AN: Yeah, yeah, it took forever, I know... Really, though, lots of things have kept me busy (boring, real life stuff) but I haven't forgotten about this fic!
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine...
Previously:
Although the blond knew not what his future held, if he were allowed a friend in this alien place—and a boy his own age, at that—perhaps…perhaps it would not be so frightening, even if it were certain to be strange.
Roxas held onto that warmth as Axel spoke to Riku of what the boy presumed were political or some other such serious matters, as both vampires sobered in their exchange. He settled himself comfortably against his fiery-haired keeper's body, to tired to follow any more goings-on in this mysterious new place; the little human was content for the moment to watch the glistening dancers twirling in the fluttering lights.
x.X.x
Roxas was dreaming. He was warm and lazy and relaxed, and he was dreaming of sunshine on his face, caressing his eyelids until the golden haze enveloped his mind in a cocoon of bliss. A pleasant tingle of heat tickled his cheeks and neck. A playful breeze chased the tingled away and swept through his flaxen locks.
So wonderful, he thought. He could imagine that he was feeling soft, down filled pillows beneath his head as he floated in a sea of frothy blankets. No cruel father to beat him. No villagers to pity him. No pain, no blood, no vampires...
Roxas bolted upright with such force that his teeth rattled. His heart pounded and blood rushed in his ears as he recalled the strange night in the arms of the vampires' king. Slowly he remembered the eerily beautiful party, sitting in the lap of the mysterious monarch as various vampires presented themselves. He remembered the click-clack of heeled shoes on marble floors and predatory eyes and marble skin. He remembered sparkling jewels and the cold night air and a young human boy with ruddy cheeks and wild hair who mingled happily with the crowd of white immortals. And he remembered his own sleepy eyes, misty and unseeing, as he was carried, carried away by that same king...
And then Roxas was confused, for he seemed to have awoken but remained dreaming of sunshine; his stinging eyes reassured him, however, that the light was, indeed, real.
The boy allowed his breathing to calm. The light, balmy air came through an open window and eased his mind.
In truth, he had nearly forgotten about the sun's light, or more likely, had bid goodbye to the yellow rays at the first true understanding of his keeper's nature. He had awoken to find day in this place once before, but he had been fevered then. This time, it seemed so much more...real. And Axel was asleep now, as was the belief. The daylight would bind him to whatever darkness he chose for rest.
"Good morning, my lord! Did you sleep well?"
"Gaah!" Roxas, so engrossed in his thoughts and still in the process of waking, startled, his body nearly falling to the hard floor as his legs tangled hopelessly in the sheets. He hadn't heard the door or the girl.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, my lord!" the girl cried as she rushed forward to the gasping boy. "Are you alright?"
"Y-Yes," Roxas breathed through trembling lips. Frustration welled in him; every little bump seemed to set him off lately. It was becoming positively humiliating now that he was lucid enough to realize it! If only that lucidity would reach to his senses, he thought…
"Are you well, my lord?"
Roxas broke out of his aggravation then. The girl's voice was timid and shook a little and she held her breath as if she were afraid that any more unforeseen movement on her part would further break the little human lord. He dimly recognized her from the previous day, particularly the lacy piece she wore on her head.
He smiled just a little and nodded, and she seemed to visibly relax.
Once again she set about to bringing him breakfast in bed, and once again Roxas accepted it all awkwardly, partly for not knowing how exactly to refuse the service and partly because the dished placed under his nose left little room in his mind for thinking. His stomach took charge and he found himself eating with much fervor. Sleep had done his body good; any lingering nausea was mostly pushed aside as it accepted the delicious nourishments of pastries and cheeses and things that Roxas could not name and did not particularly care to at that moment.
As breakfast began to wind down, the servant began to remove the plates and silverware and Roxas slipped back into his head. He felt awkward again, here in this place that still made him shiver with anxiety at its vastness and magnitude and opulence, not to mention the nocturnal residents. What to do now?
The click-clack of porcelain and silver quieted and footsteps approached the bed once more.
"After you finish your breakfast, my lord, the Master, his Majesty, has said that you are free to explore the castle as you wish. His Majesty only commands that you do not enter the west wing; the rest is free for your enjoyment."
That piqued Roxas interest.
"What's in the west wing?"
"I…I do not know, my lord," she responded stiffly. "I was only told by his Majesty that it is forbidden. But please do not be disheartened!" she continued with renewed mirth, "the castle contains excellent diversions of all sorts! The Master has a beautiful collection of art in the gallery, and largest library on the continent..."
Roxas bit his lip and his face heated.
The servant girl saw his discomfort and decided not to press that topic.
"But it is a very lovely day outside, my lord," she picked up, "and winter will be coming quite soon; his Majesty keeps a vast menagerie and the gardens are lovely now and full of roses! A little sunshine would bring some color to your cheeks, my lord, if I may say; the Master would be most pleased."
Roxas looked out the window again, at the cobalt sky beckoning him. Fatigue still nagged at his body and mind but he pushed it away. He was wary of his place in the strange castle and he was restless a bit now, resentful of the weakness that plagued his limbs, and so made the decision to get out of the plush bed.
The servant smiled when the boy looked at her and nodded.
As she began to bustle about the room, opening drawers and doors, Roxas nervously removed the covers and slipped his feet to the soft carpet on the floor of the bedside. His trembling hands grasped his thigh when the motion irritated the wound that he had nearly forgotten was there. He briefly replayed the encounter by which the puncture was received and fought to avoid the tell-tale blush that was beginning to heat his cheeks. He noted offhandedly that he had been dressed in a clean gown, free of blood. After wiggling his toes in the fine rug, Roxas chanced standing.
The young maid returned from her round about the spacious chamber carrying armfuls of fabric, all blue and sliver and shimmering.
There was a shert of soft cotton with billowing sleeves, impossibly sheer socks to the thigh (three pairs, in blue, silver, and cream), two long sleeved doublets and one with no sleeves (in colors that matched the socks), three matching trousers (ones as long as the shin, ones that stopped at the knee, and a short puffed pair that went no further than the middle of the thigh), and a variety of dazzling shoes—slippers and little heels, with sharp and round and tapered noses. Roxas had never seen so many fine pieces of clothing in his old life and could barely connect that these things in front of him were small enough for a child—for him.
"These belonged to Lord Riku's charge, Sora, when he was a bit younger. His Majesty wishes you would wear them, my Lord, until the tailor has fitted you a wardrobe if your own." Roxas gaped.
"His Majesty will send for the tailor as soon as the young lord is well," she continued with a smile. "Please wear these for the moment, my lord; the sizing should be quite close…" The boy didn't know what to do as she fussed with various garments, approximating which would fit his slight frame best. He was relieved when she seemed to settle on a deeper blue ensemble.
As she reached for him, Roxas tensed involuntarily. The servant's hands halted in their journey and returned to rest awkwardly at her sides once more.
"I shall…go fetch a comb for you, my lord…" With that she disappeared, leaving Roxas to himself. The boy glanced momentarily at the vanity and its two combs and brush before resigning himself to the abundance of fabric waiting for him.
Roxas sighed inwardly. He was stuck in a strange place with even stranger residents, in a nightshirt that was surely worth more than him in his old life. What was there to do but dress?
x.X.x
Roxas didn't wait for the maid to return. His curiosity overwhelmed him and he left the lavish bedchamber to explore. Perhaps he would find a way out?
The halls looked different in the daylight; nothing was quite familiar in the gentle dawn. He had remembered vast ceilings and great paintings and light, but this was quite different. It had been bright and beautiful, yes, but something was missing now. There was no sign of the ominous shadows and hidden corners from the previous night. This place just didn't seem like it housed an ancient vampire. Surely Roxas could not have dreamt such a thing?
But there was more. Something else was amiss. The halls felt too cold…too empty. Lifeless.
Roxas shook the eerie feeling and continued in a random direction.
The castle was like a maze. For every turn, there were three more and no one of them seemed to lead to a previous path. There were also no other people to be met.
Drawing up some bravery—and with no apparent watchers—Roxas begun opening the occasional doors he came across. He found little of interest mostly, just sitting and drawing rooms, although the music room with its ornately painted pianoforte and gilded harp. He could not find the library of which the servant girl spoke, although that was just as well, he supposed…
As he roamed the vast palace, Roxas thoughts turned to the strange puzzle that was vampire Axel. His mind warred against itself.
He's a vampire!
But he hasn't done anything cruel…he hasn't hurt me…
Red flashed on the fingers and hands in the boy's mind.
He bit you! He drank your blood! You were almost killed!
But I wasn't killed…he let me live. He fed me, and put me in a warm bed…
You should have never left home!
Roxas startled at the bitter snort that he unwittingly let out.
Home? Right, I forgot how much I love a good beating and starvation and freezing to death on a dirt floor.
On and on Roxas battled his mind as he wandered aimlessly through the great halls and spacious rooms. A sudden slam behind him shook him out of his tumultuous thoughts and he turned towards the source of the sound.
It was the brunette boy from the party, Sora.
The blonde stilled in his tracks as he gauged what the newcomer would do. Should he run? The boy wasn't particularly threatening, thought Roxas, but in this place, looks did not appear to be completely honest.
But then the other boy smiled and raised his hands in an appeasing gesture, and Roxas felt the anxiety roll of his shoulders.
Sora moved to cross the distance between them with an easy gait. His hair was scruffy as Roxas remembered, at odds with the bright twinkle in his eyes. He radiated good humor and health. His clothing, similar to Roxas' own, showed the light wear of his daily activities, though was still in far better shape than the blonde's outfit (for Roxas had never dressed in so many layers all at once, and all by himself at that).
"Hello!" called the brunette.
"H-Hi…" answered the blonde shyly.
"I just had class. Mathematics. Sooo boring!"
"Class?"
"Yeah. My master said his Majesty will send you to class, too. When you're better, I mean… er, feeling better!"
Roxas laughed despite himself. He found the dark haired boy was easy to talk to and naturally friendly. He decided he might like to learn lessons with this boy. Whether he would be allowed to participate once Axel and the tutor found out how much education he didn't have….
For now, he wouldn't think about it. Instead, he listened as Sora opened up more and more with each word, chatting freely about the tutor and the castle and the various things he would have rather been doing had he not been stuck in a lesson for an hour. They walked together amiably.
Roxas allowed Sora to lead as he hung back a moment to observe. Sora seemed to be walking strangely, limping in a way that he could not recall as part of the brunette boy's gait the evening they had first met.
"What's wrong with your legs?"
Sora stopped and turned to face the blond. He blushed. With a shy smile he said, "my master punished me for the ball…" He did not seem put off by this. Roxas did not understand but said nothing.
The pair continued in silence until they reached the gardens, Sora sporting an indecent grin the whole way.
x.X.x
The afternoon slipped into evening before either boy realized.
After they had reached the gardens, Sora had coaxed Roxas into a spar, using sticks to stand in for swords. The blond had been timid and uncertain at first but quickly fell into the easy rhythm of the game under the enthusiastic tutelage of the other boy. Soon the pair were laughing and chasing one another through the roses and into the orange grove, past fountains and statuary.
Roxas had forgotten all about running away and escaping. Once he was outside, he saw that the countryside was completely alien, and that the castle was perched atop a great hill and no view seemed familiar. But it was green and lush and beautiful, and the sky was blue as a cornflower, and the air was clean and crisp and fresh.
When the sun had reached its zenith, smiling servants fetched the boys to lunch on the terrace. Roxas nearly licked his fingers clean of the delicious roasted potatoes and crunchy green vegetables and succulent roasted bird that Sora called a "pheasant."
Then they went back to playing. Roxas began to tire as they ran past the lake on the grounds, angering many a duck on their way. The sun had begun to set by the time Sora had them running into the forest and Roxas became apprehensive. But he simply hadn't the courage to tell his new friend of his foreboding.
The blond boy forgot his apprehension in favor of the newfound fun he was having, weaving around massive tree trunks and jumping over low hanging branches. He had stopped for a minute to catch his breath, and when he looked up he was alone.
A shard of panic wedge itself into Roxas' chest as he looked around helplessly for Sora, but his companion was nowhere to be seen.
"Sora!" he called out, over and over, but there was no answer. Had he gone back? Roxas turned around and began sprinting towards the castle…but he realized that he had no idea which way the castle was. All of the trees looked identical and there were no footprints left by his soft slippers in the soil and leafy debris of the forest floor. Roxas was lost.
x.X.x
The forest seemed to swallow the light, for even the last tendrils of the sun seemed to disappear, though Roxas was sure it was still a little while until the darkness of dusk. A cold wind seemed to pick up from within the blackening trees, chilling his slender frame to the teeth. And it was quiet…much too quiet. Roxas' own breathing dominated his hearing range, alongside the unsteady crackling of fallen flora beneath the youth's feet.
Roxas walked and walked, but the thicket deepened. He had been looking for the way out for hours to no avail. The little light that had provided some tie to the safety of the castle gardens had disappeared completely now, leaving darkness to swallow the young boy wholly.
Cold and fog began to creep upon to forest floor. But the icy chill that crept up Roxas' back had little to do with that. Night fell and with it came company.
Sound was Roxas' first inclination that he was not alone. Whereas before the only noise came from his own footsteps, now there was a cracking that followed him as he stumbled his way past the looming leafy giants.
Soft rumbling caught the boy's ears next. All around it seemed to be, low and distant at first until it became louder and closer and he almost felt the hoarse breath beneath his skin.
When hungry, yellow lights revealed themselves from between the trunks, Roxas took off running.
Shadows blurred together as the boy ran for his life. Angry branches grabbed at his doublet and swatted his body like whips. Thorns shredded his hose and stung delicate skin.
The lights advanced and were joined by the furious beating of agile limbs.
Roxas didn't dare look back. Exhausted and mindlessly frightened, he kept running. Sweat poured down his face and inflamed the cuts there. A bitter, metallic taste made its way onto his tongue; blood poured freely down his cheeks and past his lips and Roxas startled, just for a moment, a moment in which a root caught his foot and he was no longer running, but falling, falling, falling.
As Roxas skidded to a stop in the dirt, a weight landed upon him and flipped him forcefully onto his back faster than he could understand. For a moment he only breathed heavily, feeling the air burn past the cage of his ribs and the flittering heart within. When his wide blue eyes met with glowing yellow ones, he screamed.
The shrill sound echoed across the forest as Roxas met face to face with his assailant. Soulless eyes searched the boy for the source of the blood, deformed lips curled back in a spiteful smirk revealing obscene fangs upon fangs. Foul breath reached the youth's nose and he fought the urge to wretch.
Enormous claw-hands grasped Roxas' shoulders and forced themselves past his doublet and shert and into his flesh and dug until the boy had run out of strength and air to scream and succumbed to agony. The only sound now was the boy's ragged breathing and the snarls coming from the monster upon him, and then of his kin—more yellow eyes that approached from each and every side that Roxas' eyes darted to.
The pain was blinding. Indescribable. Unimaginable. It knocked the remaining air from the boy's lungs and left him teetering on the edge of madness. The creature appeared to cackle in its way at the youth's tears. It extended another set of fangs, longer and more massive than the rest from its snout-like face, widened its jaws, and growled.
Roxas squeezed his eyes shut, but the parting pain he expected never came.
The pain in his shoulders escalated as the claws pinning him to the forest floor were removed suddenly and none-too-carefully, then began to ebb into an empty throb.
There was a dull crack that reverberated through the ground, the undercurrent to the hideous howl and the snapping of jagged jaws.
His shoulders hurt terribly, but Roxas recognized that he was no longer pinned in the dirt. He opened his eyes and prepared to steel himself for a desperate attempt to escape the forest once more, but what he saw first stopped him.
Axel faced away from him. Trapped between the vampire and a great looming tree was the beast, it's oversized claws dripping with blood and traces of flesh from, what Roxas realized with abject horror, were his shoulders. But more frightening was the similar claw that held its neck, belonging to no other than Axel himself.
Roxas' heart pounded in his temples as he took in the sight of the silk-clad vampire king, his hands deformed into sharp, elongated claws as they pressed the dark animal into the cradle created by the tree—the broken tree. Shards of wood jutted out of the howling creature as it struggled pathetically against the vampire's grip. Axel must have slammed it into the tree. That must have been the crack I heard…
With a nauseating breaking, Axel removed his claws from the slouched, quieting monster and let it fall limply to the gnarled roots. It didn't move anymore.
Axel turned his head in Roxas' direction then. Roxas was petrified as he took in his master's frightening appearance—talon-like claws, snarling mouth showing an obscene number of sharp teeth in addition to his customary fangs, bright and ice cold eyes full of rage. But those eyes didn't look at the boy, but past him instead.
Then suddenly, in a blur of red mane, Axel launched himself past Roxas and slammed into another snarling beast midair. It didn't stand a chance. Axel stood over it in a crouch as it released a howl not unlike its companion; Axel had the remains of its eyes in his claws, which he brandished momentarily before plunging them back into the throat of the beast.
More dark beasts came, intent on attacking the vampire in pairs and trios. All met similar fates as Axel danced them into the waiting arms of gruesome death, graceful and elegant and terrifying and too fast for Roxas to follow clearly. Soon there was silence.
Roxas didn't know what to expect as Axel finally turned to face him. Instinctually he tried to scramble backwards, but the pain in his shoulders quelled his attempts almost immediately and he fell onto his back onto the dirt and foliage.
Axel advanced on the petrified boy slowly, all teeth and eyes and claws. This time Roxas couldn't even blink; this was not a forest-dwelling antagonist. This was Axel, the vampire, the aristocrat, the regal creature with soft hands and kind eyes that Roxas had begun to warm up to. But here he was so like the snarling things that so cruelly tried to tear him apart.
So foolish, thought the boy bitterly.
The dark, clawed hand of Axel reached towards him as its owner crouched on his haunches barely a breath away. Roxas thought that Axel would kill him now, too, expected to be the next thing those claws punctured. But instead of talons, soft fingers traced his jaw and moved a strand of soiled hair out of the boy's eyes.
Axel's own eyes had lost their deadly sheen and became familiar once more. The claws had melted away. The fangs retreated and left only a small, sad smile in their wake.
P.S. Love it? Hate it? Found a typo? Let me know! I'm already working on chapter 7, so be patient, everyone!