Chapter Text
The night of our reunion, I looked into the mirror, I was deathly pale, my neck littered with a pattern of two equally spaced dots, no, puncture wounds and the scar where that mangled flesh had been. My reflection and the steady beating of my heart, a reminder that I was still alive, I’m not a full vampire yet.
I don’t know how he did it and Astarion wasn’t either, but with his blood running through my veins he could control aspects of me. My freewill was one of them, much to his delight. I don’t know which one is worse, being a vampire spawn or being a half elf, half vampire spawn.
For Astarion to keep that iron grip on my freewill, he had to keep feeding me his blood, gods I hated it, the taste rancid with an undertone of iron. ‘Drink!’ was all he had to say, and well, drink I did, gagging all the while. Once his blood was pumping through my veins I was his puppet. ‘Undress and sit on my lap’, so with a simple, ‘yes master’, I would undress, his eyes gazing over my body, I would walk up to him, he would pull me down to his lap, his hands gripping me hard, possessively, warning to not move. He would tilt my head to the side and drink from me. He liked to do this whilst holding council, a simple reminder of how powerful he is, powerful enough that the Hero of Baldurs Gate had bent to his will.
When he wasn’t degrading me in front of people, he would have me service him, or kneel next to him. He willed it. I did it. I did it all whilst silently screaming, dreaming of way to end him and mourning the lose of the man I had loved.
As the month leading up to our reunion approached, our routine took shape. He would come in at sunrise, a vial ready for me to consume. But that day, 2 weeks before that fateful night, the routine changed. The sun rose and a gentle knock on the door, the door opened and in strode a halfling. He looked petrified, his skin a shade of gray, his eyes glazed over. He extended his shaking had, clasped within it was a vial, “m…m…master Ancnín, t…t…tol..,” he shakes and grips his head “ordered me to give you this to drink”, he placed it in my hand and rushed out the room. He didn’t stay to watch me drink the vile thing, Astarion sent someone else, was this a test, too see if I would drink it, see if I was indeed a half elf half vampire spawn, his spawn.
I was looking at the porcelain sink, watching the contents off the vial wash down the sink. I splashed my face with water, one hand turning the faucet, the other clutching the sink, I looked in the mirror, I was deathly pale, my cheeks looked hollow. Had I made a mistake? Would he find out and finally turn me, or just kill me? Or had I made a step towards my freedom?
I’ll choose and hope for the latter. I’ll play the part of a doting spawn, I’ll serve him and cherish him, make him think that I have unequivocally become his. His consort, his most cherished possession.
Astarion called for me, and like the doting half spawn I was, I went to him. I knocked on the large mahogany door, and stepped into the study. His desk positioned perfectly in the middle, scattered with papers and ledgers. I walked up to the desk, staring at him, showing a little bit of defiance and I kneeled before his desk, ‘my lord, you called for me?’, I watched him rise from his chair he walked around the desk slowly, he held his hand out, ‘rise my love’, he drew me into his embrace, arms wrapped around me. The scent of him flooding my senses, freshly chopped wood and honey. He murmured into my neck, ‘I’m sorry I was absent this morning my love, did you receive my gift?’, I knew he was on about the vial, here goes nothing, I looked into those ruby eyes, ‘ of cause, the halfling did look petrified, but the gift was appreciated, I did however miss you, though, your blood did make you feel close’ I closed my eyes and leaned into to kiss him, but our lips did not meet, his fingers gripped my chin, his lip twitched to right and then his lips slammed into mine, he kissed me like I was something worth savoring, worth memorizing, yet I’d never felt so worthless. Then I a sharp sting on my lower lip, the metallic taste rolled over my tongue, then Astarion broke the kiss and licked the blood now covering his lip, ‘oh, you do taste just so divine’.
The next two weeks were a blur the halfling would come and deliver the vile, I’d dispose the contents down the sink. Astarion would call to me and I’d play his doating spawn. And now here I stand looking in the mirror, death staring back at me”. The door opens and death walks in, he was wearing the suit that he had tailored to match the dress he ordered me to wear.
The dress was beautiful, though I hated to admit it. Black lace that shimmered with starlight, ran up my neck and down to arms, a peak of the lace could be seen at the top of the slit of my long black satin skirt that flowed to my feet. The satin bodice hugged my curves with the satin blending seamlessly into lace at my bust.
I felt the touch off his fingers on my neck, I try not to flinch, he grabs the clasp at the to of my dress and finishes buttoning it. He looks me in the eyes, pinning me in place, “you’ll tell no one of the marks on your neck”, I stare blankly at him and nob “yes, my lord”. With a wicked grin he leans towards my ear, “tonight is the night, when the moon hits it peak, I’ll drain you, then I’ll grant you a drop of my blood”.
“So I’ll be a spawn?” he chuckles, “do not worry my dear, you’ll only be a spawn for a few months, once the blood moon rises, we’ll be wed and you’ll be able to share my power with you and make you my consort. We’ll be the most powerful people in faerun, you do believe me don’t you?”. “Of course I do Astarion,” please believe my lies, as I most certainly do not.