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"Are you ready?"
Soft moonlight enters the room through two grand windows and illuminates the ethereal being standing in the doorway, his hand stretched out towards Owen. Mesmerizing crimson eyes gaze at brown ones, dimmed from sickness. There's a familiar fond smile on Louis's face, framed by a halo of white hair that truly makes him look like an angel, a very fitting comparison given the situation, the salvation he was about to deliver.
Seeing him like that helps ease Owen's anxiety for what is about to happen. He takes a step forward and reaches out with his own hand, still hesitant about physical touch, but he trusts the other. However, once their hands are finally joined, his steps falter, a sudden, violent coughing fit assaulting his body, his other hand coming up to his mouth on reflex and catching some of the blood that comes out, something that was becoming more and more common to see during these episodes. Louis is quick to react and hold him properly, soothing him through the painful act, his delicate features filled with concern. "Shh, hey, you're okay… It's going to be okay…"
Gentle hands rub his back, and Owen leans into the touch, too tired and distressed to care about the close contact. When the coughing finally subsides he doesn't pull away as he normally would, although he feels like he wouldn't be able to stand on his own anyways. He takes as deep of a breath as he can still manage, then raises his head to meet the other's concerned gaze. "I'm… ready. Please."
Louis raises a hand to his face, settling it against his cheek after wiping some drops of blood from the corner of his mouth. His expression is still tinged with concern, and even a little bit of guilt, but the overwhelming emotion is relief at the confirmation, knowing it will all be over soon. "Come on in, then. Let's get you somewhere comfortable."
He is led by the hand into the room. It's not very luxurious, but it's certainly more so than anywhere Owen has ever stepped foot in. Unlike the rest of the manor, which is pristine but bland, this space seems to have been carefully curated, with plush rugs and seats, some of them arranged near a fireplace, all in a deep red color. The most prominent feature of the room is the raised bed, which he is brought towards, climbing up a few steps with some difficulty before finally coming to a stop in front of it. The sheets and blankets are just as comfortable and red as the rest of the furniture in the chamber, with big curtains hung in a way that, if drawn, the sleeping space would be fully enclosed.
Suddenly, he feels quite shy. This is Louis's bed, or nest, as he has explained to him before. It's a very intimate space for the other, and he doesn't want to dirty it with his presence.
He does his best to put those thoughts aside. They've been working on this.
A reassuring hand settles on his shoulder. "You can get comfortable however you want, Owen. From now on… this is as much yours as it is mine." These words make him blush and shyly nod. Louis moves so that they're facing each other, smiling. "Do you… need any help?"
"No, I um… I think I can…" Owen looks away, embarrassed.
The taller man moves away with a small chuckle. "Alright, I'll give you some privacy then."
Once he is left alone, he starts pulling at his clothes and the bandages around his neck. His boots are placed neatly against the wall. After a short time, he is left in only a simple linen shirt and pants. Thankfully, Louis had lit the fireplace in the meantime, so he isn't feeling too cold, but he still moves to the bed right away, carefully, and settles into a comfortable position.
It doesn't take long for the other to return, carrying a few extra pillows that get tucked into seemingly random corners before the vampire turns his attention back to him, a satisfied smile on his face and the beginnings of a rumble (a purr…?) from his chest. Louis is already dressed down too, and pauses only to remove his own boots and set them aside before joining Owen in the nest.
"You remember what I told you about how this is going to go right?" The nod he gets in return encourages him to move closer. "Alright, but I still want to go through it once more, just to make sure."
The process would be relatively simple, done in the least painful way that it could. Louis would drain his blood, injecting some of his venom to help ease the pain; then, when the timing is right, he would be fed some of the vampire's blood, something that isn't necessary, but would, in the end, create a stronger bond. After that, he would receive the bite with turning intent, and his heart would finally stop beating as the Embrace is completed. Once that was done, he should awaken soon after, finally free from his dreadful sickness.
He listens in silence as this is repeated to him again, nodding along.
There's a brief pause. "Shall we get started, then?" Louis gestures as if asking for permission to move closer, only touching him after it is given. He then carefully maneuvers Owen so that the human is sitting sideways on his lap, while he comfortably leans against the headboard. They both feel shy, and, if one of that wasn't a vampire, they would have a matching blush.
"…I think I'm ready."
Louis smiles, one of his hands coming up to tangle in curly brown hair, gently guiding the other to tilt his head and holding it securely. A soft kiss is pressed against the human's neck, right above his pulse point. "I'll try my best not to hurt you, I promise."
The next thing he feels is the vampire's sharp bite, quickly soothed by venom rushing through his veins. He lets himself go boneless as his consciousness dims, lulled by the closeness and by the sounds the other is making, definitely similar to purrs.
Owen is on the verge of losing awareness when the draining feeling stops. He barely registers the way Louis moves and the tiny hiss as he makes a small cut on his own wrist with a sharp claw, then brings the open wound close to the other's lips. He croons at him, encouraging him to drink, and he obeys, swallowing what he is offered despite the odd, metallic taste. After a few moments, the hand is pulled away, and he feels a harsher bite on the same spot as before.
And so, in the safety of his lover's arms, in the comfort of his their nest, Owen's breathing finally slows, his heart coming to a stop, and he is embraced by the darkness.
The last thing he hears as everything goes black is, "I love you, Owen…"
Nothingness.
A vast, empty feeling.
Floating in the void.
And then.
Something snaps into place.
He is aware of another, despite not being aware of himself.
He feels their pull, but the dark still has a hold on him, his body still in the process of mending itself.
Next, there's red, and there's an odd taste that gets sweeter with each passing moment. Images and feelings flash through his mind, but they're not his own thoughts and emotions.
The soft touch of a mother's hand.
The gentle bite on a tiny neck.
The frustration from growing too slowly.
The lessons and kindness instilled.
The conflict of finally growing, but it feeling like the wrong body.
The acceptance and comfort from a sire.
The euphoria of finding an identity that seems right.
The assortment of sights and scents from travel.
The rage at those with evil intentions.
The sadness and pity towards the ones hurt by them.
The hunger from being unable to bear taking from those in need.
The discovery of purpose in a remote corner of the world.
The looks of disdain and jealousy masked with silvery words from cunning humans.
The commanding presence of an ancient being that permeates the land.
The desire to care for someone lonely.
The joy of finding his other half, and the prospect of sharing his gift, sharing eternity.
His brain takes it all in and stores it in a safe place.
He's still floating.
He doesn't know quite where he is, or what is happening.
But then, things change again.
An ominous sense of foreboding.
A growing feeling that something is horribly, horribly wrong.
Owen awakes slowly, as if the darkness is still trying to pull him back. His surroundings are so comfortable, but he feels a bit off. He tries his best to shake off the sweet, sleepy feelings the nest is giving him.
"Mmn… Louis…?"
His voice is a bit raspy, so he clears his throat as he looks around. The protective curtains had been drawn, and he manages to pull them open, peeking his head out and calling the other's name again. His beloved is nowhere to be found, but the room still feels warm, even though there's no crackling sounds coming from the fireplace. He decides to get up, gradually regaining more and more awareness, and puts on his usual attire, before descending the stairs that lead up to the bed. When he reaches the bottom he stops, suddenly hit by the cold, which confuses him.
In reality, the warmth he felt earlier was only because of the safety of the nest.
Looking around, he can see that the only thing remaining in the fireplace was ash. The room is bathed in the light of the sunset, which means he must have slept for at least a day. Odd.
He didn't know it had been nearly three.
An involuntary whine leaves his throat, his fledging instincts finally awakening.
Sire… where?… miss you… confusion… Louis?…
These feelings are sent through the bond before Owen can even tell he is doing it, and they open up a floodgate in return that he wasn't ready for. Suddenly he is letting out a scream, clutching at his head.
Fire pain STAY AWAY don't make a sound control protect protect protect-
The stream of thoughts gets shut off as abruptly as it started, leaving him even more confused. The connection he just felt seemed so fragile.
Part of him feels inclined to obey and stay put, but another realizes that something is wrong with his sire, that he must be in danger, and that is the part that wins, guiding him out of the house and towards town. The manor is just on the outskirts of town, the landmark that separates dense forest from newly planted saplings on the path to the old castle. He stumbles down the road, feeling like he's walking on newborn legs, but fueled by the need to get to Louis.
The sun is beginning to set by now. From afar, he can see a column of smoke rising from the town square. It only increases his desperation.
Once he enters the walls, his enhanced vision and awareness lead him towards his destination through the quickest route, until he reaches it. All of the townsfolk were gathered and cheering, surrounding a massive fire. A pyre. There are no screams or pleads, but he just knows. That's where his beloved is. They're burning him at the stake. He stands there, motionless, in disbelief.
When he finally gets noticed by others, he can barely register what they're saying. It seems like they're happy, though. Like they did him a favor. Like they have saved him from some terrible fate, which couldn't be further from the truth. They hold him back when he tries to step closer, standing in his way, but they still wouldn't dare touch him.
His rage grows at every word, until finally, he snaps.
All he can see is red.
There is a sharp cry, inhuman and piercing, and then a chorus of dreadful sounds begins. There's screaming and tearing and breaking and cracked stone and burning wood as chaos reigns. Houses and tavern and lantern posts alike are damaged by impact, not even the fountain is spared, water rushing out into the square. Buildings are beginning to burn because of dropped torches.
Owen's mind is a blur of teeth and blood as he tears and bites and feasts. At some point, he has grown claws, which makes it even easier to slash and brutalize anyone he comes across. Not even the women, children or elderly are spared. There are people running, and he gives chase, catching up to most.
There is also a weird, nagging feeling in the back of his head, something tiny tugging at him.
And then.
"Owen…"
If it wasn't for his superhuman hearing, he probably would've missed it. He stops in his tracks, letting a few villagers escape.
There is no way. Could he still be…?
His brain latches on to that whisper and it's all he can think about now, turning around to the one place he had been avoiding, even while lost in his blood-lust.
He didn't notice that the fire had begun to die out. He can see it now as he walks closer.
Pain… sorry… not your fault… scared… it's okay…
That fragile connection is open once again, and Owen is being comforted. He can't help but whine in return, rushing to the stake, desperately trying to bring Louis down and only succeeding in the state he is in because of his muscle memory working with lumber.
He pushes away the painful thought that the wood that had just been used to hurt his beloved was almost certainly felled by him.
After a few moments, he manages to get the other, cradling him against his chest as he kneels on the bloody floor a few paces away from the pyre. They're out in the open, but by now there's no danger. The town is deserted, filled only with the scent of blood and ash. He looks down at the disfigured man on his lap, only his clothes intact, due to what comes with a vampire's curse of 'stasis'.
Louis opens his eyes, and they're still as familiar and lovely as ever, despite being filled with pain and regret. He hasn't stopped sending emotions through their bond, relying on his sire instincts even though he is barely conscious.
Sorry… sorry… love… hurt… sorry… leave… safety… dying… goodbye… love…
Vampires are meant to be unable to die through most methods, but enough damage could definitely end them. He knows this well, knows that he is barely hanging on. Owen can tell too, but he can't accept it, shaking his head and making pitiful noises.
"Louis… Louis please… Please don't leave me, I-" The comforting never stops, but it only makes the fledgling more desperate. He finally got rid of his disease, finally found someone who accepted him, who wanted him. This isn't how it should end.
It's then that he notices that the other's pupils are slightly blown, having taken in the scent of blood around them, confused, trying to process what it means. It give Owen an idea, and he tears at his own wrist with his teeth, bringing it towards Louis's mangled lips, a parallel to when he had been fed his sire's blood. At first he tries to refuse, but the childe pleads with him and eventually gets him to latch on. The blood he got from the townsfolk is siphoned, enough that he feels his claws become fingers again, and it's enough for their bond to feel a little more stable. When the elder pulls back, he seems more aware, guilt and horror painting his face at having had to drink from him, and at the bloody memories he receives.
He still doesn't stop comforting through the bond in between his other emotions.
Owen feels relief that the situation is no longer so dire, but it doesn't last for long. A sudden headache hits, and he's seeing red once more. Some of the adrenaline was wearing off, and the memories of the townsfolk he had drained were finally catching up to him.
Laughter, fondness, love, companionship, hunger, sadness, joy, anger, frustration, pain… Thousands of emotions rushed through his mind, along with the moments they were associated with. Fights, hugs, family, work, disaster, community, and so on. Most of them were blurry and barely distinguishable from the next one that played.
There were, however, a few that stood out.
That poor lumberjack…
Don't go near him!
He's useful but that's it.
You shouldn't touch him.
The mayor is so kind.
He's a blessing to our town!
He really doesn't budge on certain things…
It would be so much better if he could be bought with money.
Oh he's taken pity on the poor boy…
That mayor is the only one that dares go near him.
He's going into his home everyday?
That feels a bit dangerous, won't he get sick?
If he gets sick, that would make things easier for us.
The boy hasn't been seen since the other night? That's odd…
The mayor must've done something to him, I knew he couldn't be trusted!
Just get some trinkets that look like occult objects, that should do the trick.
Torches and pitchforks and a cornered man that accepted his fate so easily. Too easily.
(He had someone he needed to protect desperately.)
The rage and sorrow he feels bring him closer to reality again, even as memories of the slaughter he caused play in the back of his mind now. Louis is still using all his current awareness to try to comfort him, with soothing feelings through their bond and small noises, but Owen is frozen in place, thoughts spiraling.
A roof falling nearby makes him hiss and flinch, clutching his beloved tighter. That finally snaps him out of his daze, realizing that they probably shouldn't stay here for long. He picks up the other, carefully, and starts walking out of the ruined town.
His instincts are telling him that the safest place would be their nest, so he heads in the direction of the manor. He sticks to the edges of the forest, letting the shadows hide their figures. Night has truly fallen by now, but it doesn't really bother him, as his newfound powers give him the ability to see in the dark.
That's also the reason he is able to spot them from far away.
The mayor's house should've been silent and dark, but there is light coming from the windows, panicked voices, and some older men standing guard outside. Most of the young, able-bodied folk had been caught in the massacre, and the very few that didn't fled the town, either to get help or just out of self-preservation. That meant that most of the villagers that remained were those that couldn't run away and instead had to hide or fight back however they could. It seems they decided the safest place to defend was the manor, and all of the survivors were gathered there.
There's a quiet whine at the sight, echoed by the other vampire, and Owen's rage comes back in full force.
How dare these filthy humans defile Louis's home, their nest, after what they had done?
It's easy to find a secluded enough spot by the nearby trees to safely set down the other. He really doesn't want to separate from his beloved again, but he needs to do something to appease his anger, can't stand the thought of leaving these people alive.
A weak hand grabs his wrist as he starts to stand up.
Stop… not worth… it's okay…
The wounded vampire desperately tries to dissuade him, but it's of no use. Owen's arm slips out of the hold as he stalks towards the house.
"Wait… Owen…" Louis hisses as he tries to move, his pleas falling on deaf ears. He has no choice but to close his eyes and wait.
The ones standing guard are easy targets for someone like him. These are hardened men, but they're old, riddled with aches and pains from years of doing their menial jobs. He recognizes each of them, remembering every time they had turned him away or given him dirty looks.
He really wouldn't regret this.
As expected, it's not hard at all to take them down. Doing so undetected, however, is significantly harder, especially in his current, erratic state. It doesn't really matter, though. Owen is much faster than them. He quickly dispatches the small group, their shouts causing panic in the ones inside, before heading for the door, where he stops. Everything in him is telling him not safe not safe nest dirty filthy-
He looks to the side, where a torch had fallen. It was still lit.
It would be much easier and cleaner. He could just find them a new place for a nest, far away from town and any potential future trouble. It might even be better that way.
Owen picks up the torch. His smile is cruel as he holds it close to the wooden walls, setting them ablaze from multiple angles. It gets even wider as the screams start, satisfying something twisted in his gut.
He watches the flames for a bit before turning his back. His revenge has been completed. Now all that's left is to get his beloved somewhere safe.
The stench of fresh blood and ash reaches Louis, making him open his eyes. Owen looks safe and sound, and seems calmer now, which brings him some relief. He resumes the previous stream through their bond as he gets picked up again, but it's more subdued now. Despite being barely conscious, he knows what the other has just done, what he did in the town.
It pains and saddens him deeply.
He understands the anger, especially considering their bond, the childe instincts going haywire because he thought his sire had been killed. He wasn't sure himself that he was going to survive that fire. He only did due to luck, and because his beloved had… fed enough that he was able to siphon from him. In his weakened state, he hadn't been able to fully process the memories he got from that, but it was enough to know.
He tries his best to not let his emotions leak through their connection. There will be time for them to deal with this later. Hopefully.
He can tell Louis isn't happy. How could he be? He's a peaceful man, selfless, forgiving so easily. Owen just hoped he could forgive him too, but, deep down, he didn't feel like he had done anything wrong. He had given those townsfolk all the pain and suffering they deserved. His beloved's life was worth so much more than those 2799 puny humans.
(There's a strange compulsion to count in the back of his mind, which is how he knows exactly how many he has slain. He didn't notice it until just now, at the manor, when the number went up again, sensitive ears picking up every single heartbeat inside.)
While he was deep in thought, Owen had walked quite far already, relying on his heightened senses to avoid any potential danger.
Suddenly, he stops.
A crumbling bridge. A dark and imposing castle, partially in ruins, on the other side.
But the thing that made him pause wasn't the location, or the reminder of childhood stories used to scare away people from here. Something is setting off his vampire instincts, to the point where he doesn't think he could approach at all. Something that jogs his memories, even though he had never felt it before, but maybe they're not his memories.
He now realizes there is probably a reason for the warnings. Whatever is in that castle feels like an overwhelming, ancient presence, bleeding out into the rest of the land. He hadn't noticed before, but now he could definitely tell it spreads to the surrounding area. It's just so much more concentrated and intimidating over here.
For a moment, he considers pushing through the fear it instills and seeking refuge there, but if there really is some ancient being or monster there, like what the tales spoke about, it probably isn't a good idea.
Owen takes a detour to the left instead, carefully making his way downhill, trying not to jostle his beloved too much, for fear that any movement would make his wounds hurt. He follows the river, and when he's far enough from the castle, the air no longer suffocating, he is able to cross into the dead woods through a thinner section, not needing to swim.
He's starting to feel exhausted and hungry, but he can't stop now. The need to find somewhere safe keeps him going.
Looking up, he can see a cliff. He hasn't been to this area much, put off by the atmosphere like most other humans, but he is generally aware of its geography, so he knows that it's one of the highest locations near Oakhurst. That should give him a good vantage point.
The climb is hard, but he perseveres.
Reaching the top, he also sees a tower, one of the relics from the past that hold those strange beacons, like the old church in town. It doesn't look very stable though, so, instead of going inside, he digs a small cave where they can hide. While it isn't as nice as plush blankets and pillows, it still soothes his instincts, a callback to ancient times when living conditions were much simpler. He lays Louis down, then kneels at his side.
They stay in silence for a while, except for the little noises the sire is still making.
Now that he has some time to think, Owen feels conflicted. He doesn't want to meet the other's now open eyes, afraid of his reaction, but his feelings can't help but leak through the bond.
Sorry don't hate me deserved it filthy humans sorry sorry don't leave-
His broody state is broken by a growl of hunger coming from the elder's stomach. His body had used up everything he got earlier to start the process of healing, which would likely take a very long time, and he wouldn't accept his childe's blood again, because it wasn't nearly as efficient anyways, despite being helpful in an urgent situation.
So, with a new mission in mind, Owen decides he's going to get them both some food. Hunting down some animals can't be that hard, right?
He's about to get up when his arm is once again grabbed, just as weakly as earlier. This time, he listens to the plea and stops.
"Don't… go…"
Stay… safe… sleep… heal… it's okay… come closer…
Louis guides him to lay down together with whatever strength he can gather, holding the shorter man close, half on top of him, head pillowed on his wounded chest. The other can't help but whine, falling into the fledgling instinct to cuddle and burrow against his sire's neck, doing so tentatively, still wary of touch and of the awkward atmosphere, the things still unsaid.
With shaky movements, a soft kiss is planted on Owen's fluffy curls. Then, they both go still.
Sleep… safe… my love… sleep…
Lulled by these feelings, the two fall into torpor together.