#rilliane | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dearest-and-nearest · 7 months

Text

Songbird

TW: Unhealthy relationship, yandere, minor character death

Rilliane was his most perfect creation.

The most beautiful and the most beloved, no other spawn could even dream of her place. Astarion adored her with as much passion as he adored his new powers. After all, how could it be otherwise? Beauty had always been with her, unspoiled even by Tiefling nature. The liveliness of character and lust for life, however, made him desire this insolent girl for himself. Of course, when he was elevated, he wished to take and subjugate, for could it be otherwise? A superior being was entitled to the best, and she was the best. Bhaal's child sounds like a fitting match for an ascended vampire, doesn't it?

She was his favorite perfection.

How could he not love her? With the scars from his bites, in the outfits and jewelry he'd chosen. A true beauty. And could he not fulfill her every wish? She shouldn't even have spoken, he already knew what she could have asked for.

None of the spawns could even think of all that she had. Astarion saw this, saw their envious looks, and smirked. He wouldn't let her fly far, of course, but did he have to say that? She realized that every creature had its place, and hers was right next to his.

Everything was right.

Even though she was no longer reflected in mirrors, she still had the entire mansion filled with those panes of glass. Astarion let her, after all, everyone should have some entertainment. And if she wanted to look at an empty mirror, why forbid it?

When she was once again spinning at the mirror, as if she had remained mortal, Astarion approached behind her. He moved quietly, as was his habit, and Rilliane flinched when he touched her shoulder. Turned around with a smile:

"I think this dress suits me." She glanced at the black fabric. Astarion nodded. All outfits suited her, and could it be otherwise? He couldn't choose imperfections for himself. Of course, he would have preferred to sew her outfits himself, or at least embroider to whom the owner belongs, but Rilliane was never satisfied with her passion for clothes. Of course, her every whim was catered to the second it was fulfilled. Astarion remembered well how he himself had been a spawn, remembered that visceral feeling of helplessness and anger. And that was why he knew Rilliane should not feel that way.

He must take care of her.

"I wish someone besides you would look at him," the tiefling added more quietly, still squinting at the blank reflection. Astarion frowned. Doubt did not suit her, and certainly not sadness. Gently taking her by the chin, Astarion forced her to look at herself. Tiefling did not resist, only continued to look at him with that underlying hurt. She had these occasional outbursts of defiance, and Astarion loved her despite them. After all, she could sulk all she wanted, the finale of this play was known to them both.

"My darling, don't frown. We can have another ball and believe me, no one will be able to take their eyes off you." His hand rested on her waist, gently but firmly. He liked balls, liked the way everyone looked at his treasure and realized who she belonged to. It made a smirk spread across his face, because could anything be truer? The way the others were looking away, not daring to stare for too long lest they anger the master of the house?

There was no other way.

Rilliane, as if catching his thoughts, shook her head. She didn't try to pull away, but Astarion found himself liking her gaze even less. A note of discontent slipped into her voice:

"What's the use of these balls if I can't even talk to anyone? I'm as if I'm contagious. I don't even have Bhaal's blood in me, what are they so afraid of?" She turned away and looked at her hands. Blue, with long claws - what had she seen in them to make her so upset? Astarion rolled his eyes. Every bird sooner or later tests how high it can fly with clipped wings. You just have to wait.

"'Come on, stop it. You can talk to me." And why would she need others? She was his consort. She should have spent more time with him if she felt so alone! Surely one of the spawns hadn't kept their mouth shut after all. It doesn't matter who, they'll all be punished. They'll sort it out amongst themselves. Of course, some would have to be dealt with gently, Rilliane didn't like the scars on the faces of those useless creatures, but the ones she didn't see? Oh, those will be screaming.

Astarion touched his lips to the other's temple, very close to the horn:

"Don't get so upset. It's just that maybe you're not getting enough blood? You haven't eaten much these days." He didn't like that. Why deny herself the simplest of pleasures? Of course, he didn't use force yet, because he knew she'd come to her senses sooner or later. And if she was stubborn, he would have to persuade her with effective methods. The girl had been careless and thoughtless before, and even turning into a vampire hadn't erased the scars from it. Now it had to end.

Well, if Rilliane objected, as she often did, never having gotten rid of the childish habit, why listen to her? She liked to be outraged. Astarion paid no attention to it, for he knew exactly what she needed.

After all, he was a spawn too.

Even now, she wouldn't let up:

"I don't want blood, I just want to talk to someone. Even you are completely distant. Give me one of the spawns! Come on, don't be stubborn. I promise I'll be careful!"

Astarion frowned. This was out of the question. Another foolish request, even more foolish than her desire to leave or drink his blood. Nonsense! Why would she want one of those useless and stupid creatures? Astarion had already chopped off one hand for daring to touch her, and would have left it in the sun if he had to. No one dared go near his consort.

Rilliane saw it all in his face and rose on tiptoe, grinning slyly. A familiar light flickered in her eyes, her pupils narrowed and her lips stretched to reveal fangs. Long fingers rested on Astarion's shoulders, and Rilliane must have thought herself a brilliant manipulator. He was letting her do it like a true lover.

"Please, Asty... You have no idea how boring it is to be alone all the time. Those maids scurry away from me like I've really crawled out of hell, and the rest of the spawns..." She rolled her eyes. Astarion watched, waiting for her to realize the folly of her desires. She had to see things for herself, he would just have to be patient for a while.

Rilliane sighed:

"Come on, don't give me that look. When I become a real vampire I'll give you my spawn, you can have all the fun you want."

The smile disappeared from his face. Wants to broach the subject again? How many times had they already discussed it: she wasn't ready. Too impetuous, too impulsive, and too intemperate. And, worst of all, there was no doubt that once Rilliane was free, she'd take advantage of it. Fly away faster than a heartbeat.

And Astarion wasn't about to let her go.

He ran his knuckle along her cheek, watching for the slightest change in her mood:

"My dear, you realize they are all not worthy of your attention. Why clutter my precious treasure's head with thoughts of the rabble? Or perhaps you'd like to chat with some more of the food?" He kissed her lightly, not allowing her to pull away. Then let go, smiling. Sure, she'd sulk for a couple more days, but then she'd figure it out for herself. When he was a spawn, he hated the others quickly, and hate was completely out of character for her.

***

Rilliane tried to talk to the maids who sometimes dressed her. She rarely saw them, usually dressing herself or with Astarion's help. He couldn't stand the idea of anyone else seeing her naked, but he admitted that it would take her all day to dress herself.

All attempts to chat crashed against the wall of fear and obliging silence. Rilliane tried to be kind. Tried to threaten. Ordered them to answer her, but the maids' behavior remained unchanged. If they didn't occasionally mutter their eternal "yes, Mistress," she'd think they were mute.

The other spawns avoided her. Not ostentatiously, of course, Astarion wouldn't allow it. They just abruptly stopped all whispering once she was near and tried to back away, out of sight. Their glances did not bother Rilliane, she was used to hatred and contempt.

Gradually the walls of the mansion began to turn into the bars of a cage. Astarion did not want her to leave, and it seemed increasingly unbearable to stay. There was life outside the windows, and Rilliane was cut off from it. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to anyone other than Astarion. With Shadowheart, correspondence had waned in the second decade, with the others it had ended even faster.

She was alone, and it made her want to howl.

It was sickeningly wrong. There were always people around, even if she couldn't remember their faces or their names now. Bhaal's servants, victims, just fools - it didn't matter. What mattered was that she had always been able to talk, to impose herself and listen to other people's speech, to feel alive. Now, however, everything was different. Even at Astarion's adored balls, people smiled at her, nodded, but simple conversation? No, it was too much. They were afraid of her. Rilliane didn't understand what, but she could feel it.

The days flowed with a visceral boredom. The spawns continued to avoid her, and Astarion continued not to hear her. Then one day Rilliane noticed a newcomer among them. A blond boy, very young and even smiling. That interested her, and how could it not? It had been a long time since she'd seen someone new among the spawn.

"You're new here, aren't you?" She regarded him with undisguised interest and scrutiny, like a ripe apple at the market. His hair was blond but not gray, not a single scar on his face, and why disfigure such a pretty little thing?

The boy looked at her in surprise. He turned around to look for the other spawns, but the hallway was empty. Rilliane waved her tail:

"You don't know who I am?"

A faint hope flared in my chest. If he wasn't afraid, maybe he'd tell me something. Anything, even how he came to be here, or where he used to live, or how the Gate is nowadays - whatever comes to mind! Seeing her joy, the boy shook his head gently:

"You are the master's consort. The others have mentioned you." He eyed her with obvious doubt, as if he didn't believe his own eyes. Rilliane hummed. They did look the same age, and how could the boy know how old she really was? So she just shrugged:

"Wow. What did they say about me? They probably told you to stay away, didn't they?"

"Not the others. Master said so. Warned us not to dare... Desecrate you. " He looked embarrassed, poor fellow. Rilliane hummed. She hadn't expected anything else. Of course, they weren't frightened of her by herself, but by fear of Astarion. At least it wasn't about her looks, already good. She glanced at the boy again:

"Who else is going to desecrate who. Do you even have a name? Or does the 'master' call you by numbers?"

"Viren." He looked funny, spoke well, and didn't even try to get away from her. How adorable. Rilliane smiled, extending her hand and introducing herself. The guy even smiled at her, awkwardly and fearfully, as if he expected all the punishments of heaven for this conversation.

"You talk to me, okay? And I'll talk Astarion out of punishing you unnecessarily."

"Talk?" Definitely a newcomer, still hasn't learned how to behave properly. The others had long since donned their masks of submissiveness and emotionlessness, for Astarion didn't like disgruntled faces. Rilliane rolled her eyes, laughing:

"Silly, don't know anything at all yet! Just to talk, yes. Don't be so embarrassed! I'm bored, and I don't have anyone to talk to. You know?"

He looked at her strangely, as if he couldn't believe it. He even dared to look her in the eye, which was unthinkable for any spawn. And that was exactly why Rilliane wanted to hear him. And for someone to finally hear her. And if this young man could help her with that... The thought made strange and almost forgotten feelings come alive in her chest.

Viren looked at her again, then nodded:

"And what should I call you... you? Mistress?"

"Fool. Call me by name."

***

Viren had a talent for listening.

Rilliane was eager to talk.

She talked a lot, about everything at once and nothing in particular. About past and present, old friends and new faces. The boy still couldn't believe that she was among that heroes who had saved Baldur's Gate, but that didn't bother Rilliane. On the contrary, she was only more eager to talk about those days. About the journey, about trying to decide who was cooking today, about the songs she sang and the enemies she slew. Speech poured out of her like a full-flowing river, tearing down all the dams of loneliness and longing. She wanted to talk and talk and talk.

At first Viren was tense, but gradually he realized better and better that there was no danger near her. In time, he even began to joke, and Rilliane considered it a small victory. People still liked her, she still knew how to charm and make friends.

Astarion didn't know about her conversations, but that was for the best. Rilliane had no doubt of another fight, worth him listening in on his consort's amusements. And even if all communication with Viren was limited to chatter in the evenings, Astarion had enough of that.

When she warned him about it and ordered him to keep his mouth shut, Viren nodded:

"I didn't doubt it. I hear the master kills for looking at you too much."

Rilliane snorted. Would talk more! Astarion is cruel, but reasonable. Those spawns probably did something very serious, so they paid the price.

"And I heard none of us even got a monument in the end. Awful, isn't it?"

Viren laughed, still too simple and kind for what he had become. But Rilliane didn't see it as a big deal. If Astarion hadn't turned this boy, she would have continued to languish alone. Now she had... Not a friend, no. In her entire life, she could only call Shadowheart a friend, and no one else was closer to her. A companion, yes, much better. A good conversationalist, a listener to her stories and a savior from the longings.

The boy looked at her glumly:

"Tell the Master and you'll get as many monuments as you want. You're the only one he lets talk to himself like that."

"Why, are you jealous?" The tiefling smirked. Then added:

"Come on, I can convince him to be gentler. After all, we do have a really..." She chuckled, "a special relationship."

He was taking everything too seriously! Yes, Astarion was not a kind master, but Rilliane knew that every punishment had a reason. Too slow, too stupid, too careless. The spawn of an ascended vampire should be fit for a master, and they dared not be. That was the truth of it, not that anyone had looked at Rilliane for too long.

"There you are, my treasure."

Rilliane turned around to see Astarion entering the room. He didn't dignify the frozen Viren with a glance, but that was exactly why Rilliane tensed. Too much of the familiar smoothness appeared in his movements, and his smile was too satisfied. She'd seen him like this before.

A moment before he ripped Ulma's throat out before he could shout the order to attack.

"Yes, Astarion?"

Viren tried to become more inconspicuous, unsuccessfully trying to hide his fear. He glanced pleadingly at Rilliane, but she did not look in his direction. She only smiled at Astarion. He tucked a strand behind her ear:

"Did you miss me?" It was as if he didn't notice the boy, but inside everything was a lump of tension and fear. Rilliane usually liked that look of adoration and desire to possess, but now it sent shivers down her spine. Tiefling nodded without averting her eyes, Astarion continued, deliberately soft and affectionate:

"We haven't talked much lately, but I've decided to remedy that. I know you can get... Lonely, so now you won't be alone."

Something in his words made his tail lash against his thigh nervously. Rilliane didn't give away her emotions, continuing to smile and pretend everything was fine. Yet his gaze, his tone, everything about him reeked of menace. She hadn't paid attention before, because it would be bad for others, not her, but now, for the first time in her life, she felt something akin to fear.

Still, she answered nonchalantly, as was expected of her:

"Of course! Because I'm so bored alone."

She struggled not to look at Viren. If the boy had any sense at all, he should get out of here as soon as possible and pray that the master forgot about him.

The kiss seemed scalding. Astarion clutched her waist, biting her lips as if afraid he would loosen his grip for even a second and Rilliane would disappear.

She wasn't sure how that made her feel.

***

When he saw the boy beside her, he wanted to destroy him that very second. How dare that stupid, useless spawn try to steal his consort? How dare he dare look at her, talk to her? As if he could be her equal!

Astarion didn't blame Rilliane, the girl had always liked to mess with bad company, and some habits even time couldn't eradicate. Of course, she had found someone to chat with here too. Perhaps she didn't even really see the spawn's glances, didn't mind the excessive touching, and didn't notice how he dared to smile around her. Astarion knew she was foolish, overconfident. Of course, he expected nothing from her.

But it was his duty to protect his own.

To make sure that no one else dared to infringe on her, to try to trick or steal her. And the girl needed to be taught a lesson, reminded who she belonged to.

He prepared everything slowly and unhurriedly. He furnished her new room with everything she liked, because he didn't want his consort to be bored in her new home. He made sure that she didn't suspect anything, and that the boy was still hanging around her as if he had forgotten his orders. This was what convinced Astarion that his plan was right.

When he ordered the boy to go downstairs to the kennel, he understood immediately. He shook his head, mumbling another nonsense. Begging, groveling, but how many times had Astarion heard it all before? "Don't, please, please, please, master, lord"... He hadn't been affected by it in the first decade of his new life, and he couldn't be affected by it now.

Especially when he had already planned out how he was going to spend the evening.

First, he was going to gouge out the eyes with which that traitor dared to look at her. Not in a hurry, because there was still so much time left, and why rush the pleasure? Cut off the hands he dared to touch, even accidentally. Rip out the tongue he tried to steal her away with. And, of course, he'll drive a stake through his vile heart.

All this Astarion said as he hung the boy in shackles. Tears were rolling down his face and it was so annoying. It was the same thing every time, every spawn reacted so similarly! They all swore that they would never dream of trespassing on his consort. Astarion did not listen to this, for he could see through the lies.

They were all lying, every last one of them.

Godie was a bastard and Astarion enjoyed stomping on his bones, but his lessons were remembered for life. The metallic odor of blood never left the kennel, soaking into the walls and floor, and thanks to Astarion, it was even stronger. The boy had stopped screaming midway through and it was disappointing. Did such a weakling really think he could fool his master?

A contemptuous grin curved his lips.

When Astarion finished, he ordered the spawns to remove the remains. No one could call it a body, he made sure to set an example of what happens to those who don't know their place. And the fear in the eyes of the others as they peered into the kennel was the best reward for all the effort.

Taking care of his dear bird, however, was something Astarion had to do on his own.

For now, Rilliane slept, unaware that nothing else would bother her now. Astarion smiled, as his lips touched her forehead. Her breathing continued to be measured and calm.

She didn't wake when he gently took her in his arms and carried her to the topmost room. Cazador used to store unwanted things here, but now the most valuable treasure in this cursed house was to live here.

She mumbled something in her sleep. Astarion stroked her cheek gently, smiling. Wasn't she beautiful? Now his and his alone. No need to worry about her trying to leave, no need to worry about someone planting vicious thoughts in her pretty little head, no need to worry that she might be stolen. She was his and it was right.

Astarion carefully fastened the collar on her. It had taken a lot of work to get one of these. Fortunately, Gortash had many prototypes before he developed the one he needed. The tyrant had been dead for years, and no one was interested in his stuff until Astarion remembered such useful inventions. Of course, it took a lot of trouble to find someone who would rework the prototype to suit his needs, but wasn't the result worth it? This one couldn't explode, no harm to the cute little bird, but if she tried to fly away without permission, Astarion would know.

Rilliane opened her eyes:

"Astarion? What-" She looked around sleepily, rising. Immediately she touched her collar and looked at Astarion incomprehensibly. He smiled:

"Don't worry, my love. I've figured out how to make you feel better, so take a look at your new room."

Sure, it was cramped, but Astarion knew he would fix that later. A blissful calm spilled into his chest, a pleasant sense of control. Now everything in their lives would be as it should be. Rilliane would belong only to him, and he would have no fear of anyone hurting her.

Wasn't that wonderful?

The first thing she did was try to rip off the collar. Yanked a few times, then looked at Astarion with that familiar fury. Bhaal could rid her of his blood, but not his temper, and now it was showing again. The girl jumped up from the bed, hissing curses and insults. Astarion watched this with a chuckle. Rage was good for her, especially such unbridled and wild rage.

"How dare you! Get this crap off me now!" She bared her fangs. She tore at the collar again, but the metal was strong, Astarion had taken special care of it. He waited patiently for her to calm down, for they both knew how it would end. So why the stupid tantrums?

Well, could she have done it any other way?

"Honey, everyone needs to see who you belong to. And you need to remember that."

"Belong? Oh, don't you dare think about it. Take it off, I say!" Realizing the futility of it all, she dashed for the hatch. Astarion continued to watch. There was something about that angry intemperance that made it impossible to tear his eyes away. Perhaps even a pity that Bhaal had spared his child the bloodlust and killing.

Rilliane yanked the knob a few times as Astarion pulled out the key. Only he will have access here, only he will be able to see her. But of course, he wasn't violent and would take care of her. Leaving his beloved to pine in the dark would be too cruel, so he ordered a window to be made here overlooking the city. Magically protected so she wouldn't break or fall out by accident.

What more could one wish for?

The girl stared at the key in his fingers, growling low:

"Let me out, honey."

"It suits you to be angry, my treasure, but you understand perfectly well yourself."

She shrieked in impotent rage. Unrestrained and half-crazed, remembering all the old bloodthirsty habits. Astarion was not angry with her for that. After all, of course she couldn't understand all his intentions, too fixated on freedom and the incomprehensible desire to be a "real" vampire. But he loved her, despite this outburst of defiance.

And that was the only thing that mattered in their lives.

***

She stubbornly refused to know her place. Astarion went to see her every day, and every day he endured the hurt looks, the tortured answers, and the tantrums and demands to let her out. At first Astarion had been lenient, and she was getting angry, but gradually it was getting tiresome.

"Rilliane," he called out. Rilliane stared out the window, stubbornly not turning around. Her tail flicked from side to side, showing off all her emotions. Ignoring it, Astarion came up behind her, gently touching her tense shoulders. Rilliane snarled, immediately stepping back:

"What, you think one collar isn't enough, you should add a chain too?" She jerked her head, still unaccustomed to the jewelry. Astarion grinned. Of course, he wasn't going to keep her here forever. Her attempts to resist were amusing, and any bird needed to stretch its wings from time to time.

"My treasure, you know it's best for you."

The fierce look spoke better than any words. Rilliane shook her head, still nervous and unsteady. Astarion hadn't expected anything else from her, though he hoped this misplaced anger would pass more quickly. Well, he should teach her a lesson then.

"You can get out of here though, all you have to do is prove your desire."

"Talk to no one and look at no one?" she inquired mockingly. She moved her gaze quickly from one object to another, especially avoiding eye contact with Astarion. He was amused. How many years had they been together, and she still hadn't learned to control herself! Any other spawn would have been destroyed for such a thing, but Rilliane was different. Her intemperance was something to smile at.

He moved closer again, ignoring her displeasure:

"Come on, don't be mad. Trust me, you'll love it. Strip first." He stroked her cheek affectionately, admiring his most adorable spawn. She was beautiful even in a rage that wouldn't have gone to anyone else or even in her attempts to push him away:

"How dare you! You lock me in here, put this on and you think I'm..."

"It's not for sex, believe me. If you prove you can control yourself, why would I keep you here?"

Of course, he wasn't going to let her out right away. Too many people wanting her for themselves, too many who could actually steal her. She'd better be safe until Astarion got rid of them, and after that he would of course let her walk wherever she wanted again.

Rilliane looked at him in disbelief. Shook her head with a twitch of her shoulder:

"And what am I supposed to do? Besides undress?"

"You'll see."

She took up the dress with apparent reluctance. When the fabric, rustling, fell from her skin, Astarion grinned. She was beautiful. Naked, wearing a collar with his name in three languages for all to read, breathing hard with anger - could there be anything more perfect? Glancing over the Bhaalite's tattoos, scars, and other reminders of her past life, Astarion exhaled.

He would not allow anyone else to own her. Not even herself.

Taking her hands in his, he forced her to follow him. Rilliane didn't look at him exactly until the second he sat her on his lap, controlling her almost like a puppet. The girl glanced at him incredulously, trying to get comfortable. She was shivering, not from the cold, but from anger, and it couldn't help but amuse him. She still avoided making eye contact, though, and though it was right in some ways, Astarion still wanted otherwise. He took her by the chin, keeping her from looking away:

"You're going to need self-control if you want to stop being a spawn. And I intend to help you with that. Just relax and don't move for a few minutes."

Her breathing quickened and her body tensed. Astarion could feel her trying not to touch him unnecessarily, so he didn't hesitate to act. He placed her hands on his shoulders, watching for the slightest changes in her facial expressions. Rilliane clenched her teeth, trying not to move.

Yet she flinched when Astarion touched her spine, forcing her to lean forward. He knew her body and how to control it almost as well as he knew his own, though Rilliane didn't want to admit it.

Still, she pressed herself against him, breathing heavily. His tail twitched from side to side, and his claws dug into his shoulders almost to the point of pain. Her breath stung his neck, and Astarion turned his head away, knowing full well what she wanted. He had once been willing to do anything for a few drops of his master's blood.

But Cazador was different. His entertainment ended in screams and pain. Astarion on the other hand is different, he is different and their bond with Rilliane is completely different. No one would dare argue with that.

Astarion ran his fingers along his spine again and touched tail, wrenching a convulsive sigh from the her lips. He remembered well the special way thirst turned his head when he could stop being a spawn, and he waited. There was no doubt how Rilliane would act.

Her whole body turned into a taut string, freezing. Her insane in its unquenchable thirst for freedom intoxicated even him, and the moment seemed like an eternity.

Rilliane's breath came in even more gasping gasps as she moved closer to his neck for a second, and then with a helpless growl she buried her forehead in his shoulder. She shuddered, muttering curses and finally relaxing.

Astarion grinned.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #bg3 astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 rilliane #rilliane #ascendant astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x mc #astarion x dark urge #bg3 oc #bg3 mc

30 notes · View notes