#Yanako Lee

[ultimaxell]

Until we fall: Vampire Au

It was storming, thunder crashing through the night air, lightening flashed in bright spurts across the dark clouds. It was calming in a sense. An uncontrolled chaos. A force that no one could reckon with. A force that not even the vampire kings could control, or take away. There was peace in the thought, and it was about the only peace she was going to get tonight it seemed.

It had been days since she had seen the outside of the small cell she was in. Her only connection to the outside were those vivid purple eyes that stared at her across the bars. Watching her intently, though to an untrained eye she looked stoic, impassive, Requiem could see. See the worry that lie under that expression, the nerves bundling deep in Ashlin. But her own blue eyes flicked back to the small window in the cell, watching the clouds roll with a new-found intent.

  “You need to eat Req.”

  Requiem pressed herself against the cold stone of the wall, slumping until her arms rested limply over her tummy, knees brought up for the mere comfort. She could feel her eyes on her still, feel their worried gaze passing her, over and over again. It was a bit of habit for the momma bird of a leader. Worrying just to worry about something other than herself. One that Requiem could not quite find the heart to put up with today.

  “Can you talk Ashlin? You haven’t touched anything in days.”

  “Requiem… how do you expect t-“

  “Do you think any of them are even still looking for us? Or do you think they gave up? And think we’re dead… I can’t say I’d blame them if they did… I would have.”

  Requiem shifted her leg, dropping it to allow her foot to press flat against the ground. Her body lifted up but not without a pain filled wince. Sure, the leech had healed her, but it seemed her body was unwilling to fully cooperate. Causing ghost pains at movements that should not have caused anything. But still she could feel her organs tugging at a bone that was no longer lodged into her haphazardly. She could still feel that blade sliding across her skin, flaying pieces. She could still feel those eyes on her, that smug smile turned her way. She could still feel his hands on her, it was sickening. Her own hands traced the patterns over her body that he had and in the midst of it she could feel the nausea climbing up her spin, churning in her guts as she swung her other legs down. Only to allow her body to curl, her elbows resting on the tops of sore thighs catching onto her cheeks as she turned her gaze to Ashlin.

   “Sorry… I’m not feeling myself at all. I feel… different.”

 ------

 Different…. That was one way to put what was happening to them, and it was definitely one of the kinder words that could be used. Ashlin watched her, cool eyes never straying from the body of her smaller sister for longer the it took for the thunder to roll above their heads, outside, through the windows that bared them, more torturous then the hands of the vampires had been because the windows were simply a state of freedom no longer in their grasp. Ashlin watched her sister as she moved subtly, trying to not take any offence to the words flowing from the darkling with an archer’s precision, venom laced in each word to make it hurt.

 Logically she knew that she should take no offence to it. Her sister had always been short tempered, the snapping and agitation was nothing new to the brunette. But there was something about it, a similar song playing in her veins as she felt her body shake just that one more time, her breath still invisible but for the life of her, Ashlin could not get warm. Her body ached, screamed, she couldn’t find one comfortable position to sit in or rest and it was starting to show in the bags under her eyes. Irritation was starting to rip at her skin, at the mask she so desperately clung to now. Her mind raced, even as she shifted once more in that futile effort to get comfortable, her gaze lingering on Requiem before trailing down to her hands.

 They did something to them.

 The question was…. What was they had done? Why was it they hadn’t seen them since that day, with all the creatures, monsters, watching as they spilled their own blood and forced them to drink from them. Was it a humiliation tactic? A way to show them they were nothing? No better than them?

 The thunder rolled again, answers in a language she could never understand.

 The storm moved on.

 Ashlin wished she could take it all away, wished she could simply reach into Requiem’s cell, past the bars that had her cages and locked away in this dark sullen part of the Vampire’s castle. She wished she could sooth her fears, could ease the pain she felt, significantly more than hers had been, and she wished that if nothing else they had placed the sisters in the same cell, so that Ashlin could actually feel her sister, sooth her hair back and whisper her thoughts to her.

 But they didn’t.

 “You know better than that, Reqqy.” Her voice was soft, almost horse as her dry throat closed and surged with pain again.

 “If no one else, Perilium and Abby will never stop. And I feel bad for anyone who dares tell them to stop long for us… You say you would have stopped but I know you…. You would never leave a sister behind.”

“I know, it’s just…”

 Whatever she was going to say seemed to fade away, as the words died on her lips. Ashlin’s gaze moved from her once more, to the plate of food, food that really, she never expected from them. She expected gruel, mash, some sort of loaf and water, something that wasn’t made for taste but rather to simply keep her alive. Instead, every day, a hot meal was brought in, served on a beautiful platter and definitely arranged with care, almost lovingly so. It was never anything disgusting, always something that had her mouth watering and begging her to just dive in, but for the past few days, she had held out, refusing to give them the change to off her off silently.

 But there was only so far that she could go, and Ashlin was starting to break.

 “How are your wounds?”

 She changed the subject, partially because she didn’t want to face the growing possibly that her sister were not coming, that she would die here, in this cell, only a window to let her watch as the outside world passed her by, and the other part was to take her mind off the food she refused to eat.

 -------

  “Their fine. I’m just sore now. Don’t worry about me.”

  Her fingers played over the back of her neck, her head dangling precariously between her legs. The motion did nothing to sooth the nausea that was running wave after wave over her being. Though it was on most part due to the fact it was her own hands trying to sooth herself. She needed something, the feeling crawling through her in a sort of dazed manner. It was the only thing she could concentrate on. The only thing her mind could clearly focus enough on to recognize this.

Her eyes grazed over the food that sat in the elaborately decorated plates. But the mere thought of the food had her stomach doing back flips. Repulsed her thoroughly enough to force her back against the cold slab of stone. What was it… What did she want?

  Blue eyes flicked to the goblet that stood so prettily next to the platter. Inviting all on its own. The longer she stared at it the stronger she could feel the itch in her throat, the burning building up in her chest as she stared the silver down. The motions were slow at first, leaning partially to look inside the content of the cup. If only to see the color of the liquid, which from this stance she could see the vivid red of what she could only guess was wine.

  Thunder rolled once again followed directly by the flash of the lightening that had Requiem standing, her eyes never wavering from the cup that stayed stark still. She stared it down as if a single second of her attention shifting would cause it to up and disappear. Pale finger came up to grasp at her throat, the fingers digging into the flesh just as she bent over the cup, her other hand finding the stem.

  Icy eyes flicked to Ashlin, who still had not let her gaze drift or even move. Her sister watched her just as intently as Requiem had been watching the cup. Her fingers pressed into the silver stem as her lips quirked.

  “What about your’s? Are they doing any better?”

 -----

  “It’s been days. Five, if you want to be exact. We can’t just keep them in cages like wild animals. They aren’t sleeping, they are not even eating.”

  “Do you think we would have got the same courtesy if the situation had been reversed, Abram? Whhat do you suggest we do? Let them leave? Place them on probation? No. The fact of the matter is they are leaders to a rebellion. They aren’t going anywhere and they are not leaving these grounds. Not alive.”

  Abram could feel the frustration rising in his gut, the small rumbles already building again as they seemed to do every time he thought about the brunette. Anytime he imagined those tear-filled eyes. God, she had a way of getting to him when she was not even around. And he did not even know her name.

  His father moved from his mother’s as he stood, flattening both on the oak wood that laid out in front of him. And Abram could feel that sickening feeling rising over him once more. Knew the words that were about to come from his father’s mouth even as he watched him part his lips, the words barely on his tongue before Abram cut him off again.

  “I won’t kill her. Do what you want with the other, but the brunette is mine.”

  There was a crash as his father’s fist slammed against the table, his own blue eyes closing in the frustration. Alder sighed, his finger coming up to press against the bridge of his nose. The slow growl that was building up in his throat tumbling out with his words.

“Abram. She is not a animal. You said it yourself. You cannot just keep her.”

“She’s mine. Not a single person is going to harm her, ill snap the neck of any person that tries. And if that mean you Dad, then I’m just going to have to count you as one of the casualties of this war.”

  “Abra-“

  His mom started, her eyes stern as she stood from her husband’s side. And Abram paused only for a second his eyes shifting over Soven and Arber then Carson. He was shaking again, his hands grasping the table to keep a sort of semblance of calm.

  “I’ll take out the whole court if I have to.”

 -----------------------

 “I really don’t think there’s going to be any need for that, tovak.”

 His voice was soothing, calm, and wholeheartedly….a lie. Inside he was boiling, freezing, raging with the vengeance of an army, and it was just barely he was able to keep the trebling from his limbs, sheer force of will that he had yet to break out into a sweat as the fire licked along the ice that was in his veins. It was a terrible contrast, one that had him tossing and turning, sleep avoiding him like the plague, different from his usual set of nightmares, flashes, vision of what and need, nothing new but still something utterly foreign. Where sleep avoid him, The nightmares filled in the void, a living horror he could not escape, and instead, Carson found himself wandering the halls, his body shaking, his stomach heaving up bile as she tried to shake whatever it was that had gotten hold of him.

  His head throbbed, pounded with every bit his heart made and all Carson wanted to do was close his eyes, curl up with Either Abram and Asher or His brother, to sleep it away… but his body ached, and his throat felt dry, burned with a thirst he could not quench. Oh, and how he had tried.

 Even now, he could taste the still vivid burst of blood on his tongue, could still feel the thrashing as more than ten people had lost their lives that morning, filling him to the brim, to the point that he felt, should he drink anymore, he might just burst…. And he had hoped that this would be enough to sooth the beast in him that had awaked some night ago, the monster in his that plagued his mind and clawed at his throat to draw the ravenous need to the forefront of his mind, but it wasn’t. No not nearly enough.

 Was he dying? Was he sick? He had never heard of a vampire getting sick, not like this, and so his mind, blurry, hazy as it was, was trying to piece together this jigsaw of a riddle, but it seemed he had more than just a few pieces missing, crucial ones needed to see the whole picture.

 “Dad…” Carson started, watching as His father’s gaze snapped toward him from his position of the edge of His Uncles desk. Soven’s hands were playing with his mother’s hand, running fingers along her knuckles and palm, a clear sign his father was thinking, his mind racing, though his eyes flicked back and forth between the two boys, Abram still staring his father down as Carson took that step forward, his hand finding the brunette’s shoulder to off her a light squeeze.

 “It might be… more beneficial to you if you allow us to take them. Think about it.” He spoke quickly as he saw his father’s lips part to say something, the word no already ringing in his ears.

 “As of now it’s been five days. No one as managed to make them eat, or sleep, none of your best torturers, none of your advisors. As it stands now, you are only going to end up losing to very valuable assets, and any information they would have had is lost. Just give them to us… Abram and I will take full responsibility for them, will take on all responsibility for what they do and the information they give us. We’ll take care of them, as it will sooth Abram’s possessive nature and will give me a chance to work them over, get something out of them this time.”

 “What make you so sure you can even do it, Carson?”

 His father’s words made his words stubble, stutter as he fell silent for a moment in blank shock. His father looked up from his mother’s hand turning to finally fully face the dark haired boy, and Carson could feel his body being to shrink back again, falling in on itself as he felt five and mortal all over again.

 “What?” Carson question, his hands clenching as his father moved, easily, regal without even trying, letting go of his mother’s hand with a light kiss on her knuckles before he turned back to his Youngest son, eyes stern but there was that warmth, the one that had been missing from nights ago.

 “What your asking is a heavy price, Carson. The sway, possibly the very result of this war, will rest solely on your shoulders. That means and casualties, and failures, and wrong information they might give you, that all resides on you. You’re asking us to place the existence of our specie in your hands, when you can’t even control your temper at a little spit.”

 “But-“

 “My answer is no, Carson. I can’t risk them getting the better of you. Abram’s already proved he more than willing to let her live no matter the cost, and you couldn’t even control yourself last night-“

 “YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT!?”

 Carson could feel it, that swell of temper that surged up in his chest and burned its way to his tongue. All he could hear was ringing, all he could see was flashes, those visons again of her, bright eyes and dark hair falling around her face, and his father words ringing in his head. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt but that pain fueled him, pushed him forward as one hand grasped the side of the desk, a low roar falling from his lips as he flipped it, pushing it into the air and sending it flying into the wall next to them. The old wood shattered, splintered into nothing under the strength of his royal blood, but Carson paid it no mind, his eyes wide and focused, solely, on his father.

 “YOU THINK NOT A MINUTE GOES BY THAT I DON’T THINK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED!? I planned to kill her, I planned to do what I was supposed to, But I COULDN’T! Something told me to not, that it would be a mistake, and I followed my gut, like you’ve always told me too. And now your punishing me for it? No, that’s BULLSHIT! Give her TO ME!  SHE’S MINE, Been MINE SINCE THE MOMENT SHE WALKED IN THAT DOOR, MY TARGET, AND You keep allowing FILTHY FUCKS to Touch her! I’ll get the information you need, and I’ll do it without killing her. I’ll get everything you want, just give her to me as my pet.”

 Soven didn’t move, only started down his son, who was breathing heavily, his hands clenched and his body shaking with what Carson could only assume was repressed rage. Carson watched his father look over him, watched as he crossed his arms and finally closed his eyes, rolling his head to look over at his Uncle, who seemed mildly disturbed by the fact his desk had been taken as a casualty. Soven’s eyes flickered with meaning, and even with his training, Carson could not hear the words in their minds.

 “Fucking great.” Alder’s voice snapped, his uncle pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. Soven sighed, before he turned his head back to her, blond hair falling in his face as he tilted his head slightly at his son.

 “You fight strongly for her, Ulvar.”

 “I do.”

 “Why?”

 Carson didn’t really know. He could say he did, make up something, but the fact is, Carson could not tell you what it was that drew him to this girl so much. He needed her, needed to see her, there was something drawing him to her and the longer he stayed away, the more it was starting to bother him. His stomach was already screaming, flipping and churning bile in his gut. No words came to mind to explain this feeling, but Carson’s mouth parted. His father wanted something from him, and Carson Strived to deliver.

 “She’s mine. Mine to break, and it feels wrong for someone else to get that victory.”

 Soven narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. Carson’s heart dropped…. He had answered wrong.

 “Very well, Ulvar… Take your prize. Just recall these conditions are yours. Anything they do… reflects on you. Not us.”