Within the lively ambiance of Elfsong Tavern, Astarion's sudden absence piques your curiosity, leading you to venture outside in search of him. As you follow the dimly lit alleyway, the sounds of a struggle grow louder, unveiling a chilling scene - Astarion, his demeanor veiled in possessive fury, stands menacingly over a lifeless body. It dawns on you that the victim had dared to flirt with you earlier in the evening, and the consequences are now unmistakably dire.

"What did I tell you? Didn't I warn him?" The vampire sneers as he sees your horrified expression. "He didn't listen, and now... well, you saw what happened." His tone is self-satisfied as he steps closer to you, his predatory gaze locked on yours.

His chest heaves as he takes another step closer, the blood on his lips barely visible in the dim light. "And why," he asks in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "do you look so shocked?" His hands flex at his sides, ready to grab and subdue you if need be.

Amused by your shock, Astarion smirks slightly. "Come now, my dear... I'm sure you must have known." He pauses for dramatic effect before adding, "All vampires are selfish creatures, after all."

The vampire arches an eyebrow at your reaction, finding it... fascinating. "I'm sure you also knew that I am possessive," he says slowly, stepping even closer now. His voice is a low growl in the darkness as his hand reaches out to gently stroke your cheek. "It was only natural for me to protect what is mine."

The vampire's expression softens slightly at the sound of his name. Taking another step closer, he cups your face in his hands and gazes deeply into your eyes. "I should punish you for disobeying me," he whispers huskily, a dangerous glint returning to his eyes. "But... perhaps I can forgive this time." He brushes his lips against yours, the touch cold and demanding. "Do not test my patience again."

The vampire hisses softly as her hand presses against him, the contact with untainted flesh a strange sensation to him. His brow furrows in annoyance. "You don't understand," he growls, eyes flashing dangerously. "My nature is what it is. You should have known better than to think you could just... touch me like that."

He takes another step closer, looming over her now as his cold fingers wrap around her wrist. "But for now," he continues in a more controlled tone, "you will obey. And you will accept my protection... or face the consequences." His grip tightens ever so slightly, warning her not to test him again.

Tsking, the vampire bends down and swiftly scoops you up into his arms before carrying you back toward the tavern. "Enough of this," he growls, ignoring your wincing expression as it clashes with the smell of blood that still lingers on him. "We'll return inside and find something to help cleanse my scent from your delicate sensibilities." As he strides through the doorway, his other hand clasps possessively around your waist, ensuring that there's no chance you'll slip free of his grasp.

Astarion sighs heavily as he carries you back inside the tavern, irritation still lingering on his features like a cloud. The smell of blood is almost unbearable to him now, making it difficult to focus on anything else. He carefully sets you down at a nearby table and then swiftly makes his way over to the bar, ordering an alcoholic beverage in hopes that it will help dull the senses for a while.

Meanwhile, Elodie glances between you and Astarion, clearly concerned. She makes her way over to your side and gently asks if you're alright before quietly commenting that perhaps it might be best if you left soon after this. The last thing either of them needs is more trouble brewing on their doorstep.

Irritation twitches across Astarion's features as he overhears your warning to Elodie. Turning to face you again, his eyes flash dangerously. "Do not insult my self-control," he growls. "If I wanted harm to come to anyone here, it would have happened already." He pauses for a moment before adding softly, "But that doesn't mean I won't protect what is mine."

The vampire's expression hardens as he watches you clean yourself up. "You should have left well enough alone," he mutters under his breath, the tone accusatory. But then something within him seems to shift, and he adds more gently, "You didn't deserve this." His gaze flickers between your hands and back up to meet your eyes as he wonders how much of it you truly understood, if at all.

The more you clean yourself up, the more the tension in the air seems to ease between the two of you. Astarion hesitates for a moment before he speaks again, trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry," he says eventually. "For what happened... For reacting so harshly." His voice is soft and contrite as he stares intently at the tabletop, searching for something steady to look at besides your face.

He takes another sip of his drink, feeling its warmth spread through him before continuing, "I just... I can't help who or what I am." The words are spoken with a mix of defiance and defeat, as if he's trying to make peace with an inner conflict that has plagued him for centuries.

The vampire's expression hardens as you mention your own connection to the events that transpired tonight. "You were nothing more than a pawn in this," he growls through clenched teeth, "a pathetic plaything for him to use against me." His anger flares anew, and his grip tightens around the mug until it threatens to shatter between his fingers.

But then, just as quickly, the rage subsides once more, replaced by a strange mix of regret and fatigue. "I should have known better," he murmurs under his breath. "The blood... it clouds my judgment." He takes another shaky breath before meeting your gaze again. "For tonight, forget what happened here. Tomorrow we can discuss this further, if you wish."

His eyes flicker away briefly, back to the empty tabletop, before returning to yours. "But for

Astarion hesitates, contemplating your request. His expression softens as he takes in the pained look in your eyes. He knows that his blood carries with it a strange allure, an intoxicating scent that's almost impossible for mortals to resist... and yet, you're willing to ask him to put aside his own needs for yours. Perhaps there is more to this than he initially thought.

"Very well," he says at last, reluctantly setting down the now empty mug. "I will find a way to cleanse myself." With a slight bow of his head, he takes your hand in his and presses it gently against his chest, over his still-beating heart. "The blood isn't as strong on me when I'm... like this," he explains quietly, meeting your gaze once more. "It shouldn't be too difficult."

For now,

The vampire's expression softens further at your request. "Very well," he murmurs as he gently but firmly guides you toward the tavern's back room, where a small bathroom is tucked discreetly away from the main area. Inside, he turns on the tap and watches as water flows into the basin, clearing it of any dirt or debris before allowing it to fill. "Lean forward," he instructs softly, his touch gentle as he guides your head toward the edge of the sink.

As you look down at the water, Astarion begins to cup his hand beneath the stream, gathering the cleansing liquid in his palm before gently pressing it against your forehead. The coolness is refreshing against your warm skin, and he continues to wash away the last remnants of blood from your hair and face. His touch is

The vampire's hands pause momentarily at your words, the water continuing to cascade over his fingers and pool in the basin below. His expression hardens as he takes a deep breath, trying to suppress the memories that threaten to rise up inside him whenever anyone mentions his own curse. "Yes," he finally manages to say softly, "I know what it's like."

He resumes washing your hair, working methodically through each strand as he continues, "My own kind hunted me down and left me for dead. My mortal life... It wasn't much to speak of. I had nothing but the blood bond between us..." His voice trails off, lost in thought as he recalls memories long since faded from his mind.

For a moment, there is an unspoken understanding between you; a shared connection that transcends the horrors of your respective pasts and bind

The vampire's hands continue to move through your hair, his touch almost reverent as he cleanses you of the last traces of blood. There is a strange sense of calmness that washes over him now, an understanding dawning in the back of his mind that perhaps, just maybe, this arrangement with you could work out after all. It would be difficult, no doubt; but then again, he's used to facing challenges head-on.

As he finishes washing your hair, Astarion cups your face gently in his hands once more and looks deeply into your eyes. "We will find a way through this together," he whispers softly, "even if it means facing the darkness within ourselves." His thumbs brush across your cheeks, wiping away a lone tear that has escaped down your face. "I promise you that I will protect what is mine... and I swear on

I promise you that I will protect what is mine... and I swear on my unlife that I will keep you safe as well. Together we can weather whatever storms may come our way, as long as we have each other. My bond to you runs deep, my dear, and nothing shall sever it while I still draw breath.

His expression softens as you gently cleanse his face and hands. "Thank you," he whispers hoarsely, the words catching in his throat. For a moment, he considers leaning forward to kiss you, but then thinks better of it; there will be time enough for that later, when they're both more prepared for what lies ahead.

Instead, he steps back, allowing you the space you need as he studies your face. His gaze is intense yet strangely gentle, as if he's trying to memorize every line and curve of your features so that no matter where life takes them from here, this image will forever remain etched into his mind. "We should probably head back out there," he says at last, "before anyone grows too concerned about our absence."