Disclaimer: The universe of Valdemar belongs solely to Mercedes Lackey. I own only the plotline and Damien my OC.
Note: This is my very first Valdemar fanfic and I hope you find it an interesting read.
This fanfic is on the darker side. There's already a warning of it on the summary, but I will state it again. There is self harm, rape and guy love in this fanfiction. There will not be anything graphic written whatsoever for the last two of those things. However, there will be suicidal thoughts and self harm written out throughout this story. I am not sure how long it will be but I will write it out until the end. It might not be updated every month, but I will try my best.
(Self Note: Edited 1/8/14
Minor misspellings, Rewrote a few sentences)
Chapter 1:
"He's of no use to me here. He isn't even mine, why would I want him around me?" His step-fathers voice drifted down the hall from the kitchen.
Damien's room was right next the kitchen, and everything could be heard from there. Every time his mother and his step-father had a conversation in the kitchen, it was always about him. Damien, the son of Elda but not the actual son of Gareth. He was the oddity, the one that didn't belong.
"He's here because he is my son. You knew of him before you married me. If you didn't want him then you should have married somebody else." His mothers voice sounded irritated. She mostly stayed quiet during some of Gareth's rants about how useless Damien was, but it seemed that she had grown tired of it.
"Yes, I knew of him, I didn't think that he would be this useless to me. He hasn't even found a job! Worthless is what he is." Gareth exclaimed loudly.
"What would you expect? He's nine! Damien still need's to finish his mandatory lessons that Queen Selenay proclaimed for all the children in Valdemar to have until they can read, write, and do their reckoning at a proficient level!"
"He doesn't need to learn how to read, write or reckon. He doesn't need it at all. What he needs to do is start contributing to this household. I feed and clothe him, and yet he does nothing for me, nothing whatsoever." Gareth said coldly. There was then silence as they left the kitchen and went to their room.
Damien muffled his sobs as best as he could and sank deeper into his blankets on the floor. He was the only one in his family that didn't have a proper bed. Damien's little brothers had one each.
His mother had gotten him brand new, fluffy blankets. As far as Damien was concerned, they were way better then any beds.
Damien closed his eyes tightly and put his shaking hands over his ears as he heard some noise coming from his parents room.
He knew his mother cared for him, he knew that, but it seemed that if Gareth threatened her enough, eventually she would let Gareth do whatever he wanted to do to Damien. Tears fell down his small face. Oh how he wished that his step-father cared. He wished his mother would never stop caring about him. She was the only one he could talk to, the only one that would listen and pay attention. The only person who cared that he existed, who cared about him. The only one…
88888888-88888888
Seven Years Later
Wind ripped through Damien's too thin coat, making his body shiver as the cold air hit his skin. He was on his way home from doing some errands his step-father wanted him to do. The errands seemed to take him farther and farther from the house every week. Gareth was trying his best to keep Damien away from the house, away from them. Even after all these years, he was still told that he was worthless by Gareth. He was worthless to Gareth, that is until Gareth didn't have mother next to him. Then he noticed Damien, and Damien wished that he would be ignored during those times.
His mother didn't speak to him as much anymore. Maybe a word or two every few hours of the day if at all.
Erin and Jaime didn't talk to him one bit. It felt like he was invisible to them. Like he didn't exist at all. He was related to them through their mother, yet they acted like he was a speck of dirt on the floor. Not worth their time.
Damien clench his hand, digging his finger nails into the palm of his hand. Suddenly he felt something run down from his wrist and he grimaced in pain. He hurried as fast as he could back to the house. The bandages must be covered in blood if he felt it leak already. Good thing it was on the way back, not halfway across Haven. He wouldn't have any extra bandages, maybe a few old dirty rags from the street. Dirty rags weren't the best thing to use. Dying was one thing, but dying painfully, not able to move, and over a few days, was not how he wanted to go. The thought of not existing anymore didn't really scare Damien. He knew it was an eventual part of life, something nobody got out of in the end. What scared him the most in the world was already happening. It would only be a little while before his mother completely stopped talking to him. That was the worst thing that could happen to him, and it was happening. In a few months-maybe a year, he would be completely alone in the world. It wouldn't matter then if he was alive, but as long as his mom was still talking to him, even if it was just one word a day, he would keep on living. Keeping on living was not easy right now, but keeping the pain at bay was even harder to do. It seemed like any slice on his arm wasn't enough anymore. It needed to be deep, it needed to be sharp. Every cut helped turn his emotional pain into numbness and made his focus on a different kind of pain, pain that he and only he had control over. That pain made Damien forget everything, at least for a short while.
Before he had left the house earlier that day, before he had his errand to do, Damien had taken his knife and pressed it deeply into his wrist. Blood had bloomed from the slice immediately. The deep red color had transfixed Damien for a few minutes. Nothing had held the flow back, and Damien had liked how it had looked. His breath had been taken away by the sight of all that blood. By the time he had wrapped his arm in a bandage, there had been a river of red streaming down his arm in wonderful waves. Some had even stained his shirt in a few spots.
Damien was honestly surprised, and a little saddened, that his mother never said anything about the blood he got on his clothes sometimes when he wasn't careful about where it fell. She never said a word about it, and for some reason that hurt even more then the not talking to him for most of the day. It meant that she didn't really care about him anymore.
It hurt thinking that, it hurt deep in his heart. If his mother didn't even care about him, who else would? Nobody would, that was who. After his mother stopped speaking to him, nobody else would ever know he was even alive.
His life just wasn't fair. What had he done? Why didn't his step-father like him? He helped when he could. He did little things around the house all the time. Why did he do those… things to Damien? Why was he so disgusting?
His brothers never paid any attention to him. Why? Why wouldn't they even look at him? What did he do to them? Why did they hate him so?
Why was the only person in the world that was supposed to care and love him no matter what, speaking to him less and less with each passing day? Why did she let Gareth do that to him? Damien was still her flesh and blood, she should stop him. Why didn't she?
The tears threatening to run down his face finally let loose just as he ran into his little room. There was nobody to see his tears, and even if they did see, they wouldn't care.
With a trembling hand, Damien unwrapped the long strip of blood soaked linen from his wrist. When the wound was free of its confines, the blood started welling up from the deep gash. Damien looked at the cut, transfixed again at the sight of it. The blood really was an amazing color. Why did it have to be such a pretty color? Then again, it was something you needed to live. It made sense that as a life force, it would be such a color.
A noise outside his door snapped Damien out of his thoughts. As quickly as he could, he wiped away the blood, then wrapped another bandage around his wrist.
His door was suddenly slammed open, Damien fell onto his blankets in shock as he looked up at the face of his step-father.
"So, you're finally back. Your mothers gone, and I need you for now." Gareth sneered at Damien as he shut the door behind him with a bang. Damien scooted as far away as possible from Gareth, despair filling every fiber of his being.
88888888-88888888
"Elspeth why are you out here so late?" Talia asked as she stepped closer to her fellow Herald and good friend.
"I've got this feeling, it won't go away. I'm waiting for something to happen, or someone to appear. I just don't know what it is exactly." Elspeth replied a little frustrated with herself.
"Is it someone good, or bad?" Talia asked with concern. Usually it was the far-seers that brought news of the future, not the Herald Mages.
"He isn't bad… but bad things will happen, or are happening to him. I don't know why its being pushed at me like this though. If it were a Herald that was in trouble, we would have figured it out by now. If it were a regular Valdemar citizen… then why would it be pushed at me like this? It shouldn't, not this hard at least."
Talia thought about it as she gazed up at the stars. "He's not a Herald… but he's not an ordinary citizen…what if he's going to be chosen? Or needs to be chosen soon?"
Elspeth snapped her head over and looked at her dear friend. "That's it! But what can we do? Is there anything we can do?"
Talia shook her head slowly. "That is for his Companion to do… we can only hope and pray that he gets there before its too late."
They stood together looking up at the night sky, lost in their own thoughts.
A/N: Please review ^-^ I'd like to know what you think of my first Valdemar fanfic.
