WARNING: This chapter is rated M. You have been warned.
Love or Blood
Chapter Twenty-five: Of Crooked Backs
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Janus relaxed in his chair. He was lulled into a semiconscious state by the soft rhythmic breaths coming from his bed. Abigale Lynn had fallen asleep several hours ago now. He was oddly very happy by her sleeping. He did enjoy speaking with her, it was dear to him. However the topic of his marriage left a bitter taste in his mouth. It made it hard to swallow as he chanced a look at the sleeping girl.
She had cocooned herself in the blankets; her red hair covered most of her pretty face. Though her lips were parted she did not snore nor breathe through them. One arm lay under her head and the other by her cheek. She was dreaming as he watched her. Her breath increased and she shifted a bit.
It pained him to see her so comfortable because he wished to lie beside her. To simply feel the warmth of her as she slept would be enough to appease his desires for a while. But the Count knew better than to fantasize for too long over such things. He would not lie beside her. He would not even touch her as she slept, regardless that he wanted to very much.
Janus had already written to Vicente Valteri. He had also made sure that the fastest courier was the one to take his post. The Count was not taking Abigale Lynn's molestation lightly by any means. He told Vicente that he demanded the Dark Brotherhood assailant to be brought to Skingrad where Janus could personally convict and carry out his punishment. And what a punishment it would be should Janus get his hands on the man.
The Count remembered the smell of him on Abigale Lynn's clothing. It was certainly a man who was scrupulous about his cleanliness, but not even the best of soaps could mask the smell of fresh blood to a vampire. The baker who had wronged Abigale Lynn was most certainly dead. Blood as well as the distinct coppery smell of brain matter had been wafting from the alley. The assassin literally took that bakers cap right off…
The thought made Janus uneasy, knowing that some depraved man was out there pining for his Abigale Lynn. He had killed someone for her as a show of affection. Then he proceeded to take a trophy from the corpse and gift it to her. As if she would be pleased by it!
What a romantic…
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Lucien Lachance had ridden hard to Cheydinall after his rather disappointing hour with the blonde Imperial girl. Apparently, she was not pleased by his roughness, and told him to 'finish up' or she would call the guards. So, naturally, Lucien booted her naked backside out of the room. He kept her clothes locked inside with him. He then packed his belongings and left by utilizing the pretty stained-glass window. She was lucky he felt so generous.
It was far past noon by the time he made it to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. He inhaled the cool moist air and smiled to himself. Lucien was saddened that his vacation was cut short, but he knew better than to linger in the city where a vampire is looking for you. It was worth it though, he decided, as he made his way down the dark stone steps to his Brother's room. Several of his Siblings whispered honored greetings to him as he passed.
Lucien knocked on Master Vicente's bedroom door before pushing it open.
"Why can't I?! Stupid git deserves it! That damn cat almost killed me!"
Vicente was in the middle of scolding one of the newest initiates: a young black-haired Imperial with a horrible attitude. "No Nerah and for pities sake do close your mouth! It's an apple. You're not a cow chewing grass." The girl was about to respond when she noticed her Speaker in the room. She stood quickly, bumped her hip on the table she had been seated at a moment ago, and swore loudly. Several chunks of apple fell upon her severely lacking chest. "Ah Lucien, you've returned early. It is good to see you. Miss Vlando here has been giving me a headache."
"What? I have not!" She looked angrily at Vicente but quickly noticed Lucien crossing his arms. Her dark blue eyes darted between the men. "Erm, I mean…sorry?" She shifted from one foot to the other as her Speaker approached. Once he stood before her she winced. "I'm really, really sorry?" She tried, hoping not to invoke her Speaker's wrath. Before she could speak again however, Lucien took hold of her wrist painfully until the apple she had been eating plopped into his hand.
He released her then and took a bite. She watched him fearfully and indignantly as he chewed then swallowed. "Get out." The girl bolted from the room, cursing under her breath as she went. Lucien chuckled darkly and sat in the chair Nerah had previously occupied.
"My dear Speaker you have such a way with the ladies." Vicente scoffed as he too sat down. "So what brings you back so soon? You delivered my letter, I hope?" Lucien nodded and took another bite of the apple. "That is good at least. But why are you back? Is there a bounty on your head again? You know how I hate dealing with the Thieves Guild…" But Vicente stopped speaking as he noticed a very dark but familiar gleam in Lachance's eyes.
"I simply decided not to overstay my welcome. You know how taxing the city life is." The Speaker answered nonchalantly. Vicente wasn't convinced. "But I do have a question for you, my beloved Brother." Vicente nodded but could not quell the uneasy feeling that settled in his chest. Lucien twirled the apple core in his hands "Do you want to know what she tastes like?"
"By Sithis, damn you!" Vicente sputtered as he stood abruptly. He pointed angrily at the cackling Speaker. "Damn you Lachance! What did you do?!"
Lucien hunched over the table, laughing manically. "I just—" He fought to compose himself. "I just thought she'd be a delightful conversationalist! And oh Sweet Mother was she was fiery against that wall!"
Vicente was mortified. He had never wanted to hurt the man in front him so much before. He feared for Abigale Lynn and in turn Janus Hassildor. "Please tell me she lives! I swear to the Night Mother boy, if you –"
"She's fine." Lucien smiled. "A little shocked I presume but fine all the same."
"Fine?! What on Nirn does 'fine' mean to you, Lachance?" Vicente spat, still standing with his fists clenched at his sides. "The last time you told me something was 'fine' I ended up tossing six bodies into the Niben!"
Lucien looked at Vicente innocently. "Dear Brother you wound me so with your words. If I recall correctly, it was only five bodies."
The elder vampire was not amused. "I told you not to touch her. You deliberately went against my order! My only command! How could you do that?" Vicente's mind raced as he thought of the Count and how fond he was over the young woman. If Lucien did anything to her Janus would be livid and all the fury of Oblivion would be upon the Dark Brotherhood, and rightfully so.
Oh dear.
"I am Speaker here, Vicente. My actions are my own. Did you really expect me not to play with her once she caught my gaze? That girl must be the loveliest creature I've seen in years…perhaps ever." Lucien sighed wistfully. "Dibella did a good job on that one. It's a damn shame Hassildor doesn't like to share his toys."
"You've yet to answer me, Lucien!" Vicente snapped, bringing the Speaker back to the present. "What. Did. You. Do?" Lucien wondered briefly why Vicente cared so much. He knew that his Brother and the Count of Skingrad were close, but what exactly did this girl do for them that made her so valuable?
"You like her too then?" Lucien probed. "Is that what you go to Skingrad for? One of you bends her over and the other gets the front?"
"You have exactly sixty seconds before I break our Tenants! Spit it out!"
Lucien chuckled and raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, Brother I shall tell you honestly. I only touched her a little bit - truly a paltry sum. She was awfully resistant to my advances despite my charm. So, I bumped into her again around nightfall and she reluctantly followed me into an alley. While there I couldn't help myself. But let me ease your mind, I did not force myself upon her…Well, my hands of course, but no penetration."
Vicente listened intently for signs of deception in Lucien's body and indeed there was much. "What more than that?" He demanded. "Do not try hiding from me I know when you lie." Oddly enough the Speaker felt uneasy about what he had kept from Vicente; the kiss he forced the girl to perform. He had relived it so many times since their parting. Lucien did not know why he couldn't get it off his mind. Something so innocent should be boring to him but it was not. On the contrary it felt personal and erotic. "Don't ignore me!" Vicente sputtered, still completely outraged by the entire affair.
"Nothing bad." Lucien began calmly. "I had her kiss me. Told her to pretend I was her Count. She was good and I liked it. Would have gone further too had Hassildor not found us…"
"He found you?! Dear Mother. I have to go. I have to go to Skingrad at once to set things straight." Vicente quickly began packing his things.
"You're not going anywhere. It's high noon." Lucien stated matter-of-factly.
"You're damn right I am! All it takes is a little blood." Vicente snipped as he crammed more items into his bag. "Nerah! Where did that girl run off to?" Vicente left the room in search for the Imperial girl, leaving Lucien to his thoughts.
The Speaker sat there for a long moment and again relived the soft lips of Abigale Lynn. He thought of how small she was to him and how tightly he had her pressed against his body, feeling her move beneath him…
Lucien adjusted his robes and left the room. He had a letter to write and a courier to find.
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I awoke in the unfamiliar area with a start. I was in a large bed, not my own, and had thick blankets nearly covering my head; my personal bed covers we not thick or even very long so this too alarmed me. However, before I brought myself to panic my memories from last night came to me. I remembered my trip to town, my parting with Tualga, and my encounter with a Dark Brotherhood assassin. But mostly I remembered the Count. How he came to me, how he talked with me all night, and how he had me stay in his own bed, just so he could keep watch over me.
I rubbed my eyes and propped myself up onto my side and glanced around the large room before me. All was dark, there were no candles lit and all was silent. My eyes searched the blackness for any source of movement but found none. I wondered where the Count was and felt a small bit of apprehension. I had only once been alone in the Count's room before. Despite me no longer fearing the Count as much as I had, being alone in his bedchamber still made me feel ill-at-ease.
Finally I swallowed hard and called out softly into the dark. "Sir?" There was no answer so I tried again. "Sir, are you in here?"
When I again was met with silence my unease grew. I groped around in the darkness until I found the Count's robe. I slipped it on while still in bed and then wriggled free from the blankets. The stone floor was cold on my bare feet but helped wake me. I tried using my memory to make my way around the room. I stumbled forth until I reached the foot of the bed and grabbed the large bedpost. I squinted into the darkness and saw what I believed to be the Count sitting in his chair.
I pulled my robe closer and stepped forth. I wanted to light a candle but wasn't sure if the Count would be pleased by me assuming that I could simply use whatever I wanted of his. So in the darkness I padded along quietly to the other end of the room. Upon further inspection of his chair I realized that no one was in it at all. I placed some strands of hair behind my ear nervously as I again looked around.
"Sir?" I whispered and then to my great surprise, a hand reached out and took hold of my wrist.
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The Count had decided to rest his eyes for a moment while he listened to Abigale Lynn breathe softly. He imagined the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the steady but strong heartbeat within it. He thought of how beautiful and pale her hands were as they were relaxed beside her cheek. Then somewhere along the line of innocent visualizations and lustful imaginings he fell asleep.
Janus knew he was dreaming as soon as it began. He mentally scolded himself for dosing while he was supposed to be watching over Abigale Lynn. She had just been such a relaxing visage that it could not be helped. The dream would run its course and then he would awaken.
He stood in a dining hall that vaguely resembled his own. A large feast lay before him much like the one he envisioned when talking to Abigale Lynn. As he approached and looked closer, his stomach turned. The food before him was rotted and infested with insects. Maggots squirmed, flies buzzed and cockroaches feasted.
He winced, feeling ill, and turned away. Then as he looked down a long corridor he saw his wife, briskly walking away from him. In his nightmares seeing Rona was a sign of things to worsen. But still he felt compelled to follow her, so he did so.
Again this Castle was much like his own, but all was a little crooked and wrong. He walked down the tilted hallway silently, keeping a good distance from his wife.
Then Rona stopped and turned to him. She was beautiful like she was when they first met, and young, so young. He was puzzled though by the way she stared at him and by the way he could almost see through her. Rona slowly lifted a hand and pointed to a closed door. He watched mystified as it began to open. The ominous creek it bellowed sent chills up his spine.
Janus slowly approached his wife and the opened door. He chanced a look inside to where his wife was pointing and gapped. The room was covered in blood, there was bits and pieces of flesh and bone littered across every surface; from floor to broken furniture. And there, in the middle of it all was Abigale Lynn. She was turned away from him, weeping while crouched over a body - no doubt some unknown loved one. She was wearing his oversized shirt but it too was soaked with blood. His heart sank at the sight.
He went to her side, the need to comfort her was overwhelming. He reached out to her. "Abigale Lynn."
The crying ceased as though it was never crying at all. Her head whipped around to him, the entirety of her eyes was a soulless black. Her upper lip was curled and she had fangs, they were bared at him and bloodied. In her blood-soaked hands she held what was left of a person's limb. She was not only drinking the dead blood but feasting on the flesh as well.
She turned to him and her movements were jerky and wrong, her lifeless black eyes burned into his face. Her mouth opened and a horrible manlike scream tore through her throat. She trembled with violent furry as she continued to scream, cold blood falling from her lips.
Janus stumbled back as she swiped at his legs; she clawed her way across the soaking red floor towards him, slipping and growling in the process. His back hit something then and he turned quickly to see Rona, petrified, gaunt, and terrible, glowering at him. Her eyes were equally black and she cursed at him with a hideous shriek "CLEAN IT UP!"
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The Count held my wrist in a vice like grip. His eyes were shinning in the dark and he looked afraid. I grabbed at his own hand which was currently sending horrible jots of pain to my already bruised wrist. "Sir!" I whined, trying in vain to free myself. I was afraid he'd break my bones.
He let me go then but his hand was trembling. The Count must have fallen asleep on the sofa and had a bad dream or something of that like. He was positively disheveled. His eyes darted back and forth and he was panting – something I knew he did not need to do. He looked me over warily. "Sir?" I questioned gently while massaging my wrist. I took a step backward, I felt the need to comfort him but I wasn't sure what state of mind he was in. "Y-you're panting, Sir. And you look feverish. Should I get the Stewardess?"
"No." He said shakily. Though it was dark I could see his Adams apple dip lowly as he gulped. He was very frightened but trying to force composure. "Start a fire or candle. I need light so do so quickly."
I did not hesitate. I knew by memory that a small decorative flint box always laid on the end table by the sofa. I grabbed it and proceeded to light all candles around him and then the fireplace followed. After a few moments we were both bathed in soft yellow light but the Count still did not look himself. "What more can I do, Sir?" I asked automatically. I felt compelled to help him but did not know how, nor did I know exactly what was wrong.
"Get the black bottle from the cabinet. Don't bother with any goblets, just the bottle." I obeyed and retrieved the large black wine-like bottle. He gestured for me to sit and I did so. I watched as he murmured a quick incantation and steam slowly began whispering around the bottle. Then he pulled the stopper from it with his teeth – I noticed his fangs were bared slightly, not fully. He then pressed it to his lips and drank and drank and drank. I did not need him to tell me what was in the bottle. I knew full well that it was blood.
Watching him drink the red swirling liquid made me feel a little ill at first, then a little uncomfortable; like I was witnessing something private. However within less than a minute the bottle that was as long as my forearm and twice as thick was emptied.
The Count was still acting so unlike himself as he placed the bottle on the small table before us and wiped his mouth crudely on his sleeve. I said nothing and tried my best not to notice the small red streak on his clothes. "A terrible dream." He said suddenly, breaking the silence of the room. "A very terrible dream." I watched him shudder and felt terrible. I had never seen the Count so afraid before.
"What can I do to help?" I asked earnestly. I wanted to take his fear away.
"Just…just sit there as you are now. It helps me greatly." I nodded and watched him lean back into the sofa. His eyes scanned the room, he was still on alert for whatever had scared him so. After a moment he spoke again. "Vampires," he began tiredly. "Are cursed with horrifyingly vivid nightmares. It is a rare occasion to have a good dream or none at all. That, however, was by far the worst I've had in some time. I'm sorry if I frightened you."
"It is alright, Sir." I played with the tie of the robe. I felt no need to mention my still throbbing wrist. I doubted that he knew how much effort was put behind that grab. "Would it be comforting for me to remind you that it was just a dream?"
"No." He said quickly but I was pleased to see him smile slightly. "However I thank you for your sentiment."
"Please don't thank me. It is the least I can do to bring you any comfort after all you have done for me." I smiled back at him.
"I apologize for being a poor watchmen…although it seems I had only been asleep for half an hour. Funny, it felt like so much longer." He shook his head and stared into the fireplace. "I've been avoiding sleep for so long now that it feels natural. But listening to you dream made me so humanly tired." He smirked at me. "It was very strange. It captivated me so, having you breathe so rhythmically."
His little smirk caused my stomach to flutter but I tried to dismiss it. Then I was reminded of how very naked I was, in naught but a robe and shirt. I swallowed, "I really do appreciate all that you've done for me, Sir. I've no way to reciprocate your kindness to me, I wish that I did." I laughed a little then. "I don't think I've slept that well in years, your bed was so warm."
"That is because the bed in its entirety is Nordic. It certainly helps on these still cold nights. Additionally, despite the season the Castle is always a bit chilly. Has been since I can remember."
Indeed I felt the chill immensely then, just sitting in a robe, despite the fire. "I beg your pardon, Sir but while we are on the topic of the chill…is there any way I can get my clothes?"
Authors Notes: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. The next has a very small time jump so it was necessary. ALSO I am working on another project (not related) so I might space my updates out a bit. R&R if you like!