#also. this isn't cannon to fenn & eztli's story but it was a fun thought that came to me after doing his quest in west weald

[elreyesvidal]

The Smell of Blood (F!VestigexFennorian)

AN: What if the events at Valente Vineyard happened a little differently? Just a little something that popped into my head thanks to the quest with Fennorian in West Weald. I’ll be calling the Vestige, “Eztli” like my main vestige just for the sake of using a name. (Contents: Mentions of blood.)

Fennorian couldn’t help but wonder how much of the strange wine Ursilia had drunk. He didn’t drink wine anymore, but based on the description of the taste from Gallio’s servant, it felt safe to assume it didn’t have the best flavor. Even so, did she really manage to drink so much that the scent of her blood was overwhelming to him?

These thoughts crossed his mind as he began searching through his bag for ingredients to make an antidote of sorts that would at least flush the wine out of her system. Although he hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation between Eztli and Ursilia, he immediately noticed when the former left the room.

Ursilia’s blood smelled good, but it had nothing on the intoxicating scent that was no longer present. With momentary clarity, Fennorian managed to whip up an antidote for Ursilia, before heading out to follow Eztli.

He had made extra of the antidote, perhaps this would help her out as well. She must have ended up drinking some to blend in, or to avoid drawing suspicion by refusing it, after all, she had talked to Gallio directly. He knew she wasn’t careless enough to drink it on accident.

Once he went through the door Eztli had gone through, the scent of her blood hit him like a tidal wave. Now that it was just the two of them, it was clear as day that it was the scent of her blood that was calling to him, tempting him, like a siren lures a sailor into the depths of the ocean.

“Fennorian, what is it?” Her question brought him out of his thoughts, but even still, the antidote became forgotten in his bag. Her gaze was curious as she looked over her shoulder, “We should start looking for Gallio’s alchemical setup and anything else he is using to make this strange wine.”

They had things to do, places to be, and yet, he could not stop his hand from reaching out to take ahold of her wrist as she turned to lead the way. She instantly stopped, her lips having parted slightly as a gasp escaped her.

“You had some of the wine.” Fennorian stated instead of asking. A part of him felt like he needed to explain his sudden action and the only way he managed that was by stating something apparent. Eztli could only nod in response, even though she understood it wasn’t a question.

His eyes landed on her parted lips, lips he had thought about kissing more times than he’d like to admit; but his focus didn’t remain long on them this time as he felt her pulse jump under his grasp. A pulse that before long, he learned to pick out from a crowd. Her skin was warm against his cold hand and somehow felt like it got warmer the longer he held on.

Slowly, and as if under a spell, he slowly lifted her wrist to his lips. Another sharp intake of breath on her end as he brushed his lips against the vein on her wrist. It seemed like he was inhaling her scent at the same time. All she could do was watch him, mesmerized. He had never acted like this before, but it was not unwelcome. She only worried about how obvious her desires were, as her pulse quickened at the contact. As much as she wanted to say his name, she didn’t, worried that it would have shattered the moment.

Red eyes suddenly shift focus to her face, but instead of meeting a familiar stare, she meets a new one, full of desire. Briefly, his eyes landed on her lips, but then shifted to her neck. The room no longer felt large, their breaths became in sync as the proximity between them increased.

The smell of her blood continued to draw him in, “Your scent—your blood, is…” He had barely managed to speak those words before one of his hands began brushing her hair aside to expose the side of her neck. He could practically taste the blood flowing through her veins with how her scent was continuing to overwhelm him.

It dawned on Eztli then, this sudden change in Fennorian was because of her blood, no not because of her blood, because of the wine she drank. She had been so distracted after learning more about his past that she had failed to connect the dots. She had drunk the wine, and shortly after, learned that the wine was for the consumption of mortals specifically, that way vampires could drink it without it hurting them; and it was supposed to strengthen them among other things.

A part of her could not deny that she wanted him to bite her, to drink from her, but not like this. There was an unknown factor, the wine in her system, that could hurt him. Although it wasn’t poisonous to him in this state, it could affect the control he had over his thirst.

Words began to form but instantly died in her throat as the tips of his fangs grazed her neck. Not enough to have pierced skin but enough to send a shiver down her spine.

“Fennorian,” she could not contain herself from sighing his name, and felt her resolve crumbling as he pulled her against him, closing any remaining distance between them.

She had to focus.

Her hands came up to grab at his shoulders, as if that would center her. Any other time and she could let it happen, but not in that moment, not like that. So, she tried again, “Fenn.” The nickname seemed to snap Fennorian out of his trance.

“Eztli?” He seemed dazed but once he realized their position, he had let go immediately and took a few steps back.

“I’m sorry, the wine,” He truly seemed ashamed, something she didn’t like seeing, but she could not go to him, not while her blood still tempted him.

As the thought crossed her mind, Fennorian seemed to remember something as he reached into his bag.

“Here, it’s the same antidote I had made for Ursilia. I’m uncertain of how quick or effective it’ll be, but it’s safe to consume.” In his outstretched hand, he held a small vial. She took it and drank it without hesitation, trusting his expertise. She had also noted how he stepped a bit further away, turning his back to her. She guessed that he needed to drink from his flask, after what had almost happened between them, in an attempt to settle his thirst.

Still unsure if she should get closer or not, she remained where she was, “Fenn, I’m sorry. I should have mentioned to you sooner about the wine. It had completely slipped my mind with the investigation going on.”

He turned to look at her, noticing the guilt that filled her features, he took a few steps closer. “No, don’t apologize. It’s neither of our faults really, there’s a lot going on. I’ve made significant progress with controlling my thirst, but this wine…”

Eztli looked up expectantly, waiting for him to continue his train of thought. He took a deep breath, as if resolving himself for what was to be said next.

“Actually, if I’m being honest, I do not think it was just the wine. I’m certain Ursilia had more than you and yet, it was your blood that was making me lose myself.” Avoiding eye contact, he continued, “It’s possible that this was the case because of some unsaid feelings I have had for you, for quite some time. I think my desires may have conflated, in this instance.”

At this, she could not help but perk up.

“I know now is not the time for this conversation, we have dallied enough.” Before disappointment could fill her, he finished, “But, when this is over, could we talk?”

She smiled at him as he turned to look at her with an almost bashful expression. “Of course, I look forward to it.” And with that, they continued in their mission together.