#fated(love)

The tranquil sounds of a river flowing fills your ears and your stomach can’t help but grumble at the thought of the seafood within it. The others must think the same as you as you all come to a standstill locating which direction the sound comes from. You lead the group through the brush off the path keeping an ear for the sound of lapping water getting louder. Under fallen trees and several berry bushes you find a quaint clearing near said river. The surrounding trees give much needed shade with limbs of long forgotten trees placed nearly in a perfect triangle in the center.

“Perfect!” Karlach rejoices, throwing her camp gear on the ground with a thud. Everyone shakes off the equipment they’ve so far gotten and make way to prepare the space for the night. Astarion flanks your side silently, his lips so close to your ears you can feel his breath on your neck.

“Good job little killer.” A tingle shoots straight up your spine and shakes out through your shoulders. You scowl and side step, ready to remind him of personal space but he’s already moved and gone to set up his tent. You bite your lip in frustration and choose to not follow behind him. He would be hearing from you very soon regardless.

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With dinner settled in your stomach and water in your canteen you felt like a brand new person. A fire roared in the middle of the logs as you all enjoyed the warmth of the fire against the cool night air. You passed time seeming to absentmindedly twiddle pieces of wood, small but necessary stakes easily hid under clothing. No one seemed to pay it any mind. People were now drifting in and out of the warm campfire, most calling it a night. You feigned the same, cuddled into your sleeping sack. Truly, you kept an eye on Astarion and his comings and goings. If your assumptions were correct, he would need to leave camp soon to find someone or something to sink his teeth into. That’s when you would sneak into his tent and surprise him on his return. You peer out of one eye and find Astarion closing the tent he set up a bit away from the rest of everyone. Only the small crunch of branches alerts you that he has went off into the forest. You waste no time and jump out of the sleeping bag and head towards his tent. You do a double check around camp, sure that everyone is truly asleep. With a bated breath you break your way into his tent. A gasp escapes you as you take in the lavish interior. Soft fur pelts line the flooring with fluffed pillows and duvets littering the far corners. Black silk sheets are thrown over overly plush arm chairs. A long oak table with an ornate table cover littered with maps and quills sits to your immediate left. Dripping wax candles crowd every surface available to them. Your attention snaps to the sound of soft footsteps nearing the tent just outside. You curse yourself for even taking the precious time to gape at his grand belongings. You make the quickest and easiest decision and dive under the table. Just at that moment you hear his feet at the entrance and swallow your ragged breaths. You’ve got this, this isn’t anything new to you; you remind yourself. You register the polished shoes of Astarion enter inside. He makes a few steps into the tent and you ready yourself. You smirk at how easy this has become. Stupid vampires, so full of themselves, so naive and not even suspecting-

“Are you going to come out or do I have to drag you out?” Astarion asks in a bored tone. Your nails dig into your palms in frustration. Biting back every curse you can think you slink out from under the table and stand behind the vampire. He keeps his back to you as he reaches in front of his chest to undo the buttons of his shirt. Animal blood stains the front of his shirt, his first feed had made all civility lost on him. Savagery had taken hold of him and he felt that same fire now. For how it was going to be used was up to you.

“You know if you wanted a fun little night you could of just asked me little killer.” Astarion muses, mocking your new nickname. A cocky smirk graces his face as he juts his chin towards the pile of pillows in the corner. “That would make a much better spot than that dreary old table.”

You reach ever so carefully down into your boot where you had kept a stake hidden. Controlling your breaths, counting each one to zero in your focus you raise your weapon straight.

“I came here looking for answers, not to fuck.” You spit from behind grinding teeth. You remind yourself of the anger that fuels you. The revenge that fills your being and drives you.

“Oh darling, who says both aren’t possible.” Astarion keeps up, he cocks his head your way as he begins to turn to look at you. He’s met with the sight of your deadly stare and a sharpened stake directed right at him. All smugness wipes clean from his face as fury takes hold. “Smart little thing.” is all he gets out before you rush him. Your feet move quick, unnaturally fast, and bring you closer to him. Astarion swings to the side grabbing hold of your arm to further throw you into the tent. He brings you off kilter, stumbling forward past him. You correct yourself and pivot back. An alabaster hand flys forward and grabs the scruff of your shirt. His other hand reaches out to further grab hold. But you move and wrap a leg around his own and pull towards yourself. He loses balance and tumbles back a bit. Its enough to get his hand off of you and you use those precious moments to push off and towards him. Your fingers grip your stake and you raise it overhead. Astarion sweeps a leg out and catches your midriff. Oxygen explodes out of your lungs as you crash into the table. Astarion leaps onto you, catching each of your arms with his hands. He twists the stake out from your grip and seizes both of your wrists in one of his hands. The momentum has your back slamming into the oak beneath you. A hand pounds down next to your head as Astarion face comes a breath away from your own.

“Looks like your quite trapped.” Astarion snickers. His lips hover just over your own, breathes mingling in the small bit of space between you two. Hungry crimson eyes skim over you and find purchase in your biting gaze. Heat and anger passes in your shared stare. His canines shine in the flickering candle light as he brings himself inch by inch closer to your neck. Your throat bobs and you swear his eyes follow the thump of your pulse in your carotid. You can’t help the muffled squeal that barely escapes your full lips. Astarion hears it though and his malicious grin only grows wider. You push against the restraint of his strong grasp and wriggle on the hard table. His other hand comes to your throat and cold fingers swipe hair away from your neck. His thumb presses under your chin and forces your gaze up and over as his nose brushes against your cheek. Hot breath licks your neck.

His attention is now fully on his next meal and away from the threat that truly lies beneath him. Using core strength you fling your body upwards as best you can as you tuck your knees into your chest. Not a second later your boots find purchase on his chest and thrust him back as hard as you can. Astarion flounders back and trips over the discarded silk sheet lying on the floor. You push off the table hard and sink into a crouch. A second stake hidden in the opposite boot makes its appearance as you then jump on the fallen Astarion. You straddle him, a hand on his chest with the other pointing the stake right at his jugular. The point just kisses his ivory skin creating a small wound. He scowls at you, nothing but pure hatred gleaming through his eyes.

“Like I said, I have questions. And you are going to answer them Vampire.” You press. You see a small flinch of movement come from his hands and you warn him with jabbing the sharpened wood a little deeper into his throat. You tut at his attempts to move.“You are not my first nor last biter, so don’t try it with me.”

“But I would dare say I’m the most handsome.” He smiles. You have to fight the urge not to roll your eyes. He assesses his situation looking you up and down. Asserting you are a decent enough threat he stills his attempts at escape. “What’s your questions then?”

“I’m looking for a certain vampire. I have a score to settle. Names Cazador, where can I find him?” You ask. At the mention of the vampire Astarion’s face drops. A chill wraps the air and an unnatural stillness settles between the two of you. The temperature drops and you almost shiver. Astarion’s face is unreadable, a look of fright and confusion mixes on his face. Nails digging into the wooden weapon you lean into it, putting a bit of extra pressure on the device.

“Well? Anything to say blood sucker?” Your patience thinning. Astarion’s eyebrows scrunch together, trying to unwrap what you had just said to him. Surely he must of misheard you. There’s no way some stranger he just happen to meet would be asking about the Cazador. His old master. The slave owner. His personal horror.

“Cazador?” Asatarion can’t help but repeat. His brain refused to keep up with what was happening. His thoughts a run away train at the mention of his old owner.

“Did I stutter vampire? Now are you going to tell me or do I press this stake all the way through?” You seethe.

“Why?” The authenticity of his question makes your eyebrows raise. His face holds no mystery, just curiosity.

“Does it matter? He has spilled blood and I plan to return the favor. Now. Where can I find him? Once this tadpole situation is handled he’s my goal.” You press. Astarion takes a minute to ponder his situation.

“I’ll tell you where he is. For a cost. A tic for tac. See, if you want to get your hands on Cazador you are going to have to get in line. I have my own qualms with him myself. We could.. help each other.” He bargains. A feeling of mistrust burrows deep in your chest. No good came from vampire bargains. As much as you had high suspicions, this was the first time someone knew Cazador or was willing to go against him in giving away his location.

“And what do you want in return?” You ask. You back the pointed stick from his jugular and retreat your hands from him. Astarion brings himself up by the elbows to look you in the eyes.

“A debt to be collected at my choosing. Doing what I ask at that time.” Asatarion smirks. Curse the vampire, of course he would keep an open ended bargain. You desperately want to say no. To drive a stake in his unmoving heart and go on with it. But this was your first shot, maybe only shot, at finding Cazador. Letting a long breath out you level your gaze with his. You hesitate before responding.

“Are the rumors true? Bargains with vampires are signed with a kiss?” You timidly ask. It was something you had picked up from another traveler before. Someone who had run into their supposed fair share of vampires. A wide smirk stretches across Astarions face.

“My my, don’t you know everything. Now, do we have a deal?” You take one more deep breath and give a small nod. Astarions hand reaches up and wraps around your neck and twines within your hair. His other hand finds purchase on your hip and brings you closer to his chest. He lifts his face to yours as you gently bend to reach. Your eyes flutter close as Astarions lips press into your own. Lips mold perfectly together, as if they were created for this moment alone. A knot tightens in your chest. A soul grabbing lurch pulls you into him. It’s gravitational. World stopping. Like when your eyes had met for the first time the world seems to fall away from the both of you. Just as quickly as it had come, Astarion pulls from the kiss. You mentally recover from the way it gripped you so harshly. Chalking it up to the very anti-romance your life has led thus far. You swear you see astonishment in his features, but just as quickly it is gone.

“And whoever told you bargains are sealed with kisses was the biggest perv in all Faerun, but do thank him for me.” Astarion is all grins. A blush explodes across your face and down your chest. You feel red hot and immediately jump off Astarion as if he is made of fire. Astarion rises, flicking dust from his shoulders nonchalantly.

“You are the absolute worst!” You all but scream.

“Please, the flirting can only get you so far.” Astarion watches you fling yourself from his tent without a look back, hot anger palpable from you. Once you made your exit Astarion sinks to his knees with a hand quivering at his lips. He had a small suspicion when he met your gaze. The way the world seemed to standstill. That an immortal and ancient knot seem to tie at that very moment. But he didn’t think it possible. A rarity. Almost laughable really, especially for a spawn.

“Mates.” He whispers to himself.

Part one here