Chapter Text
Moonlight flooded into their chamber. The dim light illuminated his silver locks, curled perfectly against his ears and outlining his sharp features. Enialis wrestled with the silk sheets, squeezing her thighs together in a moment of desperation. It had been months since their last night together, heated passion under a full moon – much like tonight. While Astarion’s ascension had given him raw, unfiltered power, he still struggled with deep rooted feelings of disgust and loathing when it came to sex. He looked beautiful, he always did, of course; but there was something about his bare chest, the way it rose and fell, the way his palms laid open at his sides – the cloth that barely covered his waist, God, it was torture.
“I cannot lay here and edge myself to oblivion,” she thought to herself, kicking the blankets from her legs before slinging them over the edge of their bed. Her red gown fell to the middle of her thighs, complementing her dark purple skin. He was deep in his meditation, peaceful and unharmed, free. Despite his deep slumber, she did well to walk carefully across their room to reach the wash room. The marble edge of the tub felt cold against her burning skin – is this how Karlach felt every damn day? God, she could eviscerate a city with the way he made her feel. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him on top of her, his leg sliding between her thighs, his wandering hands, the white pain of his bites.
She ran her hands through her hair, a desperate attempt to focus on something, anything else besides how horribly she needed – no, craved him inside of her. She leaned back, gripping onto the tub to keep herself from falling back. He was still there, blissfully unaware of her and the curse he wrought her with. Her hand found its way to her inner thigh, thoughts still reeling with how he looked on top of her. “Astarion…” She breathed when her fingers found her center and Gods, she was soaked. Her knees knocked together when she grazed over her clit, a soft whimper escaping. “I have to be quiet. I can’t let him see me like this,” she thought to herself, a seemingly impossible thing for her. She leaned back once more, peaking from around the corner to check on him. “Still there,” a soft sigh of relief before allowing her eyes to close and roll back.
Her circling quickened, her other hand, once on the edge of the tub, now gripping her right breast, her nipple pinched between two fingers. “Oh, Star…” She moaned, rocking her hips against her hand – much like she did when he was pounding away at her core. Her breath quickened, caught in her chest, pulling and pinching at her breast. “A-...Astarion…” She moaned his name, a poem off her tongue. In her head, his head was between her legs, hands in his white curls, fangs punctured in her mound as he sucked and flicked and ate his fill. “I’m gonna c-...” She whispered, her finger now flicking over her clit, ecstasy filling her abdomen, the bottoms of her feet tingling in anticipation of her release. “Oh! Astarion! Astarion!” She let out, her orgasm riddling her entire body in pleasure. She shook and contorted, her thighs squeezing back together – clenching her hand between the folds of her center.
She was on fire, her skin was up in flames from her orgasm. She could cum over and over with all of these filthy thoughts of him, his body, his sweet scent, the sound of his voice when he was right on the edge. “Fuck…” She sighed, removing her hand from between her legs. The last few minutes were a whirlwind. She was engulfed in flames a moment ago, taken over by her memories of passion with him. It wasn’t long before she noticed the smell, metallic and potent. Blood. That was when she noticed her hand, painted in her sweet red, dripping down her palm and trailing along her wrist. The passion-borne flames were quickly diluted to panic and anxiety. “Gods dammit,” she cursed, spreading her knees to see the puddle of both fluid and menstruation on the stone floor. She brought herself up from the edge of the tub, her legs weak underneath her. The gown tickled the sides of her upper leg, falling back into place as if she wasn’t ready to tear it off moments before. She bent down with the rag from the rack in their washroom, wiping up the evidence of her late night escapade.
Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
It was late morning when she woke, her arms falling to an empty side of the bed. Astarion had a long day of court dealings so it must have been an early morning for him. The mattress creaked when she placed her feet on the stone floor – flashes of the night before running through her mind. It was impossible not to wonder if he knew what she did, if he smelled the blood on her this morning, the yearning. “Shouldn’t have wished to live in more interesting times…” She muttered, rising from their bed to get dressed and meet her sweet pale elf in the courtroom.
She wore a favorite of his, half wondering why she was egging him for attention and the other half willing to put on a scene just for a passing glance. The dress was a deep burgundy and made of silk, glistening in the sun when the light bounced off it. It complimented her deep skin and only highlighted the white tips in her otherwise violet hair. There were two slits on either side of the front, exposing her slender legs when she walked. There was black lace along the edges of her collar, swirling her skin with delicate designs. Her heels clicked along the floor as one of the spawns guided her to the courtroom, his hand hovering over the small of her back, a gesture she wasn’t sure Astarion would appreciate. “You don’t have to do that, Marziel. I’m quite comfortable walking to court myself.” Her voice was firm, attempting to spare him from Astarion’s jealous tendencies. “Nonsense, my lady. You can never be too careful.” His hand was still grazing the small of her back. He would surely pay for his choice if caught.
The large wooden doors opened methodically, revealing her to not just his court full of peasants, but him. “Lady Ancunín to join you, my lord,” Marziel called out, his voice echoing throughout the court. It was only a moment before her husband's face dropped, tilting his head to one side. She felt the color drain from her face, fearing it was her that had done something wrong. “Marziel, do tell the court why you have your hands on things that don’t belong to you.” His voice was cold and stern, Enialis was barely containing her lust over his possessiveness, a sly smirk trying to lift the corners of her mouth.
“My lord, I–” Marziel searched for an answer, but it was easy to see how quickly his mind ran blank. “Perhaps it’s because you think you can sate her needs better than I? Your lord?” Her voice was edging anger, becoming more irritated the longer Marziel stood silent.
“Certainly not, my lord! I was merely guiding your lady to court. It was just my way of making sure she arrived safely.” There was a poorly hidden anxiety in his voice, but his hand still stayed planted on her lower back.
“Do not concern yourself with her safety when it is yours that is in peril right now!” Astarion barked, animalistic and snarling. It happened quickly when he appeared in front of Marziel, a cloud of mist dispersing at his feet. “Do not concern yourself with what's mine. Ever.” He towered over the spawn, dark and consuming.
Marziel gasped for air as he reached for the invisible entity around his neck, a new trick gifted by Mephistopheles. It was only then that his hand dropped from her lower back. “Escort him to the dungeon,” he called once Marziel dropped to the floor, gasping and gaping for what he had left of his life. “Let this be a lesson to you all!” He barked as Marziel was escorted off, the crowd in shock with what they had just witnessed.
Enialis was in awe of his prose, his aggressive possessiveness, the way his eyes narrowed in moments of coveting, the way it all melted away when he connected with her. It was something she always admired about him, even in their early days when he could hardly stand her and she spent countless nights pining after him; seeping in their nightly rituals when his fangs were buried in her neck.
“I do not share what’s mine.” His voice was grounded now, almost as if he was only speaking to her and now a court full of civilians. Their eyes met for the first time since her initial introduction, a fiery moment of intensity between them that only they could reach out and touch. “My darling,” he cooed, a gentleness coating his words that only happened with Enialis. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Are you alright?” He asked, the hardened tone of his jaw softening and his eyes unfurrowing from his neatly knit brows. He looked delicious in his black tunic, silver threading outlining intricate details and lace that also bordered his collar. The neck dipped into a long V shape, his chest almost bare and his abdomen visible, toned and pale. Heat built between her thighs again, longing to have him tear her apart once again. “Astarion, my love, I’m more than alright now,” she smiled, her voice sweet and soft when his name came from her lips. The hand he had outreached for her quickly found its way around her waist, pulling her into his chest. God, to tangle him in her legs and feel him pound her away, a piece of herself lost to him with each thrust. Her cheeks flushed, a deep fuchsia coloring her face and ears – resisting the urge to pull his face in for a gasping, wet kiss when he pecked her lips.
“Come sit, darling,” he pulled her along, but instead of finding her place in the chair next to him, she was yanked into his lap – his lap, Gods. “I haven’t seen you in hours. I want you in my lap,” his voice was firm. He wouldn’t have her straying far, but she could tell he was hiding something. “My lord, may I continue?” the civilian asked. He was an older man, the sun had bleached his skin and wrinkled it, a farmer more than likely. Astarion darted his gaze from Enialis to the peasant before him, his features hardening. “Perhaps. I could lend you…” His voice drowned out as she admired him. Her heart ached at the thought of him never seeing himself before now, never being to see just how breathtaking he is. The edge of his jawline, cutting and sharp. Piercing red eyes, bright and cunning, the devious smile he wore, fanged and all. The world melted around her, it was quiet in his presence; and all she could manage to do was wonder how she got so lucky to love and be loved by this magnificent creature. She traced hearts on his chest with her nail, dragging her finger up his sternum to his neck, tracing the two bite marks on the side. “I wonder if he knows about last night, if he smells the heat between my thighs.” She thought, the devil on her shoulder whispering sinful ideas into her ear.
How could she not listen? It was such a good idea, she was sad she didn’t think of it sooner. One of her legs ‘fell’ from his lap and landed on the floor, her thighs spread where he had no choice but to look, smell, entice her. She leaned her head back, exposing her tender neck, the same one he had bitten into every night since they met; the same one he drained her life from when he turned her. She pretended to be relaxing, sprawled over him, pretending she wasn’t trying to appeal to his vampiric senses. Eyes from all over the courtroom were on her, her legs, exposed thighs and heaving bosom. She bit her lip, glad now that she chose against wearing lipstick. He was growing impatient with her, his eyes glancing over to her neck and occasionally, subtly, peeking between her thighs. He sighed, rubbing one of his temples in an effort to remain poised in front of the court. “I must retire for now. You’ve given me too much to consider and I have grown quite famished.” He said, her stomach dispersing into tiny butterflies when he mentioned being hungry. “Please disperse. Everyone and leave me be,” he said, a command more than a request.
The courtroom emptied, civilians and spawns alike. Doors closed behind them one by one, a cloud of murmuring leaving with them. “What is that delicious smell coming off of you, my love?” He asked, his far hand going from the arm of the throne to her thigh. Her skin sung at his touch, enveloping her in a heat similar to last night. It swallowed her, but instead of eating her from the inside out, it pulled her toward him, beckoning him to come closer – if just an inch more. “I’ll need to sink my teeth into you soon if I have to sit and endure this smell.” A sly smile appeared, eyeing her flesh as if asking her through eye contact alone. “Oh, my love, bite me anywhere you please.” She breathed, tingling anticipation filling her waist. She could explode with elation. “I’d like to start with that lovely neck of yours, darling.” Astarion replied, pulling her into his chest once more to reach her neck.
The familiar pain surged through her, her hips bucking as he drank from her lifesource. “Astarion…” She sighed in relief, squeezing her thighs together in an effort to contain herself. “You are…” he pulled his fangs from the wound, blood still stained on the tips. His breath was metallic and hot, sweet somehow. “Succulent today…” His pupils were dilated, using his tongue to lick up what could be dripping down his chin. He returned to her neck, using his fangs to tear at her punctured skin more – her blood pouring into his mouth now. She felt a cold feeling come over her, he was draining her – more than normal. “Star…” Her voice was meek, running her hands through his hair and tugging. “As-...tarion…” She was beginning to fade in his arms before he snapped back, her blood staining his mouth and dribbling down the corner of his mouth. “Ali? My love? Shit! Aerith, get a healer! NOW!” He barked, his face fading from her view before drifting into a deep sleep.