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oliversrarebooks · 2 months ago

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The Rare Bookseller Part 72: Alexander's Resolve

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tw: mind control, dehumanization, possessiveness, sickness, doctor examination, drugging

October 1925

Lex's joys never lasted long.

The night was cold and clear, unlike the thick fog that had accompanied his and Fitz's reunion, and the bright moon overhead didn't suit Lex's dark mood. He was trying to fake high spirits, not wanting to mar Fitz's last night in the city, and as usual, he was failing.

"You look like you're heading to an execution. Actually, no, I think you would be more cheerful if you actually were heading to an execution," said Fitz. "I'll be back again before you know it."

That was a lie, and they both knew it. Lex keenly felt every moment they were apart. In the brief time they'd had together as master and thrall, they'd formed a deep bond, and turning Fitz had only strengthened it. Fitz living halfway across the world was like cutting out one of his lungs and flinging it across the ocean, or keeping half of his brain on the moon, unnatural.

"I know," said Lex, acquiescing to the lie. "But is it too much to hope that you'll visit sooner next time?"

"That's the first time you've asked me that."

"Is it?" That didn't seem right. But then, perhaps it was. He'd never been good at simply telling Fitz, or anyone else, what he wanted, for fear of being denied.

"It is. And since you've asked so nicely… I think it can be arranged," said Fitz. "Perhaps I could come for New Years."

"That soon!"

"Why not? You did say I should --"

"Yes," said Lex, fearful that Fitz would take it back. "Yes, come for New Years. That sounds perfect." This winter might actually be bearable if Fitz would be returning in just a few short months. And in the meantime, he'd have Oliver for comfort.

Oliver coughed politely behind his hand. Lex suspected that he might be feeling under the weather, as his eyes looked unusually tired and the smell of his blood was slightly off. He'd have to worry about that after seeing Fitz off.

"We should board soon, sir," said Roger, who once more had been relegated to dragging along the steamer trunk.

Fitz pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. "Unfortunately, you're right."

"I'm glad you're still carrying the watch I gave you," said Lex, trying to shove down the nasty cocktail of emotions brewing in his gut. "I understand if you have to go. I wouldn't want you to miss your --"

Cold lips were pressed to his as Fitz pounced upon him. One final moment of having his Fitz in his arms where he rightfully belonged, before his precious sired was torn away from him once more, separated by an ocean.

No, it was his sire who separated him. If it weren't for his sire, it would be safe for him and Fitz to be together, and nothing would separate them again. It was his sire who ripped away every joy he had in this wretched eternal life, no matter how small, and one day, he knew, he'd come for Fitz again, no matter how far away he lived. And perhaps even sooner, he'd come for Oliver, break his mind and spirit and rob the light from his eyes.

It couldn't be allowed. It wouldn't be allowed. This time, Lex couldn't fail.

Lex's anger at his sire mixed with the bittersweetness of Fitz's departure, and Lex returned the kiss with ferocity, backing Fitz up against a wall -- and the sound he made when Lex pinned him was beautiful.

God damn it, he would miss this.

It was over too soon, as it always was. Lex had to loosen his hold on Fitz and let him go, even as every instinct in his body screamed at him to take what was his. His fist clenched, nails digging into his skin, as Fitz walked away with Roger in tow.

He could stop Fitz, if he wanted. He could sing to Fitz, a sweet song of love and obedience, and watch his expression dissolve into a dreamy smile and glassy eyes. He was so gorgeous when he was under Lex's spell, swaying helplessly in Lex's arms, filled with bliss as Lex poured his power into his ears. It was his right as a vampire lord to do what he would with his sired -- he could take Fitz back and have him as blissfully enthralled as Oliver, and never have to suffer this wound again.

Except he couldn't, not when his sire was still there. And when Lex finally achieved his goal, was finally free, he wouldn't need to enthrall Fitz to make him stay. They could live together freely, go where they wanted and do as they pleased and keep their thralls safe, and maybe…

Maybe things could be good. Maybe Lex could be happy. Maybe Lex could begin to erase the decades of pain, and take back some small part of what he'd lost that night when the Maestro first took hold of his body.

It was that thought, more than any other, that stopped him from doing something he and Fitz would both regret.

And so he allowed Fitz to go once again.

"We should go home," said Lex, taking Oliver's arm in his. Despite wearing a fine woolen coat that Lex had provided, Oliver was noticeably shivering, and as they walked from the docks, he began to cough violently.

There was no ignoring it. Oliver was ill, hopefully with nothing serious. It had been some time since Lex had cared for a sick human, but he thought he still remembered. The first order of business was to get his poor thrall off his feet. Lex swept him into a princess carry, amused at Oliver's squeak of surprise.

"Sir -- what are you -- " His body was wracked with coughs again.

"You're clearly not feeling well at all. Why haven't you said anything?"

"I didn't want to worry you, sir. I'm sure it's only a cold."

"Only a cold or not, you're my thrall. I'm very invested in your health and well-being, as I hope you realize."

Oliver nodded weakly. "Yes, sir, I appreciate it."

Lex pressed a hand to Oliver's forehead and was not surprised to feel it hot as a furnace. Oliver leaned into the cold touch, closing his eyes. "You seem to be running a high fever, and your cough sounds bad. What else is troubling you?"

"I'm sore and tired all over, sir," said Oliver, cuddling against Lex in a way that he normally didn't. "My throat is awfully sore, and I'm congested. That's about all."

"You must have caught something from the other humans at the Tiger's Eye. There's always some irresponsible vampire who doesn't take proper care of their thralls. Now I regret taking you, especially with how distressed you were over Jessica's thrall."

"I'm glad I got to see what had become of her, sir."

"I suppose so." Lex pulled up what information he had about human illness from dusty corners of his mind. He should probably just call on Edith. She'd know the correct thing to do. "I'll take you home and get you into bed. Is there anything you'd like to eat or drink? I bought you some cans of soup recently, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir, there's still some canned soup in the pantry. Water to drink would be fine, or a cup of tea, if it isn't too much trouble."

"It isn't trouble at all. Just as you serve me, it's my responsibility to serve you when you need it."

"Thank you, sir." Oliver leaned into Lex's chest and closed his eyes, clearly exhausted.

As concerned as Lex was, he couldn't help but be endeared at how much his thrall trusted him. Fitz may have left him for now, but Oliver was right here, and he needed Lex.

And Lex needed him. He'd tried so hard to avoid becoming attached to another thrall after Fitz, buying very ordinary thralls with low quality blood that wouldn't interest his sire at all, keeping Henry and unfortunate Paul at arm's length. Lex hadn't fully appreciated how his lack of decent blood and decent service was diminishing him, not until he had no choice but to acquire Oliver. Oliver, whose blood was rich and full of life; Oliver, who fell under his spell so easily and completely.

That was why he had refused Fitz's last minute offer to take Oliver overseas with him. Certainly, it might spare Oliver from the looming threat of his sire, but Lex simply couldn't stand to see his new thrall taken away along with Fitz. He knew that without Oliver to keep his spirits up, he'd fall into cowardice and inaction once again, his weakness allowing his sire to press him firmly under his thumb.

When they arrived home, Lex carried Oliver upstairs to his own bedroom, which was only occasionally used now that Lex had given into the temptation to have his thrall warm his bed on cold nights. He stripped Oliver of his heavy coat and set him down on the side of the bed, and his thrall blinked at Lex slowly with bleary eyes. "You don't need to do a thing, Oliver. Just relax," said Lex.

Lex made quick work relieving Oliver of his shirt and pants, and Oliver's complete lack of resistance as he was undressed was an indicator both of trust and of how out of it the poor human was. He fetched some light pajamas from the dresser and a washcloth doused in cold water from the bathroom, to wipe the sweat from his too-warm skin. Soon, Oliver was bundled safely into his bed, his heavy eyes drifting shut even before Lex could sing to him.

Satisfied with his work, Lex went to the kitchen to heat water for tea. There was a loud knock on the door, and Lex groaned, in no mood for visitors. He peeped through the spyhole to see Lily.

"If this is a social call, I'm afraid I'll have to turn you down tonight," said Lex as he opened the door. "Oliver's taken ill, and I'm going to need to go fetch Edith."

"Jessica's dead," said Lily.

"What?"

"Exactly what I said, Jessica's dead."

Lex stared in shock. He'd never exactly been friends with Jessica -- their interests and personalities were far too different, and Lex couldn't stand her habit of discarding thralls that bored her. But they'd known each other for a very long time, and it seemed impossible that she could be dead. Lex let Lily into the house wordlessly, and they went to the music room to talk. Oliver's tea would unfortunately have to wait a few minutes.

"When did it happen?"

"The night we all went to the Tiger's Eye, apparently. No one's sure what went down, but her carriage was found empty the next morning. It was even in the human papers," said Lily, fiddling with her hair. "It seems likely it was a hunter who got her."

"But Jessica's been untouchable all these years. Any hunter who gets close enough to stake her falls under her power. Unless…"

"That's exactly why I wanted to be the one to tell you, because I knew what conclusion you would draw." Lily leaned forward, glaring. "Everyone's saying that it must have been the witch-hunter."

"Jessica knew about the witch."

"But she didn't believe the witch was real. Besides, you know how drunk she was by the time we left the club. Don't you think she could've been caught off guard?"

"I guess she must have." Lex's mind was working a million miles an hour.

"You need to be careful, Lex. I mean it! Jessica only lived a short walk away from here. You could so easily be next."

"Then I'll have to be ready for it."

Lily groaned. "I'm serious, Lex. At the risk of being disgustingly sincere… I don't know how I'd deal with it all if something happened to you. So just don't do anything stupid and reckless, okay?"

"I won't be careless like Jessica. I promise," he said, his face softening. "I don't want to get dusted. Not now, when I feel so close to having an existence that's worth it." Truthfully, Lex thought that Lily would be perfectly fine without him. And she'd certainly take Oliver if anything happened to him, and hopefully she'd send him to Fitz if she didn't want to keep him herself. Still, Lex was surprised at how vehemently he didn't want to be killed. That hadn't always been the case.

With her warning delivered, Lily left Lex to tend to his thrall, and Lex put the kettle back on. He took the hot tea up to Oliver, who was sleeping fitfully. Lex touched his forehead and found that it was still burning hot.

"Master?" said Oliver, his eyelids fluttering open.

"Shh, it's okay, Oliver. I brought you some tea if you'd like. Or if you want to just sleep, you can do that."

"Mmm." Oliver closed his eyes again, sinking into the pillow.

Lex's mind couldn't help but turn. The witch hunter was so, so close, and with her, a possibility of freedom, the spell to render his sire's control over him ineffective. All he really had to do was go out at night as though calling on friends or visiting the club, making himself a tempting target…

He hated to leave Oliver home by himself, but he'd only be a liability in the fight that Lex was seeking. He'd be perfectly safe locked up at home while Lex did what needed to be done, much as he was forced to leave Fitz behind when enthralling the guild, so many years ago.

It was exactly the sort of plan that Lily was warning him against, but he had to try. He couldn't let another opportunity to be free of his sire slip through his fingers with so much on the line.

His mind was made up.

"I'll protect you," Lex whispered to his sleeping thrall. "I'll protect you no matter what it takes. I promise I won't fail you."

---

Oliver was running, running through endless hallways, not getting any closer to his goal -- not that he was even sure what his goal was. He was late, he knew that much, and his efforts were inadequate, and he was in so much trouble --

There was someone calling for him. He wanted to respond, but his throat felt so dry and scratchy that he couldn't get the words out. He fell to the ground, coughing so hard he felt his ribs would split.

The coughing fit woke him up. As awareness returned to him, he realized that he was in his own comfortable bed and not some dingy hallway. Unfortunately, the burning pain in his throat was real, along with his headache, itchy eyes and sore muscles.

"Easy, Oliver." His master was by his side, rubbing his back so gently as Oliver coughed. "Here, drink some water. Slowly."

Oliver gratefully took the glass of water, and it took all his restraint to follow Alexander's instructions and not gulp it down. The water soothed his cracked lips and tortured throat, enough that he could croak out words. "Thank you, sir."

"Shh, you don't need to talk," said Alexander. "And you don't need to thank me. It's the least I can do, to take care of you when you're ill."

Oliver nodded, comforted to have his master near. Of course Alexander had every incentive to care for him, having paid so much money for Oliver, but Oliver was still relieved that the vampire was so dedicated. He'd been sick frequently his whole life, and he'd always had to suffer through his illnesses alone, huddled in his little bunk in the apartment above the bookstore, dragging himself a few feet to fetch water and whatever food he happened to have in the pantry. Having someone look out for him was a welcome change.

"I've brought Dr. Edith to see you. Will you let her examine you?"

Oliver hadn't even noticed the older woman standing near the doorway, the vampire doctor he'd met a few weeks ago. She was wearing a black walking dress and carrying a medical bag. He couldn't help but be a bit apprehensive about being examined by a vampire other than his master, but with Alexander right here, he should be fine. He nodded.

Alexander stepped back a few paces to allow Dr. Edith to sit by his bedside. "Hello there, Oliver. Your master tells me that you're running a fever and have a sore throat and a cough, is that right? You don't need to speak if it hurts."

Oliver nodded again. Her aura felt soothing, almost like a cool breeze. It made him want to close his eyes and go back to sleep.

She produced a thermometer from her bag. "Be a good boy and open your mouth. Here, I'll just put that under your tongue… and hold it there. Good." As Oliver lay there with the thermometer sticking out of his mouth, she opened one of his eyes wider with her fingers and looked in. "Follow my finger with your eyes, now. That's a good boy."

His eyelids were drooping as he tried to watch her finger up and down, back and forth. He couldn't help but wonder if she might be mesmerizing him, but then she stopped.

"Eye movements are normal. Let's see that temperature reading." She relieved Oliver of the thermometer and took a look. "No wonder you aren't feeling well, dear. We need to get that fever down, don't we?" She rummaged in her medical bag and pulled out a brown bottle and a small metal spoon, pouring out a generous amount of what was within. It smelled foul.

"What's in it, sir?" Oliver managed to say.

"It's medicine that will help with your cough and fever. You'll probably go right to sleep after you take it -- not that you need help sleeping with your master's abilities. But it's very important to reduce your fever."

Despite the compulsion to follow her words, Oliver balked a bit at the disgusting smelling medicine, glancing over at his master. "You should do as she says," said Alexander.

Left with no choice, he gulped the medicine, swallowing it as fast as he could and nearly gagging on the taste. Dr. Edith mercifully gave him some water to wash it down.

"That's a good thrall," she said. "Now I need to examine your chest. Just lie back and try to relax and breathe deep."

She began unbuttoning his pajamas with a no-nonsense attitude, and all Oliver could do was lie there as she exposed his chest and pressed a cold stethoscope to it. "Breathe in, dear. Now breathe out. Big deep breaths for me. Good boy."

She put the stethoscope down and began gently palpating him around the neck. "Nothing abnormal. Let me just see your bite scars. Alexander, are these his only bite wounds?"

"They are. I've only ever fed from his neck."

"Very good. Well, they don't look infected. Healthy and normal for a thrall."

Oliver was starting to feel strange as she pulled out another instrument to examine his ears. It was almost as if he were floating away from his body, watching himself on the bed from a distance.

"It's all right, Oliver," said his master, who was suddenly by his side again. "That's just the medicine kicking in."

He looked up at Alexander as his vision blurred, his eyelids threatening to close. He hadn't even realized that the doctor had finished her examination. He lay there, fighting to stay awake as Alexander and Dr. Edith discussed his condition.

"…give him a spoonful every eight hours or so. If his fever gets worse…"

"What would be a suitable thing to feed…"

"He's otherwise healthy, so he should…"

The next time he opened his eyes, Dr. Edith was gone, and Alexander was perched on the side of the bed, stroking his face and humming softly.

"You're going to be all right, Oliver. You should get some rest."

His master began to sing, and it wasn't merely a lullaby to put him asleep. In the notes of the song, Oliver could hear his master's commands to feel safe and to know he was cherished, and it put him at ease as he slipped back down, down, down into oblivion.

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There will be no new Bookseller next weekend, because I'm getting married. I think that's a fair enough excuse!

I may have other things to post in the meantime though, so don't touch that dial.

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