She wasn't too far from her new home as she looked past the rooftops. It was early in the night, possibly nine or ten o'clock, when she made it back to Astarion's house. It was dimly lit as she climbed though the second-story window into her new room. Closing the window, she placed her pack onto the bed and decided to look for Astarion. She hoped that she could get the jump on him again and manage to scare him.

She slowly pushed open the door as she glanced around the hallway. Luastra listened as she heard a slight movement in the study near the living room. Carefully, she descended the stairs without a sound as she grinned. She usually hunted in the streets or in the wilderness. She rarely could sneak around a house in search of prey. However, once she reached the study, she found it completely empty. Frowning, she leaned into the room to check the corners in case he was hiding.

"Hello, my dear," Astarion greeted as he placed a knife next to her throat. Luastra groaned as she slowly turned to see him behind her. "I'm surprised you didn't come in through the backdoor again."

"I wanted to surprise you," she sighed as he chuckled, removing the blade.

"Very few people get the drop on me once, let alone twice. I'm sure you'll figure out something," he teased as she stood up straight. "I didn't think you were going to be here for another few days."

"Didn't make sense to wait. I wanted to be out on my own," Luastra explained.

"Can't blame you. There's food in the kitchen if you're hungry. Not sure what you like to eat, but I should have something to your liking," he offered, returning the blade to his belt. Luastra hummed as she carefully stalked around him. He smirked, watching her carefully.

Luastra quietly padded to the kitchen, glancing through the cabinets. Sure enough, it was well stocked with essentials and staples you would find in any kitchen, only all of it was sealed and untouched. While she was sure it wasn't poisoned, she found it odd that all of it was brand new. It was also strange that all of it were ingredients to make something grander. There was no bread, no sweets, and very few vegetables aside from a couple of onions and potatoes. She grimaced as she realized that she was going to have to cook if she wanted to eat, and that was something she had never done before.

Astarion leaned against the doorframe as he watched her rummage through the pantry. He had hoped for more time to make it look like he actually used his kitchen before she got there, but it hadn't been his priority. Instead, he had written a short letter explaining her interest in the marriage to Cazador as he was instructed to, mentioning the threat to his life as well. It certainly had a Bhaalist quality to it.

She grabbed a couple potatoes and placed them on the counter. She knew the basics of cooking at least, so she grabbed a knife and did her best to cut the potatoes into smaller chunks. She was too focused to notice that Astarion was staring at her, watching her try to cook. Once the potatoes were to her liking, she glanced around to find the stove. However, setting the cubes directly onto the burner seemed wrong.

Uncertainty filled her veins as she thought through the process. Surely even nobles knew how to cook the simplest things. She clenched her jaw, wondering if this would be a dealbreaker for Astarion. So, she grabbed a pot that was hanging around the stove and placed it down. This seemed better than nothing, and she tossed the chunks in before lighting the fire beneath the metal. She glanced up to see Astarion watching with a complete neutral expression. Luastra exhaled, surprised at herself that she was relieved that he wasn't judging her.

Once the potatoes were cooked, and rather burnt, she took the pot off the stove and waited for them to cool. Soon, they were cool enough to be picked up and she tossed one into her mouth. Luastra chewed, the burnt side crunching in her mouth. She frowned, wondering where she had gone wrong. The taste was bland outside the burnt bit, which was the worst part. She looked up to Astarion, who had been staring at his nails. With a sigh, she placed the pot in the sink and filled it with water. Feeling dejected, she decided that she would clean the pot later, or perhaps steal one if she couldn't get the charred potato off the bottom, and she went to her room.

~U~

Astarion had seen what Luastra was doing, and while he also didn't know how to cook, he knew that most people seasoned their food. He wondered if he even had seasoning as she tried not to burn the house down. Her face had said it all when she tried the food. It was clear that she never had to cook for herself before when the frown appeared. He noticed that she was turning her head toward him, and he pretended to be interested in his hand instead. He had no advice to give about her cooking nor did he want to give the impression he was judging her.

He was absolutely judging her, but he thought it might be better to play nice for now. Luastra had proved herself to be a predator, and he needed to make sure that he didn't become her prey. He was sure there would be time for teasing, just not at that moment. She had rushed past him and went to her room.

With a sigh, he also ignored the pot in the sink and went to his study. He had some work to get done before tomorrow. While he didn't take his job too seriously, he still had to make sure he kept the position. If he lost it, he would be back on the streets, luring meals back for his master.

The night passed with ease, and Luastra hadn't left her room. He assumed that she would use the window most of the time. She seemed opposed to using the door like a normal person. Another hint she might be more than just a noble's daughter. He wondered if he should have pretended to trance to keep up his appearance, but he found that he hadn't cared if she noticed his strange habits.

Astarion packed his bag and left a note explaining that he was off to work on the kitchen counter. He left and went to the allocated library within the courthouse. Under the guise he was using it for a case he was working on, he sprinkled in some cult biographies, hoping to gain some insight into Bhaalists. He was sure that Luastra was in the cult, but he needed to prove it beyond a doubt before he confronted her about it.

The vampire flipped through a book written recently, learning that most Bhaalists will have a small token for their worship. Nothing fancy or gaudy to draw an unwanted eye. Most were very careful about their practice as it could be grounds for imprisonment. Astarion frowned, realizing that he might have to snoop through Luastra's belongings to discover the small trinket, which was both dangerous and distrustful. If he wanted to find that necromancy book, he needed her to trust him.

Another book caught his eye as well, although he wasn't sure if it was exactly helpful. It was most detailing the Bhaalist Crisis from a few decades ago, mostly centering on the Bhaalspawn who saved Baldur's Gate. At least, he hoped that it was going to be useful information. Having another Bhaalspawn crisis didn't bode well for any citizen within the walls of the city.

As most Baldurians had, Astarion remembered old tales about the terror of the Bhaalspawn. He figured that most of them were to frighten children to keep them inside after dark, but the stories had been based on truth. So were the stories told about vampires, he supposed. Of course, there hadn't been record of a Bhaalspawn since the Crisis, so the chance of him running into one now were slim.

Still, he skimmed through the book, looking for clues hidden between the lines. Maybe he could find the old temple and search for it himself. Perhaps Luastra knew and could help him. Once he proved that she was a cultist, at least. Accusing her of being a Bhaalist without knowing for sure could jeopardize his mission, and he couldn't go back to working the streets for Cazador. That simply was not an option.

As he flipped a page, he came across something interesting. Most Bhaalists lived among citizens, with some living in the temple itself. However, Bhaalspawn lived in the temple exclusively, acting as the cult's leaders. It's very rare to find a Bhaalspawn on the surface, mingling with who they would see as prey. Astarion made a mental note in case he decided that he was going to find the temple on his own.

Soon, the work day came to an end and Astarion replaced the books back on the shelf. He had learned a great deal about the Bhaalist cult, and he had a pretty good idea for what he was looking for regarding Bhaalist symbology. He just hoped that Luastra wouldn't realize that he had gone through her things.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside the home, carefully listening for Luastra. He heard activity in the kitchen, which surprised him. He put his bag in the study before wandering into the kitchen. He paused in the doorway as he took in the chaos.

It looked like a tornado had whipped through the kitchen, spilling flour and eggs everywhere. Luastra was in the middle of the mess, covered in her ingredients, holding a bowl and spoon as she tried to read a beat-up old book on the counter. He cleared his throat as she turned to him, a mixture of annoyance and panic in her eyes.

"What's going on in here?" He asked, trying to keep his tone level. The last thing he expected was to come home to a complete mess.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm learning how to cook," Luastra retorted, gesturing to the bowl in her arms. Astarion clenched his jaw and nodded once.

"What are you making?"

"Bread currently. I made a stew on the stove that's, uh," she paused as she glanced at the recipe book. "Simmering. It's simmering."

"I see," he replied, still taking in the light dusting on every surface. Luastra sighed as she put the dough into a loaf pan. Another moment passed before Luastra grabbed a rag and tried to clean her hands.

"I'm sorry I made a mess, I'll clean it up," she groaned, guessing at his displeasure. She had wanted to show that she wasn't useless. While their relationship was one of convenience, she was worried that he would kick her out if she didn't fit into his life. Just when she had experienced the first free day she'd had in years.

"You know, we can hire a cook if you'd like," Astarion mentioned, confused by her motivation. Most noble women never cooked, so he was hardly surprised when she had burnt the potatoes.

"At least taste the food before you dismiss it," she snapped, throwing the loaf into the oven. Astarion raised an eyebrow as she glared at him. He grabbed a spoon from the drawer, keeping eye contact.

"Did your mother cook often?" he asked as he pulled the lid off the pot. The smell was a little sour, but he tasted it. Mortal food was often bland and tasteless on a good day. Sometimes he could feel the spice on his tongue, but only blood had any taste. He hummed in approval as he noticed Luastra's quietness.

"I don't think so. I spent most of my childhood living with my father's friends. They usually would scrounge up some food and we'd eat what we'd find," she whispered, her guard raised.

"I only mentioned the cook for your own comfort. I had guessed you had never cooked because of your nobility," Astarion explained with a shrug. "I can't say I know how to cook either."

"We'll see how the bread tastes and we can go from there, I guess. I wanted to try to impress you, show that I can be useful too," Luastra exhaled after a moment.

"Darling, you don't have to impress me, nor do you have to earn your keep. Feel free to learn how to cook or anything you'd like, but don't feel like you have to prove something," Astarion reassured. All he needed from her was the book's location, and if that meant that she freeloaded off him and Cazador, then he was happy to oblige. She scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

"What do you get out of this, then?"

"Like I said, with our arrangement, I won't have suitors, and I get my… father off my back about settling down. Plus, I get to show you off to everyone when we go to dinner parties. If you would like to attend, at least," Astarion teased as leaned against the cleanest spot of the counter. "I do like having someone here to watch the house as well. Although have you thought of becoming an adventurer? I think you have a knack for it, since you're so adept at lockpicking and knifework."

"Adventuring?" she repeated. "I never really thought I would leave the city, to be honest. Aren't most adventurers do-gooders? I'm not sure I fit the profile."

"Just a thought. Your dagger skills are impressive."

"Something I picked up. Would you want to adventure? See the world?"

"And sleep in the dirt? No, thanks, I'm more than happy with a roof over my head," Astarion answered. Luastra laughed and agreed.

"I suppose I should start to clean this up. I didn't realize it had gotten so out of hand," she sighed before casting prestidigitation around the kitchen. Astarion watched as the flour mess disappeared and left the kitchen nearly spotless.

"You can do magic?"

"It's limited, but yes. A gift from my father's bloodline, although I'm the first sorceress in a few centuries I'm told. If I keep practicing, I should be able to do grander magic," Luastra explained as she pulled her hair to one side and turned around. "He gave me a tattoo on the back of my neck when I was an infant to guarantee the magic would stay within me."

Astarion's eyes widened as he stared at the intricate tattoo at the base of Luastra's skull. It had faded from so many years, but the lines were unmistakable. It was Bhaal's mark he had seen in the book he had read. Ice ran through his veins as he tried to cover his shock, humming in approval. He gently reached out and traced the lines, hoping to feign interest in it.

"I've never seen it, but my mother says that it's a beautiful design," Luastra shrugged before she let her hair down again. "She says that it's a focus for my magic, where others would use a staff or a book. My father imbued it with his magic so I could draw mine from it."

"I've never heard of that before," Astarion mentioned, realizing that he would need to notify Cazador about this development.

"Really? I didn't realize that was a rare practice," Luastra hummed as the stew started to boil over. "Shit."

"I'll let you finish dinner, I just need to finish up a few things in my office," he suggested before she waved him off, trying not to burn the house down.

Astarion calmly bounded towards his office and began drafting a letter about the developments to Cazador. He now had undeniable proof that Luastra belonged to the cult, but Astarion wasn't sure if she knew what kind of things she was involved with. Either she was lying about how she got her tattoo, or her mother was lying to her about the origins. More research would have to be done to determine how involved in the cult she was, but for now, he could report that he was on the right track.