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AMNE POV

We ate dinner and sat around the campfire, the orange light biting the gloom around us. It wouldn't be long hopefully before we could move on from this place. Break past this cursed land towards Baldur's Gate and all that awaited there. And in the meantime we might help ease this curse. Maybe. Or we'd make it worse. I wasn't sure which we would land on. With this group, how could I be? But as I sat amongst them and focused on the present, on the meal, on the conversation, that simmering began at the back of my mind again. Damn it. Why did it keep happening? That want for violence. An urge to hurt. My muscles ached to move, to grab a weapon, to do something.

I clenched my hands tightly but the heat still brewed in my gut. My allies kept flickering from points of light to potential targets. Stop it. They are my friends, my allies, those people had helped me get this far and already survive several challenges. I wasn't about to repay that by slaughtering them all. Oh but they would look so good painted red. RED. Dripping, gushing, pouring. Yes! No. I bit down on my tongue and stared at the fire. Stop it. That is not me. That is not what I want to do. If I had given into those moments of madness already where would I be? I'd wanted to kill Astarion when I first met him, hadn't I? Fantasised about staining his white locks with red from his skull – and if I had? No connection, no bonding, no nights under the stars or gasped moments between the trees. All of that, gone. In a splash of crimson. So stop it. I do not want that, it will do nothing but sate this monster in me. Wherever it came from. And I don't want to sate it. I don't want to please it in any way.

It made no sense. Every time it reared its head within my mind, or tried to pull its strings on my body, I hated every second. It disgusted me. So why did it keep appearing? Why did it refuse to die? I wanted it gone. I wanted free of it, and yet each time it seemed to come back stronger. It made me fear my past. What had I done back then? Had it been so horrible I drove it from my mind, and forgot on purpose? Maybe. Possibly. It turned me cold to consider.

As soon as we were done eating and cleaning up, I excused myself to my tent. As soon as I was alone, the noise got so much louder. No longer a hum. It grew to a thunderous grinding. I knelt in the centre of my tent and clasped my hands in my lap. My body thrummed. Every beat of my heart came with another itch to move, another jolt to lash out. Stop. I will not be ruled by this. I do not want this. Stop. But on it went, bubbling louder between my ears, churning in my stomach, raking lashes along my heart. And my eyes warmed with tears. Because despite holding on, I feared that it wouldn't be long until I couldn't. Rest. It called my name, my thoughts already sluggish after the long day. But if I slept, how would I control these maddening impulses? I might get up in my sleep. I might go across the way. I might paint snowy curls crimson.

No.

My eyes snapped open, and I found myself crouched, leaning towards my weapons. Shit. When had I moved? I thought I was still kneeling. Had I been drifting off? I couldn't be sure. I snatched my hand back and clasped it to my chest. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Astarion. Why would I? He had been a good ally. Sure with the odd mistake thrown in there, but all that was overshadowed by the rest. The good. We had connected. We had bonded. I felt real kinship with him. Hells, it felt like it might be becoming more than that, since we shared that intimacy. So why did I now crave his death? I swallowed hard. Even thinking it made a swell of temptation crash over my nerves. Damn it. No. Please. Please don't do this. Don't ruin it all. Don't–

The camp was quiet outside, they would all be sleeping or resting now.

Laying in their tents like blissful lumps of meat.

Astarion.

It was so easy to picture him, lying there, eyes closed, at peace in his meditative state. The lines of his face smoothed in slumber-esq tranquillity. I shivered. He was so afraid, wasn't he? So afraid of everyone, besides me, when really that was who he should have feared the most. My blood quickened at the idea. Of fear sparking in his ruby eyes, of his lips quivering as I loomed over him. So pretty. He had always been so pretty.

I jolted and curled over on myself, gripping the bedroll beneath my knees and gritting my teeth. No. Stop this. This isn't–

But on my mind churned, that urge yearning to kill. And it would, wouldn't it? Tonight? Yes, tonight. The moment I closed my eyes properly it would happen. He would be brutalised. By me. B-But I cared so much for him. I enjoyed being beside him, talking with him, fighting alongside. Hells, did I love him even? I don't know. Shit. Shit. But we all kill what we love most, in time. Don't we? Yes. Yes of course we do. Or at least… I do. Paint it red, like all the others. I shuddered and my body prickled all over. Red. RED. I cared for Astarion for more than his looks – but he'd never believe that would he? I'd seen the doubts myself. Felt them rebut me. So why not do it? Why not make him a pretty corpse? I wanted to be sick. No. Why am I thinking such things? Such awful things. I haven't even told him how I feel, tried to make that connection solid. Again the trembles came. Again the temptation slithered through my nerves. I could say it as I twisted a knife, surely? Confess as he breathed his last. How poetic. How sick! Stop!

Astarion.

He lay there, so blissfully unaware. Not a care in the world.

Shit, wait. When did I come to his tent? Why's my knife tucked into the back of my trousers?

Shivering gripped me and I knelt by him. I should wake him. Warn him. He lay there so still, breathing evenly, beautiful face a serene mask of ease. Yes. Wake him dammit. Any second this monster was going to win, wasn't it? Reach out and shake him awake! But his throat was so close. Right there. Clasp it, choke it, break it! No. I gritted my teeth as my tears continued to brew. I don't want this.

I shook him awake.

He blinked and looked up at me blearily for a moment. Then recognition sparked and a smirk fell into place. The same smirk I longed to see when I was unsure of something. There was something so solid about the way his lips curled, so confident. It might be a mask. But it was one I'd come to depend on.

He sat up and tilted his head in the dim light, eyes raking over me. "Well, hello. Looking for a cuddle?"

My hand wavered in the air, the want to hurt still ringing like a bell in my mind.

He raised a brow and stopped lounging as much, tension tightening his jaw. "Although, you don't look entirely yourself. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"You're in danger." I choked out between my teeth, his eyes brightening with instinct as he no doubt felt the threat. "We need to act fast."

"Alright, talk quickly."

And so I told him, I let that impulse guide the flow of confession as I explained all of it. The way temptation kept crawling into place, how I'd excused myself after dinner to quell it, how it kept rising like bile. All leading me there, looming over him in the dark. As if my growing connection to him had only been a threading of his noose. And he listened. Those quick eyes stayed glued to me the whole time while I told my tale. And with every confession my body grew wearier. My limbs heavier. My mind fogged with fatigue and a headache blossomed behind my eyes. Sh-Shit. My head. It was the worst pain I'd ever known, like someone was ramming a blade of salt into my skull.

"Please." I gasped, wavering and bracing myself against the floor by his bedroll, my breaths coming quick and panicked. "I c-can't hold it back."

"I hear you, Little One. It's alright. And if it's all the same to you, I'd much rather be the only dark power inside your body."

And weak laughter left me, his attempts to lighten the air a sweet one, but not able to break this chain of violence currently strangling me. I wished it was something I could just grapple myself. Grab hold of it and make it obey. But it wasn't something physical. No. It was looser than that. Like mist slithering through my blood.

"I n-need you to stop me. I can't… I can't hurt you. P-Please…"

He sighed. "You could have talked to me before things got murderously bad, you know. We are technically in this together."

"I'm sorry. I-I know, I… I…" The heaviness peaked and I wavered to the side, slumping as my vision blurred. And darkness took me, my words choking as hot bile burned up my throat. "H-Help…"

ASTARION POV

She fell, pale as milk, body limp as she slumped. His heart ached. When he woke to the sight of her in his tent he had been intrigued, he had been a little wary in case she sought physical connection he wasn't ready to repeat, but he hadn't expected anything like this. At dinner she had seemed out of sorts – but he assumed she was just tired. And yes he had seen her become distracted at times. Seen her have those dark episodes where instinct dragged her towards the inhumane. But she had always bit them back before. Well, almost. Poor Squirrel. But still, every other time she had commanded it back before it lashed out. But not this time. Something had changed. Maybe she was just too weary from the road, or maybe she hadn't killed recently enough? He had no idea. But it didn't really matter, did it? Even though she was losing control, even though she was literally vibrating with shivers, fighting within herself with everything she had, she had saved him again. She had denied it. Warned him.

He cradled her, and as she convulsed eyes rolled back, choking on that final plea, he angled her to spit the bile out and held her a moment more. Danger. She had said it herself. And if the struggle had dragged her into unconsciousness, there was no telling where it might lead next. She didn't want to hurt him. It had been in her words, her pleas, and her eyes. So lost, wide and shining. Desperate. Pleading. So he held her close for another moment, kissed her head and then grabbed the rope from his pack. Time to help her back to herself. He knew she would do the same for him.

It took another ten minutes or so, but finally she came to the surface. Or at least, part of her did. There was no physical change, not literally, but her eyes were not her own when she opened them to glare. No warmth. No shine or sparkle. Nothing. Just a want for death, to create chaos and punishment. She wasn't really there, not the Amaya he knew and cared for. Even on the darker nights when they had endured violence in the city, when he found her under that tavern bleeding, she hadn't looked so cold. So… Empty. Perhaps it wasn't that woman from their shared vision Amaya had been running from, maybe it was this darkness.

She bared her teeth and struggled against the bindings, but was stuck fast.

To see her so lost to it, so empty and cold. It was wrong. Amaya was many things, but not this, not a slave to some strange darkness plaguing her mind. She rose above such things. She fought. It outraged him that something thought it could claim her.

"This thing won't have you." He sat close and gritted his teeth. "It won't win."

And he saw it, all the vile things she wanted to say, her bared teeth flashing in the lantern light he had lit since she slept. Her struggles became jolts. Spasms. No doubt awful things ran through her mind; threats, cruel promises. But as they did, he then saw those other flickers. That trace of his Amaya, his Amne. And her brows pinched in the middle. Understanding. It shone out at him for the barest second, before being swallowed again by that darkness. She was in there. Trying to get out.

He nodded. "Easy now, darling. You've got this. And I've got you."

And he meant it. As much as he trusted her to have his back in their day-to-day struggles, in that moment he wanted to have hers. To measure up for her. To be there. To help. She had been so kind when his hunger took over in the Spider Cavern, so understanding. He knew that kindness went deep. He had seen it in their time together in Baldur's Gate and on the road too. She had a warm heart. A giving heart. Not a bloodthirsty madness. That… He wasn't sure where that came from. But the more he saw, the more he could understand why she had been running so hard. And been so afraid. Made sense. It had quite the hold on her…

Another jolt. Another roll of her eyes and convulsing of her body. The struggle looked like it might be tearing her apart, but he saw no physical wounds at least. No blood to be smelt at all. But she was fighting. He knew that. He trusted that. And eventually with a weary huff and gulp, he saw it again, reason, and even gratitude. She was glad of his help. She was thankful.

He smiled softly. "You'd do the same for me. Now just relax - dawn isn't far off."

And on she struggled. Sickly. Sweating. Baring her teeth and choking back cries of defiance. But the night passed bloodlessly as well. He wondered if it was how he had looked as a newborn vampire, if the bloodlust made his eyes that empty, his movements that jerking and broken. He couldn't be sure. And even when the lust had overtaken him the first time he drank from her, no one had been around to see it. But he recalled how he had clasped her close, how his body had curled round her like a mangy cat defending some new kill. It probably wasn't far off at all. And after all that, drained and bruised, what had she done? She had defended him. So yes. He would stay, he would watch and he would make sure she made it to the other side. Because he had meant what he said before, he knew she would do exactly the same for him…

AMNE POV

Ropes. They were rough and bit into my wrists. Ow. My body felt so heavy, limbs aching from all the wriggling. But my hands were clean. Red was nowhere to be found. I took a long breath, it rattled with my ongoing shivering, but steadied towards the end. I was myself again. The burning need was cooled beneath me, buried again for now. Shit. Had I really made it out the other side?

Astarion was watching from beside the bedroll, his keen eyes studying without comment until finally he gave a small nod and reached to untie me. Clearly it was fairly easy to tell when I was me vs. when this awful darkness swelled up from within. I'd take comfort in that. And as he untied me and I rubbed my wrists, he returned to sitting beside me, a soft smile on his lips and an unbelievable amount of understanding in his gaze.

"Now that you're back with us, we need to have a talk." He spoke gently, sitting casually with one knee up and his arm slung over it. Calm. At ease. And my heart warmed at the sight. He wasn't afraid of me. That meant so much in the wake of it all, and I think he knew that. Of course he did, I suppose. I'd done my best to do the same after his first feeding from me went awry. Damn, we really were a pair of fools.

I accepted the water he held out and sat round to face him, hugging my knees to my chest, resting my chin on top of my knees. Holding myself. But not hiding. He had every right to be curious about this, and I wanted to tell him. So I did. I explained it all in minute detail, every moment it had teased at the back of my mind during our whole journey. When those impulses had called. Even when it sprung to my mind as we fucked that time in the trees. I was probably retreading ground to some extent, but I had to make sure it all made sense beyond my panicked garble from before.

He listened and nodded gently. "You're not alone in this – none of us are. We can even compare notes if you like." He shrugged and I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips. He saw it too, I should have known. The parallels were hard to ignore.

"I… I promise I'll be the person you see in me. The one worth helping. Worth saving."

"A promise? My, my." He leaned back and tilted his head. "Alright, accepted. But whatever this is, you will get through it. And I'll be here to make sure you do."

"Thank you, Astarion. Really. I don't know what I'd have done if–"

"Now let's not linger on that nastiness. After all, it's a brand new day. I'm sure we can find lots of people for you to kill."

And we laughed. For the ridiculousness of it, for the promise between us, for the fact he had cared enough to stop me and I had cared enough to stop myself as much as I could. Yes. We laughed.

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