Astarion couldn't say he was surprised when his siblings found their room at the Elfsong. He recalled all too well the soul wrenching need to follow Cazador's orders. The added incentives of the bastard's long list of tortures to subject them to if they failed were certainly inspirational too. So when the talk of turning against their master was interrupted by the compulsion to attack, he didn't even feel a twinge of betrayal. More than ever, he pitied the other spawn. Not that he let that show as he drew his daggers and, to all appearances, cheerfully leapt into battle against them.

The spawn weren't pushovers, but they lacked the synchronization that Astarion and his new companions had found in their time together. Their attacks were disjointed, almost sloppy, and Astarion found himself, yet again, enjoying the fight. Slicing a foe across the back while their focus was on the spells firing from Gale's hands, and sinking a crossbow bolt as the enemy tried to avoid Tav's spinning staff and wicked kicks. It all still gave him a thrill, though his attention had lately begun to be split between whichever foe he focused on and if his friends were still standing.

Quick exclamations of pain were nothing new when they were in a brawl, but one in particular always caught Astarion's ears. Tav, who he cared more for than he was even able yet to express, was always his top priority as far as the group's safety was concerned. She was fast, maybe even faster than he was, and in the midst of battle seemed to be mostly unstoppable and untouchable. But occasionally something snuck past her defenses. Leon - the most often favored spawn, he couldn't help thinking - had just disappeared in a fine mist, escaping a killing blow from Astarion's dagger. That was when Tav cried out, and it seemed barely a second later that the smell of her blood reached him. His head turned, and a red haze of fury filled his eyes when he saw Aurelia's face against Tav's neck, drinking Tav's blood.

The rest of the enemies, the room itself, faded into the background as his attention narrowed on the scene. A snarl ripped up from the bottom of Astarion's chest and twisted his face into something bestial as he sprinted at his little sister. In his head there was only a dull roar, the need to defend, to protect.

His daggers slammed into Aurelia's shoulders before he'd stopped moving, and he used the momentum to spin her away from Tav, interposing his own body between them as the blades came free. Aurelia staggered, gasping with pain, as Astarion settled into a defensive crouch, his fangs bared. Part of him yearned to lunge at her, to rip her limb from limb, but some instinct he couldn't shake bade him to stay where he was, to protect. He swore he could feel Tav's heart beating behind him, and he had to keep it safe. Another growl worked its way up his throat, and he gave voice to his feelings. "Mine," he said, unable to tear his eyes from Aurelia's chin, where Tav's blood was still dripping. Every muscle in his body was tense, ready to spring if she took a step closer.

Then, Aurelia let out a shriek as she was struck by a blast of radiant light. In that flash, her body vanished, and the familiar mist took flight, a vampire's last ditch attempt to escape death. Astarion's eyes flitted about the room, and he could see that all of his siblings had disappeared. His companions all stood nearby, catching their breath. Slowly, the rage that had taken over his being drained away. His body relaxed bit by bit, and he was able to sheath his daggers and take a long, shaking breath, before turning to face Tav. Her bright blue eyes met his, unblinking, as he came back to himself.

"Astarion, are you all right?" she asked, her voice soft and steady. Of course, of course, her first words would be to check on him. She was always more worried about him, about any of the others, ahead of herself. Her gaze left his just for a moment, assessing their cluster of friends, making sure none of them were injured, before returning to him.

"I'm fine, darling," he said, clearing his throat. "Not a scratch on me, unlike you." He tried to sound like his usual, jovial self, but the anger started to rise again when he looked at the bite mark on her neck. He could hear their compatriots moving away, giving the two of them a bit of space. He'd appreciate that later, once his head was on straight and he could think clearly again. Tav unconsciously raised a hand to her throat and winced a little, which sent another flash of heat through Astarion. How dare anyone else think they have a right to taste her blood," he thought, his lips curling back to show his fangs again.

"Astarion," Tav said, bringing his focus back to the present moment. "Come sit with me for a moment, please?"

"Of course, my dear," he replied, falling into step beside her as she made her way towards her corner of the large room the party shared. She gathered up some supplies from her pack before sitting on the bed and gesturing for him to seat himself. He did so, watching as she slung her hair away from the neck wound and began treating it with some salve. "May I?" he asked, holding out a hand. She nodded and he took over, gently cleaning and bandaging her neck, taking long and slow breaths to try and keep himself from being overcome by that rage again.

"I've never seen you like that before," Tav observed. She didn't sound worried or frightened, merely curious, like she often was when trying to learn more about him.

Astarion huffed a little, finishing up with the bandage and sitting back against the wall. "I'm not sure what came over me, to be honest," he replied. "It was as if something completely overran my mind. Not the tadpole, of course. More like, an instinct of some sort."

"You were protecting me."

"Well it's only fair, as often as you've protected me," he quipped, habitually making light of anything that might become too heavy a topic. "You can't always be the mightiest hero around after all, darling."

Tav reached out a hand to him, an invitation for him to take it. She would never initiate a touch with him, but would often extend these offerings to him, and always let him decide if he wanted the contact or not. He couldn't yet form the words to express what that meant to him, and in this moment he felt the need for that touch. So he took her hand in both of his, savoring the feeling of her skin against his. He gently pulled her closer to him, and she smiled as he wrapped his arms around her, settling her against his chest. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her calming him further, as it always did. He felt as if he could stay here, holding Tav against him, forever, and be content.

"You said I was yours," she mumbled, snuggling even closer to him.

"Yes, I suppose I did," Astarion said. He gave her a swift kiss on the top of her head and thought he could feel her smiling against him. "I hope you don't mind too much, my love. As I said, I'm not exactly sure what came over me, but I should hate to be a bother if it upset you."

"It didn't upset me," Tav replied, pulling out of his arms just far enough to look into his eyes. "Does it sound very strange if I say it made me happy?"

"Mmm, perhaps a little strange," Astarion teased, cupping her face in his hand and grinning at her. "But then, this group is full of weirdos, after all." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Tav sighed as she returned his kiss, her body relaxing into him and making him almost feel as if his dead heart could beat again.

"I really am, you know," Tav whispered as they broke apart, looking up at him with a little smile. Astarion raised his eyebrows, and she clarified. "Yours."

He smiled back at her, then pulled her in for another kiss. "I'm glad to hear it, my darling," he said against her lips. "Very glad to hear it."