. “His form of prayer, more like.”

You step closer, being drawn in. A small part of you protests, this is not the time or place to indulge. The next 5 minutes will be a very very stupid series of decisions, but you need this. It should help set you straight, clear your mind and reign in your Urges again. You need this to get through the day without snapping and doing something else you’ll regret later.

“Greetings, child. I’ve met few aside goblins here.” He looks you over, your presence a clear anomaly, his eyes light up in understanding. “Ah, are you also here to assist with the prisoner?”

“So you are the one who taught those goblins how to interrogate those they capture.” Deflecting his question.

“Please. The things they are doing to that man… so crude and primitive. I was invited to teach them, yes. I live for pain and its intricacies, you see, but alas…” He seems more bothered by the goblin’s inability to learn his skills than their use for it. “Pain without purpose is a terrible thing, wouldn’t you agree?

Both sides of your mind give conflicting answers to that question. Better not to answer. “Is their simplistic way of inflicting pain beneath a follower of Loviatar?”

His eyes light up at the mention of his Goddess. “You know the Maiden of Pain? How refreshing. But there is more to us than that. Yes, we worship her through pain - often our own. But it is an intimate and loving thing and one we offer up freely. If you would permit it, I can show you first-hand.”

Being invited to be a torture teacher hardly seems to fit that description but you aren’t here to discuss those semantics. There’s another nudge and Shadowheart’s amused voice behind you. “Go ahead - I’m sure you’re in need of a little penance.”

Anger scratches at your scalp. How can she be so lighthearted about torturing an innocent man? Lucky for her you already planned to take him up on the offer. “I have to admit I am curious, and not unfamiliar with pain of this nature. Use the dagger, I’m not in a gentle mood.”

“My - an eager student indeed. And a most excellent choice. The Mistress would approve.” He caresses the dagger before picking it up and gesturing towards the wall. “Both Loviatar and I are interested in how you handle pain, dear one. And should you delight her, you will most assuredly receive her gracious blessing - trust me. Simply face the wall, and we can begin.”

You start to unlace your armour, ignoring Lae’zel’s protests of this foolish distraction, dropping it on the table. Placing your hands on the cool stone wall, you take a deep breath and relax.

Not a moment too soon the familiar sharp pain of the dagger digs into your skin, but you welcome it this time. The chaos in your mind quickly slips away from you when the second slice zips across your back.

~

The bridge underneath your feet swings in tandem with your mind. After submerging yourself into the dark depths of the goblin camp all day, you finally got all the information you need. The lay-out of the ruins, where noteworthy people tended to linger, and last of all, where the cells are they kept Halsin in.

But it had taken every bit of your restraint not to snap. It was disturbing how easy it was to follow along with the sweet words your Urges sung, to smile wickedly at the casual suffering in front of you, to imagine the wicked potential the goblins had if you nudged them in the right direction.

It took every bit of your determination to remind yourself that this was a necessary act, that these thoughts weren’t you, the enjoyment of it wasn’t you. That distinct difference had been on the verge of slipping through your fingers multiple times.

It was only after Abdirak carved some literal sense into you that you had a brief respite and something tangible to tether your sense of self to.

And tomorrow you will have to go back, not to create the kind of carnage your hands are itching for, but close enough that it left you uneasy.

“Well as delightful as that den of depravity was, I am glad we are returning to camp. It gets a bit tedious when you have to look that far down for most of your interactions.” Astarion chats casually, he doesn’t seem fazed by anything you saw today. It adds another tick of irritation, he got to hang back and let you do all the talking.

“Duly noted. Lucky for you, we won’t be doing much talking tomorrow. I hope you’re ready to spend the whole day wiping out the camp.” The sharp edge in your voice is clear, you’re really not in the mood to talk. You just want to get to camp and be alone, shove the memories of today down one of the many deep chasms in your mind. Maybe also look after those wounds on your back, the sting of sweat reminding you that they’re still there.

“Oh touchy. I know that place is not exactly your scene but no need to take it out on me.” He gives you a curious look. “You know, you surprised me in there. I could see you were struggling at times when the others weren’t looking. Your jaw clenching and eyes frantic.”

His usual playful tone had turned more serious at the end. He looks unsure, as if he was stumbling towards the point he was trying to make. “But you were surprisingly effective at playing the merciless cult member. I didn’t think you had it in you to do what was necessary, and it was necessary to be clear. What I’m trying to say is, you did well in there.”

You see red. It was necessary? You did well? Astarion might be fine with what you did today but you certainly were not.

“Don’t you ever compliment me for being cruel again, Astarion.” You hiss through clenched teeth. You catch a glimpse of his stunned face when you turn and quickly march down the path towards the camp.

~

You dab a damp cloth against your shoulder, waiting for the congealed blood to soften so you can clean the cuts underneath. While not your intention, prodding the cuts helps to calm your mind again. The rage and anxiety from an hour ago slowly bleeds out of you. You feel shaky, maybe you pushed yourself too far today.

Today has been bad, as expected, but you got through it. And Astarion had been foolish enough to compliment you for it. Idiot.

You don’t mind his tendency for causing a little chaos, mostly mischievous in nature, you could even call it part of his charm. His preference for the quick and easy fix, no matter the collateral consequences, you could tolerate and navigate. But he had to know that complimenting you for what you did today was a step too far.

Unless it was his clumsy attempt to comfort you. You sigh. Idiot.

“Before you reply, know that I won’t take no for an answer.” You hear a familiar voice behind you. “And I’m not as easily rattled by you getting snippy as Astarion.”

“I’m not really in the mood for a chat, Shadowheart.” You reply without even bothering to turn around. You want, no need, a moment for yourself before going to Lae’zel and Gale to talk through the plans for tomorrow.

“Just listen then. You know I’m not a very open person, so don’t turn down this rare opportunity where I feel like sharing. And more importantly, you are going to need help cleaning those cuts.” Her hand takes the cloth from you and dab it further down your back. “You have been walking around with these for hours and they need to be cleaned properly before they can be healed. You won’t be able to do that by yourself.”

You don’t reply and let Shadowheart clean your back, waiting for her to continue speaking. “As I said earlier today, I appreciate that you don’t judge me for worshipping Shar, not many people would have taken it as well as you did. And you said you wanted to know more.”

Ah, right. You had almost forgotten that Shadowheart had let that detail about herself slip after commenting on the ruins of Selûne’s temple. “I do, to be frank, I know nothing of Shar and her teachings. So even if I wanted to, I have nothing to judge your faith on. It is one of the many things I draw a blank on.”

Shadowheart chuckles, rinsing the damp cloth and gently starts cleaning the second cut. “Something we have in common. Shar is the goddess of darkness and loss. To protect her secrets I had to give up most of my own memories. Once I prove myself they should be returned to me.”

‘Sacrificing your memories, your identity, willingly?’ You consider it for a moment. It is an extreme measure and sacrifice for worshipping a deity. Your own amnesia has been both a blessing and a curse.

It has robbed you of early childhood memories, the glimpses you have had feel like you were loved and cared for. But it also shields you from facing the reality of your horrible actions that followed later, whatever the reason may be for you to turn towards that path. It left you as a blank slate, for better or for worse.

“Do you regret it? Giving up your memories I mean.” You suppress a flinch as the cloth catches the edge of a scab.

“What is there to regret? I don’t remember my own motivations for it. Being a follower of Shar requires a lot of sacrifice and trust.” The cloth on your back stops moving while Shadowheart is thinking. “While she can take away the aches and grief from painful memories, for true worship you need to give her your whole being. I can only trust that her teachings are true, and dedicate myself to finding comfort in her darkness and teachings, even if it is painful sometimes.”

Shadowheart’s matter of fact tone leaves you unsettled, it sounds like throwing yourself into a void, to become nothing. Is this why she was so uncaring in the goblin camp?

“That sounds… lonely.” You reply hesitantly, Shadowheart’s words were a lot to process, the parallels and contrasts with your own amnesia. The concerns about your own identity, if someone would understand it would be Shadowheart. You need to talk to someone about it, even if it is in vague terms.

“I sometimes have glimpses of memories, without context I don’t know what they mean and if they are even real. I don’t know who I was before all this, I don’t know if I want to know who I was. But turning a blind eye to it also feels like I’m running away, not willing to face what I might have done.” Shadowheart squeezes your shoulder as you take a deep breath, lessening the heaviness in your heart ever so slightly but makes your cuts throb. Reminding you that there is one more thing you need to address.

“Shadowheart, there’s something else I need to ask you.” You turn around to look at her, seeing her confused look in response to your change in tone. “Today at the goblin camp, why did you push me to torture that prisoner?”

Shadowheart frowns at you, lowering the cloth and shifting her weight backwards. “He was going to be tortured either way, Amalthea. Walking away could have blown our cover. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“It is a big deal to me.” You try to swallow away the lump in your throat. You can’t begin to explain to her how much of an internal conflict it had been for you. You can’t mention the darkness lurking inside of you, only who it is you wish to be. “Fighting bad guys, goblins, is one thing. I don’t mind that. It’s a matter of survival, safety. But hurting him… I don’t want to be like that. To not care, or brush it aside and tell myself it was necessary.”

“Ah, so that’s why you were acting so odd and yelled at Astarion, because you were mad at me?” Her surprise turns into a more critical look. Your stomach leaps, she connected those dots fast. “Is that why you refused to get healed after Abdirak? As some actual penance? Or why you didn’t use Lesser Restoration on yourself after you let Astarion have access to your neck the other day?”

You feel heat creep up your cheeks, she didn’t have to put it that bluntly. “I- well, yes. About my back, yes that is why. Astarion biting me has nothing to do with it though, and not fixing my anaemia. I just… I don’t know how to use Lesser Restoration.”

‘Gods this is embarrassing.’ You shift uncomfortably, what kind of druid doesn’t know such a basic spell?

“Amalthea, that’s just…” She shakes her head, dismissing whatever comment she was about to make and sighs. “I will keep it in mind, but stop punishing yourself like this. Speak up if you’re uncomfortable with what we’re doing.”

“Besides, it was a foolish thing to do considering the dangers we have been in lately.” Shadowheart rinses the cloth one more time, then gives you a wave of her hand. “Turn around, let me take care of that last cut.”

“I’ll try and take better care of myself. And being more honest when I don’t agree with what we’re doing.” You take a deep breath and close your eyes, you don’t like being at odds with your companions.

That reminds you… “I should probably apologise to Astarion as well. He was being an idiot but he didn’t deserve me lashing out like that.”

Shadowheart hums in agreement. “He has been rather sulky since we got back to camp. He would probably deny it if you asked but I think he actually has, genuinely, started to care about your opinion.”

You feel a familiar coolness come over your back when Shadowheart casts the healing spell. It takes away most of your nausea but not all of it, you hope you’re not getting ill. “There, that’s better. Now, I assume that after you two kiss and make up, Astarion’s midnight snacking on your neck will continue. So, we should do something about your lack of Lesser Restoration knowledge as well.”

She flashes you a smug smile. “I don’t mind healing you when the time calls for it, it is my job as the cleric after all, but you are going to give me too much teasing material if you have to come to me every other morning.”

You snort, glad that most of the tension you had been holding was gone. “Probably a good idea. But not anytime soon. We got a goblin camp to deal with first. And for that, I need to talk to Lae’zel and Gale. Figure out how we should go about things tomorrow.”

“In the meantime don’t let him feed off you daily, it’s not good for your constitution even with spell support. Tell that spoiled little vamp “no” sometimes, it will do him good, he has plenty of other opportunities to get what he needs around here.” You get up while listening to Shadowheart’s advice and dust off your leggings, Shadowheart following your example. “Talking about Gale, he looked a bit off again. I think that magical item you gave him has worn off.”

Right, another oddity in the group that you had to add to your list of worries and responsibilities. Why did all of them have something going on that makes things more complicated? You sigh. “I’ll have a look in our spare item trunk and see what we can miss.”