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Fated Mates

Chapter 9: Part 9

Summary:

Astarion, unable to deal with the consequences of the mating, flees. You however learn a great deal with the help of a certain book.

Chapter Text

The echoes of your combined panting pound against the granite walls of the ancient temple. Your heart rate still sky high as you try to remember how to breathe. Once finished, Astarion had rolled over to lay next to you. Both of you without a proper word to say after that. You felt like you had a million thoughts racing through your head. So many feelings and sayings you wanted to burst out of you. But all that came was a jumbled mess in your head that fell flat on your tongue. Sex had never been like that before. Sure you have had good lovers, talented ones even. But this. This was different. It stirred something else in you. A closeness that you felt in your bones the moment his teeth sank into your flesh. That this vampire, this agonizingly cocky, arrogant, self serving vampire, was someone you now… cherished. A bloom of affection took root in your stomach and was furrowing out into every section of you. You turn your head to look over at him. His eyes closed as if in thought.

Astarions mind races just as fast, but for entirely different reasons. His whole body is screaming to run. Fight or flight shocking his system into overdrive. To leave this, whatever this is, hard and fast. This was the beginning of his doom. Of the downfall in his tether free, master free, lifestyle. For all his years of honing his skills in manipulation, Astarion finds himself being the one wrapped around your finger. His body throbs with the reminder of what he had sealed with his actions. The words mate mate mate repeating over and over again somewhere deep in his mind. The words used to describe mating bonds from passing vampires or that book compared little to the experience of it. It was something stronger than even the pull Cazador has. Something built into his DNA. Every fiber, every muscle wired now to be attuned to you. But how could he do that to you? He may be callous, Gods know he isn’t one for caring, but he found himself doing so with you. Of caring what this meant for you. To you. That without your choice, without your consent, you had unknowingly stuck yourself to someone like him. You’re a vampire hunter for Gods sake! You would be degrading yourself for being with him. It was below you, even if you couldn’t see it for yourself. Astarion prays to whatever God would even listen to him that you would not feel the bond's presence. That the pull would bounce off of you. That you both could go back to insulting one another with maybe another romp or two. But when Astarion opens his eyes he finds you already looking at him.

“That was..” you trail off. Astarion pleads your next words won’t be kind. That you’ll break his heart into two and say something horrible. That you’ll demand to never do it again. So in his wallows he could know you would move on. Find someone worthy of you. Someone not to live for eternity as a manipulator, a puppet in a grand plan that would surely cast him aside. At least broken, he could still watch out for you. Could make sure your every need met, that his mate would be safe. Safe and far away. Far away from him. Far away from Cazador.

“Amazing. Not bad, blood sucker.” Your eyes twinkle as you finish your sentence. For the jest you put in your last sentence he can see the meaning behind it. The affection behind your eyes. You attempt to wrap your hand in his. Fingers interlocking in a warm embrace. No, no. No, he had to stop this at once. He couldn’t do this to you. He puts on his mask, that face that looks as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He wringes his hand out of your grasp and hoists himself up. With his scarred back to your questioning face he steadies himself. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if to not be present for what is to come out of his mouth. The poison he knew you would one day come to appreciate. Even if his mind screamed to stop.

“It was alright but I will take the flattery, now if you’ll excuse me. I’m off to find a comfortable bed.” He throws a hand out as if to shoo away the conversation. He takes a steadying breath and lurks over to his discarded clothes. He doesn’t dare look up to see your face. He can feel the hot stare on the back of his head already. He knows if he looks back at you; if he sees the way your face morphs into confusion and sadness, it will surely break the facade. That he will run back to you and take back his actions. But he trudges on, getting dressed faster than he believes he ever had before. Within a wink he’s already stranded you there naked on the table. You look around, as if your environment would give you any clue. What had just happened? One second your flirting, the next fucking, then he’s just.. gone? Sure maybe he wasn’t a cuddle type. You could deal with that. But he felt so cold. Unfeeling, as if this was a decent enough fling and he had had his fill. Was that all it was? Putting action to words spoken this entire adventure? A passing bit of fun? Now done, he could discard you? You scramble to get your clothing back on. You hurry out of the temple hoping to catch him before he’s gone. But it is as if he rode the wind and disappeared.

-

You hoped and prayed he would be back at camp once you made your way back. Though unfortunately, all companions were accounted for minus one vampire. Karlach had been the last into camp so you went to her to see if she may have seen him out and about.

“Karlach! Hey! You hadn’t seen Astarion by chance have you?” You run over to her, panting as you bend over to catch your breath.

“Woah woah woah. Breathe soldier. I think I saw him at one of the taverns in town. What’s going on?” She asks. Her strong arms crossed over her chest as she looks you over. Since meeting you she’s had a protectiveness about her when it came to you. Only an idiot couldn’t see how Astarion and you flirted back and forth. From the look on your face, something was up. And it was not good.

“Which one?” You ask impatiently. She shakes her head and leads you over to her tent.

“First you’re going to tell me what’s going on.” She returns. You make yourself comfortable on a plush pillow as she sits cross legged in front of you. Once you’re sat you fall into your hands. Forehead resting on your open palms.

“I don’t know! I wish I could explain it!” You start. You grasp at your hair, searching your mind for what even had just happened. You tell her everything that has transpired. Her face changes from excitement to anger by the end of your tale.

“I knew it! He couldn’t be trusted! Once I get my hands on him-“ Karlach starts. You throw up your hands and shake them wildly in front of you to stop her sentence. Something in you screams to protect Astarion. You knew how Karlach could rage, he didn’t deserve that. At least, not until you spoke to him.

“Karlach no! I just- I just want to talk to him.” Your voice falters. You feel deflated, listless. If you could just talk to him you could figure this out. Right? Karlach studies you. The way you wrung your hands back and forth anxiously. How your eyes look big and lost, nearly wet with tears. Gods you must be falling for the vampire. She groans and picks herself off the floor.

“Fine, fine. Since you look like a love sick puppy i'll tell you. But one misstep and it’s his fangs next time I see him!” She warns, wagging her finger in your face. You give your best smile albeit it still looks drained. She tells you the tavern she had seen him last. You give her an air hug as a thank you and scamper out of the camp. Karlach watches as you race off towards the town center.

-
As good a pickpocket Astarion is, he didn’t quite manage to steal enough to buy a decent enough wine. But this vinegar concoction would have to do for the evening. He sighs to himself, watching as he swirls the red liquid absentmindedly in his glass. His head rests on his hand he has propped up on the bar counter. The bar top is sticky with sloshed beers, people chatting and cheersing away around him. The mood is cheerful, gleeful even; with a band of barbs playing loudly in the corner. Elves and tieflings alike dancing away the night. Bartenders move swiftly, collecting orders from the numerous parched dancers and bar regulars. Astarion had paid enough upfront for the bar maid to leave the whole bottle with a sultry wink. Normally he would have chased it down. Gotten free wine and romp out of one exchange. But her beauty, her want of him, was nothing if not pale to him. His mind is entirely wrapped in thoughts of you. His stomach ached against the feverish bond pounding away inside of him. It gnawed at him. Begging for him to find you, check on his mate, to inhale your scent and never let go. It pushed into his throat and he swallowed around the lump of misery. Just as he put the glass to his lips once more he caught a familiar scent. The wafting of that familiar lavender, the bounding pulse that was so distinctly you. His ears perked up and he whips his head to look around. You were bounding towards the tavern, he could tell. His heart sang, brimming with life at the thought of you close. He shuts down the feeling as quick as it comes as he scampers to find a way out of this. He was not ready for this conversation. He needed one night to steel himself in the misery he needed to cause. The bar maiden notices Astarions nervous glances around and walks over to him.

“Need something handsome?” She does her best to push her breasts close together as she leans over the bar. She gives an award winning smile, looking Astarion up and down. Your scent grows stronger in Astarions nostrils.

“You don’t happen to have somewhere private by chance? I’ve got an angry lover on my tail, and I have a feeling she’s going to be here quite soon.” Astarion explains to the bar maiden with a cheeky smile. She gives him another look up and down. She muses this must be a very bad pick up line and wiggles a come hither at him. Astarion follows the woman towards the back, desperate to be hidden. Just as he is out of sight, you barge into the tavern. You look the place over at lightning speed. Nothing is a miss, a quite normal tavern. Joyful dancing to the band playing for the night. People in different small crowds socializing with one another. There is only one seat open at the busy bar with a forgotten glass of wine. Something inside you whines that he must be here. You damn near feel like you can smell him. I must be going crazy, you think. You look for him once more over the crowd before falling into the empty seat. A tiefling man sits to your left nursing a large stein of ale. It’s quite obvious from the numerous empty glasses surrounding him that he had been here for some time. You decide to try your luck and ask if he had seen Astarion.

“You didn’t happen to see an elvish man with white hair here recently? Tall, slender, reddish eyes?” You describe to him. He brings a finger to his chin to ponder. He sways slightly back and forth on the stool as he scrunches his nose in thought. You just about thank him for wasting your time before his eyes widen.

“Ah yes yes! He was- he was uh. Yeah he was just here.” He replies, gesturing to your seat.

“Where did he go? Did he happen to say?” You ask, hope growing in your heart.

“He followed the bar lady- went behind. Back room.” He pieces together, belching between each word. You give him a quick thanks before you hop off the stool. Your heart in your throat, you round the bar. The other bartenders are too busy with patrons to notice you diving back towards the employee only section. The back hallway only hosts tankards of ale, barrels, and cleaning supplies. You nearly given up before you notice a wooden door in the darkened corner of the hallway.

-

Astarion follows the elf bar maiden to a back hallway. There’s only one other room beyond the supplies littered about. Low candle light flickering large shadows across the hall. She takes his hand in hers and leads him to the door. He thinks nothing of it as your scent hits him harder, announcing your arrival. Anything to scurry away would be a luxury right now. She thrusts Astarion into the closet before shutting the door behind her. The room is small, filled with shelves of food supplies, more ale and wine bottles, and other miscellaneous items. It’s quite dark, a few old candles nearing their end in random spots. A leak from the roof trickles rhythmically at the far corner. Before Astarion can take a breath of relief the woman pounces on him. Her hands twine around his neck as she pushes him into a kiss. Astarions hands flare up in shock, eyes wide as if stuck in place. She takes his moment of shock to thrust her tongue into his mouth, moaning into his lips. Her hands twirl into his feather soft hair. This was nothing like his kisses with you. Those sparked lightning in his body, brimming his undead body to life. This was just skin to skin, pale in comparison. Astarion grabs her hips, hoping to politely decline with a nudge. Though before he can make space between their bodies another person comes tumbling into the closet. Astarion curses the Gods above that he chose to drink his sorrows away with piss-drunk patrons and horny bartenders. But with a glance over the woman’s shoulders his eyes fall on yours. Your foot propelling you forward, stuck in motion. Your hand is still gripping the doorknob as gasps of exertion leave your lips. Your eyes say it all. Blown wide in shock before cementing into pure pain. Even in the dim light Astarion can make out the way hurt curls in on your face. A crack whips up the bond. He can feel his breath leave him at the nauseating feeling. The bartender turns from her kiss with Astarion to investigate who came into the room. She gives an annoyed look over her shoulder, nose curling in disgust.

“Um employees only. Can’t you read? Kinda busy right now.” She scoffs. Just barely can Astarion hear the hiccup you let out. A fat wet tear rolling down your soft cheek before you turn and walk away. Astarions body moves of its own accord. He shoves the woman away from him as he makes haste to the door. He barely catches your disappearing scent as he walks back out on the crowded bar floor.

-

Cold night air slaps harsh against your skin as you dash from the tavern. Tears roll freely down your cheeks as you attempt to catch your breath between cries. Your heart pumps in your chest as you run down alleyways and streets. It feels as if your mind is sputtering, engine dying and failing to compute. So that’s what he had meant about finding a comfortable bed? Someone else’s? Jealousy and rage thunder in your veins, turning your body to pure ice. You had been so stupid! So naive! Here you were, a strong and capable vampire hunter, being distracted for games by a spawn! Tears dry in your eyes as the fury takes hold of you. That delicate piece of you that held Astarion begins to crumble into a ball in your heart. The tether to him you had started to feel in the temple engulfed in flames. Your feet move quickly, taking you right into camp and into Astarions tent. You wanted to rage. To put your hands to use and shred everything in sight. To destroy and put fire to anything he cared about. How dare he use you! How dare he toy with you! Your head whips back and forth in attempts to find something to bring your vengeance upon. You eye the large ornate trunk Astarion keeps his personal belongings in. You kneel before it before ripping the top open. Inside lies a scattering of things. Clothing, mirrors, art pieces and a few books. You dig around a bit before your eyes land on that gaudy romance book he had been insistently reading. Any moment he seems to be on his own his nose is buried in that book. Several times you had stolen glances his way or happened to peer in his tent only to find him reading and rereading that very book. What good is a romance book to someone playing the games he does! It’s ludicrous! It nearly makes you laugh in anger at the thought of him reading such a loving novel when he himself had shattered your heart. You tear the book from the chest just as you hear hurried footsteps coming towards camp. Most everyone had gone to bed already so you assumed it’s Astarion. You exit his tent and plunge into your own. You zip the entrance tight, making a very obvious do not disturb before you scuttle back onto your sleeping pad. A few minutes later you hear Astarions feet coming towards your tent. The scent of bergamot and rosemary wafting in. The scent encompasses your senses, relaxing you. You almost let the feeling carry you, to snuggle into the familiar scent. Before that rage takes hold once more. You turn from the tent entrance and lie on your side. You float in and out of sleep as you dream of Astarion.

Astarion putters before your tent entrance, half tempted to rip it open. His mind pleads to do just that. To try him damnedest to plead his case. To show it was all a misunderstanding and should be shoved to the past. But he could see how it looked. He had taken you, left coldly and then is found kissing another woman. It looked bad. It was royally fucked. One part of his brain reminds him that he should be happy. That this is what he wanted. Distance between you so you could flourish without the weight of him holding you down. But the ache of your misery and hatred stabbed Astarion sharper than any blade. He felt like his throat couldn’t open all the way. His muscles aches, heart crying out. How on earth did any vampire get anything done with the waves of emotions the bond made one feel? He finally decides, against his heart's judgment, to go to his own tent.

-

Breakfast was tense. More than tense, cut throat. Astarion did his best to stay clear of you, avoiding you every moment he could. Seemingly having something to do when you came near. A black cloud followed you, rage nearly palpable near you. Everyone stepped on their toes around the two of you, no one bringing up the obvious. Karlach attempted to talk to you, to try to soothe you. But you wanted none of it. As much as you appreciated your friends' attempts you wanted to sit in your anger. To let your body go through the emotions it needed to feel. You had hidden the book you stole from Astarion in a secluded spot near camp. In case he noticed it missing and decided to ransack your tent. You were childishly hoping he would notice it missing and confront you. Just so he would acknowledge you. Gods you just wanted to argue. To yell and fight and curse and then make up. You wanted it so badly you could nearly picture it, a daydream rewinding in the back of your mind. If Astarion felt the same he certainly didn’t act like it. He ignored you as best as he could. Once or twice you tried to confront him yourself. Foolishly thinking to be the bigger person. Even if the bigger person punched him right in his jaw. But alas, he swerved away from you like the plague.

Your first attempt was at camp after trying to settle your mind and eat something. But the moment you went where he had just been in the forest he was already gone. You then tried again when everyone had dispersed into town. You had all decided to stay one more night in the city, to prepare for your trip to the next destination. You tracked him through the city streets. You followed unnoticed behind him, watching him turn and go behind a shop. Just as you round the corner, words ready at your tongue, he was nowhere to be seen. You tried to find him again but it’s as if he had disappeared from the city. Fed up, you let the sorrow take root once more as you tucked tail and went back to camp.

-

Astarions chest puffs with anxiety as he lays flat against the building wall. Squeezing his eyes shut in silent prayer. He had smelled your scent the moment you started to follow him into town. He had tried to ignore it at first. Hoping that you would give up once you noticed he wasn’t paying you any mind. Then he tried to shake you, turning down streets quickly with no real rhyme or reason. But still your pulse and scent felt as if it bites at his heels. Finally he decided to dive behind a shop and hide behind an alleyway wall. Thankfully you had given up the search as you made your way behind the shop as well. He sighed in relief as he slumped to the ground. His heart ached, throbbing in pain. This couldn’t keep going on. But he didn’t really know what else to do but return to his old habits. Hide.

-

Eyes wet with tears, you made your way to the secluded spot you had found near camp. Nestled in between thick trees and a flowing stream was a short jagged rock formation. The rocks sat on one another creating a craggily diamond head. A perfect spot to get away, and to hide someone’s book. You rest against the rocks as you watch the steam go by lazily. Fat tears plop onto the group beside you. You tried to wrap your mind around what has happened. What do you even do? You think it’s best to just forget it. Forget any of it happened and move on as if it never occurred. But at the thought your stomach lurches. Pain sharp as ice cinches your heart. To forget that night? To forget Astarion? Who were you kidding. The vampire had come and twirled himself into your heart strings. So tangled you don’t recognize who is who. Your relationship or even your feelings, for another never felt so strong before. As if the world’s axis tipped at the point of where Astarion stood. Your center of gravity in a reality you found completely upside down. A year ago you would have been hunting his kind down. Forcing them to out the man who had butchered your family and left you to witness it all. You too weak to even be dealt with. But now you would strangle who would do the same to Astarion. Yes he had his flaws, giant glaring flaws. But there was someone full of grief and loneliness under the facade. Of someone who had bared torment from your tormentor.

You tilt your head back and close your eyes. The rocks cool on the back of your head. You take a deep breath and sigh, tears finally leaving you. You reach behind you to grab hold of Astarions book you hid in between the rocks. The raunchy book cover greeting you. You shouldn’t have taken it. It was childish, done in anger. You should just walk back to camp, toss it in his tent, and leave well enough alone. But as you grab the book in both hands you notice the cover slip. The hardcover underneath is worn with old leather. You slide the rest of the cover off. The title reads “Mates in Five Different Species: Fate Driven Partnership”. Something sparks in your mind. A sense of deja vu. Like a long forgotten memory scratching at the precipice of your brain. You open the book and start to flip through. You find a certain page dog-eared, obviously reread from the worn feeling of the pages. It’s the beginning of a chapter titled “Vampiric Mates”. As you read the words it hits you. A sudden all powerful wave that would have surely swept you off your feet. Your skin tingles as goosebumps ride along your extremities. Your mouth is dry as your throat constricts. You can only think of one thing. Mates.