In Sight Of Your Blinding Light, Chapter One

In Sight of Your Blinding Light, Chapter One

Astarion Ancunín x Named! Tav x Lae'zel

Synopsis: Mariele Malwyn has lived enough life to know that she doesn't have time for love, not after the outcomes of the last few times she let her walls down. She's made that mistake too many times. However, traveling with a group of strangers and messing around with the gith and the vampire leaves her vulnerable to doing the one thing she's been avoiding for the last fifteen years - building connections with others.

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Learn more about Mariele.

Notes: Discussions of sex, but no smut in this first chapter. Word Count: 2.5k

Chapter One

Mariele didn’t get along well with others.

Her previous clients had told her more than once or even twice that she should work on her people skills. She didn’t really understand the necessity in doing so and, in fact, thought her skills ‘with people’ were quite fine. Espionage and assassinations weren’t easily pulled off and required Mariele’s full arsenal of ‘people skills’ – everything from seduction to false kindness, to some well-placed tears, to terrifying intimidation. As long as the job got done, who cared whether or not she was nice or even likeable? She certainly didn’t.

Mariele didn’t understand the necessity of needing to get along with others until she had a mind flayer tadpole in her head, and she had, somehow, acquired a group of people who also had tadpoles in their heads that looked to her for leadership. They were a mismatched group with little in common other than their present condition and, if Mariele wasn’t wise enough to realize she was out of her depth, she wouldn’t have bothered entertaining all their individual problems and squabbles. But she couldn’t go this alone, so she was stuck with this unconventional party.

And she needed to figure out how to get along with all of them.

Getting along with some of them came easier than others. Wyll was a warlock like her, but Mariele struggled to understand how someone could make such a dangerous pact for the purpose of hunting monsters and not for his own survival and longevity. She also thought that her eyes may become stuck at some point if Wyll kept spouting his self-righteous heroic drivel that made her eyes roll.

Gale’s magic was useful, and his clumsy wit was able to pull a smile or two out of her, but she wasn’t exactly happy about having to forego magical items to keep him alive for reasons he still refused to share. He was handsome and would almost be bearable if he figured out how to close his mouth more often.

Mariele respected Lae’zel’s strategic mind, her prowess in battle, and she didn’t feel the need to speak when it was unnecessary. She was also the first person that Mariele encountered after being infected and, with all her knowledge about mind flayers, Mariele trusted the githyanki’s guidance the most out of everyone else.

Shadowheart could’ve been a tolerable addition to the group, but her constant fighting with Lae’zel truly made Mariele wish that she had never convinced the half-elf to join them when she ran into Shadowheart for the third time at the Grove. However, Shadowheart was also a healer, and they couldn’t exactly go without her.

And then there was fucking Astarion.

They met when he put a dagger to her throat, and she had to headbutt him off her. She would’ve also pulled a knife on someone if she was in his position after the nautiloid crash, but Mariele would prefer self-immolation than admit that she and Astarion had more similarities than they did differences. He grated her nerves, and their arguing was exhausting, especially when Mariele could tell that he was doing it just to fuck with her.

“You’re a warlock. You understand how dangerous the wrong deal can be.” Astarion said.

“Raphael’s only a cambion – we can handle him,” Mariele declared.

“Oh, can we? Because you’ve got it all figured out, I’m sure,” Astarion spat. She nearly gutted him on the spot. “You know who tampered with the parasite. And why. And what they have planned for us. And of course, you know why we’re interesting enough that a devil – pardon, a cambion – would proposition us. Because if you don’t know that, you may as well sign over your soul now.”

“Astarion, if you are so spineless and eager to take the first deal offered to you that might offer a solution to the worm in our head, then be my guest! No one’s stopping you. What I won’t tolerate is your judgment for me refusing to do the same,” Mariele hissed. “I already have one all-powerful being to deal with. I refuse to bend my will or sell my soul to be stuck with another.”

Mariele did not suffer fools gladly, and Astarion’s talk was exactly the kind that she did not want to entertain.

“I prefer to lean into the wisdom of keeping my options open rather than being foolish enough to believe that I’m powerful enough to deal with this tadpole on my own. I figured you would be more open-minded since you already sold your soul once,” Astarion sneered.

“You have no idea what kind of deal I have.”

“You don’t exactly strike me as a good negotiator. You seem like the type to rely more on your good looks than your brains.”

“Takes one to know one,” Mariele sassed.

She felt like she fell into a trap when she saw Astarion’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Darling…you think I’m good-looking? I’m flattered,” he teased.

Mariele opened her mouth to retort.

“Can you two please cool your tempers? It’s not safe for you to be making all this racket out here in the wilderness. Let’s focus on finding Halsin,” Shadowheart interjected.

They continued on their walk and Mariele tried her best to push their encounter with Raphael from her mind. In the nearby forest, she stopped in her tracks as she looked at a dead boar. As she kneeled to look at it more closely, she knew it was stone-cold dead, but nothing looked wrong with it except for two holes in its neck. It was probably safe to take the meat. If living on the streets taught her anything, it was not to pass up what could be a perfectly good meal, especially since it would be enough meat to feed the entire camp.

“Are you quite done staring at carrion?” Astarion bristled. Mariele whipped her head around to look at him. He was grimacing, but he seemed nervous. Mariele stood, holding his gaze the entire time. Was he really trying to pick another fight with her and this time over a carcass? He maintained eye contact with her, but as he blinked and looked away for a second, she knew that he was hiding something.

“You know something about this, don’t you?” Mariele prodded.

Astarion glanced down at the boar, back at Mariele, and then he cleared his throat. “It’s been…killed by a vampire. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to worry you,” he started hesitantly, but then finished his thought far too quickly “They’re ferocious creatures, but don’t worry. I’ll keep watch tonight,” he said.

“And how do you know so much about vampires? Encountered many as a magistrate?” Mariele asked. She thought his vague summary about his life in Baldur’s Gate was bullshit. She had been in front of several magistrates when she was caught for theft, and she had never seen him once, not even just walking around the courthouse.

“Enough to know that we should avoid them at all costs or be prepared to defend ourselves,” Astarion replied.

“Hmm,” Mariele hummed. “You’re not wrong. I’ve only encountered two in my time. I definitely shouldn’t have survived the first time.”

Astarion’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Well, go on. What happened?” He said as Shadowheart and Wyll continued through the forest.

Mariele hesitated and looked him up and down. She could sacrifice this bit of personal knowledge. It wasn’t the most terrifying tale she had in her past. It wasn’t anything he could use against her. Hell, maybe sharing this one thing will do something to make this allyship more bearable.

“I was probably twelve. I was trying to rest near the docks. Some other kids had already warned me there were vampires around, so I had a stake. This tiefling woman walked up to me and started asking if I needed any food. Told me she knew somewhere I could eat and have a bed,” Mariele began, replaying the terrifying memory in her head, but trying her best to retell it as calmly as possible. Astarion wasn’t even looking where he was stepping, his eyes solely on her as she talked.

“She kept getting closer and eventually I saw her eyes were red, which isn’t unusual for a tiefling, but her eyes were glowing. She tried to snatch me up. I stabbed her with my stake, but it wasn’t exactly enough to kill her. Just enough to scare her off. I picked up my bedroll and ran until I couldn’t anymore. I slept outside the Elfsong that night.” Mariele bent down and pulled a few raspberries from a nearby bush.

There was a moment of silence and Mariele focused on counting the raspberries to dispel the renewed feelings of fear that rose up as she was almost transported back to the docks. All the memories of that time were coming back up to choke her.

Astarion finally spoke. “That sounds dreadful,” his voice quivered. He cleared his throat again. “And the second?” he asked.

“Oh, I was in Neverwinter doing a task for my patron. He came in through my open window at an inn. That was last year. I knew how to use a stake that time,” Mariele said.

Astarion nodded. “Well, no need to worry about anyone coming near your pretty neck. I’ll be keeping watch,” he smiled. Mariele felt her face get hot. This was the second time he’d called her neck pretty, the first time being when they met. It was odd and very specific – definitely not the first thing men usually complimented her on – but it did make butterflies stir in her belly. She chose to swallow that thought down and ignore it.

Suddenly, Wyll shouted. “Hey! There’s a dog up here!”

“Shall we?” Astarion gestured for Mariele to walk forward, his smirk back on his ridiculously attractive face. “I’m happy to watch your back,” he murmured. She obliged and walked ahead of him, very aware of his hot gaze on the back of her neck.

x x x

They continued on their walk that day, recruiting a group of ogres and killing a few goblins in the blighted village.

As they began to make their way back to camp, Mariele and Shadowheart walked slower than the others to gather herbs.

“So, is the childish bickering a weird kind of mating ritual for you two?” Shadowheart asked.

Mariele whipped her head around as she plucked up rogue’s morsel.

“What?” Mariele’s brows furrowed.

“You and Astarion,” Shadowheart shrugged, as if it was simple and obvious. “You two are cut from the same cloth, but it’s like you two would rather be angry at each other over petty disagreements or insults rather than admit you both want each other.”

“I don’t want that prick,” Mariele scoffed, shoving the morsel into her bag before grabbing some belladonna.

Shadowheart leaned over and continued gathering. “The entire camp knows he’s a prick. You’re not exactly that kind either,” the half-elf said. Mariele scoffed at her comment.

“That doesn’t seem to stop both of you, in fact I think it spurs both of you on. Every time he says something ridiculous, he looks at you to see if he’s gotten a rise out of you, and sometimes, I think you goad him on purpose too,” she chuckled.

“If Astarion keeps it up, he won’t have to worry about the tadpole killing him,” Mariele stood and walked over to another patch of morsel. “And I do not goad him.”

“Are you firmly saying that you’re not attracted to him at all?” Shadowheart’s head tilted mischievously, her green eyes positively glowing. Mariele glared at Shadowheart before turning to inspect the ground. She didn’t respond.

“You can’t deny that. Even I have to say that he is good-looking,” Shadowheart kneeled next to her and helped her grab more ingredients.

“Maybe Gale’s more my type,” Mariele huffed. She and Shadowheart looked at each other and they both burst into laughter. It may have been the first time Mariele had seen the half-elf laugh in the few days they’d been traveling together.

“Do you want to corrupt him?” Shadowheart giggled.

“He’s handsome and funny, but I do think there are other ways he could be using that mouth of his,” Mariele snorted, closing her now full alchemy bag.

“Oh, so it’s easier to say that than it is to say that you might actually like Astarion?” Shadowheart teased.

“Don’t ruin the moment, Shadowheart,” Mariele replied as they walked on.

x x x

Lae’zel’s proposition couldn’t have come at a stranger time.

The party had just finished butchering an owlbear and a pair of siblings that had apparently been searching for survivors of the nautiloid crash. Mariele had wandered off from the rest of the party to look around the rest of the giant cave.

“Mariele.”

The warlock looked up from where she was pocketing a healing potion. Lae’zel stood there, her fists clenched at her side, her feet spaced shoulder width apart. Blood and viscera coated her sleek silver armor. Her signature scowl was there. Lae’zel had a way of looking at people as if they were nothing to her, but there was something different in the warrior’s gaze now. Something about the slight lift of her left eyebrow. The ever-so-subtle smirk of amusement and…approval.

“Yes?” Mariele asked, standing so that she was now eye level with the githyanki.

“I was too hasty to judge you. I thought you witless and unimpressively bland,” Lae’zel declared.

Mariele scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Thought? What changed?”

“You’ve earned my respect. You’ve proven your wits and shown your efficiency and dominance, in and out of battle. The other istik that we travel with follow you and your direction with little fuss,” Lae’zel stepped closer, right into the path of a beam of sunlight that was peeking through the roof of the cave. Mariele’s heart began to slowly beat faster as she noticed the way that Lae’zel olive skin and green eyes seemed to glow under the light.

“And you’re hardly bland. Your scent alone is enough to make my neck sweat, and my hairs stand on end,” Lae’zel continued. Mariele felt a shiver run down her spine as Lae’zel looked her up and down, as if she was being appraised.

“That’s high praise coming from you.”

“There is no need to praise you. I am simply making observations,” Lae’zel shrugged. “I want to taste you. Perhaps tonight or perhaps later. But I have had enough of just your scent. Do you want to taste me?”

Mariele considered being playful and flirtatious, maybe stringing Lae’zel along, but she figured that probably wouldn’t go over well with someone as straight forward as the woman standing in front of her.

“Yes,” the elf breathed.

Lae’zel smirked, satisfied.

“Good. One night soon, I will come to your bunk and take what is mine,” she replied. Lae’zel turned sharply on her heel and marched away towards the rest of the group.

Mariele would entertain whatever thoughts Lae’zel had about how their future dalliance would go, but, frankly, she looked forward to seeing if she could get the warrior to submit for once.

In Sight Of Your Blinding Light, Chapter One

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