By morning, they all knew.
It hadn't taken long for the news of Astarion's vampirism to spread through the small camp like a raging wildfire. While she didn't actually care what they thought of her for allowing him to feed from her, she did pay attention to how they treated him.
Would they kick him to the curb? Demand that he pay a penance to stay?
Kill him?
Hope waited all morning, bated breath, listening to them and assessing their body language.
"We've all got our problems," Gale had replied rather diplomatically.
Strange as it was, most of their companions didn't seem too phased. Perhaps in different circumstances, they'd be more bothered, but seeing as they didn't have many options, they seemed to share her opinion that Astarion was better off an asset than dead.
"I knew you'd all be understanding," Astarion smirked, hands on his hips as he addressed the group that morning.
Shadowheart wrinkled her nose, "We're not, but I'd rather have you with me than against me. No offense."
"Oh, none taken," he said, placing a hand over his heart as he flashed a wicked grin, "shall we continue our adventure then?"
His red eyes rested on Hope then, and though a thrill of excitement rushed through her core, she merely smiled and nodded, "Let's go. We'll need to gather more supplies, though, if we're going to make it all the way to the camp."
"I heard tell of a little shop that should carry all we might need," Gale offered, "Southwest of here, if my memory is correct."
The way to shop would have been a quiet venture if Astarion's nature hadn't been revealed the night before. Sighing softly, Hope listened to them bicker, little jabs at each other. Some harmless, others with a little more intent beneath.
What would they say to two vampires in their camp? Granted, she wasn't just a vampire, but that likely wouldn't matter to them. She didn't just drink blood; she indulged in it, and that might not set well with anyone other than Astarion. They'd want to get rid of someone, surely, and she couldn't risk it being her.
"You really let him bite you?" Gale asked, moving ahead of the others so they could walk in stride.
Arching a brow, Hope smiled slightly as she cast a sideways glance at him. "Yes. Why do you ask?"
Shrugging slightly, he was quiet for a moment, letting the chirp of birds fill the silence before he asked, "I just would not have assumed you to be the type to offer a neck. You seem quite… cautious."
"I am," Hope said, without further explanation.
Though Gale didn't respond, she could feel his curious gaze on her as they approached the little cottage beyond the copse of trees, alive with wildlife. It was like something out of a storybook, Hope thought as she read the sign: Auntie Ethel's.
Upon entering, she was greeted with the warm scent of dried herbs and what she could only describe as home remedies — medicinal with an earthy aroma.
"Come in, come in! What are you in need of, Petal?" A graying woman with wrinkles to match emerged from a space beyond. She hobbled toward them, and Hope realized she'd seen her before. She was one of the traders in the grove.
"Just in need of some traveling necessities."
"Well, you've come to the right place," she gestured around her shop. "From potions to baked goods. I'll even set a fair price." She winked.
Hope nodded slowly, admiring the row of potions on the wall. Some she recognized, but most she didn't. The clink of a plate caught her attention, and she followed the sound to a young woman sitting at a table. She hadn't noticed her straw-blonde hair before, but now that she did, she couldn't look away.
With heavy eyes and dark circles that matched her pale complexion, Hope frowned. She didn't appear very happy.
"I can't eat another bite…" The girl said, setting her fork down.
"You can and you will," Ethel's voice took on a new tone, a sharpened edge that hadn't been there before.
With a frown, Hope glanced at Ethel, who was now preoccupied with dusting one of the shelves as if they hadn't walked in at all. "Why make her eat if she doesn't want to?" Hope asked, her voice mostly curious, but her tongue laced with a hint of venom.
Who was she to tell the girl what she could and couldn't do?
Ethel slowly turned her head and leveled a gaze on her, "I can very easily choose not to do business with the likes of you. Mind your own business, petal."
"I think we should listen," Astarion quietly said in her ear, "We'll get a better deal by leaving her be and be on our way."
Staring at Ethel, Hope clenched her jaw and ignored Astarion. She turned to look at the girl. "Do you want to be here?"
Before Hope could get any kind of answer, Ethel snapped at her and stalked toward their group. Eyes narrowed, she pointed her feather duster at Hope and snarled, "I warned you. Out with you. Now."
Holding her gaze for what seemed an eternity, Hope took a careful step back — to Astarion's relief — and she and her companions ventured outside.
"You know this isn't right," Gale said softly as they descended the porch, "that girl is being held against her will."
Hope glanced over her shoulder at the shop and pursed her lips into a thin line.
"Oh, don't go being a hero," Astarion sighed heavily, hand on his hip, "We've our own problems to deal with, you know. Parasites? You do remember those, don't you?"
Rolling her eyes, she turned to Astarion, who was standing rather close, and seared him with an irritated gaze. "I'm not a hero. I just have very little patience for abusers."
Astarion parted his lips to speak, then closed them again.
"I just want to check on her," Hope said, "I'll be right back."
"Well, fine, but don't expect me to save you when things go wrong." He said, a bit miffed as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Turning on her heel, Hope reentered the shop with careful steps, but as she crossed the threshold and glanced toward the table, she'd been sitting, only to realize the seat was empty — she was gone.
The door behind her slammed shut; the windows suddenly boarded over. The only light left was the fire in the hearth to the right.
"I did tell you to mind your business, petal…"
Hope stiffened, rotating in a full circle as shouts from outside rang in her ears.
"Redcaps! They're everywhere!" Came Shadowheart's voice.
"Hope! She's a Hag!" Gale shouted, pounding on the door. "Get out of there! Now!"
"This is what I get for entertaining absurd heroics." Growled Astarion as the sound of an arrow whistled through the air, embedding with a wet thud.
"Shit…" Hope muttered as she peered through the shadows of the shop, but she couldn't see Ethel anywhere. Had she disappeared like the girl? No, she could feel her. A dark presence that hadn't been there before.
Something slammed into her side harshly, sending Hope crashing against the wall. Glass shattered, raining down on her as she splintered the wood on impact. Looking up, eyes wide, she ignored the blood that ran down her face as she scrambled to her feet just before Ethel (she assumed it was Ethel) and raged at her.
Standing much taller than herself, her body had contorted from an elderly lady to a beast of gleefully murderous eyes and rows of sharp teeth. She looked more like a wicked, mutated tree.
Hope had always been fast, and she could have been faster than her…if she wasn't so weak without blood. In the attempt to dive away to safety, to try and pry the front door open, the Hag snatched her by the waist and threw her again. This time, across the room, where a standing tree stood.
Her back made the first impact, wrapping around it, and she could feel it; her spine snapping. Hope fell to the ground, heaving with the urge to throw up from the all-consuming pain that coursed through her body, but it was only blood that came out of her mouth like a flowing river.
"I did warn you," came the haunting laugh, but it faded as she disappeared beyond the fireplace, and Hope could only watch her flee as she lay there helpless and vulnerable.
This wasn't a wound she could dust herself off from; even for Hope, it would take a bit of time to heal, even longer without blood.
The door slammed open with a crunch of destroyed wood, and footsteps invaded the space. Her companions, luckily.
"Gods…" Shadowheart exclaimed.
"Don't touch her!" Gale replied. "Astarion, give me the potion on the wall there. Yes, the red one."
While excruciating pain throbbed through her upper half, Hope felt nothing below her waist. Which was mildly concerning.
"I do hope this doesn't make you hungry, Astarion…" Shadowheart said, cringing as Gale carefully placed the bottle to her lips.
Hope drank willingly, uncaring what it was in the moment as her ears rang with disorientation.
"It doesn't…actually," Astarion replied, his voice slightly detached as he watched her. Staring at the blood she'd lost.
Sighing, Lae'zel shook her head, "Now do you see? This could have been avoided if she had remained at camp."
"She was outnumbered," Gale defended, "We'd all have been battered by the Hag if we too had ventured forth alone."
Hope, in a shaky breath and through lips stained with her blood, said, "I assume…" she panted, "Everything in the shop is free now."
Astarion tilted his head and smirked.