Blood & Wine - A Spawn Astarion Fan Fiction

Astarion

The little druid collapses into my arms, her breathing labored. I hold her to my chest, brushing back the hair stuck to the sweat on her forehead, taking care not to touch her horns. "You stupid, silly little thing," I hiss under my breath, looking over my shoulder at the wolf sprawled in the underbrush. "Stupid, prideful little thing coming out here alone."

I want to shake some sense into her, to scream at her for her recklessness. Her occasional delusions of heroism that strike her and push her into action, but right now my only concern is her safety.

It's not like I've gotten attached to her or anything, but the animal blood smeared on my lips is a bit more incriminating when the group's favorite little tiefling is unconscious in my arms.

I lean forward, slipping my free arm under her knees, lifting and cradling her to my chest, taking care to make sure that her head rests against my shoulder as I carry her back towards camp.

Nymeria groans under her breath, nuzzling against my shoulder.

I clear my throat loudly, and this wakes her. She stiffens in my arms, her eyes widen, flailing for a moment before throwing her arms around my neck to regain her balance.

"A cat?" I ask, my words coming out a bit harsher than I had intended, but I make no attempt to hide my displeasure. "That's the best you could come up with? A cat."

She sucks in a breath, shifting in my arms, "Let me down."

I stop and oblige, setting her down onto her shaky feet, my hands hovering at her shoulders as she looks up at me, still dazed and half awake from the fight. I watch her as she sways gently, her hand lifting and cradling her side. I can see the bruise from the tree already blooming under her leathers. "Wait." I sniff, "Why do you smell like the monster hunter?"

"What?" Nymeria's brows furrow as she looks up at me. "You're asking me about Wyll when I just caught you killing a wolf."

"Killing a wolf?" I choke out, "I was out there saving your small, fluffy ass from being its next meal."

She reaches up and presses her hand to her cheek, eyes unfocused as if trying to piece everything together; they drift down to my side. "Is this yours or his?" She asks, reaching forward and prodding my ribs.

I groan and take a few steps back, looking down at the red stain coating the underside of my white shirt. "Great, this is going to be difficult to remove." I blink as Nymeria reaches forward and pulls the shirt from my breeches and begins to lift it, "Hey. HEY!"

She looks up at me as I grab and steady her hands, "You're injured. Let me see."

"Darling, if you wanted to see me without my shirt, all you had to do was ask." I purr, and before I can stop it, my thumb begins to trace a line across her pulse point.

She pulls away as if I've burned her, her face flushing the most adorable shade of pink contrasting her pale blue-green skin. "Sorry." She shakes her head. There's that blind heroism again.

"Don't worry about me. I heal quickly; it'll be just a few moments, and I will be as good as new, thanks to my affliction."

Nymeria shakes her head and laughs to herself, "You're the vampire."

"Yes, darling, I'm fairly certain we established that before you passed out in my arms." I stretch, testing the intensity of my wound and wincing at the pain.

"He hunts." She says under her breath. "They were talking about you. All of the birds, the creatures, they were telling on you."

"Pesky little things." I fold my arms against my chest in frustration.

"You've been feeding on the wildlife." Her brow furrows as she looks up at me, "Why?"

"If you're asking why I haven't sneaked into your tent and had you as one of my little midnight snacks." I sigh, "That would be the quickest way for me to find a stake buried in my chest by your dearest monster hunter. At least one of us has some sense of self-preservation."

She frowns at the mention of Wyll, her tail flicking from side to side, a lot like it would if she were in her cat form. Her head tilts, and she reaches out to me, "Astarion."

"I do so like the sound of my name on your lips." I say, my voice softer than usual; it feels farther away.

"You aren't healing. Why aren't you healing?" Her voice is shrill with panic; I'm barely able to push her away as she lifts my shirt to see the long claw marks down my side.

The sight is a shock to us both.

"I— I haven't been able to feed much these past few nights. I didn't even feed on the wolf; I was more concerned about saving you." I swallow hard.

It's her turn to take care of me as her soft hands reach to my shoulders, directing me to a nearby tree to prop my large form against it. If I wasn't bleeding profusely, the action would feel bordering on obscene.

"Let me heal you." She reaches up and touches my cheek; it feels like her hands are encased in cotton, barely able to reach my skin.

I grab her wrist, holding it, but not pulling her hand from my cheek, "I don't need magic. I need blood. I need to feed."

"Then feed on me." She says without hesitation.

"What?!" I shake my head, "I can't ask that of you."

"You saved my life." Nymeria pulls away and begins to undo one of the leather straps at the base of her neck that crosses over her chest. "Let me save yours."

As soon as she bares her skin, my mouth begins to water. I can see the subtle vibration of her heartbeat at the pulse point in her neck, mine quickening to match. I lean down towards her, a man possessed.

"No, wait." She grabs my shoulders, steadying me. "Sit down. I'm sorry, I'm not sure I could support your weight if you decided to pass out."

I nod absently, "Of course", I lean back and lower myself until I'm sitting, my back cool against the tree bark. My breath catches as she drops to her knees in front of me, the strap of her armor resting against her collarbone.

She turns those doe eyes on me, looking expectantly for some direction.

"Come here." I open my arms, "You might as well make yourself a bit more comfortable."

"What?" She looks at me like I've grown an extra head, then tilts her head as if she was trying to work out the logistics. After a moment, she crawls forward and straddles my thighs; the gesture seems to shock us both as she gingerly settles against me.

I choke out a groan and hold my arms out, remaining as still as possible as not to spook her. Every wicked thing I wish to say to her, to speak against her soft skin, dies in my throat as she tilts her head, allowing me access to her neck.

"I won't try not to take a drop more than I need." I explain, my free arm snaking around her waist. "But you must stop me if you begin to feel faint."

"Okay." She exhales deeply, looking down at me. She swallows, "Bite me."