Chapter Text
I walk down the opulent hallway in what was once the Szarr Palace - an all but forgotten past since Astarion took over. The walls are dressed cleaner, new paintings of Astarion and I hang everywhere in ornate gold frames, the old rugs have been thrown out and replaced with elaborately detailed ones Astarion had imported. Every candle and sconce has been changed. Astarion wanted no remanence of Cazador anywhere in his home, besides the overall layout of palace, and even that was beginning to change. He was renovating the spawn quarters, removing the kennels, and the basement of the palace was being constructed to be a liveable and useable space.
I pass the lavishly framed paintings but stop for a moment at my favourite one. It is a dreamy sunset of Baldur’s Gate the day we had destroyed the brain. I wanted to commemorate it. It is large and hung on an expansive wall near the main entrance of the palace. May all who enter know it was Astarion and I who saved Baldur’s Gate – and now rule it.
My double slit dress billows behind me and between my legs as I continue. The neckline plunges down to my waist, and thin strips of the sheer black fabric wraps around it. It leaves very little to the imagination, but I love to show off my body. A little sword necklace given to me by Astarion sits nestled between my breasts perfectly. He picked it out from a small shop when we went to visit Gale in Waterdeep earlier this year. Astarion said it was a reminder that I was his right hand, and his weapon. I may not be controlled by my father Bhaal anymore, but I willingly accepted becoming Astarion’s eternal lover. Not quite his equal, but I don’t mind. No one dared to get between us, and I liked it that way. No one else can say they are the consort of a Vampire Lord, let alone the only Vampire Ascendent in history.
It has been five years since the brain was destroyed and our tadpoles disintegrated, and Astarion has grown his influence splendidly in our city. Politicians love him and he keeps their coiffeurs full. His influence is exceedingly strong over them since he has generations of wealth now, and his ever-growing powers as the Ascendant Vampire. He has regular dealings with the cities’ developers who admire him for being the owner of most of the city buildings and much of the land surrounding Baldur’s Gate. His wealth, and ownership of the coast grows daily, and the more he gains the more he wants. It is nice for me as he bestows me with gifts, dresses, fine wine and I even own (well, he owns them but he still gifted them to me…), a perfume shop, Figaro’s tailor shop, and the newly acquired Sorcerous Sundries. I have unlimited access to all the books I could ever want now. I regularly couriered books to Gale in Waterdeep who now taught many aspiring wizards. He sometimes sends me books on Vampyrism and theories and speculations on how to cure it… He hasn’t chosen to come visit us yet. He still isn’t comfortable with my choice of staying with Astarion let alone becoming his spawn, but maybe one day he’ll get over it. I appreciate the books still, even though I have no interest in ridding myself of my position here. I do however smile at the thought that he still cares for me.
As I walk into the main hall, the spawn mumble as I pass by. Astarion’s spawn fear and want to sleep with him most desperately, and to drink from him and to be drunk by him. Those are their goals – to please their lord so he will favour them. So, they really hate me. And are so envious, I’m convinced that if they keep staring at me, their red eyes might turn green instead.
Astarion and I have a lavish master bedroom now on the top floor overlooking the city, which is off limits to all spawn. I have a library and workshop I can practice my magic in. The door is warded so that anyone not me, would be immobilized and cursed. I have a taste for theatrics, but I also have some powerful tomes in there that should not be touched by anyone but me. Then we have our dining room, which mostly serves as a sitting room and where we would host certain officials for meetings when we aren’t having extravagant parties. We really have too many parties. Most of the time I just sit and drink wine and keep tabs on the different spawn from my throne beside Astarion’s.
I glance at the other spawn as I passed them in the main hall, and oh how I look down my nose on them - he would never sink so low as to lay with them. A bunch of delusional pawns for us. I think to myself. But maybe I’m also delusional, thinking of them as mine too. I’m not like them. I keep telling myself, but I’ll never be a ‘True Vampire’ since the whole Vampire Ascendant thing changed the rules. Astarion and I feed on each other as consorts, and he gives me just enough to ensure I’m immune to sunlight, (which we learned the hard way that it wears off after some time). He could control me completely with his powers if he wanted to, but he hasn’t needed to yet. I’m quite content with my life and I adore him. So, naturally I’m happy to do his bidding when he asks and oversee tasks and assignments, which he delegates for me to take care of.
A smile creeps over my face as I think about it – control. I read the Necromancy Book of Thay, and the codec when we were on our quest to destroy the Absolute. He wanted to read it, of course – who wouldn’t want that power? But I found it. So, it’s mine, I decided then. And it’s still mine.
Actually, where is it? Oh ya, I think it’s under those books in the library by the book of the gods. I shrug to myself. I’ll look for it sometime. If anyone tries to read it, they’ll just go mad anyways.
I have years of experience as a necromancer and controlling the undead was and still is, my specialty. I don’t brag about this fact as I am surrounded by undead, but I think it frightens the other spawn knowing how much magic I possess, alongside my volatile nature to boot. Regardless, I will never be like the other spawn. I am his consort, his lover forever. Sometimes I think he fears my wrath as much as I fear his. He knows full well my dark urges never quite left… maybe they were never from Bhaal but from deep inside me instead…
Speaking of necromancy, I have all four of my flying ghouls summoned thanks to some criminals that I had hunted early in the week. I often tell the other spawn to collect any bodies so I can use them to resurrect my ghouls or zombies. I walk around with my ghouls more as a show of power than for anything else.
My snow-white hair is nicely braided today and pulled back showing off my delicately pointed ears. I think I like my new handmaid. She knows how to keep her mouth shut and her hair skills are among the best of them so far. I have my standard dark black eye makeup and a dark lip, a small, enchanted circlet across my forehead.
Astarion is sitting up on the dais on his wickedly crafted throne, whorls of dark ebony wood carved this way and that with a padded dark red cushioned back rest, arms and seat. The stitching: golden, of course. He has a sharp looking gold crown, with inset rubies. It’s also enchanted with a detect thoughts spell. I know this because I enchanted it for him myself. I smile. He looks the embodiment of power and authority. Some of his most trusted servant spawn stand around him. Not quite his assassin-bodyguard level spawn, but servants made to fetch him things and take notes as he needs. He is speaking with a merchant discussing a trade route and something about taxes to the palace. When Astarion notices me walking in, his eyes meet mine and he raises his hand to silence the merchant as I enter.
Astarion looks regal and commanding as ever. I smirk seductively raising my chin up to him in acknowledgment, as he stands and calls to me across the hall, “Ah there you are! My beautiful consort. Come, join me.”
I step quickly closing the distance between us, “Hello my love, I have dispatched of the problem. We will be pickier when choosing handmaidens in the future.”
“Of course, my treasure. Whatever you desire.” He purrs.
The servant spawn standing behind Astarion’s throne shift nervously, glancing quickly at each other. I make my way to the chair beside his, but he stops me, and grabs my wrist. Then pulls me in for a deep kiss, in front of the merchant who flushes and looks at his shoes. Astarion’s hands slide down to my rear and he gives me a squeeze in my semi-sheer revealing dress.
We have been almost inseparable since he turned me, and I still want him desperately even now. We are very rarely apart besides some day-to-day business. I might go shopping when the other spawn are asleep, check out my shops and take care of some meetings for Astarion, or go out to the taverns in the evening for a bite or two… but we really don’t stray too far from each other. Sometimes we even hunt together, but the more power and influence he obtains the more he has been busy with meetings and work. It has irritated me greatly, but there’s plenty to do still. However, it has left me wanting in recent months.
Astarion releases me from his embrace, his eyes on me as he sits down on his throne. He pats his thigh and I make myself comfortable as sit down and sprawl across his lap, hanging my one leg over the opposite armrest, the other one between his legs touching the ground with my bare toes. My back is against the other padded arm and his arm loops around under my back. Our standard seating arrangement. The revealing dress shows off my entire leg, thigh, and half my butt which is now on display for everyone in the room.
Some lower spawn, cleaning the far corner of the room, stare at me but are careful not to meet my eyes.
Oh how they wish they could be me. One of them looks defeated then continues cleaning as we are having another party this evening. Decorations were already in place, just some final tidying is needed and laying out of some food and drink. A local caterer will handle the human food, and we procured some fresh blood from some servant familiars eager to please Astarion, for our spawn. The local higher ups and politicians are attending tonight, who are fully aware of Astarion’s vampirism, and our subordinates’ conditions. They have been loyal so far, especially since we have been diligent in removing any suspected monster hunter presence in the city.
The merchant blushes again as he sees me shift on Astarion’s lap and the sheer fabric slides further between my legs. I think I spend more time sitting on Astarion’s lap then I do in my own chair to his right, but I don’t mind one bit. His throne is quite comfortable with its rounded arms, designed to fit us both. I like showing off that I’m his too. Astarion grabs my rear with one hand and moves his other between my legs realizing I have no under garments.
“Oh, I do like this new dress.” He speaks quietly and hungrily to me in my ear. His breath and lips tickling it’s edge.
“I knew you would.” I say wickedly as I pick at my nails - some crusted blood from the earlier events of the day. I suck on my finger tasting a dried fleck, and I think the merchant is about to have a heart attack. I’m hungry. I stop sucking on my fingers and then I casually command my ghouls to stand on either side of us.
I look at the scuffed ring on my finger. Astarion never lets me leave him without this ring and the magic warding bond active. Our matching rings were found in the shadowlands when we were adventuring those years ago, and we haven’t taken them off since. He casts the warding bond on me every morning since the day we found them. He says it’s so he knows I’m safe when I’m not with him.
One time, when we had travelled down the coast together shortly after the brain was destroyed, three very unfortunate souls had the brilliant idea to jump me while I walked back from our room at night. I had gone to change into something more suited to the humid evening air, and left Astarion at the seaside tavern with a couple of very pretty, very human girls who were wide eyed listening to his various tales and adventure stories. They hung on his every word as the pretty white-haired elf in front of them held their undivided attention. His charm and embellishing words enraptured them quickly, he bought them expensive drinks all evening, and we were hoping they would join us for our dinner that night. Rather, that they would be our dinner that night. If there weren’t pretty, innocent girls and handsome young men, there were lowlifes and criminals to feed on but honestly the pretty and handsome ones tasted best to me. Their blood was unspoiled usually and tasted fresher. Young girls would always spot Astarion, be charmed by him and eventually want him to bite them of their own free will. I know the feeling all too well as he had that allure when I first met him too. I jumped at the chance to offer him my neck when he first asked me and allowed him to feed on me every night since then – if he wanted. So, as I walked through the dark garden that humid evening wearing a loose-fitting, low-cut dress I had packed, a very ugly man stepped out in front of me.
“Hello precious little elf girl, what are you doing wandering around all alone?” He slobbered as two other foul-smelling men stepped out from the bushes behind me, one holding a worn looking knife in one hand, flecked with rust. Their clothes smelled of body odour and grime. These people were not from this resort, but probably were lurking around looking to rob the upper class and do other nefarious things…
I crossed my arms assessing them further. I could easily cast a fireball or curse them with blight… maybe just disintegrate them, I pondered. So many wonderful options in my arsenal. But I was on vacation, and I liked the resort we were at. I didn’t want to make a mess. I was still unfamiliar with my vampire senses too and felt awkward in my body.
“Listen, you should really step back to whatever hole you crawled out of. I am Lord Astarion’s consort, and if you’d like to keep your heads attached to your very… erm… putrid bodies… I suggest you leave right now before he notices you near me.” I stated matter of fact.
Pretty much everyone along the coast had heard about Astarion’s rise to success and the power he was beginning to obtain over Baldur’s Gate. The men laughed haughtily, and their breath made me want to gag. The vampirism had made my smell extremely sensitive, and I was still getting used to it back then.
Then, the man in front of me walked right up to me still chuckling to himself, his acrid breath strong enough that I wanted to throw up, it distracted me enough that I didn’t see his punch coming for my cheek and I fell to the ground. I didn’t expect him to be that stupid, but perhaps he hadn’t heard about Astarion yet. I should just take care of the situation myself at this point I realized as I began to get up off the cool grass. I went to cast blight on the man who had punched me but the two men behind me grabbed my arms pulling me to my feet, holding me in place, one covering my mouth with a cloth that seemed to not have ever been washed. One of them pulled my hair back and I let out a small gasp into the rag, as I gagged from the overwhelming smells. The acrid-punching-man walked up to me and had just begun to slowly pull down the straps of my dress as a large swath of bats and dark mist slammed into the ground in front of me making me squint from the force of the wind. The men holding my arms and hair, let go of me backing away in horror. I spat on the ground to get the taste of the rag out of my mouth. The two-restraining-men gaped and stared with wide eyes as Astarion had formed in the mist and walked right up to them, moving past me, and adeptly cut off their heads with his daggers in one definitive motion. Their heads lopped off to the side and their bodies collapsed, as I pulled up the straps to my dress.
“I told you.” I said quietly to the heads.
The warding bond of course – Astarion felt that man hit me, and probably felt my hair get tugged too. The punching man fell to the ground and grovelled on his knees as I walked up to Astarion, who was looking beautiful to me in his wrath and rage. His eyes darkened with hate for these people. Astarion stepped around me and picked the grovelling man up by the neck and then threw him back down with force. He coughed up blood and writhed in pain on the ground. Astarion turned his attention to me and wrapped his arm around my waist protectively. He was about to say something to me but instead inhaled sharply as he noticed a mark left on my cheek from the punch. Astarion grabbed my face turning my head back and forth assessing the damage. Even more fury filled his eyes.
“I was going to just drain him or kill him… but now I want to make him suffer for marking this face.” He let go of my chin and traced the edge of the mark on my face with his finger. He stared and ever so slightly shook his head, as he decided what to do with the punching man.
“Please, my Lord, please, have mercy on me! I didn’t know… I didn’t know she was yours… I… I just…” The man began coughing more as he grovelled on the patch of grass, his friend’s heads lifeless beside him.
A pity, if Astarion hadn’t removed their heads I could’ve raised them as my ghouls for a while. I really enjoyed doing that, especially to people who deserved it.
“Oh, this is mercy. You have no idea the things I would do to you if we were home. But I’m on vacation. You marked my consorts face.” He paused. “Do you not understand? You damaged something of mine. Her beautiful and pristine face is marked - so I will remove yours entirely.” Astarion grinned as he pushed his sinister looking dagger into the man’s left cheek – the same spot where mine was injured - and up under his skin. He slowly cut the skin away from the man’s face as he cried out in agony. The man tried to fight back so Astarion broke both his arms with his foot. “Shh now, we don’t want unwanted company.” He smiled, as he shoved the rag that was used on me, down the man’s throat to muffle his cries.
Needless to say the man was relieved of other… male parts while still alive too for some added flourish. Astarion loved his drama.
After Astarion was done with his fun, he picked me up and misted us back to the hotel room where we had some ridiculously dramatic sex while covered in the blood of those men. It was wonderful. I loved watching him be protective of me and then fuck me like he had to remind us both that I was all his. It just added to my pleasure.
I’m still sitting on Astarion’s lap as I reminisce about sweating in the humid summer air, wet with passion and want as he moved inside me from behind… Holding me close to his chest massaging my breasts, touching me down there and I leaned into him arching my back as he bit down on my neck hard. Thinking about it in the hall here, I can’t help but breathe deep through my nose as I stare at him while he talks, and I began feeling a bit wet between my legs. I lick my lips as I watch his mouth move as he continues talking with the merchant and delegating tasks to his higher-ranking servant spawn. I chew on my lower lip as I try to remember the last time, we had each other like that recently. It’s been a while it seems.
Astarion glances over at me and smirks as he continues to talk but gives me a small squeeze acknowledging my look. He pauses for a moment as the spawn write something in their notes.
“I can smell your hunger, and I don’t mean for blood.” He speaks into my ear and rubs his nose along my neck.
“Just thinking is all...” I touch his jaw and he turns back to his conversation. I pout to myself and clear my head, I’m so unfocused today. I drop my hands to my lap and stare ahead at the far wall. Picturing it burning.
I make the merchant uncomfortable with my presence on Astarion’s lap. His face is beat red and all I can think of is the blood rushing to his cheeks… I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten in a few days and I’m getting hungrier by the minute. It’s distracting me. But I’ll eat later. I don’t like the familiar blood. I want it fresh. I’ll have to hunt or find something. I haven’t had time lately with the party planning and taking care of the day-to-day tasks.
When Astarion finally dismisses the merchant, who seems more than eager to leave, I watch him walk out the door carefully. Just making sure he leaves with that delicious blood still inside him. I send a couple of my ghouls to escort him to the door. The merchant startles as they catch up to him, their wings making fleshy sounds as they stride alongside him, their eyes lifeless and their claws dragging on the floor here and there. Astarion keeps a tight leash on his spawn, but they are allowed here and there to indulge in the occasional human neck if they are careful and high enough ranked. But for the most part, we supply blood from familiars and some animals for them. The higher-ranking spawn are quite loyal to Astarion and do not dare to displease him, but I get concerned with humans in the palace and any of the baby spawn nearby. The spawn cleaning the corner of the hall watch the merchant too hungrily and I clear my throat loudly. They realize me watching them and move away from the man leaving.