Chapter Text
Since that night things had been quiet for Astarion, barely a whisper from his vampiric master. A blessing in disguise he told himself, though the shivers down his spine when his campmates wandered behind him or the panic in his eyes when shadows crept up the walls of his tent would beg to differ. He tried to focus on other things; that silly book he found, Gale trying and failing spectacularly to woo the bard, Halsin’s grainy voice explaining the importance of nature. But the feeling lingered and put him in a state of constant unease.
One unforeseen issue with this newfound revelation was that it was slowing him down. It becomes exceedingly difficult to trance when every whisper, every step, every raindrop makes you jump out of your skin in panic. He lay in his tent, completely still all night listening for any insignificant sounds. Each chirp of a grasshopper made him shiver in worry. His mind spiraled for the third sleepless night this week. He stared up into the crimson cotton of his tent, the screams of his siblings filling his ears, his scars aching and his eyes straining as he forced himself to stay awake. He would not sleep, his master could not have him again.
The sudden clanging of pots and pans from the campfire brought him back to reality as their resident wizard started on breakfast. A waft of bacon came through the entrance to his fabric enclosure as he sighed, sitting up. A throb filled his skill and he groaned softly to himself, his eyes stinging and fingers spasming from the forcible effort of staying out of trance.
He came out of the tent, stretching out the aches and bad memories, focusing on the warmth of the morning sun kissed his skin, welcoming him into the blissful morning. Tav was wandering around the camp, greeting their campmates brightly. His red hair burnt brilliantly in the sunrise and his eyes, filled with excitement, focused on the Githyanki, who most certainly did not match his energy. As he gazed around the camp, his line of sight found the druid, had just awoken. His hair was messy, and his eyes had only just blinked the remaining trance away, making Astarion chuckle as he viewed him with a warmth he had not felt for an ancient amount of time. The druid waved, his tired arm touching his hair and realising the state it was in. A surprised gasp left his mouth before he ducked back into his tent to sort out his appearance.
“Wow, Astarion, you look like you had a wild night. If you weren’t dead already, I’d say you were on the verge of it.” The petulant tone of the bard came into his field of sound, making the vampire jump. Astarion quickly scoffed.
“Gods, if only it were as ‘wild’ as you suggest.” he started, his hands finding a familiar stance on his hips.
“There was a bloody noisy grasshopper outside my tent all night, it would not shut up and I couldn't find the bugger either. Didn’t get a wink of sleep,” he grumbled. The bard laughed loudly, slapping his shoulder with amusement
“Get an early night tonight if you can, you look like you need it.” He smiled, before going into the plans for today.
Today was aimed to be one of the last in this dingy part of the Sword Coast. Having recently picked up an owl bear and having discovered the entrance to the Underdark, it made sense to plan to move under the earth and face the drow. Astarion checked he had equipped himself with potions, daggers, and his trusty lightning bow. As he stood up straight, his spine cracking, the druid finally made his welcomed appearance, albeit with concern.
“Are you sure you are well enough to adventure today, Astarion?” Halsin spoke, standing within Astarion's peripheral. Astarion huffed.
“Please, a night without sleep isn’t going to kill me. We have things to do and goblins to chop darling, now if you’ll excuse me.” he smirked, heading toward the ‘adventure squad’ as Karlach has so eloquently named them. Before he could move too far, a small bottle was placed in his palm.
“Take it when you need some more energy. It’s not a cure, but it’ll do in a pinch.” The druid smiled, the worry still firmly in his brow. Astarion looked at the bottle. The liquid was sky blue and looked like it was bursting to leave its transparent container. The vampire nodded at the druid before taking his leave.
Their adventures had proven prosperous. They found the hidden Zhentarim base and managed to acquire some greatly needed upgrades. They discovered that not only had the Ulder Ravenguard been kidnapped by the Absolute, but he was their Warlock's father. They had also popped back to the Emerald Grove for more trading and to pick up their promised reward, left by the tall druid. There they were ganged up on by Zevlor who implored them to have a party as a farewell to the grove and the Tieflings before they made their way to the gate. Which landed him where he was now, holding some cheap wine that tasted like vinegar, watching their leader play his lyre and flirting with Alfira as she strummed her lute and laughed alongside his grandiose tales of love, adventure, and drunken abandon.
Astarion felt his knees begin to shake from the exhaustion of the day and decided a small walk would do him some good, taking a grimaced swig of the wine, if that was what you could call it. Wyll had secluded himself on the beach and brooded in the light of the moon, observed closely by their undead compatriot, Withers. Gale was doing spells, the children watching with wondrous eyes. He hadn’t noticed Mol stuffing some of his herbs into her side pouch to sell on once she reached the gate. Dammon and Karlach were having an arm wrestling match, observed closely by Lae’zel who seemed eager to join in but also too proud to put herself on display for some hellspawn. Shadowheart was meditating at her tent, taking the time to prepare for the adventures ahead, leaving just one elf, standing beside his tent, smiling at the festivities.
“Not joining in, my fanged friend?” Halsin queried with a questioning glance. Astarion shook his head and huffed despondently.
“Please, there’s vinegar for wine, drunk bards and heroes about, this is certainly not my kind of party” He griped, spinning the bottle and listening to the liquid slosh around. Halsin chuckled.
“And what kind of party would that be?” The druid smiled.
“With the most decadent wine the sword coast had to offer and a man or two in my bed.” He retorted with his trademark smirk. The larger elf laughed, tapping Astarion’s shoulder.
“And what about you, dear Halsin, surely you’ve wined and dined your fair share of maidens.” He probed.
Halsin beamed as he looked into the vampire's eye.
“Perhaps in my younger days. I tend not to drink nowadays, I have been known to be somewhat of a lightweight.” He advised, the vampire dramatically gasped, taunting the druid.
“A man of your size, surely not. How many bottles are we talking about for it to hit you?” He smirked.
“Hmm, two glasses I’d say.” He stumbled. There was a moment of quiet before the two of them began to laugh.
“Oh gods, that has tickled me. What about lovers then Halsin, are you as pure as to pass yourself to be?” He followed with his line of questioning, a rumbling coming from the druid's chest.
“Now I am more experienced in that field certainly, I have many stories of my…conquests, shall we say, from my traveling days.” He smiled. Astarion chuckled again. Just then, a group of children, being chased by Gale, who had finally noticed the missing herbs, bumped into the vampire. He stumbled, caught in the warm arms of the druid, holding him tightly to stop him from falling into the grass. The heat was all-encompassing, light, and safe. His firm chest offered comfort and a nice pillow if he was laid down. He felt the previous day's exhaustion quickly filling his mind and found his head immediately filled with clouds as he tried to find his bearings.
“Oh, sorry, I disappeared for a moment there, my apologies Halsin.” He awkwardly muttered, stepping out of his grasp. The druid offered a light smile as he loosened his arms, to let the vampire free.
They didn’t see the goblin across the camp.
They didn’t smell the poison coating the arrow’s tip.
They didn’t hear the goblin aim and release said arrow at the bard, who was mid-song.
The only sound heard was the screaming of Alfira, who dropped her lute, cradling Tav.
Lae-zel acted first, throwing a hand ax into the Goblin’s leg, the creature screaming in agony as she stomped closer with a fury-filled growl. Shadowheart jumped up and sprinted over to the bard, pushing the panicked tieflings out of the way. Astarion gripped his dagger and moved over to the clearing where the goblin had sprung up, checking the area for more of the ghastly creatures, before heading back to the goblin, pulling its body across the ground to escape. The vampire violently flipped the Goblin onto its back and knelt on the injured leg. The Goblin laughed maniacally as the pale elf gripped the green neck tightly.
“Who sent you?” He snarled. The creature continued to laugh before his frenzied eyes met Astarions
“Glory to the Absolute” He choked out. Astarion plunged his dagger into the goblin’s face, pulling it back and plunging it down, over and over and over, until the creature's skull was nothing but pulp. He searched the vermin’s body, finding a small vial.
The sounds of the party had fallen silent, the tieflings had scurried back to the grove for sanctuary before their journey. Astarion wiped the blood from his hands as he jogged over to the injured bard. Shadowheart’s hands shined a healing light over the puncture wound as Halsin checked over Tav, checking for further injury.
“It won’t heal” Shadowheart grunted as she put more force into the spell.
“Halsin, I found this on the bastard.” The vampire spoke, his brows furrowed at the sight. The bard was taking panicked breaths as the cleric tried to heal the wound. The druid looked over the vial, giving it a sniff. The look on his face spoke a thousand words.
“It’s serpent fang toxin,” Halsin whispered. Astarion’s eyes widened as he stepped back.
“Fuck, how in gods name did they-” He started. The druid quickly scooped up the bard, taking him to his tent, followed by Shadowheart and the others.
“Leave them!” Shouted Astarion, the other party members looking over at him with rage.
“The last thing they need is a crowd, let them work in peace.” He spat, the adrenaline washing off. The rest of the group stopped, taking in their surroundings. The camp was a state. Bottles had been shattered as they had been dropped in panic. Food was strewn around all over the place and the fire had started to die. In silence, the remaining camp members began a large-scale clean up, before heading to their tents.
It was another sleepless night for the vampire. The voice of his master laughed at him, mocked his pain. A lingering worry for the bard kept his throbbing head focused and ready in case any aid was needed. After hours of silence, he left his tent for air, bringing a familiar book, only to find the druid sat by the fire. He walked over silently, taking a seat on the same log. Halsin whittled in silence as Astarion stared deep into the fire.
“He is at rest, I’ve treated him the best I can for the time being but Serpent Fang is…fatal. We need an antidote but I doubt the ingredients are available in these parts.” Halsin spoke, his knife digging too far into the wood and, taking a chunk of the duck's wing with it. A frustrated grunt left him as he threw the creation into the fire.
“You leave that to me. Give me a list of what you need and we’ll get it, mark my words.” He stated with confidence.
Halsin opened his mouth to speak but the look in Astarion’s eye put him at ease, fully trusting the vampire.
“I believe you. Try the grove and I imagine they may be able to help somewhat.” He spoke, taking the book from the vampire’s hand.
“Now, where were we?” The druid finished. Astarion smiled.
“The three vampires were hunting whatever her name was,” Astarion spoke, unintentionally leaning into the druid's warmth.
“Ah yes.” he started. His voice fluttered over the cool night air and Astarion barely made any of it out as his eyes began to close, leaning heavier into the arm. Halsin’s deep voice was lulling him into trance, comfort finally filling his bones, and exhaustion released him.
With a start they both jumped, a pained shout coming from the bard. Halsin jumped up quickly, Astarion having to balance his hand on the log as he watched the elf walk into the tent. Astarion took an exasperated breath, picking his book up, he looked into the flames, hoping for some kind of reprieve.
The next day came quicker than expected. The tent was silent. Everyone was awake but the aura covering the camp was dark and melancholic. No one wandered from their tent, no breakfast started, and not even Lae’zel was sharpening her blades. A sharp faintness reared its head as Astarion stood from the ground, familiar exhaustion finally beginning to render him out of use. He then remembered the vial Halsin gave him. He pulled it from his pouch and looked it over, gearing himself to drink whatever the concoction was. With a quick motion, he dropped every last drop down his throat. It was immediate, he was filled with so much energy he felt like the blood left in his veins would explode out. His mind was clear, he felt like he could run to Balder's gate and back in seconds. And with this energy, he smirked and marched to the centre of camp.
“Right! You sorry lot, get up, we’ve got things to do!” he shouted. Gale stuck his head out of his tent, viewing the vampire in confusion. A smile made its way across the cleric’s lips for an instant before quickly disappearing. Wyll and Karlach looked at each other, shrugged, and then made their way to the heart of the camp. The Githyanki scowled and wandered over.
“We’re going to find the ingredients for the cure. Lae’zel, Gale, Shadowheart; You’re with me.” He started. He looked over to the two women with a scowl.
“If I hear even a word of argument between the both of you, I’m sewing all of your shirts together with mithril twine, do we understand?” He threatened. Lae’zel scoffed.
“You bluff, you own no such thing.” She snarled. Astarion stood up to her, their chests almost touching
“Do you want to find out?” He asked, she growled and stepped back. “Good.” He finished.
“Hey, what about us?” Karlach grumbled. Wyll stood at her side, awaiting instruction.
“Oh gods, I don't know, clean, go fishing, put Wyll in a dress, and have a tea party, I don’t care, just don’t bother Halsin.” He dramatically spat, moving over to the druid's tent.
“Get ready, we leave in ten!” He shouted, facing away from the group. He peeked through the tent, seeing the druid grinding herbs in his pestle and mortar. Beside him was the bard, only slightly lucid. Halsin looked up with a start before taking a shallow breath of relief.
“Oh! The ingredient list, yes, it’s here,” He said, passing the scroll to the vampire. Astarion quickly opened it, making a mental note of where to find each item. He thanked the druid and turned to leave. As he did, the bard grabbed his wrist, looking at him. The vampire moved to the bard's bedside and put on his usual smirk.
“And what can I do for you dear?” He asked, the druid standing silently by, listening in.
“I-i’m sorry for r-ruining the party” he stuttered out in a pained voice. Astarion rolled his eyes.
“Please, I had Rolan drooling over me all night and I had to listen to Karlach whine about losing that arm wrestle with the blacksmith. If anything you made my night ten times better. Now hush and rest, I have things to do.” He smirked. Tav let out a shirt breathy laugh before closing his eyes, his body not being able to fight it any longer.
So the group made their way across the small scape of the coast. Starting with the grove, they bought up wispweed and some health potions for their trip. They headed to the harpy nest, climbing the rocks and looting the bodies for any lingering mergrass they may have had. They were lucky to have found an abundance at the top of the cliff. Then over to the Zhentarim base, where they purchased belladonna and an artist. Astarion theorised that when he took down his master and stole his castle, he could repurpose the artist to paint hundreds of portraits of himself. The final ingredients were back towards Ethel's lair.
“The beard of a living redcap. Really?” Shadowheart complained. “Who’s putting this in an antidote?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. If that’s what the recipe calls for, then that is what we shall acquire.” Astarion grumbled. They all stood still, having spotted the elf-looking creature with a large bushy beard. As they grew closer, the creature disappeared and reappeared at the other end of the swamp. They all groaned and prepared for a long afternoon.
In the end, Gale cast Ice knife, slightly injuring the creature and freezing him to the floor. The vampire then quickly came in from behind and sliced off the creature's beard, alongside the creature's chin, it turns out. Then was the final ingredient. Night Orchid. Astarion remembered seeing one in the hag's basement after they freed the girl. They headed back through the cave system where Ethel had trapped many souls and found themselves in her lab. Many of the items that had been here had been taken by themselves and Mayrina upon her release. Astarion looked around and familiarised himself with the room, spotting many other things they could take in their sweep. And there he found it. In a glass jar sitting pretty in the top corner of the room. A night orchid. He jumped atop the counter and pulled it down gently, placing it in his pouch. It was then that the room began to crumble and soot began to fall from the ceiling. The flower was keeping the room stable, and now they removed it. Quickly they dashed through the portal, ending up on the other side of the swamp in a flash. The teahouse came down suddenly, leaving nothing but a dilapidated swamp in its wake and the cry of a hag from the aether.
As quick as the wind, they make it back to camp. Astarion almost sprints to Halsin’s tent and hands him the ingredients and the man lets out an audible breath of relief.
“I-I can't thank you enough…I need to make this into an antidote but as soon as it is done I’ll administer it. He should be up in the next few hours.” Halsin let out a wide smile, relief, and pure happiness filling his being. Astarion laughed.
“It was my pleasure darling” He smirked as he left the elf to his medicine. As he made his way to a nearby log to sit, a hushed voice called him. He turned over each shoulder and couldn't see where it was coming from. He then spotted a red hand beckoning him into her tent. He rolled his eyes and groaned.
Now there were many things the vampire expected to see. Perhaps a pigeon the woman wanted to keep as a pet. A nice rock she found on her adventures. But this. This was completely beyond him.
“You know, when I told you to put Wyll in a dress, you do realise I was being sarcastic.” A maniacal laugh left him.
In front of him, in a red ball gown with full makeup and breasts stuffed to look like a damsel in distress, was Wyll Ravenguard himself.
“We’re putting on a play for Tav, we just wanted you to alter the dress!” Karlach whisper-shouted. Astarion laughed even harder this time.
“Oh how sweet, he’ll be laughing so hard he’ll pull out his stitches!” he snorted, holding his sides in pain.
“Well, it couldn't hurt. Stand up m’lady, I’ll make that waist so cinched, all the ladies of the gate will be jealous.” He smirked.
It was dark, the only light was the small fire in the centre of the camp. The campmates sat waiting for the show. Out of the tent came Tav, held up by Halsin. They made their way over to a wooden chair, hastily put together by the campmates so the bard could be comfortable. The bard was in the centre, with the other campmates beside him in a semi-circle. All but Lae’zel. Astarion assumed this wouldn’t be her brand of entertainment and she’d called it early.
The show started. Karlach was the daring warrior, hunting monsters and heading up to the princess in her tower. She delivered her lines like a small child in his first school play and she was thriving. Astarion laughed like he’d never laughed before and, by the looks of it, so was Tav. Multiple times he had to wipe away tears at her acting. After she killed wolves, shooed thirsty women, and gambled on her horse, she eventually reached the tower. She called up to her princess, and in walked Wyll.
A screaming laugh came from the Bard as he spotted the warlock in the dress.
“Oh I wish I got some warning about that, ooooh it hurts” he bellowed as he laughed. Astarion turned to Halsin, who sat next to him, had his mouth covered trying to hold in his laughter. Shadowheart’s jaw dropped to the floor as she stared on in bewilderment.
“Oooooooooh handsome hero, please save me from the evil wizard Balthazaar, oh how he frightens me!” He swooned, sounding like a ninety-year-old woman playing chess with her friends. The uproar across the campmates was eclectic.
“Balthazaar, come out and face me!” The barbarian shouted. And out stepped Lae’zel in her normal armour, looking confused with a piece of paper in her hand.
And in a completely monotone voice, she stated: “I am Balthazar, you cannot have my princess.” The Githyanki then looked over at the princess and grimaced.
“I do not want that creature, she’s hideous” She snarled. Halsin laughed loudly not being able to hold it in anymore, followed by everyone else. Karlach blanched, then took out her wooden sword and aimed it at Lae’zel.
“Face me Balthaazar, for the princess!” She demanded, in a fighting stance
“You may take her, but I will still face you in combat. So it is, to the death!” She growled, pulling out her new great axe, gearing up to take a swing.
Everyone looked on in shock, still laughing at the performance. Wyll sneakily cast sleep at Lae’zel, who immediately collapsed to the floor. Karlach gasped, taking her wooden sword and gently tapping Lae’zel on the back.
“The wizard is slain and the princess is mine!” She cheered. The warlock skipped over in his dress. The tiefling placed her arm around his waist and dipped him, making kissing sounds, the campmates laughing at the bizarreness of the situation. She then stood him back up and they both bowed.
Tav stood up from his chair, everyone watching with caution, before he began clapping loudly. The rest of the camp joined in, laughing and cheering at the warlock in the silly dress, the tiefling with the wooden sword, and the still unconscious Githyanki, Astarion turned to the druid and he felt like he could breathe again. The smile on his face gave him more life in the past two hundred years than the sun ever did. If he still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat.
‘Is this why people pray to the gods because now I think I get it.’
Eventually, after the two had bowed, woken up Lae’zel, and bowed again, everyone began to make their way to bed for the evening. Tav decided to share a tent with Shadowheart to give Halsin some space after being kept in there for the whole day. Astarion hadn't moved. He realised halfway through the show that the potion he took this morning had finally worn off. The last of his energy had seeped out and he didn’t know if he could make it back to his tent. He sighed to himself, he needed to. He couldn’t stay next to the fire all night, it was too open, and unsafe. He didn’t have the energy to fight if anything did attack. He was a goner.
As he stood and began to walk towards his tent, his vision swam dramatically, like he was the drunkest he’d ever been. He reached to grab something to keep him from falling but there was nothing there. Until there was. His back collided with something hard, warm, and safe. Halsin’s warm arms kept him upright, even though his legs were threatening to buckle,
“Astarion, what’s…you took the potion?” He asked, placing himself under the vampire’s arm to keep him upright. Astarion groaned in agreement
“I need to stay awake.” He grumbled. Halsin let out a tense breath.
“I’ll take you to your tent, sleep, get some r-” He reassured in a hushed tone
“Nono I can’t I-” He started, pulling himself away from the druid.
“I can hear…” He mumbled to himself. Halsin watched and looked on with worry. And then an idea.
“If you mean to stay awake, then why not finish the book with me this evening.” Halsin offered. Astarion looked at him, confusion in his brow.
“Surely you need rest after…all this.” He stated, his expression somewhat mad to the untrained eye. Halsin chuckled.
“No, not really. All I’ve done is crush ingredients and dress wounds. Honestly, it’s one of the most laid-back days I’ve had in a long time.” He smiled. “I’d like to spend that time with you. Please?” He asked, offering a hand to the undead man.
Astarion looked at the hand with worry, and then desperation. He ached, his eyes stung, his brain felt like it would explode out of his head and he was so…tired. Halsin was like the sun. He was comfort, light, warmth, soft words and touches. He started to stumble his way over to the hand, eventually reaching over and grabbing the flesh, the warmth immediately filled him. Halsin brought him back to his tent and gently placed him on his bedroll, lying next to the vampire. With his arm, he pulled the vampire into his chest to make him more comfortable. He was correct, Halsin does make a good pillow. And the comfort he felt. It was almost like the first time he saw the sunlight after being free
“So where were we? Ah yes, three vampires hunting whatever she’s called.” Halsin whispered
Astarion’s eyes settled shut immediately after.
Is this why people pray to the gods because now I think I get it.