You hadn’t expected to feel this constant, gnawing hunger. This ache in the pit of your stomach, this voice in the back of your mind - a constant whisper, urging you to feed, to hunt, to take advantage of the new power you had obtained when you had been turned. Astarion told you it would get easier, that he would teach you how to control your urges. Lord Astarion Ancunin - your vampiric master. Your lover. And now…quickly becoming your everything.

Though your relationship had changed since his ascension and since he had given you the “gift of eternity,” he did provide for you. He lavished you with fine clothes, jewels, wine, extravagant gifts, and blissful goblets of steaming blood (you never asked his source - you didn’t want to know). Whatever your heart desired, he gave to you without question…except your freedom. And it made you feel isolated. Resentful. Antsy.

One night, when the ache of hunger became too much, and you grew tired of pacing in your chamber, you did something you’d never done before. You defied his rules. You snuck out.

You found yourself in the Elfsong Tavern, feeling giddy at the anonymity that came with the boisterousness of the scene - drinks were flowing, the bards were playing, patrons were laughing…and their blood was thrumming through their veins, singing to you from the pulse points of their necks. Yes, it would be easy enough to charm some poor fool into a secluded area…

You’re so absorbed in your scheme, you don’t notice the tavern doors open, don’t feel the gaze of familiar garnet eyes following your every move.

Just as your hand is about to caress the face of the unlucky patron you’re doing an exceptional job of manipulating, slender fingers wrap around your wrist, halting your movement. Astarion.

“Having fun without me, pet?”