It had been a little over ten years since Luna and her companions sealed the fate of Baldur's Gate, and perhaps all of Faerûn. Ten years since they destroyed the Elder Brain and eradicated the Chosen of the Dead Three, freeing those caught within their tangled web of schemes. Times were different now. Safer. More peaceful. Hells, it was almost unbelievable to consider how much had changed since then.. herself included.
She was a true vampire now. Free from her dark, murderous urges, and blessed with many of Mephistopheles' gifts that her lover had promised in the wake of his ascension. Like him, she could walk freely in the sun. Wade through rivers. Enjoy the most decadent of mortal pleasures, and summon powers unlike any she'd ever known before. Without a doubt, she was one of the most powerful creatures to walk this material plane, second only to the man who sought to bestow such gifts upon her. Claimed her as his Dark Consort forevermore. Astarion Ancunin; a mighty being of tremendous power and renown across the land. The one true Vampire Ascendant.
From their Aeterna Palace, they were the beating heart of Baldur's Gate, no longer nomad adventurers roaming the wilderness on their gallant quest. They had a say in everything, a finger in every pie. They served as the new Emperor, though they didn't care to hide their nature as he had. Didn't need to. The people knew the truth of what they were, of the overwhelming power her lover wielded. And their fear of this knowledge was surpassed only by their devotion to him, for he granted them what no one else could; unyielding protection, stability, security.. for a small stipend, of course. Though, never more than an individual was readily able to provide. Some preferred to pay in coin, others pledged their goods and services to the palace. Most, meanwhile, elected to offer themselves. Willing mortal donors that revelled in the pleasure of their sanguineous bite.
Naturally, no one was forced or coerced in any way. It was merely a service offered, should someone be of a mind to seek it out. Nevertheless, after the devastating events of the Absolutist cult, near on every citizen within the city walls, and even those beyond its bounds, came to partake in the deal. After all, Astarion boasted of a level of safety that no other could grant, for no other wielded a power such as he.
That's how the new status quo came to be. A new system that benefitted all. It's true that there were still certain flaws to be ironed out but, for the most part, it was working. The people were secure. Safe under House Ancunin's banner. They were happy.
..if only the same could be said for Luna. Blessed with immortality, wealth, undying beauty and power, and the promise of forever by Astarion's side in their beautiful palace, she should feel contented with her lot in life. Blissful. But as she tore her glittering, ruby eyes away from the crimson liquid swirling within her chalice and looked out across the grand ballroom, that wasn't at all how she felt. Despite the crowd of frivolous party goers, both mortal and immortal alike, all amassed on the dancefloor; the talented bards and minstrels that served as their entertainment for the eve; the profound presence of the handsome, vampire Prince sat by her side.. she'd never felt more alone. Unhappy.
Astarion had been acting strange recently. Cold. Distant. Buried himself so deeply in his official duties that he scarcely had time for anything else.. for her. Whilst it was fair to say that the Rite of Ascension had undoubtedly changed him to a degree, this felt.. different.
Prior to his recent mood shift, he'd eagerly spent the past decade making good on the promise he'd made her back then. Submitted her to such carnal pleasures that she'd never felt more alive, even in this state of undeath. Ravished her over and over, in ways mortals could hardly dream of. And now.. nothing. Hells, she could strip herself bare before him and barely get so much as a second glance in answer. Perhaps the honeymoon phase was well and truly over. Yet, somehow.. it felt like more than that.
Does he even want this anymore.. want me?
Turning her gaze towards him, she tentatively reached out and set her hand atop his own, noting the way he subtly flinched in response to her touch. Caught the way he startled a little, as if she'd woken him from a dream he didn't care to remember.
"You're awfully tense, amor," she said softly, so quiet that only he would hear. His gleaming, ruby eyes widened for an imperceptible moment. So fast that she wouldn't have caught it, if not for her vastly heightened senses. But in true Astarion fashion, he merely shook it off and slipped into his all too familiar charming facade, flashing that debonair smile that could bring even the strongest man to their knees. "Darling, I'm positively brimming with power," he chuckled. "I'm always tense."
"..right," she sighed, lowering her gaze.
"And what about you, hmm? It appears you're due another refill."
Gently, he pried his hand from beneath her own, raising it in the air to beckon over a nearby steward with a crook of his pale finger.
"Oh," she replied, downtrodden. She peered down into her chalice, only realising then that his point rang true. "Yes, I suppose you're right."
"What else is new?" he teased. Forcing out a weak, half-hearted laugh, Luna pulled her hand back to rest within her lap and watched as the handsome steward headed up the steps towards them. Watched as he eagerly flocked to his master's side, his crimson eyes filled with every ounce of the devotion he felt. "Yes, my Lord?"
"Nerellion, my boy," he greeted, grinning broadly. "Come here a moment." Curling his perfectly manicured finger once again, he urged the handsome half-elf to lean closer, to which he happily complied, listening intently as his master whispered in his ear. She tried to pay no mind to it. Tried not to read into their sudden closeness, or Nerellion's unmistakable beauty. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pull something out of his pocket and discreetly hand it to his master. Caught the way her lover winked at him in reply as he slipped it into his pocket. Gods, she tried. But given how she was feeling right now, they sure as all the hells weren't making it easy.
When Nerellion finally straightened himself to standing once again, Luna quickly averted her gaze, making a point to look around just about anywhere else.
"While you're here, it seems my beloved Consort is in need of another drink," Astarion said, gesturing in her direction. "Be a dear and fetch a bottle of the Folcesca Vintage, would you?"
"Of course, my Lord," Nerellion nodded, smiling warmly. "Right away."
Well.. if nothing else, at least he was attentive enough, still, to remember her favourite Port. She took some solace in that. Though, as she watched Nerellion happily strut off and weave through the crowd to head for the kitchens, she realised then just how much her increasingly dour mood had taken its toll.
I just.. I can't be here right now.
"Actually," she said, pushing up to her feet. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'll retire for the eve."
"..what?" her lover laughed, his head whipping round to face her. "You're leaving already?"
Looking down, she straightened out the non-existent creases in her immaculate, silver gown, as though she were smoothing out the rapidly growing cracks in her composure. "I'm not feeling very well."
"Darling, you're a vampire," he snickered. "We don't get sick."
"Ah, yes. My mistake," she shrugged, straightening her poise. "In that case, I'm feeling rather tired."
"But-"
She glanced back at him over her shoulder, refusing to allow herself to get lost in his piercing, ruby eyes. "Don't worry," she assured him. "A few hours rest and I'll be right as rain."
With eyes narrowed, he studied her a moment, scanning her features as though he were intent on reading her thoughts. "..very well," he huffed finally, waving a dismissive hand. "I'll allow it."
"Funny.. I don't recall asking for your permission."
Turning to face him, she dipped low into a perfect curtsey so as to keep up appearances in front of the ever watchful eyes surrounding them, bowing her head in a marked sign of respect. "Sweet dreams, Your Majesty."
"I know you're being facetious and everything but, I do rather like that," he snickered. Propping an elbow on his knee, he leaned a little closer, holding her gleaming gaze. "Seriously," he said quietly. "What in the hells is going on with you tonight?"
Was he being serious? After how he'd been acting lately? Gods, she was so damn pissed. "I could ask you the same thing," she said flatly. "Good night, Astarion."
With that, she turned away before he could reply, hoisting up the skirts of her gown as she set off down the steps. Making her way through the sea of people standing between her and freedom, she absently returned their smiles and greetings as she passed, her eyes scanning the packed ballroom to find the person she was looking for. Luckily, it didn't take long. He had a tendency to stand out in a crowd, after all. "Ilmir," she called out.
Blessed with both vampiric and draconic senses, he heard her call out his name as though she'd whispered it right in his ear, and he instantly turned upon hearing it. Standing well over 7ft at his full height, he picked her out of the crowd with ease, deftly brushing past the dancing patrons to meet her. "My Lady," he said as he approached. "Is everything alright?"
By the time he came to stand before her, she had to crane her neck back just to meet his gaze. His flaming, scarlet eyes were wrought with concern, the same she could see etched across his scaled, draconic features. "Yes. I'm, uh.. I'm fine," she insisted, nodding softly. "I'm turning in for the night, is all. You can consider yourself off duty for the remainder of the evening."
His obsidian brow furrowed. "You're not staying for the party, my Lady?"
At his question, she looked off to the far end of the ballroom from which she'd just fled, her gut sinking as she spotted Nerellion once again glued to his master's side. In almost perfect unison, they both peered over in her direction as if sensing her gaze upon them, and she immediately looked away. "No," she said finally, shaking her head. "I guess I'm not feeling particularly festive today."
"But.. Lord Astarion organised this celebration in your honour," he said hesitantly, casting his gaze towards his master. "Are you sure you want to leave?"
Only Ilmir would be so bold as to question her. Other than Astarion, he was likely one of the rare few who could do so without immediate reprimand or consequence. As her Chamberlain and personal bodyguard, she would openly admit that he was permitted certain leniencies that she wouldn't grant otherwise. Still, that didn't do anything to prevent the prickle of annoyance that crept up her spine. "Do I seem unsure to you, Ilmir?"
"..no, my Lady," he replied, lowering his gaze. "My apologies. I'll see you to your chambers right away."
"No need," she assured him, raising an insistent hand between them. "You stay and enjoy yourself. I'd say you've earned a night off."
Even through the music, she could make out the underlying thrum of uncertainty that rumbled through him. A resonant hum that his kind emitted as a means of expressing certain emotions. Once again, he looked between her and the great, vampire Lord at the far end of the hall, claws twitching at his sides in apprehension. He didn't need to say anything for her to understand the thoughts running through his mind right now. Though she was his sire, Astarion was his Lord just the same, and it was he who had been so insistent about her having a personal guard in the first place. Wholly unnecessary, given her overwhelming capability and power. Still, if it put her lover's mind at ease, who was she to deny him?
"Very well," she conceded. "You may see me to my chambers. But once you see it through, you're to ensure you actually have some fun tonight, is that clear?"
He laughed a little, offering a confirming nod. "Crystal, my Lady."
Side by side, the two left the ballroom and made their way through the palace, venturing through the vast, ornate halls and up the marbled stairways. Truly, her beloved home was a work of art. A dream shared between her and Astarion that had been brought to fruition over the course of a couple of years. Though gothic in its architectural design, the palette and décor were light and elegant. Lots of creams, whites and golds. It was a luxurious home, but one built with love. And yet, even though it was constantly bustling with life, right now it just felt so.. empty.
As they headed down the hallway that led to her chambers, Luna looked around at the many painted portraits of her and her handsome, vampiric lover hanging upon the walls, feeling that pang of anxiety settle in her gut once more. "Ilmir.." she began, casting her ruby gaze towards him. "Do you think our kind can love eternally? In a romantic sense, I mean?"
He frowned at her question. "It's well known that vampires mate for life. Even descendants like me."
Descendants; the new terminology she and Astarion had agreed upon when they began to sire a new age of vampires, given that 'spawn' eventually devolved into a slur in his eyes. Left a bitter taste whenever the word would pass his lips aloud. But unlike the old days, the only mortals turned were ones who longed for such a fate. Ones who came to the palace and pleaded for it, offering the prerequisite dowry, along with their all too willing necks, in order to be welcomed into the loving arms of House Ancunin.
It was a fair deal. An investment. Those seeking life everlasting would be granted their wish, and the many benefits that came along with it. If they should so choose, they'd be permitted access to live within the palace bounds. Provided with indulgent comforts and luxurious accommodations that most could only but dream of. They would feed lavishly. Whether it be from the many voluntary donors on standby, or the regal beasts their hunters worked tirelessly to obtain. And in return, all their Dark Prince asked for was their service, their devotion, and their unwavering loyalty.
That's how Ilmir came to be in her service. Previously a mercenary Captain in his past life, his battle prowess and brute, Dragonborn strength made him an easy candidate to stand as her personal guard. That's why Astarion had allowed Luna to turn him herself, for the bond between sire and descendant was remarkably strong. It's probably why, out of everyone here, Ilmir was perhaps the only person she felt comfortable enough to have this discussion with. She trusted him implicitly, with both her life, and her quiet thoughts. "Yes.. you're right, of course," she sighed, running a hand through her long, golden hair. "Forgive me, I fear I'm not quite myself this evening."
"Perhaps if you were to share what's actually troubling you.."
She looked to him with a raised brow, a small smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. "No flies on you, is there?"
"I've come to know you too well for that to be the case, my Lady," he chuckled.
"I suppose that's true," she tittered. And it was, to his credit. He'd pretty much remained by her side since she turned him nigh on seven years ago. In that time, they'd come to know each other exceptionally well. He was more than just her Chamberlain and her guard. Over the years, he'd come to be a most treasured friend.
As they, at last, reached the grand doors to her chambers, they stilled to a halt and she turned to face him, looking up into his flaming, crimson eyes. "If there was something going on that I should know about.. you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"
He shifted uncomfortably on the spot, reaching up to idly scratch the underside of his jaw. "I, uh.." he erred. "I mean.. of course, my Lady."
His sudden discomfort most definitely didn't escape her notice. Not that it was particularly discreet, mind. "I see," she said, narrowing her gaze. "You've never lied to me before, Ilmir. Unfortunately for you, it only makes it glaringly obvious when you do try." Stepping closer, her features softened with understanding, realising full well that she was putting him on the spot. But if anyone would dare to speak a hard truth for her sake, it would be him. "Please, Ilmir," she pleaded. "Whatever is going on, I will make my peace with it. But I don't like being in the dark here. It makes me look and feel like a fool."
"My Lady," he sighed. "Forgive me, but I ca-"
"..it's Nerellion, isn't it?"
"What?!" he startled, flaming eyes wide in alarm. "M-my Lady, I.."
Stepping closer, she set her hand upon his scaled, obsidian forearm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay," she said gently. "I only wish for the truth. On my word, you shall reap no repercussions for telling me."
His eyes flicked down to where her hand rested upon his arm, his broad shoulders slumping with his sullen sigh. "My Lady, you don't understand," he said ruefully. "The situation with Lord Astarion, it's.. it's not what you think."
"Then tell me."
His gaze slowly drifted up to meet her own, just barely, but she could see the regret and turmoil dancing within those licks of scarlet flame. Torn between his fealty to his Lady and his Lord. Or perhaps he was just afraid that the truth would hurt her, and that was something he simply couldn't bear to see. "Lord Astarion loves you dearly," he said finally, his eyes pleading for her understanding. "You are his mate. His most beloved Consort. He would never do anything to betray you. Please, just.. take my word on that."
A pained crinkle etched across her brow, and she pulled her hand away to fall to her side once more. Whatever was going on, it seemed even her closest friend couldn't see fit to alleviate her woes. Part of her understood. It was a testament to his loyalty.. just not for her, it seemed. Though, she couldn't help but wonder if fear also played a part in his stayed tongue. Either way, she was done trying to pry the truth from his lips. Sooner or later, she'd discover it for herself, one way or another.
"Very well," she nodded, her tone curt and final. She reached for the ornate door handle, letting out a quiet huff of resignation. "I appreciate you seeing me to my chambers, Ilmir. You are free to spend the rest of the night as you wish. Though, I'd ask that you advise the others to leave me in peace. I'd like to be alone for a while."
"My Lady," he urged regretfully, tentatively reaching for her. "I-"
"Good night, Ilmir," she cut in, stepping through the threshold. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, giving him a single parting nod. "That will be all."
She closed the door before he could say anything else, leaning back against it the moment she heard it click shut behind her. Wearily rubbing her brow, a wave of unpleasant emotions flooded through her, tears welling in her scarlet eyes as she was overwrought with the feelings she'd been holding at bay until she was alone.
Casting her gaze towards her huge, four poster bed; just how long had it been since her Dark Prince last lay there beside her? These were their chambers, after all. Until recently, they had shared this space together. She looked around the luxurious surroundings, taking in the details they'd mapped out together way back when; the huge skylight set into the high ceiling, the great balcony and the expansive windows set into the stone. It felt light and airy. Open and free. Astarion had spent nigh on two hundred years cowering from the sun, and now that they could bask in its exuberant rays together, they vowed that he'd never have to hide from it again.
And yet, recently he'd taken to resting in his office. Worked so hard that he found himself slipping into a trance right there at his desk. That's what he'd told her. If only she'd known at the time what an absolute crock of shit that really was. Gods, she felt like a bloody fool.
Was this to be how she spent her eternity? She was his right hand, he'd said. His partner in all things. His most beloved. He'd promised her forever, and now look where they were. Barely over a decade into said forever and she had no idea as to where she stood. He was making her look like an idiot, and she'd be damned if she was going to tolerate it any longer.
Mind made up, she pushed off of the door and headed deeper into her chambers, marching forward with a newfound sense of purpose. If he was going to have his cake and eat it, then she damn well would too. Better yet, she'd just leave. Take her personal flock of sired descendants and start her own coven. She was so much more than his mere Consort, and she would take great pleasure in reminding him of that fact.
With a defiant smile, she reached back to untie the corseted fastenings of her gown, breathing a sigh of relief upon feeling the cinched fabric fall away from her tanned skin. Slipping it off the rest of the way, she laid it carefully across the white ottoman sat at the foot of the bed, then stepped towards the chic, matching armoire to pick out her nightgown.
Over the years, she'd come to accrue many alluring pieces intended to drive her man wild. And they did precisely that. Slinky little garments of lace, mesh and silk, in all his preferred colours. On this occasion, she wanted something a little more daring. Something to make her feel good on the outside, even if she was wrought with turmoil on the inside. In the end, she went for one of her favourites. Slipped it on and ran her fingers across the silken fabric, relishing the way it felt like a gentle caress against her body. With string like straps and finishing just at the thigh, this little nightgown hugged her curves in all the right ways, while the champagne colour complimented her sun kissed complexion perfectly. This wasn't one of Astarion's preferred colours, it was hers. Made her feel sexy for no other reason than just because she wanted to.
Already feeling a little better for it, she took a moment to pamper herself a little more. Claimed the ornate, golden brush from her vanity and brushed out the curls set into her long, golden hair for the evening's celebrations. Though a simple nightgown and a little self care were, by no means, a miracle cure for a sullen heart, Luna could still feel the tension in her shoulders beginning to slip away.
Until her elven and vampiric senses detected footsteps emerging from just beyond her chambers, and the unmistakable click of her door opening. She didn't bother to turn around, just let out a disgruntled huff as she carried on running the brush through her cascading, sandy tresses.
"Ilmir, I already told you I didn't want to be disturbed," she said plainly. "Whatever it is can wait until morning."
"My, my," a familiar voice purred. "I never thought I'd see the day where you'd call me by another man's name.. I can't say I'm too fond of it. Though, I'm glad we weren't in the midst of passion, at least.."
She whirled on the spot upon hearing it, locking eyes with piercing, crimson orbs and a playful smile she was all too familiar with.
"..Astarion?" she startled, her hand falling to her side. "What are you doing here?"