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The party moved slowly through the now abandoned halls of the Last Light Inn. Tired bodies gathered supplies, silence stretched over them like a heavy fog.
It all happened so suddenly. One minute they were talking to Isobel, the next a winged man named Marcus descended from the skies – and brought chaos upon the Harper safe haven.
Tav slumped against the wall of one of the bedrooms, gripping the wound on her abdomen. She was normally quick on her feet, able to dodge attacks with ease, but there were so so many of them. First goblins, then humans… humans that succumbed to the Shadow curse. The group of tadpole-infested adventurers were lucky, each of them having been individually blessed by Isobel moments before disaster fell. The rest of the Harpers were not so fortunate. Once Isobel was captured, the barrier protecting them from the Shadow Curse disappeared, and the people within the walls of the Last Light Inn were no longer people — they were soulless corpses with cold blue eyes.
Halsin tended to her wounds after the fight and instructed her to rest, even after she insisted on helping the party set up camp for the night. The former archdruid was firm in his orders, leaving Tav alone with her racing thoughts.
Just as she closed her eyes, she heard the door to the bedroom open. In the doorway stood Astarion. His white tousled hair— and his clothes— were streaked with blood.
Wordlessly, he sat down next to her.
“How are you holding up?” Tav asked.
“I’ve been better.” Astarion mumbled.
They sat there in silence, their shallow breaths the only noise that filled the small space.
She looked at him for a long moment. He didn’t fare well in the battle either. Despite his position away from the frontlines, a group of possessed archers ganged up on him. By the time it was all said and done, he had several arrows sticking out of him. His wounds were dressed and bandaged, but his eyes had a deep-seated hollowness to them.
A hollowness she recognized from that first night, the night she found out he was more than just a helpless victim of the nautiloid.
That there was more to his pale skin than genetics.
“You can feed on me tonight, if you’d like.” The words came tumbling out of her before she had time to think.
She knew it wasn’t smart, hells she already lost a lot of blood today. But so did he. It had already been quite some time since Tav last let Asterion drink her blood, and there was very little wildlife to feast on in the Shadow-Cursed lands.
She knew it wasn’t smart, but her heart ached for her blood-sucking companion in a way she didn’t have words for. An ache which, accompanied by the threat of turning into a midlayer, she didn’t have time to process.
Astarion’s eyes lit up, a devious smirk spread across his face.
“I was just wondering when you’d invite me back for a bite.”
Tav sighed, able to see past his teasing demeanor, but too tired to say anything about it. Instead, she closed her eyes as Astarion leaned over her.
Tav felt his breath on her skin, felt those familiar fangs hover over her. She braced herself. Physically she tensed, waiting for the moment of impact, the cold sting. And mentally — she could already see Halsin in her mind’s eye, his jaw tightened. She remembered when he first found out about Astarion and Tav’s “arrangement". He urged her to reconsider, hardly holding back his disdain for their blood-sucking companion. Tav reassured him she was fine, that it was harmless. But now—
Just as Astarion was about to latch on, a loud sound came from the doorway. Both of them turned to see none other than the former archdruid Halsin. His fists were clenched at his side, highlighting his unnecessarily large biceps.
Exactly as Tav had envisioned, his jaw was tight. And his eyes— they had a wild look to them, like something akin to a forest fire.
“Stop this.” He commanded, his already deep voice bellowing.
“Halsin, it’s okay—” Tav tried to interject.
“No. It’s not.” Halsin’s words were clipped as he walked further into the bedroom. He towered over them, his already tall form more pronounced to the pair sitting on the floor. “I cannot stand by and let him take your blood when you have lost so much already.”
His next sentence threw them both for a loop.
“You may drink from me tonight.”
After a second of stunned silence Astarion responded, venom in his voice. “What makes you think I want to drink from a tree-hugging—“
“You do not understand me, Astarion.” Halsin interrupted him, enunciating the vampire’s name. His tone had a sharp edge to it. “You either drink from me, or you will go hungry tonight."
"I will not offer again.” He added.
Astarion pursed his lips, irritation set in the wrinkle of his brow. Tav could tell the pale elf wanted to refuse, wanted to offer up more snide commentary, but the dark circles under his eyes told a different story.
He was hungry. Desperately, achingly so.
“All right, fine.” Astarion yielded.
Halsin sat on the floor in front of the two, his legs crossed. He moved his hair to one side, exposing his neck. He then tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes, uneasy anticipation etched across his face.
Astarion hesitated for a second, then instinct kicked in. He lurched forward, situating himself on his knees in front of the Druid’s large form. Then he grabbed Halsin’s shoulders and leaned in.
Tav moved to sit on the other side of Halsin. She wrapped her arm around his, attempting to soothe the druid. Hoping her touch could convey what her words — or lack of words— couldn’t.
Then she heard it, the sound of Astarion’s fangs piercing Halsin’s skin, a sick squelch echoed in the small room. The larger of the two men grunted, squeezing Tav’s hand. Tav squeezed his hand back, simultaneously rubbing her free hand up and down his upper arm, his skin was warm beneath her wandering fingers.
The next noise that escaped the wood elf was not one of annoyance or agony. It was a sound Tav heard before, a sound she’d recognized well.
It was the sound of arousal.
Astarion explained to her once that when a vampire bit someone, their fangs secreted a special venom designed to arouse their victims— so they wouldn’t resist when they were being sucked dry. He said it with a smirk, the flash of his fangs made her blood run cold. She remembered the first night she let him drink her blood, how she had to persuade him to stop. How he yielded… begrudgingly.
A part of her assumed Halsin would be different. She assumed he had a strong constitution, assumed this sort of thing wouldn’t have had an effect on him.
But she was wrong. Halsin may have been twice the size of Astarion, but tonight, he was Astarion’s prey.
Halsin began running his hand up and down Tav’s leg, his touch tantalizing close to the center of her thighs. She gasped. The venom clearly seemed to have an effect on Halsin, but not one she anticipated. After all, the venom was designed to make the victims placid, not… active.
After a brief moment of shock, Tav — slightly lightheaded from blood loss herself — leaned into the touch, her head lolled back. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t fantasized about the former archdruid. And while she convinced herself it was one-sided, she noticed the way he held her stare, the way his eyes would sometimes linger. The intensity behind his seemingly friendly banter. And now there he was — touching her… while getting his blood sucked from someone who she also had… sexual relations with.
She didn’t try to make sense of it, instead she turned her head and planted kisses on Halsin’s biceps, her lips outlining the dips and divots of the druid’s muscles. She trailed her kisses up to Halsin’s shoulder, his skin tasted like sweat and cedar.
Halsin let out another moan. He took his arm and wrapped it around Tav’s back, pulling her closer to him while keeping his torso still.
It was then she realized Astarion was no longer leaning over Halsin. The smaller of the two men was straddling the druid, his legs wrapped around Halsin’s waist. His eyes were shut, all his concentration on the red liquid pouring from the other elf’s neck.
Halsin continued to pull her close, eventually bringing her lips to his. The kiss was sloppy, Tav partially leaning on Astarion’s side, Halsin’s lap nearly big enough to fit both of them. The wound in her abdomen hummed as she adjusted herself, but the desire in her chest roared stronger. The taste of cedar lingered on her tongue, and the metallic scent of blood clung to both men.
She chased Halsin’s lips, swallowing his soft whimpers. He wrapped his arm around her even tighter, somehow supporting her body weight while his life force was being consumed by a creature of the night.
It was then she noticed his once warm lips had a slight chill to them, his once warm body now cool to the touch.
He was losing blood— fast. She needed to stop Astarion, she needed to—
“All right.” Halsin spoke, breaking the trance all three of them were in. His voice was much lighter than it was when he originally entered the room, but it still held the echoes of authority.”That’s enough.”
Shockingly that was all Astarion needed to remove his teeth from Halsin’s neck. His chin was covered with blood and his eyes were somewhere far away. Slowly, he dismounted from Halsin’s lap. He already looked better, his skin returning to a more human-adjacent shade.
“That was…” The pale elf started.
“How does my blood taste?”
“Good…” Astarion responded slowly. “Earthy, but… good.”
“I’m glad I was able to satiate you.” Halsin smiled. “I must admit, that was more enjoyable than I expected, I can see why you let him drink from you.” The wood elf rubbed Tav’s leg, causing heat to rise to her face. “Perhaps we can do this again when you both aren’t injured.”
Astarion and Tav looked at each other. A wordless exchange.
Halsin left to finish setting up camp. When he returned, he laid his bedroll in between Tav and Astarion. Neither of them complained. Instead, they both curled up on either side of the Druid, his now-returning body heat much welcomed in the hollowed halls of the Last Light Inn.