Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The last weeks flew by in a heartbeat, Astarion wasn’t aware time passed quickly when you were present within your body as well. His body seemed to change every tenday or so. The rogues figure was well and truly round by now. No amount of clothing could hide his pregnancy. Not that we wanted to, he loved getting new clothes that accentuated his bump. He was just about six months into a standard elven pregnancy by now, although neither him nor his partners knew if a dhampir pregnancy followed the same length or not. He certainly felt huge already, his small frame only further highlighting the discrepancy to his swollen stomach.

The little one had started to get quite lively as well, kicking up a storm whenever the little rogue was awake. As if on cue the vampire felt their small feet hit the walls of his stomach, his hand instinctively reaching to the spot and running his hand over it. „Good evening to you too, my Sweet“ he cooed, cradling his belly. The babe loved it whenever he or his partners spoke to them and it filled the high elf with joy how much his lovers enjoyed talking to their baby as much as he did.

Halsin had started reading bedtime stories to them, insisting the little one could recognize their voices by now and was calmed by it. It was the druid's booming voice that lulled Astarion to sleep most of the time. That was another change he hadn’t expected, he slept more often than he meditated the further he got into his pregnancy. Whether it was little cat naps throughout the day or sleeping anywhere between 4-8h at a time it seemed his body needed more rest than meditation was able to provide. That didn’t come without drawbacks however, he had no control over his dreams as he had within reverie. The rogue often dreamt of his former life in Baldur's Gate under Cazador, or more recently he had a recurring nightmare of going into labor too early and/or their child being stillborn. He awoke from his night terrors screaming and in tears, sobbing into one of his partners arms as they held him. They muttered reassuring words to him and stroked his hair until he had calmed. After a while he  would usually fall asleep again, wrapped in his favorite blanket. 

Hunger drove Astarion out of bed eventually and he slowly walked into the kitchen to get some blood. At the beginning stages of his condition he was still able to hunt for himself, but by now that was impossible. He depended on the animal blood from their local butcher as well as blood donations from the other farmers when one of their animals passed. The small community they had was close knit and it touched the vampire's undead heart, that civilians that barely knew him went out of their way to make sure he stayed well fed. His partners also always offered him their blood as well. It was the best of all of it, as the blood of thinking creatures always was. Astarion was craving it most days but both his lovers couldn’t walk around woozy every day, so he made sure not to overdo it.

Atalanta was sitting at their kitchen table, her brows knit tightly together, studying an ancient looking tomb in a language Astarion didn’t recognize. After lingering in the doorway for a bit to make sure the cleric hadn’t heard him he made his way slowly towards her. The tiefling paid him no mind, so lost was she in that book of hers.
“Well hello my dear” he called out, the younger one flinching and almost dropping the book at the sudden noise. Her bewilderment soon turned into laughter however, ringing out clearly like the bells of a church. “By Selunes grace, you really got me there. Hungry already?” she teased, tilting her head just slightly. It made the various moon shaped devotional jewelry adorning her horns ring out in response.

“Well it’s not my fault the little one has an appetite just as ravenous as both their fathers combined” he pouted, playing up his performance and earning a chuckle in response. The cleric was the youngest out of the three of them but slowly and surely smile lines and crow's feet started to appear on her pale blue skin. Astarion only loved her more for it. He reached for one of the many blood bottles they kept stored and poured it into a chalice. With a soft grunt he sat down in the chair opposite to his lover, while she smiled at him. 

Atalanta was certain pregnancy only made their vampire more beautiful. Elves conceived rarely enough as it was and rumors spread far and wide that being with child, only further enhanced their natural beauty. Astarion made it downright ethereal and glowing. Neither her nor Halsin could keep their eyes off of him, or their hands for that matter. They relished in touching his growing belly and breasts. The latter had probably almost tripled in size, having been quite small beforehand. The cleric remembered Astarion being especially pleased with that, needing no contraption or magic to alter his chest to appear even flatter. She had been afraid that he would be displeased with this aspect of his body changing, but he took it in stride. They had talked a lot about how it didn’t alter their perception of him at all and he promised to tell them when he felt his dysphoria worsen. 

„So what have you been reading? Must’ve been a real page turner“ Astarion chimed in, breaking her train of thought. The vampire was looking at her expectantly, a now empty chalice placed before him.
„Well it’s a pretty old book written in what is essentially cursive for infernal. It takes a while for me to make progress“ she admitted.
„What’s it about?“ he asked immediately, ever concerned with what he could not perceive himself. The idea of a secret terrified the rogue. It was hypocritical of him considering the truths he kept at the beginning of their adventure, but in the past a secret meant more torture or whatever the hells Cazador had thought about this time.
„It’s about dhampires and how they came to be. But until now nothing I hadn‘t read elsewhere. I’ll keep you updated though, of course“. The high elf hummed in agreement. 

The past months the tiefling and Halsin had searched far and wide for any kind of literature on half vampires. Thanks to the combined efforts of the two of them, as well as Gale and Rolan, they amassed a small collection of literature about the topic. It was often hard to separate fact from fiction though. Most literature questioned the pure existence of half vampire half humanoid children. But Astarion was proof enough that dhampires do exist even if they were exceedingly rare. What worried the cleric was that she hadn’t read anything about a vampire being impregnated. All of the books they possessed had case studies where a spawn or vampire lord impregnated a humanoid person, resulting in a dhampir child. 

She prayed to her goddess that Astarion was simply an edgecase of an already rare scenario and not that children conceived like this could not survive. The tiefling put the book aside, focusing to work on some wood carving instead. Halsins had taught her how to do it quite recently and she was determined to show her gratitude with a gift for her lover. The wooden block had a lopsided shape to it. It was supposed to be a duck but right now it looked closer to a monster straight out of the hells.

Astarion watched her intensely, taking in every small movement of her hands. His life had become so utterly domestic, his biggest worry of the day being which of his partners would be with him. They had unanimously agreed that one of them would always stay with him from now on. Earlier on in his pregnancy he had experienced some bleeding, something unusual but not unheard off. It was still during the daylight hours and had freaked him out intensely, sending him into a spiral of anxiety and dread. He had no idea if this was normal or not. Had his parents taught him about this in the past and he had forgotten? He had been forced to wait until one of his partners had come home, their wood elf finding the rogue in a catatonic state that evening. Everything was fine of course, but it spooked the trio enough to want to keep a closer eye on the vampire. Even with the two best healers by his side, pregnancy was still the most life threatening thing a person could go through. 

The vampire continued watching his lover try to carve something beautiful out of the wooden block. She wasn’t as good as their druid and lacked the dexterity of his own nimble fingers, but she gave it her very best. The cleric committed to everything she started with a devotion that fascinated the rogue. Her mind seemingly laser focused on whatever task she had to complete. Watching her hands like this his mind quickly drifted to other things. Her hands on his body, sending shivers down his spine. He thought of the tieflings' fingers buried inside of him, or stroking his cock.

 The vampire could feel arousal bloom in his gut, a soft warmth spreading from his core. It was a weird sensation for him, for the past 200 years he never got aroused at anything. Bodily reactions to simple stimuli were something his body still performed of course, but whether it was due to being chronically starved or just in a constant state of fear he rarely got wet. With his partners he found he got aroused all the time. He got wet when he watched Halsin chop wood outside, muscles glistening with sweat. Right now apparently he got wet because the way Atalanta moved her hands reminded him of how they had been inside him just a few days ago. He had talked to his lovers about this development of his  and they assured him this was normal. The rogue did believe them, but what was normal when the past 200 years of experiences with your own body had been so different? The high elf rubbed his thighs together and couldn’t help the whine that escaped his throat when he found himself already soaked.

Atalanta turned her head towards him. “Is someone upset that he isn’t the center of attention?” the cleric teased lightly. She put the knife and wooden block away, collecting the small wood shavings in a little bowl meant for fruit. Her attention was solely focused on him now, mismatched eyes urging him on to speak. The vampire cleared his throat before speaking: “I was just thinking about what else those pretty fingers of yours were doing a couple days ago”. The tiefling hummed in agreement, her eyes sparkling in recognition. She patted her lap signaling him to sit, they both knew exactly where this was going. Astarion wanted to play it coy, the hunt was almost as enjoyable as the feast after all. However, the prospect of having his increasing need satisfied sooner than later had him folding like a leaf in autumn. 

He dutifully sat down on her lap, the wooden chair creaking slightly under the added weight. The pale elf hitched his robes up, straddling his lover and he could hear her intake a sharp breath when she found he wore nothing underneath. “Already so wet for me. What a good little Star you are” she praised, her hand coming to rest on the small of his back. Her words send a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

 The cleric was looking up at him expectantly, eyes full of so much love it made his undead heart ache. She waited patiently for him to voice his desires, a silent offering for him to take control. The vampire started to rock his hips lightly, her linen pants providing well needed friction to his cock. He let out soft moans, slowly increasing the speed. He wasn’t sure where this was going exactly, but it felt good and he wanted more. He felt the urge to kiss her, feel her tongue collide with his and taste her but his belly was in the way, he couldn’t bend that far forward. He also feared the shift in weight would send them both to the ground.

Her other hand reached up to cup one of his breasts, feeling its weight before kneading it softly. 
“Wait. Don’t!” he called out, wincing slightly. Her hand immediately flinched away. 
“Bad day today?” her voice was laced with concern.
"No. I’m fine, my sweet. They’re just so sensitive right now that even the slightest touch is too much.”
“My poor Moonflower” she cooed. “Well they certainly felt heavier. You’re already a little late but I assume lactation should start soon” the last bit was added in a deep rasp, the thought seemingly indulging a particular fantasy of hers. She interlaced her hand with his. 

“Are you okay to continue? If you’re in pain we should stop. I can apply some numbing cream if you like?” She held his gaze, trying to look for signs of uncertainty, but found none.
“No I’m okay darling. Just a passing uncomfortable feeling. I want this. I want you.” 
He squeezed the hand that was interlaced with his and started rocking his hips again, slowly finding his rhythm once more. The room was quiet except for the moans and whimpers that left his mouth.
“So close already. Star, do you want to cum just like this? Untouched in my lap, our druid would love this” her hand running soothing circles along his lower back careful to avoid his scars. 

The vampire groaned in response. He hadn’t noticed how fast his orgasm had been approaching, but then he rarely did. His lovers had tried to get him to focus on the feeling, feel his own body's signs when he was close but it rarely worked. He only noticed it when he was right at the edge, often only calling out in warning before tumbling over it.

“Yes, yes. I want to. I….I need” he choked out in between pants. He didn’t know what he was begging for exactly. His mouth seemed aware of something his mind was unable to catch up to. He wanted release, certainly. The ache now festering heavy in his guts. He wanted this moment to last forever, to stay for eternity just like this in the company of one of the persons he loved most. Sex was something he now found pleasure in and he often contemplated just what made it different now. Was it the way they looked at him? How they held his hands with their gazes full of love. Emotional intimacy was something he found himself starved off for all of his undead life and now he was ravenous for it. His lovers were all too happy to indulge him and they respected his boundaries. Not batting an eye when he craved intimacy one day and then shying away from it for weeks afterwards. He truly did not deserve them.

Atalanta's hand cupped one of the high elf pointed ears, squeezing it lightly.
“I love seeing you so lost in your own pleasure. You look so pretty when you cum. Let go love, I have you”. She started rubbing the sensitive tip of his ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. A couple more thrusts was all he needed.

“Darling I’m-” he was unable to finish the sentence before cumming hard, rutting against her leg like a needy schoolboy. Had he been more clear minded he would’ve perhaps been embarrassed but the moment was so tender and sweet he couldn’t help but feel enveloped in love. He felt his release squirting out of him, it didn’t happen every time he came and the Cleric let out a surprised ‘mhpf’ sound at the gush of wetness. She whispered praises to him, how beautiful he was, how much she loved him and how good he was being.

He had half the mind to let himself fall backwards, elbows propped up on the edge of their wooden table. All he wanted to do was to fall forward into her arms, but that would send both of them tumbling to the ground. The rogue's mind felt at ease, his legs still slightly twitching and blissfully goo like. The vampire was panting heavily, taking in breaths he didn’t need. He placed one hand on top of his bulging stomach, the little one being quite lively within.

“Seems like the small rogue in here has a lot of opinions about what just happened.”
“Do they now?”, she laid her hand on his stomach as well, “hey little one. It’s alright, my Dear,” she placed a kiss at the apex of his stomach, right where his belly button was. The babe soon calmed. A nagging guilty feeling wormed its way into the heart of the vampire. He could clearly smell the sweet ambrosia that was his lover's arousal. 
“Do you need to? Should I?” He stammered, still trying to form coherent thoughts post orgasm.
“What? Oh no. I’m fine, Star. I don’t need to get off right now. Would you like to cuddle on the couch? Or do you need another round?”. 

He imagined it, for just a moment. Her head between his legs, sucking his small cock and savoring all the juices his hole gave her. She was so very skilled at giving oral and it was probably her favorite way of getting him off as well. The sensitive nub between his legs throbbed in response, his body clearly eager for another climax. However, the emotional intimacy was something he would never pass up. “Cuddling sounds great. Although my legs feel a bit wobbly, I might need some help” he answered eventually. The cleric coaxed her lover to heave himself up to sit on the table's edge, embracing him in a hug when she stood up to help him to his feet. 

They slowly made their way to the small couch to the right of the room. A ludicrous amount of pillows and blankets being piled on top of it. Astarion immediately snuggled up to the tiefling once they were both situated on the sofa, a content sigh leaving the rogue's lips once they were both situated. Atalanta chuckled beside him and placed tender kisses on his forehead, wiping away a stray curl in the process. He cheekily pulled away and stole a real kiss from her, smiling before nuzzling his head against her chest. He loved listening to his lovers heartbeats, it always calmed him and made him feel safe.

The cleric threaded her fingers through the pale elfs silvery curls, gently scratching his scalp. He all but melted into her touch. He felt incredibly warm and cozy right now. The rogue closed his eyes in pure bliss and felt a familiar weariness wash over him. He could certainly go for another nap right now, safe and sound in his partner's arms. He had barely tranced or slept the day before, one again plagued by nightmares. He slowly let himself be lulled to sleep barely registering his partner whispering to herself.
„You look so good, Moonflower. So well taken care of“
„I feel very taken care of“ he slurred, somewhere between the waking world and the land of the dreamers. She kissed his forehand yet again, only hugging him tighter in response.

He fell into a short, dreamless sleep being awoken by the sound of his lovers talking about something. He wasn’t awake enough yet to make out what they were saying, Halsin‘s voice a deep rumble while Atalanta's timbre was airier and lighter. The rogue stirred suddenly, causing the chatter to stop between the other two.

„Good evening, my Heart '' Halsin said to him, his voice light and soft. Astarion opened his eyes, he was still safely nestled in the cleric's arms, the druid settling to sit in a lounge chair opposite to them.
„You‘re back. How long have I…?“
„About 1,5h“ the tiefling chimed in and he hummed in acknowledgement.
„What were you two talking about? Before I woke up. You don’t have to stop just because I’m awake“ he probed. It was unusual for them to keep something from him but he had an inkling.

„It’s about the book Atalanta has been reading. We were just“, the druid sighed, „we have hardly found out anything these past few months and with the due date creeping closer and closer. We’re worried about you and the babe“. It was an odd sight seeing Halsin so openly worried and out of options, it always seemed he had an answer for everything. Worry crept its way into the vampire's heart, the usual anxieties of pregnancy only further fueled by his partners' worry for him and their child . He protectively cradled the swell of his stomach, as if the gesture could protect the little dhampir within.

„But both of you said you have delivered multiple children and overseen a few pregnancies before?“ there was an edge to his voice now, all tiredness washed away as he sat up straight and alert.„We have“, Atalanta soothingly lulled. She tried to touch his shoulders but the rogue flinched when her hands came near him. She backed away, settling her hands neatly in her lap where he could see them.
„It’s just that we’re not experts on vampires. There are too many unknown variables for our liking. We would like a bit more certainty. However, that isn’t exactly possible it seems“ she added.
That was true. Astarion told them everything about his condition that he knew. Cazador purposely kept his spawn in the dark about pretty much all the details of his „gift“. His withholding of knowledge was another demonstration of his power and ownership over Astarion and his siblings. All he had learned was either through his own first hand experience or his siblings. Wait there was an idea.

„I know someone who might know more. She painstakingly kept notes about our vampirism and tried her best to look for a cure. My sister, you have met her before Atalanta. The one with Petras we met in the Flophouse“
„The white haired one?“
„Dalyria yes. She was a doctor before Cazador turned her. We all needed something to keep the madness at bay and she turned to compiling all our joint knowledge about our condition. She was Cazadors first along with Aurelia so that’s way over two centuries worth of knowledge.“
„He let her keep the notes?“ Halsin inquired. In all their time together he had not once heard him refer to his lover's former master by name. Cazador was just him or that one, a ghost from Astarions past not worthy of being named.

„I always wondered about that too. Maybe the sick bastard hoped she would eventually find a cure? Maybe he knew we all needed something to not fully break. He let me keep my blanket too.”
He felt their child squirm within him, a soft nudge to the right. He carefully rubbed the taunt skin on his belly where he felt the little one move. 
“We could send a message to the underdark? Not mention any details and try to appeal to the scholar in her. She’ll take the bait and be on her way immediately. I’m certain she wouldn’t have left for the underdark without her notes.“
„You don’t want them to know you're pregnant?“ Atalanta asked. 

„No. It‘s too dangerous. I trust Dal more than the other five, so I know I’m safe with her once she’s here. She patched me up more times than I can count. Even after all the terrible things we had to do to each other for Cazadors pleasure."
Even though their master insisted they were one big family there was hardly anything like love between the seven of them. They were bound to each other by circumstance and constantly pitted against each other. Screaming matches and fights that turned physical were an almost daily occurrence with seven starved vampire spawn sharing a crowded room with bunk beds.
„But  she...didn’t she kill your brother's daughter? Are you sure she should come here?“ the tiefling questioned out loud, brows knitted tightly together in concentration. That’s right, he had almost forgotten about Victoria. The day that they killed Cazador all blurred together in his mind.

„What?“ Halsin gasped, alarm clearly audible in his tone. They had a huge orphanage in the village and from the sound of it this woman shouldn’t be around children. He hadn’t been with them the day they met her and Petra’s at the flophouse or when they killed Cazador.
„She has, yes. But that means the others won’t follow her, because they don’t trust her. I don’t know exactly why she thought killing the girl would cure her? It seemed like an act of desperation, wholly out of character for her. I promise you I wouldn’t want her to come here if it wasn’t safe. But she is the closest to an expert about vampirism I know and I value her opinion. I have also done regretful things so I can hardly hold this against her“. He looked between both his lovers as they seemed to contemplate his suggestion. 

The cleric next to him sighed and eventually said: “we‘ll send a bird to look for a vampire drow in the underdark tomorrow. Can you write her a letter to explain the situation?” He nodded.
„A drow? She’s a drow?“ he heard Halsin mumble across from him. “Yes, is that an issue?” The sudden question about her race irritated him.
“No. I was just…..forget that I said that” the wood elf hastily added but didn’t elaborate further. He decided to let it go and not get into that particular discussion right now.

He spent the remaining evening writing and rewriting the letter for his sister until it was just perfect. They would send out the bird come dawn and hopefully it wouldn’t take long to reach the colony. She shouldn’t be hard to locate. Cazador had a thing for elves but during all this time Dal remained the only drow that was turned. They were strictly forbidden to bring home drow marks because of their “tainted taste” whatever that meant. If she took them up on their offer however, remained to be seen.

Chapter Text

The next couple of nights were uneventful. The bird they sent soon returned, ensuring Halsin he had delivered the letter, as instructed. It had been nearly a tenday plus a half since then and Astarion was starting to doubt she was ever going to show up. He mentioned none of this to his partners of course, trying to come off as optimistic. The vampire did nightly rounds around their small home to look for any signs of vampire activity, but finding none so far.

Right now he was laying stretched out on their small sofa, feet propped up on Halsins lap. The wood elf was massaging his swollen feet and ankles, providing a blissful relief to the constant strain on his body. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling all stress and anxiety leave him under the druids' careful ministrations.
„Gods, what would I do without you? That feels so good“ the rogue purred. His partner chuckled, the low sound vibrating in his chest made Astarion swoon.
„It’s nothing, my Heart. It brings me so much joy to provide for you. Would you like to read something after that? Nettie sent me some new books.“
„That sounds good, but let me do my nightly round really quick, before Atalanta returns as well“. He felt the druid still his motions for a moment, clearly debating on whether or not to speak up.

„Star, I don’t think she’s going to show up.“
„Oh she will. I know her.“
„It’s been a tenday and a half. She should‘ve been here by now. Even considering her limited way of traveling. There’s enough caves and forgotten ruins for her to seek cover during the day. Either she perished during her way or“, he sighed, „or she never left in the first place.“
Logically the high elf knew that Halsin was right. But something inside of himself couldn’t accept the fact that his lover might be correct. 

„Well you never wanted her here in the first place. Of course you’re trying to dissuade me now“ his tone was harsher than he wanted it to be.
„Astarion I didn’t mean it like that“ the wood elf didn’t stop caressing his feet and suddenly the soothing touches felt revolting. They made the rogue want to crawl out of his own skin.
„Stop touching me!“ he hissed and Halsin immediately ceased to do so. Concern was clearly visible in his hazel eyes.

Astarion heaved himself into a sitting position before standing up properly. „I’m sorry Halsin. I- “ he paused before continuing properly, “ Please can you just let me do this? I’ll be right back. I know you mean well, but I can’t give up yet“. He avoided his partner's gaze entirely, unable to take the worry it held for him.
„Of course. Can I come with you? It is late and I worry-“
„Darling, I am pregnant, not deathly ill! Besides that I can fend for myself quite well, as you know. Not that I need to in a village as small as this.“
„Alright“. He did look at Halsin then, the tall elf clearly resisting the urge to hug him.

„Besides that, you would scare Dal away. She doesn’t know you and a man of your stature would frighten her.“ He put on one of his coats and slipped into some wooden slippers. Too proud to ask Halsin to lace his boots for him. „I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, my Dear“ he drawled as he made his way outside. Halsin said nothing as he left and closed the door behind him.

Astarion made his usual rounds around the perimeter of their home. Their house was situated a couple of yards away from everybody else. He had indicated this in the letter as well, so in theory there should be no mistake in where Dal needed to go. If she ever left, that is. Now he was starting to think like the wood elf, but the words did nag at him. It’s not that he hadn’t wondered about this before but that he and their child couldn’t afford to. He probably placed way more faith in the drow than he reasonably should.

He was about to turn back when he saw a pair of ruby eyes flash in the darkness for just a few seconds. „Hello?“ he called out, slowly creeping towards the bush where he had seen the movement. The vampire suddenly noticed how utterly defenseless he was. He had brought none of his daggers with him and even if he had, his center of balance had shifted and he wouldn’t be as quick as he used to be. What if one of the others had come instead? Wanting to settle some old grudge between them. He put one hand protectively over his stomach. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

„Dal is that you?“ he called out into the darkness, much louder this time. For a couple of seconds nothing happened and Astarion felt embarrassed, calling into the void like this. But then he heard something stir.
„I’m sorry brother, I needed to make sure it was you“ a small voice called out from behind a bush. Her voice sounded cracked and raw. Was it from yelling or just disuse?

The drow slowly stood up. She was still wearing the same outfit she had as a spawn under Cazador, but travel had made it filthy and tattered. She looked weak. Had she been in a hurry to get here and not had time to feed? The local wildlife population was on a steady rise. There was ample prey to hunt during this time of year if one had enough stamina.
„It’s good to see you, Sister“ he tried to make his voice sound as pleasant as possible. Truth be told now that she was here, he had no idea how to react.

Dalyrias eyes never once left the hand on his swollen stomach. There was something in her gaze for just a fraction of a second. Wonder, disgust, awe? It was gone as quick as the rogue noticed it. The drow settled on an expression that feigned disinterest. Open displays of any emotion that wasn’t panic, were all beaten out of them during the first decade of their servitude. It was seen as „mocking“ or „talking back“ to the master of the house and was punished accordingly by either Cazador or Godey. They each had different default responses. Dal as well as Aurelia made themselves look as neutral as possible. Never showing what went on inside their heads. Astarions coping mechanism was to smile, feign niceness because maybe (just maybe) that would save him from getting beaten. It never did, of course.

„How is that possible?“ she muttered so quietly Astarion had to strain his ears to hear her.
„Well it’s quite a surprise isn’t it? Let’s all get caught up inside won’t we?“
„Yes of course“ the spawn made her way towards him stopping right beside him. „It’s good to see you too, Astarion“ she smiled.
„Likewise. Come with me. It’s not far“. They made their way back to the house in silence. It was only a short way back but Astarion already felt out of breath.

„Do you need to sit down?“ Dalyria questioned.
„No I’m good. It’s right over there. My stamina is not what it used to be“ he punctuated the last sentence with a laugh, trying to make her feel at ease. Still the tension between them remained. They reached the front door and the drow awkwardly hovered there for a second.
„Ah yes. You are allowed to enter, come in” the other vampire huffed, all out of breath. She easily passed the threshold after that.

Halsin had not moved and was standing in the middle of the room awkwardly, when the two spawn entered the house.
Dalyria yelped when she saw him, shoulders coming up to protect her neck. Halsin felt pity for the woman, to have such a reaction ingrained into her. “It’s okay. I am the druid Halsin” he raised his hands in peace and slowly made his way towards the two.
The doctor whimpered in response, looking ready to flee at any second, just as Astarion had told him she would. Her eyes were wide with panic.

Astarion grabbed her wrist. “Dal it’s okay. You probably expected someone different here and she’ll be here soon. Halsin is my other partner. Despite what he looks like he’s safe. I promise”
“I’m sorry” the drow stammered, still shivering.
“It’s okay. It’s not something you can control. I am glad to finally meet you” the wood elf took a few steps back. Astarion nodded to him in thanks.
“Let’s all get situated and get caught up, won’t we?” the high elf announced cheerily, trying to lighten the mood.

Astarion and Dalyria sat down on the couch. That way she could easily see the door when Atalanta returned. The drow clung to him like a small, lost child. Halsin settled in a lounge chair opposite to them. “So is he the…?” she croaked, not finishing the sentence and just looking at his stomach instead. Now that he had shed his coat she could see just how big he already was.
“Yes, he’s the father. It was an accident, really. Apparently being well fed and then drinking a lot of blood beforehand can make a vampire get pregnant. Who would’ve known? Not us aha!”“That is very peculiar, indeed” the crease between her brows deepened as she frowned. The rogue knew that look well, she was already invested to figure out every detail of this.

“How far are you?”
“About 6 months along. And I’m already huge” he pouted which earned him a chuckle in response.
“It’s unusual for your first, that is true. However you’re petite so that only makes you look larger. Also the baby’s dad is a big guy, so they probably are too. Are they developing well?” This time it was Halsin, who answered for him. “Yes. Me and Atalanta are both monitoring him very closely, until now the little one has hit all their milestones”.
“That is wonderful news. Congrats Stari” she smiled at him in earnest. The rogue hadn’t seen her smile like this very often, in a way that reached her eyes.

“You can say hi to them if you want. They react quite well to voices and touch at this point” he urged. Usually he hated it when anyone, but his partners, touched his stomach and visibly flinched anytime someone he wasn’t close to reached out to touch him. But the woman that stitched up his wounds for hours on end could hardly be classified as a stranger. She tenderly reached out, placing her flat palm at the apex of his stomach. “I never pictured you this…..domestic? But it suits you. You look good, happy even” Her hand running soothing circles over his belly. As if on cue he felt a strong kick where her hand was.

“See? What a show off! Well done little love” he cooed, praising the babe. “Yes, I do feel very happy. Even though it wasn’t planned this way, it all worked out in the end didn’t it?”
“You deserve it” the drow murmured, still idly patting his pregnant stomach.
“So do you. No matter what happened. You know that, right?” He had no intention of bringing up their last meeting so soon. But it seemed like it was a dead weight between them, holding either of them back. She gave no answer to that, instead pretending he had said nothing. 

The druid looked anxiously between the two. The tension felt palpable even though he could only begin to understand what horrors these two had been through. Astarion had told them many times of the torture he suffered and each time anew it made him incredibly angry. His stories were limited to that though. The wood elf suspected he had left out his siblings by choice, that there was too much animosity between them. Even though they were all victims in their own right.

“Would you like to take a bath first, Dalyria? Atalanta will be here soon and I’m sure she wants to hear about you and your siblings as well. You would only repeat yourself.” The doctor seemed incredibly thankful for the reprise, nodding in agreement. There were only bodies of running water along her travel route here, she likely hadn’t bathed in several days by the looks of it.
“You can take some of her clothes. The emerald dress would look good on you, she never wears that one. I’ll go get it” Astarion mumbled instantly, rising to his feet and going to fetch the clothes.

Halsin cleared his throat, also rising swiftly after Astarion had left. Something deep inside him told him to not turn her back to her, so he busied himself with cleaning. She didn’t look at him, choosing to write something down in a tattered notebook instead. The vampire soon returned to them with the dress in hand, lifting the awkward silence. He went on telling his sister about the piece, how he had painstakingly embroidered it with silver floss to match the moon maidens glow until his fingers were raw. The rogue gestured widely while doing so, engrossing the drow fully in their mundane conversation.

The druid moved on to prepare the bath, leaving the two spawn in the small living room. 
The high elf walked to a small shelf towards their left, producing a small bottle of blood and pressing it into Dalyrias hands. „You should feed. You look weak.“
„But you need it more than I do“ she mumbled, slightly dumbstruck by so many open displays of kindness from him. The Astarion she knew was mostly concerned about one thing and one thing only: himself. Years under Cazador had made all seven of them cruel and callous in different ways.

„You can hunt tomorrow. I can feed on one of my partners tonight. Now drink“ he urged. The doctor didn’t need to be asked twice. She removed the small bottle stopper and downed the contents in one single swoop. It was pig's blood, from an animal that had died of old age, but not diseased. It wasn’t the best blood, but certainly better than anything she managed to feed on in the last tenday and a half.

The wood elf returned to them soon after, announcing that the bath was ready to be used.
„Help yourself to any of the soaps you like. Mine are on the right top shelf“ Astarion called out to the drow as she left the room. She nodded in understanding before closing the door behind her.

The vampire moved to sit back down on the couch, watching his lover occupy himself with meaningless tasks. He seemed restless somehow and Astarion hadn’t seen him like this in a very long time. Usually nothing could move the giant elf, but if you knew what to look for one could easily recognize the other's stress signs.
„You okay darling?“ he lulled, hoping to sound soothing in a non mocking way.
Halsin froze slightly for a moment, as if Astarion had broken him out of a slight trance.

„Yes“, he stuttered softly. „Yes, I’m alright. Just a bit, standing next to myself I guess“ he murmured.
„Is something bothering you?“ the rogue inquired, now clearly concerned.
„No. I mean I don’t think so? I’m not so sure exactly“. It was very unlike Halsin to be so imprecise.
„You can talk to me if she makes you feel uneasy. I understand it’s one thing to have a vampire around that you know and love, but another when it’s essentially a stranger“.
„You were a stranger once too, my Heart,“ he replied instantly. The rogue smiled smugly at that. 

„Well but not for long. Even before we three became official, I saw how you looked at me. Lusting after a taken man like that! I am shocked“ he put his hands before his mouth in a mocking display of being offended. The druid laughed at that, joining his partner on the couch again. „Well it all worked out for me in the end, didn’t it?“ he whispered, pulling the pale one as close as his baby bump allowed, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

A small huff left the smaller one's mouth. He seemed about to say something when both elves heard his stomach growl in protest. The mere smell of blood had spiked Astarions appetite again, his body adamant he got his fill as well.
“You haven’t fed yet?” Halsin questioned, his lover's gaze fixated on the other's strong jugular vein.
“I wanted to wait for Atalanta”
“Go on. Feed from me instead” the wood elf mumbled, moving his hair away from his neck for better access. The rogue swallowed, throat bobbing up and down at his partner's proposal. The mere thought of Halsins rich blood made it awfully hard to resist.

“But you’re with the children tomorrow. You need your strength” he mumbled, trying to cling to the last remaining parts of his reasoning.
“And you are well past your feeding time and look ravished. We both know animal blood won’t be enough now“ the older one reasoned. His voice was calm and gentle as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Perhaps to him it was. Predators needed other animals' flesh to sustain them, his lover needed blood. It was only natural.

Unable to come up with further justifications to delay the inevitable, the vampire moved to sit on Halsins upper leg, giving him better access to his neck. He searched the druid's hazel eyes, looking for renewed consent. His lover simply nodded and immediately the high elf moved to sink his teeth into his partner's neck. Hot blood gushed out of the wound and filled his mouth. It tasted rich and earthy, like a finely aged vintage. The druidic magic left a slightly tangy aftertaste in the rogues mouth but that only made it more intoxicating.

“Very good. Have your fill, my Love. Take what you need” Halsin rasped. The pale one suppressed the need to whimper in response, as usual very much affected by praise. He drank in deep gulps, taking more than he usually would. The druid let him indulge tonight, offering up no protest of his own. They heard movement at the door immediately followed by a rattle at the doorknob. The wood elf curled his arm around the vampire's midsection protectively. An act motivated by pure instinct: protect your mate in a vulnerable position. Protect your child.

Atalanta entered the small house, smiling brightly when she saw both of them on the sofa. Astarion unsheathed his fangs from his lover's neck, licking over the two puncture wounds to catch any stray droplets of blood. He kissed the wound softly to apologize, before placing more tiny love bites all over his lover's neck. The druid's hot blood pooled in his belly, fully satiating him for the time being. Halsins arm around his stomach provided gentle pressure, making his head spin in the best way possible.

“Astarion. Enough” the wood elf raised his voice in a gentle warning. The pale elf ceased marking up his lover any further, but still remained pressed as closely to the tall one as he could. Halsin mumbled a simple incantation, magic working through him as all wounds disappeared.
“You really let him indulge tonight” the tiefling noted, moving closer to the pair. She practically squealed when she finally touched Astarions face, her hand gently caressing his cheek. The vampire noted his face felt unfamiliarly hot, he must be blushing then.

When he consumed a great amount of blood the vampire was able to blush, ever so slightly. Much to the delight of his partners. They loved watching his cheeks flush just the palest shade of pink. Or watching it spread from his neck to his chest. The rogue nuzzled against the pale blue hand of the cleric, looking at her with half lidded eyes. He heard her pulse quicken and her heartbeat increase.

It filled him with pride that even after all this time, he was able to affect her like this. “You feel nice and taken care of, Star? He spoiled you, didn't he?” it was phrased like a question but her tone made it sound like a statement. An absolute.
The vampire made an agreeing sound, slowly coming down from his post-feeding rush. She leaned forward, tenderly kissing the high elves forehead before moving to Halsin and placing a kiss to his lips.

“We have company,” Halsin said. Astarions brain, still too mushy to form coherent sentences. The tiefling instantly perked up. “Dalyria is here? Where is she?” She was looking around the small living room, as if she had missed a fourth person being there the whole time. “She’s taking a bath right now. Travel took quite the toll on her. We gave her some of your clothes to wear for the time being. Is that okay?”
“Oh- of course that’s fine” she assured the druid. The cleric moved on to sit in one of the lounge chairs. She seemed about to inquire about further details of the spawns' arrival, when the bathroom door opened. The pale drow emerging from within.

“It’s so good to see you!” Atalanta called out. The doctor seemed taken aback at first, mind searching for a trick question or hidden meaning but found none. Just pure joy at seeing her again.
“It’s good to see you too, Atalanta” the other echoed. “Are you doing okay? Are you hungry?” the youngest one instantly doting on the new arrival. She was family after all. “I’m alright thank you. Astarion and your other partner already took great care of me. Or wait, is he your partner too? Or are you only with my brother?” The drow seemed unsure about how to ask about the relationship of the three of them. But by now, they had had this conversation countless times.

“We're all in a committed relationship with each other. But you couldn’t have known that, it’s good to ask” the tiefling soothed her, not mocking her wanting to know. The spawn asked no further questions, her thirst for knowledge satisfied. It also helped that their configuration was probably rather tame, considering what she had seen under the 200+ years with her master.

“But enough about us. How have you and the other spawn been?”
“We made it to the underdark shortly after we left the palace. Some perished on the way but most survived. We have established a small colony there. It is dirty, unsafe and uncertain how long we can stay there. But we made do with what we have” the drow elaborated.
“But is the underdark not home to you? Aren’t you happy to finally return?” the cleric questioned. An indifferent expression settled on the spawns face. 
“I have few memories of my past life, none of the underdark itself. I do not speak undercommon, after centuries of only speaking common and elvish in the palace. I thought, maybe some memories would return once I was there, but they haven’t. It is just a place, like any other” the doctor elaborated cold and calculated.
“Also, considering the Master turned me in Baldur's Gate, I assume there is a reason I left the underdark in the first place” she added, further explaining her reasoning.

“I see. I’m sorry” the cleric meekly replied, put off by the sudden cold demeanor. It reminded her of Astarion, coldly recalling the torture he went through. Methodically reciting the facts as if all this had happened to someone else long ago.
“What about the others?” Astarion spoke up.
“They are well. We have a regular hunting schedule so that everyone gets fed and everyone that has stayed until now keeps to it. Leon and Relia rose up as de facto leaders, naturally”. The pale elf made an agreeing humming sound. Aurelia was by far the most diplomatic among them and Leon, as a sorcerer, was naturally charismatic.

“And what about you?” he questioned. His sister didn’t immediately reply, seeming to filter out how much she wanted to tell him just yet.
“I mostly keep to the edges of the colony. I am not allowed to participate in most of their activities and hunt only for myself. Spawn still come to me when they are ill but I haven’t set foot in there for a long time”
“Because you choose to?” the druid questioned. Communal living like they had implemented it seemed alien to him, after being Archdruid of the emerald groove for so long. Shunning of bad apples was never the answer. He almost felt pity for her, but then reminded himself of what exactly her crime had been.

“I am not allowed inside. Leon would kill me and Petras and some others would probably join in” there was true hurt in her voice now, the drow unable to keep her emotions bottled up any longer.
“That is why it took longer for me to get here than I wanted to. I needed to wait for the right moment. They all seemed suspicious when the letter was addressed to me only. I told no one that you asked me to come to the surface to find you, but my curiosity had been peaked.”
“As I hoped it would. I know you well, sister” the rogue drawled, pleased his little plan had unfolded exactly as he hoped it would.

“I assumed it was just theatrics to be honest? But I understand your caution now. I do not know how the others would’ve reacted to your….condition. Especially Leon”
“We were hoping we could pool our knowledge for vampirism to know what to expect in the upcoming months” Atalanta said wanting to stir the conversation back to why the drow was here in the first place.
“All of this would purely be theoretical of course. None of us have met a dhampir in the long years of our unlife. But I can make some educated guesses''
"That is more hope than we have had in months” Atalanta sounded so relieved.

“Lets compile our knowledge tomorrow, unlike you two Atalanta and me are no creatures of the night” Halsin hummed. The tiefling yawned as if underlining her partner's prior statement.
“You can trance here in the living room. Do you need anything to fall into trance easier?” Astarion asked.
“No, the sofa should work just fine. I am used to much more spartanic bedroll at home” the drow said.

_______________________________

Halsin could not slip into trance easily that night.Now matter how he twisted and turned, the restlessness prevailed keeping him from slipping into reverie. Both his partners had long since fallen asleep curled up in each other's arms, a mess of entangled pale limbs and blankets. It reminded him of when their party had ventured into the underdark, his companions blissfully asleep while he was only able to slip into trance by the aid of mind numbing substances.

Perhaps that was what it was, their drow visitor still carried the last remaining trances of underdark smell with her. His mind instantly sent him back to that cursed place. The wood elves' chest suddenly felt awfully tight, anxiety sweat spreading across his forehead and back. He needed to get out of here right now.

He rose from their bed as calmly as his body allowed, trying to even his breathing. His chest ached in protest, constricting further and further with each passing second. He could feel his heart hammering against his breastbone. Perhaps this was how he was going to die? Of sheer fright, or a heart attack. He tried to remember what his own father and grandfather had died off, but his oxygen deprived brain provided no answers to his pleas.

He heard a murmuring from the entangled mess of limbs that were his lovers, awoken by the sudden shift in weight. Mismatched eyes glared at him in the darkness, trying to blink away the tiredness.
He wordlessly left their bedroom, through the small backdoor attached to it. He feared his voice would betray him.
As soon as he was outside he ran, he had no idea where but just needed to be elsewhere. 
His breath came in short shallow gasps, his lungs unable to get enough air into them.

The druid's vision began to swim around him and the smell, that godsforsaken smell, was still inside his nose. He was in the underdark again, watching himself get shackled to a bedpost, saw himself lie there in his own filth, begging and pleading. 
Nausea rose inside him and the tall elf emptied his stomach contents into the grass beneath him. His body felt completely numb, it didn’t belong to him any longer. He rode out the uncomfortable feeling in waves, completely at the whims of his failing body. He truly thought he was going to die like this. He would never meet his child.

However, after a while his breathing calmed again, his heart beating in its regular pattern once more. He sank to his knees, completely exhausted. He thanked the Oakfather in a silent prayer, unsure of how long this episode had lasted. He had those ‚events‘ as he liked to call them often in his youth, after his return to the surface. Even the slightest thing that reminded him of his time in captivity, sent him into a dangerous spiral. He had since seen the same reaction in others that had been severely traumatized, last of all Astarion. His firsthand knowledge of states like this aided him as a healer. His patients always thanked him afterwards.

However that knowledge did not help his body to obey him. The wood elf thought he had moved past this, after having been fine when he last visited the underdark. Sure, his mood had been severely down the entire time, but he had been spared this. Whatever it was. For a while he just sat there in the grass, feeling the small stems tickle his naked flesh, listening to nature all around him. He moved to a nearby body of water, cleansing his mouth from the taste of his own vomit.

Eventually he moved towards their house again, his limbs felt like they were weighed down by heavy armor. His consciousness was still floating somewhere just barely outside his body. He returned through the small backdoor, in his haste he hadn’t even closed it previously. The same mismatched yes gazed at him worriedly, Astarion remained in a deep trance under various blankets.
“Everything alright?” the tiefling whispered as softly as she could.
“I got sick” he heard himself mumble in a voice that was barely his own. She immediately knew he wasn’t telling the truth, the druid unproficient in the art of lying. She chose not to challenge his statement, filing away this information for the daytime. The cleric crooked her head, urging him to come back to bed and Halsin did. He fell into trance swiftly but it brought him no rest.

Chapter Text

Morning came much sooner than the wood elf had hoped it would. He half-hoped his partner would just let it go, forgetting to comment on the events of the night prior. The cleric's weight on him was a welcome distraction, grounding him in the present. Her ever-spiraling horns pressed into the curve of his collarbone. Halsin got little rest, tossing and turning until the early morning hours. He felt both on edge the whole time, his body buzzing with leftover fear, and utterly exhausted all at once.  
Astarion feeding from him the evening before had also led to a major headache. The wood elf would have to waste a spell slot for this later. His vampiric lover had been severely disgruntled by all of the druid's nightly movement, choosing to get up in the early morning hours and move to their living room to bunk with his sister. Astarion loved his beauty sleep, and having it interrupted meant they would all deal with a severely grouchy vampire today.

Halsin could hear them now, Astarion and that doctor talking to each other in their shared tongue. She had that same stuffy inflection as their Star. He had chuckled the first time he heard it—even for a city-bred high elf, Astarion’s Elvish was awfully uptight, using words that hadn’t been in use for more than three centuries. It didn’t dawn on the wood elf until now that he probably sounded like this. Their proximity to the vampire lord led all his spawn to take on his manner of speaking.  
By now, he was used to the sound of the odd dialect, loving the way Astarion whispered small love confessions or utter filth to him in the ancient words.

Their other lover didn’t understand a lick of Elvish and would accuse her men of conspiring against her when she heard them speak in their native tongue. Of course, this wasn’t true (oh yes, it was always true). She was still snoring softly, unaware of the world around her. However, her breathing grew slightly more shallow with every torturous second that went by; she would soon wake up. Halsin should have long been up by now, on his way to the orphanage, but he couldn’t bring himself to rise.  
Atalanta stirred in his arms, as if she were determined to start the day for him. She blinked for a couple of seconds, as if unsure if he was truly there.

“You’re still here?” she mumbled, casting a cursory glance at their window to assure herself it was, in fact, morning. He let out an affirming grunt, hugging her tighter and tenderly kissing her forehead, right between her horns. The tiefling let out a content sigh, giving him a quick peck on the lips afterward.  
“Are you doing okay?” Her words were still barely above a whisper, but they burned in his overly sensitive ears.

“Yes,” he lied. He didn’t have to look at her to feel the scowl on her face. She wasn’t angry, just disappointed. Which might have been the worst thing she could have been.  
“Don’t pull away, Halsin. What’s bothering you?” The look she gave him was one he was intimately familiar with. However, it was usually directed at Astarion; she wasn’t supposed to look at him like this. He was fine. His pain was nothing compared to that of their other loves, so he shouldn’t mention it. What use was there in opening old wounds from over a century ago?

He felt it again, that slippery slope of his consciousness slipping outside his body. The only thing preventing it was her body weight on him, tethering him to this plane of existence.  
“Halsin?” she stroked his cheek carefully, just as she did with Astarion when she felt him slip away. It seemed she had a sixth sense just for that, noticing the little changes in behavior right away. The druid supposed that was what had made her such a good healer even before they all met.

“I’m okay, my love. It’s just,” he let out a sigh, “our guest made me reminisce on the last time I spent time with the drow.”  
“Do you want to talk about it?” she probed carefully.  
“In my youth, I spent three years in the Underdark,” he began, as if this were just any story from his youth, like one of the countless others he had entertained his partners with. She loosely wrapped her hands around his neck, nuzzling against his chest. Could she hear his increased heartbeat? Feel the sweat of anxiety breaking out?

“I wanted to see the local flora and fauna there. I had never seen any of it before, and you know how beautiful the Underdark is.”  
“Sounds fun so far?” she chimed in, her voice on edge, bracing for when things would inevitably take a bad turn.  
“My mentor had warned me not to go too deep. I was a young, naive man and didn’t listen. What could hurt an elf of my stature, after all?” he scoffed at his own foolishness.  
“I was captured by drow slavers and found myself in the home of a minor noble couple in Menzoberranzan. I was one of the lucky ones—they took a liking to me, and so they kept me alive.”

“Halsin, love, that’s—” she gasped, shocked at the implication.  
“For three years, I was something between a slave, consort, and captive. I was shackled to a bedpost unless I behaved very well.”  
“Love, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” Oh, there was hurt in her voice now. She seemed close to tears. Was this how her conversation with Astarion had gone? When he told her about what his master had done? But this was different. Astarion was a victim of his master's whims, but he—he wasn’t sure what he was.
“But it shouldn’t bother me now. I don’t know why I still…” Useless sounds poured out of his mouth like a flood. “My story is nothing like Astarion’s. I came to terms with it. I even enjoyed it.”  

For a long time, his partner said nothing, intent on taking in all the revelations he had just dropped on her.  
“You did what you had to do to survive,” she said eventually.  
“Yes, that I did,” he replied.  
“I don’t think, in a situation like yours, you could have done anything but go along with what was done to you. That doesn’t mean you enjoyed or consented to it.”  
“But I asked for sex often, and I initiated it most times. I did everything to avoid those first awful months, where they weren’t quite sure whether to keep me or not, treating me like some beast.” The druid tried to mediate, putting the blame on himself and himself alone. After all, that was easier. There was a certain comfort in self-inflicted misery.

Atalanta sighed, as if unsure whether to have this conversation now or not.  
“If it were Astarion saying all of this, would you agree with him?” Her voice was gentle, and he knew what she was getting at. Why couldn’t he explain to her that this was different?  
“No, of course not. But…” he stammered, “I…I don’t know.” She placed soft kisses on his wrinkled forehead, soothing some of the tension. He hadn’t noticed how on edge he was, every muscle pulled tight as if before a battle.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, my love. Next time, tell me when things get bad again, okay? You’ve suffered alone long enough. You can rely on us,” she whispered while nuzzling against his chest. Halsin felt his heart beating in his throat, but instead of giving in to the anxiety, he only held her tighter, exchanging more gentle kisses and caresses with his partner.

The happenings in the bedchamber went unnoticed by the two spawn in the living room; they were much too engrossed in their conversation to notice anything else. The pair had a lot to catch up on, especially the gossip. Astarion was delighted with how much gossip his sister had picked up from the spawn camp. Even when they were still living in the dormitory, Dalyria always acted like she was above simple pleasures like this, but he knew she enjoyed it just as much. It reminded him of the early days, with only her and Aurelia.

“Violet has started to play music again. I didn’t know she had such a beautiful singing voice,” she drawled on while scribbling something in her jam-packed collection of notes. He was sure she had a system for what to write where, but that was lost on him.
“Does she now? I knew she was a bard before but never heard her sing,” he replied while propping more pillows behind his lower back. Constant back pain seemed to be the newest symptom that had sunk its festering claws into him. The rogue let out a relieved sigh, some of the strain being lifted by enough fluffy cushioning.
“Yes, it’s quite beautiful, honestly. She is so much calmer now. But cross her, and she becomes the Violet we know so well. I suppose the music helps her,” she finished her prior elaboration before smiling at him. It must look ridiculous, a silver prince before his wall of pillows.

“The back pain is no joke, mh?” she joked. It didn’t come naturally to her; the doctor lacked most of Astarion’s wit and charm. Even when joking, her tone was still slightly analytical, as if copying what telling a joke was like. But the vampire was used to her odd ways; he wouldn’t have her any other way. Even after centuries of living here, the ways of the surface remained a mystery to her.
“Yes, the little one is getting quite heavy. I can’t really stand for long, and even sitting wrong hurts my back,” he bemoaned, and she let out a belittling cooing sound.
“My life is really hard, you know!” he pouted, and she placatingly raised her hands.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t want to switch with you.” She paused for a few seconds before continuing. “How do you feel about this—your body changing, I mean?” She tilted her head slightly. It was one of those things a person did without noticing, but it meant he had her full, undivided attention, a rare treat when it came to his sister, who was always preoccupied with a million things at once.

The rogue sighed, scratching his head and looking slightly past her, unable to stand her curious gaze.
“I feel better than I thought I would. I expected some bad feelings to come up, but it’s been mostly fine. Although I could do without the chest growth. But everyone’s been really nice, and Halsin has met some men like me who choose to carry their children. That makes it feel a lot less alienating.” She made an agreeing sound.

The vampire placed a hand on his belly, rubbing it lightly. “The little rogue can be happy that I love them so much. I mostly just miss wearing pants. Of course, I look gorgeous in robes too, but it’s not the same.”
It took a second for his sister to reply, as if she was waiting for the right moment or simply unsure of what was expected of her.

“If it’s any consolation, you look absolutely stunning. I guess the tales of elves’ beauty being more prominent during pregnancy are true,” she said eventually. He waited for a dismissive comment to follow, but it never came.
“Well, it is hard to improve on perfection, but yes, you are correct,” he couldn’t help but vainly add.

“Your partners seem to take good care of you,” she noted, and he nodded eagerly in response.
“Oh yes. We even came up with a funny little acronym! Most of the time, I am either angry, hungry, or horny. Or just ‘ahh’ for short. That’s pregnancy for you, I assume.” The drow chuckled lightly.
“That sounds pretty normal, from what I remember. You should keep some weight on after the baby is born. It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, Dal. Oh, but please keep some of Atalanta’s common clothes, dear. You’ve been wearing this outfit for the past two centuries. You deserve a little upgrade.”
He could almost hear her eye roll. “Well, if you insist, brother,” she replied curtly but no less annoyed by his antics. The drow was never one to obsess much about her appearance.
“Mind if I examine the little one some more?”
“Please, go ahead. That’s why you’re here, after all.”

Dalyria started to slowly feel along the walls of his stomach. Halsin had done similar things many, many times before, but his lovers’ examinations always involved way more talking, telling the rogue what it was that he was checking for and asking for consent at every step. His sister did none of that, but she had seen him in much more compromising ways a thousand or more times before. There simply was no need to reestablish that now, and Astarion was grateful for it. It felt familiar.

She placed one of her pointy ears to the other spawn’s stomach, listening for the babe’s heartbeat. “It is much slower than that of a regular humanoid. Fascinating,” she mumbled to herself. The little one, seemingly either very much loving or hating all the prodding and probing of the foreign voice, placed a rather hard kick right where her ear rested. With a surprised “Oh!” she backed away from him, ear lightly hitting the high elf’s bump.

“Ow!” Astarion cried in mock offense, smiling smugly at her. His sister was glaring daggers at him, huffing from embarrassment.
“It’s a feisty one, our little love. I don’t think they appreciated you interrupting their nap time.”
“Well, I apologize. But I was about done anyway,” the drow mumbled, moving further away from him.

“Be nice to your Aunt Dal, little rogue. She came a long way here to meet you,” he lulled while rubbing his baby bump in soothing circles, but to no avail. The little one continued their assault on his insides. Astarion let out a strained groan, the drow watching him with slight concern in her eyes. Her ears were halfway pulled back, betraying her otherwise neutral face.
“You okay, Starry?” she asked, voice neutral.
“I’m alright. They’re just throwing a tantrum right now. Their kicks are getting quite hard, and sometimes they hit something that makes my undead body hurt a lot.” The doctor made an acknowledging humming sound.

The vampire’s two partners entered the living room holding hands, finding the spawn siblings huddled together. Dalyria was trying to coach a slightly pained Astarion to do some breathing exercises, the rogue hunched over her and clinging to her in a mirror image of the prior evening.
“You have to breathe slowly, Astarion,” the doctor said, trying to get him to follow her lead.
“Gods, I know that, you idiot!” he snapped.

“Everything okay?” Atalanta called to the pair. The doctor immediately snapped to attention, her face twisting in fright. She started rattling off apologies: “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I—I didn’t mean to,” the drow whimpered, shivering and shaking. It was obvious to her that she was at fault for her brother’s pain, which meant she would be punished for it. It was how it had always been. How it should be, according to the cruel laws embedded deep inside her brain.

“What have you done?” the cleric asked, looking over to her vampiric lover for clarification.
“She did nothing. Woke the little one up during some routine examination, and now they’re throwing a fit. It’s getting better now,” he breathed deeply, the babe finally having settled again. He saw the tension leave both his lovers; this was not the first time this had happened. His sister was still shivering, head bowed in a submissive gesture—a habit that was hard to break. Astarion himself knew it so well, the crying fits at seemingly minor mistakes or perceived faults. Under Cazador, every mistake was punished to the fullest, no matter how minor it was.

Atalanta watched the other spawn with worry, the behavior undoubtedly reminding her of her Star. “Dal, love, it’s okay. Everything’s fine,” she tried soothing the drow. Dalyria tried to compose herself, to steel her face into a complacent mask, but her still-shivering hands betrayed her emotionless facade. As so often with the drow, she was unable to wear the mask successfully.

“Why are you still here anyway?” Astarion turned to Halsin, wanting to stir the conversation to a more idle topic, unaware of the can of worms he was about to open.
The druid took a deep breath before citing the same excuse: that he got sick and decided to sleep in because of that. The rogue tutted a half-hearted “Ah-huh,” clearly not buying it but not in the mood to ask for further clarification.

“I will see the four of you later tonight then,” the wood elf rumbled, getting ready to leave for the orphanage.
“Don’t let the kids get on your nerves too much,” Astarion remarked, the druid chuckling and moving over to kiss his lover goodbye. He kissed the rogue once, twice, and then a third and final time, earning a protesting whine. He seemed embarrassed by the display of such domesticity in front of his spawn sibling.

The druid kissed Atalanta too before bidding goodbye again, leaving the other three behind in the small cabin.
“Dalyria, would you like some fresh blood to calm you down?” the tiefling asked. The spawn visibly flinched when her name left the other’s mouth, as if she were still waiting for punishment for her prior misbehavior. The worry on Atalanta's face only further increased.
“I’m not hungry,” the doctor mumbled half-heartedly, and her brother scoffed loudly.
“Please, after going that long without blood, and you only had a small flask yesterday. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I don’t want to drink away at your stash!” she bit back.
“You won’t be, Dal. I’m offering. You can have some of my blood if you want. A well-filled stomach always calms Astarion down,” she said so matter-of-factly that the baffled drow almost believed it was true. She looked to her brother not in question but rather as if to ask for his permission to have a cut of his share.

He only shrugged.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s her decision what she wants to do. But be warned: she will kick your ass if you take too much. Don’t ask me how I know that.”
“I don’t know if I should. I haven’t tried any human blood… since Victoria,” she trailed off towards the end, as if she had just remembered it. “What if I can’t control myself?”
“You can,” Atalanta assured her. “After all, you’re here with us now, and you have yet to pounce on me or Halsin. You are not a monster. Just stop when I tap the back of your head twice, okay?” Dalyria nodded in response, and the tiefling sat down on the small sofa with the two spawn. She carefully extended her hand toward the drow, offering her wrist.

The doctor examined the offered appendage carefully, as if deciding just where the perfect place to bite was. After seemingly either coming to a conclusion or losing restraint, she leaned down, biting into the pale blue flesh. After taking the first couple of sips, she coughed and gagged, precious blood spilling out of her mouth and running down her chin. Atalanta cradled her head and told her to drink slowly. It was an odd sight for the high elf. Was this how he looked when he drank from his lovers, the same serene and blissed-out expression on his face? He felt a bit sick when all he felt was contempt. How vulnerable she looked like this.

The rogue remembered the first time he tasted human blood: Atalanta's blood. It was the biggest high he’d ever felt and an almost orgasmic feeling. Eventually, all good things had to end, however, and his lover gently coaxed his sibling to let go of her wrist. She showed way more restraint than he had the first time, so intoxicated by the taste of her blood that she had to physically push him away.
Dalyria's eyes were as big as saucers, and she slowly sank into the cushions, still completely in a world of her own.

Atalanta chuckled lightly, scratching the spawn’s head with one hand while healing and restoring herself with the other.
“How was it?” Astarion asked, only slightly jealous she got to taste her blood before he did that day.
“Extraordinary,” his sister replied, slightly breathless. He had never seen her look this good before, his partner's blood providing some color to his sister's pale complexion; the bags under her eyes disappeared in an instant. She looked as close to alive as he’d ever seen her.

The rogue cuddled closer to his lover, gently kissing along the curve of her neck. The air was still ripe with the sweet smell of her blood. It made his mouth water.
“Moonflower, do you want a bite too?” she asked, as gentle and as giving as ever.
“If I may?” he joked, catching her gaze through his silver lashes.
“Of course. Always. It’s my day off. I can spend my spell slots however I wish.”

He wasted no further air, no further sweet musing, and sank his teeth into her neck. The gesture was as intimate as it was familiar. This place was just for him to mark—a special bond between him and his partners. She let out a sigh as his teeth broke her skin, and he clung close to her, as if she were to disappear at any second. He didn’t need to be told when to stop; right when he felt her slowly weaken in his grasp, he pulled away, licking her wounds and placing a placating kiss on the bite marks.
The vampire felt a familiar warmth wash over him, the ever-present hunger fading into the back of his mind for a few blissful moments. He slowly felt himself go lax, as if he were turning into liquid. Bones and all made pliant by her sweetened blood. She held him gently and kissed his forehead with reverence. He thought she said his name, but it all seemed rather far away for the time being. The rogue let himself be moved by her, his liquid body far too uncooperative under the sheer weight of warmth.

The cleric situated herself in the middle, Astarion to her right with his head in her lap. He heard her coax Dalyria to her left side. Through half-lidded eyes, he could see she had just as much effort to move before eventually finding her place. Her head lolled further left, as if it took her great effort to keep it upright, landing on his lover's shoulder. She chuckled, delighted with the spawn pair.
“I thought only our Star got extra cuddly when he’s happy. My, how lucky I am—two happy, well-fed, and cuddly vamplings at my feet,” she mused while gently combing through Astarion's hair. He heard a familiar healing incantation, followed by a light blue glow that engulfed her as she restored herself.

“You’re too kind, love,” he murmured, rewarded with another airy laugh in response.
“I suppose I am. I just like seeing you happy and well-fed. Dal is family too, so the same goes for her, of course,” the cleric said, not a hint of malice in her voice.
“Thank you,” Dalyria chimed in. “You must never let her go.”
“I have no intention to, dear sister.”
“Good,” she all but purred.

The day stretched on lazily; at some point, Atalanta started to hum something—a sort of worship song for her goddess. When it was just the three of them, Halsin would sometimes chime in with a melody of his own. A small act of devotion for two gods that had not heard Astarion's pleas, yet they were ever present in his lover's lives. They had shown them signs and lessons to be learned. Divine intervention was possible, just not for him.

“Why do you really do this? Care for us as much as you do?” It was Dalyria who broke the silence. “Your goddess does not teach you that we are equal.”
“She does,” Atalanta corrected. “It is the cloisters that want to put clear lines on what is good and what is evil. I have divined with Selune multiple times in my life and heard her voice in my dreams. I do not believe she sees the world as black and white as much of the clergy does. So I don’t teach it. Not in the temple I helped fund, or to any other clerics I met outside.”
“But we are monsters,” the drow interrupted. He felt his undead heart ache. Astarion knew the hurt in his sister's voice because deep down, he believed so too.

“Then I like living together with gentle beasts. Does that answer the question?”
The conviction in the tiefling's voice was clear. As long as Astarion knew her, she had been as stubborn as could be once she formed an opinion on something. Dalyria seemed to recognize that too, falling silent soon afterward. They spent some more time cuddling, Atalanta switching between scratching either spawn behind the ears. Their small piece of heaven was interrupted by two stern knocks on the door. Both spawn flinched, frightened by the sudden noise. Atalanta cooed to them softly, interrupted by another stern knock.

“Atalanta. This is Phaedra. We need your aid back at the temple!” The voice pleaded. Astarion recognized it. He had seen the young novice once before.
“Is Isobel not the better choice? You know I can’t—”
“Please, Isobel and Aylyn are gone making preparations for the upcoming full moon ritual. We have a medical emergency and need a more experienced healer. The boy won’t make it until they are back, please,” Phaedra begged from behind their front door.

Oh, that would get her. Children close to death always got her, especially now that they themselves were expecting. Atalanta looked worriedly between the two spawn; he could see the gears in her head turning, going through all her options. The vampire knew what she would choose before she spoke.

“I’ll be ready in five minutes,” Atalanta called, gently pulling away from the two spawn and starting to pack a variety of things into a small bag. After gathering everything she needed, she approached the two spawn, now huddled together, trying to preserve their hard-earned body heat.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“I know, darling. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’m with a doctor, after all.” She chuckled ever so slightly at his attempt to lighten the mood, her face clear as day with how much it tore her apart to leave him behind.
“If I’m not back by nightfall, go to Halsin at the orphanage. They have the storytelling evening tonight, so he will likely be working late.”

Atalanta opened the door, sunlight streaming into her face, engulfing all of her. The precious light that Astarion once could walk in too. Now, all the happy memories the sight evoked were tinged with sadness. This was what being a young fledgling must’ve been like: mourning the loss of light you’ll never see again unless you have a death wish. She looked toward the pair one final time, Astarion tilting his head and urging her to go; he knew she would never forgive herself if the child died because she was late.

His lover nodded, and then she was gone, leaving two gentle beasts behind.