About two years ago, I started writing a fic with this plot. Then one day I deleted it from here (I think I had written four chapters) and I also deleted the file from my computer. I never thought about the story again, but these past few days I couldn't get it out of my head. I had decided to stop writing fanfiction, but suddenly I feared that the idea would drive me crazy if I didn't write it (again). So, if the story seems familiar to you, you must have read the original one (at the time I was either CortexiphanKhaleesi or khaleesiofmischief).
Excuse my ramble and any mistakes as English is not my native language. And, of course, enjoy!
Chapter 1
He was the King. Everyone respected him. Everyone feared him. No one loved him, but that did not bother him in the least. He had lived four hundred years without love, it was not a matter that could upset him.
Long ago he had made a deal with the villagers. They could no longer bear losing their loved ones, so he had agreed to something else: every year there was a market. A meat market. Humans were presented to him and he chose anyone he wanted. He never revealed what he was going to do to the chosen human and no one ever asked - it was better not to. He got the human to his residence and had his way with them. He did not attack the villagers. And as long as they still had their blood in their veins and their hearts were still beating, things were perfectly all right for them. The market was held only once a year, so all the other days they could pretend that they didn't have a vampire living close to them.
Today was market day.
He had an idea as to how the villagers got the meat for him. They probably lured strangers with the promise of a hot meal and a roof over their heads, and before they knew it they were sold to the Vampire King. The thought satisfied him; the humans acted like monsters in order to keep another, undead monster at bay.
A villager was walking by his side, presenting him this year's catch. The Vampire King was not satisfied this year, and the villagers could see that. Most of them were trembling, others were shedding silent tears. If the Vampire King did not find something to his taste, he would have a taste of them.
And then he saw him. He was like a pariah among those filthy peasants. His hair was golden and his eyes were a lovely blue. He was as tall as the Vampire King but broader and more muscular. A man who had spent his life working hard instead of being educated and cultivating mental talents.
The Vampire King approached him. The man did not step back as most humans did. He even held his gaze. His eyes were like the ocean. The Vampire King thought that he could drown in them. He looked like an angel.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Thor."
"Thor..." he repeated slowly. He rolled the name in his tongue like some sort of exquisite wine. It was a strong name, like the man who answered to it.
The trader was watching him nervously. His hands kept moving, dusting off his trousers, wringing and unwringing, flowing through his hair. The Vampire King entertained the thought of telling him that he was disappointed just in order to see his reaction. It would be the first time he rejected anyone ever since the Pact was made - it would be fun.
But he wanted that human. He was drawn to him like a moth is drawn to the flame. It was worth it, giving up his own fun just so that he could have that golden-haired human.
"I will have him," he announced.
For a moment Thor looked like he was about to attack the Vampire King, fight his way out of this arrangement. But then he seemed to think better of it. The Vampire King didn't know if Thor had decided to play the village hero or if he was just a stranger who had no place to go and nothing to lose. He wanted to know. However, either way, Thor was now his, body and soul.
The trader handed Thor to him. He gave the man one silver coin; he did that sometimes, when the catch was really good. It motivated the villagers to work hard, to try to find something good to please their master. Other traders got nothing for their hunt. Others lost their lives.
The Vampire King grabbed Thor's arm and led him on. He barely put any strength in his grip, but Thor could feel just how strong his master was. He was muscular, oh yes; but his master could crush someone's skull with his hand or break someone's back just by walking over them - all that, of course, without even sweating.
Thor was looking straight ahead. Not that he would remember anything of the route they were following; the Vampire King had used his magic so that no one could find a way to his residence and the humans who got there would instantly forget how that had come to pass. That way no one could show up and murder him and none of his humans could escape - of course, both would be very hard to achieve even without that cautionary spell, but the Vampire King did not want to take chances on those matters.
He looked at his new toy. He felt like a kid that had just received a present. He couldn't wait to play. Thor looked so much like an angel. The Vampire King had already clipped his wings by taking him as his new plaything. Now was the time to break him, to corrupt him. And he couldn't wait.
