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midnightcreator12 · 2 months ago

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The Bard and The Vampire

....so I finally got Baldurs Gate 3......it has consumed my whole brain.....prob doesn't help that I dropped my pre-built Bard into the character creator so Im projecting him into the story hardcore....

Im playing with a much larger fic that basically an OC insert where Jay is more Jay than the in-game choices let me (not a snub, love the diologe tomfoolery that comes with being a Bard)

So I wrote a scene that stands out the most to me in a kinda 'this is somewhere in Act 1 but don't try and pin where because even I don't know, this scene just feels fun'

So, yeah! Enjoy! Here the AO3 Link, be really cool if y'all could leave a comment on what you think!

Fic and a screenshot of Jay in-game under the READ MORE!

Jay Bridgestone hadn’t expected to collect himself a caravan.

Then again, he hadn’t expected to get abducted by Mindflairs and have a freaky-looking worm shoved into his eye.

He’d fully planned to keep them at arm's length. It always ended poorly when he let people in, be it because of death, clashing morals, or, more often than not, wanting more out of their acquaintance than Jay was willing to give.

He simply wanted to craft music, tell stories to be handed down for generations! Was it so hard to believe that? Yet many sought more where he was happy to let them settle. It had been the catalyst to many a burned bridge.

It resulted in quite a lonely lifestyle when he wasn’t in the thick of a city or among the comfort of a hamlet. It became easier to just stop caring, to keep everyone he meet as a simple acquaintance.

He’d planned to keep that mentality with this band of misfits he was kind of leading. It was merely convenient for them to stay together, seek a cure for their worms as a single party. A safety in numbers type of deal, in case this epic tale they found themselves thrust into got murkier.

A mutual beneficial, non-spoken contract and nothing more than that.

And yet…

Perhaps his first mistake had been asking for their stories. He always asked for stories, he was a damned bard after all, collecting stories was most of the job description. He verbally danced around people, prying for rumors and secrets to weave into songs and poems, be them personal or for the public ear.

Most of them were closed-mouthed about their tales. Glared at him and spat venom at his nerve for even asking.

Karlack, bless her mechanical heart, was more than happy to dump hours of song material into his lap, soaking up his rapt attention like a beast dying of thirst being gifted a rainstorm. And she paid him the same attention as he took her stories and weaved little ditties with plans to weave them into ballads of fire and brimstone and seeking freedom form oppression.

On the other end of that scale was Shadowheart, lips thinning and eyes sharp with distrust each time he asked. Likely assuming he would judge her for her deity of choice. For a time, his assurances that he did not feel either way about her religion was only met with a scoff of disbelief and another barb about how ‘there are some things that should not be bastardized by mistrals seeking coin.’

Which, ow, rude. But he kept at it, merely switching questions of Shar for questions of her favorite flowers and colors.

The rest were somewhere in the middle, only giving him small pieces of larger stories and getting miffed when he tried to coax more out of them. Which, fine, understandable, he was a nosey bastard. That was part of his uncanny ability to keep people just pissed off enough with him to not look into his stories and secrets.

But one could only fight so many battles among the same group before they started to open up more. And Jay could only play at being a bigger asshole than he was for some many days before his bleeding heart started leaking.

Eventually, they started to share more with him and he found himself listening. He heard their pain, their follies, offering kind words and soft melodies to ease the hurts the world had inflicted on his…friends.

Yes. Friends. After a week of running and fighting and trying to figure out if he’d misstepped in absorbing a worm or two, or if he’d doomed Astarion by letting him take the wrigglies with reckless abandon. Or if he was merely signing up for a more gruesome death by playing at being a True Soul loyalist-

…they were friends. Good friends that he found himself growing more and more protective of by the day.

That had been his mistake.

Because everyone who gets close to him eventually comes to the same conclusions.

Bards were good for making pretty melodies and fucking.

The thought flashed in Jay’s mind as Astarion leaned in close, his voice purring lowly, “I’ve been watching you, bard. And I know you’ve been looking to.”

He hadn’t! People always said that and he never was, gods damnit! This was supposed to be different! This caravan was supposed to be different-!

Astarion took a step closer, voice dropping even lower, “Perhaps we should go somewhere a little more private-”

Jay didn’t think. One too many people of Faerûn had taught him that hesitating could lead to a perilous situation.

Acting fast and moving fast were his salvation from bloody battles when in closer company.

So his body perceived a threat and moved.

He barely heard Astarion’s howl of pain as his fist connected with the man’s face. Didn’t even acknowledge the sounds of the others shouting as he ran for the treeline. He just wanted to get away.

He didn’t get far before his mind managed to remind him that pelting into the forest at night was suicidal. Especially when one was in sleep clothes and no supplies.

Jay’s breaths heaved in and out of his chest as he stood, firelight just visible at his back and darkness in yawning front of him for miles. Yet somehow, the darkness and unknown looked more appealing.

Because he knew what waited for him at camp. Confusion, questions, comments of ‘you’re a Bard, how can you write tales of love if you don’t take anyone to your bed?’-

The panic ebbed out of Jay.

Replaced by rage.

Because how dare Astarion do this to him? How dare he just throw Jay into a little box when Jay had done nothing but accept and trust him? He’d let Astarion feed if they went too long without encountering an enemy! Defended him to others who questioned his nature! Offered him safety and food in his camp and asked nothing in return! Had he…had that bastard thought the kindness had been an attempt at more? Even after Jay had clearly stated, many times, that he wanted to merely look after his friend’s health?

Well, fuck him! That was Jay’s camp! He wasn’t going to get run out of it because one small-minded vampire got the wrong idea!

When he matched his way back, he was greeted by the others in a semi-circle around Astarion's tent, faces twisted in various expressions of anger, betrayal, confusion…gods, of course Lea’zel looked more morbidly fascinated than upset!

And in the middle stood Astarion, blood dribbling from his nose and a bruise already forming on his face, looking baffled and…

And hurt.

It only made Jay’s anger burn hotter. How dare he feel hurt when Jay had never-!

Gods. And the closer he got, the more of his companions turned towards him, the more his mind started rapidly flying through conversation, hushed words of confidence and lidded eyes that he’d dismissed as fatigued minds stumbling around attempts at compliments.

Before, just a few hours ago, he’d given each the benefit of the doubt, thinking they wouldn’t be so brazen with one who was clearly not interested.

That benefit had clearly been misplaced.

Because all of them had been fucking trying! They’d all tried to make a pass, insinuate, flirt in a way beyond the playful joking manner that Jay was comfortable with.

They’d all been poking, trying to get a proverbial boot in the door. Astarion had just been the one to try and just slam the metaphorical door open.

Well, the homeowner in this mental metaphor was not expecting, nor wanted, guests.

Jay stopped a few paces away from them, out of easy reach for any of them but well with in sight and earshot. He bared his teeth in a scowl as his eyes scanned over the group before stopping on Astarion. His lip curled even more as he lifted a hand and jabbed his finger towards him, “Just because I’m a Bard that doesn’t mean I want sex all the time, you bastard!”

And Astarion blinked, jaw flapping and brow furrowing. As if he was confused!

So Jay kept going, “I don’t like sex! Or romance in general! Or holdin’ fuckin’ hands, or kissin’! So don’t go around assumin’ somethin’s there that ain’t! All I was tryin’ to do was be a good friend to you! Because I fuckin’ care about you! Not because I’m some sex god or whore! You narrow-minded harpy!”

The last statement echoed around camp, magic worming its way into the words, made into an almost physical blow by his tongue and rage. Jay took a bit of satisfaction in the fact that everyone assembled flinched.

But not enough to keep going. The anger was starting to ebb a little, making way for hurt to leak in.

His peace had been said, and now everyone was on the same page. If anyone tried again, he’d be well withing his right to chase them out of his camp.

Jay turned on his heel and stomped his way to his bedroll. He was thankful that it had been set up in a way that a large stone formation cut off his view of almost everyone’s tents. It created the perfect little hiding spot without him having to leave camp.

Because it was his camp! If Astarion couldn’t keep his pants on, he should be the one to leave!

“....gods damnit all,” Jay hissed, anger bleeding out of him completely and leaving him just feeling tired and hurt as he sat down and covered his face with his hands. “Gods damn it all.”

His fingers opened a crack when he heard a shuffle close by, far too clumsy to be anyone in the party.

He couldn’t help but smile when he saw Bite padding his way over, huge eyes staring at him unblinkingly.

“Sad?” He stopped at Jay’s side, nudging him questioningly. “Help friend?”

“Naw, don’t worry yourself about it lil guy,” Jay lowered his hands to scratch along the owlbear cub’s jaw and neck. “Silly two-leg concerns.”

“I’ll bite whoever made you sad!” Bite growled, his feathers puffing up. “Then they won’t make you sad!”

Jay chuckled, “Naw, I’m not sad. Just…had a little disagreement. It’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Bite hooted softly, settling down more firmly next to Jay. He was probably not planning to move until dawn.

Jay felt grateful. At least someone in camp wasn’t trying to bed him.

Well, two someones. He was confident that Scatch had never entertained the idea.

Unlike some people!

Jay sighed again, shuffling down until he was prone and patting his chest. Bite trilled eagerly, crawling up Jay’s torso until he was lying on top of him.

He was almost too heavy to do it comfortably…Jay really shouldn’t encourage this habit.

….oh well, if he died, being crushed by Bite wouldn’t be a bad way to go!

Jay closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep…

…the nightlife created a chorus around him. Small bugs singing in the dark, the soft whisper of owl's wings, and the other residents of the camp shuffling around. Very clearly avoiding Jay’s bedroll.

Cowards.

Jay sighed and tilted his head back, giving up on sleeping in favor of watching the night sky. The moon was full tonight, burning almost as bright as the sun, surrounded by a sea of her star children.

No wonder he couldn’t sleep, what with all of that going on right above him. The moon really should do better at chile rearing, stop her spawn from keeping weary travelers up all night!

Oh, that could be an interesting song. Maybe a lullaby? He’d need more of those if they ran into the tiefling refugees again.

Maybe he should invest in a tent? Ah, but then he’d have to lug it around. He’d rather dedicate the space in the camp chest to gemstones and potions and instruments. A few hours ago, he would have entertained the idea of asking one of the others to share with him but…well, nothing done out of kindness could be platonic with this lot, apparently.

Bite shifted, head turning in the direction of someone shuffling, a growl rumbling in his chest. Jay immediately shut his eyes, feigning sleep but listening as the steps got closer.

“Hello Bite,” Shadowheart’s voice said softly. “I’m not here to wake him, just leaving a little gift.”

Bite growled again and Jay could feel the cub trying to cover as much of the human under him as he could.

Protective little thing, maybe he should encourage that. Having an owlbear bodyguard would do wonders for keeping him out of trouble.

Oh, but then sweet little Biter would be in the line of fire. Hmmm, it would be horribly painful if the cub died.

Shadowheart’s footsteps moved closer, pausing for a moment close to Jay’s pack before retreating again. Without even an attempt to pet Bite.

Damn, the cub must look down right murderous if she hadn’t tried.

He still waited until the sound of people moving around had gone quiet for a few hours before opening his eyes again.

He looked towards his pack, frowning when he saw a folded sheet of parchment set on top, held down with a bottle. He sighed heavily, giving Bite a small push so he could sit up and grab the ‘gift’.

He nearly choked on air when he saw the bottle was from Gale’s personal stash of good wine. Hells, good was an understatement. Gale had a small collection of some of the most coveted alcohol in camp, getting him to share just a glass with anyone was hell.

And there was a whole bottle of rich, aged, red wine in Jay’s hands…

Along with a note.

Jay quickly stashed the wine away and unfolded the paper. Wyll’s careful script greeted him.

“This is a really weird group project,” Jay mumbled, even as he started to read under his breath.

It wasn’t a long note, only taking up about half the page, “Sorry for makin’ you uncomfortable. I think we all just unconsciously feel the clock ticking for us and were more brash than we’d normally be. But we shouldn’t’ve read into somethin’ that wasn’t there and we’re very sorry and we won’t try to coerce you into out beds-” Jay groaned as he got to the end, eyes just skimming the signatures of each person in camp. “Sure, thanks, makes me feel so much better. Bastards.”

Jay shoved the note into his pack next to the booze and flopped back down.

He wouldn’t chase them off, of course, they all had parasites to deal with and they all knew far too many secrets about each other. Splitting up now would be more dangerous than sticking together.

Well…he could deal. As long as everyone kept their hands to themselves.

He still barely slept that night.

By the time dawn started breaking, Jay felt like he was hungover, except he’d skipped the fun part before a hangover where he got shitfaced drunk.

Still, the sun was rising, and everyone else would be waking up soon.

Jay pushed Bite off him again, slowly climbing to his feet and gathering up his day clothes and armor. He paused for a moment, peering around the camp to make sure everyone was behind a tent flap or dirt mound or rock.

Once he was sure he was the only one up, he shooed away Bite and got himself dressed.

He was packing away his bedroll before a rustling in the brush had his head snapping around.

Astarion stood there, just within the shadows of the trees, red eyes shining bright and staring at Jay.

….right, he’d probably gone hunting, since Jay hadn’t offered up his neck for a snack last night…

…oh gods, was getting blood from sentients sexual to him? Was that why he’d been so weird when he’d said Jay was the first human he’d fed from?

Prick. Massive, cocky, self-centered prick was what he was!

Jay resolutely looked back at his supplies, fiddling with miscellaneous items and pockets just so he could feign being too busy to chat.

It seemed his effort was in vain when he heard Astarion walk closer. His shoulders grew more and more tense. He could feel eyes staring at his back.

Looked like Astarion couldn’t take a hint.

So Jay stood, spinning around and opening his arms with a flourish, plastering on a smile, the showman's mask slipping on easily as he said, “Come to try your luck again, good sir? Bit early for any ‘exploits’ don’t ya think?”

Astarion’s entire form tensed, his hands moving to fold behind his back, eyes cutting away as he seemed to struggle for words.

Jay’s eye twitched, “Now, I know you ain’t the type to just gawk. Speak, I got to pack up camp! We’ll be headin’ into those mountains soon.”

Astarion coughed under his breath and shook his head, “I’m usually not so…brash.”

Jay scoffed, finally dropping the stage smile, “I’ve heard that line before buddy. Look, just cut the crap, keep you hands to yourself and after we handle the worm we’ll part as unlikely friend.”

Astarion blinked.

He was a bit like Jay, in a way, masking behind flattery and easy smiles, saying a lot without really saying anything at all.

Now, he was barely saying a word. It was weird.

Astarion fiddled with his hands some more before sighing, “To hell with it. Look…you know I’m a spawn…before…this was all I knew to protect myself.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, “You protect yourself by trying to bed people?”

“Essentially,” Astaion nodded. “I need protection. Even with these Ilithid powers, I’m still a vampire and many don’t care for people like me. The only reason I haven’t been run out of this very camp is because of your… adamant defense of my character when the truth slipped.”

Jay rolled his eyes, “I hardly think waxing poetic about how long you went without having a decent meal before you caved is hardly an adamant defense.”

“Nevertheless,” Astarion seemed to settle a little. “I wanted to ensure that protection so I….tried to get you to fall for me.”

Jay blinked.

Then barked out a sharp laugh, “You wanted to trade sex for protection? Do you have any idea how messed up that sounds?”

“It’s not that unusual,” Astarion huffed. “It just clearly was the incorrect approach for you.”

“Yes, me, the pesky one percent. Doesn’t change that you felt like you needed to sell me your body just so I’d make sure you don’t die.”

Finally, some of Astarion's smugness returned. He crossed his arms and scoffed, “Oh please, you make it sound so crass.”

“It’s fucked up,” Jay stated bluntly. “But fine, sell your body. Just not to me, use your damned words. Something like-” he pitched his voice, parroting out a nearly perfect impression of Astarion’s voice. “Darling, the world is a big and scary place for someone like me. I’d be ever so grateful if you’d assure me that I’m safe here and you’re not going to toss me out at a moment's notice!”

Astarion gaped at him. Then frowned, “I do not sound like that.”

“You do,” Jay stated in his normal voice. “That’s you. That’s literally an impression of your voice. Because I do impressions and I’m fuckin’ good at ‘em. And for the record? You literally could have just said that. Instead of….whatever the hells last night was. Because we are fuckin’ friends and I would have told you as long as you’re here, I’ll keep you safe.”

“Right,” Astarion cleared his throat. “Won’t happen again dear.”

Jay sighed, running his hands over his face, “...is that ‘dear’ a jokey one or are you-”

“Apologies,” Astarion chuckled. “Habit, I suppose. But you’ve made yourself very clear. No late-night romps in the hay for you and I….though, I must admit, I’m unsure how to approach this as your….friend.”

“...I’m not awake enough to unpack that,” Jay sighed and finally stepped close enough to pat Astarion on the shoulder. “Just keep doin’ your thing, okay? You can still be a flirt, but keep in mind it’s not goin’ to be any more than that.”

“Ah…fair enough,” Astarion nodded…and didn’t seem inclined to pull away from Jay’s hand.

Jay walked away to check in on Scratch and Bite, collecting up his violin as he went and playing out the spell for Animal Speech.

He could feel Astarion’s eyes on his back.

Whatever, as long as they could never have a repeat of last night, Jay would get over it.

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Jay in-game as of 3-27-2025