A.N Hello! I know.. I should be updating Too Close to the Sun. I am working on the next chapter so bear with me. However this little plot bunny would not leave me alone. Basically showing, among other reasons... exactly why Vicente is part of the Dark Brotherhood. Sooo, here we are. Enjoy.

Warnings: Blood, Sadistic/Sexual themes, Slash... and a very angry Vicente Valtieri. Don't be too worried it is pretty light as far as this kind of thing goes.


Vicente Valtieri withdrew his sword from the fallen assassin's chest. He stared down at the silencer's body with a contemptuous smile, thirstily drinking in the sight of the blonde man's blood freely flowing from the wound in his chest.

The young murderer had given him no choice. He had came into his room and without warning had drawn his blade and attacked the vampire with a half crazed look in his eyes. All the while yelling that he was sorry, that he was under orders. The boy had underestimated his strength. Vicente had been alive over 300 years. It wasn't the first time someone had tried to kill him. To think that the young man thought he could best him? His folly had led to his death.

A last glance at the would be silencer and Vicente turned on his heel and strode out of his private quarters. The sanctuary was silent. Rounding the corner expecting the worst, Vicente's fears were confirmed when he spotted the Argonian siblings, Teinaava and Ocheeva in a pool of their own blood. The vampire grimaced. He had no doubts as to what had taken place here. Having been in the Brotherhood for almost a good hundred years Vicente knew the workings of the guild like the back of his own hand. He knew a purification rite when he saw it. With little hope but needing his thoughts confirmed, Vicente strode towards the double wooden doors to the living quarters. He felt the contents of his stomach churn as he passed the reptilian bodies of his former brother and sister, and narrowed his eyes. Someone was going to answer for this.

He reached the heavy wooden doors and heaved one of them open until he could slip through without difficulty. Walking down the dimly lit corridor with trepidition, Vicente was rewarded with a sad sight. The Orc, Gogron gro-Bolmog, lying face down on a blood stained bed. Vicente clenched his teeth, trying to control his anger. What had the coward done? Got the friendly, booze-loving Orc drunk until he passed out on his bed, then murdered him in his sleep? It was an insult to his memory.

No, he thought as his stomach churned warningly again. He had seen enough. He knew who was responsible for this. The vampire's red eyes narrowed and hardened.

Lachance.

That bastard... He would pay.

It was that thought in mind that Vicente, stalked out of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary.

He would not return again.

It was if in a dream that Vicente stole out of Cheydinhal with only the light of the moon to guide him. The night air was chill as he wandered up the hill behind the city, the snow covered mountains looming up before him. At the ruins of Fort Farragut he paused. He'd known Lucien a long time. Indeed he had introduced the man to the Dark Brotherhood, back when he was part of the Black Hand. Strengthening his resolve, he stalked over to the hidden back entrance in the hollowed out tree and lifted up the iron trapdoor.

Making barely a sound as he dropped to the ground, Vicente caught sight of Lucien immediately. He was standing with his back to the vampire. A single flickering torch sent waves of broken light across his features.

Vicente rose to his feet slowly and with a cat like grace, walked towards the Speaker. Hearing his soft footfalls, Lucien whirled around and stared wildly at him.

"What!?" The disbelief was clear in his voice. "Vicente..."

The vampire cut him off, glaring.

"They're dead Lachance!" He spat, gaze never leaving the Speaker's face. "Every last one of them.. Your Silencer pet especially."

Lucien's normally pale face was now chalk white.

"Vicente please, understand... The Black Hand..."

Vicente growled low in his throat,

"The Black Hand what Lucien? There was nothing you could do? YOU sent that boy to kill us... Don't fuck with me Lachance, your Silencer tried that already and look what became of him!"

During his rant, Vicente had drawn his blood stained sword from it's sheath. Lucien panicked at that and used his illusion abilities to draw the shadows around himself, cloaking him from sight. Vicente smirked... He would let Lucien think he had the upper hand. He hadn't fed in weeks now, if Lucien thought only sight would allow the vampire to pinpoint his location, let him. He could smell the Imperial, could almost feel the blood pumping through his veins.

"How cruel of you to send Dom to kill me Lucien!" He laughed to the air. "You should have known he never stood a chance against me... Such a pity, he was looking promising wasn't he?"

Vicente inhaled, bringing Lucien's scent to him. There... He focused, then sprung with an almost animalistic strength. Lucien's shadows fell from him as his concentration was broken, his body pinned to one of the pillars supporting the roof by the vampire's body. He didn't move a muscle as the edge of Vicente's blade rested lightly on his throat. Slowly he moved his rich brown gaze upwards to meet the vampire's smirking face.

"My my..." Vicente tsked. "I don't remember you being quite this slow Lucien."

The Imperial made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.

"Hmmm? Oh, I see,"

Without breaking eye contact, Vicente slowly withdrew the longsword from where it rested gently on the tender skin of Lucien's neck before throwing it behind him. It fell to the stonework with a loud clatter that echoed throughout the room. Smiling darkly, the vampire simply pinned Lucien's wrists where they hung limply to the wall. Vicente closed his eyes, and let his senses guide him to Lucien's pulse point. He paused there a moment, letting his breath span out over the soft skin and feeling his control slipping. Then slowly, carefully, he nuzzled Lucien's neck, before lightly grazing his teeth up towards his jawline, giving it a feather light nip then dropping back down to press a gentle kiss to the side of the man's throat. Lucien's pulse beat wildly under his lips and Vicente smirked. Lachance was scared. Oh he was going to have so so much fun with this.

Lucien was frozen stiff. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered it was his silencer's blood that coated the blade currently pressed against his throat, but he couldn't bring himself to care much. Right now he was more worried about his own. To his surprise he felt the sword drawn away and a clattering in he background. He was shocked he could even hear it over the thumping of his own heart. He hadn't been this scared in a long time. Never before had he felt so helpless. Vicente had his wrists pinned back against the wall now, and he could feel the vampire's hot breath fanning over his neck. A nip at his jaw and then a soft kiss on his throat, before he found himself staring once more into blood red eyes.

Mustering up the last reserves of his dignity, he gave Vicente his foulest glare, before opening his mouth to once again attempt to defend the Black Hand's decision. He barely made out the first syllable before Vicente's lips were so close to his own he was almost sharing the vampire's air.

"For once in your life Lachance just shut up,"

He had barely the chance to form a retort before suddenly the vampire's lips were on his own. He stood shock still, not daring to move a muscle. Vicente wasn't deterred. His hands crept up Lucien's arms coming to a gradual rest on his shoulders, where he then grasped firmly and pushed the shorter man back further against the wall.

Lucien gasped as he felt the vampire's tongue snake past his still partially open mouth and begin to explore. Somewhere in the back of his mind Lucien wondered vaguely if vampires always liked to play with their food first.

Feeling Vicente's tongue probe further into his mouth, Lucien realised with a start that his hands were free. He raised them against Vicente's chest, hoping somewhat in vain to drive the vampire back. It was futile, he felt Vicente's smirk against his lips and the sudden heat of the vampire's body now flush against his. Lucien could feel his heart fluttering rapidly, every beat reminding him that dear Sithis-- He was going to die. He wrenched his face away from Vicente's, breathing heavily. He'd known through his entire career that as an assassin his life would constantly be on the line. He'd accepted that he would eventually stare death in the eyes, but like this? At the hands of his former master... Molested like some woman!? No.

He thrashed wildly, struggling to free himself from the vampire's iron grasp. Unprepared for the fist that smashed into the side of his face he fell still, reeling from the blow. He breathed out sharply, blowing strands of hair, damp with sweat, out of his face. When had his hair come out of it's tie? When this thought surfaced on his consciousness he clenched his eyes shut in anger. Here he was about to die and all he could think about was his hair!?

He slowly open his eyes again to meet Vicente's gaze, feeling pathetic as his body gave a traitorous shiver.

"J...just kill me." He grated out hoarsely.

The vampire's crimson eyes narrowed slightly, before with minimal effort Lucien felt his body lifted like a ragdoll and smashed down onto the stone floor below. He cried out in pain as his head hit the stonework with enough force to drive a lesser man unconscious. He barely registered Vicente's face appearing above him and when he tried to meet that stare once more he found his eyes sliding out of focus. He blinked, trying to clear his head but the black grain on the edge of his vision refused to be dispersed.

Once again he felt the vampire's hot breath against his face and stared groggily up at him. Vicente smiled, his fangs clearly showing in all their glory.

"Oh no no, my little Lulu..." He crooned teasingly. "I can think of so much better things to do to you than kill you!"

It was a mark of how far out of it Lucien was that he didn't so much as wince at the childish endearment.

Vicente smirked. Oh what a sight it was to see the aloof-mannered Lucien Lachance on the floor at his mercy. The Imperial's normally strictly bound hair had come loose and was damp with sweat, his face pale and his body trembling, wether from fear or shock Vicente could not tell.

He inhaled the smaller man's scent deeply then paused, noticing now a far more enticing aroma. Staring down at where Lucien's head rested on the flagstones, a small rivulet of dark red liquid, almost black in the low lighting pooled silently.

Vicente leaned down towards it, pausing briefly to place a brief kiss on the Imperial's ashen face. He regarded the blood with ease and after a moment flattened his hand in it coating his palm and fingers in the still warm red liquid. Without hesitation he dragged his palm over Lucien's cheek and lips, leaving a messy smear of blood across the man's defined features. It appeared the speaker was still conscious as he groaned and turned his head away. Having none of it, Vicente sat back on the floor pulling the limp Imperial onto him before roughly grasping the man's dark brown locks and forcing his head back, exposing the white flesh of his neck.


His head hurt so much, as he lay on the floor feeling vaguely aware of the weight of the vampire on top of him. Was this how it felt to die he wondered. Just pain and fear and... guilt. He realised. Unbidden images sprang to mind. The young Argonian's he helped to train, and raise as his own, Marie Antoinetta's blonde hair standing out amongst the grey of the drizzling alleyway... Gogron the Orc's drunken laughter.

He felt something warm and sticky smeared across his face and even without tasting the substance on his lips he knew that it was his own blood.

Without warning he found himself hoisted upwards until he sat straddling the vampire's lap. He felt his head wrenched upwards as Vicente's hands grasped his long hair firmly and then let out a shuddering gasp as the vampire's fangs sank into the exposed flesh of his neck.

It hurt but Lucien quickly felt the area become numb and with it his pulse evening out and his nerves calming of their own accord.

As he felt Vicente's increasingly rhythmic sucking on his pulse point, he found himself more and more relaxed until the point he was draped over the vampire's shoulders. Vicente's hands, one on the back of his head, one his waist supported his body, stopping him from slipping to the ground entirely. Lucien's last conscious thought as he felt Vicente's thumb gently circling on his hair was that if this was how dying felt, it really wasn't that bad at all...

As Vicente felt Lucien faint in his arms, he gently pressed his tongue against the flow of blood waiting for the venom to seal the wound. That done, he stood, taking Lucien's limp body with him and deposited the speaker on the somewhat ragged bed in the corner of the room. He watched the Imperial a moment, his tongue playing with the tip of one of his fangs and smirk fully in place as with a slight twitch Lucien's body went into spasms.

Spying a chair he walked to it and sat down to wait.

Three days was how long it took Porphyric Hemophilia to become irreversible.

Oh he had three days alright.

A.N Why never to piss off a vampire.