Astarion x M!Reader

Thirty-Eight

"I can sense your displeasure, vampire.", the voices seemed to crawl into his head. "The one you call Platinum."

"I'm not calling him anything.", he hissed back between clenched teeth.

It surprised him how sensitive he was when it came to you. All these years he had lived contentedly, drinking and killing without your face crossing his inner eye.

But now?

It was as if something had opened up in his chest that he had assumed to be carefully bound. Weakness. How he hated that thought, but it was the truth.

You were his weakness. He could have killed you, just as he had done to that Lorelei, the little bird whose neck he had split in two. You had been so helpless, trapped in something so mortal.

Grief.

It had been the perfect moment. Even though the shadows had wrapped themselves around you, he was still convinced that your mind could not have commanded them.

He could have killed you. But the unpleasant truth was that he had hesitated at that moment when he had seen the (E/C) of your eyes, how they had slowly turned red with rage.

His words had been meant to cut into your flesh but they had been his biggest mistake of the night. Because in the end, he was the one who just couldn't kill you. Otherwise he wouldn't have to deal with these thoughts now.

Weakness, he thought to himself again and pulled a face.

"Vampire.", the voice was like worms in his head, scratching at his eyes.

He hated it. But the thought of one day being able to do something like that drove Cazador on.

"I didn't come here to be reminded of the past.", he replied with a raised chin.

"No. It's a trade."

"Then trade with me! Why mention a man who has no value?"

Laughter. Thousands upon thousands of laughs filled the silence, the space in the nothing and the nothing itself. It made the air tremble, drove the bile up his throat.

He wanted to throw up on his own shoes and at the same time his heart was beating with excitement.

"What is of value and what is not is different for everyone.", the voices replied as their joy ebbed away.

Cazador raised an eyebrow sceptically. The figure of darkness had calmed down. Now it was like a mild night he was talking to.

"It sounds like you want him.", he refused to speak your name, the one you gave yourself, the one that had no value to him.

The name of a vampire could do great things. It was like a door into their soul, could enslave them. Cazador knew what he was talking about, after all, he had been utilising this fact for several centuries.

Even if he couldn't remember what he had once called you, he knew that platinum was not a lead. Weakness. Weakness tightened his chest again.

No, he couldn't think like that. He was not allowed to fantasise whether it would be possible to persuade you to perform the ritual with him. He could share an existence with you again.

Then he suddenly remembered why he had tried to kill you back then. You held him back. It was like a chain that would bind his feet to the bottom of the ocean forever. And Cazador wanted to fly.

"Wanting, desiring...", the voices cooed as if they were talking about a lost lover. "I thirst for more. Your sacrifices are meagre."

"I sacrifice as agreed, exactly the amount."

"Weak. Their souls are weak."

"There were few prerequisites so you can't complain now. Business is business."

"Yes.", again the ground shook beneath his feet only he wasn't sure if it was because the creature was angry or because it was simply its power spreading naturally.

A chill crawled down his spine. He would have liked to leave, but one did not leave the lord of all nine hells standing like a maiden in the rain. Even Cazador couldn't afford to do that.

"Are you thirsty for more?", the vampire asked, leaning towards the shadows.

They struck his face like whips. But they couldn't hurt him, weren't allowed to, otherwise the contract would be null and void.

"Power. He has a strong soul.", said the voice.

Secretly, he thought he could feel a thin trickle of blood dripping from his ear. But that could just be his imagination. In this environment, it was hard to tell what was real and what was fantasy.

Gritting his teeth, Cazador took a deep breath. He couldn't let himself be distracted at this moment, this deal could make his life a lot easier. And possibly prolong it. Into infinity and into the day.

"What is it worth to you?", he finally asked.

The undead heart beat against his chest. Thirst rasped in his throat. A shame Astarion wasn't there to hunt for him.

"How much can a vampire be worth?", the question came back. "What are you prepared to sacrifice?"

Cazador's jaw tightened. That vile monster. It knew of his weakness for you. And it was ready to exploit it. No, he wouldn't let you play with him like that.

"Numbers, demon!", he growled into the air and the shadows responded to his seething rage. "Name a price you are willing to pay for his soul. If it pleases me, it shall be yours."

Thunder. The ground trembled, the air rippled and all the voices shouted at once. It was such a shrill sound that it almost ruptured his eardrums.

"If you're angry, this deal won't go through.", he threatened.

The world around him fell to silence.

"Three thousand.", hissed the darkness then. "Bring him to me, with all his damage and the shards he carries. Then you shall bring me only seven thousand souls."

Cazador's heart almost stopped in his chest.

You were worth three thousand souls. Three thousand for one.

It was as if a huge weight had fallen from his shoulders. Astarion had already collected eight hundred and another two thousand were suffering in his dungeon inside the palace. Three thousand souls less and he would be so close to his goal.

A smirk twitched the corners of his mouth. He was ready to make this deal. But he couldn't be honest with himself and ask himself if he would pay when the time came.

"We have a deal.", Cazador agreed.