Arthur Kirkland, a British noble of more years than his smooth features let on, was sitting in a darkened corner of a tavern located down by the port nursing a whiskey. This establishment was not the sort he would normally frequent, but tonight was different. Tonight he was looking for someone who stood out, someone clearly a foreigner, to satisfy his hunger. He had not fed properly in some time and could ignore the drive no longer, so now here he was, lurking in a dodgy tavern looking for a victim. So far, the choices were quite unappealing. He had been hoping for some lovely lass off one of the trading ships, but such was not his luck. It appeared that no women had been on this latest set of boats to dock at the port. That meant he must choose from among the men and absolutely none of them came remotely close to what he would consider a proper and refined meal.
It was getting on towards the midnight hour when the tavern doors swung open, admitting a very handsome man who was quiet clearly a foreigner. Arthur studied him as the man walked with a rolling gait, something only natural to a seaman, towards a seat at the bar. His interest was piqued and this seaman had sat close enough that Arthur could observe him without being too obvious about doing so. For the time being, he focused on listening to the man converse with the bar maid. The seaman certainly had an accent, thus erasing what little doubt might remain in Arthur's mind. It took him a moment to place it, but he recognized it as Portuguese a moment before the seaman sighed and pointedly explained this to the confused bar maid. She apologized with a pretty little pout and brought him some Port, trying to curry his favor again, probably hoping he would leave her some coin for being attentive.
Arthur snorted quietly, a somewhat ungentlemanly thing to do, as he continued to sip his whiskey and study this Portuguese seaman at the bar. He could see the other's face quite well from his shadowed corner, so he watched and continued to listen to him regale the bar maid with his tales from the high seas. For a few brief moments, Arthur too was swept up into the tales. The sea was one thing he truly loved, but in his state it was nearly impossible to enjoy sailing across the vastness of the cold ocean for unknown lands and treasures. He quickly brought himself out of it when he realized he was studying the seaman's, no… pirate captain's, for that was what the other had said in the tale, scar a little too intensely. It was a lucky thing, for the pirate looked over at him not a moment after he looked away. He could still see the pirate grin without looking at him properly. A bit cheeky, Arthur thought. Even still, he'd seen and heard enough. This Portuguese man most certainly was a proper meal if he'd ever seen one.
Finishing his whiskey in one quick gulp, Arthur waited for the other to look his way again before standing and walking up to the bar, leaving a rather generous amount of coin for the maid to cover his drink, before striding easily out of the bar. He was confident the pirate would follow eventually; after all, he'd used a small bit of allure when the pirate looked at him. He walked about two blocks from the tavern, slowly so that the pirate would have time to see him walk past the windows, before sliding into a convenient alley, leaning against the brick wall to wait. It did not take long for the other to come and find him.
"Good evening, sir," he began in beautifully accented English, stopping several paces from Arthur, "You seemed quite…enraptured by my tales earlier."
Arthur feigned mild disinterest, "I suppose it would seem that way. I do rather love the sea, but do not have the opportunity to enjoy it."
The Pirate hardly faltered, "Is that so? Then what made you seem so interested, if I may be so bold as to ask, sir."
Cheeky and confident, Arthur liked this one, but best to get to the main event before names had the chance to be exchanged. Arthur made a point not to get the names of his meals. Much harder to be implicated later on when the corpse turned up. He started to lean forward.
"It's simple really," he said, taking a step forward, "You look good enough to eat."
Quite suddenly, Arthur was a hair's breadth from the pirate, who exclaimed in Portuguese and leapt away from him, hand reaching for his sword while he both studied Arthur and looked for a way out. Unfortunately for him, Arthur had planned this well and his movement had forced the pirate farther back into the dim alley. Arthur grinned and there was still enough light from the half full moon for the pirate to note one very important thing.
"Vampire," he hissed, following it with the beginnings of a religious passage. At the same time he reached for something around his neck while brandishing his sword at the British noble.
"None of that now." Arthur quickly caught and held the pirate's gaze, exerting his will over the captain's. The Portuguese man stilled as Arthur's vampiric gaze took hold, slowly quieting the desire to fight and replacing it with other feelings that would make any thing Arthur did to the pirate desirable. Slowly, both of the pirate's hands fell to his sides and the sword slipped from his grasp, clattering to the cobbles. Arthur waited to see if the other would reach for him. The pirate's hand hesitated, dancing at his side, making the rings he wore sing softly to Arthur's ears, before finally reaching for the British vampire.
Arthur accepted the hand, pulling the other man closer, wrapping one arm around his waist and moving the other to undo the high collar of the pirate's shirt, allowing the other's hands to wander as they pleased. He had more pressing needs to satisfy. Collar undone, Arthur leaned closer, pausing briefly to enjoy the scent of the sea on the pirate's skin before opening his mouth and sinking his fangs into the deliciously pulsing vein. The pirate gasped, a light, breathy sound that almost belonged to other pleasurable pursuits, and his hands found his way to Arthur's shoulders, again reminiscent of other activities. Were Arthur not so hungry he may have considered keeping him as a playmate for a time. Unfortunately, Arthur was quite hungry and felt as though he could taste the very beauty and might of his beloved ocean in this pirate's blood.
As Arthur began to greedily consume the other's blood, the pirate continued to gasp and make other quite needy noises, Arthur's vampiric gaze and the poison in his bite combining to send him on a pleasurable high like no other. What he saw and felt had little to do with what was truly happening to his body and Arthur slowly pulled every drop of warm blood from his veins. Eventually, the pirate's grip became more and more lax until finally, his knees buckled and he lost the strength to hold any portion of his body upright. Arthur caught him easily. He was torn between sighing with regret for a good meal ending and growling in frustration for the same reason, but soon no more blood wept into his eager mouth. Arthur reluctantly pulled away and lay the body down on the cobbles, fixing the collar to make the bite less obvious.
"Now you understand and I thank you for the surprisingly good meal, Captain."
With that he stood and started down the alleyway towards his manor, considering stopping along the way and paying someone to dump the body into the sea, still reveling in the taste of the blood lingering on his tongue and fangs. Distantly, he heard the sigh of silver rings brushing together. Soon after, a gasp sounded and Arthur assumed someone must have found the pirate's body, though sooner then he would have thought. Breathing; a heartbeat; certainly someone living was now in the alley. At least now he would not need to hire anyone.
"It seems rude to use someone for a meal and leave them in an alley, vampire. Nothing at all like an English gentleman."
Arthur, not believing his own ears, whirled around to find the Portuguese man had gotten to his feet and was striding slowly towards him, all the while smirking at the stunned British vampire.
"How…" Arthur cut himself off as realization dawned on him with the flavor of the blood still on his tongue. The sea can do many wondrous things to those she chooses to favor. Clearly, this man was one such.
Something flew towards Arthur and he caught it on instinct. Instant regret and rage flashed through him as his palm felt the searing burn of a blessed silver cross. He could do nothing but hiss and desperately try to unclench his hand, the sacred piece quickly sapping all the thrilling strength the pirate's blood had given him. The hunter had suddenly become the hunted and he was at this man's mercy.
"Now we can discuss how you will pay for your meal," the Portuguese pirate said with a smile and a hard glint in his eye. This was not going to be quick or painless for the vampire.
I wrote this for a friend on Tumblr. It was my first time writing Portugal, but I think it turned out pretty well. Feedback would be wonderful.