Astarion x M!Reader

Twenty-Three

The shadows had a will of their own and every now and then they liked to remind you of it. You had called out to them in your helplessness, without advice or a clue as to what was best to do.

Now they enveloped your body as if you were a doll. Their darkness crept into your mind, drowning it in pain and old memories.

Why now?

And why did they have to be memories of him?

The scar on your abdomen began to ache. It burned like fire on your skin, as if every single layer of your flesh was being torn open so he could burrow in like the parasite he was.

Cazador.

His name tasted so bitter on your tongue. Even though you hadn't spoken it in so many years, there was still that spark that flared in your heart when his face appeared before your inner eye.

That black hair and the expression of endless self-confidence. Your fingers twitched, remembering how it had felt to touch him.

A shiver crawled down your spine.

No, you didn't want to remember the good times, not the way he smelled when you buried your head in the crook of his neck in the morning.

It had been a lie. Nothing but another one of his games on the way to where he was now.

And yet. That feeling of ice was still in your bones.

How long had it been?

Four hundred years?

Five hundred?

Or much more?

You couldn't remember. You didn't want to remember. And yet it was still there, it had burned into your flesh like a boil and stolen a piece of your soul.

For too long you had felt incomplete. As if he had actually taken something you needed to breathe so that you could be yourself. Who you wanted to be.

But in that moment, it felt like nothing of you had ever been lost that day.

Air filled your lungs in deep bursts. It was such a sweet feeling, so relieving.

And then there was this weight pressing against your cold, empty chest. Sparks of warmth.

Astarion.

His name made the shadows tremble as if they wanted to bow down to him. It made your skin prickle. He was still whimpering softly, but now it sounded like he was just rolling in pain because it was the only thing he knew.

Your arms were tightly wrapped around him so he wouldn't get lost in the darkness. How strangely different you two were, he the spawn of a monster and you one of the two most powerful beings in this city. Possibly even on this continent.

And yet you were so much alike, connected by a man who kept his fingers closed around your throats.

How long had you lurked in the darkness, wrapped yourself in shadows and licked your wounds even though they hadn't bled for decades?

You had created spawns to banish your loneliness, but you had been the one who couldn't let go of it.

Maybe Lorelei was right and you had changed. Or rather, you were now closer to the man you had been before Cazador.

A soft breath escaped your parted lips. Then you swallowed and your throat burned with thirst.

The shadows around you trembled as your eyes opened, clogged with held back tears of regret. The (E/C) had vanished and now it was complete, the red of the vampire with which Cazador had cursed you.

Protect what I can't protect, you had said to Horren. Yet the only thing you hadn't been able to protect all your life was yourself.

How ridiculous that was.

A smirk appeared on your lips. Then a laugh grew in your throat. It filled the emptiness of the shadows with a power that even you could not have imagined.

The darkness shook, trembled. Shadows formed and for the first time you could feel them submitting to you, completely and unquestioningly. They vanished before your eyes.

Your feet found their footing on solid stone again. Cold air brushed your cheeks. You could feel it with every fibre of your being.

A shiver coursed through your body, but it was quickly dispelled by the warmth pressing against your chest.

Astarion moved his face, his nose rubbing against your skin. A feeling ran through your body that you couldn't describe.

"Forgive me, little dove.", you breathed a kiss on his white hair. "It seems to me that you and I are not too different."

His grip on your robe loosened. Tears blurred his pretty eyelashes as he lifted his chin to look you in the eye. Disappointment looked into your eyes.

"Red.", he whispered. "Just like Cazador..."

It was painful to hear those words, because they were nothing but the truth. A truth you loathed and yet. It was what it was.

You and Cazador were two sides of the same coin. You resembled each other. But you refused to be exactly like him.

"Sit down.", you gently led him to a stone bench under the rotunda where the shadows had brought you.

It was the furthest place from your estate, so far that the gardeners didn't even bother to tame the plants or pluck the weeds. Wild nature stretched its branches towards the stars while ivy crept up the stems of the leaves.

Cracks ran through the old stone as Astarion sat down on the bench and stared into the ravine at the edge of which the rotunda had been built.

A sweet scent rose to your nose as you stepped to the edge. It rustled and tiny leaves of white flowers were carried away by the wind.

Astarion's eyes widened. He suppressed an audible gasp. It made you smile. Still, your heart grew heavy at the sight.

In front of you, deep down in a ravine almost as big as your entire estate, grew a sea of flowers.

They were roses, whiter than the first snow of winter with thorns sharper than the pain Cazador's scar had inflicted on you for all eternity.