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winterLook, canon Tanzfic. Wow.
I wrote this one at the seaside, but I figured I should post it before I forget about it. Contrary to appearances, I have been writing fic lately, but the problem is, it's all Tanzfic in a specific sequence called Roses for Lucifer. I'm writing out of sequence, which means I can't post the half-dozen stories I've written so far until I write the first one. On which I'm stuck on a torture/sex scene. Typical.
Warning: Molestation occurs here. Which is a given, since it's Herbert, but I'm told it can be triggering. Also, it's Von Krolock's POV, and he's the king of purple prose. It's canon, so I didn't correct it.
BELIEVE THE NIGHT
"The darkest hour before dawn is the hardest time for hiding your own darkness from yourself."
Graf von Krolock finished the last n with a flourish, then touched the tip of his quill to the page again, letting it move as it would as his thoughts writhed in spirals in his head. It seemed that poetry would not be his refuge tonight, even though the words had come to him readily enough in the portrait gallery, with the girl.
"Sarah," he whispered, and the word carried the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body in his arms.
He had watched her from afar, but he had not suspected the depth of yearning within that untried soul. Barred so long from freedom and sensual indulgence, she now desired so intensely that the tide of feeling left him in vertigo. She would be a demon before he was through with her, a creature of blackness to rival his own, and all born of that damning longing for freedom and knowledge and will to rebel against the fate God dealt her.
And yet she did not want him. He could see that in her eyes, feel it with the part of his mind that continuously scouted the crossroads of the future. His heart had been shattered so many times that he could taste the coming pain like blood in his mouth, metallic and sweet.
Still, she wanted what he offered. That would be enough, and more than he'd settled on at times.
He looked at the page again and shook his head. A sketch of Sarah's face was drawn in ink under his graceless attempt to set in words the ache in his mind. It had been years, decades since he'd felt that strongly, and for that he would be kind to her.
He scattered sand over the page and left it to dry. A walk through the halls would do better at clearing his head, and there were other guests to check upon. It would not do for them to be eaten before the opening dance of the ball.
There was a gap between the door to the guest chamber and the wall, and it widened under his hand. A sliver of flickering light seeped through from the hall, disappearing momentarily as he stepped into the room. He knew there was only one resident of the castle who dared to disregards his commands so carelessly.
The light from the hall set sparks dancing in his son's hair. Herbert was perched at the edge of the large bed, crouched over the body of the younger of their visitors. The old fool was snoring somewhere in the darkness, but Herbert's attention was on the boy, who moved languorously under insistent hands, whimpering in his sleep.
Von Krolock stepped around the foot of the bed, letting his cloak sweep over the boy's outstretched hand. Alfred's other hand was out of sight, tangled in the sheets, shirt unfastened and pushed almost off that shoulder. His chest fluttered with rapid breaths, though his eyes remained closed in deep sleep as Herbert's fingers returned to his forehead, weaving a dream for him.
Herbert's hair shimmered as he arched back his neck, looking up at von Krolock. He smiled happily, eyes glittering, lips arched and pulled back from unbloodied fangs. Von Krolock ran his fingers down the length of his son's hair.
"I barely had to steer his dreams," Herbert murmured. "You've made an impression on him."
"I'm sure he will be impressed by you as well, given the chance."
Herbert lowered himself on his arms to brush a kiss on Alfred's parted lips. "Such a tangled mind. I'm not sure he can tell between his fears and his desires."
"A thing of beauty," von Krolock agreed, his eyes following the path of Herbert's fingers down Alfred's unmarred neck. "You sound enchanted."
"And are you?" Herbert looked over his should with a mischievous smile. "Despite everything, I got to this chamber first, Father."
Von Krolock shook his head, hiding a smile of his own behind his hair. "I suffer from an abundance of enchantments tonight."
"The girl?" Herbert's voice held an inflection usually reserved for words like 'cockroach'.
"She is - quite exceptional."
Herbert licked his fingers with the tip of a pale tongue. He traced the length of Alfred's collarbone, drawing out a slow shudder from the boy. "If you'll pardon me, Father, I shall persist in my perversities. He's fallen in love with her, you know."
"That's easy to accomplish." Von Krolock couldn't see his son's eyes, but knew they were sparkling with amusement. "He wants something more than he is. A precious child."
"Too precious for a buffet snack?" Herbert's tone was flippant, but there was an undercurrent of hunger in his voice.
Von Krolock tangled his fingers in his son's hair again, bringing Herbert's face up to meet his gaze. "You want him?"
"Yes."
He moved his hand to cup Herbert's chin instead. "If you can entice him to submit to you before the ball begins, you may have him. And you may also apologise to the guests for the meagreness of their fare this year."
"I hope to rise to the challenge."
"Challenge?" Von Krolock kept his fingers lightly in contact with Herbert's skin, letting them slip to the other vampire's shoulder as the latter leaned forward to flick away the sheet that hid one of Alfred's hands.
They both hissed quietly as the image of the cross flashed fire-white across their vision before Herbert threw the sheet over it once more.
"You see, Father, they are serious about wanting to kill us."
"We shall give them a sporting chance." Von Krolock stooped, bringing his lips to Herbert's ear. "I believe you were complaining of a lack of entertainment for this year's ball?"
"It's so tiring when everyone has nothing better to do than to admire my beauty," Herbert murmured, leaning against his father's shoulder. "Or make a mess in the library, of course."
Von Krolock kissed his son's brow and straightened, brushing out the folds of his cloak. "We can't have that, of course. I'll be leaving the management of the guests in your hands."
Herbert laughed. "Such a hardship. I should gather energy for it."
Von Krolock watched his son's bright head lower to the boy's parted lips. He touched Herbert's back, once, as the younger vampire stretched out on the bed.
He melted into the shadows, letting them take him to the crypt below. He left the door ajar, illuminating the two bodies entwined on the bed. There was nothing they needed to hide in the darkness.
FIN
I wrote this one at the seaside, but I figured I should post it before I forget about it. Contrary to appearances, I have been writing fic lately, but the problem is, it's all Tanzfic in a specific sequence called Roses for Lucifer. I'm writing out of sequence, which means I can't post the half-dozen stories I've written so far until I write the first one. On which I'm stuck on a torture/sex scene. Typical.
Warning: Molestation occurs here. Which is a given, since it's Herbert, but I'm told it can be triggering. Also, it's Von Krolock's POV, and he's the king of purple prose. It's canon, so I didn't correct it.
BELIEVE THE NIGHT
"The darkest hour before dawn is the hardest time for hiding your own darkness from yourself."
Graf von Krolock finished the last n with a flourish, then touched the tip of his quill to the page again, letting it move as it would as his thoughts writhed in spirals in his head. It seemed that poetry would not be his refuge tonight, even though the words had come to him readily enough in the portrait gallery, with the girl.
"Sarah," he whispered, and the word carried the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body in his arms.
He had watched her from afar, but he had not suspected the depth of yearning within that untried soul. Barred so long from freedom and sensual indulgence, she now desired so intensely that the tide of feeling left him in vertigo. She would be a demon before he was through with her, a creature of blackness to rival his own, and all born of that damning longing for freedom and knowledge and will to rebel against the fate God dealt her.
And yet she did not want him. He could see that in her eyes, feel it with the part of his mind that continuously scouted the crossroads of the future. His heart had been shattered so many times that he could taste the coming pain like blood in his mouth, metallic and sweet.
Still, she wanted what he offered. That would be enough, and more than he'd settled on at times.
He looked at the page again and shook his head. A sketch of Sarah's face was drawn in ink under his graceless attempt to set in words the ache in his mind. It had been years, decades since he'd felt that strongly, and for that he would be kind to her.
He scattered sand over the page and left it to dry. A walk through the halls would do better at clearing his head, and there were other guests to check upon. It would not do for them to be eaten before the opening dance of the ball.
There was a gap between the door to the guest chamber and the wall, and it widened under his hand. A sliver of flickering light seeped through from the hall, disappearing momentarily as he stepped into the room. He knew there was only one resident of the castle who dared to disregards his commands so carelessly.
The light from the hall set sparks dancing in his son's hair. Herbert was perched at the edge of the large bed, crouched over the body of the younger of their visitors. The old fool was snoring somewhere in the darkness, but Herbert's attention was on the boy, who moved languorously under insistent hands, whimpering in his sleep.
Von Krolock stepped around the foot of the bed, letting his cloak sweep over the boy's outstretched hand. Alfred's other hand was out of sight, tangled in the sheets, shirt unfastened and pushed almost off that shoulder. His chest fluttered with rapid breaths, though his eyes remained closed in deep sleep as Herbert's fingers returned to his forehead, weaving a dream for him.
Herbert's hair shimmered as he arched back his neck, looking up at von Krolock. He smiled happily, eyes glittering, lips arched and pulled back from unbloodied fangs. Von Krolock ran his fingers down the length of his son's hair.
"I barely had to steer his dreams," Herbert murmured. "You've made an impression on him."
"I'm sure he will be impressed by you as well, given the chance."
Herbert lowered himself on his arms to brush a kiss on Alfred's parted lips. "Such a tangled mind. I'm not sure he can tell between his fears and his desires."
"A thing of beauty," von Krolock agreed, his eyes following the path of Herbert's fingers down Alfred's unmarred neck. "You sound enchanted."
"And are you?" Herbert looked over his should with a mischievous smile. "Despite everything, I got to this chamber first, Father."
Von Krolock shook his head, hiding a smile of his own behind his hair. "I suffer from an abundance of enchantments tonight."
"The girl?" Herbert's voice held an inflection usually reserved for words like 'cockroach'.
"She is - quite exceptional."
Herbert licked his fingers with the tip of a pale tongue. He traced the length of Alfred's collarbone, drawing out a slow shudder from the boy. "If you'll pardon me, Father, I shall persist in my perversities. He's fallen in love with her, you know."
"That's easy to accomplish." Von Krolock couldn't see his son's eyes, but knew they were sparkling with amusement. "He wants something more than he is. A precious child."
"Too precious for a buffet snack?" Herbert's tone was flippant, but there was an undercurrent of hunger in his voice.
Von Krolock tangled his fingers in his son's hair again, bringing Herbert's face up to meet his gaze. "You want him?"
"Yes."
He moved his hand to cup Herbert's chin instead. "If you can entice him to submit to you before the ball begins, you may have him. And you may also apologise to the guests for the meagreness of their fare this year."
"I hope to rise to the challenge."
"Challenge?" Von Krolock kept his fingers lightly in contact with Herbert's skin, letting them slip to the other vampire's shoulder as the latter leaned forward to flick away the sheet that hid one of Alfred's hands.
They both hissed quietly as the image of the cross flashed fire-white across their vision before Herbert threw the sheet over it once more.
"You see, Father, they are serious about wanting to kill us."
"We shall give them a sporting chance." Von Krolock stooped, bringing his lips to Herbert's ear. "I believe you were complaining of a lack of entertainment for this year's ball?"
"It's so tiring when everyone has nothing better to do than to admire my beauty," Herbert murmured, leaning against his father's shoulder. "Or make a mess in the library, of course."
Von Krolock kissed his son's brow and straightened, brushing out the folds of his cloak. "We can't have that, of course. I'll be leaving the management of the guests in your hands."
Herbert laughed. "Such a hardship. I should gather energy for it."
Von Krolock watched his son's bright head lower to the boy's parted lips. He touched Herbert's back, once, as the younger vampire stretched out on the bed.
He melted into the shadows, letting them take him to the crypt below. He left the door ajar, illuminating the two bodies entwined on the bed. There was nothing they needed to hide in the darkness.
FIN
