Archive of Our Own

Astarion made his way through the dense forest that housed a myth. A local legend. He was bruised, battered, and bloody, and so, so tired of the way he was forced to simply exist in this life. He clutched his barely there shirt that was hanging off of his frame haphazardly- the fabric barely giving him protection from the thorns catching on his skin. His arms, chest, and face were scratched to the hells and back even though the wounds healed after a few moments.

He needed this to work. He needed to find the statue, wake the terror trapped inside, make a deal, and get his revenge. It was all so simple in his mind. Nothing else could save him. 

This had to work .

Because he very well couldn’t go back to his ‘master’ after this. Running away like this was unforgivable and he would only face death in the most excruciating way: cast out at sunrise. And he was running out of moonlight as it was. Daylight was ever looming closer to him. Threatening to disintegrate him piece by piece. 

The spawn hurried his pace and grit his teeth against the pain that radiated through his body from the bottoms of his bare feet to the tips of his ears. Even his hair follicles ached. 

After what felt like days, he finally stumbled through the bramble and into an unnaturally empty clearing. Empty save for the statue of an elf mid-transformation wrapped in thick thorny vines. The man’s mouth was open in a roar, fangs elongated, hands turning to razor-sharp claws raised high above his head. 

The legend told of a shadow-druid that had been betrayed by his lover. He’d called upon the Shadowfell, used its power to control everything it touched. Stole souls of those unfortunate enough to fall victim to the depths and warped their very essence to serve him as he saw fit. He’d heard of the druid all the way in Baldur’s Gate, something latching onto his brain that this would be his way out. His way to return every ‘favor’ Cazador had bestowed upon him. To steal his power for his own.

But… Astarion wasn’t entirely sure if he’d be able to wake the beast. It was said that his lover had betrayed him, lured the druid to a clearing and seduced him. The plan was to leave him vulnerable to the council of magic casters in order for them to activate the hidden glyphs beneath the pair and trap the man in an ‘unbreakable’ curse. Only unbreakable if one wasn’t willing to practically guarantee their death if they succeed, anyway. 

Because the only way to break the curse (as widely believed): To finish what the druid and his lover had started. Ride the statue trapped mid coitus to completion. Why people believed that to be the method, Astarion couldn’t even begin to figure out. But he was desperate enough to try. He’d managed to make the 3 day journey and damn it all he wasn’t going to chicken out at the finish line. 

Astarion approached the statue with caution, as if it might come alive on its own. But it had been there for so long the druid’s name had been forgotten, lost to time as the story was passed down. He swallowed as he began climbing the stone vines, getting a better look at the druid’s face. He was surprised to find that he was far from bad-looking. Quite attractive in his rage and transformation. What was he changing into? Astarion couldn’t say. But it was likely a shadow beast of some form.

The spawn trailed his fingers along the statue’s jaw, wondering what he looked like in the flesh. Did he have tattoos? Scars? Was he dark or light? What color were his eyes? 

What was his name?

Astarion took a breath, eyes trailing down to what ultimately would be his prize. And by the gods he was glad he’d thought ahead and brought plenty of oil in the pack strapped to his hip. He thought that, surely, it was attributed to the properties of being stone. But even that wasn’t truly enough to stop the surprising shock of heat in his gut. He licked his lips, slipping into what looked like a cradle the vines created in their twisting- almost like this was the purpose. 

He felt ridiculous just as much as he felt anticipation. If anyone were to happen upon him like this, leaning over in front of an erect statue opening a flask of oil with his teeth and one hand while the other shimmied his pants down, Astarion would surely burst into flame as if the sun suddenly appeared in the sky. But this was his only option. He had no other course of action to save himself.

He’d anticipated a quick prep and a few halfhearted thrusts while bringing himself off, but not with what he was facing down. He had to make damn sure he was able to take this thing with as little pain as he could manage. And if his fingers thoroughly working his hole open happened to make this whole thing easier to handle, then so be it. 

Astarion decided that he may as well enjoy himself a bit. He was cold, the other spawn were cool to the touch as well. He could pretend that he was with another spawn or a true vampire that just wanted to watch him do all the work. He could work with that fantasy. 

He couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped him as his fingers brushed against that perfect spot inside him, getting up to three before he shoved a 4th in just to say he did at least that much and wasn’t getting worked up over what he was about to do. That he didn’t want to waste any more time to be filled more than he ever had before. He shifted back, eyes closed to keep the fantasy alive to go through with it, and found the head of the cock he needed to guide himself properly. With the head pressed against his hole, he poured half the flask of oil onto the rest of it before he dropped it and started moving his body to take the monster of a cock. 

He trembled as he carefully took every inch, a bit at a time so as to avoid hurting himself . By the time he felt his ass pressing against the cool stone he felt like he was about to shake apart. Both from the pain and the pleasure he felt. His eyes were squeezed shut as he gasped, head tipped back so he could get more air. It felt... so good all of a sudden. He started moving, hands braced against the warmed vines as he rocked and started to carefully fuck himself on the statue. He barely took note that he was almost as hard himself, ironically enough. 

This was better than he thought it would be. Steadily getting better as his body warmed the stone bit by bit to, pathetically, rocket up to his favorite encounter in the centuries he’d existed. Fantastic sex, with a fucking statue. He whined when he got a good angle- which was strange because his hips had dropped and the cock should have forced him back up. Damn fantasy was feeling so real- who knew that he had such a vivid imagination? 

Astarion was so lost to it that he barely registered a cut off growl, attributing it to an animal somewhere in the woods hunting. The touches to his sides and hips? The shredded remains of his shirt, clearly. The throbbing heat jumping deep inside him? Merely… What?

His eyes shot open as he felt himself yanked back onto a very hot and real cock by hands now tightly gripping his hips. Claws biting into his skin before turning to proper fingers. He couldn’t have kept in the cry of pleasure if he’d been gagged and silenced. Astarion looked over his shoulder, trembling now from a surge of fear mixing with the arousal, to lock eyes with the burning gold of the now flesh-and-blood druid smirking down at him and licking at his fangs. 

His throat clicked as he tried to speak, only to collapse in pleasure as the sex really claimed top ranking with the druid leaning over and fucking into him without mercy. His erection had flagged a bit with the fear, but had returned with a vengeance at the sound of the voice rasping and growling in his ear as the druid leaned over him and blanketed his back with an inferno of heat.

“And what did I do to deserve such a lovely wake up?”

Fuck, that voice alone was almost enough to make him come. Astarion whimpered, brows pinched and mouth open and panting as he turned his head enough to see part of the druid’s face. And he was so much better looking than he’d thought he would be like this. Even with a slight snarl and the eyes of a predator ready to rip apart his prey. 

“What brought you to me? Why should I not kill you when I’m done fucking you?”

Another whimper escaped Astarion, fingers gripping into the wooden vines that were starting to coil around his wrists. He was dropped to his chest as his wrists were pulled from under him, stretched out and bound before him. He could feel vines wrap around his thighs, tearing his pants as thorns dug into the meat of his thighs and spread him open. Another cry as the druid fucked into him even deeper, something Astarion hadn’t thought possible until that moment. 

“Answer me, little bat.”

Astarion could only hope he could answer well enough to be spared. Or at least get words out over the blinding pleasure that far outweighed the threat of death upon climax. 

“Pa-pact! Ah! Fuck! Haaa… Reve… nnnng! Revenge!” he managed, tears springing to his eyes. He let out a sob of both relief and loss as the druid slowed and came to a stop. Though his cock was still hard as ever and throbbing inside him. 

“You think you can help me get revenge? Make a pact? With you? What makes you worthy?”

Not actively being fucked and enveloped with mind numbing pleasure gave Astarion a chance to get his thoughts together. He looked over his shoulder properly, gasping and licking his lips. 

“I knew how to release you. I know the names of the wizards and sorcerers who cursed you. I know the names of their children and their children’s children and so on. I found the records. I found you. I broke the curse. All I ask in return… is my own revenge. To claim my ‘masters’ power for myself and steal it out from under him.” He took measured breaths, not wanting to seem weak or unworthy. His voice was steady, eyes hard and filled with a burning desire to destroy and take. Rage and hatred radiated off of him as he thought about everything Cazador had put him through. What he’d put the bastard through in turn. 

He got a deep and dangerous rumbling chuckle in response before he was unceremoniously empty and flipped over. The most dangerous being he’d ever known (even counting Cazador if everything he’d read was true) caged him in while still completely at his mercy with the vines binding him. 

“We have a deal.”  

And then his mouth was utterly claimed as that perfect monster of a cock thrust into him. The druid showed no mercy as he was fucked, claimed by the man that had caused so much death and destruction. And he was more than willing to be claimed by him. Anything was better than what he would face otherwise. 

It didn’t take long for Astarion to reach his peak, yelling out his pleasure and going boneless. He felt something soft, moss, grow under him to soften whatever it was he was laid out on like a sacrificial lamb. Though… the druid seemed far from finished. He felt both dread and thrill by the dark smirk cast his way.

“I’m far from done with you tonight. I have been hard for centuries . And I intend to relish my return.” And before Astarion could bring up the danger of the sun, the clearing was blanketed in cold darkness. Not even the moon could be seen anymore. This had to be the Shadowfell. The druid was free and so was his power. “I will protect you, little bat. You’re mine , now.”

The last thing Astarion remembered before he passed out was the druid sinking fangs into his neck, right over Cazador’s bite.

Astarion awoke later, though he wasn’t entirely sure how much later. The area was still dark. Though he thought he could possibly see daylight at the edge of the clearing? He had no idea. No way to tell what time it was or how long he had been out. 

However…

Once that was not quite figured out, he took stock of the pain and aches he was suddenly acutely aware of. That and the muscular arm holding him possessively around the middle and the furnace of a body pressed firmly against his back from chest to toe. He swallowed and moved as much as he dared to sit up enough to turn and look at the elf behind him. 

It worked… It fucking worked!

It hadn’t been a fever dream, hadn’t been something his mind came up with as he faced the sun for being too slow to find cover. He couldn’t believe it. He turned fully, eyes darting all over the druid’s face as he hesitantly reached up and dared to touch with nothing more than the tips of his shaking fingers. If the druid kept his word… Astarion had nothing to fear from Cazador ever again. He’d never be weak. Never have to answer to another ‘master’ for the rest of his days.  He’d take that power for himself and even be able to walk in the sun again.

The druid did have scars and tattoos. Dark, swirling lines of ink that Astarion was sure he was seeing things because there wasn’t any way that a tattoo could move like a shadow, and deep scars along his jaw, neck, and chest. There were more that Astarion couldn’t see in the position they were currently in, but if the chance to see more of the druid’s body came up, he certainly wasn’t going to turn it down. 

He didn’t know how many times he’d been fucked over however long it had been, but he certainly felt like the druid had only stopped because he’d tired- not because he was satisfied- with how much everything ached and how sore his ass felt. But the pain felt absolutely wonderful, and if he didn’t think he’d tear, he’d be tempted to rouse the other and ask to ride him properly. 

As if hearing his thoughts, dark green eyes opened slowly, taking in the way Astarion seemed to be exploring and cataloguing him. Astarion jerked his hand back, pressing it against his own chest with wide eyes. 

“Sorry! I wasn’t… doing anything weird to you. I promise. I just wanted to make sure that… that it was real.” he whispered, afraid that whatever spell was on the area would break and it truly would have been a dream. 

“Hmm… It was real. I am real.” That voice was entirely unfair, just as the hand cupping his jaw was. And it didn’t even scare him with those long, thick fingers carefully wrapped around his throat. “I saw inside you. Your thoughts and most recent pain. My shadows merged with the ones in your mind. The darkness in you is… delicious. And there is so much potential I found in you. If you’re able to do as you say, I will make sure this Cazador suffers for you.”

The elf’s voice was no longer gravelly. At least not as much as it had been that night after not being used for centuries. But it still thrilled the spawn. 

Astarion reached up, gently wrapping his own fingers around the wrist of the hand around his neck, just holding it there. He could feel the druid’s fingers pressing into the new claim bitten there. 

“I think you could be my equal. Take the power you deserve from him. And then we take back what was stolen from me.” the druid purred, shifting to lean over Astarion without moving his hand. “What do you say, little bat? Shall we begin?”

“Astarion.” the pale elf gasped out as Halsin leaned in closer.

A dark grin graced that devastatingly handsome face. 

“Halsin.” he purred back before gently kissing the spawn. 

Halsin was impressed by this one. There had been more than enough darkness in his heart and soul that the bound Shadowfell within Halsin had been able to break free of that damned curse without him having to fuck a statue. Though, Halsin was going to keep that grain of information to himself. Nobody with pure intentions of any kind could have freed him. Only someone broken and filled with rage and hatred could free him. Only someone who let the darkness consume their being, embraced it enough to come to him with intent to free him could do so. The locals over the years had added in the sex part to ward off anyone with an inclination to try. Nobody would be desperate enough to debase themselves like that. 

Until this little vampire had stumbled into his clearing and did just that. 

Depraved, dark, broken, and filled to bursting with rage and hate, with a drive for revenge. Astarion was perfect. Even facing potential death, he’d remained strong and resilient. It didn’t hurt that the other was so fucking pretty and writhed on his cock like he was made for it.

Oh yes. Halsin was going to keep this one. He’d make sure Astarion would never betray him like he had. He’d twist the other however much to ensure the vampire was so dependent on him that even after ascending, he’d never turn on Halsin. Never betray or leave him. Halsin would be his master. Even if the other never used the term. 

“You are… not what I expected.” Astarion breathed out as Halsin released his neck and kissed the light bruise that was slowly blooming. 

“Hmm? And what’s that? You expected to be ripped apart the second I was free?” Halsin couldn’t help but chuckle. “There’s still time if you like.” 

The blonde shook his head quickly, tentatively placing his hands on Halsin’s chest and licking his lips. 

“No, just… I’m not really sure what I expected… But not this, though. Not that I’m complaining!” 

Gods, the innocence the other seemed to have throughout this interaction was... Incredibly arousing in a way that Halsin hadn’t experienced before. How could someone with so much darkness in their soul sound like a virgin the morning after being deflowered?

He leaned in, shutting the other elf up with a demanding kiss. He called upon one of the few healing spells he knew to heal that lovely pale body. One of so few spells he knew that didn’t cause destruction, really. 

“You are entirely too tempting. Behaving like this.” he teased lowly, moving Astarion’s legs to settle between them. There was still a mess of oil and cum hidden at the elf’s core. The beast within him purred at the obviously well used hole. Not even the healing could hide how the other elf had been fucked for hours until Halsin had given into exhaustion. 

He’d claimed the elf. Astarion was his . The spawn was now the beast's mate in every way that mattered. And who was Halsin to deny such a simple statement of fact?

“Halsin? Wait I- oh! ”

Hands were in Halsin’s hair, tugging harshly at the first firm lick the druid gave to Astarion’s abused hole. He wanted to soothe the ache before he renewed it, after all. He didn’t try to clean him up. The mess would be needed to ease the way. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t torture the spawn a little. So he used a bit of magic to lick deep into the other- his tongue now much longer than it should be. But it seemed to be so very well received if the way Astarion’s voice jumped in pitch and back arched sharply. He fucked his tongue into Astarion’s body a few times before he pulled away.

Oh, the whine of disappointment that left his pretty little mate was such sweet fucking music to Halsin’s ears. He couldn’t leave his mate empty and wanting, now could he? He leaned back on his heels, bodily moving Astarion into his lap and sinking into him in one go. He reveled in the high keen that escaped the other’s throat and the way his back arched. 

The additional strength of the spawn’s grip at his thighs would bruise. And the fact that Halsin would bear bruises from coupling with his mate was almost enough to drive him feral with lust. A mate who could give as much as he took. Could challenge him in the bedroom. Oh, could Astarion outrun him? Would Halsin be able to hunt the other down before pinning him into the dirt and fucking him as was his right and prize?

Halsin was almost grateful for the curse as he fucked into the pale elf, eyes dark and a grin on his face. He pulled the other upright, swallowing the soft cry Astarion made as he sank even deeper. Gods, but he loved the feeling of getting even just a tiny bit deeper like that. Knowing that he was giving every possible inch and his mate took it so fucking well was heady like a bottle of strong wine. 

“You are perfect, little bat. My shining star in my darkness. I wish I could breed you.” he grunted into a pointed ear before biting the lobe. Nails bit into his shoulders as Astarion trembled against him, hips seemingly involuntarily rocking into Halsin’s short but deep thrusts in the position they were in. The vampire may seem overwhelmed, but his body and his voice screamed to Halsin that he was thoroughly enjoying the attention. 

“Will you take my knot, this time? You begged so sweetly for it before.” he cooed, hands gripping that perfect ass to lift and drop the elf onto his cock. “But I wanted you to be aware for the first time. To feel every second.”

“Fuck… Yes, I want it. Oh I want it, please! Shit… Halsin, breed me. Anything you want. Just don’t stop!” Astarion begged again, hands leaving Halsin’s shoulders. He moved one to tangle in those long wild locks at the back of Halsin’s head, the other cupping his face to be able to hold a proper gaze. “I need it… knot me, please, Halsin. ” he keened again, knees finding purchase to be able to drop himself harder when Halsin’s knot finally did start to make itself known. 

Part of Halsin was roaring in delight that his mate wanted so badly for it. A much smaller part worried and wondered if Astarion could even handle it. His hole was already stretched so much. Would it be able to take his knot locked into it?

With the way Astarion was moving and moaning like a highly paid whore, they were about to find out. But first…

The druid wrapped a hand around the spawn’s slender cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts in his tight fist. 

“Fuck… you feel so good around me. Cum for me, pet. I want to knot you when you cum.” he growled out, teeth clenched against his own pleasure. His knot was catching on the other’s rim, stretching it ever more with each thrust as it grew. “Cum for me and it’s all yours.” 

It only took another couple of strokes before Astarion was crying out Halsin’s name, voice hoarse and practically gone by that point, body like a vice around his cock. He yanked Astarion down as hard as he could before his knot grew too large to fit and came, biting into his shoulder as he locked into him. The flood of his seed wouldn't be leaking out this time. 

Astarion arched into him sharply, breath leaving him in a rush as his fingers clamped down where they’d stayed. It was clear that Astarion was pushed to the limit like this. So, in a bid to distract the other from any pain he might be feeling, Halsin did the most natural and sane thing any other normal person would do. 

He bit into his own wrist and pressed it to the vampire's mouth. Granted, sanity might have been out of his reach with how much of his brain was far and away from him and his heartbeat in his dick while buried in the most incredible body milking him for every drop he had to offer. 

That pleasure doubled with the first pull and gulp Astarion made the second the blood hit his tongue. All Halsin could do in response to it was shiver out another orgasm and send another wave into his mate with a gasp. 

“Mmnh, are you… alright?” he panted softly, pulling his arm away when it seemed like the other had relaxed into his hold and was no longer reflexively fighting the intrusion. He watched, transfixed as a blood soaked tongue slipped out and licked the sluggish trail of blood from Halsin’s elbow to his bleeding wrist. And when those ruby eyes opened and focused on Halsin’s face, he looked absolutely wrecked. He was fucked out and drunk on fresh blood. 

“You… taste exquisite, darling.” Astarion purred, leaning in for a filthy kiss that the shadow druid was more than happy to return as he leaned back to take the strain of remaining upright from both of them. 

“I’ve never had the blood of a thinking creature before…” And oh, that shouldn’t make his cock twitch once more but knowing that he was the first to feed his mate like this was more arousing than it had any right to be.

“Is that so? You’re free to feed from me whenever you need to.” he hummed back, licking the traces of his own blood from his lips. “Though, as much as I would enjoy staying here for a while longer, we should find a place to bathe and rest.”

Astarion yawned and nodded, relaxing fully across Halsin’s broad chest. “Indeed. However, I don’t think I could walk if my life depended on it, to be completely honest. You’ve gone and fucked mobility right out of me.” he snickered.

And Halsin felt a strange warmth in his chest at the simple fact that Astarion didn’t seem scared of him in the slightest. He acted like Halsin was no threat, no danger to him at all. Like he had every belief that he was safe with him. But he was right. Halsin had no desire to harm his mate. However, anyone else they came across… more than likely anyone else would simply be removed from their path permanently. 

Halsin snaked his arms around Astarion’s back, idly tracing scars he felt but didn’t comment on due to the way Astarion stiffened at the touch. The lack of inquiry seemed to cause him to relax again. A conversation for another time, it seemed. For now, he was content to relax and breathe in his mate. To breathe air again for the first time after so long. He could properly plan out his revenge. He could reclaim what had been his. He could reclaim everything that had been Astarion’s for him. Yes. He would take revenge, but he’d thank those that cursed him for enabling the growth of his power and bringing him to his mate. 

He wouldn’t be limited, this time. 

-

Astarion shivered in the water, letting Halsin gently pour more over him and scrub him clean after they’d gone just one more round after his knot had deflated. 

Gods, I’m going to be dreaming about that knot for the rest of my days when it’s not stuffed inside me. Astarion sighed with a dreamy smile. 

And to think, he’d been afraid of being ripped apart the second the curse was lifted, if it lifted. But here he was, being washed and groomed by his mate. A mate who swore revenge and power on his behalf. A mate strong enough to protect him against anything. A mate that would relish in ripping Cazador’s still beating heart out of his chest only to turn and offer it to Astarion to devour should he so choose. 

With the shadow druid pressed against him, the cold of the water did seem farther away. The man absolutely radiated heat like he had an infernal fire blazing at his core despite the darkness he wielded without mercy. Even in the face of the horrors he’d heard about, the fear he’d felt in the beginning, seeing the darkness in the other, he’d never felt more protected. He’d never felt more safe in his entire life than he did in that moment with a feared and powerful man that had been merciless in his pursuit for power. 

He could understand that, though. Having power meant no one could hurt you or control you. And he wanted that for himself. 

Astarion sighed and leaned back, feeling those hot arms circle around him and hands starting to wash his front. 

“What are you thinking about, little bat?” Halsin rumbled softly, bowing his head enough to place a gentle kiss to his shoulder. 

“Nothing, really. Just the future.” he mused with a sigh before he turned in those safe arms and began to return the favor of washing. “How different it’s going to be from the past century or so I’ve known.” he continued, moving around to get at the man’s back. When was the last time he’d bathed?

“Hmm, indeed. I didn’t see a lot, but what I did see in your shadows enraged me.”

Astarion hummed again, fingers dancing along a winding scar from a battle fought long ago. “He put the scars on my back.” he whispered. “Carved them in one night, making corrections as he went.” He caught sight of Halsin’s fists clenching by his sides. “I found a scroll the night I ran. Cazador intends to ascend. Sacrifice me and the other spawn he sent to do his bidding to attain immeasurable power.” blood red eyes jumped up from the scar on the druid’s back to catch his eyes as Halsin turned his head to see him. 

“I want it for myself. He doesn’t deserve to have such power. He’s only ever commanded others to do his work for him. To stroke his ego, praise him, feed and dress him. He’s never done a thing himself.” he spat, hands going to Halsin’s chest when the other turned to fully face him. He leaned his face into one of his hands when it was cupped, eyes fluttering shut at the light touch. The comfort.

“And you shall have it. You risked daylight to get to me. You debased yourself without knowing if your actions would work. You risked being discovered during such a depraved act. But it worked. Your darkness and shadows connected with mine. Fed into mine so I could break free, overpower the curse. You promised the information I would need in order to exact my own revenge in exchange for yours. The least I can do is give you power over your enemies.” Halsin replied, tilting his head. 

“I thought I was unable to feel hope again. To have anything to look forward to.” Astarion chuckled, grinning up at the other. 

He bit his lip gently, anticipation rising in his breast. 

“When I get my hands on some paper and ink, I’ll write down everything I know. Every name and location you could ever need to hunt down the bastards that trapped you and left you to fade into nothing and allow the world to forget your name.” he giggled a little, feeling so much bubbling up inside him with just the slightest bit of delirium. So many emotions over such a short amount of time. Exhaustion was just around the corner, he knew. 

“I am in no rush. So long as we can find them, I’ll relish a slow and methodical hunt. Word will spread between them. And their fear will fester. The stronger their fear, the stronger my magic.”

A cruel grin spread across Halsin’s mouth, swiping his tongue over his teeth- his canines giving Astarion’s a run for their money with how sharp they were. It was no wonder he’d been able to bite through Astarion’s skin. Said spawn swallowed reflexively at the memory. 

“I can’t wait to witness what you have in store for them.” he whispered, leaning up a bit to close the distance between them for a soft and rather chaste kiss. 

He couldn’t help the soft little whimper that left him when Halsin pulled him flush against that hard body and gently tugged his hair. Gods, he couldn’t possibly go again so soon! Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Halsin had plans farther than the kiss because he slowly released him and gave him room to breathe. 

“I need food and drink. It’s been too long since I’ve had a good ale and I’m craving red meat.”

“The bloodier the better.” Astarion quipped without thought before laughing at the surprised but pleased smile on Halsin’s face. 

“Hmm, indeed, little bat.” the druid playfully snapped his teeth at Astarion’s neck before they eventually made their way back to shore, drying and dressing. The vampire couldn’t help but yawn, feeling the weight of exhaustion from the past few days hitting him all at once. The excruciating torture before he’d fled, the draining journey to a place that might not have even existed, fearing he’d not find shelter from the sun each morning, scarce animals for blood… And then getting fucked every which way conceivable by an ancient and powerful shadow druid bent on making up for lost time.

He blinked slowly at the other, watching as he held a hand out for a strange shadowy raven to land. He spoke with it, the bird replying in low tones before it took off, Halsin watching it fly away before those dark eyes were on him again. And it was such a shame that he hadn’t seen Astarion at his best for a first impression… He was always so good about maintaining a good appearance. Clean, regal, perfect. It was nothing less than what he was required to present, after all. 

As it was, all Halsin would see in that moment is Astarion bedraggled and unkempt. Dirty and bloody from his journey. Clothes shredded and hanging off of him. Granted, after washing up the only part that was dirty and bloody were said clothes still barely covering him. He self consciously wrapped his arms around himself, uselessly tugging his shredded shirt closer around his body as best as he could, shoulders hunching in a bit as he dropped his gaze and his head tipped away. He swallowed thickly, feeling the far from not-unfamiliar burn of shame wash over him. 

And then Halsin’s impossibly hot hand was cupping his chin, forcing him to look up and make eye contact. 

“You are ashamed. Don’t be. You don’t need to feel anything negative about yourself anymore. You’re better than any other being out there. Outside of the two of us, you are superior to all. One word and any who displease you will turn to shadow and dust. They will serve you without complaint or thought. You are the only one I have ever had the thought of ‘equal’ cross my mind. Your darkness is exquisite , my heart. Whatever is left of my heart, if I have one, is yours to claim, now. And you are mine . I will burn the world to the ground if it would please you.” he promised with another kiss. Though still rather chaste, it held so much fire and passion that Astarion was surprised he didn’t burn up under it all. And then a chill engulfed him, climbing up from the ground and swirling around from where Halsin had his hand pressed to his chest. 

What was left of his clothes fell away as the larger elf used the Shadowfell to create armor right on Astarion’s body. The garment warmed up, no longer cold but not quite as hot as Halsin ran, as the shadows fell away.

When he looked down he gasped, eyes wide and hands running over what remained. He’d never seen anything like it before. At first glance it looked like Drow light armor, but there was so much more to it. He could feel Halsin’s magic and power woven in it. The belts across his chest rather looked like slashes left from a bear claw, one pauldron shaped like a silver wolf head with blazing red eyes. His gauntlets looked like several vine serpents coiled and ready to strike. Around his waist was an incredibly soft pelt, longer on one hip than the other; he could only recall the style being used with sashes on the hips of highly paid courtesans and dancers. 

He barely got a look at the rest before he was in Halsin’s arms once more, the breath being kissed from him as a cowl was pushed from his head. “My dark assassin. You look the part now. You’ll be able to call upon my shadows, move through the Shadowfell short distances for advantageous positions for combat when we encounter it. You will become feared and respected, the whimpering masses whispering your name, never speaking too loud for fear you will appear and strike them down for daring to do so.” he rumbled, pleased with how good the armor looked on Astarion. 

And Astarion could truly get used to this kind of treatment. This almost reverent affection. To think, this powerful and feared man was nothing more than a horny teddy bear with him.

He couldn’t help but grin at the thought, reaching up and tracing over one of the dark lines of a tattoo on his druid’s face. “There’s so much about you lost to time. Is there anything you can’t do with your power?” he asked with a playful grin. “What creatures can you turn into?”

“Any creature of darkness. Creatures that put others on edge at the thought of. I’ll be sure to show off as we travel. I’m sure a wolf, bear, or owlbear can cover more ground than we can on foot.”

Astarion just nodded in agreement, blown away at the fact Halsin would stoop to let him ride him like a common horse while wild shaped. 

“Now, shall we find a tavern for a hot meal and cold drink?” Halsin stated rather than questioned, taking Astarion’s hand and heading in the direction that he could feel the most life at the edges of his Shadowfell. 

-

This was something Halsin had dearly missed. The sudden hush that fell over a room the moment he walked in. Anything with half a brain could sense the danger radiating off of him. The swirl of dark power that flowed around him like smoke. These people had no idea who he was, but they knew better than to cross him. 

And with Astarion shifting from behind him to beside him… Witnessing his own gradual transformation from beaten and nearly broken to coming into confidence and assurance of his worth was indescribable. He’d long since stopped creating with his power, realizing that one couldn’t work alongside the cities and grow together. Couldn’t coexist with the greed of humans and their like and their stone cities. So he’d decided to destroy them the way they destroyed Nature. When one truly looked, Nature destroyed. Nature would reclaim if given the chance, would split roads, find cracks to sprout through, vines would climb walls, and ‘pests’ would always find a way to infiltrate homes and businesses. 

So why should he try to always take the high road and negotiate increasingly unfair terms with them? Constantly lose ground and have to kowtow to those who disrespected the natural order of things?

No. He refused to let others walk all over him and take advantage of kindness. 

So he’d turned to the shadows. He didn’t even recall how it had happened. His normally lighthearted personality had darkened, his heart grew hard, thoughts turned violent. And then his magic turned. It was normally a bright green, full of pure joy for nature. But one day, he’d called forth vines meant to restrict, just to entangle, but they’d sprouted black and dark green, and they twisted around the intruders before strangling them. He’d never seen the spell do anything close to it before then. 

But he couldn’t help but wonder after his initial instinct had him recoil and drop the spell… What could the rest of his spells do? So he’d found goblins and drow slavers to experiment. Each attempt and spell cast with that dark intent created darker colors, darker spells, more violence than normally gentle druidic magic called forth. Hail of Thorns brought down spiked missiles that exploded and the shrapnel burrowed into their targets. Entangle turned straight into strangulation as it had first appeared to do. His wild-shape forms had also changed, becoming more violent creatures. More predatory creatures. 

All of his spells were suddenly on the extreme end of violence. He could split the ground to swallow enemies instead of just turning the terrain unsteady, fog clouds grew thick and suffocating, earth binding dragged enemies through soft terrain with a mere flick of the wrist, and he could cause adversaries to flake and turn to dust with a look and intention focused on Wither rather than Bloom.

He’d never felt so powerful before. No matter how much he’d prayed to Silvanus for guidance and the strength to work towards balance with the progression of the cities and humans, he’d never truly felt heard. 

But the shadows… The shadows bolstered him, brought him to a level he could truly fight for Nature and reclaim what had been taken from it. And he did. Almost reaching the power of a god if the whispers were to be believed. Though it was hard to argue against the thought, Halsin was only going to grow stronger. More so with a strong mate and partner beside him. Despite how spoiled and damaged the other had been convinced he was in his memories, he doubted it would take much to convince the vampire to leave material luxuries behind. Especially with how desperately he wanted to walk in the sun. To never fear being outside of a city that provided some kind of shelter at every turn. He’d never want to be without the sun on his skin again, never want to lock himself up in a dark manor and live in the dark. 

How desperate he was to be cherished despite that self hatred.

Astarion was the only light Halsin wanted to see in his darkness. They may be new to one another, but like recognized like. And there was no doubt in his mind that Astarion was the one person in existence that would understand him and would climb to new heights alongside him.

Turning to look at him in the tavern, watching the realization dawn on that lovely face and the way those blood red eyes darkened with restrained satisfaction only made Halsin rumble in approval. Halsin could easily read that the elf was realizing that he had power by merely standing beside him, seeing just what lay ahead of him with attaining that power for himself as well. 

“Ah… Haven’t seen the two of you around before.” the barkeep piped up, fighting the obvious urge of flight and standing his ground to do his job. 

Halsin looked to the man, taking in his scent and then the surprisingly well cared for potted plants lining the shelves behind him. Granted most of them seemed to be herbs or manageable vegetables, they were still tended to. 

He took a slow breath and stepped up to the bar, leaning on the counter to be closer to the man’s height. “What meals do you have? I haven’t eaten in a very long time.” He listened as the man rattled off a few options before ordering one of each. As well as a couple of pitchers of wine. 

When they sat, Astarion sat close to him and leaned in to whisper. “Halsin? I… I don’t have any money to be able to pay…” he admitted, wincing a little with the reflexive wave of shame that washed over him. He wasn’t used to being without any sort of gold at all.

Though the way he blinked owlishly at the pouch Halsin set on the table before him, heavy with gold. “Do you think they rifled through my pockets while I was stone?” he chuckled softly. “If my den wasn’t discovered, there’s more to be found there. I promised you would want for nothing, that I would provide for you as my mate. I wasn’t merely putting on a show.” he chuckled, patting the pouch back into the small satchel on his hip.

“O-oh! Well… I suppose that works out just fine.” Astarion laughed, turning to lean on the table and fidget with his fingers. 

Halsin reached out, covering both pale, slender hands with one large hand. “You do not answer to any of these people. You do not need to fear taking space for yourself. I can see the way you avoid their eyes. Say the word and I will rip their eyes from their heads for daring to look at you.” he murmured softly, kissing the spawn’s ear gently. 

Astarion’s breath hitched slightly before he turned his head just enough to see the druid from the corner of his eye. “I don’t think that will be necessary… at least not before dessert.” he huffed out a breathy laugh. 

The two polished off every morsel of food that had been brought out a short while later, the wine following as quickly before they were led to a room with a surprisingly nice bed. Before either of them knew it, they were wrapped around one another and out like a lantern in the comfort of a proper bed. Halsin’s shadows practically sealed off the room to anyone not bound to him so he wasn’t worried in the slightest about intruders coming for them in their sleep. He never felt the need to sleep with one eye open so to speak. His magic never failed him.

–

The first of the mages on the list Astarion provided to Halsin hadn’t begged for his life. He was far older than he should have been, outliving his family by at least a century. He was, once again, the last of his line. So he had merely welcomed Halsin’s vengeance with a soft smile. At least until he realized that he wasn’t going to be with his family in whatever afterlife he believed in. Halsin ripped apart his essence, absorbing all of the darkness in the wizard's heart, and any power that had been fostered with less than good intentions. 

At least that’s what he’d explained to Astarion as they hunted him down. How he’d grown his power so much over the years before being cursed and bound to stone. He took the darkness and shadows in someone’s heart and the magic poured into spells learned with malicious intent. His shadows fed on it, grew stronger, darker, and made Halsin that much more without corrupting him. For he was using Dark Nature to reclaim in its name. He wasn’t using the magic out of malice. He hadn’t been corrupted with the shadows.

And knowing that Halsin wasn’t necessarily inherently evil put Astarion’s heart at ease, let him breathe a bit easier about proclaiming his allegiance and loyalty to the druid. 

It wasn’t that he was against being a little evil. Hells, he knew exactly what he was going to need to do in order to ascend. But indiscriminate killing was a bit outside of Astarion’s wheelhouse. Too much even for him to stomach. The stories told about Halsin’s cruelty, turning every living being to shadows. Looking back on the stories and connecting them to the man next to him made him really rethink the level of cruelty that he’d been said to have. After all, people even today thought Cazador was a relatively decent man if a bit eccentric and over the top. They knew nothing of the depth of his cruelty. 

And so far, traveling with Halsin, watching the Shadowfell grow and take over more land– land that he’d driven the selfish people that destroyed and trampled over Nature out of– he felt like he was restoring a bit of balance. Not enough people feared what Nature was truly capable of. They feared the weather, of course. Storms of all varieties in all seasons caused untold damage. But those same people failed to remember how Nature grows and the creatures she commands. Halsin relished in reminding them.

As they made their way to locate the second spell caster– a warlock this time– whispers were starting up once more. That the ruthless Shadow Druid was back. The history turned legend turned myth was real as ever and had returned to finish what he’d started. Astarion even heard whispers about himself now. And not what he was used to hearing, at all. 

People were afraid of him now. They caught sight of him slipping through the shadows as he headed towards a target. At the moment, his targets were either goblins (for obvious reasons) or bandits. Sometimes they were creatures too gnarled and twisted from what they once were, what they were meant to be. But those who caught a brief glimpse of a strip of pale skin and glowing red eyes knew who he was. Knew that he was the druid's consort, his partner, his mate.

He didn’t have to feel the slimy, lingering gaze of strangers lusting after him. Strangers that he would have to take back to his former master and then deal with his gaze and his touch. 

But he would never go back to that man. Not in submission or supplication. He had a taste of the power he would have with Halsin. And he would never go back to the scraps he was thrown before. The more he fed from Halsin, the more he could feel a connection with him. A bond forming between them. They’d discussed it and come to the conclusion that one day they even began to share abilities, call upon each other’s power in times of need. They would be as much one being as they could without sharing a body. 

And that idea sat very well in Astarion’s chest. Belonging to someone as much as they belonged to him. Never having to face eternity alone or cowering. 

Not to mention the sex was fantastic. It was easy to get Halsin riled up. It was clear to see that he very much liked watching Astarion sneak up behind a distracted target to slit their throat with a wild grin on his face. Halsin usually liked to lick away any blood that sprayed or smeared across his spawn’s skin. 

“After this one, we will find your former ‘master’ .” Halsin practically spit the word out. He’d voiced many times that he detested that Astarion, a creature of the dark and shadow, had been forced to do the things he’d described. Instead of being treated as valuable. Halsin was well aware that you only planted the seeds of resentment and hatred when treated as a tool and used until you were about to break against the ground. 

“I want the others to sit and fester in their fear as word continues to spread of my return and the shadow assassin at my side. I want their darkness and fear to take over before we kill them.” Unfortunately there wasn’t a way for them to strike fear into Cazador. 

Unbeknownst to them, however, that very vampire had begun to hear the whispers, the description of the nameless pale elf that could sneak into any building, any room, no matter how tightly locked. He knew that was Astarion’s specialty. Intimately knew the man’s description. He didn’t think that his spawn would be ballsy enough to come after him, though. Not with the knowledge that the moment he could hear Cazador’s voice he was under his master’s control once more. That he could order the spawn to kill his lover (because, honestly, why else would someone keep him around if all he did was pick locks and pick off easy prey. If the stories were true, the Shadow Druid had more than enough power to rip doors open and kill whomever he was after) before he was sacrificed to empower Cazador.

Astarion hummed, playing with the dagger he’d gotten in the last town– one he was eager to test out with the necrotic properties--in response to Halsin’s plan. 

“They deserve to sweat a bit, anyways. They all thought they’d conquered you. Now they know better.” Astarion smirked, sheathing the dagger as they neared the city where their next target resided. It wouldn’t be conducive to be stopped by guards simply because he was playing with his new toy. 

They entered the small city (really it was more of a large village than a small city) with relative ease, Halsin drawing the immediate shadows back but still allowing the rest to stretch high above them to continue to protect Astarion. Of course the added benefit was creating a feeling of unease as the sun was slowly blotted out, the warmth of the light unable to penetrate through the darkness. 

Astarion relished the way people stopped to look up and then around to see if there was an explanation. Once their gazes landed on the pair of them, nervous energy gathered and many took flight. Very few were rooted to the spot. The spawn took a breath and hummed, licking his lips. Halsin had taught him how to scent different emotions. Halsin was obviously his favorite scent (Whatever emotion he was feeling so long as it was him ), followed by arousal, and then fear.

These people’s fear smelled delicious .

That fear prevented anyone from blocking their path, practically pointing them in the direction they needed to go as roads cleared with each turn and step. Of course this warlock was pretentious enough to have an actual tower. As if he thought himself a wizard that deserved such a monument. 

At least, from what Astarion gathered about Cazador, wizards thought themselves above other spell casters because they studied the art instead of being born with the ability to use the weave. All the experience did was turn Astarion off from wizards entirely. Warlocks were a close second with their attitudes about their borrowed power. It wasn’t even truly their power. With Astarion’s new outlook on gaining power… it just made warlocks look incredibly weak to him. This one was no different. Even without his own power he was still far above this man. 

He stifled a snicker when Halsin knocked on the door oh so politely, the gesture merely executed to cause even more panic. The next thing Astarion knew, Halsin was kicking the door in and vines were rushing through to fill the rooms. The vines sought out their prey, locating exactly where the pair needed to go in order to have a little chat. 

Vines thinned out to allow Halsin inside, thick branches wrapping around the tower to provide Astarion a ramp to the window of the room where the warlock was fighting off the vines. 

The spawn could hear Halsin calling out in a sing-song voice, mocking his prey, when he reached the window and perched outside to await his opening. 

“Oh, Magnusen! My friend, I'm just here to visit and have a little chat. Catch up and reminisce about the good old days.” Halsin’s voice dropped into a growl as he entered the room, shadows rushing in and snuffing every candle lit in the space. The eerie glow coming off of the vines, shadows, and Halsin was the only illumination. One small vine reached up the window, unlatching the lock to let the assassin slip in silently. 

“You weren’t supposed to awaken. You were supposed to be trapped for eternity.”

“Mm…” Halsin brought a hand up, examining it front and back before looking to the warlock with a thoroughly unimpressed expression. “Didn’t seem to work very well. Your magic is weak. At least against me. The innocents that fell victim to other magics you’ve latched onto, however…

“How many bodies have you stolen and transmitigated into in order to preserve your lifespan?” he snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. 

At that, Astarion took a good look at the warlock, Magnusen. He looked human, and quite young for a human that was said to have sealed Halsin away centuries ago . Halsin’s conclusion made sense. Magnusen had been stealing the lifespan of others by transferring their beings. He wasn’t sure what spells were involved but the amount of dark magic and energy in this man was likely to be astounding.

He couldn’t wait to see what that much could do for Halsin. Watching him essentially play with his food was doing plenty for Astarion if he were completely honest. Witnessing such an act under these circumstances was intoxicating. He knew Halsin could see him. That he could feel exactly where he was within the embrace of those masterfully controlled shadows. So he knew it was seen when Astarion lowered the mask on his face and smirked at him with a lick of his lips. Oh, he was so going to ride that man into the ground tonight. 

Halsin’s nostrils flared and his eyes flashed, signaling to Astarion that the message had been well received. 

“You don’t understand. They were nothing! They did nothing to help society advance. They begged on the streets and created more garbage than they were worth! They dirtied the streets.” he sneered. “I just made it so they’d done something great with their miserable lives.”

Halsin laughed, a low and dangerous thing. “And you would condemn me for bettering and defending Nature. Stating you are better does not mean you are better.” he growled, bringing a hand up and calling for the vines to twist around Magnusen. “Stealing a life is base. Claiming it and taking its power? That is what can make you better.” He tilted his head and Astarion answered, stepping up behind the bound warlock. 

“You see, something wonderful about the shadows, dear warlock, is the fact that it’s so difficult for deities and patrons to get through. Yours is going to have a hell of a time getting here before you’re dead.” he tsked and shook his head, smirking at Halsin before bringing his blade up. He leaned in and whispered his thanks, however. “I should be thanking you, though. If you hadn’t trapped him, I wouldn’t have had the chance to find him and free him. To get power of my own.” 

And then the dagger was oh so slowly eased into the man’s throat, right at the dip at the base. It was sharp enough (and Astarion was strong enough) that it cut right through his chest when Astarion brought the blade down. A rather dramatic end to split him open. And dramatic was barely enough to describe what happened. 

The first target had welcomed death. This one? Oh, this one tried to fight it tooth and nail. Magic burst out of him, swirling lights in all colors wound up bleeding together into one black mass. His body seemed to burst outward and then imploded on itself and disappeared. He was sure there was something to do with magic, pacts, and broken laws of some kind. He couldn’t care less. But the black sphere in the room, hovering before drifting towards Halsin’s open palm, drew his gaze. 

Something called to him, then. From inside the sphere. He stepped toward it, not realizing his eyes had glazed over a bit, and reached out to try and touch. He would have had one of Halsin’s vines, without thorns, gently wrapped around his middle and bodily lifted him away. It was only after Halsin allowed the sphere to engulf him and sink into him that Astarion was suddenly aware of where he was. Which was a few feet from where he last remembered being. 

“Halsin?” he asked in a soft voice, brows furrowed as he looked to his lover as the man approached. 

Halsin reached for him, cupping his face and kissing him softly. “The darkness in a person calls to them. When there is so much, like he had, it calls to others. I can teach you to ignore the call and tame it for yourself.” he explained and promised in equal measure, stealing another impossibly soft kiss. “You were beautiful.”

And just like that, Astarion was righted and grinning up at his mate. 

–

Halsin could clearly see that Astarion was fighting terror as they neared Cazador's manor. It was a bit tricky to get into the city undetected. But Astarion knew his way around, of course. Knew where guards posted, where they overlooked, where he could slip through the cracks. They’d waited until nightfall, so Astarion felt even more confidence that the sun couldn’t suddenly penetrate through the Shadowfell. Not that he’d ever doubted Halsin’s power. He’d assured so genuinely that Halsin hadn’t been offended in the least. 

Halsin understood that fear made one paranoid about weaknesses suddenly overpowering them. Fear interfered with logic. But soon, his darling mate wouldn’t have to worry about the sun even without Halsin’s shadows. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything. 

He let Astarion take the lead on this one. It was imperative that Astarion face this head on. That he be the one to initiate and strike the final blow. Halsin, of course, would back him up every step of the way. He wasn’t about to let the spawn go in there alone. 

“Are you ready, my little bat?” he asked as they reached the front door, wrapping his arms around him from behind and kissing his neck right over his own claiming mark. A gentle reminder that Cazador didn’t own Astarion anymore. Astarion proudly wore a mark he had allowed another to place. He’d been willing to submit to the mark, even. Cazador had just taken what didn’t belong to him. 

Astarion shivered and relaxed at the attention, taking a breath and nodding. “Yes. I want to see the look on his face as I rip his heart from his chest.” he practically snarled. And Halsin could not have been more proud of the elf. Despite the fear and uncertainties, the fact that Cazador would be able to control him (not that Halsin was going to give him a chance to do so) when he got within earshot, Astarion remained resolute. He was going to take back what was his. 

It was strange, being in such an opulent place that felt more like a funeral home than anything else. Even Halsin could tell that this was someone’s attempt to flaunt wealth and status but missing the mark just enough to fall straight into tacky and ostentatious. The only thing missing were nude statues of women hand feeding fat old men grapes off the vine.

It took a bit of effort, but eventually they cornered Cazador. They’d chased him down into a vault Astarion had never even had an inkling existed deep within the belly of the place. The scroll Astarion had found on the main floor however many feet above them was neatly placed in Cazador's hand being twirled around. 

“You think you can take this from me? Do you think that you have any sort of power over me ?” the sniveling elf taunted with a pitched laugh that set Halsin’s teeth on edge. His shadows ripped around his and Astarion’s form as rage began bubbling inside him. 

“You took everything from me. I’m here to take it back. And to take your ascension from you.” 

Halsin mused about the idea that he and Astarion had switched roles, in a sense. He had been the one taunting and distracting their targets while Astarion snuck in close. Cazador was so wrapped up in Astarion and his ritual rather than the fact the shadows of the cavern were slowly growing darker and reaching towards the platform they stood on. 

Astarion clocked it though gave no outward sign that he did. He stepped towards the vampire, snarling at him. 

“Aw, pretty little Astarion. Snapping his teeth like a sad little puppy. I own you, boy. I control you.” Cazador spat, wielding a staff when the spawn rushed at him. 

The two had spoken about Cazador's control. What he could make Astarion do, what he had made Astarion do in the past. Halsin had been warned about it. So he’d weaved a bit more magic into Astarion’s cowl to help him resist the vampiric control, the vampiric charm, that Cazador held over his head. And it worked. 

Astarion had been frozen for all of a second before he was continuing forward to slice his dagger through Cazador's cheek. The cry of pain followed by a sickening sizzling sound as the necrotic enchantment took effect was music to Halsin’s ears. 

“You will pay for that, you insolent roach!” 

Watching the emotions play on Astarion’s face as he realized that Cazador couldn’t control him was more than worth being stone for centuries. Halsin had never seen such hunger for violence on another than he did on Astarion’s face. He was so enraptured that he almost didn’t catch the bats, undead, and werewolves that Cazador summoned. Though they were all swallowed by the Shadowfell quite suddenly. Halsin wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of Astarion getting the revenge he deserved to take. 

“What…” the vampire looked around, finally taking note of the encroaching darkness and how the druid that had followed Astarion in radiated the same power. He swallowed, eyes darting all over as he tried to think of a way to save himself. 

Halsin didn’t do Astarion injustice by restraining Cazador. Instead he created an impenetrable dome so the vampire couldn’t escape if he tried. He was truly trapped in there with Astarion and the only way out was if Halsin dropped the vines. Which meant that Cazador was to die one way or another.

Though, just because he was inevitably going to die here, didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for the pair. He quickly shifted to mist, materializing behind Astarion and swiping his claws at the spawn. But damned if a vine hadn’t lifted the bastard up and out of his reach. And the damned beast even had the gall to laugh, delighted at the sudden back up. The vampire could only be grateful that the druid wasn’t joining in on the fight. Only helping the slut of a partner he’d chosen. Because that’s the only reason Astarion would have someone so powerful backing him. He’d have to have spread his legs as it was the only thing he knew to do as far as Cazador was concerned. 

With the knowledge that he would always have a quick way out of reach of Cazador’s staff and knowing exactly what kind of magic the other used, Astarion had a huge burst in confidence that he would come out on top with barely a scratch. He was already agile, dexterous enough to leap from one moving vine to another and get in close to his prey before dancing away with glee. Cazador only ever bothered to master ranged magic, spells that were useless in close combat. The vampire preferred keeping his enemies at bay, keeping them away from having the chance to land a hit. 

But his cockiness and assumption he’d have bodily control over Astarion had been his downfall. 

Soon, he was covered in dozens of slices with that damned necrotic blade, skin sizzling as if he were standing in scattered sunlight. He just needed to get one hit on Astarion. Regain control and complete the ritual. He wouldn’t have to worry about the little bastard anymore. And he’d be able to take down the druid while he was at it. 

However, in the time it took him to calculate exactly what he needed to do, Astarion and Halsin took advantage of his momentary distraction. Astarion was given a boost off of a vine that was bucking him towards Cazador, blades poised. A clean slice through the vampire's throat sent him to the ground, sputtering. With the threat neutralized, Halsin read off a scroll to spare the dying, rendering Cazador unconscious rather than dead. He was needed alive to complete the ritual, after all. 

They wasted no time, then. Halsin dropped the dome, providing another scroll he’d used to transcribe the scars on Astarion’s back so he could carve them onto Cazador. The other favored spawn were still held aloft under the spell, unaware as Cazador was dragged to the spot intended for their ‘brother’.

Astarion could breathe, finally, holding that staff and approaching Cazador as he stirred just enough to focus his eyes.

“You tried to break me. And you nearly did, that’s the damndest thing! And now you get to die, knowing that everything you tried to take is mine, now. You’ve lost everything to the very spawn you thought was the most worthless.” he laughed, eyes turning to Halsin with glee. The druid was smiling at him in return, tilting his head and waiting patiently while the pale elf relished this moment. A moment that was long overdue. 

It felt like it should have taken longer, casting the spell. But Astarion figured that was just how some things went. Though… the power that just slammed into him was so much more than he ever could have imagined. He felt like he was about to burst, skin feeling too tight before something in him gave way. 7000 souls giving you life changed your very core, every particle that made up your existence. He nearly gave into the urge to scream, until he felt Halsin’s impossibly warm hands at his back, bracing him as he bowed backwards. Those same hands caught him as he suddenly collapsed, gasping for air. He trembled as he felt Halsin stroking through his hair- such a soft gesture he hadn’t been sure the druid was capable to be honest. 

“You did well, little bat. Absorbing even one soul is incredibly taxing to one who has never done it before. But you handled so many. And you were exquisite.” he purred in one long pointed ear, nipping the tip of it. Astarion shivered for a new reason, getting his feet under him in order to turn and use his newly increased strength to pull him into a desperate kiss. 

Astarion spread his legs one final time in that accursed place, welcoming his druid oh so eagerly.

By the time they finished, Astarion’s stamina enabled him to keep up with Halsin now, the sun was rising. The druid was standing just outside of the doors, fully in the sun, with a hand extended behind him to Astarion. 

The spawn… no. He was a Vampire Ascendant now. He was far superior to what he used to be. Though that didn’t mean he was going to blindly walk into the sun after knowing exactly what would happen if he did even twelve hours prior. He stood at the edge of the shadows, catching Halsin’s eyes. Those dark and beckoning eyes. Astarion reached out slowly, braced for the sun to burn his skin the second his fingers were bathed in the golden light. 

A breath left him in a rush when all he felt was the warmth the light provided, grasping onto the offered hand tightly as he joined his lover in the light of day. He watched the sunrise until his eyes burned only in the same way it would have any other normal being. He turned his face away, laughing into Halsin’s shoulder while strong arms circled around his waist. 

“You look divine in the sunlight, darling.” Halsin murmured softly, though the Shadowfell did eventually slightly settle around them. It would always be present, Halsin’s connection to it being impossible to force it away. Not that either of them really wanted to banish it. It was as much a part of Halsin as his own druidic powers. Halsin just didn’t have to gather it around them, tightly, to protect Astarion anymore. 

Astarion hummed, blinking to focus on the city as it began waking up. He grinned wickedly. “We have a couple of people to visit here. Feel up to some house calls before we go shopping?” he asked playfully, already knowing exactly where they needed to go in the city to pick off another two names on Halsin’s list.

Halsin’s answering grin was a thing of beauty, a growl escaping his chest as he nodded. “Lead the way, my heart.”