UPDATED WEEKLY: Ishta Dawnstar was once a renowned Monster Hunter and Vampire Slayer from the enigmatic Xindite race in the Aglarond region of Faerûn. Her skills with sword and bow were as terrifying as her ferocity in battle, and Undead up and down...
This chapter is a re-upload of my initial 'one shot' that I wrote as an experiment in writing fan-fiction for the first time. For everyone who has already read it, not muchhaschanged except a bit of fine tuning and ret-conning to align it with the timeline of the preceding chapters. A big thank you to all my readers who leave comments, you guys make it all worthwhile xxx.
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Silent as a shadow, Astarion crept closer and closer to the sleeping Cleric, his breath catching in his throat with each careful step. His senses were heightened, fixated on the sound of her gentle breathing and the tantalizing scent of her body as he knelt beside her.
The nearby campfire cast flickering shadows across her serene face, and for a moment, he hesitated, guilt rising in him at the sight of her peaceful expression. Every nerve in his body tingled in anticipation as he considered what he was about to attempt.
His ears could clearly make out the slow, gentle beat of the half-elf's heart, and in his imagination, it called to him like a sweet, irresistible melody.
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Eyes closed, Astarion bared his sharp fangs and leaned in towards her neck, the thrill of defiance coursing through his veins, tinged with uncertainty. He felt rather than saw movement, and his eyes snapped open.
To his dismay, he found himself staring into the startled eyes of a now very awake Shadowheart. Leaning back, he murmured an uneasy, "Shit," his heart pounding with sudden fear.
In an instant, she rolled away from him and jumped up, pulling out a dagger from a hidden sheath, her expression hostile and ready for battle. Astarion scrambled to his feet, panic rising in his chest as he tried to explain himself. "No, no. It's not what it looks like, I swe-"
But before he could finish, Shadowheart lunged at him with the dagger aimed at his chest.
"Wait!" he yelped, throwing himself to one side. He heard the sound of tearing fabric as the dagger glanced off his hip, leaving behind a jagged rip in his shirt and a faint bead of red on his skin. Astarion's face paled - no mean feat for a Vampire - as he realized Shadowheart meant business.
Survival instincts kicking in, he rolled into a fighter's crouch and turned to face her... only to find himself flying backward a few seconds later as the enraged woman barrelled into him shoulder first.
He fell onto the ground with a thud, momentarily stunned and gasping for air. But before he could react, Shadowheart was on top of him once again with her dagger pointed at his heart.
Catching her wrists and halting the dagger's downward motion, he snarled up at her, fully baring his fangs with anger and hatred. His eyes, usually so calm and calculating, now burned with a wild, desperate fire.
