Your arrow grazes the giant hawk's wing. Fuck, it wasn't even that far away, and your aim rarely lets you down. You curse under your breath and blame the moonless dusk shrouding the forest as the animal screeches and flaps its wings so that feathers scatter in the air. It charges at you, and it is quick. For the briefest moment you debate whether you should draw your bow anew or unsheath your hunter's knife, and that moment of indecisiveness is what allows the beasts to get close enough to rip at you with its sharp-edged beak. You hiss with pain, the low sound drowned out by the swishing noise of another arrow rushing forth from somewhere diagonally behind you. With a resounding twack the bird is nailed to the trunk of a tree, and you turn in the direction of your unforeseen aide.

'Shit! Oh… Oh! It's you! Astarion, was it?' The man meets your gaze but only gives you the slightest nod in acknowledgment.

A month has passed since you roved out and the weather is warmer now. You've had a great time thus far, albeit you admit you might not have talked to as many new people as you would have liked, as the thrill of dedicating your time to hunting has been far too large. You have realized what good of a weaponsmith you truly are, an ability passed down to you by your parents, and your skill with both sword and bow have already grown tremendously. The plan on joining a party is put on the back burner for the time being, you're simply having too much fun.

You do feel a little lonely, though.

You are currently finding yourself in the Western Heartlands, somewhere close to Emerald Grove. You've yet to visit the Druids' home and you're curious to do so, but it so happens that you've ended up having some money to earn. As you come upon a semi-large camp, about a dozen busy adventurers currently residing there, you soon come to understand that your hunting skills are highly appreciated. Since you do like to be of use you don't mind sticking around the camp for a bit, and when the opportunity is given, you fraternize with its quirky habitants.

One party, whose members seem to be the ones who set up the majority of the camp, is a tremendously curious one. Its leader, a rather generic-looking human man, briefly presents himself and his companions to you as they buy their supper from you, as neither of the others seem very keen on making your acquaintance on their own accord. There's a stern-looking half-elf, a Githyanki looking at you like a Githyanki usually does, which is like as if you were a worm or maybe a dung beetle, and a… Vampire high-elf? A vampire? He doesn't really look at you at all, and seems highly disinterested in even being there.

When you inquire about what type of quest they are on, it gets kind of weird. It doesn't seem like the human doesn't want to tell you, but it also seems to be a delicate and utterly complicated subject. Brain parasites? The Absolute?

You're not touching that with a ten-foot pole.

Anyhow, you remember the name of the silver-haired handsome vampire man, and as befuddled as you are about even meeting one of his kind, you are thankful for his sudden intervention. It saved you a whole lot of trouble. You see that he is about as lightly dressed as you are, frilled white shirt tucked into a pair of close-fitting grayish-blue pants. He does indeed have a very good body.

'Thank you!' You give him a giddy thumbs up, and your confusion heightens when you notice that his gaze is suddenly fixated on your body in return, albeit a very specific part of it.

You see that you are bleeding from your wrist.

Damn it, you think to yourself, you should at least have worn gloves. You didn't count on any stupid mishaps happening tonight. On the other hand, your little misfortune could be someone else's great fortune, in this very particular case.

'Do you want it?' You immediately ask, stretching out your wrist towards him. The vampire's eyes widen, and you realize that your naturally generous reaction had a monumentally more powerful effect on him than you innocently intended.

'…What? Would you… Let me have it?' He presses out, struggling to remain in the perfectly composed state you assume is customary to him. You've actually never heard him talk that much until now, but his voice sounds much like you had assumed; sophisticated, well-articulated and amusingly sassy albeit currently suppressed by restraint. You can't tell if it's more unnerving or exciting, but either way you feel like you can't revoke your offer now when it's out there. 'Well, uh, why waste it? You're a vampire, right?' 'So you picked up on that', he mumbles. You assume he is joking; there are bite marks on his pale neck, his irises are blood-red and though this is the first time you speak with him, you think yourself to have been able to spot fangs in his mouth. 'You need human blood, and I'm bleeding', you continue and expose your wrist further, almost making him wince with restraint. You don't know how you failed to consider that even if he would have accepted your offer in the most casual manner imaginable, it would still mean that his lips would come to be upon your skin. Now, when you see him act like he's thirsting for blood, a sudden, dull arousal hits you like a sledgehammer. Your demeanor changes drastically and colour draws to your cheeks in the dusky air. You haven't met anyone suitable to spend the night with since Waterdeep, in fact you haven't met that many people at all since you've just been rummaging about in the woods like a happy little vixen. But yes… You have felt lonely, at times.It's embarrassingly obvious now when you have a very attractive man in front of you. 'It should be okay as long as you don't bite me, right?' You say. 'A spawn can't turn anyone', he mutters in reply. Suddenly, you feel sorry for him. You remember what your grandmother told you about vampires when you were a mere child, after you begged and begged for her to do so as your parents preferred for you to concern yourself with more pragmatic tasks. It was she who taught you that a vampire's victim must be allowed to drink their master's own blood in order for them to fully turn, else they are stuck in the position of a spawn. A cruel dynamic, but she also taught you that not all spawns are ill-spirited, though most end up as miserable beings nothing more than pets to their master. At least Astarion seems like he is now a free man, brain worm aside. He is staring at you, gaze fixated with burning intensity on the crimson fluid trickling down towards your elbow. Your heart is beginning to pound in your chest, you try to fight the ideas infesting your mind. You fail miserably. 'And you wouldn't… Hurt me, would you?' You ask further. 'I've got no good reason to.' 'Well then', you say with a coy smile, 'take it, as long as you don't bite me.'

He takes your hand, gently to not smear the blood with his fingers or let the trickle escape underneath your rolled-up sleeve. You can tell he's being more mindful of the liquid itself than he is of you, but you never expected him to act differently. Bringing your arm to his mouth he stops the droplet in its tracks with his tongue, which feels cool in comparison to those you tasted lastly, those of Dharion and Veldani. Nevertheless, its eagerness sends shivers down your spine, and the fine hairs of your neck stand on end when he smoothly runs his tongue along the stream towards the injury itself, where he lingers to with closed eyes savor every single little drop of your blood. You stare at the act as if transfixed, and when he finally draws back, as your wound only had a scarce amount of blood to offer, gasps escape from his lips as well as yours.

'By the Gods', he presses out, 'that was… Exquisite. He licks his lips, careful to let nothing go to waste. 'You have my thanks.' 'It's, uh… My pleasure', you say, head spinning. The sensation of his tongue against your skin still engrosses you, and although you know you have lost a completely insignificant amount of blood, you feel faint. However, if you haven't already lost all sense, he seems flustered too. 'What were you doing out here at this time, anyway?' You ask before the mood takes a turn for awkward. 'I needed to hunt, of course' he says', still staring at your hand as if he urges for more blood to escape it. 'There's no one who will donate at this camp… And I can't exactly go and ask around, now can I?' 'No, uh, of course not', you stammer, 'Then I'm… Glad to be of help?' Astarion clenches his jaw, seemingly frustrated. 'Have you ever heard of the saying whet one's appetite?' You say nothing, but he sees that you understand. 'I'm afraid your generosity has had me… Wanting more.' He bites down every so lightly on his lower lip, and you shudder. 'Is there anything I could do for you in return in order to have… Another taste?'

You're already decided upon giving him more of your blood, but you are yet to decide the way of administration. He seems like he'd be thankful to get it in a dirty bottle, so if he would want to have it straight from the source, he would have to give you something in return. What are you waiting for? Just say something, you know yourself to not be clever enough to come up with something perfectly suave and alluding if you just-

'I kind of want to fuck you', you say.

He stares at you for a moment, before a slight, sly smirk curls his gorgeous lips. 'Oh. You don't mince words, do you lady?' 'I am sure you are told that all the time', you reply as coolly as you possibly can. Luckily, you can tell the flattery rubs him in just the right way. 'You'll get your blood regardless', you say, as you try to read his expression, "I don't take you for someone who can be bought, and that kind of indecent deal is not for me. But since you asked, that's my answer. And it's not kind of, by the way, I'd very much like to-' 'To fuck me, hm?' He interrupts you. You blush deeply, as per usual, but you stand your ground. 'Y-yes.' 'Do you find me so charming?' 'Sir, have you seen yourse-' you press your lips together, and the colour draw from your face as quickly as it had appeared. He crosses his arms unhurriedly and his eyes narrow, but by the grace of the Gods he lets your blunder slip. 'You were saying?' He asks. 'Y-you're a very attractive man', you squeak. 'Thank you.' You gnaw on your bottom lip. 'I must admit, I am pent up in more ways than one', he adds, and you can breathe again. 'This quest I'm on, with these people- Ugh, I do yearn for a… Release.'

'I can tell', you say sweetly. In fact, vampire or not, you can tell he's being honest. You lift your tunic, pull it over your head to in another swift movement unhinge your brassiere and let it fall to the ground. You stand before him, top nude. 'Am I good enough for you?' You ask in a flirtatious demeanor, feeling a burst of confidence surge through you. If you were pretty enough for that handsome upper-class tiefling couple, you can be pretty enough for anyone. 'Plenty', he answers, and lets you relieve him of his shirt as well.

The sky is opening up, moonlight flooding in from above. His pearly skin shimmers in its light.

'Would I come to regret it if I let you bite me?' When you lean in to murmur in his ear, your neck is exposed to him, mere inches from his lips. You can feel his breathing turn ragged, and his long fingers curl around the flesh of your upper arms. 'It would be foolish of me to lose your trust', he says lowly, and you lift your arms to let your fingers sneak into his silky locks. 'I'll be as gentle as I can.'

'Would it hurt less if I came first?' You ask.

'Yes', he replies.

'It's not beneath you to go down on a woman, is it?' The thought of having his tongue on you again has edged itself into your mind, and you cannot shake it.

'Not at all.'

You turn your face and close what little gap is left between you. The kiss is soft, gentle, nothing more than lips lightly pressing upon lips, but it has the vampire's grip on you tighten ever so slightly. Your knees feel weak.

'Well then', you whisper. 'Let's make ourselves comfortable.'

'Astarion… Fffuck, Astarion!' You lay on your back in the lush grass, crossed arms covering your face as you plead desperately into the cool air.

You understand that to him, you're no one. He has lived for so long, seen so much, felt more pain and pleasure than you will in a lifetime. Even though you know you won't, chances are high he will forget about this night, that it is not more than a single drop in a vast sea of memories. Yet, you can feel that he is not doing this solely because there is something else that he wants from you. He's showing his gratitude, and he is enjoying doing it. He lies between your legs, just as stark naked as you are, just beginning to taste you with slow, profound strokes. You glance down, and see his piercing red eyes watching you as a lion watches its prey. When your gazes meet, he stops to flash you an ever so subtle sly smile, before burying his mouth between your warm loins anew. Though you know how he longs to bite into you, to still a hunger that has absolutely nothing to do with you as a person, he doesn't rush. No, he takes his sweet time, firmly grasping your trembling thighs to hold you still, and makes sure he is in perfect control of the buildup. You can feel every stroke travel through your body, sending jolts through your toes, your fingertips, the hardened tips of your breasts…

The orgasm is nudging you, and within minutes it is begging to overtake you. When you come, a climax which both soothes and heightens your anticipation for what is soon to happen and feels like it will tear you apart from pure delight, he abruptly stops and moves to get on top of you. He wants to have you while its effect still shakes you.

'I'm going to do it now', he says. You nod, fingernails already digging into his back, but you still can't ready yourself for what's coming. He penetrates you, his rigid cock filling your pussy entirely in a single movement, and with a lustful growl he finally sinks his fangs into your neck. You scream, and he holds you tightly pressed to his own body as hot blood begins to seep out from your punctured skin. You hear his muffled moans as he swallows it, his lean muscles tensing from lost vigor beginning to return to him. You're sure part of him wants to bite down with full force and suck you dry, but he's intending to keep his promise not to harm you. His thrusts are hard and slow, having you wrap your legs around his waist and turn your head upwards, backwards to expose your neck as shamelessly as you possibly can to him.

In a moment of weakness you imagine that he is turning you, making him your master. It's a horrible fantasy of you to have, fetishizing his terrible fate, but you can't help it. At least you can repay him for your awful thoughts. 'Have your fill', you mewl to him, 'please have your fill of me and regain your strength.' A throaty groan fills your ear, and the pace of which he snaps his hips into you increases. When he comes, you fear for a second that he might actually lose the battle and let his fangs rip into your artery, but with a sharp gasp he manages to pull away from you. He buries his face into your hair, none of you uttering a word until your shaky breaths become still.

'Thank you… Thank you…' he pants, and you lift a trembling hand to stroke his locks now damp with sweat. 'I got… Slightly more carried away than intended, you should wait a bit before you try to move. You might feel a bit light-headed.' 'Uhh', is what you manage to intelligently press out. This time, you can feel that he has filled you, and it delights you. You tug at him, insinuating that you wish for him to roll into his back, and with surprising lenience you follow to end up on top of him. The semen he shot into you is trickling out and smears his lower belly. 'Sorry, I have bad manners', you grin. 'I am in no position to complain', he replies.

You lean down to kiss him, and he lets you. You are indeed feeling rather wobbly, but you can tell the bleeding has stopped and that he didn't imbibe a dangerous amount of your fluids. Soon, you're joyfully surprised by the sensation of his freshly erected manhood pressing against your behind. 'One more time. Please', you purr. He snickers.

You walk side by side with the vampire, the hawk bound by its feet and hung over your shoulder. Though you still sway a bit as you walk, you couldn't be more content. A warm, fuzzy glow is still idling between your legs, and your partner seems to be in way better spirits than you've ever seen him, at least.

'Are your tastes always this… Risqué?' As he suddenly presents his question as you approach the camp, you can't help but burst into a short laugh. 'Oh, you wouldn't believe how boringly deeply into a committed relationship I have been', you say. 'Actually, I would', he hums, and you have no idea if he's applauding you for letting loose or teasing you for overcompensating. It doesn't really matter. 'Oh, and…' before someone is able to spot the two of you, he gently halts you and reaches out a hand to stroke his thumb at the two red dots on your neck. 'They'll heal, but… Maybe wear a scarf for a little while, hmm?' You reach for your neck as well, having been completely mindless about the very noticeable marks now adorning it. 'Oh… Right. Right. I will.' 'Good girl.' He says.

When you crawl into your sleeping bag, you see the leader of Astarion's group approach you. 'I just wanted to bid you farewell', he says. 'We are leaving at the break of dawn. Also, out of curiosity, did you run into my friend in the woods just now?' You nod awkwardly. 'What was he doing?' He asks further. 'Same as me', you say. 'Hunting.' 'You know…' he leans closer towards you, glancing in the direction to where Astarion sits by himself with his back turned, seemingly meditating. 'I think that guy might be a vampire', he whispers. 'Oh, really.' You say flatly.

When you are finally left alone, you drift off in an instant. When you awake, the curious party has indeed left.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes before instantly making sure that the thin scarf you put on before falling asleep hasn't slipped. Still taken by drowsiness, your gaze falls upon a spot of colour on the ground.

A single red rose lies beside you.