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The night air, stale and muggy, filled Gale with a sense of dread as he stepped out of his tent for a nightly walk. He spent many evenings taking a stroll under the stars, usually in an attempt to clear his head and to prepare himself for another restless slumber. Stretching, his gaze was drawn towards what would usually be the night sky, instead being met by the looming darkness of the cave ceiling. Amidst his sleepy haze, Gale had somehow forgotten that he and the party had been traversing through the Underdark. What a disappointing sight to see, the stars were often his only company on a cold night.
Groaning, the wizard stepped into the dusty camp clearing. He had expected to be alone, most were asleep or at least resting in their bedrolls, yet he felt the all too familiar sensation of eyes gazing upon him from afar. Knowing better than to let his guard down and simply return to his tent, no matter how much he'd rather avoid confrontation at this hour, Gale remained vigilant and observed his surroundings. Bordering the camp were walls of mighty stone, a rather good defense against potential intruders, though it shrouded most of their tents in a dense black shadow and made some things rather hard to see without light. Being a talented wizard, Gale could easily produce some sort of light source. No, that could leave him open and vulnerable, both to attacks and to very grumpy campmates. He stayed still and silent, merely glancing around any time he heard the slightest noise.
“Pull yourself together, you great idiot.” He whispered to himself under his breath, a great sigh escaping his lips.
Perhaps he was just being paranoid, afterall he was not the only warrior in this group. If there was truly a threat, the others would have woken up by now. Taking a few moments to survey the area, just to be sure, Gale let his shoulders relax a little. Exhausting work, being so on guard. He was never so thankful to have studied magic in his life. Sure, it was hard dedicating your entire being to one craft, or in Gale’s case one deity, but he could never imagine himself standing beside the gates of some snobby palace all day. Just the occasional fight and lookout duty would do him nicely, thank you.
Finally satisfied, Gale stretched with a yawn and turned to groggily stumble back to his tent. Collapsing onto the scratchy sheets of his bedroll sounded like absolute heaven.
Now that he'd let his guard down, too focused on getting back into the warmth, Gale didn't seem to notice the unsteady feet dragging towards him. A low growl, a warning of what was to come emitted from the mysterious figure. Gale stopped in his tracks, the same chill he had felt earlier on slithering up his spine like a snake. The wizard broadened his shoulders, swallowing his fear as he craned his neck around to view his stalker. Sparks of purple weave bursting from his fingertips, the man caught a glimpse of white curls and piercing ruby eyes as he swivelled his body around to fully face the mysterious figure.
“Oh, Star,it's just you” He sighed with relief, body relaxing as he shook the purple away from his fingers. “You gave me quite a scare, you know.”
The vampire merely stared blankly, eyes glazed over and dulled. His stillness was unnerving. As a vampire , he didn't need to breathe, and so whenever he stood still there was no rise and fall of his shoulders or movement of his chest. It was as if he were truly a statue. Gale laughed nervously at this, sensing the unusual tension about the air as he edged towards his partner. With each cautious step he took, the vampire's stony gaze didn't leave him once. A low, animalistic groan cut through the silence like a knife, the source of the noise quickly becoming very apparent.
“Are you quite alright? You're acting rather strange.” Gale smiled through his nerves, hands squeezed in knuckle-white fists at his sides. It was hardly a secret to Gale that something was terribly wrong here, he had never seen anything like it. Dilated pupils, posture akin to a wilted flower and fangs bared for all the world to see. He was wild, unseeing. Feral.
He took a shaky breath, deciding that perhaps it would be beneficial to find a place to duck or hide if need be. Backing away ever so slightly, Gale kept his gaze firmly on the man in front of him. Sorting rapidly through the endless pages of information in his brain about vampirism, the wizard tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him. It could be a curse, though when a curse or hex is put on such a powerful creature, even the least perceptive mage could detect the smell of rot and evil on them. There was something he had read in a book during his studies…a paper on the effects of starvation in the undead. It was common to find packs of vampires who had lost their minds due to prolonged starvation, oftentimes due to the lack of a decent foodsource around them. The underdark was certainly the right spot for a condition like this to progress, that combined with the ravenous, empty look in his partner's ruby eyes told him his suspicions may have been correct
Ah. Well, that wasn't ideal. Gale knew he was going to have to choose his next course of action very carefully. He took a moment to breathe, eyes still trained on the man in front of him. Perhaps an attempt to bring him back to reality would help. It would be better than attempting to restrain him and accidentally injuring him.
Using a shield spell beforehand was probably wise, in hindsight, but Gale was too blinded by worry to think of anything other than getting his beloved back. He stepped forward, gently outstretching his hand towards the vampire, putting on his softest, kindest smile as he approached.
“Star-” Gale was cut off by two slender fingers grabbing the front of his robes tightly, hoisting him up onto his tiptoes.
Astarion bared his fangs, a guttural and deep growl emitting from deep within his chest as his grip on the wizard tightened.
“Star-Astarion-please-” Gale’s breath caught in his throat, gaze transfixed on the way Astarion seemed to stare right through him. The vampire sniffed the air, like a bloodhound searching for its prey. His Pupils dilated as he pulled Gale closer, pushing him to the ground and pinning all four of his limbs into the dirt below. Gale struggled against him, cursing Astarion for his vampiric strength. A few weeks ago, he could easily overpower the man, he was both stronger and more skilled in his area of expertise, but ever since Astarion had been feasting on the blood of their enemies…ever since he had started craving richer blood-
Perhaps the parasite did not have as much of a hold on his vampiric abilities as they had once thought. Thank Mystra it gifted him with the ability to walk in the sun.
A sharp, piercing sensation pulled him out of his thoughts, he had let his guard down too much it seemed. The pain eventually subsided, instead being replaced by a paralysing numbness that spread from his neck all the way down to his toes. Astarion wasn't moving, he wasn't spitting out the vile, viscous acid that ran through Gale’s veins instead of blood. No, he kept on drinking, sucking on the wizard’s neck with such desperation he was apparently oblivious to the fact that his nails had also pierced his skin.
The first thing Astarion felt was an overwhelming sense of nausea. He tore himself away from whatever he was eating, rubbing his eyes with his palm. Something wet and acidic burrowed itself into his skin, adding to his confused, nausea-foggy mind as he rolled over to vomit up whatever was in his stomach. Green-red bile arose from his throat and escaped his lips in a noiseless flood of gags and heaves, eyes watering as he choked and retched.
“What in the hells-” He rasped, taking a moment to catch his breath and wipe the strange substance from his eyes before turning to see what he had been feasting on. This was not the first time he had woken up to a mouthful of blood, though it had scarcely happened since he had left the clutches of Cazador. Turning to face his unfortunate victim, Astarion prayed to whatever God was watching that it wasn’t anything that could talk.
“Oh fuck.” Astarion screamed, scrambling towards Gale with unmatched speed. He felt as if he may vomit again, staring at the two puncture wounds embedded into his lovers now deathly pale skin. Placing his ear on the wizard's chest, Astarion breathed a sigh of relief as he heard a faint beat. He took in a shaky, unnecessary breath, shaky, blood soaked hands reaching to hold Gale’s face. He still had that lively, human warmth that Astarion so adored, but he smelled wrong. The blood smeared around his neck and soaked into both of his wrists made his usual scent smell rotten and acidic. Astarion gently checked his wrists for injuries, observing the nail marks with a quivering lip. What the fuck had he done.
Wordlessly, the vampire scooped the wizard up onto his lap, holding him close to his shivering frame. Gales head lolled against his shoulder, breath ragged against Astarion’s still chest.
Time seemed to freeze, it was just the two of them trapped in an instance of time. How could Astarion allow himself to lose control like this? To hurt someone he held so close to his heart. Gale could have died, and scrolls of reviving be damned, the damage would have already been done. Gale had trusted him, treated him like more than his body and yet he betrayed him. His head was spinning, he could feel himself spiralling as the tears fell down his face.
“-Arion. Astarion, hey come on soldier.” A warm sensation washed over his face, the orange glow of flames dancing across his blurred vision. He glanced upwards, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the brutal light in front of him. Karlach was kneeling before him, hand hovering over Astarion’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.
“There we are, focus on me yeah?” She leant back, sitting in front of him with a kind, unsure smile. He was unsure what she was doing, his head was swimming and he could hardly feel his arms anymore. Karlach gave him a pitiful look, breathing deeply as she began to speak again.
“You're okay, just relax.” The weight was taken from his lap all of a sudden, warmth replaced by the muggy night air. Whipping his head around, Astarion saw Halsin holding Gale in his arms, accompanied by Shadowheart and Wyll. He wanted so badly to tackle the druid and take Gale back, heightened emotions causing him to feel rather possessive of his love.
“Over here, soldier.” Karlach tore his focus away from the group, who seemed to be heading towards Shadowheart’s tent, urging him to keep his eyes on her and her only. Astarion knew what she was doing, distracting him so that he doesn't interfere with the others' situation. He should be furious at her for taking him away from Gale- but he was so tired.
“He'll be okay, we've been through worse than this” Karlach laughed gently, trying to lighten the mood. “Gale is one tough wizard, he'll bounce back from this.”
“I-I have no idea what happened- I just woke up on top of him-” Astarion started, voice cracking as he curled into himself. Karlach looked away, as if she was searching for the right thing to say.
“We can talk about this tomorrow, yeah? You need a bath and some sleep, mate.” Her tone was comforting, yet it didn't make him feel much better. He didn't need time, he just needed to know that this wasn't his fault. Gale always knew what to say- oh Gale-
Astarion simply nodded, allowing his body to lead him towards the water barrels and spare clothes, passing the group that surrounded his partner. He tried to peer over their shoulders, only getting a glimpse of Gales head resting in Shadowheart’s lap as she worked on his neck, Halsin and Wyll passing her supplies and helping to clean his lesser injuries. He frowned, turning his focus back to getting himself clean. His campmates were his friends, they can be trusted.
After a good scrub and a change of clothes, using Karlach as a living mirror to make sure that he got every drop, he finally collapsed into the pillows of his bedroll. He thanked Karlach, who turned and headed towards Shadowheart's tent, and let himself cry once more. Curling in on himself and clutching one of Gale's shirts to his chest, one that he keeps in Astarions tent for when they spend the night together, he sobbed. The fabric smelt like old books and tea leaves, a scent that is usually accompanied by the solid feeling of a warm, breathing body in his arms.
Tonight, he would sleep alone, perhaps the greatest punishment of them all.