Author's Notes: Well, here's my second Castlevania fic, which I've been promising a friend (and a friend of that friend) for a while. It's sorta a sequel to "Fallen Angel", sorta not. It centers on the same two characters, but it's easily considered an independent story, since it takes place a few centuries after "Fallen Angel". That fic concerned Joachim's fall from grace, and this fic concerns his rebellion against Walter and his subsequent imprisonment. As that fic was done in Walter's POV, I'm doing this one in Joachim's POV, but it won't be in first person, because it would just be easier to write it in third person, since Joachim won't be entirely conscious for some of it. There may be some omniscient narrator bits, but probably not much.
This fic won't have near the same level of sexual content in it as "Fallen Angel", in case some of you are expecting it. I don't really feel like putting much into this fic, and "Fallen Angel" was written during a short span of time when I had kinda had sex on the brain. I was reading fanfiction that had bunches of smut, and it spilled over into my writing. This story will have a good deal of violence, though. Just a warning, in case you don't want to read about Joachim getting the spit beat out of him.
I got a some flames for "Fallen Angel", most bitching about how I had "abused Joachim", and that I had "ruined a wonderful character". One even told me I needed to know about the fundamentals of sex before I write about it, like I didn't even know what sex was. I don't care that a portion of the people who read "Fallen Angel" didn't like it, but these people wrote these flames in the most insulting manner possible, as if I would be discouraged from writing if they made me feel inadequate enough (one person even used a multiple choice flame where they checked off reasons why I'm such a pathetic waste of meat—they didn't even have the creativity to come up with their own flame). Come on, people, grow up. If making yourself feel big by putting down others is your favorite pastime, you really need to get a life. I'm wondering if I'll get flames from those same people for this fic. It'll just tell me they're too stupid to grasp the concept of not reading a story if they've disliked the author's previous work. Then again, flamers read stuff for the sole purpose of flaming, so…
Anyway, I've ranted long enough. Castlevania and all characters therein belong to Konami and other copyright holders. I'm just letting my (often very cruel) Muse play with them for a while.
Blood and Water
By Annie-chan
Joachim Armster came out of his doze slowly. He was not sure how long he had been asleep, or even if he had been truly asleep at all. All he knew was that a haze seemed to gradually lift from his eyes, and he became aware of two warm bodies pressed up against him, one in his arms and the other against his back. Two sets of arms held him, and he soon realized that he and his companions were in the middle of a large bed, the bedcovers twisted and wild. He grinned when the reason finally came back to him. The succubus Walter had under his control was the one in his arms, her almost obscenely sensuous body molded to his, and an incubus she often coupled with was the one at his back. The succubus had lured Joachim—willingly, to be sure—to this guestroom in a far wing of the castle, and the incubus had happened by and invited himself into it. No one had objected to his participation, so he had been quite readily included.
"Mmm…that was incredible, love," the succubus purred, stroking Joachim's side. "Even better than before." This wasn't the first time she and the wickedly gorgeous vampire had shared a bed. Neither was it the second, third, fourth, or fifth.
"I am very happy to hear that," Joachim replied, fingering the nearly faded bite-mark on her white shoulder. He had discovered that demon blood was literally intoxicating, not unlike strong wine. Carnal urges seemed to grow more intense after drinking it. The succubus enjoyed the feel of his fangs as much as he did feeding from her, so it had become the normal precursor to their couplings.
"Don't forget me," a sleepy voice breathed into Joachim's ear, and he felt arms squeeze his waist.
The succubus laughed. "I'm sure he enjoyed your little invasion as much as you did."
Joachim nodded silently. Having an incubus suddenly come at you from behind at the same time a succubus drew you into her sinful embrace had been an unusual experience, but not an unwelcome one. He sighed—he had no need to breathe, but easily imitated the process—and relaxed again, letting their warmth seep into his cold flesh.
"What if Walter finds out about this?" the succubus asked after several silent minutes. They all knew that the Master Vampire would certainly not approve of his favorite servant tangled up with two sex-demons. Her claw-like nails skimmed over his chest.
Joachim snorted. "Walter…he doesn't scare me."
"Does he know about it?"
"Oh, he's known almost the whole time," Joachim grinned, "and he's furious about it. He's never caught us, though, so all he can do is forbid me to continue. Master or not, he can't make me obey an order." Joachim had had an independent streak his entire vampire life, which Walter sometimes found alluring, sometimes annoying or even angering.
Silence fell again. After a while, Joachim realized that he had been listening to a sound grow louder for some minutes, but his brain hadn't yet registered it as a threat. Footsteps were coming down the hallway toward the guestroom's door, the hard heels clicking on the polished floor. He knew that gait…
His mind finally woke up enough to identify what he was hearing, but the door was flung open before he could react. He sat bolt upright, alarms going off in his head, and both demons fled in a panic. They left so fast, he wasn't sure if they went out the window or actually through the walls like ghosts.
A tall being stood imposingly in the doorway, his flame-colored hair spilling down his neck and over his broad shoulders. Blood-red armor glinted faintly in the moonlight coming through the gauzy curtains, and eyes of the same hue flashed in outrage. Joachim turned so he could face his master, staring defiantly back into those eyes. He set his jaw and held the gaze, heedless of his own nakedness, determined not to show weakness or fear to this night-creature.
"What is this, Joachim?" Walter Bernhard asked, his voice deadly quiet. "I seem to have found you in the arms of one that I had forbidden you to mate with. It appears she had also brought a friend. How curious." His voice was anything but inquisitive. It sounded as if he was barely holding in his tone, trembling on the verge of an outburst.
"You have forbidden me to bed with anyone but yourself, Walter," Joachim replied, knowing it irked the older vampire for him to address him only by his name. It was rare that Joachim willingly attached an honorific. "I could couple with anyone, and that observation would still ring true."
Walter came forward, a low growl in his throat. "You seem to easily forget your place, servant."
Joachim suppressed the urge to lash out. "I will lie with whomever I please, Walter," he said, his breath hissing faintly through his sharp teeth. "This is my body. I may choose whom to pleasure it with."
A gauntleted hand fisted in his white hair, pulling him up off the mattress. Joachim gritted his teeth in discomfort, his eyes squinting shut, but forced them open to again meet Walter's acid stare. He was being held so their eyes were now level with each other. His scalp burned.
"This is my body, Joachim," the Master Vampire said in a low whisper, his other hand running lightly over Joachim's ribcage, waist, and hip. "I made it, I gave you eternal life and beauty. You belong to me now, and will obey my commands." His fiery eyes raked over his servant's lithe form, hungry. "You have tainted yourself. I'll make you pay for it accordingly."
Joachim acted before he thought. It was not a normal course of action for him, as he prided himself in not rushing in like a fool, but Walter claiming that he belonged solely to him, body and soul, inflamed his sense of dignity and self so hotly, that he couldn't help but retaliate. He spit in Walter's face.
Walter roared in fury, lifting the smaller vampire off the bed completely and throwing him to the floor with tremendous force. Joachim felt his skeleton creak with the impact, and was afterward surprised that no bones had been broken. His head had connected with the hard surface, however, and stars exploded before his eyes. He thought he heard Walter order him to get dressed, but he couldn't quite tell through the ringing in his ears.
When the dizziness began to dissipate, he felt his nape grabbed in an iron grip, and was again lifted upright.
"I will beat this rebelliousness out of you, if it comes to that, Joachim," Walter growled, knowing his servant could understand through the momentary mental fuzziness. "I will make you obey me!"
Joachim managed to grin impudently. "You can't own a spirit, Walter. You can't enslave my will." His speech was a little slurred, the lightheadedness still lingering a bit. He was dropped to the floor with a hiss of disgust, and he heard Walter stride angrily from the room.
After a while, Joachim's head cleared enough for him to sit up without increasing the dizziness. The succubus had deposited his clothes on the floor as she disrobed him, and he gathered them together and began to dress. The almost playful defiance had drained away, and was quickly being replaced with anger. How dare he? How dare he claim to own him? Joachim Armster was a slave to no one!
He finished dressing and all but stormed from the room. For over three hundred years, he had eagerly embraced the ways of the damned, and Walter still treated him like a greenhorn, like he knew nothing of being a vampire. He was not a child anymore, and had proven that on numerous occasions. Countless humans had died under his fangs, his achingly beautiful body promising wicked pleasure to his victims, all of them blind to his true nature until it was too late to resist. He had even gained a reputation among other vampires in the area. They had at first derisively referred to him as Walter's pet, but he had over time caused them to fear him, and most dropped back if he approached. Though he was still a servant vampire, his own powers were formidable, and promised to become very potent in the future.
Joachim slammed his fist into the wall with a choked cry of rage. A servant! He was still nothing but a servant! He wasn't even afforded the same treatment as Walter's other servants. The succubus, Medusa, and the others were allowed a certain amount of freedom to do as they please. Even the mindless monsters that roamed the castle weren't completely under his control. Joachim, however, was being practically suffocated. Walter was very jealous when it came to him, and it was like he didn't even want Joachim to speak without permission. He called the younger vampire a servant, but Joachim felt more like a slave. He smiled wryly. He was probably disobeying orders and straying to other "companions" much more than he would have if Walter had let him have his space. The tighter Walter held on, the further away he moved, and his master was infuriated with every act of independence.
He had one advantage over Walter. The older vampire lusted after him obsessively, and Joachim could often calm Walter's anger by submitting to that lust. He would not deny that the many nights they had spent together were anything less than satisfying. The problem was that that satisfaction did not last forever, and his rebellious nature caused him to seek partners other than Walter. His own appetite bordered on indiscriminate, and the knowledge that he was risking Walter's wrath often increased his pleasure.
Joachim fumed through the twisting corridors of the huge castle, his thoughts consumed with anger toward Walter and an unquenchable thirst of freedom. He wanted to be his own master. His powers currently paled next to Walters, but he knew that he would be able to defeat any lesser vampire and take over their domain. Given time, he may become Walter's equal.
He finally looked up and saw that his feet had taken him near the castle's main entrance. The entrance to the deepest dungeons was near, and he found himself moving in that direction. That dungeon had been sealed tight, and he knew not how to open the door. Looking through the grates in the floor of the lowest chamber he could reach, however, told him that he didn't particularly want to. About halfway down the long winding steps to that chamber, one became aware of the throaty breathing of some colossal monster. He could see the thing through the floor grates, and it looked absolutely huge. A stink of rotting flesh came off it, and he could sense a primitive will focused entirely on rage and suffering. Whatever that thing was, it was nasty.
After several minutes, he had descended the stairs, and pushed through the door into the lowest accessible chamber. The beast's breathing rumbled in his breastbone, and the rank smell would probably knock over a human. He was quite used to death, however, and living in the same castle as zombies and other pungent monsters gave him a tolerance.
He knelt down on the floor grate and peered through. The lighting was dim down here, the darkness broken by only a few candles. The creature's flesh glistened in the faint light, however, and he knew that it was probably in a perpetual state of decay. He surmised it was some kind of undead thing, but unnaturally large. It was possible that it had been made, not born. Despite his revulsion, he felt a strange kinship with the beast. He often wondered how long Walter had kept it down here, and why.
"We're both prisoners," he murmured, not sure if it heard him or not. He knew it would be most unwise to release this monster—plus the fact that he didn't know how—but he could begin to understand its plight. The back of his mind was grateful that he was not locked in a dungeon, but it did little to quell his outrage directed at Walter for trying to enslave him. The walls of this room were mostly bars, and he was well aware of the numerous skeletons trapped behind those bars. Walter had kept prisoners down here at one time, and they had all been left to die, obviously. Most probably starved; some may even have killed each other in the madness caused by being locked in dark, cramped, stinking cages. He had never looked closely, but some appeared to be locked together in some animalistic fight, tangled together even in death.
He knelt there and watched the monster for a long time, his thoughts wandering from moody to angry to almost desperate. Finally, he raised himself back up, his knees sore from the hard metal grate, and exited the dungeon, meaning to return to his chambers and retire for a while. Though it was eternally night here, sleeping in the coffin Walter had caused to be made for him rejuvenated him, like sleeping on a soft bed did for humans. There was still a lingering weariness from his little escapade with the demons, and the crushing impact with the floor had set an ache in his body. His coffin was a very attractive concept at the moment.
One day, Walter, Joachim thought, his indignity flaring up again briefly. One day, you'll have to free me, and I can't guarantee I'll be a very good neighbor after you do.
It was frigid up here, but he didn't even notice. The dead flesh of a vampire didn't register coldness. Only heat bothered them, and there was very little of that in this forest.
Joachim was up on the spire of the tallest tower in the castle, on the throne room's roof. He could see for miles up here. This castle was incredibly huge, and he doubted humans could build it with their methods. Many of the construction methods needed were impossible for humans, and even if they could build it, it would probably take centuries to build up all the walls, carve all the sculpture, make all the glass for the windows—not a very common element in human architecture, anyway—and make all the furnishings and pieces of art. That didn't even count all the digging out it would take for the dungeons, or the cost for all the raw materials and all the laborers and artisans needed.
Even if it was possible now, this castle was built centuries ago, or even longer, he mused to himself. It was here before humans even thought of building their great stone castles and cathedrals. Walter has been master here for hundreds of years, but he wasn't the first vampire to rule here. It seemed as if this castle had been here since the beginning of time. It was now called Eternal Night, due to the peculiar powers of the Ebony Stone that Walter has in his possession, but who knows how many names its other masters had given it.
Wind whipped at his hair and clothes, and he stood up from his crouch. The red moon shone full right over his head, and countless stars burned bright and cold in the blackness of the cloudless sky. His vampire senses told him that it was in fact daylight outside the field closed in by the Ebony Stone. The sun shone in the blue sky, and he would be turned to ash in its harsh glare. It was the only thing he feared. Getting caught outside the forest when the sun came up gnawed at his mind like maggots, and he made a point of returning as soon as he saw the faintest pink glow on the eastern horizon. He had been outside the forest after sunrise only once, and that had very luckily been an overcast winter day. Sunlight filtered down to light the world, of course, and he had been very weak, almost stumbling and fainting as he sought the refuge offered by the forest. The heavy clouds overhead, though, had kept him out of direct sunlight, and it took only a good rest in his coffin to recover.
He suddenly launched himself from the throne room's roof. Flying was practically second nature to vampires, and he felt no fear as he fell from the dizzyingly tall tower. The wind caught him and made him fall at an angle, toward another black roof. He landed lightly, as if he had jumped down no more than five feet. The wind was much calmer down here. Walking along the peak of the roof, he heard a werewolf howl somewhere in the forest. For a moment, he pondered seeking it out. Werewolves were cunning beasts, but brutish and impulsive. If angered enough, they became just another mindless, ravening monster. He took a savage pleasure in confronting them, and he always came out of it victorious. It was not uncommon for him to suffer several grievous bites in the struggle, but pain sent a sharp tingling pleasure through him. He enjoyed it, exulting in the fact that vampires cannot be truly harmed by mere flesh wounds. The werewolf's curse was nullified by a vampire's healing abilities, so he couldn't become a werewolf, no matter how many bites he sustained.
He had just decided to go after that one he had just heard, but a sudden pulling at his mind stopped him cold. Walter was calling him. Not just calling him, but tugging at him mentally to make sure he obeyed the summons. If he refused, Walter could literally drag him to where he wanted him by his mind alone. Such pain did not excite masochistic tendencies, so it was hardly enjoyable.
Joachim growled, abandoning his intent to fight the werewolf, instead turning in the direction he knew Walter was calling him from. He could feel Walter's anger simmering below the surface, and it was imperative that he be cooperative. If not, he may be in for a severe punishment, and Joachim did not feel like being treated like a possession. He had become well aware of when it was wise to submit and when it was relatively safe not to submit. His little game let Walter know that he would not stand to be enslaved, but appeased his master just often enough to keep from being confined utterly to the boundaries Walter sought to impose on him. Besides, however much of an independent streak Joachim had, Walter knew how to make him scream in sweet agony, knowing just how much pain and pleasure to inflict on the smaller vampire for the maximum effect.
He found himself in his own chambers, Walter not immediately in sight. Joachim pushed through the large window and entered, looking for his master. Strange…he had been summoned here, but why was he suddenly unable to feel his master's presence?
A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he wheeled around. There was Walter, and he was not wearing his armor. There was only one reason Joachim knew of why Walter would come to his chambers without his armor on. Now was definitely the time to cooperate. Disobeying Walter's orders to stay out of other people's beds was one thing, but refusing to let his master take him was quite another entirely.
"My lord," Joachim said quietly, regaining his composure. His tone was not entirely respectful, but it was not impolite, either.
"It seems you have been feeling more and more rebellious lately, Joachim," the larger vampire observed, his voice soft. "Never before have you shown such disrespect to me. Not directly."
Joachim was silent as Walter traced his finely formed jaw slowly, almost tenderly. He neither flinched back from the touch, nor did he lean into it. A startled jolt buzzed through him as his back hit the wall, however. He hadn't even been aware that Walter had been moving him backward. His master's red eyes were mesmerizing, and he was looking right at them.
"I am willing to forgive such a transgression, however," Walter continued. "You will not be punished, if you learn to submit to my authority. It is high time you do so, Joachim."
Joachim hadn't time to reply before his lips were taken in a kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed back, letting his master do as he pleased with him. It was neither hard nor soft, but there was a certain possessiveness in it that seemed to underline every touch Joachim received from him.
He kept his eyes closed when they pulled apart, but he could still feel Walter's intense eyes on him, moving over his face and body. Then, seemingly satisfied that Joachim was displaying the proper level of submissiveness, he moved to his servant's slender neck, his tongue and teeth and lips moving over the soft skin, nibbling and sucking.
Joachim gave a purring moan, his left arm winding loosely around Walter's neck and shoulders, his right hand stroking his master's chest. He had always been glad that Walter removed his armor before coming for him, as it made disrobing the larger vampire much easier. His thinly boned hand slipped inside his master's shirt, caressing. He felt an appreciative sigh against his neck.
His knees gave out and he slid slowly to the floor, his master kneeling to stay with him. Joachim cried out sharply as his master bit him particularly hard, just enough not to break the skin.
Walter chucked at his reaction. "Just a reminder, Joachim," he whispered, pulling his servant's shirt open, exposing his exquisitely muscled torso. "You always have, and always will be, mine."
Something broke in Joachim. It was so fast, so sudden, that he almost heard the snapping noise echo in his ears. He had fully intended to cooperate, the luscious sensations clouding over any thoughts of resistance, but that one word, mine, had broken through his reverie like a stone through a glass window. The haze of pleasure he had been so ready to lose himself in burned away instantly, and dreadful rage welled up in its place. He was not a possession! He was not a slave! Joachim Armster belonged to no one!
He struggled madly, something he would before never have dreamed of doing, trying to get out from under the larger vampire. Walter, stunned suddenly by Joachim's unexplainable fit, froze. Though he was quite a bit heavier than Joachim, the smaller vampire managed to squirm free, stumble to his feet, and flee. He knew not where he was going, only that he had to get away. His feet were not even touching the ground as he zipped down the hallways, taking advantage of the vampire power of floating and flying. The back of his mind screamed that nowhere in this castle was safe from Walter, but he didn't care. He just fled.
He knew as soon as he burst through his door into the halls that Walter was right on his heels. He cursed viciously, his emotions in turmoil, dominated by his anger. He had never learned translocation, and Walter could do it in the blink of an eye. In his heart, he knew it was only a matter of time until Walter caught him, and he knew that it would not be pleasant for him when that happened. It was too late to recant, however, too late to turn back.
Walter's presence suddenly vanished, and he chanced a look behind him. Sure enough, there was no one chasing him. He halted, nervous. He couldn't have just abandoned the chase. Where would he be coming from?
A sudden blow to the back of his head made him pitch forward, knocked against the banister he stood near. He had stopped on a half-floor of a large room, and it was a fifteen- or twenty-foot drop to the main part of the room.
"What is the meaning of this, Joachim?" he heard Walter ask, his voice low and dangerous. "Just what in the hell has got into you?"
Joachim turned around, his red-purple eyes blazing. "I am not yours, Walter," he replied. "I have never been truly yours. I am my own."
"Oh…?" Walter asked, stepping closer. There was a glitter in his eyes.
"I am not a child anymore," Joachim continued, his voice getting stronger. "You have taught me so many things, but you still treat me like I know nothing!"
"Be grateful that I have taught you, servant," Walter growled.
Joachim's anger only burned hotter at being called that. " 'Servant'?!" he roared. "You have given me none of the freedoms as your other servants! It is as if you see me as nothing but your slave, your plaything!"
Walter was very close now. "Oh, but that is exactly what you are, child," he said, grinning maliciously. "That's all you ever have been, and all you ever will be."
Joachim stared at him, his eyes wide. Incomprehension turned to shock, shock to anger, and anger to hatred. His dignity and pride screamed for retribution, and he shrieked wordlessly in absolute loathing as he surged forward, wanting nothing more than to tear those mocking eyes right out of Walter's face.
A wet, grinding crunch filled his ears, and all emotion ceased as if a door had slammed shut. Walter had driven his fist forward as Joachim had leaped at him, his massive strength combining with his servant's forward motion to shatter Joachim's breastbone, his ribs snapping like a cage of matchsticks. Joachim staggered back, his eyes impossibly wide and his mouth open in pain greater than he had ever experienced before. Bloody saliva had flown at the original impact, but his body suddenly heaved in a compulsive cough, and red froth burst from his lips. He dropped to his knees, gasping and choking on his own blood, clutching desperately at his torso, as if trying to hold it together. Nearly every rib had broken, many in more than one place, and shards of bone were sticking out from his skin. His chest had almost literally become concave.
A hard heel stamped down on one of his hands, and he screamed weakly as it, too, was ground into a bloody mess. His agony went far beyond his masochism, and he felt no pleasure from this. All he knew suddenly was boundless anguish.
"My dear slave," a wicked voice purred into his ear. "You must learn to control your anger, little one." Hungry lips covered his own, tasting the bright red blood that now flowed freely down his chin. He sobbed in frustration and pain as a tongue pushed its way into his mouth. He bit down on that offending invasion, and though it couldn't have had more than a fraction of the force his bite normally had, he managed to draw blood. He would never submit.
He heard an enraged hiss, then felt a hand clench in the front of his bloody shirt and shove him backward. Pain erupted anew as he was slammed through the stone banister that was near. He felt his shoulder blades break, and his spine groaned threateningly, barely keeping from snapping as well. His upper body completely crushed, he tumbled headfirst down to the main part of the room. As he hit, he felt another sickening crunch. His skull had partially caved in, and his neck had broken.
He lay very still, unable to move. Blood pooled around him, seeping from compound fractures and bursting from his lips with every shudder and heave from his shredded lungs. Through his blurry vision, he saw Walter looming over him, watching his servant indifferently, his eyes cold and pitiless. He felt no remorse for the suffering he had caused. Finally, he kicked the mangled vampire sharply in the temple. Joachim's head snapped to the side, his broken neck bending to an unnatural degree, and he sank down into blessedly painless unconsciousness.
Joachim awoke without opening his eyes. His consciousness gradually rose up from deep sleep, the ghosts of dreams flitting around the edge of wakefulness, but fleeing if he tried to grasp them.
He was lying on his back, and he slowly reached up above him, searching. His hands touched the soft velvet lining of his coffin lid, and he felt relief flow through him. Memories of his last moments of awareness were coming back, and he was greatly calmed by the fact that he was back in his chambers. His body felt sound and whole, so he must have been sleeping for quite a while. Even vampires take time to heal from such grievous wounds as he had received.
Pushing on the lid, he opened it and sat up. There was no one in his room with him, and the hall outside was quiet. Someone had washed him and changed his clothes, then left him alone to recuperate. Faint, lingering aches could be felt in his chest and head, but he barely noticed that they were there. His limbs were stiff from lying asleep for a long time, so he stood and stretched languidly, sighing faintly as his muscles were refreshed.
It was very dim in his chamber, but his eyes could see in the faintest light. He lit some candles, then went to the wardrobe on the south wall. The clothes he was in were better suited for sleeping in than wearing about.
"You're awake, I see," a deep voice said suddenly from the door as he finished redressing. Joachim spun around, taken by surprise.
"Walter," he said, giving his lord no other greeting.
"You have greatly disappointed me, my servant," Walter said, coming inside and closing the door behind him. His voice was like ice.
Joachim did not honor that with a response. Walter seemed irked by his silence.
"I will give you one last chance to recant, Joachim," he hissed. "Refusing me this time will mean your doom."
The pale-haired vampire looked at him evenly, but his mind was in chaos. Would Walter kill him if he did not obey? Would he be completely enslaved? Or, would he be imprisoned, left to languish in the underbelly of the castle? He desired none of those things to happen, but he had a good idea what Walter meant by "recant".
"Well?" Walter purred, coming closer. His eyes had a predatory gleam in them.
Joachim backed up, meeting his eyes defiantly.
The older vampire's eyes flashed, and his hand shot out, strong fingers clamping around Joachim's chin and dragging him forward. He regarded his servant's face for a brief moment, then kissed him. It was hard, possessive, hungry.
Joachim cringed away, but was unable to break the kiss. Walter's touches and kisses had once lit a near insatiable fire in his veins, but now he felt only rage and revulsion. He wanted to get away, and get away now.
"You are trying my patience," Walter growled when he broke the kiss. He smacked the younger vampire hard when he was again met with silence. "Answer me!"
"You know my answer, Walter," Joachim practically spat, his own eyes blazing. "I have been your slave long enough. I demand that you release me!"
"You demand?" Walter repeated, smiling in that maddeningly superior way that Joachim could hardly stand to look at. "You are hardly in a position to be making demands, my child."
Fury gripped the smaller vampire at being called a child, and he was about to bark out a retort when Walter suddenly grabbed him by the throat and shoved him backwards. Joachim gritted his teeth as the small of his back hit the edge of a table, and try as he might, he was unable to keep from being bent backwards over the tabletop.
"Let go…!" he gasped, his back creaking from the angle it was bent at. Walter had gotten between his thighs, and their hips were pressed firmly together.
"Say it, Joachim," Walter hissed into his ear. "Submit to me."
"No!" Joachim replied, choking in anger.
Walter rocked against him, biting down on his neck.
Joachim cried out, squeezing his eyes shut. Despite his sudden aversion to sex with his master, sharp jolts of pleasure still shot through him. Damn it, it wasn't fair!
Walter seemed content to just take his servant there on the table, and as he began to undo Joachim's clothing, the younger vampire began to panic. No! He didn't want to become a slave! Frantically, he looked around for some way, any way, to fight back. He was in an uncomfortable position, and his master was very much on guard. The chances of escape were slim.
His eyes lighted on a weaponry display on his wall, and he stretched out his hand toward it in desperation. An unsheathed dagger flew toward his hand, pulled by the sheer force of his will, and before Walter knew what he was doing, he had caught the large knife and slashed it up and across.
Blood suddenly sprayed, getting on his arms and upper body, and the two of them stared at each other for a split second, complete shock in both of their eyes. Joachim had slit Walter's throat, slicing almost halfway through his neck.
Walter gave a gurgling cry, clutching at his neck as blood gushed forth from the horrible wound. Joachim shook off his shock and tried to flee. Something, however, caught his gaze. The Ebony Stone hung from Walter's neck. If he could claim it for himself, there would be no way Walter could keep him a prisoner here! He went for it without thinking.
His master, however, had other plans. When he saw Joachim jump toward him instead of away from him, he took full advantage of the situation. Despite the monstrous pain in his throat, he gripped Joachim hard and flung him backward, sending him almost halfway across the room before he hit the floor, skidding on his back across the smooth surface.
"You…" Walter choked, blood and rage blocking his throat. He fell upon Joachim as the smaller being tried to push himself up, slightly stunned by his impact with the floor. "You…you…you…!" He looked like a demon, his eyes burning, blood flowing freely from his throat and mouth, his sharp teeth bared like an angry cat's. He slammed Joachim down, feeling a savage pleasure at the sound of his skull connecting with the floor.
Joachim's brain exploded into light and sound as his head hit the floor, and the world spun violently. This was it. He had nothing less to lose. A small smudge of black hovered at the neck of the large blur that was Walter, and he reached for it. His trembling fingers closed around it, and he pulled as hard as he could…
Walter roared, enraged to the point of madness, and he drove his rock-solid fist against Joachim's face so hard, he felt the nose, teeth, and several facial bones shatter on impact.
Joachim barely had time to register the massive blow before he was flung back into the dark depths of his mind.
The first thing he realized as he awoke was that he was incredibly uncomfortable. It felt as if he had been flung onto a rough, wet stone floor, then just left there. The second thing he recognized was the roar of a large waterfall.
He coughed, tasting old blood in his mouth. He vaguely remembered a devastating blow to his face, so he assumed that the blood was his.
Opening his eyes, he was met with almost total darkness. The tiniest bit of light filtered into the room he was in, and even the night-sighted eyes of a vampire could barely see. He pushed himself up, stiff and achy, and several joints popped in protest as he stretched painfully.
Finally, his tired brain put everything together. Darkness, dampness, the sound of a large waterfall…he was in the castle's waterway.
"Oh, no…" he croaked, his voice hoarse. Stumbling to his feet, he launched himself at the faint outline of a door that he barely managed to see. Desperately, he pawed at the rock, seeking a doorknob, but there was none. He then dug his nails into the thin space between the door and the wall, almost breaking them off, trying to pry the door open. It would not budge.
"No…" he moaned, a hopeless dread welling up in his chest. "No, no, no, no, noooooooooo!" He howled in anger and fear, clawing and pounding at the unyielding door. He can't do this to me! He can't just lock me away! I can't be forgotten like this! His fingertips bled and his hand bones broke with the force of his anguished struggle against the rock, and only then did he sink to his knees in defeat.
His eyes stung sharply, and a hot sensation suddenly streaked down his cheeks and off his chin. He touched his face in amazement, and his raw fingers came away wet. The liquid tasted salty, and he realized with a jolt that he was crying.
Vampires can only cry once every hundred years, he remembered hearing once, and he had not cried at all in the three centuries since he had ended his existence as a human. Overwhelmed by the knowledge that he truly had become a prisoner, locked in a dark, damp dungeon to rot, he hugged himself tightly and wept bitterly. His sobs echoed in the cavernous chamber, but those faint mirrors of sound were all but lost in the roar of the waterfall.
Time meant nothing in the darkness, but he guessed that he stayed like that for quite some time. Minutes, hours, days, who could tell? Finally, he staggered to his feet and backed away from the stubbornly immovable door. His back hit something, and he stumbled and fell.
"What…?" he managed to say, swallowing thickly. His mouth and throat felt like they were made of cotton, and speaking was uncomfortable. Reaching out, his hand encountered the cold blade of a large sword.
Pushing his aching self to his feet again, he realized that the sword was indeed huge. Its point was embedded in the stone floor, but if pulled out, it would nearly be as long as he was tall from point to pommel. He looked around and saw in the dim light that there were four identical swords near him, as well. Walter must have put them down here with him.
Wanted to give me something to do? he thought snidely. "I am grateful, Master," he growled, his lip curling in sarcasm. "Very well, then." He clenched both fists at the same time, ripping the swords up from the stone floor simultaneously with his mind. They began to glow with a sick greenish light, and he rose several inches off the ground, willing the blades to rotate around him, the points angled outward and down. He gathered his power, a dark-purplish mist beginning to coalesce around him. He could not break through the seal on the door, but he could refine his powers for when he met Walter again.
The next time I see you, Walter, Joachim thought, his mind burning with a lust for vengeance, I will tear your heart from your body with my own bare hands!
Up in the throne room, the flame-haired vampire smiled. I am sure you will, servant.
OwariAuthor's Notes: Yay, I finished it. Like "Fallen Angel", this took about a week to write. It wasn't for lack of motivation, really. I was just lazy…blarg.
Anyway, how'd you like it? I enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoyed reading it. I especially hope Jule and Astro (the friend and the friend of that friend I mentioned before the fic) like it, since I had promised them I'd write it quite a while ago. Better late then never, right? If anyone has any comments, please let me know in an email or a review, onegai shimasu! Just please be nice if you don't like it. Flames do nobody good, except to inflate the flamer's ego, and you're all above that kind of bullshit, I hope.
Just a note: Joachim and Walter weren't talking to each other with telepathy there at the end. It's just that Walter wants to keep an eye on his new prisoner, and has made it so he can "read" Joachim's mind whenever he wants to. He can't get specific words, like reading a book, but he does know what the overall meaning of the thought is. Does that make sense? Anyway, Joachim probably has no idea that Walter answered. Just thought I'd let you guys know.