Yes, there he goes - Astarion preening and putting on those confident airs of his. It brings back a sense of normality that she feels they lost as soon as they started to look for the way into this cursed land.
It was somewhat there while in the Underdark, and he'd been in relatively okay spirits while in the githyanki creche, mostly because she'd bartered for some really good daggers for both of them (proving her beliefs that nothing makes a girl - Ea, in this case - happier than a collection of sharp daggers).
But it's nice to see it again. Truth be told, she tries to not mix personal and professional, and that one night after the party the tieflings threw for them all - conquering heroes, slayers of goblins - has been an oversight, and she knows she's been weird about it.
Sex isn't a foreign activity to Ea, nothing further from than. She just happens to keep her dalliances - of which she has had plenty - far away from her criminal activities. The less her lovers know about her, the better. To say that she has had lovers in every port would be...actually true, to be honest. But they've always been casual by mutual agreement; she's good for a good time, not for a long time.
So falling into bed - or on the forest floor - with Astarion had been one unforgettable, excellent, incredibly hot experience. But she hasn't assumed it will happen again, once he's reassured himself that he's still being protected by the group even when he's being a shit. She's had a speech ready for a while now, something that she's thought about in waiting to see if he'd try to seduce her again - if he would want to. It's a good speech, too!
Maybe one day.
"Speaking of taste," she says, as it hits her. No wonder he's been miserable in the Underdark, and since arriving here - there's no food source for him that's not unpleasant to consider! "If you're hungry while we're here, I hope you know I can lend a hand." Or an arm, or her neck. She's not fond of the idea of being sluggish the next day, but she sure as shit doesn't want Astarion to starve. "Unless I'm still just a snack. Which would be fine, I guess - we can hopefully find you better meals soon."
Astarion is, initially, expecting a few more compliments disguised in banter, but the offering of a meal is hardly something to balk at. The Underdark had been miserable as far as decent prey went, having gotten used to at least being able to hunt wild animals when their enemies in battle were sparse options. Dwarves were about the best he got, and it was only the ones who managed to get on their bad side, and they are hardly as satiating as he had wanted.
But she's been thinking of his needs? Well, it seems that his initial deposit into the well of her good-will has paid off yet again. Suspicious to some degree considering nothing much has happened since that night. Astarion had been half-expecting her to make eyes at him across the campfire or stay a little longer near his tent when she does her rounds of chatting everyone up. But despite this, she hasn't cast him aside.
So what will Ea want for this offering? This is probably his sign.
"Thinking of me? How kind of you." He drops his hand, smile shifting into a more lecherous grin as he turns to face her fully. "Oh, you're more than just a snack. And I will gladly devour all you have to offer..."
She's not immune to the memories and the experience, for the record. That implication and his tone - practically a purr, the flirty bastard - send a little shiver up her spine, blood rushing to her cheeks and darkening her skin. The blush spreads down her throat, and she just pretends like it's not happening.
Because she is so cool.
There are two options to go about this: one is to be pragmatic, and practical, and tell him when and where he can feed from her if they don't bump into any edible enemies - maybe cultists of the Absolute? - while the other is to flirt back and play a game of chicken about who blinks first.
She turns to face him as well, stepping closer, one hand brushing over the frills of the collar of his shirt so very delicately.
"Oh, good. I would hate to think that putting your mouth on me would not be wholly satisfying..."
He knows the effect he can have on people, but it's better getting to see the proof of it. The reassurance that, yes, he can at least still control this thing as much as possible. And while he may have approached her solely for the purpose of securing an alliance, Astarion could admit to himself that she was a decent partner—not something he would say about most of the people he's bedded.
Still, he won't put it into words, because it isn't about that—it's about making sure that said alliance is still where it should be. That he's still of use to her at this point in their journey. Their strange, dear leader.
And there it is, the confirmation he's looking for. Astarion raises his brows lightly and settles into the agreement he believes is coming.
"It sounds like you might need a reminder, my dear. And we have all evening."
Spoilers: she's the chicken, she blinks first. Her heart's not in it, not with Astarion. There have been instances, arrangements - a half-orc barkeep, a dragonborn tailor, for example - who have not made it hard for her to slip into bed with them, with whom Ea has not found it difficult to shut down her emotional needs and investment just to scratch an itch. Hells, she had liked those arrangements.
But she can't pull the same card with Astarion, not knowing all she knows about him by now. A better tiefling might be able to bat her eyelashes at him, swoon right into his arms and in his bed(roll) and forget herself there a while.
Despicable as it is to admit it, Ea craves a bit more connection. Something real, in this fiasco of an adventure. Something that happens not because it's a convenient tool to trade with, but because he wants -
Oh, she's jumping ahead of herself now. Either way, she blinks first and steps closer to kiss his cheek softly. A surrender.
"Come on, then. It's a shitty place full of shit that wants to kill us. Least I can do it make sure my favourite vampire eats." He is also, currently, the only vampire she knows. But don't look into that too hard.
He's getting used to the way she furrows her brow or shifts her stance as she thinks, and Astarion wants to believe he's getting more adept at reading that language. It's easy for him to twist any perceived nervousness into desire, if at least because that's what he's come to expect from everyone else. She can't be that different.
Though she takes a minute—the cheek kiss is unnecessary but not unwelcome, honestly. Even if he would call it rather chaste—he does find the permission that he's looking for.
His lips twitch upwards at the corners into a more lascivious smile. He makes a sweeping motion, a little dramatic, as if indicating the path before them.
"Then lead the way, darling. I will be right. Behind. You."
And he is. He finds no reason to hide it from the rest of the camp, even if their actual activities take place away from prying eyes. If anything, they should know of this bit of favor he's earning, working for. That his place is solidified with their dear leader, not theirs.
Waiting to have you. That's what his tone reminds her of, the sultry low purr of his voice, the memory of his mouth on her neck, on her collarbone, on the little ridges over her ribs. He should take the credit for beng a memorable lay, because she's still basking in that memory when she makes her way ahead of him to camp.
Unbeknownst to her, that active tail of hers is...wagging. Not fast, the way Scratch wags his when she calls him her good boy, but the motion is there. The pep in her step becomes the wag of her tail. Such are the indignities of tiefling physiology.
They set up some of the tents, and leave some bedrolls by the fire for the people who are going to be taking watch - Shadowheart has volunteered, on account of not being tormented by the darkness of this place; Halsin has volunteered, on account of guilt over the darkness of this place. With most of the others retiring for the night after a light, perfunctory dinner made up of hard-tack rations, Ea pockets a potion of Supreme Healing, and slips inside Astarion's tent.
Oh, he sees it. He most certainly sees it. And while giving his partners pleasure is just part of the arrangement, there is a little bit of smugness is knowing that Ea in particular has been thusly ravished. 'A job well done', is what he tells himself and doesn't delve into it further.
As per usual, Astarion mostly attends to his area. He's not in the habit of assisting the others unless specifically asked, and then it's usually based on who did the asking. He's grateful to mostly go unnoticed and unbothered, idling his time away with re-reading the same book. He doesn't feel like posturing himself to Gale for a new one just yet. Can't let the wizard feel too appreciated for his taste in novels.
As such, Astarion is, in fact, awake and lounging on several pillows by candlelight. Darkvision means he doesn't really need it to read, but he likes the ambiance.
"Awake and waiting, darling." A spark of hunger ignites immediately at her presence. Knowing that he's going to eat something real hasn't been far from his mind since she offered, but now that the hour is at hand, oh he feels famished. Astarion pulls the attached ribbon between the pages of the book and sets it aside. "Come closer."
Hells. Is she nervous, or is she just warming up his food for him, with the undeniable fluster to her pale lavender skin and the rocketed up pulse?
"Hear you out, trying to seduce your dinner." She lets the tent flap fall shut behind her, and in a polite attempt to not skewer the top of the tent with her horns, she falls into a crouch. Does come closer, moving on all fours to kneel beside him in the cot, facing him.
"I've come to look after you," Ea murmurs, because that's what it is, isn't it? She's going to let him feed from her, trusting him to have better self-control than his first encounter with blood that didn't come from sewer rats or forest boars.
In the flicker of candlelight, this feels intimate. She could pretend like it's not happening in easily the worst place on Torril. She could pretend like there aren't six more people beyond the boundaries of his cosy tent, who will overhear - I've come to look after you? Gods, Shadowheart is probably going to snort into her wine at that one. It's just Ea and Astarion, and his books - no, book.
What a thing to notice, in the middle of her uninvited nerves. "Isn't that the same book you've been reading for the past two weeks? Do we need to start keeping the books we find in abandoned houses?" She's been selling them to merchants for better armor and items, but they barely come up to much - and she would be lying if she said she hasn't kept a few to peruse at long rest. Steamy bodice rippers, mostly. (And hilariously, that one book about the myth of the vampire that she picked up in the crypt where they found Withers.)
"I've done more for less," he says, dropping his voice to a soft timber to only further her point. And he has, bearing a little bit more of his sordid history than many might already assume given his promiscuity. But it works. Why fix what isn't...well, it works.
And her reply gets a gentle laugh, reaching out with his now free hand to beckon her closer.
"You are? Oh you sweet thing."
Cute. He knows this needs to be an equivalent exchange, but the sentiment is strangely welcome. It would be easy to be repulsed by having a vampire's teeth at your neck and he would be a fool to ignore a willing donor. However long this will last, he'll enjoy it. This little indulgence. Because that is what it is—Astarion can survive on nothing for much longer. (And he will not revisit the thought that a proper meal is an "indulgence" rather than a necessity. Not right now.)
But there is a pause as he glances back towards the book now set aside amongst the pillows. Astarion will not admit it's because he doesn't want to argue with Gale about the plot just yet. Because he knows Gale is wrong and, while that is amusing, the man tries to make it all an academic debate while Astarion just knows what he likes.
"I wanted to make sure I savored every word," Astarion clarifies smoothly while turning his attention back to Ea. "Just as I plan to savor all of you, my dear."
She makes a quick decision about where she doesn't want to be when she's his dinner - laid down on those pillows, with Astarion bent down over her neck. It's too much of a reminder to the first time, and how close to losing all control he'd been.
No, she's going to be in control now, is what she decides.
And because a not insignificant part of her wants him to stop flirting with his dinner, she does it now. She moves, shifting until she is straddling his legs, then sits down in his lap.
"You don't have to," she murmurs, her face close enough to his that she could kiss him again with barely moving one more inch. "Seduce your dinner, I mean. I offered. I'm here. I'm a sure thing."
Astarion could be accused of sending mixed signals, but he feels like he's on the receiving of them now. Easily though she fits on his lap with Astarion gently cupping her elbow, how close she settles herself against him, he knows what ought to come next. He even leans in a little, allowing the heat of her living breath wash over his cool skin.
But her words give him pause. Because he is a man who says one thing and feels another, and she is doing both—her body says she wants more, but her words say it's unnecessary...while somehow calling him out all in one go.
His eyes narrow slightly and he let's out a little laugh, albeit slightly forced. "Darling...whatever you do mean?"
His hand moves from her elbow to her waist, gentle but present.
"You're more than just dinner."
Nothing is ever a sure thing. It...couldn't be that simple, could it? A test? A test of his restraint? Of his loyalty? It seems unlike Ea, but...
"I know," she doesn't hesitate. Maybe it's undeserved confidence, but you don't stay alive and survive all the things she has without getting wildly confident about her own worth.
She knows her worth. She knows that other people don't get to define that for her.
She doesn't think Astarion knows that.
She leans back a little, enough to not make them be so pressed together so she can tell him.
"What I mean is, all these things are separate, as far as I'm concerned. I like you, Astarion."
When Ea likes someone, they're her people. There are no lengths she won't go to, just to keep them safe. Unfortunately for Astarion, he's her people now. Was, even before they slept together. Which she should point out.
"If the region doesn't have a food source for you, I'll be that source - I'm not going to let you starve. And...elephant in the room, yes I like you as well. We can fuck, if you also want it - but not because it's a condition for you to suck my blood."
There's that little frown on her forehead again, eyebrows drawn together.
Ea continues to surprise him in ways he could never imagine.
He frowns, but it's the frown he gets when he's thinking more seriously about something. His eyes narrow a bit, darting back and forth across her face as if trying to find some sign of a joke. Of the test that should be coming.
But none comes. She speaks plainly, simply so that the struggles to find ulterior meanings. It's instinct by now to never take someone at their word and Astarion has become a master at lying as well. Because that's what you do if you want to make it anywhere in this world. Hells, if you just want to survive. You do what's necessary even if it's not what you want.
But.
She says...he doesn't?
"If I want it?"
He repeats. He wants to be favored, to be protected, and to be fed. If fucking will gt him those things, he will get on his back as many times as he needs. It's what he's good at, what he knows people would want of him if they had their pick. But he...he doesn't. She says he doesn't.
"I...really don't know what to do with you," he suddenly says, feeling a little light-headed all of a sudden. But he's not angry. Astarion is just...thrown. He has this woman on his lap and she's saying he can take what he needs and that's it.
"It seems like a poor deal on your end—" He pauses, swallowing. "...But. If you're sure."
It's not like she has years of experience being and edible ally to someone to back her up, but her moral code (as grey as it may be sometimes) tells her that this isn't about equivalent exchanges. How do you even equivalate that exchange - offering up her blood to sustain him, in exchange for what, even?
She has no concept of what would be a poor deal on her end, anyway, so it makes sense for it to not be a deal at all.
"I'm sure. And you not knowing what to do with me..." She gives him the flash of a smile, smug and cheeky in equal measure. "Just as planned. Now, then."
She reaches up and twists her ponytail hair into a bun instead, just to keep her neck bare, then pulls one sleeve of her undershirt off her shoulder, and tilts her head to the side.
"There's a revivify scroll in my bag, but I'd be deeply appreciative if you don't drain me dry."
"Cheeky little thing," he muses, but it's missing the true bite of judgment. She's earned it, he supposes, for surprising him like this. Maybe it is something he should have expected of her by now, but he'll have to spend more time to think on it later when her presence itself isn't here to give him second thoughts.
Her exposed neck pulls Astarion's attention easily. It has been a while since he fed, yes, but also since he fed off of her—his first humanoid meal ever. He's had others since, yes, but you never forget your first. She had taught him not only that Cazador really had no control over him anymore, but that there is a measurable difference between animals and people. A reminder that his prey was always intended to be humans.
"Oh darling, we won't need that..." Granted, he did go nearly that far the first time, but he's learned restraint since then.
Astarion reaches up to cup her neck, brushing his thumb over Ea's main artery.
"But I'll be good. I promise."
Rather than lean forward himself, he coaxes her forward again, letting her rest against him. Bringing his nose to the crux of her neck and shoulder, he breathes in her scent. His teeth feel sharper in his mouth as he begins to salivate, the pink of her flesh looking quite inviting. He savors the moment...and then bites down.
You never forget your first is a sentiment that goes both ways - not that he was the first in that way (hah, it's been almost twenty years now, she's absolutely forgotten her first) but he's the first vampire who ever bit her.
And that first bite, she hasn't forgotten either. As much as Astarion had encouraged her to lie down and promised restraint and vowed appreciation, it had hurt. Pain had been inevitable - just the surprise of it alone.
Something has changed between that and the second, because it doesn't hurt the same. The puncture of his fangs is met with a small gasp, and her thighs tightening against his hips where she's sat. That's Ea, bracing for it.
The first draw - suck? Pull? - he takes of her blood is a rush, leaves her dizzy and bracing herself against him, her hands on his shoulders. By the third, she has managed to relax, her eyes fluttering closed, her tail twitching slightly behind her.
"Mm... I so want to make a comment about you promising to be good," she murmurs, just to fill the silence. If her voice sounds similar to the raspy headiness of pleasure, well.
Look at that, he's being good after all.
She said that they could fuck again if he wanted to, because Ea does. All the time. And can you blame her? Look at him - just looking at him is enough to make her blood race. To let him feed from her, to be held so close and handled with care? Her blood is practically racing to the open wound he has sunk his fangs into, as shameless as the tiefling trying not to squirm in his lap.
The rush of blood is immediate and Astarion all but sighs into it. It's rich, savory, and sweet all at the same time, scratching an itch that only the blood of a humanoid can. The switch from rats and insects to boards and bears had been grand enough, but it wasn't until he had Ea that Astarion truly began to understand his nature.
His true nature. A predator, a hunter. Something that's made to devour.
The beat of her heart helps push the blood to the open wound, but Astarion still sucks deeply to pull it in. The warm trickle down the back of his throat soothes his tension almost instantly. He can feel the minute shifts in Ea's posture, hear the sound of her voice like something distant despite how close her lips are to his ears, but it all pales in comparison to the hum of her heart. It's all so easy to fall into...
But restraint is something he's had to learn quickly, no matter how delicious his meal is. It takes a moment, but he registers what she's said. Unwilling to break free just yet, he acknowledges Ea with a questioning hum while holding her close.
The pause feels like an opportunity to catch her breath again, albeit a shuddering one. Her head is spinning enough for some alarm bells to ring, and she notices a few more details in a rush of input.
One of her hands have migrated to the back of his skull, fingers sunk into his soft hair. The other is at his collarbone, fingertips against bare skin. She's wrapped her tail around his waist - hells, what is she doing over here? Get it together.
"I think I'm dizzy," she rasps out, since he's paused to hear her out. She's not dizzy, she's yearning. In his lap and yearning, like some sentimental fool. Maybe it's the nature of this place, where there is so much darkness and past sorrow turned into a curse, that she thinks being held close by Astarion (while he feeds) is a ray of light.
She is a fool. Her old Guildmaster accused her of it, called her out on the fact that she can be sentimental and it gets in the way of getting the job done. What's the job right now that needs to get done? Return to Baldur's Gate, or listen to whatever the dream guardian tells her she must do. Not wonder which of her companions will want to stay at her side when all is said and done, not think about the next adventure, not want to hoard them all - as if friendship and connection is treasure, and she's a dragon.
"Ignore me," she murmurs, "I'm likely to say some foolish things..."
Oh, she is something alright. Even though he's only seen her thusly 'compromised' before, he knows the signs well. The way she holds onto him, the way her body leans into his. It isn't just the rapture of the bite, as Astarion knows that's more on his end of the deal. But it is something.
Ea had given him a choice despite her own needs...the needs she's clearly trying to pretend she doesn't have right now. Her tail definitely says otherwise.
Astarion gives another hum of acknowledgment before he releases her neck, feeling the loss of her blood flowing freely into his mouth. But he's had enough to sustain him reasonably for a few days and, hells, he's gone on much longer without. He doesn't intend to drain her dry as tempting as the idea might be. The last thing he needs is the rest of the camp haranguing him in the morning for nearly killing their dear leader.
Besides, she's...decent company. He can admit that much.
"You often do," he murmurs into her sick before giving the wound an unceremonious lick. Waste not. (And it is definitely on purpose.) "And yet I indulge you anyway, my dear."
Astarion pulls back more fully then so that he can try to catch her gaze. "Are you asking me to be bad?"
To some degree, every companion who noticed where she was going the night after the party with the tieflings was quick to warn her about him. Some while admitting to seeing the appeal, others while failing to see why Ea saw the appeal, but each one acting as if she'd thought she can fix him.
She tells him now what she more or less implied then.
She meets his gaze, holds it for a moment. "You forget, I like it when you're bad."
He's not a broken thing to need fixing. She doesn't want to fix Astarion, she likes him as he is. Interesting, a bit of a fussy little shit, and unapologetically himself.
But liking and wanting are two separate beasts, and Ea knows which one growls loudest, especially with Astarion's face this close.
She removes her hand from his hair, and brushes her thumb over the corner of his mouth, where a drop of her blood is already drying off.
"Don't waste me," she murmurs, and because it's not weird - not weird at all! - licks her thumb clean in front of him.
Astarion certainly doesn't think he needs fixing, even with acknowledging how broken he is—it's the world that needs fixing, he just doesn't believe it's possible. Operating within the paradigm means using everything and everyone around you as best you can. To trust no one. To be able to cut ties as soon as they become dangerous.
Yet he doesn't like the thought of being alone. As much as Astarion may posture otherwise, he would much rather be in this little camp amongst these fools than be out and about wandering in the sunlight by himself. And he knows that admitting such a thing would be truly the most ridiculous thing he can do.
But what does he say about the woman in his lap? Making a play to his very nature. And even he can't stop his pupils from dilating when she licks her own blood off of her thumb.
Their hunger may of two different kinds right now, but he wonders if he doesn't owe her some kindness in turn. Even if she said it wasn't necessary.
"Perish the thought." He regards her with a slight cant of his head. "How bad would you like me, hm? How badly do you need me?"
Because he's fairly certain he knows what he actually wants, she just won't ask for it after absolving him of such duties a few moments before.
There are limits to how much she can resist the pull towards the pale elf, and he puts them to the test even now.
How badly do you need me?
Her resistance snaps, and she lets out a shuddery breath, admitting softly, "Badly."
She may not fully realise it's a shared sentiment, but she doesn't want to be alone either. This is why there have been many people over the years - twenty or so, to his two hundred - to be invited into Ea's bed.
Every time she's craved touch like a flower craves the sun, she's found someone attractive and willing and given them a night, two, or however long she was in the area for. She'd never expected to linger in anyone's heart longer, she knows better than that.
Years back, maybe among the first of her lovers, someone had taken the tiefling for the pure pride of having bedded all ancestries, but the seduction had been so thorough that Ea had expected it to be a relationship.
She remembers their words, as they walked out of her life. Oh, sweetheart. Who would love a thief? You're a good lay, Ea, take pride in that and move on.
She is going to have to move on, eventually. From the little camp, from all the companions who have goals beyond her in Baldur's Gate, from Astarion - and the deeper the bonds she forges, the harder it'll be.
Maybe she's a masochist. She hasn't leaned away from him yet. The only sign of distance is that she's loosened her tail from around his waist and let it fall behind her on the pillows, between his legs.
Oh, her resolve crumbles so readily. Astarion could laugh, but he doesn't. He could pat himself on the back of a job well-done as well, but he doesn't, even if this is technically playing into his hand the way he always intended. The way that he knows he can ply the people around him. To be useful.
But the question she asks him, heated though it is, feels posed in a slightly differently light—would he like her to show him?
The obvious answer would be 'yes' to keep up with the banter, but Astarion does give it a moment's pause. Because Ea had given him a gift greater than the blood she offers—she gave him agency. She said he doesn't need to get into bed with her if he doesn't want to.
So for the first time in two-hundred years he asks himself...does he want to?
He could say 'no'. There's a thrill to it, turning people down. To rejection. But the word doesn't form as easily on his lips as he thought it might. This strange woman has a hold on him much tighter than her tail had been, even if he doesn't fully realize it yet. But it manifests just enough for Astarion to consider that maybe now that he feels more of is vigor returning thanks to a meal, the idea isn't one he hates. And it's one he has the power to choose.
Astarion takes hold of her chin, pressing his thumb to the space right below her bottom lip. He closes that scant space between their mouths in a surprisingly chaste kiss, but lets his lips ghost hers when he speaks his consent,
For a few charged moments, she holds her breath. He should be able to tell, she does it as soon as he takes hold of her chin, until he leans in and ruins all her fucking resistances. Obliterates them. Walks across them with iron boots - and more apt metaphors for the fact that she's a bit of a mess.
Her eyes flutter closed for that chaste kiss, reopening to half-mast, only wide enough to see him - catch his lips moving, hear the words, and dart up to those wine-red eyes. She leans in and flicks her tongue over the bow of his upper lip, and closes the scant distance between them for another kiss.
Need is a persistent drumming in her chest, it's her heartbeat racing, it's her toes curling in her boots, her hands coming to cup his face so tenderly. It's the brush of her lips against his once, then twice, and then deeper. It's the restraints coming off, and her little hum of pleasure when she tastes him - in lingering notes, also tasting herself on his tongue.
Need could set this whole tent on fire, if an archdevil had stolen Ea's heart to replace it with an engine too - thankfully, she's been spared, so Astarion's tent remains intact and safe for now.
After what feels like a good decade spent just kissing him (it is half a minute, but be melodramatic, Lowkey), she breaks it because she needs to breathe, which is very much unfair.
"Surpriiiise," she says, voice low and a little raspy from the effort. There's a question in there somewhere.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2025-12-02 10:36 am (UTC)It was somewhat there while in the Underdark, and he'd been in relatively okay spirits while in the githyanki creche, mostly because she'd bartered for some really good daggers for both of them (proving her beliefs that nothing makes a girl - Ea, in this case - happier than a collection of sharp daggers).
But it's nice to see it again. Truth be told, she tries to not mix personal and professional, and that one night after the party the tieflings threw for them all - conquering heroes, slayers of goblins - has been an oversight, and she knows she's been weird about it.
Sex isn't a foreign activity to Ea, nothing further from than. She just happens to keep her dalliances - of which she has had plenty - far away from her criminal activities. The less her lovers know about her, the better. To say that she has had lovers in every port would be...actually true, to be honest. But they've always been casual by mutual agreement; she's good for a good time, not for a long time.
So falling into bed - or on the forest floor - with Astarion had been one unforgettable, excellent, incredibly hot experience. But she hasn't assumed it will happen again, once he's reassured himself that he's still being protected by the group even when he's being a shit. She's had a speech ready for a while now, something that she's thought about in waiting to see if he'd try to seduce her again - if he would want to. It's a good speech, too!
Maybe one day.
"Speaking of taste," she says, as it hits her. No wonder he's been miserable in the Underdark, and since arriving here - there's no food source for him that's not unpleasant to consider! "If you're hungry while we're here, I hope you know I can lend a hand." Or an arm, or her neck. She's not fond of the idea of being sluggish the next day, but she sure as shit doesn't want Astarion to starve. "Unless I'm still just a snack. Which would be fine, I guess - we can hopefully find you better meals soon."
no subject
Date: 2025-12-04 06:05 am (UTC)But she's been thinking of his needs? Well, it seems that his initial deposit into the well of her good-will has paid off yet again. Suspicious to some degree considering nothing much has happened since that night. Astarion had been half-expecting her to make eyes at him across the campfire or stay a little longer near his tent when she does her rounds of chatting everyone up. But despite this, she hasn't cast him aside.
So what will Ea want for this offering? This is probably his sign.
"Thinking of me? How kind of you." He drops his hand, smile shifting into a more lecherous grin as he turns to face her fully. "Oh, you're more than just a snack. And I will gladly devour all you have to offer..."
Implications included.
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Date: 2025-12-05 10:24 am (UTC)Because she is so cool.
There are two options to go about this: one is to be pragmatic, and practical, and tell him when and where he can feed from her if they don't bump into any edible enemies - maybe cultists of the Absolute? - while the other is to flirt back and play a game of chicken about who blinks first.
She turns to face him as well, stepping closer, one hand brushing over the frills of the collar of his shirt so very delicately.
"Oh, good. I would hate to think that putting your mouth on me would not be wholly satisfying..."
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Date: 2025-12-08 05:54 am (UTC)Still, he won't put it into words, because it isn't about that—it's about making sure that said alliance is still where it should be. That he's still of use to her at this point in their journey. Their strange, dear leader.
And there it is, the confirmation he's looking for. Astarion raises his brows lightly and settles into the agreement he believes is coming.
"It sounds like you might need a reminder, my dear. And we have all evening."
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Date: 2025-12-08 08:58 am (UTC)But she can't pull the same card with Astarion, not knowing all she knows about him by now. A better tiefling might be able to bat her eyelashes at him, swoon right into his arms and in his bed(roll) and forget herself there a while.
Despicable as it is to admit it, Ea craves a bit more connection. Something real, in this fiasco of an adventure. Something that happens not because it's a convenient tool to trade with, but because he wants -
Oh, she's jumping ahead of herself now. Either way, she blinks first and steps closer to kiss his cheek softly. A surrender.
"Come on, then. It's a shitty place full of shit that wants to kill us. Least I can do it make sure my favourite vampire eats." He is also, currently, the only vampire she knows. But don't look into that too hard.
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Date: 2025-12-12 06:11 am (UTC)Though she takes a minute—the cheek kiss is unnecessary but not unwelcome, honestly. Even if he would call it rather chaste—he does find the permission that he's looking for.
His lips twitch upwards at the corners into a more lascivious smile. He makes a sweeping motion, a little dramatic, as if indicating the path before them.
"Then lead the way, darling. I will be right. Behind. You."
And he is. He finds no reason to hide it from the rest of the camp, even if their actual activities take place away from prying eyes. If anything, they should know of this bit of favor he's earning, working for. That his place is solidified with their dear leader, not theirs.
'hey u up', ea lowkey
Date: 2025-12-13 09:43 am (UTC)Unbeknownst to her, that active tail of hers is...wagging. Not fast, the way Scratch wags his when she calls him her good boy, but the motion is there. The pep in her step becomes the wag of her tail. Such are the indignities of tiefling physiology.
They set up some of the tents, and leave some bedrolls by the fire for the people who are going to be taking watch - Shadowheart has volunteered, on account of not being tormented by the darkness of this place; Halsin has volunteered, on account of guilt over the darkness of this place. With most of the others retiring for the night after a light, perfunctory dinner made up of hard-tack rations, Ea pockets a potion of Supreme Healing, and slips inside Astarion's tent.
"Are you awake?"
next she'll be like "you got any games on your tadpole"
Date: 2025-12-14 05:24 am (UTC)As per usual, Astarion mostly attends to his area. He's not in the habit of assisting the others unless specifically asked, and then it's usually based on who did the asking. He's grateful to mostly go unnoticed and unbothered, idling his time away with re-reading the same book. He doesn't feel like posturing himself to Gale for a new one just yet. Can't let the wizard feel too appreciated for his taste in novels.
As such, Astarion is, in fact, awake and lounging on several pillows by candlelight. Darkvision means he doesn't really need it to read, but he likes the ambiance.
"Awake and waiting, darling." A spark of hunger ignites immediately at her presence. Knowing that he's going to eat something real hasn't been far from his mind since she offered, but now that the hour is at hand, oh he feels famished. Astarion pulls the attached ribbon between the pages of the book and sets it aside. "Come closer."
that's actually 'you got any games on your tadpole, boomer'
Date: 2025-12-14 10:16 am (UTC)"Hear you out, trying to seduce your dinner." She lets the tent flap fall shut behind her, and in a polite attempt to not skewer the top of the tent with her horns, she falls into a crouch. Does come closer, moving on all fours to kneel beside him in the cot, facing him.
"I've come to look after you," Ea murmurs, because that's what it is, isn't it? She's going to let him feed from her, trusting him to have better self-control than his first encounter with blood that didn't come from sewer rats or forest boars.
In the flicker of candlelight, this feels intimate. She could pretend like it's not happening in easily the worst place on Torril. She could pretend like there aren't six more people beyond the boundaries of his cosy tent, who will overhear - I've come to look after you? Gods, Shadowheart is probably going to snort into her wine at that one. It's just Ea and Astarion, and his books - no, book.
What a thing to notice, in the middle of her uninvited nerves. "Isn't that the same book you've been reading for the past two weeks? Do we need to start keeping the books we find in abandoned houses?" She's been selling them to merchants for better armor and items, but they barely come up to much - and she would be lying if she said she hasn't kept a few to peruse at long rest. Steamy bodice rippers, mostly. (And hilariously, that one book about the myth of the vampire that she picked up in the crypt where they found Withers.)
BOOMER...cries...
Date: 2025-12-17 04:40 am (UTC)"I've done more for less," he says, dropping his voice to a soft timber to only further her point. And he has, bearing a little bit more of his sordid history than many might already assume given his promiscuity. But it works. Why fix what isn't...well, it works.
And her reply gets a gentle laugh, reaching out with his now free hand to beckon her closer.
"You are? Oh you sweet thing."
Cute. He knows this needs to be an equivalent exchange, but the sentiment is strangely welcome. It would be easy to be repulsed by having a vampire's teeth at your neck and he would be a fool to ignore a willing donor. However long this will last, he'll enjoy it. This little indulgence. Because that is what it is—Astarion can survive on nothing for much longer. (And he will not revisit the thought that a proper meal is an "indulgence" rather than a necessity. Not right now.)
But there is a pause as he glances back towards the book now set aside amongst the pillows. Astarion will not admit it's because he doesn't want to argue with Gale about the plot just yet. Because he knows Gale is wrong and, while that is amusing, the man tries to make it all an academic debate while Astarion just knows what he likes.
"I wanted to make sure I savored every word," Astarion clarifies smoothly while turning his attention back to Ea. "Just as I plan to savor all of you, my dear."
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Date: 2025-12-17 07:53 am (UTC)No, she's going to be in control now, is what she decides.
And because a not insignificant part of her wants him to stop flirting with his dinner, she does it now. She moves, shifting until she is straddling his legs, then sits down in his lap.
"You don't have to," she murmurs, her face close enough to his that she could kiss him again with barely moving one more inch. "Seduce your dinner, I mean. I offered. I'm here. I'm a sure thing."
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Date: 2025-12-18 05:11 am (UTC)But her words give him pause. Because he is a man who says one thing and feels another, and she is doing both—her body says she wants more, but her words say it's unnecessary...while somehow calling him out all in one go.
His eyes narrow slightly and he let's out a little laugh, albeit slightly forced. "Darling...whatever you do mean?"
His hand moves from her elbow to her waist, gentle but present.
"You're more than just dinner."
Nothing is ever a sure thing. It...couldn't be that simple, could it? A test? A test of his restraint? Of his loyalty? It seems unlike Ea, but...
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Date: 2025-12-18 08:32 am (UTC)She knows her worth. She knows that other people don't get to define that for her.
She doesn't think Astarion knows that.
She leans back a little, enough to not make them be so pressed together so she can tell him.
"What I mean is, all these things are separate, as far as I'm concerned. I like you, Astarion."
When Ea likes someone, they're her people. There are no lengths she won't go to, just to keep them safe. Unfortunately for Astarion, he's her people now. Was, even before they slept together. Which she should point out.
"If the region doesn't have a food source for you, I'll be that source - I'm not going to let you starve. And...elephant in the room, yes I like you as well. We can fuck, if you also want it - but not because it's a condition for you to suck my blood."
There's that little frown on her forehead again, eyebrows drawn together.
"Does that make sense?"
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Date: 2025-12-19 05:56 am (UTC)He frowns, but it's the frown he gets when he's thinking more seriously about something. His eyes narrow a bit, darting back and forth across her face as if trying to find some sign of a joke. Of the test that should be coming.
But none comes. She speaks plainly, simply so that the struggles to find ulterior meanings. It's instinct by now to never take someone at their word and Astarion has become a master at lying as well. Because that's what you do if you want to make it anywhere in this world. Hells, if you just want to survive. You do what's necessary even if it's not what you want.
But.
She says...he doesn't?
"If I want it?"
He repeats. He wants to be favored, to be protected, and to be fed. If fucking will gt him those things, he will get on his back as many times as he needs. It's what he's good at, what he knows people would want of him if they had their pick. But he...he doesn't. She says he doesn't.
"I...really don't know what to do with you," he suddenly says, feeling a little light-headed all of a sudden. But he's not angry. Astarion is just...thrown. He has this woman on his lap and she's saying he can take what he needs and that's it.
"It seems like a poor deal on your end—" He pauses, swallowing. "...But. If you're sure."
Then.
"...Then tonight I'm just. Hungry, hungry."
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Date: 2025-12-19 10:39 am (UTC)She has no concept of what would be a poor deal on her end, anyway, so it makes sense for it to not be a deal at all.
"I'm sure. And you not knowing what to do with me..." She gives him the flash of a smile, smug and cheeky in equal measure. "Just as planned. Now, then."
She reaches up and twists her ponytail hair into a bun instead, just to keep her neck bare, then pulls one sleeve of her undershirt off her shoulder, and tilts her head to the side.
"There's a revivify scroll in my bag, but I'd be deeply appreciative if you don't drain me dry."
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Date: 2025-12-21 07:24 am (UTC)"Cheeky little thing," he muses, but it's missing the true bite of judgment. She's earned it, he supposes, for surprising him like this. Maybe it is something he should have expected of her by now, but he'll have to spend more time to think on it later when her presence itself isn't here to give him second thoughts.
Her exposed neck pulls Astarion's attention easily. It has been a while since he fed, yes, but also since he fed off of her—his first humanoid meal ever. He's had others since, yes, but you never forget your first. She had taught him not only that Cazador really had no control over him anymore, but that there is a measurable difference between animals and people. A reminder that his prey was always intended to be humans.
"Oh darling, we won't need that..." Granted, he did go nearly that far the first time, but he's learned restraint since then.
Astarion reaches up to cup her neck, brushing his thumb over Ea's main artery.
"But I'll be good. I promise."
Rather than lean forward himself, he coaxes her forward again, letting her rest against him. Bringing his nose to the crux of her neck and shoulder, he breathes in her scent. His teeth feel sharper in his mouth as he begins to salivate, the pink of her flesh looking quite inviting. He savors the moment...and then bites down.
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Date: 2025-12-21 01:16 pm (UTC)And that first bite, she hasn't forgotten either. As much as Astarion had encouraged her to lie down and promised restraint and vowed appreciation, it had hurt. Pain had been inevitable - just the surprise of it alone.
Something has changed between that and the second, because it doesn't hurt the same. The puncture of his fangs is met with a small gasp, and her thighs tightening against his hips where she's sat. That's Ea, bracing for it.
The first draw - suck? Pull? - he takes of her blood is a rush, leaves her dizzy and bracing herself against him, her hands on his shoulders. By the third, she has managed to relax, her eyes fluttering closed, her tail twitching slightly behind her.
"Mm... I so want to make a comment about you promising to be good," she murmurs, just to fill the silence. If her voice sounds similar to the raspy headiness of pleasure, well.
Look at that, he's being good after all.
She said that they could fuck again if he wanted to, because Ea does. All the time. And can you blame her? Look at him - just looking at him is enough to make her blood race. To let him feed from her, to be held so close and handled with care? Her blood is practically racing to the open wound he has sunk his fangs into, as shameless as the tiefling trying not to squirm in his lap.
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Date: 2025-12-27 04:10 am (UTC)His true nature. A predator, a hunter. Something that's made to devour.
The beat of her heart helps push the blood to the open wound, but Astarion still sucks deeply to pull it in. The warm trickle down the back of his throat soothes his tension almost instantly. He can feel the minute shifts in Ea's posture, hear the sound of her voice like something distant despite how close her lips are to his ears, but it all pales in comparison to the hum of her heart. It's all so easy to fall into...
But restraint is something he's had to learn quickly, no matter how delicious his meal is. It takes a moment, but he registers what she's said. Unwilling to break free just yet, he acknowledges Ea with a questioning hum while holding her close.
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Date: 2025-12-27 10:02 am (UTC)One of her hands have migrated to the back of his skull, fingers sunk into his soft hair. The other is at his collarbone, fingertips against bare skin. She's wrapped her tail around his waist - hells, what is she doing over here? Get it together.
"I think I'm dizzy," she rasps out, since he's paused to hear her out. She's not dizzy, she's yearning. In his lap and yearning, like some sentimental fool. Maybe it's the nature of this place, where there is so much darkness and past sorrow turned into a curse, that she thinks being held close by Astarion (while he feeds) is a ray of light.
She is a fool. Her old Guildmaster accused her of it, called her out on the fact that she can be sentimental and it gets in the way of getting the job done. What's the job right now that needs to get done? Return to Baldur's Gate, or listen to whatever the dream guardian tells her she must do. Not wonder which of her companions will want to stay at her side when all is said and done, not think about the next adventure, not want to hoard them all - as if friendship and connection is treasure, and she's a dragon.
"Ignore me," she murmurs, "I'm likely to say some foolish things..."
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Date: 2025-12-31 06:44 am (UTC)Ea had given him a choice despite her own needs...the needs she's clearly trying to pretend she doesn't have right now. Her tail definitely says otherwise.
Astarion gives another hum of acknowledgment before he releases her neck, feeling the loss of her blood flowing freely into his mouth. But he's had enough to sustain him reasonably for a few days and, hells, he's gone on much longer without. He doesn't intend to drain her dry as tempting as the idea might be. The last thing he needs is the rest of the camp haranguing him in the morning for nearly killing their dear leader.
Besides, she's...decent company. He can admit that much.
"You often do," he murmurs into her sick before giving the wound an unceremonious lick. Waste not. (And it is definitely on purpose.) "And yet I indulge you anyway, my dear."
Astarion pulls back more fully then so that he can try to catch her gaze. "Are you asking me to be bad?"
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Date: 2025-12-31 07:40 am (UTC)She tells him now what she more or less implied then.
She meets his gaze, holds it for a moment. "You forget, I like it when you're bad."
He's not a broken thing to need fixing. She doesn't want to fix Astarion, she likes him as he is. Interesting, a bit of a fussy little shit, and unapologetically himself.
But liking and wanting are two separate beasts, and Ea knows which one growls loudest, especially with Astarion's face this close.
She removes her hand from his hair, and brushes her thumb over the corner of his mouth, where a drop of her blood is already drying off.
"Don't waste me," she murmurs, and because it's not weird - not weird at all! - licks her thumb clean in front of him.
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Date: 2026-01-02 05:17 am (UTC)Yet he doesn't like the thought of being alone. As much as Astarion may posture otherwise, he would much rather be in this little camp amongst these fools than be out and about wandering in the sunlight by himself. And he knows that admitting such a thing would be truly the most ridiculous thing he can do.
But what does he say about the woman in his lap? Making a play to his very nature. And even he can't stop his pupils from dilating when she licks her own blood off of her thumb.
Their hunger may of two different kinds right now, but he wonders if he doesn't owe her some kindness in turn. Even if she said it wasn't necessary.
"Perish the thought." He regards her with a slight cant of his head. "How bad would you like me, hm? How badly do you need me?"
Because he's fairly certain he knows what he actually wants, she just won't ask for it after absolving him of such duties a few moments before.
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Date: 2026-01-02 01:01 pm (UTC)How badly do you need me?
Her resistance snaps, and she lets out a shuddery breath, admitting softly, "Badly."
She may not fully realise it's a shared sentiment, but she doesn't want to be alone either. This is why there have been many people over the years - twenty or so, to his two hundred - to be invited into Ea's bed.
Every time she's craved touch like a flower craves the sun, she's found someone attractive and willing and given them a night, two, or however long she was in the area for. She'd never expected to linger in anyone's heart longer, she knows better than that.
Years back, maybe among the first of her lovers, someone had taken the tiefling for the pure pride of having bedded all ancestries, but the seduction had been so thorough that Ea had expected it to be a relationship.
She remembers their words, as they walked out of her life. Oh, sweetheart. Who would love a thief? You're a good lay, Ea, take pride in that and move on.
She is going to have to move on, eventually. From the little camp, from all the companions who have goals beyond her in Baldur's Gate, from Astarion - and the deeper the bonds she forges, the harder it'll be.
Maybe she's a masochist. She hasn't leaned away from him yet. The only sign of distance is that she's loosened her tail from around his waist and let it fall behind her on the pillows, between his legs.
The flower craving the sun, still.
"Would you like me to show you how badly?"
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Date: 2026-01-05 06:41 am (UTC)But the question she asks him, heated though it is, feels posed in a slightly differently light—would he like her to show him?
The obvious answer would be 'yes' to keep up with the banter, but Astarion does give it a moment's pause. Because Ea had given him a gift greater than the blood she offers—she gave him agency. She said he doesn't need to get into bed with her if he doesn't want to.
So for the first time in two-hundred years he asks himself...does he want to?
He could say 'no'. There's a thrill to it, turning people down. To rejection. But the word doesn't form as easily on his lips as he thought it might. This strange woman has a hold on him much tighter than her tail had been, even if he doesn't fully realize it yet. But it manifests just enough for Astarion to consider that maybe now that he feels more of is vigor returning thanks to a meal, the idea isn't one he hates. And it's one he has the power to choose.
Astarion takes hold of her chin, pressing his thumb to the space right below her bottom lip. He closes that scant space between their mouths in a surprisingly chaste kiss, but lets his lips ghost hers when he speaks his consent,
"Surprise me."
And so he chooses.
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Date: 2026-01-06 06:54 pm (UTC)Her eyes flutter closed for that chaste kiss, reopening to half-mast, only wide enough to see him - catch his lips moving, hear the words, and dart up to those wine-red eyes. She leans in and flicks her tongue over the bow of his upper lip, and closes the scant distance between them for another kiss.
Need is a persistent drumming in her chest, it's her heartbeat racing, it's her toes curling in her boots, her hands coming to cup his face so tenderly. It's the brush of her lips against his once, then twice, and then deeper. It's the restraints coming off, and her little hum of pleasure when she tastes him - in lingering notes, also tasting herself on his tongue.
Need could set this whole tent on fire, if an archdevil had stolen Ea's heart to replace it with an engine too - thankfully, she's been spared, so Astarion's tent remains intact and safe for now.
After what feels like a good decade spent just kissing him (it is half a minute, but be melodramatic, Lowkey), she breaks it because she needs to breathe, which is very much unfair.
"Surpriiiise," she says, voice low and a little raspy from the effort. There's a question in there somewhere.
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