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Clytestra hated this had become a regular thing. Whatever Astarion liked to call it, feeding- no, that made her sound way too much like a simple blood bag. She didn't know what to call it. As grotesque as it was, a sickening use of a victims blood to satiate the murderers life, she was not very fond of being the victim of in this scenario.
Yet she couldn't help but see the way it improves his fighting in battle, a glorious sight of blood and teeth.
Which was one of the only reasons she hasn't sent a stake through the soft flesh of chest. No matter how much her mind wants her to. He's still mildly useful.
Even with the discomfort that came with it, the sick feeling of something being ripped out of her being all to familiar, and the drowsiness after always made her think she was seconds away from throwing up.
An arduous task that was worth it, she reminded herself, in the end, she won't have to do this for much longer if they get to moonrise soon. A task proving more and more difficult the more her company dragged their feet through the underdark. She can admit it's no holiday, but it was not as bad as they made it out to be. Clytestra finds all sorts of plants and ingredients for her new alchemy obsession to busy herself with so she doesn't commit any more impromptu murder in her sleep.
Instead she can create potions of all kinds to deliver her victims into all sorts of interesting demises.
She won't be able to do anything if Astarion keeps going at the rate he is now.
"Stop," She ordered with a pull of his hair, perhaps a bit to forceful than necessary but she would never forgive him if he almost kills her again, "Or I'll turn those fangs of yours into a necklace."
"Alright, alright." Astarion relents, pushing himself back to lean on her make shift alchemy set in her tent. He seems satisfied enough to keep talking rather than run off to wherever he goes for food. Maybe he's just looking for a second course, "God's you know this whole deal would be a lot easier if you just went to sleep before I come over."
Clytestra almost laughs, rubbing her hand over the wound on her neck. Even without the vampire leaning over her at night, she knows it would be practically impossible to even try to go to sleep recently. Her mind was all too content to surround her with thoughts of the slaughter of millions, "And give you the opportunity to keep going? I have to yank you off most of the time nowadays."
The feeling of blood on her hands and body was an elixir of irresistiblity, but she'd rather not be on the receiving end of that blood lust, especially when incapacitated.
"Now that is not my fault. Have you seen a single living thing here other than a mushroom for me to feed on. I'm being starved down here."
Rolling her eyes, Clytestra doesn't bother entertaining his theatrics, "You yourself said you survived on rats for years." She shudders at the thought, rats where good for taking out frustrations, not for food, "Now you have a full person who's your own meal almost every night, you are not dying."
Astarion's face shifts at the mention of him before the tadpole, then it quickly shifts into a more casual expression. It's almost enough for her to miss it. Even then, she decides to pay it no mind. Such feelings have no place in spaces such as this. If he has too much of a problem with it, he can take her out himself.
Although she doubted he'd do that, even if he wanted to. He's an opportunist, a lair who'd much rather stick with the most powerful ones good side than voice his complaints.
Even so, she had, in fact, noticed the change, the slower movements in battle, a pale-er completion to his skin. He was starting to seem more like the corpse like, half dead man she had met on the beach- but then it could be excused by the fact they'd just crashed, now there wasn't a good excuse for it. She'd have to see if she has any blood in store from her collection of battle trophies.
Can vampires have blood from already dead things?
"Has one of the mushrooms pissed in your bedroll?" Astarion asks, a smile on his face that's almost convincing, "Or is this about something else?"
"Hell's no," Clytestra scoffs, hands waving animatedly, "It's not like there's a tadpole in my brain, I can't remember half of my own name or life, all of the cures we've been looking for aren't working, and I keep waking up to pretty little corpses at my feet."
She did not expect sympathy, not from someone like Astarion, and she was right. The vampire chuckles, revealing the fangs he usually hides, and she tries not to get offended. It doesn't work.
Astarion lazily rests among her things, reminding her of a cat that lingers on your things as you try to work. A nuisance that needs to be thrown away, "Oh, you know that's not what we're talking about."
"It Isn't?"
Once again, Astarion smiles, "This is about Wyll."
"It is not," Clytestra refutes. She knows what this is about, and it is most definitely not about Wyll. This was about a vampire that was getting closer to killing her every night. He doesn't seem at all convinced, which does nothing to keep the anger and embarrassment clawing at her, "It's not."
"Oh, please," Astarion waves off, taking pleasure in her flailing, "You've been moping around like a kicked puppy every since he got mad at you for taking those tadpoles."
She does to deny it but then stops herself. Part of this was true. She was annoyed that Wyll hadn't approved of her decision, although that was not the reason she was moping like a kicked puppy - she wasn't even moping!
"I was going through a lot," She settles on, crossing her arms around her chest, "I just murdered someone in my sleep and was not handling it well. It was an impulsive decision I will not be making again."
Well, that's not completely true. If these tadpoles give her any more of the useful powers it has before, she may consider it. Only if the powers are very good.
Despite her brain telling her to stop, she continues, "You should inform Wyll of that, maybe he'd listen to you."
She didn't mean to make him mad at her. That was the last thing she wanted right after that night on the beach, god's she better not have ruined it all because of some stupid mental breakdown.
"There you go," Astarion announces, a bit too pleased with himself for her liking, "This is about Wyll. It's too obvious, darling."
If it wouldn't have made such a big mess and gotten Wyll more mad at her, she'd rip those fangs out of his mouth. Alas, that would be counterproductive to all of the work she's been doing in not killing things in cold blood. Instead, she points towards her company with a judgemental finger, "These are very big accusations for a man doing the exact same thing for a certain wayward-wizard in our company."
It does exactly what she wants it to, Astarion gaps as if he's been shot, a tension in his frame like a cat getting ready to strike, "Me? And Gale? It's just as I thought those tadpoles have rotted your brain."
"There are a great many things wrong with my brain, but this is not one of them," Clytestra smiles, glad to get the heat off of her and onto him, "I saw you two talking at the party and you spent the rest of the night sulking like a kicked puppy. Not me."
Astarion scoffs, all performance no truth, "That wizard came over to me. If anyone was sulking, it was him."
This time, Clytestra does laugh, "The camp isn't that big, and Shadowheart likes to gossip if you get her the right wine. You asked him to bed and got rejected- at least I got a kiss out of my night." On the hand but it still counts to her.
"How amazing a kiss!" Astarion starts with a roll of his eyes, "and now your relationship has evolved into being silently mad at each other."
"What do you suppose we do then?" Clytestra finds herself snapping, tail snapping side to side in annoyance.
"Now how the hells I am supposed to know that," Astarion throws his arms up in frustration, though it seems more targeted at himself than her, "My best move is usually just sex, but I don't think he's the type and I already tried that."
"How helpful."
"I'm trying here. Just apologies if you're so worried about it."
It takes all of her will to throw herself down onto her bedroll. Now was not the time to give up, "And what would I say? I'm really sorry for snorting tadpoles, I know it was wrong. Can I please rip all of your clothes off and find out if Mizora gave you those spikes everywhere?"
"Well, that would work on me," Astarion nods, "but I'm not sure if that'll work on Wyll."
Seeing as all of her hopes and dreams are crushed, Clytestra presses her hands over her face, "I'm not good at this. My passion is deprived of delightful killings and performances about said killings. How am I supposed to do this?"
There's a beat of silence. It seems Astarion's as lost for options as she is until he speaks, "People do always say to stick to what you're good at."
An idea sparks in Clytestra's mind. She slowly takes her hands off of her face, "You want me to kill someone for him? Like give him the head of one of his enemies for him to display? A token of my devotion to our partnership in the slaughter."
"Not exactly what I was trying to say, but you can't make it any worse- unless he kills you."
"He wouldn't dare."
"Alright, alright, you're hopelessly in love with the guy and all that," Astarion rolls his eyes, "Now what about my problem?"
Despite not caring or wanting in any way to help the vampire, it would be only fair to try and help him. Clytestra takes a moment to think on it before responding, "You're good at bleeding people out. Give him some of that."
"Part of a body?" Astarion gapes, still she sees a spike of amusement in his expression, "I doubt he'd have any use for that. At least Wyll would- display it or something? That sounds like something a monster hunter would do."
"Maybe he could cook it," She starts before cutting herself off. No, any cannibalism was strictly forbidden from now on. One bite of that Drow was enough.
Astarion doesn't seem as disturbed as the others would be. It's strangely comforting, "I'm the one that eats people darling. He eats magic."
"I'm aware of that."
It was a mistake trying to help him. She should've put a stake in his chest when she had the chance.
"Why don't you," She trails off, bringing a claw to pick at the skin on her lips, "…cook for him."
Seemingly dissatisfied by this answer, Astarion remained lazily thrown over her tent, "Not possible. Vampires can't taste food. If I tried anything, it'd at best taste like someone tried to chew on the bottom of your dress."
Ignoring the side comment on the muddy ruined bottom of her dress, Clytestra scoffed, "You don't have to do that. You've scouted the lands enough to know where some of the herbs might be, and you listen to Gale- don't try to deny it, you'd know which ones are edible. It'll be a good display of your interest. Then maybe he'd be more interested in romance."
"That's not…horrible advise," Astarion hums, finally sitting up straighter though his eyes are focused somewhere different, "and here I thought Wyll would be the one carrying the romance in your future relationship."
Clytestra gasp, with perhaps more drama, then the comment entailed, "I may not know all of it but I am by far not an amateur."
She may not remember most of her past, but things as important as sex. The very foundation of a relationship, trust and secret discovering. There is nothing she knows more about.
Unless it's murder, she knows a lot about that.
"But now I'm just focusing on getting him to speak to me again." She sighs, with a lot less dismay this time. At least she has some plan to use.
Finally, Astarion moves to stand up. Clytestra holds in her cry of relief when he turns around to smile that large all too practised smile, "Well, this was enlightening, have a good sleep darling. Don't let any wayward vampires bite."
"You're not going to thank me?" She asks before she can stop herself. It's not like she cares or wants him around more. Even if it is funny to see the way Astarion pauses momentarily confused before his face shifts into annoyance.
"Thank you. Happy?" He relents, rolling his eyes, "Where's my thank you? I gave you advice as well."
Lice-ridden cur.
With a smile that's more grimace than anything remotely friendly, "Thanks…for the advice."
"You're welcome, darling!"
No matter how much she hissed at him when he left. Astarion didn't piss her off as much as usual, actually giving her advice instead of slinking off to god's know where. In the back of her mind, she's thankful.
So, she spends the rest of the night clearing out the stake collection she had built and only has to fight off the urge three times while doing so.
Pretty productive night!