For as long as Vicente could remember, Lucien Lachance had always been dangerous. As a boy, barely a day over twelve, Lucien had crafted and executed a brilliant plan to murder his family the night of his birthday. As Speaker, Vicente had gone to recruit him and discovered him sitting in the blood of his mother, the crimson liquid smeared on his face like battle wounds while he smiled gleefully.
The Dark Brotherhood was not in the habit of recruiting children, but the Night Mother made it clear that Lucien was an exception. His cold heart, she had told the Listener, will bring the Dark Brotherhood great fortune in the years to come.
Vicente watched as the boy grew into a man, his viciousness growing every day. He was a delicate cross between a businessman and a psychopath, completing contracts punctually and to perfection, always keeping a professional outlook, but his methods were cruel and bloodthirsty. Vicente soon discovered that Lucien had no qualms about torturing his targets for hours before finally sending them to the Void, very much unlike his Sisters and Brothers who killed cleanly and neatly.
He had to admit that as a vampire his own methods could be gruesome, but nothing to the likes of Lucien Lachance. It wasn't long before the young assassin rose through the ranks, and finally was promoted to Vicente's Silencer.
Bloodthirsty, conniving Lucien was drawn to the intellectual and fatherly personality of Vicente Valtieri, and at the same time he was enchanted by the vampire's darker nature. At first, Vicente was ignorant of Lucien's interest, but some body language and signs could not be hidden. Vicente could never explain what drew him to bed the man, but his choice would haunt him for years to come. Together in his bed, the eccentric and the insane were one, and any other person might have mistaken it for love.
No, Vicente later realized. Lucien was not the kind of man who loved, and any form of passion was merely a façade for possession and manipulation. The Breton was a smart man and had over two centuries of fighting those who sought to control his mind, and did not fall so easily to the young Imperial's schemes. Although Vicente knew he did not mean harm by the Dark Brotherhood, he was ambitious to a fault, and if bedding his mentor meant rising to the position of Speaker, then Lucien was sure to do it.
After sharing many nights with the boy, Vicente finally decided to break off whatever 'arrangement' the two had. Lucien would, of course, rise to the position of Speaker at Vicente's retirement, however the relationship between the two was permanently damaged.
Vicente spent many more years watching the now-mature man manipulate and possess any other recruit or family member, usually women, by his own desires. He never broke a Tenet, but even then Vicente disproved greatly.
Zarissis followed meekly behind the Speaker, whom she had determined at this point was at least the tiniest bit crazy. His crazed gaze as he smashed into Vicente's room had frightened her, but she told herself that she could not afford to be afraid while in the Brotherhood.
She liked giving him the benefit of the doubt. Certainly as a Speaker, control was important, so perhaps some of his unusual antics were actually a role he played to be more intimidating as an assassin. He seemed as though he might be able to be a decent fellow when not being a murderer…she hoped.
Lucien Lachance briskly led her to the training room, where he seized a sword off the weapon's rack and tossed it at her. Zarissis felt her face burn as she flinched at the airborne weapon before catching it clumsily, fumbling it for a moment before gripping it firmly.
He lifted a sword off the rack from himself, weighing it in his hands. "I'm going to test your weapon expertise. It is important as Speaker that I know the skills of my family."
Zarissis nodded, understanding his point. "Swords are nice…" she began, rolling the hilt around in her palms as she watched the light glint off the polished metal, "but I really do prefer daggers."
Lucien merely paused, giving her a calculating glance. After a moment, he took the sword from her hands, instead handing a pair of iron daggers over. From a hidden enclave in his robes, Lucien produced a pair of his own daggers, the ebony blades as dark as midnight. Zarissis immediately understood that her weapons were quite inferior in contrast, but what choice did she have?
"Show me what you can do," Lucien growled, a moment before Zarissis launched herself at him, metal flashing in the dim torch light. The Speaker sidestepped her easily, thrusting his own daggers at her torso. Zarissis glanced down and understood that he would have buried the ebony in her chest, had he not displayed self-restraint.
Lucien merely smirked, continuing the deadly blade dance. It was not common to engage in a close combat fight with two people wielding daggers, but when it happened, Zarissis understood that she needed to be prepared for an enemy as skilled and cunning as Lucien Lachance.
The two engaged in what seemed to be a ballet of skill, both twisting, ducking, and slipping past the well-aimed attacks of the other. Zarissis found herself doing better as time wore on, finding places that Lucien left open while trying to engage his weaknesses.
In the middle of their training, time seemed to slow. Zarissis hardly noticed how long their duel was, much less that she was an even match for Lucien Lachance. By the Gods, it had never occurred before, but here she was, matching him attack for attack.
Zarissis barely understood it herself. With no formal training, it was as though someone was guiding her actions, whispering unconscious messages in her mind. More unsettling however was the way Lucien's eyes bore into her, as though trying to read everything about her all at once. In his eyes Zarissis saw shock and disbelief, but also another lingering stare, one so heated it made her face blush.
Was that…lust?
At her sudden realization, Zarissis made her mistake of the night, allowing Lucien an opening. In a matter of seconds, the blades were torn from her hands and Zarissis found herself on her back, wrists pinned above her head, gazing into Lucien's furiously heated stare.
It was only then that Zarissis realized how close he was, and the heat rushing into her own cheeks. Lucien looked as though he wanted to tear her apart, in more ways than one. Something ignited within her, born from fire and passion and the heat of the moment. In one instant Lucien was above her, and the next his lips were against hers, the hot flesh battling for dominance over her own mouth.
Zarissis could only thank the Gods that no one was around, or certainly everyone would have spoken about the intense way she returned his impetuous passion, Lucien's lips pushing open her mouth before claiming her. His hands abandoned her wrists and he broke the kiss, using one hand to grip her chin roughly before turning her head to the side. She could only moan and scratch at Lucien's back as his mouth trailed down her neck, nibbling at the sensitive flesh.
He growled at the existence of her leather armor, which prevented him from continuing his ministrations on the red head. When he finally met her eyes again, Zarissis felt her heart hitch a bit at the intensity of his gaze. There was a dangerous gleam to his eyes, as though Zarissis had just engaged in his favourite game and he was clearly in the lead.
Perhaps even more disturbing was that she realized she was enjoying it. He had been so terrifying, but then in the heat of battle, something broke within her, releasing new feelings she had never felt before.
Lucien's lips pressed against hers again, this time almost… gentle? It was without the rough, intense craving desire, instead merely a light brush that bordered on affectionate. Zarissis could only stare at him in mild shock as he pulled away, this time pushing himself to his feet before holding a hand out for her. After a moment, she slipped her hand into his, and was pulled up.
"Don't you have a contract you should be getting to?" Lucien huffed, and Zarissis realized that he was back to his normal self, scowling at her as though he hadn't just been swapping spit with her on the training room floor. Zarissis could only nod, prompting a rather gruff 'Get to it then' before he stomped out of the room, presumably to attend to whatever business he had.
"What a pleasant surprise! My little songbird returns again." Vicente chirped as she re-entered his chambers a few hours later. Zarissis glanced at him, her cheeks growing red for not the first time that day as she closed the door behind her.
Oh how positively pitiful she looked. Vicente was unsure of what Lucien had done, but whatever it was, it was enough to have left her stumbling over her own feet, nervously wringing her hands at the same time.
"Zarissis?" Vicente felt himself questioning, approaching her slowly. She did not run, as she usually didn't, but Vicente still was cautious. Whatever had transpired had certainly left her feeling unsure and perhaps a bit flustered.
That's when it hit him. The overwhelming scent of Lucien radiating from her body, tinged with arousal from both parties. All of Vicente's nerves stood on end and it took great effort for him to not snarl at her. Lucien's familiar musky scent was enough to evoke strong memories in the elder vampire, things he thought he had long since suppressed.
Whether it was fear of Vicente's own anger that drove her to nervousness, or guilt over her actions, it did not matter anymore. Fearing his temper would snap it took everything for him to merely whisper a couple words.
"Get out."
At first she had merely stared at him in shock, but then at hearing the suppressed fury dripping in the tone of his voice, the little Breton had nearly scrambled to throw herself from his room. He listened to her foot steps as she ran down the hall before the sound faded all together and he was left in silence.
Vicente nearly sunk to his feet, his own emotions overwhelming. Vampires were not known for their control and moderation; just as their desires were more intense than mortals, so were there emotions. He wasn't angry at her, and he knew he'd have to apologize. However, at that moment he could not shake the startling images of what Lucien's desire had done to women before. Perhaps if she had been nobody, just another citizen, he could have turned a semi-blind eye to the acts, but this was a Sister, and one Vicente had begun to like in particular.
Lucien was not bad, but his attention was. Whatever he had planned for their newest recruit, Vicente knew he had to stop it. The poor child probably wasn't even aware of the danger she was putting herself in.
With a deep sigh, Vicente sunk into a chair, burying his face in his hands. Before him, memories and images flashed in his mind.
Vicente gazed down at the sleeping boy's face, admiring the contrast of his long, dark eyelashes against pale skin, black hair spread messily over the pillow. Oh, clever little Lucien. How he bewitched all those he spoke to, sending men and women to their knees with a pure, unwavering air of sexual dominance.
Then again, it was Vicente who taught him all he knew. Lucien was merely a boy, drinking out of a river stream and hiding in an abandoned bear cave when Vicente found him. His soul was dark even then; how a child his age could even imagine the possibility of murdering his parents was beyond Vicente. He had passed it off as abuse – certainly if Lucien was abused, it would have led him to such drastic measures? Lucien never revealed his past, and Vicente questioned if perhaps it was simply as natural for him to kill as it was for Vicente to desire blood.
Vicente had been the Speaker at the time, and Lucien progressed quickly through the ranks as he grew older, killing his targets with finesse that Vicente had not witnessed in decades. When Lucien came of age and finally outranked most of his other Brothers and Sisters, Vicente finally called upon him to serve as Silencer, much to the boy's joy.
It was there, in Fort Farragut where Vicente presided, that he truly saw the dangerous nature of the young assassin.
At first, simple glances were exchanged that made Vicente quite confused, then when he was stressed and sitting at a table going over contracts, warm hands would run over his neck and through his hair before massaging his shoulders gently. Lucien would whisper words in his ear that made lust roar through his body. On more than one occasion, Vicente found himself pressed to the boy with a hand tearing his head back, possessively running lips over Lucien's neck. Always he would catch himself before he slipped, fighting the urge to sink fangs into his warm neck and throw his Silencer over a table with his robes hitched up around his waist.
How he managed to escape with so much self-restraint was beyond Vicente, but Lucien spent every moment relentlessly attempting to seduce the elder vampire, always armed with a mischievous grin to prevent the man from being angry at him.
Vicente unwittingly taught the young Silencer how to seduce like a vampire. There was one time when Vicente did break, and spent the night curled around the boy protectively. He merely watched the young assassin sleep, wrapped up in blood-red sheets, contemplating his relationship with Lucien as he realized he was falling in love, for the first time in ages. Did Lucien love him? Likely not, Vicente had realized. Lucien had enjoyed the cold, cruel nature of a vampire far more than Vicente liked, and much to his horror, this behavior began to reflect in his Silencer's actions.
One night, Vicente assigned Lucien a contract in Bruma. He didn't know why he did it, but he felt compelled to follow the boy and see how his talents were progressing. As an assassin, he was marvelous. Vicente observed his Silencer pick off a family of six in merely an hour with poison, leaving no evidence of their cause of death, killing each in their sleep.
However, afterwards Vicente continued to follow his Silencer as the dark-haired Imperial made a stop to the Inn in Bruma. The man ordered a drink, and within the next hour had a pretty brunette on his lap. He was polite and gentlemanly, much to the joy of his Speaker, seducing the girl with compliments and jokes. Vicente was about to leave the inn when Lucien took her back to his room, feeling as though his act of spying had come to an end, when his vampiric-hearing picked up the slight sounds of a struggle.
Vicente had stood by the door, invisible, debating whether or not to interrupt his Silencer, but the scent of fear radiating from the room nearly intoxicated him. He finally made the choice to magically unlock the door and burst in.
To his shock, Lucien Lachance was in the middle of recreating the very scene from the night before, mimicking Vicente's own loss of control in perfect execution. Lucien had released her as soon as his Speaker burst in, leaving the girl to curl up in fear and cry as blood ran over her shoulders and down her back, staining the sheets.
He hadn't known how to feel. Of course, killing or torturing those who weren't contracts wasn't forbidden, but to see his own Silencer gleefully mimicking a behavior he'd never wanted to have himself startled Vicente.
After that came the remembrance of the Sister who gave her life because of his foolishness. It wasn't Lucien's fault, not her death, not really, but Vicente blamed him for it anyway.
Perhaps the thing that Vicente hated in Lucien was the aspects of his personality that Vicente saw in himself. Was he really any better? Vicente had raped, killed, ripped out the throats of women he had seduced. He had tortured, murdered, watched in glee as the life left the eyes of another, and drank the blood of those he hated and loved.
They were not much different. Two sides of the same coin, one might say. Lucien was cunning and crafty and Vicente was mindful and discreet. Lucien's actions were bold and daring and Vicente did what had to be done. Both were calculating and cold. One who chose to be a monster and the other who fought against it.
And then there was Zarissis, caught somewhere in the middle. Headstrong and determined, she had run away from home out of refusal to marry a man she did not care for. She desired conflict and adventure, and that lead her to willingly accept murder. Fearless before a vampire and aroused from the touch of a madman, yet somewhat afraid of both at the same time. She had been afraid of Lucien, but at her return she had reeked of hormones and desire. She had feared Vicente just a bit, yet had spent her evening with him willingly and allowed him close to her. In the end, it did not matter how she once had been, the fact remained that she was comfortable being among the eccentric and insane.
They were certainly quite the selection of lunatics, Vicente thought. Whatever happened, he just hoped the family could hold together through the impending darkness.
A/N: I'm alive! Moreover, my muse is alive as well. Chapters may be shorter because it makes it easier for me to update (writing 8 pages at once is pretty hard).