Chapter Text
Lilah awakens to an empty camp except for Halsin who is in deep meditation with she assumes Silvanus, his hand on an oak, head bowed.
Replaying her conversation with Astarion last night, she makes a vow. Astarion will be free, and the two of them will destroy the Covens of the Sword Coast. They will be the last remaining, she doesn’t care who she has to hurt to protect him, to protect them, the Lilah who cared has died.
“Hello Lilah, the pale one went with the smelly ones. They will be back later. Throw the ball for me?” Scratch has dropped a well chewed red ball thick with saliva at her feet. “Have you eaten, Scratch?” she asks, tossing the ball in air, watching him jump for it.
Returning the ball, he tells her yes, he took food from the cleric, when she wasn’t looking. “She gives the best scritches behind my ears,” he sighs remembering the feeling. “I could eat Lilah; can we go hunt?”
“Yeah, let’s go Scratch. Bet we can find a rabbit to share.” The wolf and the dog disappear into the woods, in hopes of finding a meal.
For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, Lilah is relaxed. Scratch is snoring next to her, his feet running through a dream, when she hears them. Snout in the air, she sniffs them out. Powered ironvale, she turns her head towards the sound of leaves being crushed underfoot, and crouches down.
“Scratch go to camp, if the pale one is there warn him.” She barks quietly, then watches as the dog disappears deeper into the woods towards camp.
Making her way slowly towards the Gur, she notes, there is two of them. One is carrying a staff and smells of druidric magic, the other a bow. They are discussing finding Gandrel's body, not too far from the group's current camp. She hadn't realized more Gur were behind her and Gandrel and intends to correct her mistake. She sees the one holding a staff, he's got her silver muzzle on his belt. She realizes they are tracking her. She has to do something, to keep them away from the group, from Astarion.
Calling her magics she leaps from her hiding spot, startling the duo. Her maw is at the throat of the ranger, ripping it in one angry tear, the ranger stabs at her with a poisoned dagger, hitting its mark, before succumbing to his wound. The druid calls her magic trying to cast befriend animal on her, to charm her into submission. Lilah fights off the charm and howls her anger. "I'm NOT going back. You won't touch us," she growls.
"You will do what you are told, wolf. OBEY!" the charm is stronger this time, but Lilah shakes it off. "Dammit," the Gur suddenly shifts into her wildshape, and suddenly its wolf and bear and in a battle of survival.
The bear’s angry maw clamps down on Lilah’s shoulder, breaking her skin and forcing her back to her elven form, while the poison from the ranger’s dagger burns her blood. Deep gashes bleed extensively, making her left arm unusable. The druid sensing her advantage begins to leap forward with a roar, but Lilah pivots, casting ice knife, stopping the druid in her tracks as she slips and falls on the ice. Quickly shifting back into her wolf, Lilah stalks over to the bear, standing over the druid, “Tell Gandrel; Astarion and Lilah say hi,” as she rips out the druid’s throat, taking her time to chew through muscle and ligament.
The poison has done its job, Lilah collapses, covered in the blood of the Gur, sinew hanging from her mouth.
“Silvanus’s mercy, what has happened?” Halsin gasps, as he stumbles upon the macabre scene, Scratch in tow. Halsin walks over to the tree that stood sentinel to the gruesome act and relieves the scene. “Lilah what have you done, child. Nature weeps at your carnage.”
The old bear looks at the torn bodies before him and sets his back to digging a grave. “You’re awake. Good. Help me, lay them to rest.” He tells Lilah.
“No. They would have killed Astarion and me without a care. I got them first. They can rot. They deserve nothing.” She replies, healing herself of the poison still coursing through her. Rolling her shoulders, she feels the magic take hold.
“You are not thinking clearly. You are a druid! We restore and heal not this…”he gestures wildly at the death before them.
“I am fey, Lythari by birth, but life has made me more. I will not apologize to you or anyone for what I did here. I do not answer to Silvanus, Corellon, Meilikki or Sehanine Moonbow. NONE came to help me except Oberon. If more Gur come, more Gur will die. It is that simple. Do with that what you will.” Back in wolf form she heads back to camp to find it full. The group has returned.
“My dear, you look positively bloody. Care to share?” Astarion smirks as he takes her in, but a pit of worry gnaws at his stomach, as he strides over to her, his eyes raking over her form to find the wound.
“Gur. They won’t bother us; I made sure of it.” Lilah says, reaching for his hand, and squeezing it.
Astarion comes up short, pulling her towards him, and in a quiet growl, “Explain. What happened?”
“It’s simple, Scratch and I came across two Gur, I ambushed them before they could find us. They won’t be bothering us.” Lilah tells him, completely unbothered by the carnage she caused. The fear of using her magics and her wolf offensively gone completely.
“I thought Lythari were a peaceful people,” comes a booming voice. Halsin has returned, reproach written all over his face.
“There are always outliers. I’m done being the victim. I’ve had enough of that over the last century. I will remove any threats before they have a chance,” she tells him, “I will not apologize. That is my past, full stop.”
“My dear, aren’t you just full of surprises,” he says, lifting her chin and pressing his lips softly to hers, “it’s like I’ve never seen you before.”
The two walk to the river’s edge, and Lilah disrobes. “You’re still bleeding, Li, I can smell it from here. It’s fresh, let me get a potion,” he disappears only to return to find her waist deep in the river, doing her best to wash off the gore and viscera of the Gur.
“I think my tunic is salvageable, but it will need your needle expertise,” Lilah says, exiting the water.
Astarion’s eyes are drawn immediately to her mound, as he licks his lips, eyes narrowing. “You’re moon blood, Lilah. You have your moon blood.”
“Oh, that explains a lot. I'm in heat.” she laughs, throwing her head back, howling with joy, “Finally!”
He watches, amusement causing his lips to twitch into a smirk. She’s radiant, feral, mine, he thinks. Striding towards her, he lifts her into his arms, hands cupping her bottom, as she growls licking his lips, with quick, tentative strokes.
His response meets her tentativeness with ferocity. Kissing her deep, his tongue an invader, tasting every part of her mouth. Whining, she returns his kiss with a whimper, fingers tightening in his curls, her body trying to climb his torso.
Laying her down softly in the dewy grass, Astarion removes his pants with a practiced ease. “Lilah, I’m going to savor you, worship you, be a good girl, and moan for me,” he purrs, licking his way slowly down her body, until he reaches her oozing core. “Ready, darling?” he doesn’t wait for permission, doesn’t care to hear her answer, he follows his instincts and her body’s cues.
He's never drank moon blood, isn’t sure what to expect, tentatively he licks, and watches her legs begin to shake, not exactly what he was expecting, normally she tastes of honeysuckle, magic and the Feywild, but this is raw, natural, feral and he growls as he laps up her essence, and pushes two fingers deep within her quivering walls.
Unable to stop herself, she howls, causing him to stop, look up and laugh. “Maybe not that my dear, scream my name, call the gods, but let’s keep the camp away,” his fingers continue their ministration, while he resumes his feast. Stopping only to lick his fingers and give her chance to breath, her voice is a song of his name, her fingers pulling and twisting his curls while he brings her to climax. Licking his fingers clean of her moon blood, he moves back up her body.
“My turn please Astarion.” She pants his name, hands reaching for his cock. Pushing her down, and swatting her hands away, “NO,” he growls, slamming himself deep within sheathing himself fully.
Her back arches, as he holds her tightly. Eyes wide open, with feral need, she bites his shoulder, marking him as hers, as he bites her neck. They are one, the magic of the Feywild dances around them as they come to climax again, staring into each other’s eyes. In the air they hear the faint laughter of a woman as they ride the magic to completion again.
“That was, what was that…” he chuckles, unsure of what just happened, but his body feels more alive than it has in centuries, “my dear, you are magnificent.” He sighs happily, his face nuzzled in her neck, breathing her in.
Lilah rolls over to gaze at Astarion, her wolf shining through her eyes. “ASTARION!” she gasps, pushing herself up to her feet, “YOUR EYES, your eyes…they’re blue.” She’s backing up, panicking, hands raised to keep him at bay.
“What do you mean my dear? Did I take too much blood, you’re not making sense?” he steps towards her, hands reaching.
Shaking her head, laughing, “Astarion, we are mated, bonded. If I’m right my bite on your shoulder will scar, allowing you to shift as a Lythari elf. You claimed me as yours and the wolf agreed.”
“Are you saying that I’m a vampire spawn, Lythari? That’s ridiculous. I can’t be a part of the Seelie court, I’m dead, well undead.”
I don’t know what to tell him. I’ve been cut off from my people for so long, the old ways, are lost to me. Lilah is panicking, projecting her thoughts and Astarion hears them.
“Lilah, I can hear your thoughts. How is that possible? You’re not tadpoled are you?” Astarion’s sky blue eyes, search her own, as he grasps her hands.
It’s the bond, Astarion. We will always know what the other is thinking, across the bond. We will always be able to find each other. We can work on walling our thoughts later.
“Are my eyes forever blue like yours when you shift? You must teach me to shift!” He’s excitement is quelled by remembering that Cazador can call wolves, by the gods will this make him more susceptible to his former master’s machinations?
“No, they will return to red, when the wolf relaxes, like mine return to their original green when my wolf sleeps. I doubt Cazador will survive long enough to realize what you are now.”
“Promises my sweet, I like how you think. We will kill anything and anyone who tries to return us to the Palace. You are mine; no one will touch you. MINE” he growls as he grabs Lilah by the chin, and crushes her lips with his. He gazes at his marks on her throat and smiles. “You are mine.”
Her wolf whines in submission as she rubs her face against his, leaving her scent.
“We should wait a bit, until the wolf recedes, before we return to camp. The less they know the better,” he tells her.
“You know your friends, what can we expect from them? Wyll already warned me to stay away from you. As if I could,” she smiles coyly, rubbing her face on his knuckles.
“Gods, I’ve seen you do that behavior to Cazador, when he’s raging. It calmed him down,” he looks at her, eyes narrowed, trying to get the measure of her.
“Cazador was always hoping that I would be his mate. All the lords were. So, when I needed to, I would rub my scent on him to bring his attention off the spawn getting tortured and onto me. I don’t think he ever figured it out…” her voice falters, and her eyes un-focus. She is lost in a memory.
"What is it my dear? Where are you?" he kisses her knuckles, first the right hand then the left.
"I’m in the ballroom. Yousen just spilled a goblet of blood. He’s so mad, raging. He picked Yousen up by the head and swung him around until he flew across the room. And then he stalked towards him. I crawled over to him, whining, tail tucked. He picked me up by the scruff and I immediately began licking his lips in submission. I…he screamed for me to shift and raped me on Yousen’s broken body. I still can’t look Yousen in the eyes, and it’s been at least a decade," the memory replays for him, causing him to pull her closer.
He lifts her onto his lap, and rubs her back, as she slowly surfaces from the memory. "That fucker will never hurt you again. Perhaps I’ll rip his eyes out and feed them to him before I strike the killing the blow. He’ll never touch you again Lilah. Never." he whispers in her mind, "I remember that night, Dal had a hard time healing Yousen. Leon even shared his extras with the gnome."
Lilah’s breathing settles, as she cuddles into his chest. His strong arms, holding her tight to his chest. She allows herself to be comforted by the smell of rosemary and bergamot, his scent, with a whiff of aged brandy. He smells like home.
"I can get lost in your scent my dear. It makes me feral. How do you smell of honeysuckle and sunshine. Being with you, tasting your blood almost brings the sun to me. Though the tadpoles do a better job." He chuckles, nuzzling her neck with his nose.
"But alas we must get back before the others come looking for us. They probably think I ate you up." He purrs in her mind causing her shiver.
"Lead on my Alpha, my mate, my love," she sighs into his mind.