Chapter Text
Elias knew there was something wrong with that pale elf the second he saw him. Something eerily familiar making his head pound. Familiar, predatory, bloodthirsty. How he stepped lightly, tilted his head at sudden sounds, and especially how he followed critters with his gaze, as if planning how he could take them apart. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Elias only recognised it because it was the only person to strike something akin to fear in him. The man’s presence plucked on some primal string in his psyche, alerting him of danger. Competition. Rivalry. It made his headache worse.
It was frustrating to have his own vices pointed out by the man, he should certainly be better at hiding his urges. But I guess you learn a thing or two about a man by wrestling him to the ground, dagger to his neck and a leaving with a reminder why you shouldn’t give a tiefling the opportunity to head butt you. Elias didn’t need the worms to recognize a threat when he saw it. And neither did the pale elf. They walked away from the encounter with small cuts and a bruise shaped like Elias’ horn on a pale forehead.
Wonder how the bruise looked on its own? Would the skin preserve it? The man was very pretty himself. Elias wanted to paint his pale skin with blood, it would match those eyes so well. The hair, white and immaculate as freshly fallen snow would be so pretty with only some drops of blood. Beautiful. Magnificent. The thought made his head pound.
It wasn’t too much of a surprise to wake up with fangs to his throat, and condensing huff on his lips. Sloppy. 200 years and you can’t even end a man in his sleep? Or be bothered to move a boar from the road? Pathetic. He took pity on the man, offering some blood to alleviate the thirst. Gods if anyone could do the same for him. He wasn’t surprised by the stab of ice into his neck, what he was surprised by was how his body reacted to it. A flutter in his belly, heartbeat increasing, a gentle tingle in his fingers and toes… It was peaceful, silent. This could be useful.
It was a surprise to wake up with blood on his hands, a dead bard at his feet and joy in his veins. Sloppy. He couldn’t even hide a body without spilling guts everywhere? Pathetic. He knew the vampire thought the same, it was amusing. Amusingly pathetic. He should be better than this. Somewhere, sometime, Elias would’ve suffered immensely from his mistake. He didn’t know how. He just remembered it the same way skin remembers that fire is hot. Yet, he knew he wouldn’t hide. He made the decision standing over the tiefling’s corpse, remembering the look in her eyes as one of her own stabbed her to death. Elias made no effort to clean up, cover up or hide what he’d done. He wasn’t going to hide. The blood belonged on his hands. His companions deserved to know what they were travelling with, what it was capable of. A sick part of him, or maybe it was all of him, was far too proud of his work too hide it. He sat next to the corpse the rest of the night, savouring the sight, trying to fill the Urge so that it may still for a while. It was like filling a carafe to the brim and keep pouring, spilling wine onto the tablecloth in hope that the carafe would stay filled longer. Elias wondered how long he could hold out before his desperation forced him to lick the wine from the table.
He wasn’t ready for the fallout. Hells, they hated him.
The wizard with his pretty hair and magical tattoo didn’t even want him close. Understandable, if somewhat annoying. Elias felt an unfamiliar pain in his chest at the wizard’s words and fear as he asked him to keep his distance. The warlock with only one eye left to gouge out tried to figure out if Elias was a monster worth slaying, Elias didn’t stay put long enough to hear his conclusion. The half-elf raised her guard and never turned her back on him and the githyanki spat at his loss of control. Elias wondered if her insides were as alien as her outsides. The only one who didn’t shy away or grip their weapon tighter at the sight of him, was the vampire. Understandable, if yet unnerving. And something else. Sad? Elias didn’t understand the stab it gave in his heart, to see people you start to care about scowl and back in fear of you. He just… wasn’t like them. There was something so very, very wrong with him. Something that only the vampire spawn saw.
No, that wasn’t right.
It was something only Astarion saw.