Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The piercing bellow of a horn startled Tav awake, jolting her from a tranquil slumber. For a fleeting moment, she recalled waterfalls and fireflies and yearned to return to that moment. But the horn cried out so much so that it practically shoved Tav to her feet. Tav reluctantly complied, still readjusting herself as she blinked away the sleep from her eyes.

Before Tav could perceive what troubled her once quiet camp, a distant voice screamed out: “Vampires!”

A rush of adrenaline pumped within Tav as she grabbed for her crossbow in haste. Upon loading a bolt and saving several within reach, she donned her boots and entered the fray. She didn’t have time to change out of her nightwear, ignoring the cold as it pierced through the thin fabrics.

Fire licked the night air and smoke plumed, nearly blocking Tav’s sight. Swift silhouettes of many figures danced within the chaos as screams and yells cut into the howling wind. Tav recognized her leader’s voice, Ulma, shouting:

“They have the children!”

Tav’s heart plummeted and her crossbow shook in her hands. Nevertheless, she advanced forward, aiming her crossbow despite the smoke billowing toward her face.

Gritting her teeth, Tav broke through the smoke and witnessed her tribe of Gur fending off the swarm of vampires. Spells and weapons flew as blood was swiftly drawn and soiled the ground. A couple of other vampires made their escape with the children, dragging them away on a cart that rocked upon the rough terrain.

“Mama! Papa!” the children cried out; their voices nearly drowned out from the chaos.

“Shit!” Tav fumbled with her crossbow as she focused on her aim. The children’s heads blocked the driver of the cart, but another vampire came into full view right by the vehicle.

With a deep breath and a relaxed form, Tav pressed the trigger. The bolt hummed as it cut through the wind, plunging its way into the vampire’s leg with a sharp thud.

With a groan, the vampire crumpled to the ground. Tav smirked, but her moment of triumph fled as one of the vampires conjured up a portal within the shadows. A surge of panic rippled in Tav’s chest as she found herself making a dash forward, but she swayed from side to side as the fleeting bodies of the vampires brushed past her—bolting from the fight and making a bee-line for the portal.

“Cowards!” Ulma shouted, aiming her bow at the vampires and firing.

The rest of the tribe did the same, but the slew of arrows missed as the vampires’ swiftness betrayed their aim.

The vampires flew into the portal along with the shrieking children. Once they departed, the portal contorted while closing in on itself. A spark of magic puffed out from where the portal used to be, before it too flitted away into the darkness. The sound of a child’s scream reverberated before all fell quiet.

Tav stumbled before her legs gave in and she collapsed to her knees. All around her, shouts and curses flung forth in a flurry of disarray.

“Shit, where did they go!?”

“By the gods, what are we to do?”

“How in the hells did they find us in the first place?”

Tav’s hands dug into the dirt, crushing the ground and clawing it towards her shaken legs. She yearned to curse and shout alongside her comrades, but she found herself unable too. Tav struck her hand several times into the dirt until her fists ached. Tears stung her eyes as they drifted from side to side, hoping for a glimmer of hope within the darkness. But she soon caught sight of a trail of blood leading into the forest.

With a steady rise to her feet, Tav collected her crossbow and followed the trail. The line of blood directed her into the new terrain, where a canopy of trees nearly blocked the sky, but saved the moon’s light to spill a dusky blue glow upon the foliage. The light gathered itself onto an old willow tree where its long, feathery branches caressed a fallen figure. The vampire that Tav hit leaned against the trunk; his hand had reached for the embedded arrow before exhaustion took its toll on him.

Tav lingered forward with caution, her crossbow aimed at the vampire’s heart. Sweat creased her forehead and meandered down her cheeks. Her own heart beat in quick succession, but it beat so fast she feared it would pop at any moment.

Tav gulped down the lump that tempted to lodge itself in her throat. As she moved closer, the vampire’s eyes peeled open. Tav halted as she was met with a pair of red that shimmered against the moonlight. What froze Tav all the more was the sly smile that crossed his pale face.

In mere seconds, Tav found her world spiraling as the sky fell below her feet and the ground collided with her head. She gasped at the impact, only for it to be cut off by a pale hand pressing to her mouth. The cold bite of a blade snaked its way to Tav’s neck, chilling her skin and bringing her nerves to tangle into tight binds. The vampire hovered over her, his fangs flashing a pure white.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the vampire taunted, a chuckle crawling from his throat.

Tav spotted a rock at the corner of her eye, but before she could grab it, a rustle in the bushes brought her attention, followed by Ulma’s voice.

“Tav!”

Tav’s breath hitched as a trickle of blood beaded onto her skin. Ulma and a few members approached, their weapons drawn but they halted upon seeing the situation at hand.

“Hmm, let’s not get too hasty now,” the vampire said. “One wrong move, and I slit her pretty little neck.”

The blade’s cruel touch ignited a fear Tav never recalled harboring. Her whole body froze up except for her hand that reached for the rock in frantic motions. Tav’s fingers clawed at the dirt as she inched closer to the item. The vampire heeded nothing as he observed Ulma and her people, ensuring that they did what they were told.

With undying resolve, Tav finally grasped the rock in her hand. A wave of triumph overcame her as, in one swift swing, she stuck the vampire’s temple. The vampire’s eyes widened briefly before they rolled to the back of his head. He slumped to the side in one fluid motion, akin to a rag doll.

Tav breathed in and out in rapid succession while crawling backwards. Her head still ached from the collision, but she managed to collect her crossbow and scramble to her feet. Blinking away her disorientation, Tav breathed in sharply once more and aimed the crossbow at the vampire. Instead of shooting, however, she hesitated.

“What are you waiting for?” Ulma urged. “Shoot the spawn!”

Tav’s finger fidgeted with the trigger as her eyebrows drew together in concentration. Her mind raced quickly as Ulma’s words echoed in her head, but then a thought came to mind, finally cutting out her leader’s words. This thought though, it warped in new worries while also sparking a sliver of light within the darkness. After careful consideration, Tav lowered the crossbow, but maintained her hold on it.

Ulma threw out her arms in a gesture of exasperation. “By Selune’s name, what are you doing?”

“Listen,” Tav said, pinching her lip. “I…I think we can use him. He knows where his kind took the children. If we kill him now, we won’t have any leads to follow.”

A flicker of disdain crossed Ulma’s wrinkled features. “This is a risky proposition. . .”

Another member of the tribe, Gandrel, stepped in and said, “Tav makes a point. The spawn could be a viable asset in our search for the children. Not to mention, he’ll likely take us to their nest.”

Ulma contemplated, weighing in their options while the tribe mumbled amongst themselves. She glanced to each and every one of them. The moonlight emphasized their dirtied and bloodied faces. Gandrel, in particular, had just lost his children, yet stood with the most confidence in Tav’s resolve.

With a huff, Ulma finally said, “Very well, as he is the only key we have, we’ll keep him alive—for now.”

“Right,” Tav agreed and her green eyes lingered to the fallen vampire. “Let’s return him back to camp. I’ll deal with him when he wakes.”

The vampire, Astarion woke with a headache that seared into his skull. It took him a few moments to adjust, unable to offer himself much movement. A sturdy wooden pole restricted him that privilege, with ropes binding him and the bolt still embedded into his leg. He found himself within the dark confinement of a tent, a few candles flickered in all four corners of the rectangular space.

A sliver of sunlight slipped through the small slit of the tent, so close to touching the vampire that a weight of dread pressed into his chest. He fought against the restraints but the ropes seemingly tightened and dug more into his body. The pole pressed into his back; the unevenness of the wood pricked him. Worst of all, the bolt in his leg scorched him to the point he swore the sunlight already tore at his flesh.

A wave of panic sizzled when suddenly, a stream of sunlight blossomed outward as the tent’s flap billowed open. Astarion squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his legs closer to himself, though his injured leg ached all the more and he hissed at the oversight. Fortunately, at the very least, no ounce of sunlight touched him, but a new obstacle came into place.

“You’re awake. Good.”

A woman in her early thirties stood at the lip of the tent. Astarion recalled the Gur calling her Tav, a cute name he considered. She was short for her age, but the lack of sleep in her green eyes took away that spark of youthfulness. Tav was dressed in simple attire that provided her with agility, and a few scars marked her freckled features. Tav kept her long hair up in a messy bun, and loose strands framed her oval face.

Her hands grasped a crossbow, directing it at Astarion's chest. The bolt glistened in the shadows, and Astarion observed it with a cautious eye. A smile crossed his lips.

“My, aren’t you a feisty one,” Astarion said. “It’s a shame we couldn’t have met in better circumstances. Why don’t we get acquainted with one another before you add another bolt in me?”

“I will add another bolt if you don’t cooperate,” Tav spat. “Answer my questions, and I might go easy on you.”

“What a chilling threat,” Astarion remarked, his smile unwavering. “Ask away. I’m all pointy ears, darling.”

Chapter Text

Tav studied Astarion from head to toe, notably his smile in which it made its way to scorch her nerves. Her jaw clenched and her hands tightened around the crossbow to the point they transitioned to white. Astarion seemed to have noticed Tav’s frustration due to the fact that his smile widened.

Tav reeled in her rage as she breathed in and out to herself, reciting a prayer to calm down and avert her gaze from the vampire’s eyes and smile. They irked her more than it should and at one point she wanted to drive the bolt further into his leg. But she soon managed to restrain herself and gave herself another intake of breath. Tav then straightened her back, wishing she could appear taller than she normally was, but due to her short stature the privilege never came.

“Where did you and your kind take the children and why?” Tav finally asked, her crossbow still directed at the vampire.

“Why indeed? My master grew tired of feasting on the same mundane souls--he believed children would be a refreshing change,” Astarion said with nonchalance in his voice, though a hint of disgust lingered in his tone.

Tav’s stomach churned at the response, her hands clamming up from a mixture of revulsion and fear.

“Who’s your master?”

“Cazador Szarr.” The hint of disgust in Astarion’s tone came into full effect as his entire face contorted.

Tav’s eyebrow rose in question at the reaction. “Not too fond of your master, are you?”

Astarion erupted into a laugh, a sort of laugh that sounded both mocking and pained. “Darling, ‘not too fond’ is the understatement of two centuries.”

“What do you mean?” Tav asked.

Astarion clicked his tongue, tilting his head. “You certainly ask a lot of questions. Why don’t I give you some of my own so we balance each other out? Firstly, is it really necessary to point that weapon at me the entire time or do you simply yearn to appear stronger than you truly are?”

“Bold of you to say to the one who knocked you out twice last night.”

“My dear, if your companions didn’t come to your aid, I would’ve drained you dry in a heartbeat.”

“Unfortunately for you, I’m still standing,” Tav said. “You, on the other hand, will remain tied up until I get all of my answers.”

Astarion winced and shifted his attention to his leg. The bolt stood upright a few inches from the knee with a new trail of blood leaking out. “Could you at least relieve me of this little burden? It’s quite uncomfortable, the pain pulls me away from my concentration.”

Tav hesitated, gritting her teeth in frustration. Her eyes volleyed from Astarion’s pained expression, to the bolt and back at the vampire’s face. Astarion’s eyes softened, expressing a silent plea that somehow tugged at Tav’s heartstrings. She cursed herself for her emotions overpowering her rationality.

With a huff, Tav kneeled before the vampire, setting the crossbow besides her but still at the ready. She examined the position of the bolt and she stripped the fabric surrounding it to assess the damage of the wound. Old blood caked the area while new blood slithered amongst the pale skin. Tav used the discarded piece of fabric to wipe the blood away, clearing the area.

When she finished, she took hold of the bolt and breathed in. “This will hurt for a moment.”

Astarion chuckled. “This was already painful to begin with.”

“Right…” Tav muttered. “Just hold still.”

“I can’t really move to begin with either.”

Tav rolled her eyes, not towards the vampire’s responses but towards her own. But she brushed that aside and focused on the task at hand. She gripped the bolt with a steady hand, and, in one swift motion, she discarded it.

Astarion gritted his teeth as a sharp hiss spilled forth. He instinctively moved his legs away, but doing that only brought more blood to leak through.

“I said hold still,” Tav urged as she ripped off a piece of her sleeve and wrapped the cloth around the wound. “There…we have a cleric here that can heal your wound fully. For now, this is good for the time being.”

“Would you mind bringing her in now?” Astarion asked.

“I’m certain she wouldn’t be too fond of tending to the one who attacked my tribe right now.”

“I didn’t lay a finger on anyone last night.”

“But you assisted in kidnapping the children.”

“That’s true, but it wasn’t my idea,” Astarion noted and added bitterly, “It was Cazador’s orders--I had no say in it.”

Tav regarded Astarion’s words with curiosity. “None at all?”

Astarion scoffed. “You’re a monster hunter yet you know nothing of the monster you’re dealing with right now. Vampire spawns are slaves to their masters, they are obligated to do whatever they’re ordered to do. I had no choice, or rather--I never had a choice to begin with.”

“I’ve heard of spawns,” Tav said, “but I didn’t know they lacked free will.”

“Not entirely, I can still freely judge your craft.” Astarion smirked, gesturing to the crossbow Tav left on the ground. “You might want to pick that back up, it’s dangerous to be unarmed against a vampire—even if one is tied up.”

Tav bent down to retrieve the crossbow, but Astarion’s good leg darted forward, nudging the weapon from her reach and causing it to skitter across the tent floor.

“Ass,” Tav muttered.

“Close. It’s Astarion, my dear,” Astarion replied, attempting to form a bow but the ropes hindered his movement. “Your name is Tav, is it not?”

Tav ignored him as she stomped over to the crossbow and collected it.

“Is it short for something? Tavana? Tavatha? Tav--” Astarion was cut short when Tav aimed the crossbow directly at him. Once again, his smile never wavered, even amusement danced in his eyes.

“You’ll only be answering my questions--that’s it,” Tav warned, her fingers inching towards the trigger.

Astarion straightened his posture, or as much as he could, and leaned back into the post. His head tilted upwards as his eyes trained to the weapon. The smile finally vanished, replaced by a firm line across his pale face.

“If you truly want to know the whereabouts of the children, you have to help me out as well,” Astarion said. “My master won’t be thrilled learning that one of his spawns has gone missing--he’ll be sending my siblings to hunt me down, and I certainly do not want to return to them. Not to mention--they’ll attack your camp again, and this time, they won’t leave any survivors.”

Tav’s throat felt dry as she tried to swallow, finding herself taking a step back.

“I propose we depart at our earliest opportunity. However,” Astarion’s face hardened as his focus lay on the sunlight that penetrated the tent’s curtains. “I can’t leave when the sun’s out, unfortunately. On the other hand, it also means that my siblings won’t come again until nightfall. Still, waiting until then isn’t a viable option; we need a way for me to avoid sunlight.”

“Right.” Tav huffed, managing to swallow again. She collected her composure as she maintained her hold on the crossbow. “Or…we avoid that problem and leave you behind after you tell us where the children are.”

Astarion scoffed. “To think that the human wasn’t more inhumane than the vampire.”

Tav flinched as his words struck a chord.

“I’m afraid that simple plan of yours won’t work,” Astarion continued, “the children are imprisoned in a location that’s heavily guarded, and I alone know how to pass the security. With that said, if you truly want to discard your one chance to rescuing them, you best pray to the Gods that some miracle comes to you. Though, with how helpful those ‘divine beings’ are, I highly doubt they’d bother lifting a finger.”

Tav pinched her lip, grappling with Astarion’s words as she weighed her options. By the sharp tone in Astarion’s voice, and the cold gaze in his narrowed eyes, he clearly opted from deceiving her about the dangers of the children’s’ imprisonment.

Tav pushed back a few strands of hair, lifting her head upward where shadows flickered from the candlelight. She thought long and hard while Astarion sat with unwavering patience. Finally, Tav lowered the crossbow, but still had a secure hand on it.

“I know someone who might be able to help you walk in the sun,” Tav said, though wariness lingered in her voice. “He’s a wizard not too far from here.”

“A wizard?” Astarion’s eyebrows rose, less of curiosity and more out of annoyance.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Tav asked with a grimace.

“I don’t…” Astarion admitted, the annoyance drawn further in his eyes as they trailed to the dirty ground, but his expression soon softened. “But I appreciate your decision to not leave me behind.”

“This is only for the children--nothing more,” Tav stated with firmness. “If you pull anything I--”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be at the mercy of your crossbow,” Astarion interjected. “I don’t need the reminder when said reminder is aimed at my heart.”

“You did mention I shouldn’t be unarmed with a vampire around,” Tav reminded, “even when one is tied up.”

“That’s true,” Astarion acknowledged, a touch of amusement in his voice. “Speaking of, would you be a dear and loosen the ropes a little? They’re quite uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t want your savior to be in bad shape.”

Tav scoffed in disbelief that the vampire would call himself a savior. She recalled many monsters speak highly of themselves, but that comment surpassed every single one of them.

Tav turned on her heel to face the tent’s exit, but before she took another step forward, Astarion said, “I’m not in favor of your kind either.”

“I figured as much,” Tav said, reaching to unfold one of the tent’s flaps.

“I have a bit of a personal history with the Gur,” Astarion added. “Before I turned into a vampire, I was a magistrate in Baldur’s Gate. A ruling I made upset a certain group of Gur, and they beat me within an inch of my life. I hope in this little adventure of ours, your group doesn’t do the same if I’m not being cooperative enough.”

Tav paused, and the weight of her weapon felt heavier. Astarion presented a look that seemed almost pleading, but Tav wondered if it was a manipulation tactic. Still, a bundle of guilt wrought itself in Tav’s chest and she found herself returning to Astarion’s side and kneeling down.

With careful and steady hands, she undid a small portion of the rope so that Astarion could move more comfortably, but it wasn’t enough for him to break free. He still remained against the post with his hands bound behind his back.

Tav glanced at his eyes and his former pleas shifted to that of subtle gratitude. For a moment, Tav became lost in his gaze but she quickly turned away and rose back to her feet.

“I’ll see if the cleric can take care of your leg, I’ll return shortly,” Tav said.

“Do take your time, I’ll be right here."

Tav ignored the comment but before she departed, she glanced at the vampire to ensure that the ropes still securely bound him, and she prayed to the Gods they did or she’d never forgive herself if Astarion escaped.

Tav then emerged from the tent, welcomed by the bright burst of the morning that coated everything in gold. Amidst the blinding hues, she caught sight of a familiar silhouette running up to her before the shadow dissolved into the form of Wyll. With his face etched with concern, he extended a fidgety hand.

“Tav, what happened in there? Did he tell you where the children are?” Wyll asked abruptly, his words practically overlapping within a single breath.

“Not yet,” Tav answered, “but he warned us that his kind will be coming back for him and we need to leave before they attack us again. I need Shadowheart to heal his leg first so we can move out, where is she?”

Wyll pursed his lips. “I don’t think she would—”

“Just tell me where she is,” Tav interjected.

Wyll ran a hand over his head and gestured it to his left. A group of tents joined together in a semi-circle. The morning sunlight melted into the bright red fabric of the tents, and the voices of the many tribe members filtered out, blending into one great symphony.

Before Tav approached, Shadowheart emerged from one of the tents on her own accord. Exhaustion drenched her face in the form of circles under her eyes, and a paleness that chased the color from her face. Nevertheless, she carried herself with a graceful stride, and she smiled a genuine smile at her friends.

“Good morning,” Shadowheart greeted, but her smile loosely dropped. “Or perhaps ‘good’ isn’t exactly the most appropriate term to use in our situation. If you two are here to inform me that there’s a hot spring nearby, I would be most thankful.” Her attempt at humor was met with a weak chuckle, and she ran small circles over her temple as if relieving a headache.

“Unfortunately, no,” Wyll said, “though a dip in a hot spring does sound delightful.”

Tav couldn’t help but agree, she couldn’t recall the last time she had such a soothing experience.

“Then what is it?” Shadowheart asked, but then paused, eyeing Tav with a twinge of exasperation. "Don't tell me, this is about the spawn, isn't it?"

“Yes,” Tav didn’t hesitate to answer, “The other vampires will come looking for him, and we can’t afford to be slowed down by his injury. We need to move out as soon as possible.”

“Why can’t we just kill him after he tells us where the children are?” Shadowheart asked. “It will save us a hells of a lot of trouble.”

“Because we can’t save the children without Astarion’s involvement.”

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow, taken aback. “The spawn gave you his name?”

“It’s not like I asked for it,” Tav said, “and this is beside the point, what I’m saying is that in order to get into whatever place the children are locked up in—we need his help. Then after that…” Tav hesitated as her voice trailed in the end.

“We can’t let him go freely if that’s what you’re implying,” Shadowheart said. “But if you truly want his help, fine. However, if any of us are in any danger because of him—it’s on you.”

Tav nodded in understanding while Wyll placed a hand on her shoulder.

“This isn’t the only time we relied on an unexpected ally, Shadowheart,” Wyll noted. “Remember that one time that goblin helped us infiltrate her own stronghold?”

“Yes, certainly,” Shadowheart said, “but a vampire is much more dangerous than a measly little goblin.”

“True but, while this is indeed a risk, we would be in a deeper one if we don’t have someone from the inside guiding us,” Wyll said. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, the saying goes, but we’ll still keep a cautious eye on him.”

“Fine,” Shadowheart gave in with a huff, “but what of the sun? Even if I heal him, the spawn can’t just waltz his way down the road without burning up.”

“That’s why we’ll ask Gale to help,” Tav said, “he should have some kind of remedy for that.”

“Gale?” Wyll inquired. “I thought he returned to Waterdeep?”

“Not yet…at least, I hope not.” A hint of uncertainty wrought in Tav’s voice as she considered the possibility of misinformation.

“If he’s not around, there are other solutions,” Wyll said, and then he joked, “Perhaps we can just cover him in a blanket as we travel.”

“We do have a few spare cloaks he can use,” Tav noted. “That should be sufficient enough…for now.”

“If you’re sure,” Shadowheart said, though spoke in a way she wasn’t entirely convinced. Either way she took several paces forward and added, “Alright, let’s get this over with. Where’s he again?”

“Over there.” Tav led the two across camp before reaching Astarion’s tent.

Tav opened the flap and was greeted by Astarion’s smile that glowed from the minimal candle lighting.

“I see I have more than one healer to my rescue,” Astarion joked.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes while Wyll frowned slightly, but there was a hint of amusement in his features as his lips twitched.

Shadowheart then dipped to her knees, examining Astarion’s wound before hovering her hands above it. As she murmured an incantation, a green glow sprouted from her hands and flowed onto the wound. In mere seconds, the wound disappeared and she removed the bandage.

Astarion flexed his leg with ease and tucked it back beneath him. He then turned to Tav and asked, “Might I ask for one more tiny favor?”

Not bothering to hide her annoyance, Tav asked, “What is it?”

“I’m rather famished, and I need my energy if we were to journey out,” Astarion said. “Would any of you mind getting me a squirrel or a rabbit for me to feast on?”

Tav, Wyll and Shadowheart exchanged looks before Tav said, “You two get him something, I’ll keep watch. Also, find Ulma and tell her the tribe needs to pack up and leave as soon as possible.”

“Alright,” Wyll said while Shadowheart remained silent and the two went on their way. Tav anticipated that they would likely debate her impulsive decision. Ulma in particular would be furious, and it was too early to face her fury.

Astarion flexed his leg once more, but didn’t initiate further movement. “I hope that neither of them winds up handing me a rat—I’ve had too many of those.”

“Why did you eat rats?” Tav asked out of curiosity.

“Master’s orders—per usual.”

“I see…” Tav trailed, her eyebrows knitted together. “Mind telling me more about him, or at least where he’s located?”

Astarion leaned back against the post, looking contemplative as if deciding what information to share before settling on, “He’s in the Upper City of Baldur’s Gate, housed in his gaudy crimson palace. It’s hard to miss due to its atrocious decor.”

“I believe I’ve seen it a few times,” Tav noted. “For some reason it never crossed my mind that the ancient building decked with gargoyles and other creepy statues was home to a vampire.”

“And you call yourself a monster hunter.”

“You don’t seem to be much of an expert in your craft either with you getting captured so easily and all,” Tav countered.

“Why don’t you free me from this post and I’ll show you who’s the real expert here,” Astarion taunted, revealing his fangs that glittered in the candlelight.

Tav found herself receding a step as her heart rate skyrocketed.

“That won’t be necessary,” Tav remarked, gulping on the little saliva that remained. She desperately needed water to quench her dried throat.

“Of course, darling,” Astarion said. “Besides, I’d rather not quarrel. We are companions in this journey, after all. We need to have each other’s backs--not stab them.”

“Fine by me,” Tav said, crossing her arms and shifting her balance from one leg to another. While her apprehension scattered away, a lingering wariness latched to her throat.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Astarion said, his tone lightening as his fangs vanished. “I can’t wait to see where this all takes us.”

Chapter Text

Tav’s hands moved with practiced efficiency as she bound Astarion’s hands, the ropes dug into his skin as she secured its hold. Astarion flinched at the tightness, and realizing that she might’ve strained the hands too much, she loosened the grip.

After that, Tav wrapped a thick, blue cloak around Astarion’s shoulders and pulled over the hood. The cloak shielded every inch of Astarion’s skin, but in the back of Tav’s head she worried it wasn’t good enough. She frowned, dismissing the thought as she slid a foot back and examined him.

“Is everything alright, darling?” Astarion asked.

“Don’t call me that,” Tav remarked with bitterness, cupping her chin and clicking her tongue. “Actually, I don’t want you to be talking unless I’m asking you a question.”

A sly smile crossed Astarion’s pale face, and amusement danced upon his features. “What are you going to do, tighten my bonds? You didn’t appear too pleased with yourself when you did that.”

“Shut it,” Tav spat, and with a gentle push, she nudged Astarion out of the dark tent and into the sunlight. Astarion bowed his head, avoiding the rays from touching his face but the long hood of the cloak protected him well. 

Satisfied at her handiwork, Tav released a breath she held on for far too long. However, her concerns resurfaced as she met the tensed gazes of the tribe, particularly Ulma who stomped right over.

With her hands on her hips, she leered at Astarion who stood his ground with a casual air. He even kept up a smile that only drew more anger from the tribe’s leader.

“Astarion,” Ulma's voice carried a sharp edge, “you may have convinced Tav and some others that you're worth the risk, but don't think for a moment that we’ll take your company lightly.”

Astarion's smile didn't falter. If anything, it widened. “My dear, I fully understand and will be sure that I’m on my best behavior.”

Ulma's jaw clenched and she held her head up high. “Mark my words, spawn, one wrong move, even if it’s small, we will stake you right where you stand and you won’t even realize it until darkness consumes you.”

Astarion kept up his smile, though Tav spotted a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. A sense of uneasiness pressed to Tav’s chest but she took in a breath and cleared her throat.

“I’ve already made that clear to him,” Tav said.

“A reminder is just as sufficient,” Ulma stressed and stormed off. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Returning her attention to Astarion, Tav met his gaze, once more searching for any hint of deception upon his cheery face. But all she gathered was that smirk that never ceased.

“Well, you heard her,” Astarion said, “let’s get a move on. You want to save the children as fast as possible, don’t you?”

Tav refused to say anything as she nudged him forward. Astarion chuckled in return, but he pressed his lips together while amusement still carried on in his features.

As the tribe moved out into the forest with Ulma at the forefront, a majority of the tribe clustered around Astarion, ensuring he stayed within the circle and didn’t have any opportunity to escape. Tav stayed the closest to him, her eyes fixed on him like a hawk.

Astarion licked his lips. “You really can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?” he practically purred the statement and Tav felt a wave of heat surge through her cheeks.

“You know why I can’t,” Tav grumbled.

“Darling, I am practically suffocating with all your people clustered around me like this,” Astarion said. “I can’t stick my hand out without it ramming it into someone’s ass.”

Shadowheart, who was in close proximity, moved a safe distance away. “I’d rather not have any part of you touching me, thank you.”

“You’re lucky that my hands are bound either way,” Astarion said. “Besides, I know better not to cross anyone here.”

“Then why don’t you do us all a favor and stay quiet?” Tav asked.

“My dear, I know that you enjoy my quips,” Astarion hummed, “if you didn’t, you would’ve put a gag on me by now.”

Tav inhaled sharply, ready to retort but a sudden halt in Ulma’s tracks suddenly brought everyone to pause with her.

“Shh!” Ulma stressed, pressing a finger to her lips.

As the group fell into an uneasy silence, tension hung heavy in the air like a thick fog. Tav shot a warning glance at Astarion, silently urging him to comply with Ulma’s demand.

Astarion shrugged, but he complied nonetheless, still amused as ever which only brought Tav’s nerves to twist and tighten in unbreakable knots. She yearned to ram a fist in that ridiculously pretty face of his but she restrained herself and focused on their surroundings.

The forest seemed to hold its breath along with them. The only sounds were the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional songs of birds singing with the wind. Tav’s nose twitched when the wind swept across her nose, forcing her to sneeze.

The sound ricocheted from one tree to another, culminating with a snort from Astarion.

“And you thought I was being obnoxious. Your sneeze sounded like a fox’s bark,” Astarion remarked with a chuckle.

Tav shot Astarion a glare.

“A cute fox, mind you,” Astarion added, but that didn’t change Tav's disdain. 

“I really am considering putting a gag around your mouth,” Tav threatened.

“Shhh!” Ulma’s sharp command sliced through the air like a blade, silencing even the rustle of leaves underfoot, and even the birds. Her steely gaze bore into Tav and Astarion, particularly the former who recoiled.

Ulma held their gaze for a moment longer before nodding curtly, signaling for them to continue forward. The group did so, resuming their journey through the dense forest that darkened the further they carried on. No inklings of any danger came to them, only false alarms. Regardless, they all stayed in high alert, their eyes vigilant and hands at the ready upon their weapons.

A chill pierced through the air and Tav shuddered, her body caught off balance as it swayed but her composure returned to her.

Wyll rested a hand on Tav’s shoulder and he asked softly, “Are you alright?”

“Of course.” Tav flinched her shoulder away from Wyll’s touch.

Wyll’s brows furrowed with concern while Astarion’s chin lifted inquisitively as he leaned in, clearly intrigued by the interaction unfolding before him.

Tav snapped at him, “What?”

“Nothing, my little fox--”

“Little fox?” Tav echoed with disbelief.

“--Though I can’t help but ask, are you and Wyll together?”

Wyll coughed while Tav’s patience snapped like a taut rope. Without a second thought, she snatched Astarion’s cloak and yanked him away from the group. She dragged him into the shadowy recesses of the forest and pushed him up against a tree.

“Aha, so there really is something between you two,” Astarion chided, ignoring the ire brimming in Tav’s eyes.

“It was a long time ago, so I would appreciate it if you shut up,” Tav hissed through clenched teeth.

“Who broke whose heart first?” Astarion mused.

“I told you to shut up!”

Tav’s grip tightened on the fabric of Astarion’s cloak, her frustration reaching a new level as his taunts ignited a flame that refused to be extinguished. Before she could act on her impulse to silence him, a sudden howl pierced through the air, drawing their attention back to the group.

“Shit!” Tav snatched her crossbow that was strapped to her back, swinging it to her front and prepared to dash forward. However, a looming silhouette emerged from the darkness, taking the form of a werewolf with its mouth watering with saliva.

Tav stood there stunned for a moment, but pushed herself to act as she readied her weapon.

The werewolf lurched forward, swinging its claws in great flurries of silver. Tav dodged the attack, just when she shot the arrow into the beast’s shoulder. The werewolf howled in pain but ripped the bolt out as a spray of blood leaked in the air. Its pale eyes trained on Tav with insatiable hunger, but before it attempted another attack, Astarion jumped onto the beast’s back and wrung his bound hands around its throat.

“Got you, mangy mutt!” Astarion exclaimed with a laugh, but as the werewolf attempted to shake him off, Astarion’s hood flew off, exposing his head to the sunlight. A stream of gold filtered through the leaves, sizzling Astarion’s face. He hissed in response and the werewolf snatched his cloak and flung him off.

As Astarion collided into a tree, a deafening crack split the air as the massive trunk broke in two. A shower of leaves and branches crumbled on Astarion as he attempted to get up in his dazed state. Meanwhile, the werewolf stalked over with its feet crushing into the terrain.

“Move!” Tav shouted, aiming her crossbow at the werewolf, never minding how quickly her heart raced as she focused on her aim.
The werewolf turned its attention to her and dashed towards her in sharp streaks of grays and blacks. A surge of adrenaline rippled through Tav’s body as she observed the creature’s quick movements, but finally she fired and the bolt rammed into its eye.

The werewolf screeched in a way that it rippled Tav’s bones. A cold sweat broke out of her skin, but she pushed her fears aside as a new surge of adrenaline ignited. While loading the new bolt, her senses sharpened, and her mind focused. She breathed in and out as she aimed her crossbow at the creature writhing in pain.

As Tav prepared to strike, a blur of white and blue flung into the air and struck the werewolf to the ground with a force that shook the earth. Tav stumbled in her balance and landed on her bottom. While scrambling to her feet, she observed Astarion grappling with the creature from behind. He used the now broken ropes to tighten it around the werewolf’s neck, and with a growl, sunk his fangs into its flesh.

The werewolf screeched as it flailed wildly, attempting to push Astarion off but the latter secured an iron grip. Astarion’s eyes glowed a haunting red as he drank his fill, and Tav observed with a sense of dread tingling her nerves.

When Astarion finished, he hopped off the now dead werewolf and licked his lips in satisfaction. The glow from his eyes vanished, but his features still had a spark that could even rival the strongest of the sun’s rays.

Tav’s fear flitted away, replaced by irritation as she stomped a foot forward. “That was my kill, you know.”

“Excuse me,” Astarion scoffed as he pressed a hand to his chest, “but if I didn’t come to your rescue, you would’ve been torn to shreds.”

“Rescue?” I had it under control!”

“Please, I know a damsel in distress when I see one,” Astarion mocked.

Tav almost laughed. “Oh yes, because I was the one who got thrown into a tree and would’ve been killed if the werewolf wasn’t distracted.”

Astarion’s lips curled into a forced smirk. “That is true, but let us not dwell on that, shall we? I would’ve taken down that monster much more smoothly if not for that blasted sun.”

“Ah, yes, of course you would.” Tav rolled her eyes, but didn’t want to admit to herself that Astarion’s words rang true. She turned on her heel to leave, but stopped short at Astarion’s next words.

“While you couldn’t have won this fight without help from yours truly, you fought admirably out there,” he remarked, his tone sincere for once. “I must admit, I’m impressed.”

Struck speechless, Tav’s cheeks flushed red as she stared at Astarion who averted his gaze.A blend of emotions tightened into a ball in the pit of Tav’s stomach. On one hand, she wanted to brush it off, but on the other she wanted to thank him for the compliment but her voice got caught in her throat.

Regardless, a shout in the distance turned their attention to where the tribe of Gur were, and Tav broke free from her stupor and dashed her way back to the others. Her heart pounded, synchronizing with her feet that crushed into fallen branches and leaves. Astarion followed close behind, but Tav barely took notice of him as her attention lay ahead.

Returning to the group, a strewn of werewolves lay dead on the ground as the bloodied forms of the Gur stood with the heat of battle still blazing in their eyes. One werewolf twitched as it attempted to rise, but Wyll plunged his rapier into its skull. With one last twitch, the creature fell back into the mud with a sharp splat.

Wyll’s nose scrunched in disgust as he ripped the rapier away, and then spotted Tav and Astarion as they approached.

“Ta--” Wyll’s voice fell short as he received a cold look from Tav. He cleared his throat in an awkward way before averting his gaze.

Meanwhile Ulma wiped blood off her bow as she shot daggers at Astarion. Her features hardened as she stomped over, never-minding stepping onto the werewolves bodies as she did so.

“Did you know about this?” Ulma barked.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at Ulma's accusation, his expression a mixture of amusement and indignation. "My dear, I assumed my sibilings would’ve been the ones stalking us, though I didn’t expect them to send werewolves. But what’s the problem? You all took care of them fairly well.” Astarion spread out his arms, gesturing at the massive carnage all around them.

Ulma’s wrinkly hand tightened around her bow. “You’re fortunate that none of us have gotten hurt, spawn.”

“Now there’s another positive in this,” Astarion praised, punctuating his words with a little clap, but the Gur remained unmoved. Astarion tossed his head back with an exaggerated huff. “Please, your kind fight monsters all the time--how is this any different?”

“Because every minute we have is a risk taken. Our children are our top priority and we can’t waste a moment protecting your life in order to protect theirs,” Ulma exclaimed, jabbing a finger to Astarion’s chest. She then turned on her heel and shouted: “We’re moving out, now!”

As the group pressed forward, tension ran thick in the air. The weight of Ulma's words hung heavily at every step the members made.

Astarion, surprisingly, managed to keep himself quiet for once. Tav couldn’t help but steal glances at him from time to time, her gaze lingering on the hood that covered a good portion of his face. Despite it all, she couldn’t shake a twinge of sympathy that settled in her chest. But as usual, she forced herself to stay focused, pushing aside any distractions.

As the day came to a close and the sun dipped beneath the trees, the group decided it was best to set up camp for the night. Their first priority was to ensure the camp’s safety, and that meant taking precautions with Astarion. Upon a hill next to the campsite, they found a sturdy tree where they bound him to it without any trouble.

Astarion’s compliance was perhaps fueled by the realization that any objection would likely result in a less comfortable situation for him. He assumed they’d stuff a gag in his mouth, and he certainly loved the sound of his own voice too much for that to happen.

Astarion observed the tribe as they gathered themselves around the campfire. The fire crackled to life beneath the moon, and the tents surrounded it in one massive circle. The warmth of the fire chased away the incoming cold, and found its way to Astarion, wrapping him gently as if a blanket embraced him. He leaned forward to catch more of the warmth, but the rope pushed him back, too far back that the tree’s bark scraped into his skin.

Astarion hissed but was too exhausted for his anger to get the best of him. They’d traversed the wilderness all day, barely taking a break, and the first time he finally sat down, they strapped him to a tree. The rough ropes bit into him, and the trunk scratched and scratched, ever itchy and needing to shift his body from time to time.

Astarion shut his eyes, focusing on meditating to relieve himself of this discomfort for a while. Resting his head back, he emptied his mind and only saw darkness. Though, every now and then he spotted flickers of the campfire sprouting within the nothingness. The warmth of the fire returned to him, and he sighed with a small sliver of contentment.

Just when Astarion prepared himself to dive deeper into meditation, the sounds of light footsteps ascending up the hill broke his concentration.

Tav approached, her arms crossed over her chest but more in a casual manner than that of an authoritarian. A bloodied bag was strapped to her hip.

Astarion’s face lit up. “Now what do I owe the pleasure of my darling little fox?”

Tav’s nose scrunched at the nickname but she didn’t retort. Instead, she reached into the bag and brought out a dead rabbit.

“Thought you might be hungry,” Tav said with nonchalance, though Astarion swore he caught a hint of care somewhere hidden in her tone. 

“My, how generous of you." 

Tav placed the rabbit on the ground momentarily so she could unbind the ropes. When they became undone, Astarion rolled his shoulders and flexed his wrists. He sighed as the stiffness of his body gradually ceased, though his back still itched from the tree’s rough bark.

Tav then handed Astarion the rabbit, and for a brief moment their fingers brushed over the other. Astarion didn’t realize how soft Tav’s fingers were despite the circumstances of her lifestyle.

While Astarion indulged in his meal, Tav sat across from him, folding her legs over the other in a criss-cross form. Astarion noted the tension in her posture and the way she avoided direct eye contact.

“Is something troubling you, my dear?”

Tav paused, and she glanced behind her as if she didn’t want anyone to listen in to the conversation. Astarion wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, and if it was it piqued his curiosity all the more.

Finally, Tav returned her attention to him, but spoke in a low voice: “I wanted to thank you…for what you said earlier to me after the fight.”

“Oh, now you want to thank me for rescuing you,” Astarion teased.

“No, that--”

“I appreciate your gratitude.” Astarion mocked a bow. “Anytime you need any assistance, your savior is always here.”

“You are not my--”

“Now, now, let’s not ruin such a precious bonding moment by arguing.”

Tav inhaled sharply and ran a hand through her hair, unintentionally plucking out strands from her already messy bun.

“I’m serious,” Tav remarked, her voice firm but then it softened as she continued: “What you said back there…it really meant a lot to me.”

Astarion’s playful facade gradually dissolved, revealing genuine warmth in his eyes and sincerity in his tone.

“You’re welcome.”

Chapter Text

A firefly fluttered in the dark before blinking away, and once it did so, Tav’s eyelids flew open, meeting the sun’s light as it slipped through the fabrics of her tent. Groggily, Tav lifted herself up and stretched her arms. She yawned while tossing her hair into a loose ponytail before dragging her feet out into the early morning. 

Tav rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes and yawned once more. When her eyesight adjusted, she realized she was the only one awake from her tribe, and so she wandered about the quiet campsite with a careful stride, avoiding waking anyone up. The sun had just risen, turning the once dark sky into a light pink and ivory hue. Puffy clouds scattered about, and the moon peeked on the other side, already eager to return.  

Tav took in the calmness of the morning for a moment, relaxing her shoulders and allowing the cool wind to tousle her hair. She smiled lightly, but it soon dropped when her attention went up to the sturdy tree on the hill. 

Her stomach dropped--Astarion wasn’t there. 

“Shit!” Tav dashed up the hill, stumbling as she made her way towards the tree. Astarion’s ropes lay strewn amongst the dewed grass, and a vague imprint of his body remained on the bark. Frantically, Tav surveyed the area as a ringing blared in her head. 

“Shit, shit, shit, where the fuck did you go?” Tav stressed, pinching her lower lip. Many thoughts ran through her mind. Did he run off? Was he taken? He couldn’t have gone far, the sun had just risen. 

In haste, Tav descended the hill and broke into the forest. Her legs carried her with great speed as she sprinted over fallen logs and stomped through bushes. Branches swiped at her face as she bypassed trees, and squirrels scattered away when Tav crossed their path. Tav then hopped over a flowing stream until she caught sight of a familiar silhouette hidden beneath the shade. 

“Astarion!” Tav called out. 

Astarion’s head perked up, even his ears did so at the acknowledgement. “Ah, good morning. I apologize for running off, the sun was being quite the bother. Next time, why don’t your crew choose a shadier place to camp?"  

Tav huffed, catching her breath as a wave of relief fell over her. Her knees even quaked and she gave herself time to relax by sitting at the base of a tree. 

“Did I worry you, my dear?” Astarion mused with amusement clearly evident in his voice. 

“No,” Tav spat, “I didn’t want you to run off.” 

“Darling, I’m hurt.” Astarion released a small but exaggerated gasp. “After all the fun we’ve had so far, why would I ever leave your wonderful company?” 

Tav rolled her eyes, but then her disdain turned to mild concern upon a burn on Astarion’s hand. 

Astarion followed her gaze and he lifted his hand, giving it a limp wave. “Ah, yes, I woke up to the smell of my own flesh cooking--not exactly the most pleasant thing to wake up to, but I’ve had worse.” 

“Let me see.” Tav took Astarion’s hand in hers and he flinched at the touch. Her stomach twisted at the deep blister that ripened a striking red. 

“It’s nothing,” Astarion said with nonchalance as he pulled his hand away. 

“Wait until it gets infected,” Tav noted with bitterness. “Follow me and keep your head low.” 

Tav guided Astarion along the winding path until they reached the flowing stream. The stream curved about like a silver snake, splashing over polished rock and ducking beneath logs. Tav knelt at the stream’s shore, spotting a couple of fishes darting by. She then tore off a handful of fabric from her tunic and dipped it into the stream. Water soaked the fabric until it darkened to a midnight blue color. She then returned to Astarion and gently patted the damped cloth over the burn. Astarion hissed, his fangs peeking from his lips. Soon enough he relaxed, welcoming the cool touch with a sigh. 

The burn faded to a subdued hue, but Tav still applied pressure until she felt satisfied enough. She then withdrew the cloth and wiped away any traces of water that trailed off too far. Tav glanced at Astarion whose features softened with gratitude, A touch of pink brushed over Tav's cheeks. 

Tav cleared her throat, dropping her gaze. “Shadowheart should be able to take better care of it.” 

Astarion smiled, his fingers wrapping around Tav’s, almost caressing them. “I think you’ve done a marvelous job, my darling fox.” 

The pink in Tav’s cheeks transitioned to a deep shade of red. She cleared her throat again and slid herself away from Astarion’s touch. “Stop calling me that--we need to get going before everyone wakes up.” 

Tav started off, her feet stomping upon fallen leaves. Despite her agitation, the fluttering in her heart wouldn’t cease and she cursed it inwardly. Neither did the redness in her cheeks fade away, and she ran hands through her hair, groaning. 

But then she stopped short, realizing they were about to walk into the open where there was no shade. Cursing once more, Tav glanced over her shoulder and said, “Wait here.” 

“Of course, darling,” Astarion said, 

Tav huffed. ‘Darling’, ‘little fox’ it had gotten excessive yet she still blushed and her heart still fluttered. She brushed aside those words as she made her way back to camp. 

Once she returned, Tav scanned the area, her eyes darting from tent to tent in search of the cloak. Finally, she spotted it hanging from a nearby tree branch, its deep blue fabric catching the morning light. With a quick tug, she yanked it free and tossed it around her arms. 

With the cloak billowing in the wind, Tav raced back to Astarion, but he wasn’t in the same spot she left him. Tossing back her head in annoyance, Tav stomped her way into the forest in search of Astarion once more, but she didn’t wander far. 

There, crouched beneath the dark shade of a tree, Astarion huddled himself and whimpered between pants. He held his hands together, in which a glowing red chain bound them in a twist. The glow pulsated, as if it was a living entity, and voices whispered indistinguishable words that only brought Astarion’s whimpers to heighten. 

“Astarion?” Tav knelt to him, but recoiled when she met a pair of glowing red eyes and a snarling mouth. 

Astarion’s hand darted forward, missing Tav by a hair as she retreated. Her back made contact to a tree and she watched with wariness as Astarion stalked over, his eyes trained on her like a wild animal’s. 

Tav gulped, her hands searching for something, anything to defend herself with. She ripped off a branch and aimed the sharpest point at the prowling vampire. 

“Astarion?” Tav called again, and this time her voice reached him. Astarion halted in his tracks, but his eyes still glowed. 

“It’s…it’s not me,” Astarion strained, forcing his legs to retreat. His chest heaved, even talking took an immense amount of effort. “It’s Cazador. He’s controlling--gah!” Astarion dropped to his knees, clawing his hands into the ground as his body began to spasm. The red chains that gripped him ignited, akin to flames ready to burst. 

Tav stood there paralyzed, speechless and numb as she watched Astarion writhe in pain. His eyes then darted to hers with sheer desperation, practically pleading for her help but Tav only flinched, as if a shard of glass pierced her heart. The voices from before grew louder and fierce, but Astarion’s own voice drowned them out as he shouted, his cries ringing in the air. 

He slammed a fist down as the binding snapped one by one like threads from a spider web. Astarion’s body slumped to the forest floor, shaking as if a heavy chill descended upon the area. Astarion huddled himself, panting while the brightness of his eyes dimmed to its usual cool red. 

Tav came to his side, draping the cloak around his shoulders and Astarion grasped it to the point his knuckles transitioned to a whiter shade. He huddled the cloak like a blanket, squeezing it into himself. 

“Are you…alright?” Tav asked with hesitance. 

“...For now,” Astarion strained, his breathing labored. 

Tav reached out a tentative hand towards Astarion’s quivering back. She faltered for a moment, but ended up resting her hand on him and rubbed small circles. 

Astarion’s breathing ebbed and flowed at irregular rhythms. At times it sounded like he wanted to say something, but he ended up just catching his breath while his body rocked from side to side. Tav stayed close to him, rubbing circles and grappling with whether she should speak or allow the silence to be enough. 

“Tav!” a familiar voice called in the close distance, and Tav turned to find Wyll rushing in, hand pressed to his chest as he collected himself. “I heard a shout, what was--” His eyes then trailed to Astarion and his brows knitted together in confusion. “What happened?” 

Tav faltered and glanced at Astarion--his eyes clouded with remnants of pain. 

“Someone was controlling him,” Tav said. “We need to get back to camp, maybe Shadowheart can help.” 

“No.” Astarion shook his head. “Cazador’s influence is too strong. Nothing can be done unless he’s dead.” 

Astarion then steadily rose to his feet, his legs shook as he struggled to find his balance. He advanced forward, stumbled, but Tav placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. 

“We’re almost near Gale’s,” Tav said, “he should know something, maybe he even has a book that can help you resist.” 

Wyll frowned slightly. “I don’t believe that Gale is an expert on vampirism, but he always does provide helpful knowledge. How much farther do we have?” 

“We should be there by this afternoon,” Tav said, but then paused as a looming shadow passed overhead. She glanced at the sky, dark gray clouds moved in to block out the sun. 

“Looks like a storm might be approaching,” Wyll said. 

“If that’s the case, we should leave now before the rain starts,” Tav suggested. “We can’t wait for Ulma and the others, they’ll just have to catch up to us later.”

Wyll glanced briefly to the campsite beyond the trees, his features unreadable to Tav. “I doubt that Ulma would be too thrilled of Astarion being out of her sight for too long--” 

“And I’m not too thrilled of her holding us back,” Tav argued. “Let them know we’re leaving and we’ll meet up at Gale’s.” 

Wyll huffed but eventually relented, “Alright.” 

At first, the rain fell as a gentle drizzle, but swiftly escalated into a torrential downpour. The trio quickened their pace through the forest, the urgency palpable in their movements as they sought for shelter. 

With every step, the forest darkened and their visions clouded by the sharp streaks of silver showering at every corner. Tav cursed, searching for a way out of this cascade of icy needles. She huddled her cloak close to her and glanced at Astarion and Wyll with certainty that neither lost one another. Through the cascade, they ventured forth until finding a rocky outcrop nestled against the side of a steep hill. 

“Over there!” Tav sounded, her voice nearly drowned out by the rain as she struck her finger forward. Tav guided the two into the shelter, and once they entered, they slumped into the cavern floor with their backs against the curvature walls. 

They’d been trekking the forest for what seemed like hours, Tav was certain the relentless rain led them astray from the right path. Exhaustion took a toll on Tav as her eyelids weighed heavy on her. Before their departure, she instructed Wyll to retrieve her weapon, and she now clutched the crossbow tightly even as sleep threatened to overtake her. 

Tav glanced outside where the rain prolonged its malice. It slammed into the cavern’s roof with merciless intent--no chance of ceasing. The constant slamming drove into Tav’s head, forming a headache. She rubbed her temple and turned her attention to Wyll and Astarion. 

Wyll had already succumbed to sleep, his form limp against the cavern walls. Astarion, however, fought to keep his eyes open, his struggles mirroring her own. 

“You should rest,” Tav murmured, her voice barely audible over the heavy rain. But before she received any answers, exhaustion claimed her, and she sank into sleep. 

Within the realm of dreams, Tav found herself surrounded by shimmering mists that encircled her body, giving her the appearance of a fox. She pranced about the dreamscape that had neither a beginning nor end, just an endless flourish of colors that drifted in waves and blurred together. 

Amidst the swirling mists, Tav caught sight of a white cat with red eyes. Curious, Tav lingered over but once the cat acknowledged her presence, he darted off. Tav chased after the cat, but he ran with a speed that overpowered her own. Regardless, Tav ran and ran within the endless sea of color, yearning to discover the cat’s destination. 

During the chase, fireflies flickered into existence, glowing with various shades of yellows and greens that bounced and danced around the running figures. Tav glanced at the fireflies with wonder, her eyes sparkling as if capturing their essence within. A sense of joy flowed within her, and soon enough, she found herself running faster than ever before. 

But just as she closed in on the white cat--she awakened. 

Tav stared at the darkened ceiling of the cavern. The rain still fell when day transitioned to night, but it subdued to merely a drizzle. As Tav adjusted back to reality, she found Wyll still sleeping in the same position she saw him hours ago. 

Astarion, however, wasn’t around, and Tav shot to her feet. 

“Shit, where now?” Tav muttered as a surge of panic gripped her. She stepped outside where moonlight bounced danced over the treetops, and the remnants of rain splashed in currents of silver. Tav surveyed the area, the panic in her stomach flew to her throat, latching on as if an invisible hand wrung it. 

Without further delay, Tav collected her crossbow and ventured into the forest. 

Astarion watched as Tav drifted to sleep. He yearned to rest as well, but something within him twisted and turned as if his body refused to give him that privilege. His muscles stiffened and his back burned as if fire spread along him. A guttural growl crawled from Astarion’s throat and his eyes glowed red. He squeezed them shut, waiting for the sensation to pass. 

But the next thing he knew when he opened his eyes, he had his claws at Tav’s throat--ready to rip it out. His fingers twitched as he felt Tav’s delicate pulse. Her skin was so soft against his own, and she was so far in sleep to realize his presence. One little rip and it was over. 

Realization hit him like a sharp sting, and Astarion gritted his teeth as he fought against Cazador’s control. His eyes flickered from its piercing glow to its dimmed shine, and his free hand shook until he clenched it. He dug his nails into his palm, drawing a sliver of blood. The pain jolted Astarion, anchoring him back into full control as he scrambled away from Tav’s sleeping form. 

Astarion stared at his trembling hands, watching as the blood slithered to his forearm. He then brought his attention to Tav, still oblivious upon her deep slumber. Astarion swallowed hard, his throat dry and scorching. A hunger stirred within him, but he restrained himself and pushed himself back until he was up to the opposite wall. His eyes then strained to the outside where the rain still fell, and with another heavy gulp, Astarion fled into the dark forest.

As Astarion ran further and further into the forest’s depths, the rain began to ease up, but the storm inside his mind raged on. He heard Cazador whispering to him, taunting him, urging him to turn back and give into temptations. But with a surge of willpower, Astarion resisted and kept running despite how much his back burnt. It burnt so much he yearned to claw his skin off. 

Eventually, Astarion made it into a small clearing where he collapsed to his knees. He huddled himself, shutting his eyes and chasing away the words that haunted him. The few raindrops left landed on his scrunched form, prickling his skin like needles. 

Astarion stayed there in his hunched position until footsteps sounded behind him. Perking his head over his shoulder, Astarion shuddered as the familiar form of his ‘brother’ Petras emerged from the shadows. His cocky smile was emphasized by the sliver of moonlight bleeding from the clouds. He sauntered over to Astarion with a light spring in his step.

“Why hello, dear brother,” Petras said. “We were concerned we had lost you, thought you might’ve met your end.”

Astarion scoffed, rising to his feet, brushing dirt from his pants as he said, “You underestimate me, Petras. I don’t go down that easily, especially against these mere hunters.” 

“Of course, of course.” Petras nodded. “Now, why don’t we return to the Master? He misses you terribly.” 

Astarion’s mouth twitched, sliding a foot back. “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you. I’m occupied with a more pressing matter at the moment-- Master will have to wait.” 

Petras grimaced, his face shrouded in shadows as the clouds hid the moon. “You realize that Master isn’t a patient man, he needs you back, you can’t just walk away from him.” 

“Oh I’m fully aware of that. That’s why I’m finding a way to rip from his chains.” 

Petra broke into a haughty laugh, clutching his stomach. “Always with the jokes, brother, but we must depart.” Petras advanced forward, offering his hand but Astarion slapped it away. 

“No,” Astarion retorted with a deep growl. 

Petras clicked his tongue with disapproval, the sound echoing in the night air. He then brandished a dagger from his belt and twirled it between his fingers. As Petras juggled the knife from one hand to another, he concluded the display by provocatively licking its tip. “Well,” he sneered, “Master did mention that returning you with your innards intact wasn’t a priority.” 

Astarion cracked his knuckles and crouched, ready to pounce while Petras mirrored his stance.  Petras’s smirk widened as a spark of anticipation flashed upon his pale features. He flipped the knife once more, catching it underhand. Petras cocked his head, licked his lips, revealed his fangs and--

Thud

Astarion stumbled, his eyes widened, his breath hitched. Petras collapsed as a silver bolt struck his skull and plunged him to the ground in one fleeting motion. A pool of blood spread, flowing and painting the grass a deep, deep red. 

Slowly turning, Astarion spotted Tav emerging from the trees, armed with her crossbow. Sweat and rain blended into her face, creating a shimmering veil that glistened against the moonlight as it broke free from the clouds. The rain finally ceased. 

Astarion returned his attention to Petras whose eyes nearly bulged from the sockets. His body twitched a couple of times, and then death welcomed him back to its embrace. Astarion crumbled to his knees, numbed to the impact of his legs hitting into the ground. With a sardonic chuckle, he envied his brother’s escape from their master’s chains.

Chapter Text

Silence enveloped the clearing, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. Astarion’s gaze remained fixed on Petras’s still features. He was perpetually trapped in his final moments of shock and anguish. The moonlight cast a pallid glow over Petras’s pale visage, accentuating the stark lines of pain etched on his face. Astarion had seen many expressions on his brother’s countenance--mockery, disdain, sick amusement---but never before had he witnessed such raw vulnerability.

Tav approached, her footsteps barely audible against the backdrop of nature's nocturnal symphony. Astarion, despite the quiet, sensed her presence behind him, and his shoulders subtly tensed in response.

"I don’t suppose you’ll grant me the same fate as my brother's when this is over?" Astarion mused, his voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and curiosity.

Tav halted in her tracks with a slight tremor in her stance. She glanced down at the crossbow still gripped in her hands, its metal frame glinting faintly in the moonlight. Astarion observed it with a cautious eye.

“That’s a yes, then?”

Tav averted her gaze, a fleeting glimpse of guilt flickering across her features as she carefully placed the crossbow behind her back. She hesitated for a moment, then crossed over to where Petras’s lifeless form lay, sprawled in the dirt with the bolt still lodged in his head.

“That’s for Ulma to decide,” Tav responded finally, her voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to meet Astarion's gaze. A tightness lurked in her voice, and Astarion's eyebrows knitted together in a curious way.

“You don’t seem too fond of her decisions,” Astarion noted. “Is there conflict between the two of you?”

“It’s none of your business,” Tav replied, her words sharp and defensive. She straightened up, her jaw set stubbornly as she faced Astarion, the tension between them palpable in the stillness of the night.

“Of course…darling,” Astarion spoke as if he was unsure himself of whether to address Tav as such, though he didn’t back away or move a muscle as Tav decided to knelt beside him. The two sat in still silence for sometime until Tav spoke up,

“Was he your actual brother?”

“No,” Astarion said, “Cazador created a false family with the other spawn and I. My relationship with Petras was nothing but animosity, yet…I still pity him. He and my siblings didn’t deserve what that bastard’s done to us.”

Astarion’s shoulders squeezed together as his body hunched, shaking subtly. His head bowed, features hidden within his locks of silver hair. But then his ears perked when Tav rested a hand on his shoulder, and he lifted his head towards her.

“I’m sorry,” Tav said.

Astarion stared at Tav wordlessly, grateful for her words and even more so for her intervention. He felt what he assumed were tears but realized it began raining again. A light drizzle, cool but somewhat welcoming, as if it washed away his troubles--at least for the time being.

Astarion placed his hand over Tav’s, offering his own semblance of comfort though wasn’t sure himself if he had the capability to do so. Still, his fingers brushed over Tav’s, taking note of how warm they were in contrast to the chill of his own flesh. Gods, how he missed the warmth of being alive, yet he barely remembered his old life.

He recalled a time where, in a rare instance of community, his siblings joined together and conversed about their past lives. Petras, with his characteristic flair for the dramatic, had regaled them all with tales of his noble upbringing. He spoke of grandiose balls hosted by his family, of extravagant feasts, and of the countless women he danced with under the chandeliers that glittered like stars. Each detail painted a vivid picture of a life steeped in luxury and privilege.

Astarion’s other siblings chimed in with their own recollections, each story echoing a similar theme of comfort and happiness. They spoke of carefree days spent in opulent surroundings, of joyful laughter ringing through grand halls, and of bonds forged in a world untouched by the strings that now strung to them. In those fleeting moments, Astarion had glimpsed a past where they had all known a different kind of existence--where they had been alive in the truest sense of the word.

But when the conversation turned to him, Astarion found himself at a loss. He struggled to recall the specifics of his own life before his heart stopped beating forevermore. The memories were distant, faint and elusive. He remembered fragments of being a magistrate of Baldur’s Gate, overseeing court proceedings and dispensing justice with a detached sense of duty. Yet the most important details eluded him. The faces of his friends, his family, his own visage…they became lost to him--blurring into obscurity.

Astarion observed Tav’s face, noting the tiny details such as the freckles that dotted her nose and the bags under her eyes. A few scars marked her skin, subtle yet noticeable. They were not flaws but reminders of her strength and tenacity, adding to her allure in a way that defied conventional beauty. Hers was a face he didn’t want to forget.
Astarion then returned his attention to Petras, the pure anguish upon his face was one he wouldn’t forget either, but he wished he could at that instant.

“We should hide the body before my siblings find him,” Astarion suggested as he steadily rose to his feet. “Moreover, it’s preferable if they remain unaware of your involvement.”

“I can handle them just fine,” Tav said, reaching over her back to readjust her crossbow. She flexed her shoulders and a small crack emitted from them.

Astarion’s eyes narrowed in a way that brought Tav to pause. “If Petras knew you were in those bushes, you would’ve been drained dry in mere seconds. I can’t guarantee luck will be on your side if you faced them head-on.”

Tav shot to her feet, closing in the space between herself and Astarion. “I told you--I can handle them.”

Astarion’s gaze remained steady, unmoved by the flicker of frustration drawn on Tav’s contorted face. “I’d love to believe you, darling, but you don’t have the slightest idea what monsters they are--what monster Cazador is. You killed one of us and they will surely--” Astarion’s words faltered abruptly as a chilling howl tore through the night, freezing the air around them.

Astarion cursed under his breath as he heaved Petras’s body and slung him over his shoulder. The weight of the body hindered Astarion’s balance momentarily but a shot of adrenaline propelled him forward.

“We’re going--now,” Astarion urged as he crossed into the forest, too impatient to hear a response from Tav but glanced over her shoulder to ensure she followed--and she did with a quick stride.

Tav had her crossbow ready in hands as usual, but Astarion was on high alert regardless, his senses heightening as he surveyed the area with not one moment to pause. He gritted his teeth and his eyes volleyed from the swaying trees to the dark corners of the forest.

The howling persisted, drawing closer and closer while Astarion moved faster and faster. Tav struggled to keep up, but she neither complained or spoke a single word, only hastened breaths passed her lips.

As Astarion glanced back over his shoulder, a sudden tremor rocked the ground beneath them. Tav, caught off guard by the violent upheaval, stumbled over a protruding root hidden in the earth. Her knee slammed into the forest floor as she yelped.

“Ta--!” Astarion's voice was cut short as a primal roar tore through the air. Instinctively, he dropped low, narrowly avoiding the slashing claws of a monstrous form hurtling towards him. A werewolf, its fur matted and eyes wild with feral hunger, lunged with uncanny speed and precision. Astarion scrambled backwards, the creature's deadly claws grazing the air just inches from his face once more.

Tav fought to regain her footing, but her leg denied her the privilege as she remained pinned to the ground. Regardless, she aimed her crossbow at the werewolf, but its speed moved faster than her eyes, and the next thing she knew, the werewolf headed right for her.

Just when the werewolf's jaws readied to snap into her, a sudden blur of movement intercepted its path. A flash of steel sliced through the air, and the creature let out a guttural cry of pain as a blade drove into the creature’s side before ripping out, releasing a slew of blood.

Wyll, armed with his rapier, positioned himself between Tav and the werewolf. He stood steadfastly, his knees bent as he prepared for another attack. Meanwhile, Tav attempted to stand again, only to return sharply to the ground.

The werewolf recoiled, snarling in fury and pain as it assessed this new threat. Wyll didn't give it a chance to recover. With calculated precision, he lunged forward, delivering a series of swift strikes that drove the creature back into the trees.

As Wyll engaged with the werewolf, Astarion dipped into a dark corner to conceal Petras’s body. With limited time, Astarion dumped the body within the dense foliage, guaranteeing that every inch was covered by the surplus of greenery. In addition, Astarion tossed over copious amounts of dirt as his mind raced to find additional materials to further mask the discovery. He surveyed around and his attention flew over to Wyll as another cry from the werewolf rippled forth.

With a final, decisive blow, Wyll plunged his sword into the werewolf’s heart. The creature collapsed to the ground in a great heap. Wyll stood over it, chest heaving with exertion as he pressed a hand to it.

Astarion smirked at the hunter’s skill, but it shifted swiftly to a frown as said hunter helped Tav to her feet. An ache pressed into Astarion for some reason but he brushed it off as nothing.

“Are you alright?” Wyll asked.

“Yes,” Tav insisted, but flinched as she added weight to the injury. She cursed under her breath and Wyll guided her to a tree for her to sit under.

Tav adjusted herself, her injured leg nestled on a soft patch of grass. She unraveled the fabric of her pants leg, taken aback by the blossoming bruise across her knee. The vivid hues of black and purple stood out against her ivory skin.

Astarion hurried over, only realizing his haste when Wyll and Tav passed him odd looks. Astarion shifted his initial concern to alarm as he remarked, “We can’t be out in the open, we need to return to the cave.”

“Alright.” Wyll helped Tav up while Astarion warily watched, examining her leg before his attention went Petras’s resting place. The darkness shrouded the area, but a gnawing racked in the back of his mind at the prospect of discovery. Astarion found himself sinking his nails into his skin, drawing beads of blood. He dared not entertain thoughts of what Cazador might do if he learned what happened—or worse, if he already knew.

Chapter Text

Tav found herself standing in the heart of a grand chamber that seemed to defy the constraints of the present. The room was a symphony of architectural splendor, marrying the opulence of designs from various time periods.

Massive stone pillars rose high, their surfaces intricately carved with twisting vines, grotesque gargoyles, and delicate floral motifs that seemed to writhe and bloom under the flickering light of ornate chandeliers. The pillars supported vaulted ceilings that soared overhead, their heights stretched towards painted murals.

Between the pillars, expansive walls of polished marble gleamed softly in the ambient light, their surfaces adorned with elaborate tapestries depicting scenes of myth and legend. The tapestries hung like silent storytellers, their colors muted yet rich with the patina of age, weaving tales of heroes and villains, triumph and tragedy.

High above, stained glass windows stretched towards the heavens, their grandeur breathtaking in scope and detail. Each window was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, its panels depicting epic stories of battles and lost empires. The colors were vivid and deep, casting fragmented patterns of light across the chamber's floor.

The floor itself was a mosaic of polished tiles, arranged in intricate patterns that seemed to shift and dance with the play of light and shadow. Here and there, ancient rugs and velvet drapes softened the harshness of the tiles, their rich textures adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise imposing surroundings.

At one end of the chamber, a towering stained glass window dominated the space. Its panels were a kaleidoscope of colors—ruby reds, sapphire blues, emerald greens—that shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence. The scene depicted within was a tapestry of celestial beings and hellspawn locked in eternal conflict.

But amidst the mesmerizing beauty of her surroundings, a sense of dread gnawed at Tav's nerves. She felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a tightening of space that was almost imperceptible at first. The walls began to close in on her, groaning as if unseen monsters lurked within the very stone. Above her, the chandeliers swayed feebly, their glittering chains tugged by invisible hands.

The groans from the walls mingled with the pillars that struck into one another like dominoes. They seamlessly crashed into the floor, shattering into massive chunks. Tav's eyes darted frantically from one end of the moving chamber to another. Her heartbeat quickened with each cracked tile and straining beam underneath the weight of the intruding walls.

With nowhere else to flee, Tav retreated to the stained glass window behind her. In a surge of desperation, Tav slammed her fist into the glass, expecting it to shatter under the force of her fear-fueled blows. However, the window remained unyielding, the intricate tracery and elegant panes resisting her frantic assault. Ignoring the pain that shot through her hands, Tav pounded on the glass again and again, her heart racing faster with each passing second as the chamber shrunk around her.

Tav's breath came in ragged gasps as she redoubled her efforts. Tears stung her eyes, a mixture of fear and frustration threatening to overwhelm her as she continued to pound fruitlessly against the unbreakable barrier.

As the chamber tightened its grip, Tav's resolve hardened. With a final surge of strength, she drew back her fist and struck with all her might, channeling every ounce of determination into a single, decisive blow. The glass trembled, the intricate patterns shimmering. But despite her efforts, the stained glass window held firm. The walls continued to close in with relentless grit.

Just as Tav felt the walls pressing onto her body, a newfound surge of panic suffocated her in a way she never knew before. Her heart raced into overdrive, her lungs burned as they struggle to gather breath, her bones cracked and snapped and--

She jolted awake.

Tav found herself back in the comforting embrace of reality—the warmth of the cave, the soft glow of firelight, and the presence of Astarion nearby.

Astarion sat at the cave’s entrance, his back towards her. Tav hadn't realized she had fallen asleep, and judging by the incoming light breaking over the horizon, she had been out for several hours. The last thing she remembered before drifting off was Wyll informing them that he would search for Shadowheart. But he hadn’t returned yet.

As Tav shifted, she flinched, inadvertently moving her injured leg the wrong way. It rested on a small pile of leaves, arranged with some semblance of comfort. She frowned as an inkling of frustration rolled in, she could barely move but at least no danger had presented itself as they remained secure within the cave.

She glanced at Astarion whose features were hidden from her perspective. He sat casually against the cave with his head bowed slightly. Tav wondered if Astarion fell into a trance until his body shuffled away from the sun’s intruding light. He hissed when a sliver of gold touched his skin and he retreated back into the cave. Astarion’s ruby red eyes leered but then they softened upon acknowledging Tav’s presence.

“Good morning, my dear,” Astarion greeted, but then he paused, his brows knitted together. “Are you alright? You appear paler than I am.”

Tav hesitated, her mind swirling with fragments of the unsettling dream: the ominous groans of the walls, the window that refused to break. It left her short of breath, but she fought to compose herself.

“I’m fine—just a bad dream,” she managed, her voice somewhat strained, unable to hide her discomfort and Astarion easily noticed.

“Mind telling me about it?” Astarion asked.

“It’s nothing,” Tav argued.

Astarion pursed his lips, but decided not to dwell on it as he loosely shrugged and turned away. Though, by his stiff body language, Tav’s restrictiveness bothered him but he still abided by her words and returned his attention to the outside.

Tav adjusted herself, attempting to push back the dream while shutting her eyes, but the image of those looming walls came into full focus and her nerves tightened to a knot. With a sharp gasp,
Tav attempted to hoist herself up, her injured leg protesting with every movement. Ignoring the shooting pain, she struggled to stand, driven by urgency and the need to push past the lingering dread of her dream. But her efforts faltered, causing her to stumble.

Before Tav fell, a pair of pale arms encircled her, catching her and steadying her still. Tav found herself leaning into Astarion’s embrace, the coolness of his touch easing her in a gradual way.

"Easy now, darling," he said soothingly, "you shouldn't push yourself too hard. Let me help."

“I don’t need--” Tav paused, caught in Astarion’s gaze that expressed that of genuine concern. Those ruby red eyes, she hated to admit, unraveled something within her, something warm and reassuring but feared it would pull her in too deep--toss her away from the mission at hand, but the pain in her leg weighed her down all the more.

Tav huffed in defeat, allowing herself to relax as Astarion gently returned her to the cavern floor. Astarion ensured that her leg rested comfortably on the patch of grass, keeping an eye on it.

“You rest now,” Astarion insisted, his tone still calm, almost a whisper that flowed as well as the wind sneaking into the cave.

Despite the comfort of her surroundings, a sense of tension seized Tav as she said, “I don’t want to dream again.”

“It was that bad?” Astarion wondered. “Are you certain you don’t want to talk about it?”

Tav bit the inside of her mouth as she stared at the cavern ceiling. She spotted a spider crawling about, determining the best place to build her web. Tav watched, her eyes catching the spider’s every movement while avoiding Astarion’s question. His words lingered in her mind, patient and kind, yet she waited until Astarion moved to the entrance before she answered:

“I was trapped,” Tav answered, “I don’t know where but the walls were closing in and I couldn’t get out. I couldn't and...right now...I don’t know. It’s just…” Tav trailed, her mouth working on her next words as she suddenly felt the warmth of tears stinging her eyes. “I’m scared.”

Tav glanced at him, waiting for some snide remark or a chuckle to mock her words, but nothing of that sort happened. Instead, Astarion returned to Tav’s side with a tentative stride. Tav found that he either contemplated to say something or remain silent. Astarion went for the latter, but the need to talk lay evident in his eyes that struggled to find its way to Tav’s face. Astarion’s attention then went to the spider on the ceiling, and they silently watched as she built her web.