STUPID, DASHING VAMPIRE
SUMMARY: Astarion attempts to help you after a bad flare up.
PAIRING: Astarion & Gender Neutral Reader
WORD COUNT: 1,110
WARNINGS: Descriptions of chronic pain. Also unedited because I can't be bothered, my hands hurt too much.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Had a bad flare up and decided to whip up something a bit indulgent for all the arthritic bitches out there. <3
MASTERLIST
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“Darling?”
You hear him call to you from the doorway, a hint of curiosity laced in his words, most likely wondering why you’re still here. As he comes up to greet you, you notice the soft expression that quickly turns into worry once he sees you, both brows moving towards the centre of his face as he crouches down.
“Are you alright?”
Wedged between your thumb and your forefinger the lock pick you’re attempting to use sits idle in your hands, refusing to budge through the stiffness of your joints as you sigh.
At this point, you’ve been at it for ages —trying to will your digits to perform the simplest of duties. Originally, the plan was for Astarion to loot the other room while you’d work through this one but not long after you’d started you began to feel that familiar itch. That pulsating ache that often hits you after a long day’s worth of travelling.
“I’m fine. It’s just —it’s—“
Frustrated, you force your hands to drop the lock pick. Hearing it clatter to the ground, you deeply inhale and bring your frozen hands to your temples, pressing your wrists against the heated skin, realizing it’s been a while since you’ve had a flareup this bad. So long that you almost forgot how awful it could feel. How such a small, innocuous sensation could become so largely detrimental to your well-being.
“Is it just your hands?”
Already knowing, he reaches out for your palms, pulling them away from your face as he further situates himself on the floor, watching you shake your head.
“Back too?”
This time you nod, swallowing hard once you feel his focus shift to your left hand, turning it over so that the palm faces both of you.
“My poor little pet.” He shakes his head, a sombre smile creeping across his face as he presses his thumbs into the muscles of your hand, roughly gliding across it in repeated motions. “What am I to do with you, hm?”
You roll your eyes, a sliver of annoyance passing through as he clicks his tongue arrogantly. “Your sarcasm is unappreciated, you know.”
“So is the lack of regard towards your own health.”
Raising his brow at you, you realize then his concern is genuine. That, despite the chastising tone he offers, there are also a few inklings of sympathy laced throughout, showcasing themselves in the form of rough fingers that try to ease your pain.
As much as you hate to admit it, you’re thankful for them. Thankful for him, as he works to soothe the residual pain that radiates up through your wrist, catching at your stiffened elbow.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. I can—”
“What? Do it yourself?”
You go to respond but suddenly feel a stabbing pain in your lower back, making you wince.
Gods, somehow it’s worse than you remember.
“Darling, as much as I love your unwavering resilience, I think it’s best I let you know that sometimes you tend to overdo it.”
Normally, you’d be tempted to argue but right now all you can feel is the collective agony pooling throughout your bones. All the twitching and the aching —each section of discomfort working together to render you useless against his hands that begin to move to your other hand.
Once there, he moves to repeat the motions. Taking both of his thumbs and digging them into your flesh, he circles around each spot, gripping your fingers in place as you lean back in an attempt to alleviate your lower back.
“Does this even help or am I just rubbing your hand for no reason?”
You huff out a pained laugh, watching him break out into a grin. One that’s all teeth and tongue —cheeky looking.
“I mean, it’s not not helping.”
“But it’s not the cure to your ailment, I assume.”
You nod but make no effort to stop him as his fingers continue to move across your skin, applying enough pressure so that you can really feel the labour he so graciously offers you.
“Is there something else you usually do, or?”
“Lay down and cry mostly. Wait for it to pass.”
He snorts. “How awfully depressing.”
You shrug your shoulders, watching as he performs a few more swipes with his thumbs, really getting in there for those final pushes before he releases your hand altogether, making you sigh.
“We should probably get you back to camp then, hm?”
Suddenly, moving to stand, he continues to grin at you in a way that makes your chest tighten, watching as he offers his hand, wiggling his fingers impatiently. “C’mon now, darling, we don’t got all day. The sun will be setting and I’m sure the camp would appreciate you getting all that weeping over and done with before bed time.”
You drop your jaw in false annoyance, offering your hand to him. “Wow, you’re really just going to throw my own misery back in my face like that, huh?”
“Obviously.”
Gently pulling, you feel that same painful shift in your spine that forces you to wince again, prompting Astarion to rush back down, filling with concern as he asks if you’re alright.
“Mhm, yup never better,” you say through gritted teeth, feeling his arm immediately snake around your waist, pulling you tightly against his hip.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“And you’re a bully who makes fun of ill people.”
He huffs and gently drags you up to your feet as you groan in response, feeling the tightness of your back begin to loosen thanks to the new position.
“Good?”
Tentatively stepping forward, you let out a sigh of relief once you realize that it is. That, instead of your body completely inhibiting you as it so often does, this time it’s granted you enough reprieve to be able to walk on your own. To slowly step forward through the doorway, watching as Astarion hovers cautiously beside you, reaching out to grab your waist as you falter for a moment.
“Please don’t overdo it. I’d hate to have to carry you all the way back.”
Gripping his shoulder, you offer him a smug look. “As if you could.”
His jaw clenches in response as he further wraps his arm around you, gently digging his fingers into your side. “Big talk coming from someone who can barely walk without the help of their dashing vampire friend.”
You roll your eyes and look away, feeling his previously rough hand begin to soften against you, once again rubbing soft circles, this time along your side as you move through the doorway, thankful for your stupid, dashing vampire.
-
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