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tieflingtareon · 6 months

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My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 21 | Words: 5.5k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.

He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Despite Astarion's insistence on waiting until morning, he was gone before Tar'eon awoke. He wasn't sure what he was expecting.

He dragged himself out of bed, washed himself, and dressed for the coming adventure of the day. Shadowheart had insisted on going back more than once to the temple, so there was no question about whether or not she was coming. Karlach had insisted on coming too, if only to show support for Shadowheart's beliefs. Anything for the woman she loved.

Seeing as Astarion was nowhere to be found, he asked Gale if he wanted to join them, but he looked like he hadn't slept a wink.

"I'm afraid I may have to sit this one out, if you want me in tip top shape for the grand battle with Ketheric." His skin was a ghastly shade, the veins in his neck and his cheek looking a bruised colour.

"I see...If you'd feeling unwell, please, go see Isobel. She's a divine cleric." He insisted, but Gale waved his hand.

"No, no, I'll- I've had worse days. I assure you. It's simply my heart acting up." Tar'eon was about to protest when he heard another voice from behind.

"Karlach said you were looking for an extra hand, I'm geared up and ready to- Hells." Wyll looked at Gale with a pained expression. "You look ghastly."

"Why, thank you. Your horns are looking as lovely as ever, Wyll." Gale drawled and Wyll winced. He deserved that he supposed.

"I was just telling him to visit Isobel, but he won't." Tar'eon sighed.

"I-" Wyll pursed his lips, looking like he was considering his choices before he sighed. "I'll stay behind. I'll make sure he doesn't keel over while you're gone."

"Excuse me, I can take care of myself just fine. I've lived with this heart condition for years!"

"Well, don't go making your years shorter by not taking it easy." Wyll gave him a warning look before stepping around Tar'eon to place a hand on Gale's shoulder. "Go. I'll take care of this one. Worry about finding the relic. I'm sure Lae'zel would gladly join you, if you can find her."

"If I can find her?"

"I saw her walk out last night, and she did not return before I went to bed, which was fairly late. That's all I know. I doubt she'd gotten herself kidnapped or killed. If anyone dared, she would have returned with their head by now." Wyll said with certainty.

"Maybe she's training. She likes to do so at night. She says it's quieter. Easier to focus." Tar'eon frowned thoughtfully. "I'll see if I can find her."

"I hope you do. Come on." Wyll turned to Gale and ushered him up the stairs. "Back to bed with you. You were reading all night, weren't you?"

"Can you blame me? Imagine if I died before finishing one of my tomes? That would be my biggest regret." Gale chuckled wearily, leaning more on Wyll than he probably intended to, but the swordsman had the strength to keep him upright.

Tar'eon watched after them and frowned thoughtfully. He hoped those two worked out what ever was between them...having two pairs of lovers not speaking to each other would cause too much drama in their party. He sighed and went outside to find Lae'zel, and after walking the entire premise, he finally found her in a grouping of bushes far off to the left of the inn.

He was about to say something, considering her state of being half undressed, but anything he had planned to say was stolen when he saw a very large, very familiar figure come out of the bushes too. He stared, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was gaping at the pair as they spoke, Halsin all smiles despite Lae'zels curt words and mannerisms.

Now that he looked closer, she was definitely covered in claw marks. Gods. He had not seen those two coming. Though, if Lae'zel had wanted to sleep with Wyll, he supposed sleeping with Halsin wasn't a large leap to make. The druid certainly looked pleased after their night together.

Tar'eon slowly backed away and jumped when he bumped into someone, familiar icy fingers grasping his waist to steady him.

"Lae'zel of all people...I thought Halsin would prefer somebody less terrifying. Maybe someone more fluffy than scaly."

"I...I suppose." Tar'eon turned to look at Astarion, lips moving wordlessly for a moment. "I...About last night-"

"I've been waiting all morning for you lot to get your things together." He cut him off. "Hurry up. We have a relic to find. I want out of this dreary place before I decide to throw myself to the shadows."

Without giving him a moment to respond, the vampire walked off.

"I...okay." Tar'eon pulled his hair back and pursed his lips.

Find the relic. He would focus on the relic. Then, when they got back...he could finally sit Astarion down and tell him everything. The Urges, the fear, all of it.

Anything he wanted to know, he'd bare it all. His whole soul to the man who had his heart.

****

"Be careful." Tar'eon warned Shadowheart as she took another leap. She had been adamanent about completely the trials of Shar herself after they stumbled upon Lady Shar's spear. This trial was the last one, and Tar'eon stood back, anxious. Shadowheart was intelligent though, using her misty step for the final leap when she realised she would not make it.

She nabbed the last gem and turned back to them.

"I won't be able to make it back across. Meet me back at the Waypoint." Tar'eon nodded and watched her disappear in a flash of purple light.

"You heard the woman." Karlach grinned and smashed her fist to her palm, disappearing with a laugh. Tar'eon glanced at Astarion, who quirked a brow and vanished with a click of his fingers. Tar'eon sighed and followed suit. At the waypoint, Tar'eon did a quick head count.

Karlach was missing.

"Again?" He groaned and vanished to the waypoint outside, nabbing the stroppily walking tiefling before he reappeared with the group. "From now on, Karlach has to buddy with someone if we portal."

Astarion cackled as Karlach flushed.

"I'm not any good magic, alright? I can speak to animals and cast fireball, that's about it." She grumbled. Shadowheart chuckled.

"You're very useful in combat, Karlach."

"You think so?" Karlach smiled shyly, perking up instantly.

"Yes. Very. Come now. This might be my chance." Shadowheart had a shimmer in her eyes, like she couldn't contain her excitement. Finally being of service to her Lady, in her temple. She was more devoted than Tar'eon realised.

Sinking further into the depths of the temple, Tar'eon couldn't help but watch Astarion. He had said little to him since they left the inn. He wished the day would go faster so they could return and finally talk. He hated how quiet it was without Astarion's commentary. It felt wrong. He'd gotten so use to his interjections, his chuckles, the cadence in his voice.

Tar'eon shook his head. He need to focus. Focus on the mission. They had an important job to do. The sooner they killed Ketheric, the sooner the shadow curse would lift. The soon he could kill Cazador. Find Zevlor. Wyll's father. Mol. Get everybody to safety. This mission was a catalyst, a turning point. Whatever they found down here, it would change everything.

So he took a deep breath and put his heart aside. Right now, all he needed was his mind, and his body. It was easier to do then it had been in the beginning of their adventure. Perhaps he was growing detached to the horrors of heroism. Who knew?

As they stepped off the platform, he looked upon the altar and turned to Shadowheart, nodding for her to place the gemstones in their rightful places. They shone as they slipped into their places, and with a rumble, the door opened. He breathed out slowly before inhaling deep and continuing on. The air in the temple felt oppressive if he was honest. He did not feel the comfort Shadowheart felt here. As they continued deeper inside, Tar'eon noticed another sigil and placed his hand to it, the stone flashing a bright purple as it recognised his magic and accepted his passing. He stood back up and came to stand before the pool of water, looking at the statue of Shar with a tilt of his head.

"This must be the last step." Shadowheart spoke with trepidation, but reverence flooding her words as she knelt. "I need to pray. Only by Lady Shar's grace did we even make it this far."

Tar'eon did not kneel with her, but he stayed silent during her prayer out of respect. Karlach stepped forward hesitantly and bowed to the statue, looking unsure. From his knowledge, Karlach did not follow any deities either. Her willingness to accept Shar for Shadowheart's sake was endearing though.

The dark cleric gathered herself back up and stood tall. There was a feeling in the air, the knowledge that once they went forward, there was no going back. Whatever loose ends they had, they had to be forgotten. Tar'eon took another deep breath and waded into the cold water. Though it was a blasphemous thought, he found himself praying for Selune's grace, rather than Shar's, letting the water envelop him.

There was no going back. Once they had the relic, war would be but a long nights rest away.

****

He didn't know when he passed out, it was like a flicker of nothingness before he awoke again, coughing up water despite being bone dry. He looked back at his companions, and found they were all collecting themselves too, Astarion's eyes finally meeting his after so much avoidance. He looked worried for a moment, taking a step forward before they heard the voice above them.

"You did well - better than I would have credited you with. Now hurry along and bear witness to my masterpiece." Balthazar. Dammit, he'd forgotten about him completely. He should have known the man had his own motives, that he'd follow them in. He should have killed him earlier. They couldn't let him get the relic first.

He scrambled to his feet and had to take a moment to steady himself. He felt almost feather light, like the smallest push could send him flying away.

"Quickly. We can't let him beat us to it." Shadowheart said quickly, a scowl on her face as she ran after the man, but they faced a challenge when they reached the edge. Tar'eon looked over the ledge to the rock miles away. There was no way they could make that jump.

"We're stranded!" Karlach was shocked, eyes wide before she gritted her teeth, holding her axe tightly in hand. "I bet I could make it. If only to wipe that smug look off his face."

"This isn't our normal plane. It's the Shadowfell." Shadowheart noted. "I think we could just...go for it."

"Well I won't be volunteering to test that theory." Astarion remarked, looking sceptical of the leap.

"I guess it's times like this I'm supposed to be a leader." Tar'eon sighed and took a few steps back. He sucked in a deep breath.

"What're you doing?" Astarion looked at him in alarm.

"Taking a leap of faith." Tar'eons tail hit the ground like a whip, as if to kick him into gear, and he ran forward, trusting Shadowheart to be correct about the differing of realms physics.

"If he dies, I will kill you and your Goddess!" Astarion snarled at Shadowheart as he fell down, down, feet smashing into rock. It felt almost like he'd been floating. He turned back to the group and ushered them down.

"Threaten Lady Shar again, and feel her wrath." Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before following after Tar'eon. Astarion scoffed.

"They're both idiots." He remarked to Karlach who smirked.

"They think we're idiots, you pompous nob." She snorted and jumped, Astarion grumbling before he followed suit. After that, they made quick work of their leaps, each one leaving Astarion feeling a bit sick with nerves if he was honest. Shadowheart continued to recite prayers as they travelled, and he was half tempted to shove her off the path to shut her up. Tar'eons feet finally landed a few meters from Balthazar, his companions following suit, and he was shocked when he looked up to see...a woman? Bound by magic.

"Balthazar. Come to add more bars to my cage?"

Tar'eon didn't need to hear anymore if he was honest. He refused to let an obvious future ally rot in a cage. She hated Balthazar, and likely the Absolutes too. He didn't favour the idea of leaving anyone stuck in a prison. He was pretty sure this was their Nightsong. The one they were supposed to find. Ketheric's weakness.

He'd promised Isobel to find it, find her, and he had. Now, he would fight to free her, and the rest of the shadow lands, Balthazar's army be damned.

He may not be an expert magic user, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve, and he was happy to use all wide range attacks that he could muster up against Balthazar's goons. He thought Balthazar would be harder to beat, but he was just a dead man in a dead mans body. Putting him back in the grave was an easy feat, especially with Karlach's rage and Astarion at his back, Shadowheart to his right blazing through undead fiends with radiant magic.

They'd all sustained some injuries, nicks and cuts, bruises and some swelling, but by the time the hoard was diminished, it was blissfully quiet outside the storm that was the Shadowfell realm.

"Are you alright?" Tar'eon asked quickly to Astarion who had taken an arrow to the thigh, which he had snapped in the heat of the moment to attack back.

"I'm fine." He was panting, grimacing from the pain, but he looked past Tar'eon. "We can deal with it later." He insisted, nodded past him. Tar'eon turned around to face the Nightsong. Who Shadowheart was approaching with a hardened resolve. Shit. Tar'eon had almost forgotten Shadowheart's plans entirely...

"Balthazar has drawn his final rancid breath. A pity it was not my hand that brought it about. Instead, it was you." The Nightsong turned to face Shadowheart head on, contempt in her gaze. "You, who have come to seek the praise of your wicked goddess. You, who have come to drive a dagger through my heart." Her approach was halted by the cage, hands keeping her from straying from it's confines. How lonely it must have been, with only her own company. Tar'eon couldn't imagine survive such a fate. He couldn't imagine still having any hope. The Nightsong didn't seem to have any.

"Not a dagger - a spear. My Lady Shar's spear." There was a conviction in Shadowheart's voice that Tar'eon was not used to. He'd never heard her sound so fanatic yet hollow. This was the not girl he remembered saving from the pod. It was not the girl who adored night orchids and feared wolves above all else. "Her fate is mine to seal. Let me handle this."

This was a Dark Justiciar, a loyal, hollow follower, of Lady Shar, coming to fruition.

"The fate you seal is your own. To be a Dark Justiciar is to turn your heart from everything but loss. You will know no love, no joy - only servitude. Until of course your mistress inevitably discards you." Nightsong stared at Shadowheart, letting her words sink in. "And there is much she does not tell you - a terrible blood price that may extend beyond my own death."

Shadowheart bristled, eyes narrowing at the Nightsong. Tar'eon found himself wordless, unsure what to say to make her see reason. Because she had to see reason. What he do if she didn't? Could he really kill her, in order to save all the lives haunted by the shadows? By Ketheric?

Would he have to? Would she force his hand?

He looked to Nightsong, and he could tell she knew her fate was on a knifes edge. He had to dissuade her, somehow, he had to say something.

"Shadowheart-"

"Shadowheart, don't do this." Karlach stepped forward, eyes wide and fearful. Not for what Shadowheart may do to the Nightsong, but for the woman herself. For what this may do to Shadowheart.

"Please. You can't." To feel no love...no joy...If it was true, Karlach couldn't allow it. She'd been a slave to Zariel for ten, long years. If all Shadowheart would gain from this was a life of servitude - she couldn't let her do it. Not when she wanted Shadowheart to love more than anything. To smile, to laugh - all the good things. She wanted to keep the woman she knew, the woman she loved. She wanted to feel joy with her until the bitter end. To love and be loved until the heat of her engine consumed her completely.

"Don't?" Shadowheart turned to Karlach, shocked by her request. "This is my mistress' will - my life's purpose!" Anger made her voice raw, jagged around the edges. She settled Karlach with a steely gaze. "If I have to step over your corpse to fulfil what Lady Shar asks of me, so be it. Your choice."

Karlach staggered back, the hurt cutting deeper than she thought it would. She stared at Shadowheart in disbelief. Less than an hour ago, she'd been smiling at her, so fond and sweet. Where had she gone?

"I..." Karlach lowered her head. She didn't know to say. "This is wrong...but I can't fight you." She swallowed hard and glared at her. "Do what you must." It wasn't spoken with any kindness or acceptance. Her heart was breaking as it was to watch this.

"Well, well, well. What's that I sense? A spear intended for my heart. Empowered by your goddess, aye - empowered to kill the child of a god!" Nightsongs voice was hoarse as she spoke, and Tar'eon wondered how long it had been since she spoke to another. How much she had screamed in her cage. "Do you know what I am, little assassin? For I know you - a lost child, frightened by wolves in the dark."

"What did you say...?" Shadowhearts voice was nothing but a mere wisp of what it was prior.

"Much has been promised to you, hasn't it? But what has been taken from you? What do you know of your own heart - your own life?" She was getting under his skin. Beneath the cracks of her armour. Karlach could see it. "I sense more in you than you know."

"Whatever you think you know of me won't matter, once I become whom I'm meant to be."

"Don't do it. Don't kill her - she knows something about you. Spare her, and see what she has to say." Karlach pleaded, anything to make Shadowheart see reason.

"This is all I've worked, for all my life!" Shadowheart snapped, turning to the tiefling woman as the spear extended from his hand, glowing faintly. Just one strike would give her everything she'd ever asked for. Would repay her debts to Lady Shar. She would finally have it all. Her dreams would become reality. "Why on earth should I let it all be for nothing?"

"Because I love you!" Karlach's voice cracked, raw with the confession as her hand fell from her chest, trying to convince the cleric to look her in the eye. "And I can't watch you do this to yourself. I can't. It's wrong, and you know it. You're jeopardising everything we've been working for these past few weeks, for a goddess who will take everything you already have! You're risking so many lives...Risking any happiness you could have; no love, no joy? What about the life you could have?" The life we could have, she wanted to say.

She shook her head.

"Sometimes I think the only thing keeping us apart is your devotion to another woman." Karlach managed a strained laugh, but tears sprung up in her amber eyes, slipping down hot cheeks, trying to stifle them.

"Please. Please, don't do this. Don't let Loss consume your life...You don't have be lost anymore. I'll guide you wherever you need. I'm the brightest damn thing out here, in all these shadows. And this old torch isn't dying anytime soon, if I've got a say in it." She knocked against her chest, her iron heart, and smiled at Shadowheart, begging the woman to see reason. To see the heart, as mechanical as it was, that could give her so much more than Shar ever could.

"She's been locked down here for centuries. With nobody. She deserves to be free of her cage. And we're gonna need her, when the time comes to kill Ketheric. We have kill him. You know that, don't you?"

"She's all I've ever known." Shadowheart looked at the spear in her hand, the conflict in her eyes unable to be hidden. "All I've ever trusted. I can't...I can't turn my back on my Lady."

"Hells, I'll be your lady! I am. Know me, trust me, choose me, if you won't choose yourself. Choose to love, to feel joy, with me."

"I told you my dream. You told me you'd support me, that I deserved it, after everything I'd done in the name of Lady Shar." She tried to deflect, tried to keep herself rooted in her conviction. But it was waning. Her faith was crumbling, and it terrified her, to lose the only constant she'd ever had in her life.

"I support your happiness! This will not make you happy, Shadowheart. Working under a cruel hand, it doesn't make anybody happy. Even when you smile and try to push through the worst days, it won't make them better." Her voice broke, speaking from the deepest parts of the hurt that tarnished her soul. "It won't. Please."

Karlach reached her hand out to her, eyes begging her to take it.

"Let your Lady's final loss...be your blind devotion to her."

Shadowheart stared at the woman, looking more frightened that Tar'eon ever remembered her being. She was always so cool and collected...It felt like looking at her as a child again, the fear on her face as wolves closed in. She looked at the spear, holding it in both hands. Then, she closed her eyes, and in that moment, Tar'eon knew she had made her choice.

She gave a yell of defeat as she threw the spear into the chasm below, looking ready to cry as she watched it disappear, lost forever. Any chance of gaining her mistress' favour, of becoming a Dark Justiciar...it was gone. Her goddess would disown her. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to reconcile with her choices. She would not regret. She refused.

A warm hand graced her shoulder, and she turned to look up at Karlach, taking in the expression on her face. She looked...surprised. Like she hadn't expected Shadowheart to choose her. But she had.

She had chosen love, rather than loss.

"Shadow..." Karlach breathed, and she lunged at the woman, grabbing her by the collar of her armour and kissing her hard. She had thought about their night together endlessly, but she never let herself hope. She had been sucked into the delusion that she would gain her mistress' favour and serve her until the end of her time. That there would be no time to give Karlach all she deserved. She hadn't wanted to get her hopes up, not when Karlach was so damn kind.

Karlach wrapped her arms around the cleric and crushed her to her body, heart thrumming and her body growing hotter, but she didn't need to worry about it failing. Not yet.

The kiss broke with a sigh, Shadowhearts pale green eyes meeting fiery amber.

"You're going back to Avernus when this is all over, you hear me?"

"What?" Karlach pulled back with a frown, hurt flashing in her eyes. "I- I told you, I'm not going back-"

"You will." Shadowheart voice held no argument. "You will. And I will come with you. We're going to get your heart back, and you are not going to die on me, you hear me?" Despite her cold tone, her eyes were shiny and wet, her chin threatening to wobble.

"I gave up my everything for you. You promised me your heart." She placed her palm over her chest, the glowing iron heart so hot it burned, but Shadowheart still allowed it to hover. "I swear to you, we will get it back. You will live the life you deserve. And you will live it with me."

Karlach stared down at the cleric in wonder, her own eyes wet. She blinked them away, pulling Shadowheart in and holding her tight. Committing her to memory.

"I...I don't want to die yet. I never did. But I'm still scared. If I go, Zariel will try to take me back. I couldn't live like that again."

"You won't be alone." Shadowheart swore it like an oath. "You will guide me through the shadows, yes, but I will be the sacred flame that burns in your heart - it's ours now. It will never belong to Zariel again."

"Gods, you always know the right thing to say." Karlach laughed wetly, sniffing a little as she pulled back to look at Shadowheart. She loved her with the power of two hearts, and she filled both of them with ease. "I...I'll do it. Okay? If we make it out of this alive...I'll follow you anywhere. Even into the Hells."

Shadowheart smiled, eyes shining as she gently touched her cheek. She turned to the Nightsong, and the heavy truth of her choice weighted on her shoulders.

"Lady Shar will disown me...what will happened to me?"

"Not what will happen - what will you do. Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed." Tar'eon watched as the Nightsong knelt before Shadowheart. He looked to Astarion, who looked just as shocked as he was. He quirked a brow.

Did you know Karlach was dying? He wanted to ask. It would be a conversation for later. Why Karlach hadn't told him...He wasn't sure.

"Lay a hand on me in friendship, not-quite-Sharran, and I will fight the battle that had been waiting for me this last century. Then - oh then, we will have much to discuss." Shadowheart hesitated. To lay a hand of friendship onto a child of Selune...it would be the greatest slight against her goddess.

Though...she was no longer her goddess, was she? She was free to live her life as she saw fit. As terrifying of a prospect as that was. She placed a gentle hand to her shoulder, and then, she heard it. The music. The Nightsongs song. They all stepped back as they watched the magic pulsate from the circle that once kept her bound.

"Our Lady of Silver. Hear me! She Who Guides, the Moonmaiden Selune - Mother of the so called Nightsong, the Nightsong is no more!"

Tar'eon had to squint away from the harsh light as it grew brighter and brighter, but despite that, there was a flourishing feeling of peace that came over him. When he looked back to the light, he thought he saw an angel. A real, true, feathery-winged angel.

The Nightsong was a warrior of the heavens. An angel in the flesh.

"I am resplendent." Her voice was like a song, yet firm like a Sergeant. "You have given me a great gift, little warrior. Don't you find it oh-so-curious that you would spurn your Dark Lady? Perhaps you feel a stirring of the truth already." Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips, not wanting the comments on her disobedience so soon.

"But that will come later. There is a battle yet to be fought. You have done what we feared was impossible. You have freed me from a century of sorrow. Your power is great. So too must be your weapon. You must choose what you will wield. And the Moonmaiden will provide. Thus I have said; thus will it be so. Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" Tar'eon stepped forward, awaiting her command. She held the air of a general, and he couldn't withstand the order to be her soldier.

"To kill Ketheric Thorm." With that, she took off with a grace flap of her wings, and Tar'eon watched her disappear in awe.

"We need to leave. Lady Shar won't stand for us to be here - not after what we did." Shadowheart quickly warned, and Astarion scoffed.

"If Shar is angry, she's being remarkably quiet about it."

"That's what frightens me. She must be angry, yet I don't feel it, or hear it...There's only silence." She sounded lost, hearing nothing at all. "Let's get out of here, please. Whatever's coming, I don't want to be in the heart of the Shadowfell when it finds me. The Nightsong will be headed for Moonrise Towers. We'd better get there, and see what she's unleashed against Ketheric Thorm."

"Good idea." Karlach nodded sharply.

"Oh fun...can we take a nap first? I'm awfully tired. I swear, it's the air here." Astarion tutted before he pointed behind them. "Oh. Portal. That saves us some effort. I don't think we can use the sigils magic down here."

"Come on. If we're lucky, they might hold off battle just one more night so you can get your beauty rest." Tar'eon chuckled and Astarion clicked his tongue as he was ushered towards the portal.

"I'm still mad at you, I'll have you know."

"I promise, I will tell you everything once we get back."

"...Fine. I'm feeling rather generous after that heartfelt display." He gestured to Shadowheart and Karlach behind them before they passed through the portal. Karlach was halfway through herself when Shadowheart gave a bloodcurdling scream of pain, the hold of Karlach's hand slipping away as the portal went black.

"Shadowheart!" Karlach cried and banged on the impenetrable window. Astarion looked at him in alarm and though he wouldn't dare admit it to anyone else, he ran towards the portal to get to their cleric as well, digging his dagger into it futilely in hopes of creating a crack in the magic.

A few agonising moments passed before the portal seemed to come alive again, Shadowhearts body falling through it, as well as a glowing spear, different from Lady Shar's own. She was curled up on the floor, looking like she was in agony as Karlach knelt by her side. They all waited with baited breath before she groaned, sitting up. Her head rested upon Karlach's shoulder, feeling weak.

"I...I thought I was done for. I thought perhaps I might have been dead." She breathed, eyes haunted as she tried to forget. "This...This all feelings like some terrible dream. But it's real, isn't it? I stood before the Nightsong. I heard Lady Shar's words...and I failed her."

"You did the right thing." Karlach assured, squeezing her hand in hers.

"I did worse than fail her. I defied her." She bowed her head in shame. It was hard not to feel it. "I...I tried to leave. But Lady Shar blocked me. Punished me for failing her. I thought I knew the limit of pain that the incurable wound could inflict, but I had no idea." She shook her head, allowing Karlach to hold said wound to her chest.

"It felt like I was suffering the agony of a thousand people, all at once. My blood was boiling, my hair was on fire. I thought I'd claw my own face off with the pain..." Karlach looked heartbroken. Guilty. She had convinced Shadowheart to betray her mistress after all. She never wanted her lover to be punished though. "But then she released me - banished me more like. She said I was an outcast, that all of her children would know me and revile me. I'm alone."

"You're not." Karlach promised. "You will never be alone again. Not on my watch."

"I have to agree with her." Tar'eon smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid you're stuck with us."

"Yes, well...I'd miss you briefly if you died." Astarion offered and Tar'eon elbowed him while Karlach glared. "Alright, alright! You are...my friend." His gracious attempt actually drew a small chuckle from her lips.

"I'm a target now. Anyone who bows to the Dark Lady could turn on me at any moment." She warned.

"Like we can't take a few Shar worshippers." Karlach scoffed. "We've got you, baby." Shadowheart smiled shyly at the pet name and Astarion pretended to stick a finger down his throat and gag to Tar'eon while the lovebirds made eyes. He shoved him gently, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Let's head back to the Inn. I imagine everyone is waiting there. Even if they aren't, I doubt they'll charge into Moonrise without us. We need the rest if we're going up against Ketheric." Tar'eon decided, and Shadowheart looked conflicted, wanting to talk to the Nightsong as soon as possible, but Tar'eon was right. They were all exhausted from travelling through the Shadowfell and besting Balthazar.

Tar'eon took Karlach's hand and then Astarion's, closing his eyes as Shadowheart clung to her lover. In a flash, they were back at the Inn, and relieved to be.

He looked up at the Inn and waved to Jaheira who was leaning against the balcony, Lae'zel beside her, sharpening her blade. Halsin gave a bow of his head at their arrival, a new resolve in that naturally warm gaze.

One last night, he thought to him. Then, Ketheric Thorm will be dead, and the Shadow Lands free once more.

#astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x mc #astarion x male tav #astarion bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion #baldurs gate tav

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littlemourningstarr · 3 months

Text

Coalesce in Darkness

Sekh'met is convinced his pining is hopeless, but that doesn't stop the way his heart soars for Astarion. A trip out with Karlach ends with him returning to camp covered in blood, and the vampire showing what he can only wistfully hope is concern. Little does he know, Astarion's own mind is in just as great a tumult, as he tries to reason through exactly what he's doing with the drow.

Read below or on AO3!

Read Astarion's take on the experience.

Pairing: Astarion x transmasc Tav

Tags: Mutual pining, Blood drinking, Blood kink, Vaginal fingering, Frottage, Underwear theft, Masturbation

“I have blood everywhere,” Sekh exclaimed, attempting to shake it from his hands and arms, as he could just see the borders of camp coming into view. Next to him, Karlach laughed, quite loud, as if to announce their return.

“You’re the warlock that insists on getting his hands dirty, soldier.” She attempted to brush a thick rivet of blood off her armor, and only smeared it. Karlach frowned. “It is a bit much this time, isn’t it?”

“We look like we got massacred,” Sekh whispered, which was very true. It was in their hair, smeared on their faces-

But they were fine. The Gnolls they had run into, well- that was a different story.

They stepped into camp, could hear the usual evening bustle. The sun would be setting soon, and if they wanted to clean up at all, they’d need to hurry, or they’d get the joy of freezing water.

“Holy hells.” They paused, Wyll a few paces ahead of them, holding a large pot full of water- presumably for whatever he and Gale was concocting for dinner. His voice drew the party’s attention, and everyone began glancing up from what they were doing, taking in their blood drenched comrades.

“Uh, hey,” Karlach managed, waving with her free hand. She had a sack thrown over her other shoulder. Sekh sighed, was going to let her handle this- but then he noticed Astarion, pushing his way past Wyll, eyes going rather wide at the sight of them.

The vampire crossed the small space between them in a quick pace, eyes roving over Sekh, seeming to try and take in every detail. Before the drow could say anything, Astarion’s hands were on his shoulders, holding him steady as he inclined his head, studied his face, seemed to be searching him for discomfort.

Sekh realized Astarion thought the blood was his. Or at least, some of it.

“I’m fine,” he said, rather softly, his voice nearly breaking. His chest squeezed so tightly he swore his ribs might shatter, might puncture his skin and make the two words a lie. The thought of Astarion caring enough to worry-

He needed to shove it away, so far down he forgot about that wish. They’d had one night, and that was it. And of course the man would be worried- they were all better together, they had come to realize.

“The Gnolls we met, not so much,” Karlach burst in, grinning. Sekh glanced over at her, then past Astarion- and realized they were all watching them.

Astarion cleared his throat, took a step back, broke their contact. Sekh missed it instantly. “Good, it would have taken all night to stitch the two of you up.” His eyes still clung to Sekh, and the drow wanted to reach out, touch his hand, reconnect in even the smallest of ways. Every brush of a hand, every glance, since their night after their camp hosted the Tieflings- they all resonated in Sekh with a ferocity that could render him senseless.

Astarion turned on his heel, walked briskly past everyone, ignoring any lingering glances. Sekh didn’t know what to say, felt like his tongue had died- and was grateful when Karlach announced they were going to get cleaned up, and that whatever Wyll and Gale were cooking up had better make the bloodshed worth it.

They had camped near a large stream, and once the rest of the party had dispersed, Sekh and Karlach made their way over. It was far enough to be out of sight of camp- so when Karlach began stripping down quickly to just her skin, Sekh wasn’t exactly shocked.

“I feel like I should just dive in, robes and all,” he mused, even as he began stripping off each layer. “It’s going to take ages to get all this blood off.”

“Metal is easier to clean than cloth!” Karlach yelled, as Sekh heard the sounds of the water splashing around her as she waded into the stream. “Take note, soldier.”

He rolled his eyes lovingly, shucking his robes to the ground, then his pants- before he exclaimed, very loudly, “Gods below there is blood in my underwear.”

Karlach laughed loud enough to shatter the realms as Sekh stripped the bit of fabric off, chucking it away into the long grass in dismay. He took a few quick steps into the river, before he yelped, the water like ice on his legs. The sun had begun to set, and with it, the temperature had begun to drop. The water was going to be freezing if he wasn’t quick.

He forced himself to wade in, until the water was to his waist at the deepest point. Karlach was a few paces away, the water not quite reaching the juncture of her thighs, seeming to not care about her nudity around him. Sekh glanced away, and she snorted. “Don’t act all prim now,” she said, “and get closer- I’m keeping the water warm.”

He couldn’t say no to that invitation.

True to her word, Karlach’s sheer hellish heat had warmed the water around her nicely. Sekh sighed, scooping some up and pouring it over his shoulders and chest, watching as it ran pink down his dusky skin. “It’s in my hair,” he lamented, as he pulled his long hair free of its knot and looked at the streaks of blood matting the ginger strands.

“Under you go!” Karlach dared to touch him, for just a moment, pushed her hand between his shoulder blades and shoved. The touch was hot enough to make his flesh scream- but the burn was welcome, considering the dropping temperature. Sekh pitched forward, stumbling, before he gave in and simply dropped to his knees, allowing himself to lean forward and fully submerge.

The water was a sharp chill to his nerves, but Sekh ignored it. He shook his head beneath the surface, let his hair fan around him in the water, before he pushed himself back up to his feet, breaking the surface with a gasped breath. He opened his eyes, pushed his hair back, watched as the slow current carried away the pink tinged water.

He heard an annoyed click of the tongue, and then, “You’ve left your clothes everywhere.” Sekh turned his head to the shore, noticed Astarion was standing by his pile of robes, frowning at the mess. He had a bundle of something tucked under one of his arms.

“Come to join us?” Karlach yelled- and despite the fact that Sekh could see Astarion was trying not to, his lips quirked up into the quickest of smiles.

Karlach had that effect on everyone.

“Absolutely not.” He said the words never once taking his eyes off Sekh. The drow stared back, held those eyes, felt goosebumps rising up along his arms and shoulders. He couldn’t blame the water, not with how close he stood to Karlach. “You never bothered to grab anything clean,” Astarion said, speaking directly to Sekh. He set the bundle that was under his arm down- and Sekh realized he must have gone into his tent, grabbed fresh clothing for him.

He smiled and couldn’t stop, to the point that his cheeks hurt.

“Aren't you a sweetheart,” Karlach mused, folding her arms across her breasts. Astarion said nothing, and Karlach shifted closer to Sekh, speaking softer. “You two are cute enough to make me gag.”

Sekh splashed her, laughing as he did so. “Shut up,” he teased, “we’re not anything.”

“Right. Okay soldier. Sure.” Sekh opened his mouth to retort again, but Karlach turned her shoulder away from him, a mock silent treatment. He only shook his head.

Sekh stretched his legs out, sighing as he flipped quickly through a few pages of the worn book in his hands. There was another next to him, dog eared from his earlier pursuit. The books held information, sure, but not what he was actively looking for.

A reminder as to what bloody language was carved into Astarion’s back.

He reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. His candle was burning low, and around him, outside his tent, camp was slumbering. He needed to turn in himself, rest, fall into his trance so he could be ready for the coming day. He was a bit sore from he and Karlach’s adventures, if he was honest.

His hand fell from his face and he looked back down at the book. He hadn’t paid attention when he’d grabbed the few he’d found, while he and Karlach were sifting through the remains of the Gnolls and the victims they had claimed before the pair had found them. He didn’t pay much attention to any of the books he had grabbed, since his night with Astarion. He just took and hoped.

This one was nothing but potion recipes- and while this was very much useful and something Sekh wanted for his own personal knowledge collection, it didn’t help. He glanced over at his pack, considered if it was worth attempting to transcribe some of the information tonight into the old tome he carried with him. Years of learning all etched into an old, falling apart book in his sketchy hand, for his forever reference.

His eyelids were heavy. It would have to wait.

He closed the book, was about to set it aside, when he heard the faintest of footfalls, outside his tent, pausing at the entrance. There were only two people in camp that could be that quiet- and Lae’zel was not about to be standing outside his tent when the moon was as high as it was, currently.

“Astarion?” he asked, very softly. A moment passed, and maybe he was imagining the shape outside his tent, more fatigued than he had first thought- but then the flap was untied and Astarion was sliding in.

Sekh hadn’t seen the vampire since the sun set. He’d offered him his wrist, almost sheepishly, wanting the intimacy so badly that his bites always gave- but Astarion had glanced at his still healing skin, taken a moment to study his face, and denied him.

He hadn’t bitten Sekh since their night together.

“You’re still awake,” Astarion noted, eyes meticulously working over Sekh. The drow tried very hard to not react, to act as if he wasn’t feeling Astarion pull away every layer of his existence, as the man so easily did.

He was sure he was failing. Miserably.

“Just doing some reading.” He tapped the book in his lap, before he remembered that he had been lounging in his shirt and underwear- and felt almost compelled to try and cover himself.

A ridiculous notion, considering there wasn’t an inch of skin Astarion hadn’t seen.

Astarion got on his knees, before he crawled over Sekh, his hand covering Sekh’s own on the book. The drow’s breath escaped him, the smallest shocked sound. “A good book?”

Sekh swallowed. He felt utterly weak, beneath that stare, with Astarion in his space again, setting his orbit askew. “A let down,” he admitted. Astarion hummed, took the book and set it aside. His hand returned to Sekh’s bare thigh, fingers dancing along the smooth, freckled skin. Sekh couldn’t stop the way his eyelids fluttered.

He knew Astarion saw- the man gave a pleased little hum.

“Anything enticing in the forest?” Sekh managed, still unsure why the vampire was here, but wanting to talk enough to keep him there forever.

Or for a few minutes.

He’d take anything, honestly.

Astarion leaned closer. He smelled of blood, just faintly, beneath everything. The liveliness to his skin told Sekh that he’d fed, at least. Which was a relief. A stupid, pathetic relief, because Sekh knew he wasn’t the only blood source for the vampire- but, still.

He wanted to make sure Astarion’s needs were met.

He wanted him to thrive.

“No,” Astarion admitted, “nothing as…delectable as I could have found here.”

Sekh shivered, opened his mouth before his mind had the words to speak- but it never mattered. Astarion took it as an invitation, closed the space between them and took Sekh’s mouth with his own. Sekh sighed, eyes falling shut as he reached up, grasped at Astarion’s shirt. Astarion’s mouth was soft, as soft as Sekh remembered- and gods above, he was glad he hadn’t fantasized that whole night, dreamt it in a wine induced, feverish, needy delirium.

The tent seemed to close them off from the world, much like the trees had. Sekh was lost in the liquid sound of their mouths, sliding easily in an effortless rhythm. Astarion sucked at his lower lip, before he finally pushed his tongue past Sekh’s lips.

He tasted of blood.

Sekh didn’t mind, found he rather liked it, even if it wasn’t his own. He fisted his hands tighter in Astarion’s shirt, felt the hand that was on his thigh touching the tender, inner skin now- fingers brushing over where Astarion had bitten, nights before.

And then pressing against Sekh’s clothed cunt. Sekh broke away, gasped, eyes fluttering open. Astarion was smiling, all devil, all control, except-

Something at the corner of his eyes, the edges of his lips- something was almost feral, needy. And Sekh swore he wasn’t supposed to see it.

Astarion dipped his head to Sekh’s neck, mouthed at his dark skin, before he nipped at his earlobe. Sekh gasped, found his hips rolling, trying to grind against Astarion’s fingers as they gently rubbed at him, through his underwear.

“I thought I could go without a taste,” he whispered, his voice breathy. The control Sekh had seen seemed to be melting away. “I was wrong.”

The pressure at Sekh’s cunt increased, Astarion’s fingers pushing harder. It was making Sekh’met dizzy, his head beginning to spin.

And then Astarion’s deft fingers were pushing fabric aside, rubbing up his bare slit. Sekh mewled, his hands moving to Astarion’s sides, then his back, as the vampire continued to mouth desperately at his neck.

“Can I?” Astarion asked, fingers still teasing, not touching Sekh’s clit directly, which he wanted, so badly. Sekh swallowed thickly, tried to nod, but wasn’t sure he actually moved. He must not have, before Astarion finally did touch him where he wanted, fingers pushing past his lips, dragging wetness up to his heavy clit, rubbing over it slowly. “Sekh?”

His name was music, a prayer, a song, everything and nothing on Astarion’s tongue. Sekh moaned, head dropping back, and he was babbling, yes, yes, yes over and over again.

Astarion could drain him dry, send him to the brink of death, let him tumble over. It didn’t matter. To meet an end at his lips, his fingers, his fangs- it would be euphoria.

Sekh swore Astarion purred, a pleased rumble, as he continued to touch. He rubbed slow, circular motions along Sekh’s clit, dragged his mouth, his tongue along every inch of Sekh’s exposed throat. But, oh, he didn’t bite.

Sekh let his hands roam along Astarion’s back, felt the ridges of his scars beneath his shirt. He was panting, all the desire he had harbored since their one night together blossoming, spreading like a wildfire beneath his skin.

Astarion slid his fingers off Sekh’s clit, just as the pleasure sparks igniting his nerves were beginning to hum. Sekh whimpered, before he gave a little cry, two of Astarion’s fingers sliding with such ease into his body.

No one had ever turned him on, like Astarion. He’d never been so ready, so willing, so fucking wet before. But he swore, just a glance from the vampire, and he was melting, wanton.

“You get so wet for me,” Astarion murmured, thrusting slowly, lazily, with his fingers. He finally pulled from Sekh’s neck, stared down at him with eyes that wanted. Sekh had this feeling, in his gut, that he wasn’t supposed to see that want.

Sekh moved a hand along Astarion’s back, cupped the back of his neck, leaned into him for a kiss. Astarion tried to take control, but Sekh nipped at his tongue, got a hiss from the vampire. His fingers tangled in the curls at the base of Astarion’s neck, as the drow sucked at his lip, shaking as Astarion’s fingers thrust faster, curling in such a delicious way.

“I want you,” Sekh finally whispered, not denying himself as his hips met Astarion’s rhythm, an easy grind against his hand. There was no reason to deny it, now. “I thought you wanted me…”

He tilted his head, bared his neck in emphasis. Astarion groaned, bared those glorious fangs. “Oh, I do, darling,” he whispered, voice deep, but catching in his throat. “But your blood is best burning.” He thrust his fingers harder, on emphasis, and Sekh shook from his very core, body trying to clench around Astarion’s fingers. The vampire chuckled. “Oh, how you do burn for me, Sekh.”

He pressed his palm to Sekh’s clit then, let the drow grind desperately into him. Sekh felt a wave of euphoria building in him, his muscles reaching for Astarion, clutching at him in a building rhythm. Sekh sought his mouth, pulled Astarion to meet him for a desperate, rhythmless kiss. Astarion gave, and it was around his blood-blessed tongue that Sekh came. His whimpers, his mewls, his offerings of Astarion’s name all taken in, drunk down by the vampire, as his fingers thrust roughly into Sekh’met, dragging his orgasm out.

Sekh was panting, body still on the edge, the last precipice of his orgasm, when Astarion pulled his fingers out, roughly shoved him down. Sekh sprawled out, feeling limp, as Astarion grasped his thighs, hoisted his legs up to his hips. Sekh managed to wrap them around him, as Astarion bowed over him, growled into his neck as he bit with a ferocity barely muted.

Sekh gasped, arched, felt Astarion grinding against him desperately. He could feel the shape of his cock, through his pants- thought to try and get his hands to work enough to try and free Astarion of his clothing-

But he didn’t get the chance.

When he moved his hands Astarion pulled from his neck, grasped them, pushed his wrists up above his head. He held them in one hand, the other supporting himself as he rutted against Sekh like a desperate beast in heat. His breaths were ragged, lips smeared with the drow’s blood.

His eyes were wild, feral, unhinged in a glorious way, as if he wasn’t thinking, he was simply acting on whatever he so desperately wanted.

Sekh’met shivered, didn’t fight Astarion’s hold on him as the vampire bowed over him again, went back to his neck. His moan as he lapped at the wound, sucked gently, reverberated through Sekh’s bones, into his very marrow. Sekh moaned himself, grinding against Astarion to meet his desperate ruts, that sweet, tingling knot building at the base of his spine again, the pit of his belly.

Astarion squeezed his wrists tighter, so tight bone could grind, but the ache was welcome. Sekh felt his hips losing rhythm, his clothed cock rubbing against his cunt desperately now, hard- and then Astarion was whining into his neck, gasping, his hips stuttering.

Had… had he-

Before Sekh could put thoughts into words, Astarion was pushing himself up onto his knees, staring down at Sekh as he panted. His mouth was still smeared crimson, his cheeks and ears flushed. Sekh pushed himself up, didn’t think- just reached for Astarion, kissed him achingly, licked at the blood on his lips.

Another whimper, a desperate whine, and he felt Astarion trembling. Before Sekh could get lost in the kiss though, Astarion was pulling away, looking shocked at this, at himself.

“I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off, reached up, touched his wet lips with his fingers. He glanced at the blood that wet his fingertips. “That was more than a taste.”

Sekh smiled. It was honest. “So long as it was what you needed.”

Astarion stared at him, eyes seeming to buzz with a thousand questions. Instead of voicing a single one, he simply mumbled at Sekh to get some rest, and then he was gone, nothing but a whisper, a promise, a myth in the dark.

Sekh stared at the flap of his tent, at the space Astarion had taken up a moment before. With an exasperated groan he flopped down to his back, closed his eyes. How in all the hells did Astarion sweep in like a storm, leave him ravaged, and then be gone, in the very next breath?

Sekh bit at his lip, one hand moving to his neck, pushing at the wounds there. They ached- and perhaps Astarion had taken more than he meant. He’d seemed unable to deny himself.

The thought made Sekh hot all over. Seeing something push through in Astarion, something uncontrolled, it made him ache. The man was too put together for his own good.

Sekh shifted his hips, still pushing at his neck. He felt as if he could have come again, if Astarion had simply kept rutting against him like they were desperate youths. His other hand roamed down his belly, pushed his underwear aside, fingers rubbing slowly over his clit. He sighed, and in his mind, he let himself fall into the idea of Astarion never leaving. Of Astarion burying his face between his thighs again, groaning with need as he made Sekh come again and again, until his chin was dripping with Sekh’s delight.

He let himself wonder, if Astarion could have anything from him, what it would be.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #tavstarion #astarion ancunin #sekh'met #astarion/tav #astarion x tav #sekstarion

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