Sanguine || Astarion x Reader

To Be Alone

Set directly after "It Will Come Back" !

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Visiting the Githyanki Creche proved to be a lot more than a simple visit.

The whole day had been a lot to process. With Lae'zel's faith to Vlaakith— her apparent queen— now slowly dwindling after her stunt to have you kill your Dream Guardian, only to order the kith'rak to kill your party once you got out of the Astral Prism was beyond fucked up.

Fighting against the Githyanki was incredibly difficult. First of all, you were outnumbered. Each chamber you entered had at least six high ranking Gith in them, waiting to exterminate your party.

Their wiry and lean bodies certainly hide the innate strength they all seemed to have. They were relentless fighters with almost infinite stamina.

Even Lae'zel was having difficulty keeping up with her kin, and she proved to be the most efficient killer among your party. Behind Lae'zel in that ranking would be Astarion, you'd say.

He was relentless with a blade that day. You would cause a distraction, perhaps even charm them or force them into uncontrollable laughter with your lute, and he would just grapple them with his thighs and mercilessly sink his blade into their eyes.

Then, he would land graciously and soundlessly on his feet, much like a cat. And the look of satisfaction he had afterwards was absolutely feral.

Now camping at the edge of the Monastery, Shadowheart does her best to heal you all— including herself— while Gale prepares supper for everybody.

"That's all I can do for now, I'm afraid," Shadowheart says as she bandages a scabbing gash on your arm. "I can do more tomorrow before we set off for the Underark."

You nod. "Thank you, Shadowheart. Please, rest. You've done so much already."

"Just don't exert yourself too much," she replies, eyeing Astarion beside you. "You'll only undo my work.

You open your mouth to speak, but Astarion intejects, "I shall be on my best behavior." He has a cheeky smile on his face, the tips of his fangs just barely poking through. You want to smack him on the chest lightly, but remember he has a growing bruise over it, so you relent. Instead, you toss him an annoyed look.

"What?" Astarion breathes, exasperated, a dramatic hand splaying on his chest.

You shake your head fondly at him with a chuckle bubbling out of your gut. That chuckle turns into a harsh, hacking cough, gaining Shadowheart's attention immediately.

"I'm fine. I'm fine!" You say through your coughs. "Saliva. Wrong pipe!"

Shadowheart squints at you, but decided to let it go and continued to walk towards her tent to rest while eating Gale's hearty stew.

"Are you sure, darling?" Astarion queries from beside you. "Perhaps another healing potion for good measure." He begins to rummage his pack for a lesser healing potion for you to drink. You stop him with a hand on his forearm, your warm palm immediately getting cooled by his skin.

"Really, I'm alright, Astarion." You say, a lot calmer this time to reassure him. You know how closely he watches you while in combat, it's no secret he's at least a tad protective of you. Maybe because you're his constant source of blood. Perhaps— you allow yourself to dream— it's because of something more.

"If you insist," he replies with a curt nod. Astarion gets to his feet, the spot beside you weirdly empty now that he's not in close proximity anymore. It's weird, you think. You're getting used to his presence on your left side.