Symphony 3: Suavis Revenge (Sweet Revenge)
Disclaimer: The Maiden of Autumn owns nothing.
Thank you to all the readers and reviewers- please, continue to enjoy the story.
Summary: After a composition of L's is ripped off and his position as oneof negland's best composers threatened, it spurs L to create a totally new and utterly perfect piece- which shows up all his previous works and that of the man's who ripped him off. However, at the after-party of the concert that L and Light attended to conduct L's piece personally, L is approached by the would-be usurper. What is said upsets L greatly, and Light's protective instincts kick in, leading him to dispose of L's competition, the same man who slighted his Accorded. Along the way, Light contemplates his slowly-changing feelings for the now 17-year old composer, leading him to a certain protectiveness over the teenager, a protectiveness that leads him to do soemthing that he would consider questionable under normal circumstances.
"No."
Toss.
"That's not right…"
Toss.
"What the hell is this…?"
Toss.
"Wrong key…"
Toss.
Light opened the door to L's workroom, swiftly dodging another piece of crumpled composer's paper being tossed over the teen's shoulders with an irritated flick of his wrist. It sailed past him and out the door, and Light's head turned to watch it calmly land on the carpeted halls of L's estate. It bounced a few times before it came to a rolling stop in the middle of the hall.
Sighing, Light shook his head, dismissing it for the moment. No doubt he'd have to pick it up later, but for right now, the vampire couldn't be bothered. He had more interesting things to attend to.
Interesting things with the name of L.
Instead, he finished making his way into the room, closing the door behind him and wading through the mess of rejected papers scattered about the floor with practiced ease. He had long grown used to this sort of thing since he had first come to the now 17-year-old's home to become his assistant.
He ignored L's irritated mumblings in lieu of swiping a few crumpled papers off of the stuffed, burgundy-red chair in the corner. Ignoring the way L's free hand came up to tug at long, inky-black locks in frustration, Light calmly picked up a newspaper that was lying on the table next to his chair, opening it with a snap and flipping a few pages until he got to the section he wanted.
"Dominick Tracey was featured for his piece last night," Light commented casually, flicking up his amber eyes to the pale man crouched on the bench in front of the piano.
L's mutterings only increased, his black eyes narrowing as he wrote on the piece of paper in front of him, occasionally pausing to hit a few keys on the piano before picking up his quill again only scribble furiously on the paper in front of him.
Disappointed at the response he received, Light pressed on. "Apparently, his DanzaDelle Diume- Dance of the Feathers- recieved quite the high number of reviews. Even though it was a rip-off of your own Valzer dei Cieli, Waltz of the Heavens."
At his words, L's head snapped up, his black eyes narrowed in fury. "I know that!"
Light simply chuckled and raised the newspaper back up to cover his face, a small spark of pleasure at nettling the usually apathetic teen warming his heart. As much as L deliberately annoyed him, it was always a small, sweet victory when he could return the favor to L.
"He's made quite a stir among the English gentry- they're saying that he might just be in a position to surpass your own greatness, L."
Light laughed as he dodged a piece of crumpled paper chucked right at his head. L glared at him before dismissing him with a haughty flick of the wrist. He bent over his paper once more, a scowl marring his pale features. Light knew from experience that the wheels in L's head were churning as he did this- it was L's way of thinking.
From L's fervent jerks of his wrist as his quill scratched across the paper, Light could see the red marks that had adorned L's wrist since the first night he had taken his blood. While they had healed well, they only became inflamed time after time as Light took blood from the teen.
L seemed to have beome much more receptive to his taking of the boy's blood- while he still seemed uncomfortable when Light did so, he was not nearly so fearful as he had been, and it had settled into a comfortable routine of Light feeding off of L every three nights. And in return, Light kept L company when eh was working and ran numeorus errands into town and about the estate as well.
L's sudden words broke Light from hsi thoughts, and he tilted hsi head to look at L, who was starign at him thoughtfully, dripping pen held thoughtfullyin his hand. "He has threatened my postition as the world's greatest composer..." L trailed off, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling as his other hand came up to his lips, mouthing and nibbling at it.
"Well, what are you going to do about him?" Light enquired, raising a brow. "He has shown you up..."
"And it would be quite rude not to return the favor," L finished, a smile quirking his pallid lips upwards.
"There's a concert to be performed two weeks from now," Light told him, glancing back at the paper still held in his hands. Internally, he was pleased- it would have been most disappointing if L had simply stewed in his anger, instead of utilizing it and acting upon it. But then again... the former was not L's way- an eye for an eye, the teen had always said, and Light knew this time to be no different from all the other times wrong had been done unto L.
"Two weeks…?" L mused, removing his thumb from his mouth and wiping it onto his button-up shirt that had the sleeves rolled up. It was splattered with ink, and there were a few drops on his ear as well, but the paper itself where L composed his masterpieces was pristine, every note and line drawn with graceful strokes and much consideration.
While L didn't take great care in grooming himself, he did take great pride in his work, and the paper that his compositions were birthed on were spotless and beautiful works of art. It was something Light had come to respect about L, that he cared so much about what he did that he would not suffer a single misplaced blot of ink on any of his paper.
He had known L to throw whole pieces of paper away for a single mistake and start all over again, re-doing hours of work just to make sure everything was perfect before he sent them off.
"That is not much time to construct a piece of music worthy to make Dominick Tracey's ears burn with shame upon being shown up…" Light raised an eyebrow at this- he knew L better than that. He would not give up so easily.
And it turned out Light was right when L continued, taking up his quill once more and shrugging. "But I have worked miracles upon shorter notice than this before." He stuck the quill in between his teeth and carefully picked up the still ink-wet piece of parchment he had been working on, taking a pinch of sand and dusting it over the wet ink.
He waved a hand gently over it, letting the ink absorb the gritty sand and dry so it wouldn't smear, before painstakingly rolling it up, tying it with a piece of ribbon, and held it out while he removed the quill from his mouth. "Take this to the library, where all the other unfinished pieces are stored. I've been hit quite suddenly with an inspiration for a new piece of music that shall certainly blow London away."
Light set aside his paper and standing, went over to the piano and took the rolled-up paper, raising his eyebrow. "Do you want me to come back?"
L nodded, his attention mostly focused on the task before him. "Yes- you give me inspiration at odd moments, and for being quite illiterate in music, you actually have quite a good ear and can be quite helpful."
Light snorted- musically illiterate, indeed. Just because he couldn't care less about the difference between cadenza and concerto…
"Do you want me to bring you anything back when I come? Cake, coffee, tea…?"
L looked up, rolling his eyes at Light's useless question. "You know I don't eat or drink anything in here or when I'm working on a piece. I refuse to take the chance of smudges from leftover food on my fingers or the chance of spilling food or drink on my paper."
Well. So much for chivalry.
"Well, I just thought you might be hungry- you haven't eaten all day, being holed up in here since the early hours of the morning as you've been…"
"Ah… that reminds me…" L suddenly stilled in his writing, his pen slowly coming to a stop as he craned his neck to look up at Light. "…You have not fed for a few nights…" His black eyes flitted back to his new piece before he sighed and started to set his quill aside, shifting out of his crouch. "I suppose I can put this on hold for a night or so…"
"No, L," Light said, shaking his head and stepping back, unfinished piece of music grasped tightly in his hand. "You finish that- it's more important than a single meal. I feel quite well right now. Maybe if you get that finished early on later in the week, I'll take up your offer."
"But the Accord…"
"I don't need blood right now, L. I shall be fine. I want you to finish that, and then you can go about your duties as being my meal again," Light said, smirking. He was trying to get the teen somewhat nettled so that he would forget about feeding Light- being called Light's meal always seemed to do the trick, and this time around was no exception.
L's eyes narrowed, irritation sparking in them at Light's term for him, and he tossed a piece of crumpled paper right at Light, pointing his quill at the door imperiously. "Out of my sight and to the library, vampire!"
"As you wish, mon petit repas," Light laughed, ducking out of L's messy workroom as the teen threw another piece of paper at him in annoyance upon being called Light's "little meal." Light smirked as he heard a few curses directed at his retreating back, pleased that he had been sufficiently able to distract L.
For in truth, Light was feeling quite fine right now. L's blood sustained him for a good few days, and he had taken it just two days ago. There was a slight feeling of hunger that was starting to make itself known in Light's stomach, but it was nothing he couldn't ignore- he had felt much worse hunger before for a much longer time than this.
So he'd be fine. Though it pleased him that L cared enough to put aside his work in order to take care of Light's needs. But logically, he knew that it was mostly because L didn't want to break the terms of the Accord by not holding up his end of the bargain, as it would result in his death.
Still. There was a small part of Light that liked to believe it was because the eccentric composer didn't want him to perish from lack of blood, which was a very real risk for vampires, as they burned through the blood in their bodies at a phenomenally fast rate.
Two weeks later…
There was excited murmurs as the nobles and gentry settled into their seats in the theater, gradually dying down as the lamps were dimmed and the only light was on the stage, lighting the orchestra and the two men standing at the edge of the stage silently.
Light's eyes scanned over the assembled audience, noting their eager looks- L's compositions were always, always well-received and looked forwards to. This one especially, for word had gotten out of Dominick Tracey's own composition, and speculation had arisen to if L would simply allow his position to be threatened. When the news of L's upcoming new composition had reached public ears, tickets to the concert had been scrambled for, the noble gentry eager to hear L's response to Tracey's impromptu challenge for the title of the greatest composer of their current time.
And so now, Light was standing next to L on the stage, waiting for l to step up onto the podium. This was the first time that L had personally conducted any of his pieces- conducted anything, and that was part of the excitement. How well a conductor led the orchestra could be the difference between a perfect playing of the piece, or a disaster as the orchestra fell apart.
Light only hoped that L knew what he was doing.
L's obsidian eyes glittered in the light of the lamps lighting the stage, gleaming with exhilaration at being up here on stage, about to lead one of the pieces he had dreamed up in the recesses of his own mind, and written down with his own hand.
It was a very long piece, and Light was standing next to him, face level with the music stand. L had asked him to handle music so that L could fully concentrate on conducting- take the finished pages and replace them with the upcoming pages onto his music stand.
Light knew for a fact that L possessed the mental capacity to both handle the music and conduct- if he wished, all he had to do was flick one page over and move onto the next one. He suspected, though, that L didn't want to take the chance of the pieces of music becoming out-of-order or having them fail to flip over on him- it had happened before, and as this was the one chance L had to show up that bastard Dominick Tracey, he didn't want to take any chances that something would go amiss and his performance would fall apart.
L was overly paranoid and an extreme perfectionist when it came to his music, though Light supposed it was admirable that he was fervent about his passion enough to care to this extent.
And in a way, light was pleased to be able to be up here, next to L. There was certain radiance to L when he was up here, on the stage, waiting patiently for Light to get everything sorted and for the audience to become silent.
Up here, on stage, L seemed to lose his eccentricness, his awkwardness and become straight and dignified, waiting silently and proudly to show off the extents of his labor and talents.
His hair gleamed in the golden glow of the stage and the heat of the gas lamps brought a small flush to his cheeks, making them seem not so sickly pale. His black eyes glittered in the light from the lamps, reflecting it, and a small smile was unconsciously fixed upon his normally stoic face, a small testament to how happy he was to be up here, where he belonged.
Up here, on the music stage, L was beautiful.
Light stared, transfixed, as he placed the first sheet of music on the stand, sliding it over to the center where L could see it easily, and then went around to stand in front of the music stand, so that he could easily take and place future sheets of music.
L's eyes flicked over to him in a silent question, and Light nodded, indicating that everything was set and ready. The orchestra had already been warmed up and tuned earlier when they were setting up, so all that was left now was for L to start.
The audience, as if sensing something, fell silent, and without any preamble, L smartly turned around, his back to the audience. He raised his arms, locking eyes with the section that was to start off first, and then brought his arms down.
Light had long since memorized the piece of music so that he would know when to replace the sheets of music, and closed his eyes, simply listening to the music for the moment.
It started out quiet, so quiet that one almost had to strain their ears to hear. Featuring the small collection of flutes and a few violins at first, it was hauntingly beautiful, almost on the verge of being eerie. But L had constructed it perfectly, and it straddled the line gorgeously, captivatingly beautiful.
And then, it trailed off, the flutes dropping out to only one, held out by a single long, high note, before it, too, died away. A beat of silence, and then the rest of the orchestra entered, loud and playing a dazzlingly complex array of notes, in tandem, section by section dropping out and entering one after the other, building the sound higher and higher until it abruptly stopped with a sharp cutting of L's arm.
It was so silent, so still and tense that a heartbeat could be heard, the audience stopping their breathing for a moment as they waited.
And then, the flute returned, playing a series of long, high notes in G minor, eerie and haunting, before it melted into a warmer, more welcoming major key. The low brass and cellos entered, their low tones rumbling around the theater room, slowly and ingeniously dispelling the tension that had built.
And then, the piccolos and violas came in, the tempo starting a bit faster and a lively tune was played, light and almost happy, bringing a smile to a many in the audience. The rest of the orchestra came in, providing support and adding a new variety of intermixing harmonies and melodies, becoming faster and faster, almost until the sounds mixed and blended into one-
And then, it came to a conclusion, the last note played as L brought his arms in and then out, freezing with the rest of the orchestra as a collective whole.
The theater was silent for a few stunned moments before L slowly brought his arms down, turned around to sweep the audience, sweat running down the sides of his face, before he slowly bent, executing a low, stately bow.
And the theater exploded into a frenzy of clapping, and one of the most genuine smiles came over L's face then, transfixing the already stunned Light.
It had been an absolutely visual pleasure to watch L conduct his piece. His face twisted and changed with every new section of the music, from peaceful and relaxed during the first section, then moving onto exhilarated and intense during the second part, and ending with an almost wild smile as he urged the orchestra to go faster and faster, climbing to new and complex heights before freezing, his face slowly losing its intense focus and concentration and simply becoming relaxed and pleased as he allowed the piece to come to an end.
And during the conducting- oh! It was truly a sight to watch L conduct, for he conducted with his whole body. His arms swept gracefully to and fro, going from a slow 6-8 time, to a fast 4-4, then back to 6-8, gradually changing into 3-4, climbing to 2-4, and only increasing the tempo of the 2-4 from there. His body had swayed upon the podium as his arms made his whole body move, his feet shifting to keep his balance, almost to a dance all their own.
This was the first time Light had ever seen L conduct anything, and through his amazement, he wondered why L did not do it more. He was simply marvelous, though in a small part of his mind, he was glad that L did not do this regularly, for Light did not want to give anyone else the pleasure of watching L in his element as closely as Light had been able to.
Breathing heavily, L stood triumphant upon the podium, sweat rolling down the sides of his face from the exertion, glowing and basking in the knowledge that his piece was received, accepted- and loved and delighted in.
And Light couldn't help but smile back, a warm tingle starting in his stomach as L looked to him, throwing him a content smile.
Perfect.
People milled about at theater-reception of the recital, talking in hushed whispers about L's new masterpiece- Light smirked as he heard numerous people remark that Dominick's challenge with the Dance of the Feathers had been acknowledged- and met, it would seem.
L had surpassed Dominick's rip-off of his own piece with a stunning compilation of his own-his best one, to date. It was amazing how much anger could motivate the teen, Light marveled as he swirled a glass of sparkling champagne in his hand, watching L converse with a few other musicians covertly, under his eyelashes.
Seeing one of them lean closer to the teenager who he was Accorded to, placing a hand on his arm- an innocent gesture, no doubt- made Light's eyes narrow as an unfamiliar feeling, hot with anger and a dash of green envy, slashed through him.
Jealousy, Light marveled, blinking as he recognized the feeling.
Jealousy.
A sudden murmur broke Light out of his thoughts, and he looked up, his remarkable amber eyes widening and then narrowing into a watchful glare as the tall, broad-shouldered form of an English noble cut a path through the swarm of people, heading straight towards L.
"Earl Loren Lawliet, correct?"
Light could see L's body stiffen under his formal clothes as he turned to face Dominick Tracey, his features tense and black eyes wary. Light's hands clenched- he knew how much L hated being called by his full name, for whatever reason, and it no doubt nettled him.
And to be honest, Light was rather… protective… of L, in his odd way. He was Accorded to the boy, and though that was part of his protective reasoning- it really would do him no good to have any harm come to the boy- he had also grown to be somewhat fond of L over the past few years.
L's face bore an expression that Light likened to someone tasting a lemon as he addressed the man that had "Marquis Dominick Tracey. What a… pleasure… to see you here. I hope you liked the original performance?"
From where Light was standing, he could not see the Marquis's face, but he could imagine it was as tense as his shoulders had become at L's subtle jab.
"It was most… intriguing. Although it seemed rather similar to my own composition…"
L's fists clenched, and the skin around L's large black eyes tensed at Dominick's reply. "Which was a rip-off of mine, Marquis," L snapped, his temper breaking. "You ripped off one of my own pieces, though I'm not sure what possessed you to do so, for everyone know that copies and throwbacks are never as good as the original." He glared at Dominick, his black eyes sparking in angry fury. "You will never be at the level L is, Marquis Tracey."
"Never is such a long time, Loren," the Marquis replied. "But enough of this- now is not the time for insults. Let us talk of more pleasant things."
"I doubt anything discussed with you is apt to be pleasant. And we are not familiar enough for you to address me by my first name, Marquis."
"Oh, please, do excuse my rudeness. That reminds me, as well. It was remiss of me to not ask after your family- tell me, how is your brother doing?"
Brother? Light's brows furrowed as he pushed himself off the pillar he was leaning against, starting over to the two men who seemed as if they wanted to rip the other apart, wanting to intervene before something did happen.
L had never mentioned he had a brother. A year or so ago he had made a vague mention to his parents having died shortly before he met Light when Light had tactfully asked, but he had never heard the slightest mention of a brother.
However, it seemed that the mention of L's brother extremely bothered L- to the point where it seemed as if L would resort to violence.
And knowing L, his brother had to be an extremely sensitive subject if he would resort to such extremes. But, Light knew he had to intervene- even though L might be pushed to do something like hit the Marquis, his reputation would suffer for it, and for someone like L, whose very career was dependent upon what others thought of him and his work, he couldn't let L do something like this- he'd never forgive himself if he did.
And it turned out that he had decided to move at the right time, too- L's hands clenched, fury burning in his eyes, and he looked like he was about to punch the Marquis' grinning face. Light got there just in time, however, closing his fingers around L's hand- the one with the bite marks, Light noted, seeing the start of the reddened circles start to peek out from the cuffs of his black, formal tailcoat.
That wasn't good- it might raise unwanted, though mislead, questions if someone were to see it. The very nature of those marks couldn't be dismissed easily- they were quite distinctive and not able to be made by accident.
Light forced L's hand down, tugging the sleeve of the coat lower down discreetly so cover the marks before they could be spotted by the marquis' eyes. "There you are, L," Light murmured, squeezing L's hand in a warning for him not to interrupt and to go along with Light's words. "I do believe the carriage has been pulled around, Master L."
L's eyes flicked up to him, assessing him and asking silently what the hell he was getting at.
"Who are you to interrupt to so rudely?" Dominick broke in, regarding Light with some disgust. Light suspected that the distaste marring the Marquis' features was from the fact that Light was not English, if the way Dominick's gaze lingered on his tilted eyes and high cheekbones, no doubt noting the darker, tanned color of his skin as well. And by the way Dominick's lip seemed to curl a bit at the edges, he quite disliked what he saw.
Racist bastard. Light turned to him, annoyed at the Marquis' own rudeness at addressing him so informally and brusquely.
"Ah, do pardon me," Light replied, striving to be courteous while releasing L's hand to give a polite bow to the man. Even if Dominick Tracey was an inconsiderate asshole. "I am Light Yagami, L's personal assistant. I do small errands for him and accompany him around to various functions like this."
"Hmph. I suppose you'll be leaving then?" Dominick asked, at which L started to shake his head, obviously wanting to say something, but Light cut him off before he could say anything damning to his reputation.
"Yes. I'm sure L is quite tired after his performance, and the many late nights spent perfecting his composition."
Dominick stared at Light, assessing him for a moment, before he turned away dismissively. "Well, then, take care, - and Earl, do try to write not so… pompous pieces in the future. Nobody is impressed when it's too exaggerated and overdone. But then again, any decent composer worth a whit would know that…" the Marquis said as he walked away, dismissing both L and Light with a flick of his hand.
"Bastard-" L started to choke out, but Light squeezed L's shoulder in a silent warning and discreetly steered him in the direction of the door, trying to get the teenager away from the place before anyone could hear the obscenities being quietly issued forth from L's mouth.
L accidentally was a bit loud with one certain word, and desperate to somehow censor L, he clapped a hand over the teen's mouth, smiling apologetically at a few people who gave him odd looks. "I'm afraid all the excitement has upset his stomach and he doesn't feel very well," Light hastily explained, at which the looks turned understanding and concerned, allowing Light to get L out of the building and bustle him into the black carriage with the Lawliet crest imprinted on the side that was waiting for them.
Seeing no one was about, Light swiftly pushed L into the carriage and hopped in after them, knocking on the top of the carriage to signify they were ready to go, and the vehicle pulled away with the snap of a whip and a lurch.
L was righting himself, his head turned to glare with blazing eyes at the building they had just left. "That bastard!" L hissed hatefully. "I hate him. It would be so much better if he would just die!"
Light blinked, taken aback at L's vehemently childish words. "You don't mean that," Light said carefully, not wanting to incite any of L's wrath onto himself.
L's head whipped around to him, and Light was shocked at the depth of hate in those gleaming obsidian orbs. "Like hell I don't!" L yelled, angrily slashing a hand in front of him. "Everyone in the English gentry knows that the Lawliet history is taboo- no one, no one speaks of it! Something like that… for him to do that is unforgivable. I wish the Marquis would die!"
There was silent in the carriage as Light stared, hardly breathing at the boy who had turned his face away from Light. "L?"
He didn't respond, and as Light looked closer, he was startled to see a single tear glimmering in the corner of the boy's eye.
I wish the Marquis would die!
L's words repeated themselves in Light's head, and the sight of the tear on L's lashes only incited Light's anger to burn brighter on his Accorded's account.
Somewhere along the way, along the numerous days spent at L's side, bantering with him, keeping him company, feeding off of his delectable blood… he had come to regard the boy as somewhat of his own, as his property, as his.
It might just be because of the bond, but whatever it was, seeing L so distraught angered him, and he knew exactly who the cause of this was.
The Marquis.
I, Yagami Raito, swear, in this Accord, to heed the wishes of the human boy Loren Lawliet…
As you wish…
I wish the Marquis would die!
Thoughts flew about in Light's mind, but at the foremost were these three simple sentences that were first and foremost. As you wish… as L wishes…
Light smiled, though it was unseen by L, as a plan began to form in his mind, and his eyes glinted crimson in the moonlight.
As you wish…
He helped L out of his tailcoat after they got home, as Watari had been dismissed for the night and L needed help getting undressed. The buttons on the inner coat were situated on the back, and L wasn't able to reach his back and maintain the necessary dexterity needed to unbutton them.
So it was why Light was in L's room now, helping the angrily silent L out of his clothes, lying them off to the side before moving onto the next item.
Light flicked his eyes up from where he was removing L's tailcoat, sliding it off of L's thin shoulders. "The Marquis is petty- you shouldn't stew over such things, L," Light told him quietly.
Of course, he was one to talk- he had a plan for tonight- the marquis had insulted L as well as himself, and sparked a series of events that only led to one logical conclusion.
L might hate him for it later, but it was no matter. The boy did not control all aspects of his life; he had certain freedoms that could not be denied nor taken away, freedoms that allowed him to do this one simple thing.
But L could not be awake, for he'd know exactly what Light had planned; the boy was annoyingly-endearingly- perspective in that regard.
L rarely slept full nights, though, and often woke up to wander the house for a good hour before returning to his bed for a few more hours' sleep. He had to make sure L would stay asleep. And though it was somewhat dirty and underhanded, there was one sure way to exhaust L so completely that he slept a full night through and into the later morning.
Not until now had Light ever been thankful for L's seemingly human fragility.
"I cannot help but stew, as you say, vampire," L hissed, his eyes slitting at the thought of the Marquis. Brining up his brother like that- he was the worst sort of bastard. No one brought up the subject of Beyond…
L felt cool, gentle fingers run along his wrist as the vampire behind him slid the tailcoat's sleeves off of his arms, tugging them off carefully.
Funny, how he felt more secure and safe in the presence of a previously thought mythological creature- one that was a killer of humans, at that- than in the presence of his own kind. But he supposed it was because the vampire- Light- was bound to him. It was odd, that he actually preferred Lights company to other's.
And from all previous observances of the vampire, he seemed to bear no ill will towards L for subtly coercing him into service.
With somewhat of a jolt, L realized that he had not offered Light his blood for the past few nights, and he felt slightly guilty at that, as well as worried. Was he breaking the conditions of their Accord? And it was his responsibility to make his blood available to the vampire.
The tailcoat was removed from his body, and as the vampire turned to set it aside, L quickly took the opportunity to roll up the right sleeve of his shirt, turning back to the vampire.
When Light turned around, he was shocked to see L holding out his wrist while rolling up the sleeve of his white shirt, raising an inky-black eyebrow at Light's confused look. "You've not taken blood for a few nights, have you not? Here," L offered quietly, extending his wrist further, so that Light could distinctly see the blue veins tracing under pale skin, as inviting as they always were.
Though Light needed to do this, the thought made him somewhat wince- the blood he planned on taking later would only taste more revolting to him after the taste of L's sweet blood, and the thought of an overly-full stomach was distinctly unappealing as well.
Still… the thought of L's blood was too delectable to resist, and he knew that he needed to do this, as well.
Light gracefully dropped to his knees, taking L's wrist in his hand as he'd done many times before, and he was pleased to see that when he ran his tongue over the almost-healed puncture marks, L no longer shuddered in barely-repressed fear or turned his head away. Now, he simply tilted his head back and closed his eyes, relaxing as the familiarness of the situation settled in.
Light brought L's wrist up to his mouth more, so that he wouldn't have to crane his neck so much. He let his fangs slide out over his lips, and gently brushed them along L's skin, politely letting him know what was coming. However, he hesitated as L failed to respond, not even a twitch. Light placed his fangs against the puncture holes, testing, and when L didn't seem to notice, Light realized the problem and drew back slightly. He still allowed his lips to rest on L's skin, enjoying the soft smoothness of the skin marred only by twin puncture wounds, and then looked up at L.
"Too many times of this, and you may lose feeling in this patch of skin," Light murmured against L's skin, savoring the smell emanating off of L's skin as he always did. No matter what, L never failed to smell… L-like, though over the course of the years, as he'd hit puberty and matured, his scent had subtly changed.
No more was it just simply sweet and innocent, like a simple strawberry lollipop that children enjoyed. Over the years, it had subtly changed, evolving to a more musky, dark, masculine smell, one that Light likened to dark chocolate with a strawberry tint. It was unique to L, and Light never grew tired of smelling the scent of L's skin.
L's eyes slid open and he looked down, blinking as he saw that Light was about to bite him, and he had failed to notice. He seemed to not be too worried, though, as he shrugged. "Perhaps then it won't hurt as badly," L said.
Light frowned. "It still hurts? Even with the preparation?"
"The first few seconds don't- but when your teeth go deeper than a few centimeters, it does hurt. I suppose the numbing drug carried in your saliva only penetrates the first few layers of skin," L mused thoughtfully.
"Ad you've failed to mention this before?" Damn it, Light hated to hear that all this time, he had been causing L pain- he knew how badly a vampire's bite could hurt…
"It never seemed of very much import. There's nothing you can do, therefore there was no point in mentioning it. Funny that you should seem to care about your meal's well-being so much, though…"
Light didn't answer that; how could he? Instead, he held L's eyes for a few seconds more before swiftly biting down, sinking his fangs into L's skin and trying to be as quick as he could about it so that the sensation wouldn't be drawn out, causing L more pain.
He heard L's gasp as he did so, and he drew back before too much blood could enter his mouth and cause him to get lost in the sweet, heady taste. Getting an idea, he allowed saliva to pool in his mouth, and he stuck out his tongue, positioning it right over the twin puncture holes and letting the saliva drip down into them. He hoped that by doing this, the insertion of his fangs would not hurt so much, for they tended to shift as he swallowed, the movement only hurting the muscle and raw nerves that had been torn with his actions.
"What are you-?"
Before L could finish, Light bit down again, lifting his gaze to L's shocked one. "Better?" Light mumbled, hoping that his idea had worked and by putting saliva into the wounds themselves, they wouldn't hurt as much.
L's brow furrowed as he thought, and then blinked in surprise, nodding. "Actually… yes," L admitted, and pleased, Light nodded once before setting his fangs in deeper and proceeding to draw L's blood into his mouth and down his throat, reveling in the taste and sensation.
L's blood never ceased to taste absolutely wonderful and energizing to Light. He always wanted to take more than he knew he should, and this time, he allowed himself to, though he mentally apologized to L.
He knew how much to take from L to prevent him from passing out as had happened the first time, but this time around, making L pass out was his goal- he needed L sound asleep and not wandering around at night and noticing Light missing.
After a minute, Light felt a warm hand tangling I his hair, gently tugging. "Light, that's enough. I feel… I feel faint…"
Wincing, Light kept drinking, though he slowed it down, wanting to only take enough to force L to pass out, not have his heart stop from lack of blood. That could cause complications that Light really didn't want to deal with.
"Light…" L's voice was fainter this time around, and Light knew this to be the time to pull back. He dislodged his fangs from L's skin, licking the slowly-leaking holes before he dropped L's wrist and rose to his feet.
The teenager's eyes were fluttering, and he was swaying on his feet. Alarmed, Light reached out and caught he boy before he could fall, seeing black eyes close and the boy let out a sigh before he fell limp in Light's hold.
He gave a sad smile as he set L onto his bed, setting him underneath the bedcovers- it was reminiscent of that first night Light had taken L's blood, back when L had been so much smaller and seemed more fragile, was scared of what was to come yet hiding it as well as he could.
You've come a long ways, L, Light thought as he turned away, thinking of how much L had grown, both in body and mind these past three years. Soon, you'll be an adult, and then only growing older until you're dead. How sad that such a bright spark such as you will only burn out in the end… what a horrible waste.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here? Aren't you the Earl's butler?" The Marquis peered suspiciously out from the other side of the door, eyeing Light with distaste.
Light gritted his teeth- the pompous ass! "No, I am not Earl Lawliet's butler. I am his assistant. He actually bade me deliver a message for you," Light lied, craning his neck to look around. He could not hear any other living humans in the area or in the house.
He had to fight down a smirk as he acknowledged this- it would make his job so much easier.
This piece of trash had insulted L- his Accorded human- and he would not suffer any insult from the man on L's behalf. He had sworn to be L's bodyguard when the time came for it, and Light naturally extended that to the protecting of both L's person- and his honor.
"A message?" The door swung open, and the Marquis peered out from around the door suspiciously. "Why would the Earl send me a message?"
Ah, so the idiot was not so oblivious to L's hatred of him as Light thought he was. Perhaps his mind was not a complete waste, then. "I suppose you'll have to let me into find out," Light replied nonchalantly, holding up the white stationary envelope, flashing L's wax seal at the marquis to show him that he did, indeed, possess a letter from the Earl.
Dominick's eyebrows rose and his face became less suspicious as he eyed the letter clutched in Light's hand. "Fine, then. Come in- I'll take you to the library," the Marquis said, opening the door fully and turning away, leaving the door to Light to close.
He glared after the man, comforting himself by allowing thoughts of what he was going to do to the pig play through his mind and soothe him.
If the man was truly polite, he would have allowed Light in before closing the door for him, and then taking his coat and hanging them up on the way to the library. But he showed his contempt for Light- and Light's race- through his actions.
Light smiled slightly- little did the rude man know, he had just put the finishing touches on the signature of his own death warrant. Perhaps, if the marquis would have shown that he was better-bred and truly polite, Light would have considered letting the man off with a frightening warning- but in his actions, he had left Light with the simple decision that no, this man would not be shown any mercy whatsoever.
"Oh, no," Light said, giving the Marquis a charming- and utterly fake- smile as he closed the large doors behind him. No need to leave the doors wide open and let any passers-by see what was to occur. Light had been very careful not to let anyone see him be let into the marquis' house- he had waited until the streets around were completely empty before going up and knocking on the man's door. "That won't be necessary at all for us to conduct our business."
The marquis stopped and turned around, a look of confusion spreading across his face as he saw Light click the lock on the doors and remove his white gloves, placing them into the pocket of his coat. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Simply getting ready to conduct business in the way I wish to," Light replied calmly, looking up. His eyes turned hard, the light catching them in just a way that the red tint in the amber color were brought out to play, making them appear reddish to the frightened man in front of him.
"You can't be serious- you wouldn't kill me!" The Marquis exclaimed, desperately trying to think of a way to escape or deter the disturbingly calm man that was approaching him.
"Wouldn't I?" Light asked with a raised eyebrow, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. Humans; they thought they knew everything. Sad, really.
Light had to admit, though, if they were under other circumstances, Light would not have even entertained the thought of killing Dominick- but this time was different. He posed a threat to L's mental wellbeing- Light absolutely knew L would worry over the events tonight for days, if not weeks- and Light simply would not allow that.
Vampires were just like any other human- subject to crimes of passion. And as L was Light's passion, it had driven him to this, though Light would not pin his actions on L. He was the one who had chosen to pursue this course of action, and he hoped L would understand.
Seeing the Marquis continue to back away from the steadily advancing Light, he continued. "I'm afraid, my dear Marquis Tracey, that I do not play by simple human rules- and I have not for the past few centuries."
Dominick's eyes widen impossibly large at Light's words, almost popping out of their sockets. "Centuries- what the hell are you?!" A waver of fear made the Marquis's voice tremble, something that made Light pleased. Let him tremble, Light thought viciously, allowing himself a fanged smile, it only widening as he saw the Marquis gulp in fear. For filth like you don't deserve to die with dignity.
"Something straight out of a legend, my dear Marquis- a vampire, to be exact," Light told the Marquis, unleashing a full-blown grin, letting Dominick see fully what he had only glimpsed before.
"Why are you doing this?!" resignation. No doubt Dominick knew that he could do nothing against Light, and so he wanted to know why Light was doing this to him. Though Light knew that the man had to have a pretty good idea, knowing that he had insulted L earlier, and now L's servant was here to kill him.
"Because of Loren Lawliet, Marquis. The man you insulted so rudely earlier tonight is under my protection- he allows me to live off of his blood in return for my service, and I am bound to him by an Accord, something your feeble mind wouldn't be able to grasp if I tried explaining it to you," Light said haughtily, reveling in the look of mixed horror and confusion etching itself upon the Marquis' handsome face.
"I am his assistant, as I stated earlier, and also his bodyguard- in all respects. I protect both his body and his honor- one of which you have assaulted by attempting to make a fool of him in your copying of his work and then trying to pass it off as your own." Light tried to at least give the man some closure as to why he was going to kill the man- and because Light found the look of fear that made itself present on the man's face utterly exhilarating.
"What he wishes is what I strive to do- and earlier tonight, he wished you dead- he uttered it brashly and in the heat of the moment, but I could not help but feel that
"Wait, no! I'll tell you something- anything! I'll tell you about the Earl's brother and his past!" The marquis desperately offered, his breath coming faster as Light drew closer. As his death drew closer. Light wanted to smile at the comparison, but refrained- one should not take too much joy in the loss of a life, no matter how despicable that life may be.
"How sickening to for you to think that I could be bribed and bought. That information is for him to tell me at his leisure and if he wishes it, for it is his own business and his alone. That being said, there is nothing else needed for you to say. Goodbye, Marquis." With that, Light was on the Marquis before he had time to react, his vampiric speed allowing him to be at the man's throat, his fangs sunk deep into his skin in a matter of seconds.
Dominick spluttered, gurgling as Light's fangs punctured his neck, and blood rushed ito his mouth.
He barely resisted making a face as the hot blood spilled into his mouth. It was normal blood- but compared to L's it was flavorless, bland and almost bitter. He made a disgusted face as he jerked his fangs out of the Marquis' neck, watching as the bleeding man fell to the ground.
Light stepped back in disgust, noting the blood that had stained his white shirt with annoyance. Rolling his eyes, he looked down at the Marquis' body, sighing as he thought of the work ahead of him tonight.
He needed to make it look like an accident; the Marquis was a big fox-hunter, he knew, and often went out to do so at night when the creatures were out and about.
What he needed to do was take the Marquis' horse through the forest, scare it away into running back to town, dump the Marquis' body somewhere, catch a wolf and shoot it, then place it next to the Marquis' body.
It would make the scene look as if the Marquis had been attacked by a wolf, but had managed to shoot the predator before he expired. He had certainly been rough enough while attacking the Marquis to make it look like such an accident, and no one- except L, who might find that the closeness of the incident earlier that night and Dominick's death suspicious- would be the wiser.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Light rolled his shoulder before he bent down to sling the Marquis' body over his shoulder, and headed out to retrieve the Marquis' horse.
Light got back to the manor not long after, slipping inside discreetly and making his way up to his room. His clothes, he'd have to dispose of- he'd burn them later tonight, once the blood had dried more, for it was hard to burn clothes that were wet and soaked with blood.
He quickly changed his clothes, tossing the bloodstained ones off to the side for the moment, and then tilted his head to the side, listening to see if there was any movement in the household. There were no footsteps- no sound other than that of numerous hearts beating and the sounds of inhaling and exhaling, which pleased Light.
Everyone was asleep, which meant that no one had seen him come in.
Yet… L could be very quiet, he knew. Paranoia made him slip out of his room and swiftly head towards L's room, cracking open the door and peering inside. He heard L's distinctive heartbeat pattern and breathing, knowing him to be asleep by the slowed rates of both.
Relief surged through him at knowing L was still safely asleep, and he slipped inside the room silently, heading towards the bed.
L was very peaceful when he slept, though loss of blood had turned him paler than he normally was. But his face was relaxed and content, his lips slightly parted sa he breathed in and out quietly, deep in sleep.
It was a sight that made Light smile, and thinking that the Marquis was dead now, out of L's mind and not to have to be worried about made him breathe easier, as L no doubt would when he heard about it.
Smiling fondly, Light bent down, brushing his lips softly over L's pale, smooth forehead. "Sleep well and dream of cake, mon petit repare," Light whispered. "For you should have sweet dreams- no more shall the marquis trouble you, for I've done as you wished."
Light smiled then, a smile with a hint of fang and a tint of red in his light amber eyes. "Always, always, as you wish."
Next chapter sneak peek: Symphony 4: Ovis in Women Vestimentis (A Sheep in Women's Clothing)
"…Vampire. This is utterly ridiculous. You cannot seriously think I'd be willing to dress as a woman just to get my nephew out of his troubles with his lady friend."
"But think of poor Mello- stupid though his scheme was- being mauled by his upset light o' love. Wouldn't want him to be bludgeoned to death by a pink, frilly purse, would you? Purses are deadly weapons, you know. And think of Mello's shame- death by pink purse! Poor sap would die without a lick of dignity!"
"It would be his own fault for his loss of dignity. I refuse- besides, there would be no way I'd pass as a lady. It would be like putting a wolf in sheep's clothing- there'd be no way we can pass me off as a woman."
"I don't know, L. We put a bonnet on you, lace you into a corset, stick a few petticoats under a pink dress and voila! We have… Lorena Lawlietta!"