Rotlaust Tre Fell

by Cinderminx

Summary:

Rotlaust Tre Fell (A rootless tree falls)

A Viking AU for my Tav, Tinuviel Lothbrok. Putting my two loves into one fic full of adventure and romance.

Chapter 1

 

The wood elves had ruled the forests and mountains of Faerun for many thousands of years, passing their lore and wealth  from generation to generation. The Lothbrok Clan had been raiding nearby territories for centuries, however none had expanded their reach as far as Bjorn and his daughter Tinuviel. Bjorn Lothbrok ruled the elves with strength and fairness, and taught his only daughter how to do the same. The fear of their wildshapes travelled far beyond their borders; none were brave enough to oppose them. However, the island of Ruathym was one northern territory yet to be claimed. A land of bogs and spirits; the isles of the Trackless Sea had not yet been tamed by the elves. Only legends of screaming banshees and bloodthirsty vampyres had reached the mainland. The challenge and promise of adventure was too alluring to let pass by.

 The winter months meant celebration and planning for the next raid. While their stores had enough to keep them through the icy winter, spring was a time of tithes and renewed vows. New ships were planned for the excursion to Ruathym. Blades and shields would keep the blacksmith smoke thick in the sky. The city of Icewind Dale would be bustling with renewed energy as they prepared and trained for the months to come. Tinuviel and her adopted sister Lae’zel led a strong band of shieldmaidens, they did not know fear and ran into battle as fiercely as any berserker. 

There was a century of prosperity for Bjorn and his people. He knew his daughter would continue that legacy long after he was gone. Though despite his victories a dark cloud hung over him. The Seer had foretold a premonition of misfortune and loss. The threads of fate spun by the Norns were tangled in a web of darkness. The path to Tinuviel’s future had a fork in the road should her heart be given to the wrong person. 

High in the snow capped mountains of Icewind Dale, the wind howled as though possessed by wolves. The river down below had frozen over and cracked like thunder as it settled. No flora nor fauna could be seen for leagues around the village. Despite the icy storm that raged outside, inside the great longhouse of the Lothbrok clan was alive with music and laughter. Fires roared as their smoke billowed from the crackling fireplace. Fat dripped from roasts and venison, and tantalized the many guests with rich and herby scents. Tables of fresh breads, hearty vegetables and stews were being prepared by a line of cooks. Dogs and children ran between the tables, their barks and laughter filling the already joyous atmosphere. Barrels of mead lined the great hall as the wood elves celebrated another successful season of raids. 

Their leader, Bjorn, sat like a mountain at the head of the largest table, his throne made of antlers and bones lashed together with leather. Firelight lapped at his thick muscular arms showcasing scars from battles long forgotten. The giant wood elf’s hearty laughter echoed through the rafters as he answered the man nearest to him. 

“Ha! Erick, I shall answer you as I have answered every other suitor: you shall marry my Tinuviel when you can best her in combat.” Bjorn gave a knowing wink to his daughter, who was seated to his right. Considering the conversation done, Bjorn ripped a chunk of bread with his teeth and continued eating. 

“Bjorn don’t be ridiculous, she’s already old-” Erick interjected. 

Bjorn stood at his full height and rested his thick calloused hands on the hilt of his sword. “Well then, it should be easy for you to win.” 

Tinuviel giggled as she watched her father loom over Erick. The young elf sat with her feet up on her chair, completely at ease knowing she was about to fight. She stretched her lanky arms above her head and yawned in mock boredom. 

Tinuviel was the only child of Bjorn Lothbrok and next in line to lead their clan. She was sought after by those wanting power, for there was no other shieldmaiden who matched her in battle. Her astounding beauty was unparalleled. The tall slender wood elf had lightly freckled skin the color of sage and waves of bright red hair that fell around her face. Her piercing blue eyes could strike fear into any man or beast. Her laughter was mirthful as a rippling stream. And she had absolutely no interest in marriage. 

Tinuviel drained her mug and wiped away the foam from her ale with the back of her hand. She tossed the wooden tankard and it landed with a clang on the stone floor. Tinuviel twisted her hair up between slender fingers and grabbed a knife from the table. She stuck the blade between her cherry locks in an attempt to hold it in place. The elf leaned over the man as he sat mouth agape and whispered into his ear. 

“You think you can claim me?” She said with a smirk. 

“You'll be bedded tonight Tinuviel. I'll make a woman of you!” The man sneered and grabbed between his legs as he said it. 

Tinuviel let out a guttural laugh that echoed through the hall, bringing the guest's attention to her. Her sapphirine eyes shimmered with an unnatural golden hue, no longer human but predatory. She slowly took her dagger from a strap on her thigh turning it in her hand to reflect the firelight. The waves of her crimson hair, thick and untamed, almost bristled like a beast as she taunted Erick. 

“Come and take me then,” she growled. 

Erick stood quickly, knocking his chair over in the process. He stood a full head and shoulders taller than Tinuviel, his long beard split into two braids. He stood in front of her and  ripped his tunic off, letting out a battle cry. His skin glistened in the firelight, his muscular chest was covered in a thick forest of blonde hair. He had a small hatchet tied to his waist that he now tossed between his hands. 

Tinuviel rolled her eyes, utterly unimpressed by her opponent. She snarled back at him. They walked around each other as the crowd began to stomp their feet and chant. Laezel stood on her chair, beating her chest with her fist as she howled. The room vibrated around them as the pair sized each other up. Erick was the first to make his move and lunged toward Tinuviel, his boots thudding across the stone floor. 

The young wood elf swiftly rolled out of his way. She placed her dagger between her teeth and took advantage of being behind her opponent. She leaped up and wrapped her arms around his throat, using her whole body to pull him to the floor.  Tinuviel wrapped her legs around her opponent's waist as she pulled her arm beneath his chin. Erick’s face once drained of color slowly turned a dark shade of crimson as he gasped for breath. 

“I am a woman,” she growled as she tightened her grasp. 

“Yes Tinny! Finish him!” Lae’zel shouted over the cacophony of cheers and cries of excitement. 

The man swung his head back and hit her nose with a resounding crack, and she lost her grip. Tinuviel’s eyes watered as she stood up and tightened her hold on her dagger. As she spit blood onto the floor, Tinuviel’s face curled into a crazed smile. Her teeth were stained crimson. Tinuviel paced around the man; a wolf cornering her prey. He swiped at her with his hatchet, one hit scraping her shoulder. 

“Is that it, Erick? This is what a man can do?” She let her eyes meet Lae’zel’s, who was bent over with laughter. 

The man lunged at her again, but this time she didn't move. She planted her feet and held her ground. Tinuviel’s dagger found its sheath in her opponent's gut, a low moan escaping from his lips as he sank to the floor. 

The crowd erupted as Tinuviel snapped her nose into place and sat down next to her father. Bjorn beamed with pride, however, she noticed a brief sadness in his eyes. She turned to her companion seated on the other side of her and laughed. “More ale Lae’zel?” 

Her most trusted friend was a githyanki woman who had stowed away on one of her father's ships when she was a child. The two were raised as siblings but couldn't be more different from one another. Lae’zel smiled and held out her mug as she banged the table with her fist. 

“Tskva! You must have enough suitors for an army now sister. These men are weak, none deserve you. We are blessed father can see that.” 

“We are both blessed, Lae’zel. We shall sail the open seas until Odin calls us home.” Tinuviel crashed her mug into Lae’zel’s and the pair finished their drinks, slamming the empty mugs onto the table. 

“Battle Tears and foamy beers” they toasted. 

The bards began a lively tune as another round of meat pies and foodstuffs arrived from the kitchens. Bjorn in his drunkenness pulled Tinuviel from her chair, his joy just as intoxicating as the ale they drank. 

“A dance daughter! Let's show these fools how it's done!” 

Tinuviel twirled around her father, both laughing and falling over their own feet. They danced to the beat of their own drum, as they always had. The crowd around them clapped along as more ale was distributed among their guests. The young elf maiden thought life could never get any better. 

The large oak doors burst open as the snow storm raged outside. Lightning flashed across the darkened sky. The mirth of the party withered to silence as the Seer approached Bjorn, his staff clanking on the stone floor the only sound left echoing through the longhouse. 

“A word, my liege,” The hooded man spoke in a hushed tone. “Alone.” 

A worried look flashed across her father's face. Tinuviel nodded to Laezel for them to follow. The pair knew every corner of the halls and had been listening in for years. 

“Please! Continue the celebrations!” Bjorn waved to the bards and the music started up again. 

Tinuviel and Laezel climbed into the rafters above her father’s quarters and waited patiently for the two men to enter. Bjorn held the door for the Seer and gestured inside, the lock clicking behind them. 

“What did you find, Gale?” Bjorn's voice had become raspy, the closest he could ever get to a whisper. 

“It is imperative that Tinuviel not accompany you on the forthcoming raid. This is a matter of life and death, I have beheld it. The Norns have another path for her, Bjorn.” Gale lowered his hood, his brown eyes wrinkled with worry. 

“We travel to the Emerald Isles in summer, this is a historic moment for my name. For hers! If she will not marry then the men must fear and respect her as their leader. As the mother of clans.” Bjorn sighed and sat down, his face in his hands. 

“What will you have me do?” Bjorn whispered. 

“There exists, buried deep within the soil and air of that accursed land, an ancient and ineffable magick. A force so profoundly malevolent and untamable that even to speak of it invites peril. It is a darkness not born of mortal malice, but of something older, ancient. I confess with great reluctance that my incantations and warding spells may prove ineffective against such foes.” As Gale spoke the candles in the room flickered out. 

Tinuviel and Laezel exchanged looks. What foe could  possibly exist that would keep them here? Lae'Zel shook her head in disapproval and muttered under her breath. 

Tinuviel shushed her and mouthed “We are going.” 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Tinuviel’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran through the thick forest. She quickly leaped over fallen trunks and stones as gracefully as any deer. As she ran, she could feel her bright red locks fall down around her face and curl in the perspiration dripping down her neck. The young wood elf stopped short at the edge of the trees, realizing the cover of their branches was at an end. A vast field of golden wheat lay before her swaying in the spring breeze. 

 

Sneaking out into the field, she paused as a shadow covered her in darkness. The unmistakable roar of a red dragon shook the ground beneath her feet as she looked up towards the sky. She watched the beast effortlessly barrel roll through the clouds. As it swooped down towards her, she spotted her sister Lae’Zel tightening her grip on the reins. Her dragon, Eshcaz, spread his great wings and shook the earth with another roar. The race was on. 

 

Tinuviel twisted her arms in front of her body, her fingers contorting as she sank onto all fours on the ground. In a flash, a swirl of feathers surrounded her as she transformed into an owlbear. Her piercing shriek echoed into the sky as she took off running into the waves of grain. Her mighty paws beat against the earth as a war drum as she bounded across the field. Tinuviel could see the ever-looming shadow of the dragon to her right as she kept pace. As the wind ran through her feathers, she felt connected to the earth; her own wild spirit sang in its current shape. 

 

The wheat field thinned out after a league as the pair raced closer to the village. Tinuviel took a sharp left turn and ran back towards the forest, hoping to lose Lae’Zel and her fiery steed. The line of trees was in sight when suddenly the dragon landed directly in front of her path. The force of its landing almost knocked Tinuviel over. She skidded to a halt and snarled at her opponent, the feathers along her back standing on end. The dragon opened its huge jagged mouth revealing a glowing flame at the back of its throat. 

 

“Yield!” Lae’Zel shouted. 

 

Tinuviel stuck her tongue out of her beaked mouth and stood up tall on her hind legs. She screeched at the dragon and turned to run back towards the fields. She knew her Githyanki sister would be cursing her name as she followed in pursuit. Tinuviel zig-zagged across the field, her heart thumping in her chest as her pace quickened. As the owlbear ran, she felt heat on her tailfeathers.  Before she knew it, the dragon had picked her up in its mighty claws. 

 

Cursing under her breath and not ready to give in, Tinuviel closed her eyes and concentrated. Her feathers, once white, began to glow red like embers on a fire. In a swirl of light and color, Tinuviel’s form began to change shape once again. The massive owlbear shrank down within the dragon's grip. In its place, sprang a tiny sparrow who fluttered out of the giant claws with ease. The bright red bird twittered as she flew around Lae’Zel’s head and zipped away. 

 

By the time Tinuviel and Lae’Zel  returned, the air was thick with the mingled scents of woodsmoke and baking bread. Back at the longhouse, preparations had begun for the Ostara Festival to welcome spring. Flowers and banners were being strung all over the longhouse. The fires roared in the kitchens as the evening's feast was prepared. The long frozen winter had finally melted away and it was a time for renewal. And the long awaited raid west. 

 

Tinuviel and Lae’Zel had already been told they were staying behind this season, and they had spent the entire winter formulating a plan on how to ignore that command. Tinuviel was in her quarters studying her maps, taking count of the stores she and Lae’zel had hidden away all winter long. The door burst open, and Lae’Zel slipped inside with a triumphant grin.

 

“Tinny, come. I have found how we shall navigate on our own.” Lae’Zel started to unwrap a small bundle. “A sunstone. We will be able to track the sun across the skies. We can sail safely.” Lae’Zel was beaming. 

 

Tinuviel took the crystalline stone from her sister and held it above her, catching the sunlight from the window. The beam of light shone across her sister’s determined face, igniting the gold flecks in her eyes. The wood elf turned and handed the stone back with a sigh. 

 

“We still don’t have a ship, sister. Harald backed out.” Tinuviel rubbed her face in frustration. 

 

“Then we stow away on Father’s longship.” Lae’Zel’s eyes glinted with the same restless fire Tinuviel had felt in the wheat field. “We take our chances.”

 

Tinuviel walked back to her table covered in maps and poured two mugs of mead. Handing one to Lae”Zel she smiled. 

 

“Battle Tears,”she said. 

 

“And foamy beers.” Lae’Zel answered as they clinked their tankards together. 

 

---

 

After three nights at sea, fog rolled in and swallowed up the stars. Whispers between the crew filled the air with talk of bad omens. The wind grew stronger as heavy droplets began to fall from the dark clouds above. 

 

Lightning cracked across the sky shattering the heavens into a thousand pieces. The longship was thrown from wave to wave, landing with a crash after every swell. The rowers had long abandoned their oars and now clung to anything they could find still attached to the ship. Thunder growled as though the sky above was inhabited by beasts. The wooden planks of the longship creaked with strain as it managed to stay afloat. 

 

Bjorn held strong to the centre mast as he cut the sails free, the fabric swirling away in the torrential wind like bats across a haunted sky. A stray length of rope cracked like a whip across his shoulders and he let out a howl. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip to the mast. His rain soaked tunic clung to his rippling muscles as he shouted into the storm. 

 

“Is that all you've got, Njord?” His fury boomed over the storm.” You will not take me this night!” He roared at the surrounding waves, his face set in a defiant grin. 

 

As if in response a flash of light cracked the mast in two. Splintering wood shrieked over the thunder as the mast split down the middle. The shockwave knocked Tinuviel and Lae’Zel to their knees. Tinuviel lifted her head just in time to see her father wrenched from the mast, his massive frame flung into the writhing black sea.

 

“Papa!” Tinuviel’s scream ripped from her throat as she watched him disappear into the waves. 

 

The wood elf shed her coat and placed her dagger between her teeth as she readied herself to go after Bjorn. Lae’Zel grabbed her shoulder tightly and pulled her back. 

 

“No use losing you too! Keep your head!” She shouted over the storm. 

 

A wave crashed over the side of the ship, covering the two women in a shower of icy seawater. They watched as two more crew members fell overboard and into the watery chasm below. As another swell began, the longship was tipped almost vertically in the water. Tinuviel resheathed her dagger as the two climbed towards the head of the ship. The deck was slick with seawater and littered with tangles of rope as they gripped the gunwale. Tinuviel and Lae’Zel reached the prow and clung to the dragon head as they waited for the wave to land. The longship fell from the great height of the swell, knocking them overboard and into darkness. 

 

Tinuviel woke to a scorching white glare. Saltwater burned in her nose and throat as she coughed up the sea from her lungs. Sand grated against the inside of her mouth, the taste of salt and copper stubborn on her tongue. With each beat of her heart a pounding echoed in her skull. Laying back down with a thud, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the bright afternoon light. The sun glared directly above her, searing her chapped lips and aching limbs. Vignettes of the night before flashed across her mind and she remembered watching in horror as her father fell into the sea.

 

The wood elf slowly sat up and squinted one eye open. The crash of waves was closer now, the air thick with brine and the sweet rot of kelp. The rocky beach was littered with splintered wood and broken oars. The tide lapped at the swollen corpse of a young woman entangled in seaweed. Tinuviel’s shoulders slumped as she whispered a silent prayer. 

 

Opening both of her eyes, the wood elf looked down at her own body. Her leather trousers were shredded on one leg and completely missing on the other. Her lanky arms were covered in cuts and bruises and caked in wet sand. Her dagger had luckily stayed strapped to her waist in the storm. 

 

Standing up slowly, she looked around. She tried to get her bearings but this place was completely foreign to her. To the north, she could make out a flock of seagulls circling the shore, their cries carried on the wind. Tinuviel hoped to find another survivor. She hoped to find Lae’Zel. Her body ached with every step, yet Tinuviel walked with determination along the rocky beach. 

 

After what felt like hours of walking along the shore, Tinuviel’s heart sank as she fell to her knees. Broken barrels of rations and ale littered the sand along with other members of her father’s crew. Hot tears streamed down her face as she imagined her family lost forever to the sea. Her wild screams echoed from her chest until she collapsed from the effort. She lay in the sand and watched the sun sink beyond the horizon. 

 

“Odin, take me too,” she whispered. Tinuviel closed her eyes and waited for the gods to answer her. 

 

The waves crashed onto the shore as night fell. A blanket of stars appeared across the velvet sky. Tinuviel lay in the sand recounting nights her father had taught her the constellations and how to find her way home using the stars. Her body ached as she lay on the cold ground and her mind faded into a restless sleep. 

 

The crack of a twig broke her out of her reverie and she sat up with a start. Her ears twitched at the sound as she looked towards the trees lining the beach. Tinuviel grabbed her dagger and crawled quietly towards the trees. Save the waves, no other sounds could be heard as the night became eerily silent. Tinuviel’s skin prickled as she peered into the trees, a feeling of foreboding washed over her. She took a few steps closer, trying to get a sense of what lay ahead in this foreign land. In the darkness she could just make out a pair of red glowing eyes. 

Chapter 3

 

 

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the gaudy paintings and twisted grotesques that decorated the palace. Thunder rattled the window panes as if the gods themselves shook the palace walls.  The rain cascaded down the windows flooding the tangled  thorny vines of the gardens below. The stone halls were ice cold and silent as a graveyard. Not a single flame broke the darkness save one. Huddled under his blanket, a pale elf held a flickering flame between his fingers as he read from a leather bound book. A smile fluttered across his lips as he turned the page, an illustration of a man pushing a finely dressed maiden on a tree swing. The smile lingered, warm and private, as though the scene belonged to a world far removed from the cold stone and shadow pressing in around him.

 

A loud knock at his chamber door startled Astarion. He slid the book between his mattress and the wall and called out in response. 

 

“Yes, I’m up.” He grumbled. He was not ready for another night of hunting in the pouring rain. 

 

Much to his annoyance, his brother Leon burst into the room. “A ship wreck has washed up on the eastern shore. Master wants us to check it out.” 

 

“Oh goody.” Astarion rolled his eyes as he got out of bed and shuffled over to the window. A flash of lightning illuminated his alabaster skin as he watched the storm. “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

 

Leon left without closing the door behind him which further annoyed Astarion. He lazily walked back to close the door as he combed his fingers through his curly hair. Opening an old oaken wardrobe, he selected his favorite tunic. A white shirt with ruffles on the collar, a leather cord lacing up the front. Shoving his feet into his boots, he made his way downstairs. 

 

Astarion creaked open the door to the spawn’s dining hall, a dingy room that stank of mildew and rotten meat. Calling it a dining hall was a joke, all there was inside the small room was a wooden table and a bucket to catch rain water. His brothers and sisters were arguing over rats and other small forest creatures to eat when he entered. 

 

“So, where are we going?” He asked the others. 

 

“The eastern beach, Master’s wolves saw a ship crash there two days ago.” Dalyria answered. 

 

“Better get this over with then. C’mon Dal.” Astarion sighed. 

 

“Actually, I was going to go with Leon this time.” She replied as she twirled up her hair. 

 

“I prefer hunting alone anyway. Ta.” Astarion grabbed a coil of rope hanging by the door and headed towards the beach. 

 

The trek through the woods to the shore was about an hour's walk on a good day. Thick droplets of water dripped onto the vampire's hair as he trudged through the mud and mulch of the forest. His stomach ached with hunger, but the storm seemed to have scared off any hope of catching a meal. Hours later, he emerged from the trees and onto an empty stretch of sandy beach. He looked up and down the coast and saw no sign of any life, save for an occasional crab. With a sigh, he walked back under the cover of the forest and continued down the coast. 

The rain cleared as Astarion approached the beach again,  his eyes catching a glimpse of crimson hair fanned out in perfect swirls. He took another cautious step forward. His gaze fell upon a woman with soft sage colored skin lightly dotted with freckles. Her features were soft and feminine, pink lips pouted as she slept. Her pointed ears were studded with piercings and a thick black tattoo lined her chin. Astarion’s gaze followed her slender neck and he watched as her breasts rose and fell with every breath. Distracted by her beauty, he took a few more steps closer. His foot snapped a twig with a deafening crack . Two icy blue eyes met his as the woman sat straight up. Astarion froze and waited for this fey creature to make her next move. 

 

He crouched low to the ground like a beast hunting his prey as he silently watched her get closer. The young woman was feet away, her knuckles white around her dagger. Astarion could hear her pulse beating in his ears, it was like nothing he had ever heard before, almost melodic. He furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out who - or what he was looking at. 

 

I wonder why her skin is that mossy green? And that hair! It is a halo of flames. I have seen plenty of elves crash land here but she feels different. Maybe the fey are real like in the stories. Better get her back to the castle. 

The woman stood up straight as she peered into the woods and he decided now was the time to strike. Astarion lunged, gripping her by the waist as they tumbled backwards into the sand. As he landed on top of her with a thud, his hand gripped the woman’s arm holding the dagger. Despite her lanky appearance, she was a force to be reckoned with. She writhed underneath him and managed to wrap her legs around his hips, flipping herself on top of him. He held tight to her wrists as she stabbed the blade towards his chest. Her feral growls sent a chill through him as he struggled to keep her at bay. The vampire pinched her wrists, causing her to drop her dagger, the blade sticking into the sand next to his head. The woman' s arms were like wild snakes in his grasp, and the two continued to struggle to overpower the other. Astarion noticed a particularly dark bruise on her bicep and grabbed, getting a yelp from his opponent. Flipping her onto her back once more he stiffened his broad shoulders and locked her in place beneath him. 

 

“Get the fuck off me!” The woman spat in his face. 

 

“Where did you come from, fey?” Astarion demanded. He wanted to wipe the gob of spit sliding down his face with every fiber of his being but did not dare let go of her. 

 

“I came from your nightmares, you bastard.” The green woman replied as she continued to writhe in his grasp. 

 

“ Tsk, you might as well save your strength. The sooner you realize your situation, the better for both of us.” He gave her a toothy grin, revealing his fangs. 

 

She froze and finally looked at him, her pupils almost eclipsing the blue of her irises. His skin felt hot as she stared into his crimson eyes and snuck a peak at his muscular chest. Astarion could feel her heartbeat slow down and hear her breath become more controlled. 

 

“And what is my situation? You’re going to kill me or do you just play with your food?” She raised one eyebrow as she spoke and he had the strangest feeling she was not afraid of him. 

 

“I am going to kill you, naturally.” Astarion replied indignantly. “But not just yet. I prefer my food to be washed first.” 

 

Uncoiling the rope he had strung over his shoulder he wrapped it a few turns around her wrists and knotted it tightly. He then proceeded to toss her over his shoulder and head back into the woods. He walked silently through the trees as the rain started to fall again. Fog rolled in giving the forest a more haunted appearance. 

 

“Do you have a name, fey? I’m-”Astarion was cut off before he could finish. 

 

“I really don’t care what your name is. How long do you plan on carrying me like a sack of flour?” She asked. 

 

“Don’t tell me you’re bored of the view already, darling.” Astarion replied. 

 

The woman swung herself forward and bit him full force on the ass. With a yelp, the vampire dropped her and checked himself for blood. Glaring over at her, her red locks were now tangled with leaves giving her a wild appearance. In the darkness of the forest he could just make out her shoulders shaking slightly. 

 

“Are you- are you laughing?” The vampire crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. 

 

“You- you are- the worst kidnapper.” She said through gasps of laughter. 

 

Astarion narrowed his red eyes as he glared at his captive. After two hundred years of stalking this island and hunting sailors who crashed on its shores, not a single one had laughed  at him. This woman must be touched by the gods. 

 

“I am perfectly capable, thank you. ” He said as he knelt down in front of her. Without thinking he brushed her tangled hair away from her face. The woman bit down on his finger with a sickening crunch. 

 

“OW!” Astarion pulled his hand back and with his free hand punched. The wild woman slumped unconscious into his lap. 

 

“There, now it's safe to be around you.” He grumbled as he inspected his injured finger. Lifting her over his shoulder once again, he headed back to the castle. 

 

---

 

Tinuviel woke up in a dark stone room, she could hear water dripping as a cold draft sent a chill through her. She sat up slowly and clutched the side of her head. 

 

That bastard actually got the better of me…

 

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made out a head of silver hair and the same glowing red eyes she had seen on the beach. 

 

“Ugh, it's you.” She grumbled. 

 

“Astarion.” He said. 

 

“What do you want with me, Astarion ?” Tinuviel replied. 

 

“Me? Oh I don’t want anything to do with you. Or the others. My master is probably going to drain your blood. Kill you slowly and painfully. He likes to play with his food.” Astarion inspected his nails as if unbothered. 

 

Tinuviel’s ears perked up. “Others? What others?” 

 

“Oh now you want to be friendly. No, no, no my dear.” He tutted.

 

“You said ‘your master’, are you a prisoner here too? We can both escape.” Tinuviel jumped up to face Astarion through the bars of her cell. “Are there more who look like me?” 

 

The wood elf watched her captor furrow his brow in thought. He started pacing the floor, muttering to himself as he rubbed his chin. Astarion stopped and looked into her eyes and she could see he was conflicted. 

 

“I- no it’s impossible. You and your sharp teeth are going to die here.” He growled the last words and stormed out of the room. 

 

“Ugh, men are never any help at all.” Tinuviel muttered under her breath. 

 

She waited a few moments to ensure no one was around, the constant drips of water were the only sound in her cell. She crouched down on all fours and in a flash, a black cat with bright blue eyes sat in her place. Tinuviel’s sleek feline body slipped through the bars of her prison and peeked into the hallway. Torches lined the stone walls, their dim light flickering in the drafty castle. Silently she walked down the halls and found another holding cell. Sitting in the far corner was a githyanki, their head resting on their knees. Tinuviel mewed to get the prisoner’s attention. 

 

“Run away little cat, nothing good is in this place.” A familiar voice answered. 

 

In her excitement, she bounded through the bars, her wild shape exploding away from her. Breathless, Tinuviel flung herself onto her sister, Lae’Zel. 

 

“By the gods! I thought I lost you!” She cried. 

 

“My dearest Tinny, you can escape this place. Leave me, get off this cursed island.” Her friend replied as she hugged her back tightly. 

 

“I am going to get us both out of here. Are you hurt?” Tinuviel asked. 

 

“No, I am fine. What is your plan?” 

 

“I think I can convince one of our captors to help us. They are holding us here for his master. Some kind of demon or creature I imagine.” Tinuviel replied. 

 

“I overheard someone refer to ‘the big one’. I believe father is here.” Lae’Zel embraced Tinny once more. “You must hurry.” 

 

Tinuviel returned to her wild shape and scurried out of the prison. Following the line of torches up a flight of stairs, she was surprised that the main rooms of the castle appeared empty. A bright beam of light cast across the hallway, illuminating an intricately patterned rug. Specks of dust danced in the sunbeam as she considered which way to go next. Tinuviel caught a brief hint of rosemary and leapt towards the scent. Down another dark corridor, a door was slightly ajar and the cat could just make out a flicker of candlelight. Nudging the door open further with her head, she looked up to see the same white curls. She leaped up on the bed and climbed onto Astarion’s chest. As she watched him sleep, she noticed his chiseled jawline and how perfectly his hair framed his face. She reached out with her paw and gently tapped his cheek. Astarion’s crimson eyes fluttered open and met her azure stare. 

 

“What in the hells?” He sat up, causing her to lose her balance and leap to the floor. 

 

Tinuviel returned to her elven form, a bright flash made Astarion wince before his gaze fell on the druid’s slim body. She noticed his stare as he tried to correct himself with a furrowed brow. 

 

“You are going to help me.” Tinuviel stated, her arms crossed over her chest. 

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of The Threads of Fate