#valdemar x nonbinary reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

canadian-buckbeaver · 5 years ago

Text

Falling for a Count

In the early days of the plague you find yourself alone. Asra is gone. They had begged you to leave the city, to come with them and Faust, but stormed off in anger when you refused, leaving both Vesvuia and you behind.

But you couldn't bear to let Vesvuia fall, to watch as its citizens fell ill and died. Not when you thought that you could help. So you partner yourself up with Doctor Devorak, employed by the castle to find a cure for the plague and save the Count from its grasp. The more you work there though, the more you realize that there is more to the Count than you originally thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hopefully you guys enjoy. If you do, please like and reblog as Tumblr has me hidden from everything still and refuses to do anything to help me.

Count Lucio was a difficult man to work with.

Scratch that. You were far from his equal in any sense of the word. He was the war hero, the count, the leader of Vesvuia. You were nothing but a peasant in his eyes, one that was to worship the ground he walked on.

Let’s try that again.

During your work at the palace, you had discovered that Count Lucio was a difficult man to work for. Every little inconvenience was a worldwide disaster that needed to be solved yesterday. Tantrums were a daily, if hourly, occurrence. Screaming matches the norm. On the other hand, his wife, the beautiful and charming Countess Nadia, was an absolute dream to work for. On the worst days you told yourself that at least they balanced one another out. Add in that the castle was large enough to hide in and that Lucio demanded an entrance with every room that he entered and it was easy to simply avoid the man if necessary. IF it was necessary.

All in all, it wasn’t so bad being employed by the palace you supposed. The servants were always busy doing something or the other so they mostly stayed out of your way. The linens were the softest, thickest cloths that you had ever experienced. The food was incredible – the rumours about the chefs being world-class were not lies or embellishments. And Doctor Jules was a fantastic teacher and one hell of a doctor. He was an educated man, one that was filled with an endless supply of stories, facts and jokes. And despite you having very little medical background, he had been able to turn you into a fairly decent medical apprentice under him. Sure, he was a bit bashful and more than a little clumsy, especially after a few drinks at his favourite pub, but you enjoyed him as a teacher regardless. His patients all loved him despite their dire predicaments. He wasn’t Asra, but he would do.

Asra… what would they say if they could see you now? Your heart still ached when you remembered the way that they slammed the door behind him, leaving both you and Vesuvia behind. They had been so angry, furious that you would choose to remain in this sick and dying city than travel to safety with them and Faust. You just hoped that they understood. It wasn’t that you hadn’t wanted to go with them, because that would be a lie if you said that you didn’t. You loved nothing more than to travel with them, to explore the magical realms and dance the night away with them. If it had been any other time you would have grabbed their hand and followed them out those doors. However, this time, you couldn’t. Vesuvia needed you, the people you knew and loved were becoming sick and dying around you. You needed to help save them in whatever way possible. As long as you were alive and able, you couldn’t sit idly by and watch people die. The Red Plague needed to be stopped. It would be a crime to sit back and do nothing.

They would understand. They had to. After all, you guys had been through so much together. Asra was your best friend, your teacher and your lover. They were truly your everything. They wouldn’t throw that all away just for the sake of a misunderstanding, right?

Right?

The castle at least kept you busy, kept your mind off of them. The plague had quickly spread through the peasants and was quickly making its way through the middle class and the noble families. It was no wonder that Asra had run off when they did. The disease showed no mercy. It came, it conquered and then it killed and moved on to the next victim. It showed no sign of stopping, no remorse, no sign of a cure or preventative. No immunity. That was the reason why you and Jules had been called to the castle. Lucio himself had developed the red scleras that were characteristic of the plague but currently developed no other symptoms. No cough, no pale and sweaty skin and no blood. Heck, aside from his eyes, he was still his pompous self (though who knew how long that would last). He was a brat, a smart ass, a spoiled shell of a man who was used to glory and power, nothing standing in his way of something he wanted. He was not below acting out in the middle of the hallway or in the middle of public, throwing a fit if something was less than perfect…

But there was something else about him…

Of course, many, many moons ago, Asra had warned you to steer clear of him. They wouldn’t go into detail as to why, just that you needed to stay away from him. Apparently both them and Muriel worked for him as young and hungry orphans. But, other than that, they would say nothing. Just shake their head or say that they didn’t want to talk about it. Even when they were pressed, they would simply look over you with those shadowed violet eyes and just ask you to just trust them on this.

But now, especially with Asra gone, there was just something about the count that drew you to him. Was that aura of mystery that Asra kept around him? Curiosity perhaps? He was someone that you had never dealt with before, a complete wild card. Or maybe you were just a little more upset with Asra than you let on. That was probably more or less the reason behind it you told yourself.

Days turned into weeks as you and Julian toiled into the night, searching for anything that might lead to a breakthrough. Julian was sure that the key to a cure was in the infected’s blood. The symptoms, to him, pointed to blood being the answer. Their sceleras will turn red, the eyes bled, the patients coughed red spittle, looked pale and shaken. Surely there had to be some sort of connection between blood and disease. Jules’ beloved leeches were never more than an arm’s length from him at all times. He was constantly observing what the creatures’ reaction to the blood was. Together you two read book after book, pouring over the scribbles of doctors and nurses past. Yet their knowledge and discoveries seemed few and far between. And yet there seemed to be no shortage of patients or victims. Everyday there was someone being wheeled into the little dungeon that the other plaque doctors called a lab. Doctor Valdemar dissected brain after brain, body after body, noting the effects of the plague on the entire body.

Valdemar. That was another that you couldn’t get a proper read on. The green-skinned doctor seemed rather entertained, disturbingly enthralled with their work. And not in a discovering how to stop it sort of way. It seemed to be more of a general curiosity, an excuse to play and learn. Their smile would chill you to the bone. More than once, you had sensed their red irises on you, a creepy smile on their face. Like they knew something that you didn’t. The thought made you shiver and more determined to not be in the same room as them alone. Even Julian seemed more than a little shaken by the doctor’s actions.

Days passed and turned into months. You threw yourself into your work. Treating patient after patient, trying to provide what comfort that you could to them, reading book after book, anything to keep your brain occupied and busy. Thoughts and figures were scrawled down, reports written and reviewed. Anything that would prevent yourself from thinking on two certain boys that kept creeping into your dreams at night.

First, Asra… your teacher, your master. Your lover and friend. You hoped that both Faust and them were safe. Their anger still cut you deep when you recalled how they left you here but you didn’t wish them ill-will. You loved them too deeply for that. Even in your darkest moments you knew that they only sought to protect you. No matter where they ended up, anywhere was indeed better than here at the moment. Their predictions about the plaque were becoming scarily accurate. No one here was safe or immune from the disease and there was still no stopping it. They had probably sought shelter in his Oasis but it still didn’t abolish the thoughts that raced about in your brain. In your reoccurring nightmares you saw white, curly hair hanging over an operating room table while Valdemar’s bloodied saw creeping closer to their skull. It never failed to jerk you from your sleep, your heart aching in your chest.

And then… then there was the Count.

The Count was the complete opposite of Asra. Where Asra was reserved and secretive, preferring to keep certain emotions or parts of their history to themselves, Lucio was an open book. The whole castle knew when he was upset or angry, happy or pleased. Unafraid to publicly display his emotions if necessary or desired. He would reenact his greatest moments on the battlefield to any curious onlooker. Public or private, the setting didn’t matter. His temper tantrums were public knowledge. He was selfish and could often be considered cruel. And yet, there was something else, something that you just couldn’t put your finger on. Like the hard, sharp man was a bit of a front. On more than one occasion you had seen him playing with his hunting dogs. Two long-haired beauties that more than adored him. They weaved through his legs, knocking him over on more than one occasion and sending him sprawling to the ground. The two would be seen jumping up to kiss and lick at his face, their fur and drool covering him from head to toe. But Lucio would be far from furious. He would laugh and smile, petting them and cooing softly to them. Praising them and finding any random, dirty stick that he could to play fetch with them. Completely different from the count that would throw goblets of wine should a drop of gravy find its way to the snow-white tablecloth.

You couldn’t help but think that perhaps there was more to the Count than first met the eye. Sure, he was an ass but still. Dogs were animals that could tell a lot about a person and how they really were on the inside. His dogs wouldn’t act like this if he had nothing redeeming about him. He couldn’t just be an ass, could he? Right?

You couldn’t afford to be distracted by such trivial matters. Heaven forbid should Lucio ever discover that you considered him a trivial matter.

Time turned, life continued on, and the work never ended.

* * * * *

Stretching your back, you glanced outside of the windows of the clinic. It was another overcast day, one that held no heat or relief from whatever winter god or goddess kept you tight in their grasp today. It seemed that even the outside was mourning the newest deaths of the plaque today. With a sigh, you turned back to your sheet, continuing your report.

“… Katie (patient #0735) was seen today. Her eyes are completely bloodshot, irises remain the same colour. Her parents state that she has been crying tears of blood. Feeling weak, dizzy and lethargic. High fever and sore throat. No appetite but thirsty. Cried out for water in the middle of the examination. Drinking water provides no relief. Sweat was pink…”

The door to the clinic was thrown open. “Apprentice!” one of the servants from the castle called out, causing you to jump and bump the table that you were working at.

Thankfully you were able to grab the sheet of paper that you had been working on and save it from the spill of the ink bottle. Another mess to clean up. “What is it?” you asked, trying your best not to sound too annoyed at the interruption.

“My apologies.” The servant stepped forward, giving a small bow in apology. “It is the good Doctor. He has requested that you grab more ink, paper and a few of his books. He gave me a list to give to you.” The servant held out the sheet, careful not to touch your fingers.

You sighed as you looked over the note. That was no mere errand run. There had to be at least fifteen different things on the list. Why hadn’t he come as well? “Thank you. Did he mention when he needs it by?”

“Within the hour.”

“Within the hour?!?!” you croaked, looking at the list again. It would take the better part of that time to rush back to the castle from the clinic. He had to be ridiculous.

“I’m sorry. He said that he was on a roll and couldn’t leave…”

“Of course he did. Thank you. I’ll be there as quick as I can.” You promised the servant. Waiting until the servant left and closed the door behind them, you quickly grabbed a small satchel. You seized ink and paper, notebooks and quills. Anything small that could fit in the bag. You would need your hands free to carry the books that he wanted.

Minutes later you were about as ready as you were going to be. You gave Brundle a good scratch behind the ears before leaving the clinic, locking the door behind you. You didn’t need anyone sneaking in and stealing the painkillers again. That had been a mess and a half to clean up.

Rushing down the street, passed familiar face after familiar face. You supposed that the good thing about being Julian’s apprentice was that you got to go and be out and about, meet new people, see the neighbours. Many waved at you or cried out in greeting, others grabbed their partners or children, pulling them out of your harried way. You were on a mission and they knew better than to get in between you and it.

Panting, you approached the guard station in front of the bridge. The guards knew your face by now and let you in without incident. At least that wouldn’t slow you up this time.

But that meant that it couldn’t be your excuse for being late.

Stepping into the palace you knew that you couldn’t risk it. You needed to take the most direct route into the labs to see Julian. He was expecting you for a few minutes now. You couldn’t bear to be late again. The disappointment in his eyes had cut through your soul. He looked like Brundle when you took away his bone.

Hurrying faster, you rushed a corner without glancing behind first…

Running smack dab into a flesh and warm body.

With a cry, you stumbled, dropping the books as you tried to catch yourself from completely flattening your victim like a pancake. The person took a few desperate steps back, their hands grabbing your waist as they tried to catch themselves and you as well.

It was like slow motion. Papers flew everywhere, spilling out of your bag, a couple of quills floating slowly to the ground. Books thumping to the ground and spilling open, losing bookmarks and dog ears. Notes flew everywhere like a paper blizzard. You were no longer sure which way was up anymore. Everything was white.

And then you hit the ground, the other person breaking your fall on the hard marble floor. Even with the other person under you, the air was knocked out of your lungs, leaving you breathless and winded. A piece of paper had floated down, covering the face of the other person. Groaning, you sat back on your heels, rubbing at your head. That had hurt. “I’m so sorry,” you began to say. “I should have checked the corner first before running around it and…”

You froze, watching as a hand reached up and pulled the paper away from their face.

A golden gauntlet pulled the paper away from their face.

Red eyes stared daggers at you, sharp eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing into slits as they slowly sat up. Blonde hair was tousled and messy, the white jacket crumpled, and the red sash around their torso no longer straight.

Of all the people you could have run into, you, of course, had to run over, and trample, the Count.

The same Count who would scream at one who dared cough in his general direction.

The same Count who would hold public executions in the coliseum, the Scrouge literally ripping men apart, for something small and trivial.

And you, you, a mere commoner, had just run him over like he was some sort of speedbump.

You were so dead.

Maybe you could write a letter to Julian and ask him to share it with Asra before your passing.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, M’Lord.” You began grabbing the books and papers around the two of you. Paper was absolutely everywhere. It was an utter mess. And still, still, the Count coldly stared down at you, his eyes narrowed into red and yellow slits. “Just… just… just let me get this all out of your way and then I can help you up… I… I don’t want you to slip and fall… well. Again I suppose.” You continued to babble and make a complete and utter fool out of yourself. as you seized the papers that were out of his way. Only then did you offer him a hand.

He glared at you a moment. He was still quiet, not a word had fallen from his mouth. He stared at your hand for a moment before looking back up at you. Oh, you must have really offended him. You quietly gulped, already thinking of what you can put in a farewell letter to Asra should the Count decide to kill you for your transgressions.

Then, remarkably, he took your hand. Not with his metal gauntlet, but with his flesh and blood. His hand was warm and soft, probably having been bathed in the finest ointments that gold and money could buy. Swallowing hard, still mentally preparing yourself for the tongue lashing that you were undoubtedly about to receive, you carefully pulled him up.

“There we are Count Lucio,” you told him once you had him on his feet again. You lowered your head to him as you apologized, already hearing him readjusting his cloak and clothing. “Again I am so very sorry and…”

“COUNT LUCIO! ARE YOU OK?” One of the guardsmen were rushing over to you two, their helmet bouncing on their head. “I SAW EVERYTHING! I’LL HAVE THEM THROWN INTO THE DUNGEON TO AWAIT THEIR SENTENCING…” They seized you by the arm and had already started to pull you away from him. Your heart fluttered into your chest. Oh no. This was it.

And Julian was never going to get his books.

“That isn’t necessary.” Count Lucio said to the guard, brushing himself off.

Both you and the guard froze at his voice. “Erm… sire?” the guard asked, perplexed. “Are… are you sure? I mean… I…”

Lucio finished adjusting everything, looking every inch the Count he was. His white linens practically glistened in the sunlight, the medals on his sash blinding you with light. “If you truly did see everything than you would have noticed that I ran into them.”

You were sure that your mouth was hanging open by about an inch. Count Lucio… blamed himself? But this was the man who was never wrong.

“My lord? Are… are you sure��?”

Count Lucio turned towards the guard. “Did I stutter or make myself anyway unclear for you to understand? Or perhaps your helmet of yours is too tight to help you think properly. I said I ran into them. You will do no such thing with one of the doctor’s apprentices. Do I make myself clear?” his words were cold and sharp.

The guard gulped, springing into a salute. “Yes, M’Lord.” He said before rushing back off to whatever corner he was from.

The Count turned towards you. “Pick up your papers and books and don’t leave my hallway in such a mess. Next time you chose to run about my castle, watch where I am walking first. I do not want this to happen again.” Without another word, the Count tossed his cloak over his shoulder and continued walking. Your knees were shaking as you began to gather the rest of Julian’s items. You hoped that the ink wells didn’t crack open in your little collusion with the Count.

In what seemed like no time at all, you were rushing down the steps to the dungeon offices of the many doctors. You could hear flasks moving, instruments being dropped and moved. “Doctor Julian? Doctor Julian, are you still in here?” you called out. Valdemar looked up from their table and gave you a familiar smirk before turning back to their experiment.

“In my office! Why are you so late?” the familiar burr answered, the sound of pen scratches never ceasing.

You sighed in relief. “You wouldn’t believe what happened…”

* * * * *

It had been some time since the incident with the Count. You had noticed that the Count seemed to be more aware of you whenever you passed by. If you were in the same room you would see that he was always within your line of sight. If you passed by him you could feel his eyes on you, watching you like a hawk. If you and Julian were eating supper with the other doctors you would often see him eyeing you from over the table. If you and Julian were outside hunting for leeches, he would be outside as well, playing with his dogs.

You would have thought that it was simply your imagination until Jules had commented on it as well.

“Seems like Lucio is keeping a closer eye on you than usual lately.” The doctor quietly remarked to you as the two of you headed back into the dungeon.

You sighed, looking around to make sure the coast was clear before replying. “I think he’s worried about me running into him again and causing a bigger disturbance.” You said quietly. Julian and Lucio went back, way back. Back before Lucio was the Count of Vesvuia. Julian could probably get away with saying a few more things than you could.

Julian shook his head. “You should have seen the last person to run into him. That man was chased out of the castle before anyone else could react.”

“Sounds like the man has a temper.” You said quickly, causing Julian to give a bark of laughter.

“My dear apprentice, that is one way to describe it. Have I ever told you about the time that Lucio…” Julian never got to finish his sentence before the two of you were interrupted.

There was a furious stomping heard from around the corner as the two of you approached. The Count, again in his pristine white glory, was furiously making his way towards the two of you. His red and yellow eyes staring into Julian. “JULES!” he barked causing the both of you to jump. “I have a headache, fix it!” his eyes glittered dangerously, daring him not to mess with him.

“Yes sir, right away sir!” The doctor managed to get out as he rushed away. Leaving you alone with the Count. Nodding to him quickly, you turned to follow Julian out.

“Not you.” Count Lucio said, his hand reaching out and grabbing your shoulder, pulling you in front of him again. You froze as those eyes looked you over, scrutinizing every inch of your body. You quietly gulped, trying to hold your knees still and keep them from shaking. His golden gauntlet came under your chin, poking your head up. Forcing you to look up into those dangerous eyes. What was he thinking? Perhaps he was thing how he should have had you executed when you ran him over in the hallway? Or maybe he knew something about your past before you met Asra. Or maybe…

“Feel like playing a real game of doctor today?” he asked with a smug purr, shooting you a winning smile as his dimples winked at you. There was a faint dusting of blush on his cheeks, instantly making him look more personable and alive.

You gaped at him like a fish. Did… did he really just say that? Like… your face was going red, you could feel it. “I… I mean… I…”

His gauntlet seized your hand. “Excellent. Follow me then. I know this castle like the back of my hands.” He winked at you again before pulling you through a seemingly solid wall. The wall rippled around you, the magic cold and dense, before it ebbed away, swallowing you up like you were never there.

118 notes · View notes