Disclaimer: Aside from the original characters in part or whole I don't own them, don't sue me, and don't hex me. Enjoy. This chapter includes Isabella feeding, so you know.
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, Uni isn't easy.
Chapter 12
A Vampire's Mark(ed)
The Professors said nothing else, though it was clear from their faces that they were all concerned and tentative about the entire situation. It took a few tense minutes before Poppy would even let me get up, and even then I needed Oliver's support to be able to actually leave the Hospital Wing.
On one hand I was grateful to not be in class right now, the mere thought of Docherty made me sick to my stomach, because my life in this moment wasn't complicated enough, I now had a jackass to avoid on top of figuring out the least creepy way of explaining to Oliver that without giving him a choice I had started to mark him as mine. This type of thing is not something anyone ever gives you a crash course in as either a teenager or as a vampire, but I'm willing to bet usually you at least date a person before making such broad claims. Oliver waited until we came to the stairs before turning to me.
"You realize you can't really walk properly up these stairs…." I had been so lost in my thoughts and only stared at him a moment before I looked from him to the stairs and realized what he meant.
"It's always the stairs…" Before I could say anything else, Oliver gave me a half smile and picked me up bridal style.
"You know, if I didn't know better I'd think this was becoming habit" Part of me was tempted to give him a sarcastic remark, but the truth was that being curled up to Oliver caused my brain to go foggy and it was hard to think of anything witty to say. I kept quiet as we made it up the stairs, and by the time we reached the 7th floor landing I knew I really couldn't explain much to him about the current state of the half-finished mark bite on his neck; I'd have to ask the Count.
"Here we are." Oliver gingerly and almost hesitantly if I was reading his body language accurately, set me down in front of my almost empty portrait. There was a moment where the kind witch in my portrait gave me a concerned look as I gave her the password, I knew if I needed to I could talk to her later, the portrait swung forward before I questioned her about it, though I decided to ask her later as I lead Oliver inside.
"This sort of itches, Isabella; I'm surprised Madam Pomfrey didn't check it…" There was something about the tone of his voice that made me realize Oliver is starting to come out of his stupor…this is either really good or only going to make this that much harder.
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
"I'll get you a soother in a moment. You should sit, I'll be right back." He looked for a moment like he wanted to argue but I tilted my chin up just slightly and he seemed to think twice of doing so as he sat on the couch. I sighed softly and turned to walk into my room and retrieve a balm from my drawer; it was the same one I had used on Ayden the first time I fed from her properly and it is meant to soothe the bite. I assume it will work on Oliver but to be honest, I have no actual idea if it will or not, to be fair I probably should have at least checked the book…
"Shit…" I felt my eyes widen as my hand circled around the jar and I ignored the open drawer as I rushed back to the sitting room. There on the couch where I had told him to sit was Oliver and in his hands was A Vampire Coven's Life and from the doorway I could already hear Count Lucian.
"So you're the lad who has her in a tizzy, ready to be a consort then?" I was going to find a way to bring a talking portrait back to life just to kill him again.
"Consort? Wait, tizzy? Who are you?" Oliver's expressions flitted between confusion, smugness and suspicion; on one hand I wanted to watch how this went, on the other Count Lucian wasn't about to put things in any sort of delicate manner.
"I am Count Lucian and you are a chosen consort are you not…Where is that wench…?" Oliver glared at the Count's visage in the book.
"Do not call her a wench" The full seriousness of his words caused his Scottish accent to thicken, but it was the actual anger in Oliver's glare that caused me to rush towards them.
"Its fine, Oliver… Count Lucian is from a different time and likes to push buttons…" My voice caused Oliver to glance up from the book at me, his glare slowly softening as I sat next to him. It must have been the look on my face as I reached for his right hand with my left, which caught the aforementioned Count's interest.
"Something is the matter here…" The Count looked from me to Oliver, and though I arched a brow at him I didn't reply; instead opening the jar and dipping my fingers into the balm before slowly rubbing the cream on Oliver's skin.
Oliver tensed as I started rubbing the ointment on his skin, but slowly relaxed as the itching subsided, his breathing evening out when the Count spoke again.
"You started to mark him, but he does not understand about being a Consort...What is going on, Lady Wynters?" The severity with which the good Count suddenly called me Lady Wynters was not lost on me though my mouth got ahead of me before I could stop myself.
"I bit him on impulse because I could hear his blood sing..." The moment the words left my mouth I knew I'd have a long day, Count Lucian made a sort of snorting noise at me but worse, I could feel Oliver staring at me.
"...I could have worded that better..." It was difficult to pin the look Oliver was giving me but he's paled a bit at my words.
"Aye, a bit I imagine. So...is that's what this is about?" He pointed to his neck but I could see there was a flicker of emotion in his eyes that wasn't curiosity, and his jaw muscles tensed.
"...Not entirely? I...couldn't help myself when I bit you. That's true, but I couldn't hear your blood...not really. I just..." I had been taught to be eloquent in all the time I had spent with the Wynters, but all those lessons went right out the window as Oliver focused on me. I stood instead, thinking I could better express myself if I wasn't directly next to him and tried again.
"It started on the train, when you gave me your handkerchief, I could smell you on it. And I don't mean that in a negative way..." I closed my eyes a moment, brow furrowing as I thought about the train again.
"Broom polish, pine, worn leather, fresh dirt,...it's as if I were standing over an Amortentia potion anytime I'm near you, in the same room as you...I can pick you out without seeing you if I needed to. I was upset when you picked me up, upset at that idiot Docherty wouldn't leave me alone, he makes my skin crawl and usually that's reserved for that little git Malfoy. Then the stupid tentacula biting me...but you picked me up and I haven't felt that safe in a long time, at least not that I can really remember. And you were the only thing I could focus on that didn't make me feel worse, and honestly I should have known better. Should have kept talking or thinking of anything but how safe I felt, how nice it was to be taken care of, and how good you..." I wasn't aware I was rambling and had been for some while until I felt Oliver grasp my upper arm to stop my pacing.
Turning to him I suddenly realized I needed a breath, and raised my eyebrows at him in question, the sudden thought that he might ask me to repeat myself crossed my mind and I'm pretty sure I'd rather dig a tunnel to Siberia than repeat my rambling.
"Fair enough...you didn't just start to mark me, whatever that means, or bite me just because I was there and you heard my blood. So...it was impulse but impulse based on...the beginning of something?" It was clear to me Oliver was attempting to grasp the entirety of the situation, and something in me relaxed as I realized this.
"Yes. I didn't bite you because I was hungry, which is usually why a vampire loses control...or they're horny but we should probably come back to that later. I...the Mark is serious. Vampires, proper ones are close to immortal and mate for life even if they have more than one partner. Turned vampires are more likely to mate for life depending on what they've been turned from, witches and wizards...well there's a reason Amortentia is such a bane of existence for so many people, but well...it could technically change over the years. Which is a bit of a problem simply because...the Mark is fairly permanent from what I know...But! I'm a turned Vampire, which means I-we have a bit more leeway even though I really should have told you before starting it and I'm rambling again aren't I?" I took another breath, feeling the corners of my mouth twitching into a slight smile as I notice the amused look on Oliver's face.
"That is an incredibly un-eloquent way of explaining that, Lady Wynters." Count Lucian's voice was amused though there was a slight note of disapproval, underlying it.
"Maybe but efficient?" I half shrugged as Oliver chuckled and moved to take my hand, shifting to go back to the couch.
"How much leeway, what does it actually mean?" Oliver's tone is steady and I'm slightly concerned that he's taking this so well.
"Allow me..." Count Lucian opened his book and flipped through the pages to the section about the Mark, the pages filled with ink slowly.
"A Vampire's Mark is used to identify a mate, or partner if you prefer. Vampires can have many consorts depending on personal preference and cultures, but as Lady Wynters mentioned before, most only have the one actual mate. A mate in that sense is their main partner and consort, they share a deeper and more meaningful bond than any other consort; the bond goes both ways and connects the Vampire and their mate on many levels. The mark corresponds specifically with the Vampire that gave it, the design is natural in the sense that emotional bonds are what shape it fully when it's finished. There are several stages of a Mark; the beginning stage (the one you're currently in Mr. Wood, though more needs to be done which is probably why it still itches, but I digress for the moment) can be fairly tumultuous. The Mark will be prominent, it can't be fully hidden away though it can be made to look like something else to prying eyes if necessary. It serves as a basic bond between the two of you...Lady Wynters will be able to pinpoint you within meters of your location by simply focusing on its design, it will give her a basic knowledge of your emotions and if you are in any danger Mr. Wood...It will however, also alert her if you are in a compromising situation, shall we say? With another, regardless of gender mind you...and that will have consequences for both of you. By the same standards, she will also feel it if you feel she's in that sort of situation and there is a perceived threat to your rank in regards to her. Mates, also can mark their Vampires, though that mark will not be permanent until the final phase of marking from the Vampire. You will both be able to feel each other's surges of emotions, especially in regard for one another, I would suggest setting some basic ground rules to try and head those off before they happen but they will happen so be aware of that. There is also one other thing, there is a chance Lady Wynters will not be able to feed from anyone other than you Mr. Wood, without your consent to it happening." Count Lucian spoke as the pages filled with more detailed information, I can hear my heartbeat quickening and the weight of the information settling on me as well as Oliver; I also realize that Count Lucian is specifically using that title in an effort to bolster me in this situation, I'd be more amused if I wasn't attempting to not panic at the implications. This isn't being helped by the fact that Oliver is silent, I hope I'm not showing any major emotions on my face at the moment, that would not help this situation in any way, shape or form.
Five minutes can feel like an eternity if the only sound filling the lack of words are the methodical ticking of a grandfather clock, the crackling of the fire, and the occasional shifting of bodies in fabric on leather.
"...What if I say no?" His voice was steady, and the tone honestly curious as he turned to face me; I realize the quiet was because he had been reading a good portion of the details listed on the pages, but the silence around us seems to be multiplied in my ears in the wake of the question.
"...To which part?" I feel the tension in my body, and can't help but purse my lips as I shift in my seat to face him, tucking my hair behind my ears carefully.
"Being marked...can I even say no?" His brow was furrowed but I couldn't quite read his face, or the intention behind his words.
"I...could not finish it...and I imagine it would eventually fade...but I don't know if it would also break the basic tether between us at the moment." I can feel my throat tightening, and my stomach start to turn, though I'm not lying I'm not telling him the full truth and my body disapproves.
"You're hiding something." There was a note of surprise in his tone and on his face as he realized this, and my eyes flickered for a moment to the mark on his neck which is glowing faintly. Circe help me.
"Yes. I am." There was a slight sense of relief in my feeling ill, but it's temporary, I can tell and I force myself not to look away from Oliver, though I'm unsure what he's looking for as he focuses on my eyes.
"It would be harder on you?" I'm not sure how well I can handle how calm he seems to be to this entire situation at the moment.
"Theoretically, yes." I nod, tilting my head slightly as I watch him, his brow furrows again and he looks away, his eyes looking over the book. It occurs to me, how much I hate that I was weak enough to give in to an impulse that will change his life so drastically, how I only wish I had told him about it first.
"...How slowly can we take this?" He glances back at me but it's clear the question is being posed to both Count Lucian and myself.
"The completion of Vampire marks usually take at most a year, and in some cases can be as quick as two weeks...or rather, the decision is made in two weeks, the marking itself takes roughly three months. Since it is in stages, between the stages there must be time for the mark itself to heal." Count Lucian nodded at us, resting lazily on the top of the page.
"So...we have time to properly get to know each other more? Bit like we're dating now, though...I imagine most people don't get to say that they started a relationship with a bite..." A mixture of euphoria at hearing Oliver's words, and resignation to our situation; the euphoria was mostly mine, the resignation however very much tasted of ours, and there's some form of poetic irony or something in that.
"We do...and I'm not really sure how accurate that is, you'd be surprised some of the kinky things people are into..." I offered him a half smile, feeling myself breathing a bit easier.
"Oh, trust me I have a fair idea, I do play Quidditch...and I listen to a lot of the talk in the locker room." His chuckle filled me with familiarity and comfort, and I shook my head in amusement.
"And I've heard Ayden's thoughts on a few subjects...Speaking of...do you object to my feeding from her? There are other ways for me to feed if you're uncomfortable with my continuing to feed from her." I worried my bottom lip as I watched him.
"I'm not really sure? I mean I try not to think about it in general, but I imagine I'll be aware of it happening even if I'm not around...What are the options?" I watch him shift, scooting back a bit and bringing his leg onto the couch with him.
"She could donate the blood to Madame Pomfrey, provided she's not still mad at me, and I could mix it and drink it later to keep longer. I could ask the Wynters to send me more supplies from their home...I could feed from you..." I can feel my tone slowly become huskier over the course of the conversation, feel the soft pangs of hunger at the thought of blood, and other pangs at the thought of feeding from Oliver; the smirk on his face means he's picked up on the latter as well.
"...How do you feed from someone directly? Is it like in the books and such?" There was clear curiosity from him as he attempted to look nonchalant.
"I can bite into their wrist or neck, the latter is much more intimate, the former usually done to keep some distance between the person donating shall we say? I usually have some control over what the person will feel as well, which is why rule one is to never feed when angry or starving." I shrugged slightly, running a hand through my hair slowly, trying to ignore that I'm feeling hungry. It didn't help that I was sick earlier and my stomach is now empty, maybe if I change the subject I can hold off for dinner.
"Which would you use on me?" Oh the smirk is back, the damnable smirk that makes me want to bite his lips until he moans my name.
"Which would you prefer I used on you?" I'm exceedingly tempted to crawl along this couch until I'm firmly on his lap...oh I shouldn't think that.
"I have a feeling it's only half true the wrist is less intimate, especially if you're able to control some small amount of what they're feeling." Oliver's smirking at me in a fashion that is making my stomach flutter, oh...this might be trouble.
"Would you like to compare the two?" I'm going to call his bluff, he's being flirty and just trying to make a point, so I can feel myself smirk back at him, arching a brow.
"Go for it?" The smirk hasn't left his face even as he sits up a bit more and pulls off his school sweater, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. How far would he take this?
I watch him silently, as he finished rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and undoing the first three buttons, before scooting back further on the couch so he's leaning against the armrest still facing me. I didn't move though, until of course he crossed his arms and his jaw set in defiance...he really shouldn't have done that.
Worrying my bottom lip I crawl across the couch towards him, there's a moment of hesitation when I'm close enough to straddle his lap and sit there, but once again, in for a penny in for a pound. His hands instinctively went to my waist as I settle on his lap, straddling him easily and making sure my skirt doesn't ride up too far.
"Wrist first? As far as your neck is concerned, I can bite where the mark is started." I push my hair back from my face, watching him closely to see if he'd decide against trying it.
Oliver didn't back down, he simply offered me his right wrist, so I cradled his hand gently with mine, licking across his wrist a few times my eyes not straying from his face; his eyes focused on me and I can feel him try to keep his breathing even. I sucked on his skin gently, bringing his veins closer to the surface of his skin taking my time to allow him to stop me before I take the bite. He didn't look away and for a moment I allowed myself to wonder how it was that Oliver actually saw me; opening my mouth I allow my canines to extend, not lingering on the question of how he didn't see me as a monster. Running my tongue against his skin once again, I gave in, sinking my fangs into the soft flesh near his wrist and piercing the vein, the only response was a grunting moan from him. Again, his blood sang as it coated my tongue and I slowly swallowed, occasionally rubbing my tongue flat against his skin. He sighed before letting out a slight growl of my name, shifting in his seat under me, his free hand tightening slightly on my hip as if he were worried I would move away. I wanted to lose myself entirely in the moment but forced myself to pay attention to him, not wanting to drink too much from him. I sucked softly at the wound before pulling back fully, a small trail of blood forming from each puncture wound on his wrist before I leaned in and tongued them closed.
My fangs were still protruding, as I licked my lips carefully, not wanting to leave them so obviously bloodstained, my brow furrowed when I felt Oliver's right hand moving to cup my cheek; his thumb rubbed along my bottom lip slowly, gently pressing against the bottom of each of my fangs. Instinctively, I nipped at the pad of his thumb gently, sucking softly before pulling back with a bit of a pop. It was my turn to smirk, as he groaned and shifted under me again, his left hand moving from my hip to the small of my back.
"...That was interesting...but I was right, fairly intimate." Oliver's voice when he's being smug...is addicting but still makes me want to bite his lips...among other things. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch and I couldn't help but match his smirk, slowly leaning in.
"I guess we'll see, won't we?" I kissed his cheek chastely before trailing soft light kisses down the left side of his neck, to where I had bitten him before; no point in making more bite wounds on him than necessary. I trailed my tongue lazily along the edges of the mark, smirking as I feel his heartbeat speed up and only made me press closer to him letting him wonder when I'd sink my fangs in for a few moments.
I felt his arms wrap around me loosely, his hands pressed flat on my back as he pulled me closer, it's not lost on me that even in this position, he's holding me protectively, as if I'm something precious and as nice as it feels I can't help but wonder how much is that just his intention, and how much that intention is the pull of the mark. I closed my eyes a moment before opening my mouth against the skin of his neck, opening them again when I sunk my fangs in, letting out a soft humming noise as I suckled at the wound feeling him tense in pleasure under me and memorizing the way his chest rumbles just slightly with his attempt to hold back a moan. I couldn't help but smile as I realize he's tracing patterns along my back slowly, keeping my suckling on him slow and steady as to not drink too deeply from him too quickly; I only lingered a minute or two before tonguing the wounds closed again. I gave into the urge to kiss his neck slowly, along the edges of the mark, it was still not formed enough to make out the intricate patterns, but touching the skin made it obvious the pattern in the end will be interesting to say the least.
Resting my forehead against his shoulder, I felt the weight of our situation shift, in as much as as long as Oliver was willing to attempt this...maybe, just maybe we could figure it out and I wouldn't be disrupting his life...entirely. We stayed in comfortable silence for long enough that our breathing was in sync, and it was the grandfather clock striking the hour that caused us to move.
"We should probably...get ready for dinner?" Oliver's voice brought me out of my reverie, and I realized he has been playing with the ends of my hair for awhile as I pulled back to look at him.
"Oh...yes, we probably should. We're going to have to figure out seating...and...things...And you're probably going to feel hungrier than usual...well non training usual." I offered him a half smile, and felt myself let out a breath I hadn't been aware I was holding when Oliver laughed, his body relaxed and his eyes not accusing me.