I could feel the sunlight against my skin, a warmth that enveloped my body whole, like a blanket on a chill winter's eve. I could feel my throat vibrate as I groaned, my limbs feeling heavy as I slowly started to stir awake.
What happened?
I opened my eyes, the light blinding me at first, causing me to lift a groggy hand to shield my face as I finally came to. I could see a canopy of trees overhead, hear the sound of birds chirping, and could smell the soil underneath my skin. Had I passed out in the forest? I tried to sit up, a sharp pain at my side making me hiss under my breath. Last night's memories flooded in like a broken dam. Me being badly wounded, Astarion finding me in a puddle of my own blood, our godforsaken deal. I groaned, reaching up and placing a gentle hand on my neck. I was sore and a bit woozy, but it was nothing I hadn't handled in the past.
As I pulled myself up, I noticed someone standing with their back turned to me, his arms extended outwards as he basked in the morning light. His skin was pale, like a fine porcelain, but with his bare back to me I could see an ungodly-like blemish. I narrowed my eyes over the scars carved on his back, recognizing the circular design almost instantly. It was a poem...written in infernal. I furrowed my brows slightly, reading the words etched into the man's skin.
Hoc inferius non iurare per ignis
Haec verba loquor
Et hoc mundo mutat.
My eyes widened slightly, my gaze flitting up to the white bushy curls atop the man's head as I heard him draw in a deep breath.
"Try not to fall in love, darling." He said over his shoulder, his red eyes meeting mine. I didn't flinch at the sound of his voice and my gaze did not waver, which only seemed to entertain Astarion even more. A faint smile danced upon his lips as he knelt down to retrieve his shirt from the ground. "Cat got your tongue, Oathbreaker?"
"Your scars." I motioned with my head, "How did you get them?" Astarion seemed surprised I had even spoken, much less asked a question. He cocked his eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest as he seemed to debate within himself whether or not he owed me an answer.
"It was a gift...from my old master." He answered anyway, pulling his shirt over his head, "He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas." A flicker of sympathy pulsed through me as I watched the pale elf tilt his head to the side in an attempt to read my expression. "It's supposed to be a poem, though I'm not sure what it even says." I nodded, not wanting to add anymore to the discussion, nor admit that I could read what it was sprawled across his back. That would only unearth more questions. I grunted, rising to my feet as I scooped my armor off the ground. Astarion watched me carefully as I fastened my chest piece in place. I could feel his gaze track my every move, those predatory orbs following my fingers as they looped through buckles and ties, as I brushed them through my hair and wiped the crust from my eyes.
"What?" I shot, slipping on my gauntlets and fixing my belt.
"I always thought you'd be some kind of ugly monster under all that armor." He admitted, his eyes raking me up and down as if he could see through the metal that stuck to my skin, "But you're actually quite beautiful."
'You're beautiful, (Y/N).'
My movements paused as I tried to ignore the feeling of air being knocked out of my chest. My lips pursed as I struggled to remain stoic, my feelings trembling slightly as I leaned down and picked up my helmet.
Keep it together, (y/n).
I scoffed at his compliment, glancing over at Astarion once more.
"They'll be wondering where we went." I muttered, "We best come up with a plan." Astarion grinned mischievously, practically prancing over and yanking my helmet out of my hands.
"Don't you worry about that." Astarion smiled, inspecting my helmet for a moment, "I've already come up with the perfect cover," His ruby eyes flitted up to mine, a devilish gleam to them. "Oathbreaker."
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
We walked in silence for only ten minutes before the forest line started to break. Well, it wasn't much of a silence as Astarion continually droned on about this and that, and about how great our new found deal would be for him. I mean, the man never stopped talking, only making me grimace that this was to be my new found partnership. As the treeline thinned, and Astarion had stopped talking for longer than two minutes, voices from our camp started to become audible to us.
"(Y/N)!" I heard a familiar warlock yell, "(Y/N)!"
Wyll.
I sighed heavily, this obviously catching Astarion's attention and provoking the lightest of chuckles from him.
"Come to think of it," Astarion began, "why is the Blade of Frontiers so smitten with the forbidden Oathbreaker?" I glared at the vampire by my side, through the slits of my helmet. His red eyes peered at me, our irises locking as we moved together, "Judging by those eyes, it's a sensitive topic." I tore my gaze away, looking ahead at the few trees that blocked our way. Astarion was only quiet for a few more seconds before speaking once more, "I told you about my scars, it's only fair." I grit my teeth. Fair? He speaks to me about 'fair'? I shouldn't have to play his damned game or answer his invading questions if anything were to be fair. If I had just been a bit more put together last night, I would have taken my blade to his throat and torn his miserable head from his puny body.
But here I am.
Playing a damned game to protect my secret.
To protect Wyll.
"We grew up together." I answered plainly, not wishing to delve further into my history with the warlock. Astarion clapped his hands together with a slight gasp.
"Ah..." He nodded, "That is going to make this so much more fun." I raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the pale elf as we walked.
"What is?"
"Oh." Astarion grinned as we approached our camp, "Because he's in love with you, of course."
Still not understanding, but not having any time to ask anymore questions as we were spotted by Karlach who gave us a friendly wave.
"There she is!" Karlch pointed out, calling Wyll over, "Emerging from the forest with..." She trailed off, "Astarion?"
"Astarion?" I heard Wyll repeat in disbelief as he pushed past Karlach to greet us at the edge of camp. Wyll looked at me and then at Astarion before turning back to me. "Are you okay (y/n)?" I looked at him through the slits of my helmet, my own eyes softening under his gaze. He reached forward, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I was worried." He looked a bit disheveled and sweaty, as if he had spent his earlier hours searching for me like a mad man rather than eating breakfast or washing his face. His dark eye combed over me as if I were the insane one, before snapping to Astarion in a very accusing manner.
"She was more than fine, I assure you." Astarion piped up beside me as he continued to walk towards his tent, he paused glancing over his shoulder with a devilish look, "I made sure of that last night." I felt my jaw tighten under his words as I suddenly understood what he meant by 'fun'. Wyll looked at me with worry, confusion, his head tilted to the side slightly.
"What's he mean by that?" Wyll asked, "(Y/n)?" I let out a soft breath, shrugging Wyll's hand off my shoulder as I headed inwards to camp.
"She's not a little girl anymore, Warlock." Astarion continued, turning to face Wyll once more, "Every woman has needs." The vampire bastard cooed, spreading two fingers across his lips, sticking his tongue out and wiggling it slightly.
For fucks sake.
This I swear by the fires below
I speak these words
And this changes the world.
