Nighttime in New York
Author: Cheladoniel
Summary: A Childe of the Night stalks Specs and an ancient Queen loves Spot. What happens when they meet? Please note this is SLASH and HET.
Rating: R because I'm being cautious. Lots of swearing eventually.
Pairing: The Golden One/Specs, The Silver Queen/Spot. You'll find out who the others are IF YOU READ.
A/N: My first attempt at slash. So review and tell me whatchya think. And please be gentle. Flames will be used to roast marshmallows and temper very sharp knives which will then be used on flamers (the knives, not the marshmallows).
Shoutouts: Anne: WRONG AGAIN!
Vinyl: Ain't cliffhangers a blast?
Ozma: I'm glad you think it's original. Read Malevolent Sins by Stage.
Neffie: Thanks!!! I'm glad you like it… more coming!!!
Specs wandered aimlessly about the streets of New York. He was dazed… he remembered being in the bar, and hearing a voice, and following it, but then everything went blank until he heard *I will taste you again,* and he saw the grandiose buildings and well dressed people indicating the classy area he was in.
Ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from the gentlefolk, Specs tried to find his way back to the voice, but soon ended up at the edge of Brooklyn. Giving up for the time being, he headed off in search of Spot to pay his respects.
Half an hour later, he found the Brooklyn leader, deep in a staring contest with an ice maiden. Hesitant to interrupt, he was surprised to hear Spot say, "How did you know my name? I nevah told anybahdy dat." But he was more surprised to hear the ice maiden reply, "Lorcan… don't you know me? Think, Lorcan… You were my lover…" The ice maiden trailed off.
"Lovah? Lady, I'se had so many goils I'se lost count a dem a long time ago. But I tink I'd remembah someone like you." He looked her up and down. "And I don't."
"Lorcan, please try… you were born in Ireland the week before me. WE were neighbors. At 15 we made love for the first time. We got engaged at 17 but I disappeared. 2 years later I returned, but with Rhisiart…" at the sound of the name, Spot stiffened. "Rhis killed my parents, then yours. When you tried to take me from him, he killed you. Remember?"
Specs saw red tears form in the woman's eyes. "Remember?" he looked at Spot, who seemed disturbed, as though he did remember. Suddenly Spot answered.
"I don' remembah, but… I dream sometimes… about a goil, and a farm, and a strange person poisoning my parents. Then I feel knives. Is that it?"
The ice maiden nodded. With tears of blood running down her cheeks, she laughed. "Lorcan, it is you!"
***
Spot was still confused- how did this beautiful woman know his name and his dreams? Thinking, he noticed that she looked remarkably like the girl from his "memories," if older, wiser, and crueler. He searched his mind for a name… he remembered Rhisiart… but her name was… was…
"Esyllt?"
The woman, Esyllt, suddenly looked much younger and smiled wider. "You do remember!"
***
The Golden One was waiting for the sun to go down and his Sire to come home. Pacing the length of the room, he savored the lingering taste of blood in his mouth. That boy had been so sweet, fresh… pure.
He looked impatiently at the clock on the wall. It was almost nightfall. His Sire should return soon with some mortal. The youth went to his room… one of the benefits of being eight centuries old was that you became infinitely wealthy. The shining couple could afford to occupy the penthouse suit of the hotel for an indiscriminate length of time and took full advantage of it. Looking at the shaded window, he saw the dingy light that signified New York's day give way to the dusky rose indicating sun set. Quickly he changed his clothes, from dingy things allowing him to pass into the lower neighborhoods unnoticed into high class garments. He sighed. This is how he was meant to dress. He tied the sign of his heritage around his neck- a golden Celtic cross with a ruby in the center. Ever Childe Sired by one of Rhisiart's spawn received one.
Rhisiart…The Golden One shuddered. Rhisiart. The Sire of his Sire. The one who killed his family. He would kill his Grandsire if he could, but Children were immortal. Nothing could kill them except one thing. Fire… fire could kill them. And no one knew where Rhisiart was unless he was with them. So he had to wait. Besides, his Sire still loved her maker. She would never forgive him if he killed Rhisiart.
Suddenly he heard footsteps. The only person who came to their rooms at night was his Sire. *At last* he thought. *We can go out!* Then he heard another set of footsteps. His Sire had found a lover for the night. He would have to go alone. Stepping into the main room just as the couple opened the door, he was stopped dead (AN hehehe PUN) in his tracks. "Lorcan?"
***
Esyllt looked at her Childe. "Gwrth, I thought perhaps you would already have left. Yes, it is Lorcan. But now they call him Spot. And this time, Rhisiart isn't going to take him away from me!"
"Very well then, Sire. I shall go." He walked over to her and kissed her hand. Her cross met his and they felt something…someone… familiar drawing near. But they ignored it, put it off as Lorcan being there. He straightened and walked out the door, in search of some rich person to eat.
Author: Cheladoniel
Summary: A Childe of the Night stalks Specs and an ancient Queen loves Spot. What happens when they meet? Please note this is SLASH and HET.
Rating: R because I'm being cautious. Lots of swearing eventually.
Pairing: The Golden One/Specs, The Silver Queen/Spot. You'll find out who the others are IF YOU READ.
A/N: My first attempt at slash. So review and tell me whatchya think. And please be gentle. Flames will be used to roast marshmallows and temper very sharp knives which will then be used on flamers (the knives, not the marshmallows).
Shoutouts: Anne: WRONG AGAIN!
Vinyl: Ain't cliffhangers a blast?
Ozma: I'm glad you think it's original. Read Malevolent Sins by Stage.
Neffie: Thanks!!! I'm glad you like it… more coming!!!
Specs wandered aimlessly about the streets of New York. He was dazed… he remembered being in the bar, and hearing a voice, and following it, but then everything went blank until he heard *I will taste you again,* and he saw the grandiose buildings and well dressed people indicating the classy area he was in.
Ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from the gentlefolk, Specs tried to find his way back to the voice, but soon ended up at the edge of Brooklyn. Giving up for the time being, he headed off in search of Spot to pay his respects.
Half an hour later, he found the Brooklyn leader, deep in a staring contest with an ice maiden. Hesitant to interrupt, he was surprised to hear Spot say, "How did you know my name? I nevah told anybahdy dat." But he was more surprised to hear the ice maiden reply, "Lorcan… don't you know me? Think, Lorcan… You were my lover…" The ice maiden trailed off.
"Lovah? Lady, I'se had so many goils I'se lost count a dem a long time ago. But I tink I'd remembah someone like you." He looked her up and down. "And I don't."
"Lorcan, please try… you were born in Ireland the week before me. WE were neighbors. At 15 we made love for the first time. We got engaged at 17 but I disappeared. 2 years later I returned, but with Rhisiart…" at the sound of the name, Spot stiffened. "Rhis killed my parents, then yours. When you tried to take me from him, he killed you. Remember?"
Specs saw red tears form in the woman's eyes. "Remember?" he looked at Spot, who seemed disturbed, as though he did remember. Suddenly Spot answered.
"I don' remembah, but… I dream sometimes… about a goil, and a farm, and a strange person poisoning my parents. Then I feel knives. Is that it?"
The ice maiden nodded. With tears of blood running down her cheeks, she laughed. "Lorcan, it is you!"
***
Spot was still confused- how did this beautiful woman know his name and his dreams? Thinking, he noticed that she looked remarkably like the girl from his "memories," if older, wiser, and crueler. He searched his mind for a name… he remembered Rhisiart… but her name was… was…
"Esyllt?"
The woman, Esyllt, suddenly looked much younger and smiled wider. "You do remember!"
***
The Golden One was waiting for the sun to go down and his Sire to come home. Pacing the length of the room, he savored the lingering taste of blood in his mouth. That boy had been so sweet, fresh… pure.
He looked impatiently at the clock on the wall. It was almost nightfall. His Sire should return soon with some mortal. The youth went to his room… one of the benefits of being eight centuries old was that you became infinitely wealthy. The shining couple could afford to occupy the penthouse suit of the hotel for an indiscriminate length of time and took full advantage of it. Looking at the shaded window, he saw the dingy light that signified New York's day give way to the dusky rose indicating sun set. Quickly he changed his clothes, from dingy things allowing him to pass into the lower neighborhoods unnoticed into high class garments. He sighed. This is how he was meant to dress. He tied the sign of his heritage around his neck- a golden Celtic cross with a ruby in the center. Ever Childe Sired by one of Rhisiart's spawn received one.
Rhisiart…The Golden One shuddered. Rhisiart. The Sire of his Sire. The one who killed his family. He would kill his Grandsire if he could, but Children were immortal. Nothing could kill them except one thing. Fire… fire could kill them. And no one knew where Rhisiart was unless he was with them. So he had to wait. Besides, his Sire still loved her maker. She would never forgive him if he killed Rhisiart.
Suddenly he heard footsteps. The only person who came to their rooms at night was his Sire. *At last* he thought. *We can go out!* Then he heard another set of footsteps. His Sire had found a lover for the night. He would have to go alone. Stepping into the main room just as the couple opened the door, he was stopped dead (AN hehehe PUN) in his tracks. "Lorcan?"
***
Esyllt looked at her Childe. "Gwrth, I thought perhaps you would already have left. Yes, it is Lorcan. But now they call him Spot. And this time, Rhisiart isn't going to take him away from me!"
"Very well then, Sire. I shall go." He walked over to her and kissed her hand. Her cross met his and they felt something…someone… familiar drawing near. But they ignored it, put it off as Lorcan being there. He straightened and walked out the door, in search of some rich person to eat.