Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor do I intend on profiting from anything on this website.
January 1517 was an awful time to be a human in England.
The weather did not frighten the residents of Oxford, despite the pale, cold fingers of Jack Frost creeping under doorways and through the cracks in the windows. Blackened toes and itching skin was preferable to the Sweating Sickness that was sweeping its way through the country.
The disease began with a sensation of apprehension, followed by giddiness and cold shivers which tumbled into exhaustion. After the cold stage had lasted a few hours, a great sweat would break out suddenly without any obvious cause. Accompanying the sweat was a sense of heat, headache, delirium, rapid pulse, and intense thirst. Palpitation and pain in the heart were frequent symptoms. In the final stages, there was either general exhaustion and collapse, or an irresistible urge to sleep, which many did not awaken from.
The houses that were full of the deceased were only spotted with the uncleared snow piled in front of the door, as the bodies were too frozen with the cold to produce any sort of odor. Often, the bodies were found with their throats or wrists slit wide open, as if the victim had preferred of rid themselves of life before the disease stole it from them. It was these such cases that confused most, as the dead had not shown any signs of suffering from the sickness before they were found, and though their bodies had been bled dry there were only a few spots of blood found in their vicinity. It was a very confusing time indeed.
Not many were happy to walk the streets during this darkened time, too frightened that they would be infected by an unsuspecting passerby that had ascertained their cold sweat was due to the weather. Only one family were notably blasé with their travelling, happy to travel at any time of the day or night in their embellished carriage and bejewelled gowns; many claimed they and their ever faithful servants were immune to the disease, though once a young boy swore that he could see faint veins under their eyes as they passed the home of a recent victim of the illness.
This family went by the name of DeMikaels, were of notably high blood, and had recently returned from a decade living in a small city north of Luxembourg. The four had no parents with them, as they themselves had been stated to have died from the sickness their children were immune to. The oldest in the family - Elijah - was handsome with his strong jaw and piercing eyes, always impeccably dressed. He was rarely seen without his wife, whom, though as beautiful and regal in stature as her husband, was always in possession of a mischievous smirk and a laugh building in her throat. She seemed more similar in personality to her husbands brother, as the two were often seen together entertaining the youngest of the family. His sister Rebekah was known for her beauty across the city, with her pale hair and blue eyes enchanting many, though none were bold enough to approach while she was surrounded by her fiercely protective family.
The night in question was unusually light due to the moonlight from reflecting on the snow. A figure was walking alone, thick velvet hood brought down low to protect from the cold.
"Isn't it rather dangerous to be travelling without your husband in these dark times?"
The woman turned so fast that the caller almost did not see the motion.
"You and I are both fully aware that I am capable of such a feat as walking, Elijah," The woman smiled as her husband glided from the shadow of a tree.
"Anastasia, out of everyone I have ever met over the centuries you are the most prone to catastrophe, and that includes the incidents that Niklaus starts for his own enjoyment," Elijah took her arm and the two began walking in the direction of their home.
"Yes, however none of those incidents ever began with me taking a walk at dusk,"
"Shall I remind you of our venture to dinner in Norway?" he was answered by a very unladylike snort of laughter. "It seems that I have no need of specifying which dinner."
"I am not to be blamed for that excursion, love, Rebekah was the one that chose the destination for our meal. I was not to know that along with being late, she had the lack of judgement to choose the home of a coven of witches."
"Yes, however you chose to venture in by yourself without waiting for her."
"All of my rational thoughts had escaped me," she giggled, "they had been used prior to that excursion when I was stopping Kol from making a horrific mistake with that Governors daughter."
"I seem to recall that he killed the Governors daughter?"
"That is correct." Elijah raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at his wife.
"Then pray tell how you stopped his mistake?"
Anastasia let out a huff of breath.
"He wanted to turn her and bring her to Paris with us. I could not let him ruin his fun with that scurvy queane. She was such a bore and fraught with indecency."
"Well, my dear, I commend your efforts and wish to congratulate you on your admirable success."
She stopped walking suddenly and leaned against the nearest tree, looking up at him from darkened eyes.
"Well, how do you plan on congratulating me, my love?" she asked in a low voice. Her hands came up to remove the ties from her cloak, and she let the heavy garment fall to her feet. Before the cloak had fully hit the ground, Elijah had crushed his lips to hers, forcefully pinning her against the tree. She kissed him back enthusiastically as his hands dove into her long auburn hair, hers encircling him to pull him in even closer. Her squeak of indignation when they parted turned to a loud moan of pleasure as he easily lifted her from the ground and slid his hands beneath her skirt, roughly sinking his fingers into the pale flesh of her thighs.
"I was planning on taking you home and burying myself in that hot, tight cunt of yours. However my plans have changed," he growled into her ear as he reached the top of her thighs, "I'm going to ravage you against this very tree and have you scream my name so that the whole of Oxford can hear you."
Before she had the chance to respond, he had torn her underwear from her body and dropped to his knees, bringing her legs over his shoulders and his head under her dress. A strangled cry left her as he attacked her with his tongue, lavishing broad strokes across her while he sank his fingers inside her.
After five centuries together, he knew exactly how to pleasure his wife, and played her body like an instrument, fingers a blur as he stroked her walls as deep as he could, and his tongue flicking her bundle of nerves as he gripped it gently between his teeth. He could feel her clenching around him, her juices spilling on to his hand as her cries reached their loudest yet. Sensing she was near completion, he curled his fingers forward and brought her clitoris into his mouth, sucking as hard as he could. Her body tightened and froze for a fraction, then began to shudder as she climaxed around him, convulsing around his skilled fingers. As her cries of pleasure died down, he heard a loud crack, and immediately shot to his feet to investigate.
After scanning the surrounding area and seeing no intruder, he turned to the beauty in front of him and began to laugh. The lowest tree branch had been torn from the tree and now lay at her feet, and he saw deep gouges in the bark of the trunk where her hands had been gripping the tree through his administrations. She in turn laughed through her panting for breath, as his normally immaculate hair was tousled in a way that looked like he had been struck by lightning.
"Dearest brother, I feel as though I should commend you. I could her Ana from the tavern eight streets away," a voice came from the darkness behind the tree, soon followed by a mess of caramel curls.
"So you felt the need to investigate, how thoughtful of you." Anastasia smirked at her friend as she righted her skirts.
"What do you really want, Niklaus?" Elijah snapped, annoyed at having been interrupted by his younger brother.
"We have to leave. Mikael is in Edinburgh and knows we are here." Niklaus said gravely, and it was only then that Elijah caught sight of his younger sister hurrying toward them through the trees. He quickly gathered his senses, and turned to face his wife.
"Go with Niklaus and Rebekah, find some company to compel and bring for the journey. I will meet you in Bruges before the month end. From there we can travel to the chateaux in Strasbourg."
He didn't turn to watch as his siblings sped off toward the centre of the city, following his orders and preparing to leave. He focused on his wife's pale green eyes, blazing in the grey light.
"I am not leaving you here, Elijah!" He gripped her shoulders almost too painfully for even their supernatural strength to handle, but she ignored this to glare at him. "I am not leaving you to fight that monster on your own!"
"I will not be fighting him, Anastasia, I will only be spreading our cover story. I shall compel the servants to tell everyone that we died of the sickness and Rebekah fled to the West to find Kol. I will be with you in Bruges, I promise you."
"It will be faster if there are two-" her argument was cut off by his mouth on hers for the second time that evening. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against his body, pressing her to him as he devoured her. As fast as he had started he stopped, leaving her breathless.
"I love you, my Ana. Now, Go!"