We are switching between Nyx and Astarion POVs a few times here. But I think I made it clear enough in the writing not to require labels. Let me know otherwise. Starting with Nyx.

Z'rell met her eyes upon exiting one of the rooms and the Disciple scowled, large hatchet in hand. Her eyes settled on Nyx's bow, and she demanded, "What's going on?"

Nyx schooled her expression and provided curtly, "Harpers. I found one breaking into Balthazar's room. They took all the lanterns."

The look on 'Disciple' Z'rell's face was priceless. She growled around her bottom canines and started to bark orders at other curious faces appearing from adjacent rooms, "Find those Harpers! Bring me their heads! Now!"

--- --- ---

Tav had given them strict instructions not to kill anyone, to prevent an 'uncalled-for' retaliatory response from the cultists by giving them too much reason for an overly determined search.

But that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun.

Nyx was on his trail again; she had gotten very good at using her magic to sense him. Even in shadow. He pouted, but there was more to stealth than simply clinging to the dark.

Lithe movements helped him to evade her on several occasions, but the game was getting a bit, Well, stale. He gathered his own bow.

--- --- ---

It was clear that Astarion was thoroughly enjoying himself. He had already changed his disguise twice, making it seem that there were more Harpers on the top floor that there actually was. Nyx recognized the way he moved. At one point, he had a whole group of Acolytes chasing after their tails and jumping at shadows. Nyx had to draw heavily on her willpower not to burst out laughing at the wide-eyed novices looking around frantically and calling him 'a ghost' in whimpered tones.

I'm sure his smugness has grown tenfold at the disarray.

He easily shrugged off the novices, but Nyx noticed the stirring against her whiskers when he tippy-toed away. She stalked down the dark corridor.

Concern filled her momentarily when she heard the sounds of an Eldritch blast ricocheting through the air in the background. Her tadpole squirmed and she could feel Astarion reaching out, both Karlach and Wyll replying. Their collective response was light with amused anxiety.

Likely just to get them out of a pinch.

Nyx settled and peered around a corner leading to the support beams on the ground floor. She smirked, opting to see herself to the floor proper instead.

--- --- ---

He was disappointed at first that she didn't follow him onto the support beams. He incapacitated the goblins he came across then spotted her on the floor below. Her eyes sweeping the beams, searching for him.

Excellent. Let's up the ante.

He nocked his bow taking aim.

--- --- ---

An arrow whirred through the air, completely missing her and it hit the pillar next to Nyx. She narrowed her eyes at it then scoffed mentally, The Jerk!

Astarion had decided to dye his arrows, so that they could determine who landed the killing shot on targets. Nyx couldn't care less, but the blood red shaft and black fletching was a dead giveaway.

Her eyes snapped in the direction from whence the arrow came. His visible outline in the rafters signalled, Won't. Miss. Next. (Time).

Nyx's jaw set in determination, So that's how it’s going to be, hm? Two can play at that game, Mr. Cocky.

She took aim and he sprinted across the beams. Some of the cultists spotted him running and pointed from below shouting. Her arrow nocked, she tracked him and let it fly.

--- --- ---

Her return fire lodged an arrow into the beam below his feet. He was grinning from pointy-ear-to-pointy-ear while they continued the dance, and he weaved himself between the beams. When an arrow whipped very close by his ear, he decided to be a little cheekier on the return, shooting one-maybe-two arrows straight at her. She merely smacked them from the air with a grin matching his. Their dance was attracting too many other potential partners, and he disappeared into the shadow.

--- --- ---

The mock battle had sold the distraction, perhaps a little too well. The novices were in an utter panic, their fraying nerves had had enough of the unseen attacker (even though none of them had a scratch on them) and hilarious chaos ensued.

They stumbled over each other, and into one another, shrieking at their own shadows as well as the erratic shadows their torches cast against the walls. Wyll and Karlach joined the show.

Hideous mocking laughter rolled through the rafters along with a spreading darkness spell. The novices cowered in fear, clinging to each other as the imposing silhouette of Karlach's disguise stood above them. She pointed at them, and they cringed collectively, shivering and stammering. A deep voice demanded, "RUN!", and lighting lit up the rafters above her in a thunderous roar that shook the walls.

The bundle of novices must have soiled their breeches and collectively cried out, several turning tail and running for the exit.

"ENOUGH!"

Disciple Z'rell's psionic blast rippled through the air, stunning the novices and holding them in place. Karlach retreated into the darkness above. Anger erupted from Z'rell and she spat, "You are a disgrace," striking once of the novices across the face, throwing him into the nearby furniture. Several Adepts sidled next to Z'rell and started to dismantle the darkness spell. Fortunately, Karlach and Wyll were long gone. The Disciple continued to berate and discipline her novices when Nyx's tadpole squirmed with the next signal.

The signal that Tav and the others have left the towers. Good, that's good.

Wyll touched her mind with another wriggle in her head. She could still make out the context around the message even when the words were lost, and it concurred with her own assessment of the situation.

Time to pull back and wait for things to settle.

---

Nyx made sure to remain unassuming while Z'rell organized a sweep of the towers. After a while Karlach and Wyll reappeared, no longer disguised, and reported to Z'rell that they believed the Harpers had escaped. Disciple Z'rell did not take kindly to this information. Nyx heard a crash of something breaking and Z'rell declared, "I will personally search Balthazar's room for any trace of the culprits and when I find them..."

Nyx left to search for Astarion.

Nyx's own nerves were starting to eat at her insides. She couldn't find Astarion again. Either he had already left (which she would hope he didn't) or he was hiding so well that she couldn't sense him at all. She was holding her breath for the latter.

Her search led her to the library balcony on the first floor and she scanned the docks below. Nothing. She moved to the middle of the lookout point and squinted at the bridge. Still nothing. Then she heard him shout, "Get your hands off me! What in the hells is wrong with you!"

Nyx's heart lurched and hurried to lean over the side, below was a narrow passage hugging the side of the towers. There was a door at the end, and she could see the cracking flames of the kitchen fires inside. A strangled noise brought her attention away from the door and she gasped.

Z'rell braced Astarion using one forearm to his throat, lifting him up against the wall and pinning him there using her other arm over his chest. He kicked at her, but she overwhelmed him psionically, locking him into place. Nyx clenched her fists looking for a way to intervene. It was too high up to jump down - even with her magic.

Z'rell snarled, "Your scent was all over the picked lock and the burgled chests. You might have fooled the monk, but know a traitor when I see one."

Nyx spotted a rickety looking scaffold attached to the wall below, I'll have to risk it. Astarion struggled against Z'rell and she gut punched him hard enough for things break. Nyx slid onto the platform below, it creaked loudly when she landed. Both her body and her breath froze - but Z'rell was too busy telling Astarion how she'll 'snap his neck, put his head on a pike and make an example of him at the gate'. Nyx retrieved her quarterstaff, adjusted her footing and reinforced the staff with several layers of her magic.

The rickety platform gave way to Nyx's magic-laced vault, crumbling to crash below while Nyx ran along the wall. Z'rell's head snapped to the sound, but she hadn't spotted Nyx above. Nyx lined up her strike. Her wall run reached its natural end and Nyx used the momentum of the drop deliver a hard blow across Z'rell's back sending her stumbling away.

Nyx was crouched next to Astarion, who had sunk into a heap on the floor. She whispered, "Astarion?"

He didn't respond, chin resting on his chest and eyes closed, Shit. Fury rose in the back of her throat and Z'rell straightened, blood gushing down the side of her face.

That blow should've knocked her out cold.

The Disciple's nostrils flared, and she gaped for a moment, "You reek of the traitor," betrayal marring her voice. Z'rell squared her shoulders with Nyx, "I'll be sure you are both taken by death.", and lunged.

Nyx side-stepped Z'rell with ease, the initial blow had made her slow and clumsy. Z'rell mocked, attempting to turn again, "I'll kill him first and make you wa-."

Another quarterstaff blow stuck the same side of her head. Z'rell remained standing while Nyx waited, gauging her reactions. Her good eye glazed over, nearly matching the blind one. She swayed on her feet, her head lolled, and she fell backwards.

You talk too much.

A sharp intake of breath behind her, made her swerve to find figures standing in the kitchen doorway.

---

"Hells great fire", Wyll breathed and closed the door behind them, "What happened?"

"Wait!", Nyx threw her hands up, "Don't come closer. They don't suspect us all. Only Astarion and myself." She glanced at him then added quickly, "Get out of here, I'll see to him."

Karlach curled her lip and rolled her shoulders clearly not liking the idea. Wyll provided, "Let us know when you’re ready and we'll see you out ourselves."

Nyx wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that, but she nodded curtly, and they receded. She kneeled and pulled Astarion across her lap. The assessment began with a hand on his side and another to his throat.

Three broken ribs. Did not puncture the lungs. Good.

Badly bruised and swollen larynx, but not crushed. Going to make swallowing uncomfortable though. Minor injuries to the neck vertebrae and skull. Not enough to explain his unconsciousness...

Nyx glanced at Z'rell's unmoving form for a moment, resisting the urge to hit her a few more times.

Can't determine extent of psionic injuries, likely why he is unresponsive.

Instead, she returned her focus to Astarion, and her magic moved his ribs back into place. However, the rest of his injuries were beyond her abilities. She can't mend broken bones or heal magic related damage. She could only stitch open wounds and heal certain soft tissue trauma. Thus, she worked to administer a healing potion. Before doing so, she retrieved her hunting knife, cut her hand and squeezed a generous amount of blood into the liquid. Cradling his head, she waited for it to take effect.

Astarion jerked awake. Her teeth rattled when his flailing connected with her jaw.

Oof! Ow!

She tried to get through to him, "Astarion." Then wrestled to get his flailing arms under control, "Astarion!" Gathering his hands into her chest, "Look at me, Astarion!" He stilled and she said evenly onto his bewildered expression, "It's me. Nyx. I've got you."

His pupils were shot like a predator backed into a corner; ready to fight for his life. She continued, "We're still at Moonrise Towers and I've treated your injuries."

The tension left his body as recognition settled over him. Voices came from above, Bugger, we're exposed.

"Astarion, we have to move, or we'll be spotted. Yes?"

A groggy nod replied, she hooked an arm over her shoulders, and they shambled to the shadow at the base of the balcony wall. She placed a hand on his chest and said, "Reach out to Wyll and Karlach. Yes?"

He touched his fingers to his temple through hazy blinking. She prompted after, "What did they say?"

"They'll cover us while we make a run for it.", he slurred, and she frowned. After the pause, his slurring subsided, "Meet up at the sunken ruin."

Ah.

More voices came from above and someone spotted Z'rell. Shouting commenced.

Astarion's eyes snapped into focus, and he quipped softly, "So we're running away like a couple of dogs with our tails between our legs?"

She sighed relieved, and replied amused, "Don't think of it like that."

"Oh?"

She leaned closer and whispered, "Catch me if you can."

--- --- ---

Nyx tore off laughing. By the time his brain registered, she was halfway down the bridge. Wyll's own shout joined the others from the front door around the corner, "There they are! GET THEM!"

Astarion's body moved of its own accord. He gave a gaping Wyll a wink in passing, Child's play. This was not the first, and certainly not the last time, he must outrun guards.

Karlach's rage bellowed across the bridge and Astarion shot a glance over his shoulder. A handful of cultists joined the pursuit, Wyll and a fiery Karlach taking the lead. However, they were lagging behind quickly, How embarrassing.

He grinned and snapped his head back to Nyx, Time to gain some ground.

---

Astarion was astounded at how fast Nyx was. Not only did her magic give her unnatural speed, but she had a, technique, while running. She would glide, duck and slide; over, under and around obstructions as though they weren't even there. He was actually having a hard time keeping up.

The town came-and-went, followed by the toll house, then they were over the bridge and into the Shadowlands proper. Even winded, she managed to stay ahead of him, annoyingly out of reach.

He did, eventually, catch up with her. Just as the ruins came into view.

"Ah ha!", literally scooping her up, their momentum spinning them around, "I have you!"

She made a very weak attempt at trying to escape, "I demand to be unhanded!", laughing wholeheartedly.

"As you wish," he lulled, and he set her down. She turned in his arms smiling up at him. Several emotions caught in the back of his throat when she looked at him like that. Then lingering taste of her blood made him hunger for more, but he didn't want to see her in that way. Neither did he need to. Yet the scent of it drew his eyes to her collarbone. His brows knit, "You haven't healed yourself?"

She shrugged touching the bruise under her armour and teased, "I was a little distracted."

"Only a little?"

Her signature flat look replied and she brushed her hand over the area. The scent faded along with his hunger, but a new urge gripped at him. He wanted to mark her again, anew, somewhere everyone could see. She gave him a curious eyebrow and he grasped at something else to say.

He looked away briefly, "Uh, truth be told, my sweet", he cleared his throat and met her gaze, "You were my first", and he looked down.

Her narrowed amusement met his eyes again and he elaborated gesturing with an open hand, "Drinking the blood of thinking beings. Cazador forbid us to do so, and his authority compelled us to obey. It is an entirely different thing to animals and," he paused, "so much, more."

She shifted her weight and replied coyly, "You were my first too." A mischievous smirk quirked the corner of her mouth at his incredulous expression, and she provided, "No one has ever been able to catch me."

"Well", he preened his tunic, "In that case, my sweet, perhaps I should give chase more often." And purred, "Is there a reward for doing so?"

Nyx snorted, "I'm sure I can think of something", sliding her hands over his chest as he drew her closer.

Their kissing became more heated than he intended, pulling her flush against his body. Her breath hitched and her fever ignited. It sparked something in him too, for the first time in centuries and even if it had before; he can't remember anymore. He craved her, a different sort of hunger than the constant yearning for blood. Deeper, longing and bitterly sweet - intoxicating in its own way.

He managed between kisses, "Once back. At the Inn. Would you -"

"Yes."

Gods. That near breathless reply matched his own desire. He wanted... needed. To taste her. Touch her. Have all of her. To himself. Only himself.

Karlach and Wyll's voices and laughter drifted to his ears. He tried to pull away, but she merely closed the distance again. Smiling, he tore his lips from her, "R'hunni'vah. We have company."

"Let them see."

He grinned into the last kiss, and she relinquished him regretfully before the others came into view schooling her expression.

--- --- ---

Karlach waved excitedly and guffawed when she saw them. Bounding on her toes she declared, "Aw, yes. That was epic! When are we doing that again?"

Wyll quipped, "I'm afraid that's a one-time deal only."

Karlach deflated slumping forward, "Aaw, boo."

Nyx chuckle and nodded, "You two made for a very intimidating sorcerer. I won't mind seeing that again either."

"T'was theatrical indeed, darlings."

Karlach flashed her manic grin at Wyll, "Fuck yes." Then curled her lip, "What's up with that Z'rell anyway? Talk about a killjoy."

The rest barked a laugh in unison.

Nyx stuck her hands in her pockets, "That reminds me", and produced the remaining moon-pendants, giving Karlach and Wyll one each. She briefly explained what they were and received brilliant smiles in return. They donned the pendants, showing them off to one another as though they were medals of honour and set out to Last Light Inn. Nyx and Astarion strolling after.

--- --- ---

Astarion listened tepidly to Wyll and Karlach's retelling how they 'took care of the pursuing cultists'  while he wrestled with himself. His shades have caught wind of his light-heartedness and conspired to corrupt it.

The bile of self-loathing and the caustic effects of disgust threatened to erode his growing affections for Nyx. They taunted him, reminding him of the monster that he is and that Cazador will have her sooner or later. Take her. Feed... kill.

He spat mentally, Shut up!

They cajoled, doubling down, He always took everything from you. Are you really so naïve to believe she'd be any different?

The shades of his previous victims and former lovers attested to it. They chanted Cazador's commandments at him, over and over. It raked through him, becoming louder and louder after each repeat:

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.

Fourth, thou shalt know that Thou. Art. Mine.

He tried to swat them away and snarled, Fuck off!

"Astarion?", her features were drawn into deep set concern, and he realized he'd sworn out loud. He flinched when she reached out to him. She snatched her hand back and asked urgently, "Are you alright?"

Jesting and joking from Wyll and Karlach jarred him out of it. He blinked at Nyx. There were no words that could explain. Thus, he nodded curtly, remembered himself and managed a small smirk. Like he always had.

Her long analyzing look followed, one that he was sure could see everything that transpired, but a softness touched her features, and she simply smiled warmly. Like she somehow understood without him having to say a word.

But how could she?

She whispered under her breath, "I've got you, Erenerhym," and a comfortable and safe silence nestled between them.

He held onto it. Wrapping his senses in it.

The shades kept watch from the shadows, lurking at his peripheral vision.

Resenting. Accusing. Coveting.

Footnote:

Cazador, grr ... I've been sharpening my knives for him for a good long while now, and yet there is still so much to go... Anyway...

I didn't specify Karlach's disguise on purpose as I wanted you to imagine it for yourself. In my case, I imagined a Dragonborn.

The Moon-pendants are of my own design.