FIC: Blood of the Immortal 11 Posted 12/22/2008 6:40:43 AM Title: Blood of the ImmortalAuthor: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)Rating: NC-17 overall.Cast: Viggo/Orli Sean/Karl Ian, Elijah, Hugo, Keira Knightly.Summary: AU. Since the death of Christ a supernatural war has been raging. Two armies, the Vampires and the Angels, both after the same thing Blood.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I have taken names and characterisations from real people that I do not own, but the concept and the plot are all mine.Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83ukwww.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk Feedback: Is my secret addiction. Chapter 11 Remembering the past is a frightening concept, as you should well know. All the mistakes you had made, things you had tried and succeeded to forget, all the pain and betrayal comes crashing back like a tidal wave. Give him time Viggo, time to deal with all the feelings such a deluge of memories bring. Ian took a seat in the library opposite Viggo, watching in sympathy as the younger Vampire kept his eyes lowered to the ground before him. Do you know, Ian said, leaning back in his chair with a reminiscent smile on his ageless lips. I can still recall the smell of the wet clay and the faint chalky taste it gave the air as it baked in the kiln. Viggo reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet that of his sires. He frowned to show Ian he had no idea what he was talking about. I can remember it distinctly and I can remember the damp and mouldy smell inside the temples, and yet I cannot recall the taste of the fresh fish that was caught and brought to me or the sound and names of the instruments that were played. Viggo continued to look at him, waiting patiently for an answer to his unasked question. Sensing it, Ian smiled at Viggo warmly. I remember being human, so very long a go. The year was 512 AD.Viggo gasped soundlessly. I knew you were among the oldest to still walk this earth, but I had no idea you had lived so long. Again Ian smiled his patient smile and went back to a place he had long since left. He could still see the fine jewellery on his fingers, polished daily by one of his many slaves. He could still feel the sun on his face, it was perhaps what he had missed the most over his long years spent in darkness. Viggo sent him a look, a silent invitation to please continue. The year was 512 AD, Ian repeated. A river valley along the dry coastal plain of northern Peru. I was amongst the most honoured of my village, a priest, the highest of priests to be precise. I had many lesser priests who worked under me, all of them over fed and under worked. We would sometimes dine on four course feasts while beggars sat outside eating their handfuls of rice. There was no royalty amongst the Moche, though the priests and warriors were treated as Gods. It was before the new religion, now known as Christianity, or perhaps it was just that word of it had not yet spread to Peru. We had our own set of Gods, terrible and great as they were. Our crops survived, but only barely. Rainfall was not a regular occurrence and when it did it lasted no longer then a few days. My job as priest was to honour our Gods on behalf of our people. Ian suddenly cut off and began chuckling softly. What? Viggo simply asked, deeply interested in Ians story. Thankful for a distraction, any distraction from the pain of Orlandos leaving and the hunger of missing his blood. It seems I was destined for the blood, for it has always been a part of me, bloodshed. The warriors of which I spoke were not just fighters and defenders, they were sacrifices. They would train their entire lives and battle amongst each other to be awarded the great honour of dying to please the Gods. How terrible it all seems now but how right it was to me then. I pity those little boys in Iraq who are brought up to believe that what their elders do is good and right, that one day they will grow into strong men who will please their God by strapping a bomb to their chest and killing themselves and others with it, a direct path to God. I pity them for I too know that delusion. They have not succumb to madness to carry out such acts, they truly believe they are doing what is right. It is for their ignorance I pity them. Ian looked over at Viggo and saw that his thoughts were still half on Orlando. My own brave warrior, so lost, he thought. Oh what an honour it was to die at the hands of the priest to feed the love of the gods. I would slash their throats with a sharpened blade that had been heated in the fire. The scent of burnt flesh is not something one ever forgets, I hadnt smelt it again until that dreadful foot and mouth disease that over took the live stock of our glorious countryside a few years back. They burnt the carcases to kill the retched disease and it would seem that whether human or cow, all flesh smells the same when it is burnt. The blades were kept sharp and I would slice right through to the bone. I knew nothing of jugular veins or veins at all for that matter, but I did know that the throat gave more blood then other parts of the body. The blood was caught in a brass cup, engraved with pictures that would frighten children of modern day. I would drink the blood and call up our prayer to the rain Gods. The rain would always fall a day or so later and the families of the sacrifice would bring trinkets and lay them outside my temple in thanks of giving their sons such great honour, such pride. Viggo saw it all in his head, the rain falling heavily, the warriors fighting each other, the blade in the fire, the blood dripping from Ians chin. He felt nauseous and deeply disturbed. How did you become a Vampire? It was a question that he had never asked Ian, as Ian had always told him that the past was something best left in the past if you had any hope of a future. I can tell you the facts of my birth into darkness Viggo, under that starless sky in the dry sandy wastelands, but I suspect you would like to hear the whole story, the story of how I came to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Viggo didnt reply, he didnt think he was expected to. He sat quietly and waited for his next distraction. Oh why couldnt he stop thinking about Orlando? And why did his hunger have to be so passionate? Priests lived as chaste men. We were to have no lovers our entire lives. It wasnt so bad, we had good food, fine things, the respect of our community. But a man can only resist temptation for so long. As I have said, I had many slaves. I was getting old, I was already into my fifties, as Im sure you can tell by my face. Though the immortal blood has smoothed away many lines, the age is still there. A slave girl named Aurelia, she had long dark hair and matching eyes.Like Orlando, Viggo thought weakly. She was only fifteen years, though back then many fifteen year old girls were already mated and mothers. How wrong it would be now for a man of fifty to fall in love with a girl of fifteen, still very much a child. It was not considered wrong in those times, that is if I had not been a priest. She was brave and strong and yet she obeyed and was respectful. I never mistreated the slaves given me and I thanked them when they completed a task I set them. Aurelia often spoke out of turn, asked me questions she knew she shouldnt, yet I answered everyone of them. I was a kind master, she told me, and an honourable man. As I said, I fell in love, helplessly so. For the first time in my miserable fifty years I smiled each morning I woke and I sung songs as I walked through the valley. Of course I knew I could never touch her for I would lose my ability to talk with the Gods. But as I have also said, a man can only resist temptation for so long. One evening as I was bathing, Aurelia came and sat beside me and talked to me about a dog she had seen in the marketplace, she was so happy as she talked of this dog, whom I could see no exceptionality in. But it made me happy that she was happy and I kissed her. It was a childs kiss really, no great passion, just lips upon lips, but it was wonderful and I savoured it. Over time she and I grew closer and it was clear that my love was returned. One night I made lover to her and I cried the entire time. I knew the Gods would curse me and that they would no longer heed my prayers but I needed her, I needed to be with her, to feel her young flesh against mine. She held me afterwards as I wept and told me how sorry she was for making me do this. She blamed herself as though I had no say in the matter, as though she were an wicked temptress, which could be no further from the truth. Viggo felt his heart ache for Ian and for himself and for Aurelia and for Orlando. With great love comes great pain, what a true statement, how terrible. We continued to be together physically, and I came to love her so deeply, there would only ever be one other I would love more. Ians face became grave as he thought of his beloved Gabriel. Then something happened which frightened us both more then anything else could have. I sacrificed a warrior, I drank his blood and I called up my prayer, Ian looked up at Viggo, his face displaying the amazement he had felt at the time. And it rained. It rained hard for three days. But how could that be? I was no longer pure. Everything I had ever been told about my people and our way of life was suddenly under questioning. Could it be that it would rain no matter what we did and could it be that there perhaps were no Gods. How could I accept that after fifty years? The fire crackled and drew Viggos attention from Ian. Belief is what separates us from the animals, he murmured softly. The ability to have faith in something we cant see or touch. Yes, Ian agreed. Isnt it a wonder that animals have never gone to war on an arrogant crusade or looked down on another for being different. The other priests found out about the nature of my relationship with Aurelia and we were brought before the elders. Oh, Ian suddenly stopped and smiled bitterly to himself. But I am forgetting a major part of my story, Aurelia was by now carrying my child. I could not allow disgrace to come upon her so I had arranged for her to leave by boat to the land of Britain. I had been forced to sell my many rings and lavish silks to pay for her passage to safety. I knew I would never see her or the child again but I knew it was right. She never made it to Britain, where the Pagan way of life was much more relaxed. They held me down and before my very eyes cut the child from her belly. I saw the tiny child, unformed and unable to breath on its own. It died within minutes. Aurelia took a little longer to bleed to death. She cried for me to hold her as she went to the Gods but they wouldnt let me, they held me down as I cried and screamed at them to let me go to her. Ian hadnt noticed the reddened tear that slid down his pale check, but Viggo had. What did they do to you? Viggo asked, his heart breaking for his sire and friend.They took me into the dusty wastelands, where I had no hope of returning to my village, and left me there to die. I lay under the blazing sun, which scorched my skin, and called out to the Gods, to my Gods, who I no longer knew if even existed. For three days I cried out to them to make it rain, to quench my first. Of course nothing happened. Then one night, I cannot recall how long I had laid there, I only know that my hearing had gone and my eyesight was failing as it does after only a few days without water. One night a creature lay over me, sniffing me, licking me. I felt this disgusting fluid in mouth and the rancid breath as this creature covered my mouth with its own. The creature had large fang teeth and yellowed eyes. Viggo sat forward in his chair, a vision of the memory of the monstrous face drawn by the Venetian artist Romoselli in the battered Latin book. The Vampire in its purist form.Yes, Ian nodded. To this day I know not why it saved me or made me a blood drinker but once it had fed me enough of its blood to restore my sight and hearing it drank from my throat. I thought it meant to kill me and I welcomed it. I whispered words to my beloved Aurelia and our child, telling them that I was coming to them. But then suddenly I felt the liquid in my mouth again and this time it wasnt vile and putrid but warm and thick. I drank greedily until the beast pulled itself away and ran off on all fours. I never saw it again. I had no knowledge of what a Vampire was, I knew not what he had done to me only that I was somehow changed. I was stronger, my eyesight was keener, my hearing impeccable. The mortal hunger I felt had gone and been replaced my a very different kind of hunger. Viggo knew this hunger all too well. He longed to sink his teeth into Orlandos soft neck, which was as smooth as a column of polished white marble and drink deep. Shuddering at the fantasy he again lowered his eyes and waited for Ian to continue. As the sun came up an instinct kicked in, an instinct to bury myself in the ground. Much like the instinct a new born baby has to suck from its mothers nipple. Ian looked at Viggo closely, he was hungering deeply and his heart was breaking without his angel. I made my way back to my village for revenge on Aurelias life.Viggos eyes shot up. You killed the entire village?Oh no, Ian assured him. I did far worse then that. I slaughtered their priests, the very ones who had held me down as I watched Aurelia die, I killed them the day of the sacrifice. With no priests to perform the rituals the people became panicked. I sat and laughed as they starred up at the sky, silent and confused as the heavy rain drops fell on their dirty faces. I laughed at them and their stupidity. The rain will fall whether your sons are killed or not, I cried out to them. It is not the Gods who send forth the rain, it is the clouds in the sky you fools. I did something much worse then kill them all, I killed their faith, their beliefs.Viggo nodded and stood slowly, he knelt down beside Ians chair and rested his head on Ians thigh. No words were needed, Ian already knew why Viggos heart was so burdened. As his child wept softly, Ian stroked his hair and sang one of the songs he once knew in a far away life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sky was only just beginning to lighten, birds were beginning to sing in the gardens outside. Hugo sat at his desk in a room with wall to wall windows and looked out at the lush gardens below. Isnt it odd that the most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly. Hugo was beginning to worry, it had been two days since anyone had last seen Orlando and he felt sick to his stomach that something might have happened to him. Orlando was different from the others. Hugo had trained many a warrior, he had seen angel after angel live and die at his side. But what he felt for Orlando was somuch more then that of student and teacher or general and soldier. Orlando was a son to him, a gift. Hugos head turned sharply as he heard a soft breathing sound from the doorway. His face relaxed and he smiled warmly at his protg . He stood up and walked over to Orlando, ready to embrace him and then reprimand him on his absence.Hugo didnt get the change though, for the second he reached Orlando the younger angel pulled back his fist and punched him hand in the jaw. What did you do to me your bastard? TBC (0) Comments

FIC: Blood of the Immortal 11 Posted 12/22/2008 6:38:28 AM Title: Blood of the ImmortalAuthor: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)Rating: NC-17 overall.Cast: Viggo/Orli Sean/Karl Ian, Elijah, Hugo, Keira Knightly.Summary: AU. Since the death of Christ a supernatural war has been raging. Two armies, the Vampires and the Angels, both after the same thing Blood.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I have taken names and characterisations from real people that I do not own, but the concept and the plot are all mine.Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83ukwww.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk Feedback: Is my secret addiction. Chapter 11 Remembering the past is a frightening concept, as you should well know. All the mistakes you had made, things you had tried and succeeded to forget, all the pain and betrayal comes crashing back like a tidal wave. Give him time Viggo, time to deal with all the feelings such a deluge of memories bring. Ian took a seat in the library opposite Viggo, watching in sympathy as the younger Vampire kept his eyes lowered to the ground before him. Do you know, Ian said, leaning back in his chair with a reminiscent smile on his ageless lips. I can still recall the smell of the wet clay and the faint chalky taste it gave the air as it baked in the kiln. Viggo reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet that of his sires. He frowned to show Ian he had no idea what he was talking about. I can remember it distinctly and I can remember the damp and mouldy smell inside the temples, and yet I cannot recall the taste of the fresh fish that was caught and brought to me or the sound and names of the instruments that were played. Viggo continued to look at him, waiting patiently for an answer to his unasked question. Sensing it, Ian smiled at Viggo warmly. I remember being human, so very long a go. The year was 512 AD.Viggo gasped soundlessly. I knew you were among the oldest to still walk this earth, but I had no idea you had lived so long. Again Ian smiled his patient smile and went back to a place he had long since left. He could still see the fine jewellery on his fingers, polished daily by one of his many slaves. He could still feel the sun on his face, it was perhaps what he had missed the most over his long years spent in darkness. Viggo sent him a look, a silent invitation to please continue. The year was 512 AD, Ian repeated. A river valley along the dry coastal plain of northern Peru. I was amongst the most honoured of my village, a priest, the highest of priests to be precise. I had many lesser priests who worked under me, all of them over fed and under worked. We would sometimes dine on four course feasts while beggars sat outside eating their handfuls of rice. There was no royalty amongst the Moche, though the priests and warriors were treated as Gods. It was before the new religion, now known as Christianity, or perhaps it was just that word of it had not yet spread to Peru. We had our own set of Gods, terrible and great as they were. Our crops survived, but only barely. Rainfall was not a regular occurrence and when it did it lasted no longer then a few days. My job as priest was to honour our Gods on behalf of our people. Ian suddenly cut off and began chuckling softly. What? Viggo simply asked, deeply interested in Ians story. Thankful for a distraction, any distraction from the pain of Orlandos leaving and the hunger of missing his blood. It seems I was destined for the blood, for it has always been a part of me, bloodshed. The warriors of which I spoke were not just fighters and defenders, they were sacrifices. They would train their entire lives and battle amongst each other to be awarded the great honour of dying to please the Gods. How terrible it all seems now but how right it was to me then. I pity those little boys in Iraq who are brought up to believe that what their elders do is good and right, that one day they will grow into strong men who will please their God by strapping a bomb to their chest and killing themselves and others with it, a direct path to God. I pity them for I too know that delusion. They have not succumb to madness to carry out such acts, they truly believe they are doing what is right. It is for their ignorance I pity them. Ian looked over at Viggo and saw that his thoughts were still half on Orlando. My own brave warrior, so lost, he thought. Oh what an honour it was to die at the hands of the priest to feed the love of the gods. I would slash their throats with a sharpened blade that had been heated in the fire. The scent of burnt flesh is not something one ever forgets, I hadnt smelt it again until that dreadful foot and mouth disease that over took the live stock of our glorious countryside a few years back. They burnt the carcases to kill the retched disease and it would seem that whether human or cow, all flesh smells the same when it is burnt. The blades were kept sharp and I would slice right through to the bone. I knew nothing of jugular veins or veins at all for that matter, but I did know that the throat gave more blood then other parts of the body. The blood was caught in a brass cup, engraved with pictures that would frighten children of modern day. I would drink the blood and call up our prayer to the rain Gods. The rain would always fall a day or so later and the families of the sacrifice would bring trinkets and lay them outside my temple in thanks of giving their sons such great honour, such pride. Viggo saw it all in his head, the rain falling heavily, the warriors fighting each other, the blade in the fire, the blood dripping from Ians chin. He felt nauseous and deeply disturbed. How did you become a Vampire? It was a question that he had never asked Ian, as Ian had always told him that the past was something best left in the past if you had any hope of a future. I can tell you the facts of my birth into darkness Viggo, under that starless sky in the dry sandy wastelands, but I suspect you would like to hear the whole story, the story of how I came to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Viggo didnt reply, he didnt think he was expected to. He sat quietly and waited for his next distraction. Oh why couldnt he stop thinking about Orlando? And why did his hunger have to be so passionate? Priests lived as chaste men. We were to have no lovers our entire lives. It wasnt so bad, we had good food, fine things, the respect of our community. But a man can only resist temptation for so long. As I have said, I had many slaves. I was getting old, I was already into my fifties, as Im sure you can tell by my face. Though the immortal blood has smoothed away many lines, the age is still there. A slave girl named Aurelia, she had long dark hair and matching eyes.Like Orlando, Viggo thought weakly. She was only fifteen years, though back then many fifteen year old girls were already mated and mothers. How wrong it would be now for a man of fifty to fall in love with a girl of fifteen, still very much a child. It was not considered wrong in those times, that is if I had not been a priest. She was brave and strong and yet she obeyed and was respectful. I never mistreated the slaves given me and I thanked them when they completed a task I set them. Aurelia often spoke out of turn, asked me questions she knew she shouldnt, yet I answered everyone of them. I was a kind master, she told me, and an honourable man. As I said, I fell in love, helplessly so. For the first time in my miserable fifty years I smiled each morning I woke and I sung songs as I walked through the valley. Of course I knew I could never touch her for I would lose my ability to talk with the Gods. But as I have also said, a man can only resist temptation for so long. One evening as I was bathing, Aurelia came and sat beside me and talked to me about a dog she had seen in the marketplace, she was so happy as she talked of this dog, whom I could see no exceptionality in. But it made me happy that she was happy and I kissed her. It was a childs kiss really, no great passion, just lips upon lips, but it was wonderful and I savoured it. Over time she and I grew closer and it was clear that my love was returned. One night I made lover to her and I cried the entire time. I knew the Gods would curse me and that they would no longer heed my prayers but I needed her, I needed to be with her, to feel her young flesh against mine. She held me afterwards as I wept and told me how sorry she was for making me do this. She blamed herself as though I had no say in the matter, as though she were an wicked temptress, which could be no further from the truth. Viggo felt his heart ache for Ian and for himself and for Aurelia and for Orlando. With great love comes great pain, what a true statement, how terrible. We continued to be together physically, and I came to love her so deeply, there would only ever be one other I would love more. Ians face became grave as he thought of his beloved Gabriel. Then something happened which frightened us both more then anything else could have. I sacrificed a warrior, I drank his blood and I called up my prayer, Ian looked up at Viggo, his face displaying the amazement he had felt at the time. And it rained. It rained hard for three days. But how could that be? I was no longer pure. Everything I had ever been told about my people and our way of life was suddenly under questioning. Could it be that it would rain no matter what we did and could it be that there perhaps were no Gods. How could I accept that after fifty years? The fire crackled and drew Viggos attention from Ian. Belief is what separates us from the animals, he murmured softly. The ability to have faith in something we cant see or touch. Yes, Ian agreed. Isnt it a wonder that animals have never gone to war on an arrogant crusade or looked down on another for being different. The other priests found out about the nature of my relationship with Aurelia and we were brought before the elders. Oh, Ian suddenly stopped and smiled bitterly to himself. But I am forgetting a major part of my story, Aurelia was by now carrying my child. I could not allow disgrace to come upon her so I had arranged for her to leave by boat to the land of Britain. I had been forced to sell my many rings and lavish silks to pay for her passage to safety. I knew I would never see her or the child again but I knew it was right. She never made it to Britain, where the Pagan way of life was much more relaxed. They held me down and before my very eyes cut the child from her belly. I saw the tiny child, unformed and unable to breath on its own. It died within minutes. Aurelia took a little longer to bleed to death. She cried for me to hold her as she went to the Gods but they wouldnt let me, they held me down as I cried and screamed at them to let me go to her. Ian hadnt noticed the reddened tear that slid down his pale check, but Viggo had. What did they do to you? Viggo asked, his heart breaking for his sire and friend.They took me into the dusty wastelands, where I had no hope of returning to my village, and left me there to die. I lay under the blazing sun, which scorched my skin, and called out to the Gods, to my Gods, who I no longer knew if even existed. For three days I cried out to them to make it rain, to quench my first. Of course nothing happened. Then one night, I cannot recall how long I had laid there, I only know that my hearing had gone and my eyesight was failing as it does after only a few days without water. One night a creature lay over me, sniffing me, licking me. I felt this disgusting fluid in mouth and the rancid breath as this creature covered my mouth with its own. The creature had large fang teeth and yellowed eyes. Viggo sat forward in his chair, a vision of the memory of the monstrous face drawn by the Venetian artist Romoselli in the battered Latin book. The Vampire in its purist form.Yes, Ian nodded. To this day I know not why it saved me or made me a blood drinker but once it had fed me enough of its blood to restore my sight and hearing it drank from my throat. I thought it meant to kill me and I welcomed it. I whispered words to my beloved Aurelia and our child, telling them that I was coming to them. But then suddenly I felt the liquid in my mouth again and this time it wasnt vile and putrid but warm and thick. I drank greedily until the beast pulled itself away and ran off on all fours. I never saw it again. I had no knowledge of what a Vampire was, I knew not what he had done to me only that I was somehow changed. I was stronger, my eyesight was keener, my hearing impeccable. The mortal hunger I felt had gone and been replaced my a very different kind of hunger. Viggo knew this hunger all too well. He longed to sink his teeth into Orlandos soft neck, which was as smooth as a column of polished white marble and drink deep. Shuddering at the fantasy he again lowered his eyes and waited for Ian to continue. As the sun came up an instinct kicked in, an instinct to bury myself in the ground. Much like the instinct a new born baby has to suck from its mothers nipple. Ian looked at Viggo closely, he was hungering deeply and his heart was breaking without his angel. I made my way back to my village for revenge on Aurelias life.Viggos eyes shot up. You killed the entire village?Oh no, Ian assured him. I did far worse then that. I slaughtered their priests, the very ones who had held me down as I watched Aurelia die, I killed them the day of the sacrifice. With no priests to perform the rituals the people became panicked. I sat and laughed as they starred up at the sky, silent and confused as the heavy rain drops fell on their dirty faces. I laughed at them and their stupidity. The rain will fall whether your sons are killed or not, I cried out to them. It is not the Gods who send forth the rain, it is the clouds in the sky you fools. I did something much worse then kill them all, I killed their faith, their beliefs.Viggo nodded and stood slowly, he knelt down beside Ians chair and rested his head on Ians thigh. No words were needed, Ian already knew why Viggos heart was so burdened. As his child wept softly, Ian stroked his hair and sang one of the songs he once knew in a far away life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sky was only just beginning to lighten, birds were beginning to sing in the gardens outside. Hugo sat at his desk in a room with wall to wall windows and looked out at the lush gardens below. Isnt it odd that the most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly. Hugo was beginning to worry, it had been two days since anyone had last seen Orlando and he felt sick to his stomach that something might have happened to him. Orlando was different from the others. Hugo had trained many a warrior, he had seen angel after angel live and die at his side. But what he felt for Orlando was somuch more then that of student and teacher or general and soldier. Orlando was a son to him, a gift. Hugos head turned sharply as he heard a soft breathing sound from the doorway. His face relaxed and he smiled warmly at his protg . He stood up and walked over to Orlando, ready to embrace him and then reprimand him on his absence.Hugo didnt get the change though, for the second he reached Orlando the younger angel pulled back his fist and punched him hand in the jaw. What did you do to me your bastard? TBC (0) Comments

FIC: Blood of the Immortal 11 Posted 12/22/2008 6:38:28 AM Title: Blood of the ImmortalAuthor: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)Rating: NC-17 overall.Cast: Viggo/Orli Sean/Karl Ian, Elijah, Hugo, Keira Knightly.Summary: AU. Since the death of Christ a supernatural war has been raging. Two armies, the Vampires and the Angels, both after the same thing Blood.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I have taken names and characterisations from real people that I do not own, but the concept and the plot are all mine.Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83ukwww.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk Feedback: Is my secret addiction. Chapter 11 Remembering the past is a frightening concept, as you should well know. All the mistakes you had made, things you had tried and succeeded to forget, all the pain and betrayal comes crashing back like a tidal wave. Give him time Viggo, time to deal with all the feelings such a deluge of memories bring. Ian took a seat in the library opposite Viggo, watching in sympathy as the younger Vampire kept his eyes lowered to the ground before him. Do you know, Ian said, leaning back in his chair with a reminiscent smile on his ageless lips. I can still recall the smell of the wet clay and the faint chalky taste it gave the air as it baked in the kiln. Viggo reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet that of his sires. He frowned to show Ian he had no idea what he was talking about. I can remember it distinctly and I can remember the damp and mouldy smell inside the temples, and yet I cannot recall the taste of the fresh fish that was caught and brought to me or the sound and names of the instruments that were played. Viggo continued to look at him, waiting patiently for an answer to his unasked question. Sensing it, Ian smiled at Viggo warmly. I remember being human, so very long a go. The year was 512 AD.Viggo gasped soundlessly. I knew you were among the oldest to still walk this earth, but I had no idea you had lived so long. Again Ian smiled his patient smile and went back to a place he had long since left. He could still see the fine jewellery on his fingers, polished daily by one of his many slaves. He could still feel the sun on his face, it was perhaps what he had missed the most over his long years spent in darkness. Viggo sent him a look, a silent invitation to please continue. The year was 512 AD, Ian repeated. A river valley along the dry coastal plain of northern Peru. I was amongst the most honoured of my village, a priest, the highest of priests to be precise. I had many lesser priests who worked under me, all of them over fed and under worked. We would sometimes dine on four course feasts while beggars sat outside eating their handfuls of rice. There was no royalty amongst the Moche, though the priests and warriors were treated as Gods. It was before the new religion, now known as Christianity, or perhaps it was just that word of it had not yet spread to Peru. We had our own set of Gods, terrible and great as they were. Our crops survived, but only barely. Rainfall was not a regular occurrence and when it did it lasted no longer then a few days. My job as priest was to honour our Gods on behalf of our people. Ian suddenly cut off and began chuckling softly. What? Viggo simply asked, deeply interested in Ians story. Thankful for a distraction, any distraction from the pain of Orlandos leaving and the hunger of missing his blood. It seems I was destined for the blood, for it has always been a part of me, bloodshed. The warriors of which I spoke were not just fighters and defenders, they were sacrifices. They would train their entire lives and battle amongst each other to be awarded the great honour of dying to please the Gods. How terrible it all seems now but how right it was to me then. I pity those little boys in Iraq who are brought up to believe that what their elders do is good and right, that one day they will grow into strong men who will please their God by strapping a bomb to their chest and killing themselves and others with it, a direct path to God. I pity them for I too know that delusion. They have not succumb to madness to carry out such acts, they truly believe they are doing what is right. It is for their ignorance I pity them. Ian looked over at Viggo and saw that his thoughts were still half on Orlando. My own brave warrior, so lost, he thought. Oh what an honour it was to die at the hands of the priest to feed the love of the gods. I would slash their throats with a sharpened blade that had been heated in the fire. The scent of burnt flesh is not something one ever forgets, I hadnt smelt it again until that dreadful foot and mouth disease that over took the live stock of our glorious countryside a few years back. They burnt the carcases to kill the retched disease and it would seem that whether human or cow, all flesh smells the same when it is burnt. The blades were kept sharp and I would slice right through to the bone. I knew nothing of jugular veins or veins at all for that matter, but I did know that the throat gave more blood then other parts of the body. The blood was caught in a brass cup, engraved with pictures that would frighten children of modern day. I would drink the blood and call up our prayer to the rain Gods. The rain would always fall a day or so later and the families of the sacrifice would bring trinkets and lay them outside my temple in thanks of giving their sons such great honour, such pride. Viggo saw it all in his head, the rain falling heavily, the warriors fighting each other, the blade in the fire, the blood dripping from Ians chin. He felt nauseous and deeply disturbed. How did you become a Vampire? It was a question that he had never asked Ian, as Ian had always told him that the past was something best left in the past if you had any hope of a future. I can tell you the facts of my birth into darkness Viggo, under that starless sky in the dry sandy wastelands, but I suspect you would like to hear the whole story, the story of how I came to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Viggo didnt reply, he didnt think he was expected to. He sat quietly and waited for his next distraction. Oh why couldnt he stop thinking about Orlando? And why did his hunger have to be so passionate? Priests lived as chaste men. We were to have no lovers our entire lives. It wasnt so bad, we had good food, fine things, the respect of our community. But a man can only resist temptation for so long. As I have said, I had many slaves. I was getting old, I was already into my fifties, as Im sure you can tell by my face. Though the immortal blood has smoothed away many lines, the age is still there. A slave girl named Aurelia, she had long dark hair and matching eyes.Like Orlando, Viggo thought weakly. She was only fifteen years, though back then many fifteen year old girls were already mated and mothers. How wrong it would be now for a man of fifty to fall in love with a girl of fifteen, still very much a child. It was not considered wrong in those times, that is if I had not been a priest. She was brave and strong and yet she obeyed and was respectful. I never mistreated the slaves given me and I thanked them when they completed a task I set them. Aurelia often spoke out of turn, asked me questions she knew she shouldnt, yet I answered everyone of them. I was a kind master, she told me, and an honourable man. As I said, I fell in love, helplessly so. For the first time in my miserable fifty years I smiled each morning I woke and I sung songs as I walked through the valley. Of course I knew I could never touch her for I would lose my ability to talk with the Gods. But as I have also said, a man can only resist temptation for so long. One evening as I was bathing, Aurelia came and sat beside me and talked to me about a dog she had seen in the marketplace, she was so happy as she talked of this dog, whom I could see no exceptionality in. But it made me happy that she was happy and I kissed her. It was a childs kiss really, no great passion, just lips upon lips, but it was wonderful and I savoured it. Over time she and I grew closer and it was clear that my love was returned. One night I made lover to her and I cried the entire time. I knew the Gods would curse me and that they would no longer heed my prayers but I needed her, I needed to be with her, to feel her young flesh against mine. She held me afterwards as I wept and told me how sorry she was for making me do this. She blamed herself as though I had no say in the matter, as though she were an wicked temptress, which could be no further from the truth. Viggo felt his heart ache for Ian and for himself and for Aurelia and for Orlando. With great love comes great pain, what a true statement, how terrible. We continued to be together physically, and I came to love her so deeply, there would only ever be one other I would love more. Ians face became grave as he thought of his beloved Gabriel. Then something happened which frightened us both more then anything else could have. I sacrificed a warrior, I drank his blood and I called up my prayer, Ian looked up at Viggo, his face displaying the amazement he had felt at the time. And it rained. It rained hard for three days. But how could that be? I was no longer pure. Everything I had ever been told about my people and our way of life was suddenly under questioning. Could it be that it would rain no matter what we did and could it be that there perhaps were no Gods. How could I accept that after fifty years? The fire crackled and drew Viggos attention from Ian. Belief is what separates us from the animals, he murmured softly. The ability to have faith in something we cant see or touch. Yes, Ian agreed. Isnt it a wonder that animals have never gone to war on an arrogant crusade or looked down on another for being different. The other priests found out about the nature of my relationship with Aurelia and we were brought before the elders. Oh, Ian suddenly stopped and smiled bitterly to himself. But I am forgetting a major part of my story, Aurelia was by now carrying my child. I could not allow disgrace to come upon her so I had arranged for her to leave by boat to the land of Britain. I had been forced to sell my many rings and lavish silks to pay for her passage to safety. I knew I would never see her or the child again but I knew it was right. She never made it to Britain, where the Pagan way of life was much more relaxed. They held me down and before my very eyes cut the child from her belly. I saw the tiny child, unformed and unable to breath on its own. It died within minutes. Aurelia took a little longer to bleed to death. She cried for me to hold her as she went to the Gods but they wouldnt let me, they held me down as I cried and screamed at them to let me go to her. Ian hadnt noticed the reddened tear that slid down his pale check, but Viggo had. What did they do to you? Viggo asked, his heart breaking for his sire and friend.They took me into the dusty wastelands, where I had no hope of returning to my village, and left me there to die. I lay under the blazing sun, which scorched my skin, and called out to the Gods, to my Gods, who I no longer knew if even existed. For three days I cried out to them to make it rain, to quench my first. Of course nothing happened. Then one night, I cannot recall how long I had laid there, I only know that my hearing had gone and my eyesight was failing as it does after only a few days without water. One night a creature lay over me, sniffing me, licking me. I felt this disgusting fluid in mouth and the rancid breath as this creature covered my mouth with its own. The creature had large fang teeth and yellowed eyes. Viggo sat forward in his chair, a vision of the memory of the monstrous face drawn by the Venetian artist Romoselli in the battered Latin book. The Vampire in its purist form.Yes, Ian nodded. To this day I know not why it saved me or made me a blood drinker but once it had fed me enough of its blood to restore my sight and hearing it drank from my throat. I thought it meant to kill me and I welcomed it. I whispered words to my beloved Aurelia and our child, telling them that I was coming to them. But then suddenly I felt the liquid in my mouth again and this time it wasnt vile and putrid but warm and thick. I drank greedily until the beast pulled itself away and ran off on all fours. I never saw it again. I had no knowledge of what a Vampire was, I knew not what he had done to me only that I was somehow changed. I was stronger, my eyesight was keener, my hearing impeccable. The mortal hunger I felt had gone and been replaced my a very different kind of hunger. Viggo knew this hunger all too well. He longed to sink his teeth into Orlandos soft neck, which was as smooth as a column of polished white marble and drink deep. Shuddering at the fantasy he again lowered his eyes and waited for Ian to continue. As the sun came up an instinct kicked in, an instinct to bury myself in the ground. Much like the instinct a new born baby has to suck from its mothers nipple. Ian looked at Viggo closely, he was hungering deeply and his heart was breaking without his angel. I made my way back to my village for revenge on Aurelias life.Viggos eyes shot up. You killed the entire village?Oh no, Ian assured him. I did far worse then that. I slaughtered their priests, the very ones who had held me down as I watched Aurelia die, I killed them the day of the sacrifice. With no priests to perform the rituals the people became panicked. I sat and laughed as they starred up at the sky, silent and confused as the heavy rain drops fell on their dirty faces. I laughed at them and their stupidity. The rain will fall whether your sons are killed or not, I cried out to them. It is not the Gods who send forth the rain, it is the clouds in the sky you fools. I did something much worse then kill them all, I killed their faith, their beliefs.Viggo nodded and stood slowly, he knelt down beside Ians chair and rested his head on Ians thigh. No words were needed, Ian already knew why Viggos heart was so burdened. As his child wept softly, Ian stroked his hair and sang one of the songs he once knew in a far away life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sky was only just beginning to lighten, birds were beginning to sing in the gardens outside. Hugo sat at his desk in a room with wall to wall windows and looked out at the lush gardens below. Isnt it odd that the most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly. Hugo was beginning to worry, it had been two days since anyone had last seen Orlando and he felt sick to his stomach that something might have happened to him. Orlando was different from the others. Hugo had trained many a warrior, he had seen angel after angel live and die at his side. But what he felt for Orlando was somuch more then that of student and teacher or general and soldier. Orlando was a son to him, a gift. Hugos head turned sharply as he heard a soft breathing sound from the doorway. His face relaxed and he smiled warmly at his protg . He stood up and walked over to Orlando, ready to embrace him and then reprimand him on his absence.Hugo didnt get the change though, for the second he reached Orlando the younger angel pulled back his fist and punched him hand in the jaw. What did you do to me your bastard? TBC (0) Comments

FIC: Blood of the Immortal 11 Posted 12/22/2008 6:36:54 AM Title: Blood of the ImmortalAuthor: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)Rating: NC-17 overall.Cast: Viggo/Orli Sean/Karl Ian, Elijah, Hugo, Keira Knightly.Summary: AU. Since the death of Christ a supernatural war has been raging. Two armies, the Vampires and the Angels, both after the same thing Blood.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I have taken names and characterisations from real people that I do not own, but the concept and the plot are all mine.Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83ukwww.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk Feedback: Is my secret addiction. Chapter 11 Remembering the past is a frightening concept, as you should well know. All the mistakes you had made, things you had tried and succeeded to forget, all the pain and betrayal comes crashing back like a tidal wave. Give him time Viggo, time to deal with all the feelings such a deluge of memories bring. Ian took a seat in the library opposite Viggo, watching in sympathy as the younger Vampire kept his eyes lowered to the ground before him. Do you know, Ian said, leaning back in his chair with a reminiscent smile on his ageless lips. I can still recall the smell of the wet clay and the faint chalky taste it gave the air as it baked in the kiln. Viggo reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet that of his sires. He frowned to show Ian he had no idea what he was talking about. I can remember it distinctly and I can remember the damp and mouldy smell inside the temples, and yet I cannot recall the taste of the fresh fish that was caught and brought to me or the sound and names of the instruments that were played. Viggo continued to look at him, waiting patiently for an answer to his unasked question. Sensing it, Ian smiled at Viggo warmly. I remember being human, so very long a go. The year was 512 AD.Viggo gasped soundlessly. I knew you were among the oldest to still walk this earth, but I had no idea you had lived so long. Again Ian smiled his patient smile and went back to a place he had long since left. He could still see the fine jewellery on his fingers, polished daily by one of his many slaves. He could still feel the sun on his face, it was perhaps what he had missed the most over his long years spent in darkness. Viggo sent him a look, a silent invitation to please continue. The year was 512 AD, Ian repeated. A river valley along the dry coastal plain of northern Peru. I was amongst the most honoured of my village, a priest, the highest of priests to be precise. I had many lesser priests who worked under me, all of them over fed and under worked. We would sometimes dine on four course feasts while beggars sat outside eating their handfuls of rice. There was no royalty amongst the Moche, though the priests and warriors were treated as Gods. It was before the new religion, now known as Christianity, or perhaps it was just that word of it had not yet spread to Peru. We had our own set of Gods, terrible and great as they were. Our crops survived, but only barely. Rainfall was not a regular occurrence and when it did it lasted no longer then a few days. My job as priest was to honour our Gods on behalf of our people. Ian suddenly cut off and began chuckling softly. What? Viggo simply asked, deeply interested in Ians story. Thankful for a distraction, any distraction from the pain of Orlandos leaving and the hunger of missing his blood. It seems I was destined for the blood, for it has always been a part of me, bloodshed. The warriors of which I spoke were not just fighters and defenders, they were sacrifices. They would train their entire lives and battle amongst each other to be awarded the great honour of dying to please the Gods. How terrible it all seems now but how right it was to me then. I pity those little boys in Iraq who are brought up to believe that what their elders do is good and right, that one day they will grow into strong men who will please their God by strapping a bomb to their chest and killing themselves and others with it, a direct path to God. I pity them for I too know that delusion. They have not succumb to madness to carry out such acts, they truly believe they are doing what is right. It is for their ignorance I pity them. Ian looked over at Viggo and saw that his thoughts were still half on Orlando. My own brave warrior, so lost, he thought. Oh what an honour it was to die at the hands of the priest to feed the love of the gods. I would slash their throats with a sharpened blade that had been heated in the fire. The scent of burnt flesh is not something one ever forgets, I hadnt smelt it again until that dreadful foot and mouth disease that over took the live stock of our glorious countryside a few years back. They burnt the carcases to kill the retched disease and it would seem that whether human or cow, all flesh smells the same when it is burnt. The blades were kept sharp and I would slice right through to the bone. I knew nothing of jugular veins or veins at all for that matter, but I did know that the throat gave more blood then other parts of the body. The blood was caught in a brass cup, engraved with pictures that would frighten children of modern day. I would drink the blood and call up our prayer to the rain Gods. The rain would always fall a day or so later and the families of the sacrifice would bring trinkets and lay them outside my temple in thanks of giving their sons such great honour, such pride. Viggo saw it all in his head, the rain falling heavily, the warriors fighting each other, the blade in the fire, the blood dripping from Ians chin. He felt nauseous and deeply disturbed. How did you become a Vampire? It was a question that he had never asked Ian, as Ian had always told him that the past was something best left in the past if you had any hope of a future. I can tell you the facts of my birth into darkness Viggo, under that starless sky in the dry sandy wastelands, but I suspect you would like to hear the whole story, the story of how I came to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Viggo didnt reply, he didnt think he was expected to. He sat quietly and waited for his next distraction. Oh why couldnt he stop thinking about Orlando? And why did his hunger have to be so passionate? Priests lived as chaste men. We were to have no lovers our entire lives. It wasnt so bad, we had good food, fine things, the respect of our community. But a man can only resist temptation for so long. As I have said, I had many slaves. I was getting old, I was already into my fifties, as Im sure you can tell by my face. Though the immortal blood has smoothed away many lines, the age is still there. A slave girl named Aurelia, she had long dark hair and matching eyes.Like Orlando, Viggo thought weakly. She was only fifteen years, though back then many fifteen year old girls were already mated and mothers. How wrong it would be now for a man of fifty to fall in love with a girl of fifteen, still very much a child. It was not considered wrong in those times, that is if I had not been a priest. She was brave and strong and yet she obeyed and was respectful. I never mistreated the slaves given me and I thanked them when they completed a task I set them. Aurelia often spoke out of turn, asked me questions she knew she shouldnt, yet I answered everyone of them. I was a kind master, she told me, and an honourable man. As I said, I fell in love, helplessly so. For the first time in my miserable fifty years I smiled each morning I woke and I sung songs as I walked through the valley. Of course I knew I could never touch her for I would lose my ability to talk with the Gods. But as I have also said, a man can only resist temptation for so long. One evening as I was bathing, Aurelia came and sat beside me and talked to me about a dog she had seen in the marketplace, she was so happy as she talked of this dog, whom I could see no exceptionality in. But it made me happy that she was happy and I kissed her. It was a childs kiss really, no great passion, just lips upon lips, but it was wonderful and I savoured it. Over time she and I grew closer and it was clear that my love was returned. One night I made lover to her and I cried the entire time. I knew the Gods would curse me and that they would no longer heed my prayers but I needed her, I needed to be with her, to feel her young flesh against mine. She held me afterwards as I wept and told me how sorry she was for making me do this. She blamed herself as though I had no say in the matter, as though she were an wicked temptress, which could be no further from the truth. Viggo felt his heart ache for Ian and for himself and for Aurelia and for Orlando. With great love comes great pain, what a true statement, how terrible. We continued to be together physically, and I came to love her so deeply, there would only ever be one other I would love more. Ians face became grave as he thought of his beloved Gabriel. Then something happened which frightened us both more then anything else could have. I sacrificed a warrior, I drank his blood and I called up my prayer, Ian looked up at Viggo, his face displaying the amazement he had felt at the time. And it rained. It rained hard for three days. But how could that be? I was no longer pure. Everything I had ever been told about my people and our way of life was suddenly under questioning. Could it be that it would rain no matter what we did and could it be that there perhaps were no Gods. How could I accept that after fifty years? The fire crackled and drew Viggos attention from Ian. Belief is what separates us from the animals, he murmured softly. The ability to have faith in something we cant see or touch. Yes, Ian agreed. Isnt it a wonder that animals have never gone to war on an arrogant crusade or looked down on another for being different. The other priests found out about the nature of my relationship with Aurelia and we were brought before the elders. Oh, Ian suddenly stopped and smiled bitterly to himself. But I am forgetting a major part of my story, Aurelia was by now carrying my child. I could not allow disgrace to come upon her so I had arranged for her to leave by boat to the land of Britain. I had been forced to sell my many rings and lavish silks to pay for her passage to safety. I knew I would never see her or the child again but I knew it was right. She never made it to Britain, where the Pagan way of life was much more relaxed. They held me down and before my very eyes cut the child from her belly. I saw the tiny child, unformed and unable to breath on its own. It died within minutes. Aurelia took a little longer to bleed to death. She cried for me to hold her as she went to the Gods but they wouldnt let me, they held me down as I cried and screamed at them to let me go to her. Ian hadnt noticed the reddened tear that slid down his pale check, but Viggo had. What did they do to you? Viggo asked, his heart breaking for his sire and friend.They took me into the dusty wastelands, where I had no hope of returning to my village, and left me there to die. I lay under the blazing sun, which scorched my skin, and called out to the Gods, to my Gods, who I no longer knew if even existed. For three days I cried out to them to make it rain, to quench my first. Of course nothing happened. Then one night, I cannot recall how long I had laid there, I only know that my hearing had gone and my eyesight was failing as it does after only a few days without water. One night a creature lay over me, sniffing me, licking me. I felt this disgusting fluid in mouth and the rancid breath as this creature covered my mouth with its own. The creature had large fang teeth and yellowed eyes. Viggo sat forward in his chair, a vision of the memory of the monstrous face drawn by the Venetian artist Romoselli in the battered Latin book. The Vampire in its purist form.Yes, Ian nodded. To this day I know not why it saved me or made me a blood drinker but once it had fed me enough of its blood to restore my sight and hearing it drank from my throat. I thought it meant to kill me and I welcomed it. I whispered words to my beloved Aurelia and our child, telling them that I was coming to them. But then suddenly I felt the liquid in my mouth again and this time it wasnt vile and putrid but warm and thick. I drank greedily until the beast pulled itself away and ran off on all fours. I never saw it again. I had no knowledge of what a Vampire was, I knew not what he had done to me only that I was somehow changed. I was stronger, my eyesight was keener, my hearing impeccable. The mortal hunger I felt had gone and been replaced my a very different kind of hunger. Viggo knew this hunger all too well. He longed to sink his teeth into Orlandos soft neck, which was as smooth as a column of polished white marble and drink deep. Shuddering at the fantasy he again lowered his eyes and waited for Ian to continue. As the sun came up an instinct kicked in, an instinct to bury myself in the ground. Much like the instinct a new born baby has to suck from its mothers nipple. Ian looked at Viggo closely, he was hungering deeply and his heart was breaking without his angel. I made my way back to my village for revenge on Aurelias life.Viggos eyes shot up. You killed the entire village?Oh no, Ian assured him. I did far worse then that. I slaughtered their priests, the very ones who had held me down as I watched Aurelia die, I killed them the day of the sacrifice. With no priests to perform the rituals the people became panicked. I sat and laughed as they starred up at the sky, silent and confused as the heavy rain drops fell on their dirty faces. I laughed at them and their stupidity. The rain will fall whether your sons are killed or not, I cried out to them. It is not the Gods who send forth the rain, it is the clouds in the sky you fools. I did something much worse then kill them all, I killed their faith, their beliefs.Viggo nodded and stood slowly, he knelt down beside Ians chair and rested his head on Ians thigh. No words were needed, Ian already knew why Viggos heart was so burdened. As his child wept softly, Ian stroked his hair and sang one of the songs he once knew in a far away life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sky was only just beginning to lighten, birds were beginning to sing in the gardens outside. Hugo sat at his desk in a room with wall to wall windows and looked out at the lush gardens below. Isnt it odd that the most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly. Hugo was beginning to worry, it had been two days since anyone had last seen Orlando and he felt sick to his stomach that something might have happened to him. Orlando was different from the others. Hugo had trained many a warrior, he had seen angel after angel live and die at his side. But what he felt for Orlando was somuch more then that of student and teacher or general and soldier. Orlando was a son to him, a gift. Hugos head turned sharply as he heard a soft breathing sound from the doorway. His face relaxed and he smiled warmly at his protg . He stood up and walked over to Orlando, ready to embrace him and then reprimand him on his absence.Hugo didnt get the change though, for the second he reached Orlando the younger angel pulled back his fist and punched him hand in the jaw. What did you do to me your bastard? TBC (0) Comments

FIC: Blood of the Immortal 11 Posted 12/22/2008 6:35:55 AM Title: Blood of the ImmortalAuthor: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)Rating: NC-17 overall.Cast: Viggo/Orli Sean/Karl Ian, Elijah, Hugo, Keira Knightly.Summary: AU. Since the death of Christ a supernatural war has been raging. Two armies, the Vampires and the Angels, both after the same thing Blood.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I have taken names and characterisations from real people that I do not own, but the concept and the plot are all mine.Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83ukwww.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk Feedback: Is my secret addiction. Chapter 11 Remembering the past is a frightening concept, as you should well know. All the mistakes you had made, things you had tried and succeeded to forget, all the pain and betrayal comes crashing back like a tidal wave. Give him time Viggo, time to deal with all the feelings such a deluge of memories bring. Ian took a seat in the library opposite Viggo, watching in sympathy as the younger Vampire kept his eyes lowered to the ground before him. Do you know, Ian said, leaning back in his chair with a reminiscent smile on his ageless lips. I can still recall the smell of the wet clay and the faint chalky taste it gave the air as it baked in the kiln. Viggo reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet that of his sires. He frowned to show Ian he had no idea what he was talking about. I can remember it distinctly and I can remember the damp and mouldy smell inside the temples, and yet I cannot recall the taste of the fresh fish that was caught and brought to me or the sound and names of the instruments that were played. Viggo continued to look at him, waiting patiently for an answer to his unasked question. Sensing it, Ian smiled at Viggo warmly. I remember being human, so very long a go. The year was 512 AD.Viggo gasped soundlessly. I knew you were among the oldest to still walk this earth, but I had no idea you had lived so long. Again Ian smiled his patient smile and went back to a place he had long since left. He could still see the fine jewellery on his fingers, polished daily by one of his many slaves. He could still feel the sun on his face, it was perhaps what he had missed the most over his long years spent in darkness. Viggo sent him a look, a silent invitation to please continue. The year was 512 AD, Ian repeated. A river valley along the dry coastal plain of northern Peru. I was amongst the most honoured of my village, a priest, the highest of priests to be precise. I had many lesser priests who worked under me, all of them over fed and under worked. We would sometimes dine on four course feasts while beggars sat outside eating their handfuls of rice. There was no royalty amongst the Moche, though the priests and warriors were treated as Gods. It was before the new religion, now known as Christianity, or perhaps it was just that word of it had not yet spread to Peru. We had our own set of Gods, terrible and great as they were. Our crops survived, but only barely. Rainfall was not a regular occurrence and when it did it lasted no longer then a few days. My job as priest was to honour our Gods on behalf of our people. Ian suddenly cut off and began chuckling softly. What? Viggo simply asked, deeply interested in Ians story. Thankful for a distraction, any distraction from the pain of Orlandos leaving and the hunger of missing his blood. It seems I was destined for the blood, for it has always been a part of me, bloodshed. The warriors of which I spoke were not just fighters and defenders, they were sacrifices. They would train their entire lives and battle amongst each other to be awarded the great honour of dying to please the Gods. How terrible it all seems now but how right it was to me then. I pity those little boys in Iraq who are brought up to believe that what their elders do is good and right, that one day they will grow into strong men who will please their God by strapping a bomb to their chest and killing themselves and others with it, a direct path to God. I pity them for I too know that delusion. They have not succumb to madness to carry out such acts, they truly believe they are doing what is right. It is for their ignorance I pity them. Ian looked over at Viggo and saw that his thoughts were still half on Orlando. My own brave warrior, so lost, he thought. Oh what an honour it was to die at the hands of the priest to feed the love of the gods. I would slash their throats with a sharpened blade that had been heated in the fire. The scent of burnt flesh is not something one ever forgets, I hadnt smelt it again until that dreadful foot and mouth disease that over took the live stock of our glorious countryside a few years back. They burnt the carcases to kill the retched disease and it would seem that whether human or cow, all flesh smells the same when it is burnt. The blades were kept sharp and I would slice right through to the bone. I knew nothing of jugular veins or veins at all for that matter, but I did know that the throat gave more blood then other parts of the body. The blood was caught in a brass cup, engraved with pictures that would frighten children of modern day. I would drink the blood and call up our prayer to the rain Gods. The rain would always fall a day or so later and the families of the sacrifice would bring trinkets and lay them outside my temple in thanks of giving their sons such great honour, such pride. Viggo saw it all in his head, the rain falling heavily, the warriors fighting each other, the blade in the fire, the blood dripping from Ians chin. He felt nauseous and deeply disturbed. How did you become a Vampire? It was a question that he had never asked Ian, as Ian had always told him that the past was something best left in the past if you had any hope of a future. I can tell you the facts of my birth into darkness Viggo, under that starless sky in the dry sandy wastelands, but I suspect you would like to hear the whole story, the story of how I came to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Viggo didnt reply, he didnt think he was expected to. He sat quietly and waited for his next distraction. Oh why couldnt he stop thinking about Orlando? And why did his hunger have to be so passionate? Priests lived as chaste men. We were to have no lovers our entire lives. It wasnt so bad, we had good food, fine things, the respect of our community. But a man can only resist temptation for so long. As I have said, I had many slaves. I was getting old, I was already into my fifties, as Im sure you can tell by my face. Though the immortal blood has smoothed away many lines, the age is still there. A slave girl named Aurelia, she had long dark hair and matching eyes.Like Orlando, Viggo thought weakly. She was only fifteen years, though back then many fifteen year old girls were already mated and mothers. How wrong it would be now for a man of fifty to fall in love with a girl of fifteen, still very much a child. It was not considered wrong in those times, that is if I had not been a priest. She was brave and strong and yet she obeyed and was respectful. I never mistreated the slaves given me and I thanked them when they completed a task I set them. Aurelia often spoke out of turn, asked me questions she knew she shouldnt, yet I answered everyone of them. I was a kind master, she told me, and an honourable man. As I said, I fell in love, helplessly so. For the first time in my miserable fifty years I smiled each morning I woke and I sung songs as I walked through the valley. Of course I knew I could never touch her for I would lose my ability to talk with the Gods. But as I have also said, a man can only resist temptation for so long. One evening as I was bathing, Aurelia came and sat beside me and talked to me about a dog she had seen in the marketplace, she was so happy as she talked of this dog, whom I could see no exceptionality in. But it made me happy that she was happy and I kissed her. It was a childs kiss really, no great passion, just lips upon lips, but it was wonderful and I savoured it. Over time she and I grew closer and it was clear that my love was returned. One night I made lover to her and I cried the entire time. I knew the Gods would curse me and that they would no longer heed my prayers but I needed her, I needed to be with her, to feel her young flesh against mine. She held me afterwards as I wept and told me how sorry she was for making me do this. She blamed herself as though I had no say in the matter, as though she were an wicked temptress, which could be no further from the truth. Viggo felt his heart ache for Ian and for himself and for Aurelia and for Orlando. With great love comes great pain, what a true statement, how terrible. We continued to be together physically, and I came to love her so deeply, there would only ever be one other I would love more. Ians face became grave as he thought of his beloved Gabriel. Then something happened which frightened us both more then anything else could have. I sacrificed a warrior, I drank his blood and I called up my prayer, Ian looked up at Viggo, his face displaying the amazement he had felt at the time. And it rained. It rained hard for three days. But how could that be? I was no longer pure. Everything I had ever been told about my people and our way of life was suddenly under questioning. Could it be that it would rain no matter what we did and could it be that there perhaps were no Gods. How could I accept that after fifty years? The fire crackled and drew Viggos attention from Ian. Belief is what separates us from the animals, he murmured softly. The ability to have faith in something we cant see or touch. Yes, Ian agreed. Isnt it a wonder that animals have never gone to war on an arrogant crusade or looked down on another for being different. The other priests found out about the nature of my relationship with Aurelia and we were brought before the elders. Oh, Ian suddenly stopped and smiled bitterly to himself. But I am forgetting a major part of my story, Aurelia was by now carrying my child. I could not allow disgrace to come upon her so I had arranged for her to leave by boat to the land of Britain. I had been forced to sell my many rings and lavish silks to pay for her passage to safety. I knew I would never see her or the child again but I knew it was right. She never made it to Britain, where the Pagan way of life was much more relaxed. They held me down and before my very eyes cut the child from her belly. I saw the tiny child, unformed and unable to breath on its own. It died within minutes. Aurelia took a little longer to bleed to death. She cried for me to hold her as she went to the Gods but they wouldnt let me, they held me down as I cried and screamed at them to let me go to her. Ian hadnt noticed the reddened tear that slid down his pale check, but Viggo had. What did they do to you? Viggo asked, his heart breaking for his sire and friend.They took me into the dusty wastelands, where I had no hope of returning to my village, and left me there to die. I lay under the blazing sun, which scorched my skin, and called out to the Gods, to my Gods, who I no longer knew if even existed. For three days I cried out to them to make it rain, to quench my first. Of course nothing happened. Then one night, I cannot recall how long I had laid there, I only know that my hearing had gone and my eyesight was failing as it does after only a few days without water. One night a creature lay over me, sniffing me, licking me. I felt this disgusting fluid in mouth and the rancid breath as this creature covered my mouth with its own. The creature had large fang teeth and yellowed eyes. Viggo sat forward in his chair, a vision of the memory of the monstrous face drawn by the Venetian artist Romoselli in the battered Latin book. The Vampire in its purist form.Yes, Ian nodded. To this day I know not why it saved me or made me a blood drinker but once it had fed me enough of its blood to restore my sight and hearing it drank from my throat. I thought it meant to kill me and I welcomed it. I whispered words to my beloved Aurelia and our child, telling them that I was coming to them. But then suddenly I felt the liquid in my mouth again and this time it wasnt vile and putrid but warm and thick. I drank greedily until the beast pulled itself away and ran off on all fours. I never saw it again. I had no knowledge of what a Vampire was, I knew not what he had done to me only that I was somehow changed. I was stronger, my eyesight was keener, my hearing impeccable. The mortal hunger I felt had gone and been replaced my a very different kind of hunger. Viggo knew this hunger all too well. He longed to sink his teeth into Orlandos soft neck, which was as smooth as a column of polished white marble and drink deep. Shuddering at the fantasy he again lowered his eyes and waited for Ian to continue. As the sun came up an instinct kicked in, an instinct to bury myself in the ground. Much like the instinct a new born baby has to suck from its mothers nipple. Ian looked at Viggo closely, he was hungering deeply and his heart was breaking without his angel. I made my way back to my village for revenge on Aurelias life.Viggos eyes shot up. You killed the entire village?Oh no, Ian assured him. I did far worse then that. I slaughtered their priests, the very ones who had held me down as I watched Aurelia die, I killed them the day of the sacrifice. With no priests to perform the rituals the people became panicked. I sat and laughed as they starred up at the sky, silent and confused as the heavy rain drops fell on their dirty faces. I laughed at them and their stupidity. The rain will fall whether your sons are killed or not, I cried out to them. It is not the Gods who send forth the rain, it is the clouds in the sky you fools. I did something much worse then kill them all, I killed their faith, their beliefs.Viggo nodded and stood slowly, he knelt down beside Ians chair and rested his head on Ians thigh. No words were needed, Ian already knew why Viggos heart was so burdened. As his child wept softly, Ian stroked his hair and sang one of the songs he once knew in a far away life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sky was only just beginning to lighten, birds were beginning to sing in the gardens outside. Hugo sat at his desk in a room with wall to wall windows and looked out at the lush gardens below. Isnt it odd that the most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly. Hugo was beginning to worry, it had been two days since anyone had last seen Orlando and he felt sick to his stomach that something might have happened to him. Orlando was different from the others. Hugo had trained many a warrior, he had seen angel after angel live and die at his side. But what he felt for Orlando was somuch more then that of student and teacher or general and soldier. Orlando was a son to him, a gift. Hugos head turned sharply as he heard a soft breathing sound from the doorway. His face relaxed and he smiled warmly at his protg . He stood up and walked over to Orlando, ready to embrace him and then reprimand him on his absence.Hugo didnt get the change though, for the second he reached Orlando the younger angel pulled back his fist and punched him hand in the jaw. What did you do to me your bastard? TBC (0) Comments

FIC: Blood of the Immortal 11 Posted 12/22/2008 6:35:03 AM Title: Blood of the ImmortalAuthor: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)Rating: NC-17 overall.Cast: Viggo/Orli Sean/Karl Ian, Elijah, Hugo, Keira Knightly.Summary: AU. Since the death of Christ a supernatural war has been raging. Two armies, the Vampires and the Angels, both after the same thing Blood.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I have taken names and characterisations from real people that I do not own, but the concept and the plot are all mine.Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83ukwww.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk Feedback: Is my secret addiction. Chapter 11 Remembering the past is a frightening concept, as you should well know. All the mistakes you had made, things you had tried and succeeded to forget, all the pain and betrayal comes crashing back like a tidal wave. Give him time Viggo, time to deal with all the feelings such a deluge of memories bring. Ian took a seat in the library opposite Viggo, watching in sympathy as the younger Vampire kept his eyes lowered to the ground before him. Do you know, Ian said, leaning back in his chair with a reminiscent smile on his ageless lips. I can still recall the smell of the wet clay and the faint chalky taste it gave the air as it baked in the kiln. Viggo reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet that of his sires. He frowned to show Ian he had no idea what he was talking about. I can remember it distinctly and I can remember the damp and mouldy smell inside the temples, and yet I cannot recall the taste of the fresh fish that was caught and brought to me or the sound and names of the instruments that were played. Viggo continued to look at him, waiting patiently for an answer to his unasked question. Sensing it, Ian smiled at Viggo warmly. I remember being human, so very long a go. The year was 512 AD.Viggo gasped soundlessly. I knew you were among the oldest to still walk this earth, but I had no idea you had lived so long. Again Ian smiled his patient smile and went back to a place he had long since left. He could still see the fine jewellery on his fingers, polished daily by one of his many slaves. He could still feel the sun on his face, it was perhaps what he had missed the most over his long years spent in darkness. Viggo sent him a look, a silent invitation to please continue. The year was 512 AD, Ian repeated. A river valley along the dry coastal plain of northern Peru. I was amongst the most honoured of my village, a priest, the highest of priests to be precise. I had many lesser priests who worked under me, all of them over fed and under worked. We would sometimes dine on four course feasts while beggars sat outside eating their handfuls of rice. There was no royalty amongst the Moche, though the priests and warriors were treated as Gods. It was before the new religion, now known as Christianity, or perhaps it was just that word of it had not yet spread to Peru. We had our own set of Gods, terrible and great as they were. Our crops survived, but only barely. Rainfall was not a regular occurrence and when it did it lasted no longer then a few days. My job as priest was to honour our Gods on behalf of our people. Ian suddenly cut off and began chuckling softly. What? Viggo simply asked, deeply interested in Ians story. Thankful for a distraction, any distraction from the pain of Orlandos leaving and the hunger of missing his blood. It seems I was destined for the blood, for it has always been a part of me, bloodshed. The warriors of which I spoke were not just fighters and defenders, they were sacrifices. They would train their entire lives and battle amongst each other to be awarded the great honour of dying to please the Gods. How terrible it all seems now but how right it was to me then. I pity those little boys in Iraq who are brought up to believe that what their elders do is good and right, that one day they will grow into strong men who will please their God by strapping a bomb to their chest and killing themselves and others with it, a direct path to God. I pity them for I too know that delusion. They have not succumb to madness to carry out such acts, they truly believe they are doing what is right. It is for their ignorance I pity them. Ian looked over at Viggo and saw that his thoughts were still half on Orlando. My own brave warrior, so lost, he thought. Oh what an honour it was to die at the hands of the priest to feed the love of the gods. I would slash their throats with a sharpened blade that had been heated in the fire. The scent of burnt flesh is not something one ever forgets, I hadnt smelt it again until that dreadful foot and mouth disease that over took the live stock of our glorious countryside a few years back. They burnt the carcases to kill the retched disease and it would seem that whether human or cow, all flesh smells the same when it is burnt. The blades were kept sharp and I would slice right through to the bone. I knew nothing of jugular veins or veins at all for that matter, but I did know that the throat gave more blood then other parts of the body. The blood was caught in a brass cup, engraved with pictures that would frighten children of modern day. I would drink the blood and call up our prayer to the rain Gods. The rain would always fall a day or so later and the families of the sacrifice would bring trinkets and lay them outside my temple in thanks of giving their sons such great honour, such pride. Viggo saw it all in his head, the rain falling heavily, the warriors fighting each other, the blade in the fire, the blood dripping from Ians chin. He felt nauseous and deeply disturbed. How did you become a Vampire? It was a question that he had never asked Ian, as Ian had always told him that the past was something best left in the past if you had any hope of a future. I can tell you the facts of my birth into darkness Viggo, under that starless sky in the dry sandy wastelands, but I suspect you would like to hear the whole story, the story of how I came to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Viggo didnt reply, he didnt think he was expected to. He sat quietly and waited for his next distraction. Oh why couldnt he stop thinking about Orlando? And why did his hunger have to be so passionate? Priests lived as chaste men. We were to have no lovers our entire lives. It wasnt so bad, we had good food, fine things, the respect of our community. But a man can only resist temptation for so long. As I have said, I had many slaves. I was getting old, I was already into my fifties, as Im sure you can tell by my face. Though the immortal blood has smoothed away many lines, the age is still there. A slave girl named Aurelia, she had long dark hair and matching eyes.Like Orlando, Viggo thought weakly. She was only fifteen years, though back then many fifteen year old girls were already mated and mothers. How wrong it would be now for a man of fifty to fall in love with a girl of fifteen, still very much a child. It was not considered wrong in those times, that is if I had not been a priest. She was brave and strong and yet she obeyed and was respectful. I never mistreated the slaves given me and I thanked them when they completed a task I set them. Aurelia often spoke out of turn, asked me questions she knew she shouldnt, yet I answered everyone of them. I was a kind master, she told me, and an honourable man. As I said, I fell in love, helplessly so. For the first time in my miserable fifty years I smiled each morning I woke and I sung songs as I walked through the valley. Of course I knew I could never touch her for I would lose my ability to talk with the Gods. But as I have also said, a man can only resist temptation for so long. One evening as I was bathing, Aurelia came and sat beside me and talked to me about a dog she had seen in the marketplace, she was so happy as she talked of this dog, whom I could see no exceptionality in. But it made me happy that she was happy and I kissed her. It was a childs kiss really, no great passion, just lips upon lips, but it was wonderful and I savoured it. Over time she and I grew closer and it was clear that my love was returned. One night I made lover to her and I cried the entire time. I knew the Gods would curse me and that they would no longer heed my prayers but I needed her, I needed to be with her, to feel her young flesh against mine. She held me afterwards as I wept and told me how sorry she was for making me do this. She blamed herself as though I had no say in the matter, as though she were an wicked temptress, which could be no further from the truth. Viggo felt his heart ache for Ian and for himself and for Aurelia and for Orlando. With great love comes great pain, what a true statement, how terrible. We continued to be together physically, and I came to love her so deeply, there would only ever be one other I would love more. Ians face became grave as he thought of his beloved Gabriel. Then something happened which frightened us both more then anything else could have. I sacrificed a warrior, I drank his blood and I called up my prayer, Ian looked up at Viggo, his face displaying the amazement he had felt at the time. And it rained. It rained hard for three days. But how could that be? I was no longer pure. Everything I had ever been told about my people and our way of life was suddenly under questioning. Could it be that it would rain no matter what we did and could it be that there perhaps were no Gods. How could I accept that after fifty years? The fire crackled and drew Viggos attention from Ian. Belief is what separates us from the animals, he murmured softly. The ability to have faith in something we cant see or touch. Yes, Ian agreed. Isnt it a wonder that animals have never gone to war on an arrogant crusade or looked down on another for being different. The other priests found out about the nature of my relationship with Aurelia and we were brought before the elders. Oh, Ian suddenly stopped and smiled bitterly to himself. But I am forgetting a major part of my story, Aurelia was by now carrying my child. I could not allow disgrace to come upon her so I had arranged for her to leave by boat to the land of Britain. I had been forced to sell my many rings and lavish silks to pay for her passage to safety. I knew I would never see her or the child again but I knew it was right. She never made it to Britain, where the Pagan way of life was much more relaxed. They held me down and before my very eyes cut the child from her belly. I saw the tiny child, unformed and unable to breath on its own. It died within minutes. Aurelia took a little longer to bleed to death. She cried for me to hold her as she went to the Gods but they wouldnt let me, they held me down as I cried and screamed at them to let me go to her. Ian hadnt noticed the reddened tear that slid down his pale check, but Viggo had. What did they do to you? Viggo asked, his heart breaking for his sire and friend.They took me into the dusty wastelands, where I had no hope of returning to my village, and left me there to die. I lay under the blazing sun, which scorched my skin, and called out to the Gods, to my Gods, who I no longer knew if even existed. For three days I cried out to them to make it rain, to quench my first. Of course nothing happened. Then one night, I cannot recall how long I had laid there, I only know that my hearing had gone and my eyesight was failing as it does after only a few days without water. One night a creature lay over me, sniffing me, licking me. I felt this disgusting fluid in mouth and the rancid breath as this creature covered my mouth with its own. The creature had large fang teeth and yellowed eyes. Viggo sat forward in his chair, a vision of the memory of the monstrous face drawn by the Venetian artist Romoselli in the battered Latin book. The Vampire in its purist form.Yes, Ian nodded. To this day I know not why it saved me or made me a blood drinker but once it had fed me enough of its blood to restore my sight and hearing it drank from my throat. I thought it meant to kill me and I welcomed it. I whispered words to my beloved Aurelia and our child, telling them that I was coming to them. But then suddenly I felt the liquid in my mouth again and this time it wasnt vile and putrid but warm and thick. I drank greedily until the beast pulled itself away and ran off on all fours. I never saw it again. I had no knowledge of what a Vampire was, I knew not what he had done to me only that I was somehow changed. I was stronger, my eyesight was keener, my hearing impeccable. The mortal hunger I felt had gone and been replaced my a very different kind of hunger. Viggo knew this hunger all too well. He longed to sink his teeth into Orlandos soft neck, which was as smooth as a column of polished white marble and drink deep. Shuddering at the fantasy he again lowered his eyes and waited for Ian to continue. As the sun came up an instinct kicked in, an instinct to bury myself in the ground. Much like the instinct a new born baby has to suck from its mothers nipple. Ian looked at Viggo closely, he was hungering deeply and his heart was breaking without his angel. I made my way back to my village for revenge on Aurelias life.Viggos eyes shot up. You killed the entire village?Oh no, Ian assured him. I did far worse then that. I slaughtered their priests, the very ones who had held me down as I watched Aurelia die, I killed them the day of the sacrifice. With no priests to perform the rituals the people became panicked. I sat and laughed as they starred up at the sky, silent and confused as the heavy rain drops fell on their dirty faces. I laughed at them and their stupidity. The rain will fall whether your sons are killed or not, I cried out to them. It is not the Gods who send forth the rain, it is the clouds in the sky you fools. I did something much worse then kill them all, I killed their faith, their beliefs.Viggo nodded and stood slowly, he knelt down beside Ians chair and rested his head on Ians thigh. No words were needed, Ian already knew why Viggos heart was so burdened. As his child wept softly, Ian stroked his hair and sang one of the songs he once knew in a far away life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sky was only just beginning to lighten, birds were beginning to sing in the gardens outside. Hugo sat at his desk in a room with wall to wall windows and looked out at the lush gardens below. Isnt it odd that the most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly. Hugo was beginning to worry, it had been two days since anyone had last seen Orlando and he felt sick to his stomach that something might have happened to him. Orlando was different from the others. Hugo had trained many a warrior, he had seen angel after angel live and die at his side. But what he felt for Orlando was somuch more then that of student and teacher or general and soldier. Orlando was a son to him, a gift. Hugos head turned sharply as he heard a soft breathing sound from the doorway. His face relaxed and he smiled warmly at his protg . He stood up and walked over to Orlando, ready to embrace him and then reprimand him on his absence.Hugo didnt get the change though, for the second he reached Orlando the younger angel pulled back his fist and punched him hand in the jaw. What did you do to me your bastard? TBC (0) Comments

FIC: Blood of the Immortal 11 Posted 12/22/2008 6:34:31 AM Title: Blood of the ImmortalAuthor: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)Rating: NC-17 overall.Cast: Viggo/Orli Sean/Karl Ian, Elijah, Hugo, Keira Knightly.Summary: AU. Since the death of Christ a supernatural war has been raging. Two armies, the Vampires and the Angels, both after the same thing Blood.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I have taken names and characterisations from real people that I do not own, but the concept and the plot are all mine.Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83ukwww.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk Feedback: Is my secret addiction. Chapter 11 Remembering the past is a frightening concept, as you should well know. All the mistakes you had made, things you had tried and succeeded to forget, all the pain and betrayal comes crashing back like a tidal wave. Give him time Viggo, time to deal with all the feelings such a deluge of memories bring. Ian took a seat in the library opposite Viggo, watching in sympathy as the younger Vampire kept his eyes lowered to the ground before him. Do you know, Ian said, leaning back in his chair with a reminiscent smile on his ageless lips. I can still recall the smell of the wet clay and the faint chalky taste it gave the air as it baked in the kiln. Viggo reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet that of his sires. He frowned to show Ian he had no idea what he was talking about. I can remember it distinctly and I can remember the damp and mouldy smell inside the temples, and yet I cannot recall the taste of the fresh fish that was caught and brought to me or the sound and names of the instruments that were played. Viggo continued to look at him, waiting patiently for an answer to his unasked question. Sensing it, Ian smiled at Viggo warmly. I remember being human, so very long a go. The year was 512 AD.Viggo gasped soundlessly. I knew you were among the oldest to still walk this earth, but I had no idea you had lived so long. Again Ian smiled his patient smile and went back to a place he had long since left. He could still see the fine jewellery on his fingers, polished daily by one of his many slaves. He could still feel the sun on his face, it was perhaps what he had missed the most over his long years spent in darkness. Viggo sent him a look, a silent invitation to please continue. The year was 512 AD, Ian repeated. A river valley along the dry coastal plain of northern Peru. I was amongst the most honoured of my village, a priest, the highest of priests to be precise. I had many lesser priests who worked under me, all of them over fed and under worked. We would sometimes dine on four course feasts while beggars sat outside eating their handfuls of rice. There was no royalty amongst the Moche, though the priests and warriors were treated as Gods. It was before the new religion, now known as Christianity, or perhaps it was just that word of it had not yet spread to Peru. We had our own set of Gods, terrible and great as they were. Our crops survived, but only barely. Rainfall was not a regular occurrence and when it did it lasted no longer then a few days. My job as priest was to honour our Gods on behalf of our people. Ian suddenly cut off and began chuckling softly. What? Viggo simply asked, deeply interested in Ians story. Thankful for a distraction, any distraction from the pain of Orlandos leaving and the hunger of missing his blood. It seems I was destined for the blood, for it has always been a part of me, bloodshed. The warriors of which I spoke were not just fighters and defenders, they were sacrifices. They would train their entire lives and battle amongst each other to be awarded the great honour of dying to please the Gods. How terrible it all seems now but how right it was to me then. I pity those little boys in Iraq who are brought up to believe that what their elders do is good and right, that one day they will grow into strong men who will please their God by strapping a bomb to their chest and killing themselves and others with it, a direct path to God. I pity them for I too know that delusion. They have not succumb to madness to carry out such acts, they truly believe they are doing what is right. It is for their ignorance I pity them. Ian looked over at Viggo and saw that his thoughts were still half on Orlando. My own brave warrior, so lost, he thought. Oh what an honour it was to die at the hands of the priest to feed the love of the gods. I would slash their throats with a sharpened blade that had been heated in the fire. The scent of burnt flesh is not something one ever forgets, I hadnt smelt it again until that dreadful foot and mouth disease that over took the live stock of our glorious countryside a few years back. They burnt the carcases to kill the retched disease and it would seem that whether human or cow, all flesh smells the same when it is burnt. The blades were kept sharp and I would slice right through to the bone. I knew nothing of jugular veins or veins at all for that matter, but I did know that the throat gave more blood then other parts of the body. The blood was caught in a brass cup, engraved with pictures that would frighten children of modern day. I would drink the blood and call up our prayer to the rain Gods. The rain would always fall a day or so later and the families of the sacrifice would bring trinkets and lay them outside my temple in thanks of giving their sons such great honour, such pride. Viggo saw it all in his head, the rain falling heavily, the warriors fighting each other, the blade in the fire, the blood dripping from Ians chin. He felt nauseous and deeply disturbed. How did you become a Vampire? It was a question that he had never asked Ian, as Ian had always told him that the past was something best left in the past if you had any hope of a future. I can tell you the facts of my birth into darkness Viggo, under that starless sky in the dry sandy wastelands, but I suspect you would like to hear the whole story, the story of how I came to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Viggo didnt reply, he didnt think he was expected to. He sat quietly and waited for his next distraction. Oh why couldnt he stop thinking about Orlando? And why did his hunger have to be so passionate? Priests lived as chaste men. We were to have no lovers our entire lives. It wasnt so bad, we had good food, fine things, the respect of our community. But a man can only resist temptation for so long. As I have said, I had many slaves. I was getting old, I was already into my fifties, as Im sure you can tell by my face. Though the immortal blood has smoothed away many lines, the age is still there. A slave girl named Aurelia, she had long dark hair and matching eyes.Like Orlando, Viggo thought weakly. She was only fifteen years, though back then many fifteen year old girls were already mated and mothers. How wrong it would be now for a man of fifty to fall in love with a girl of fifteen, still very much a child. It was not considered wrong in those times, that is if I had not been a priest. She was brave and strong and yet she obeyed and was respectful. I never mistreated the slaves given me and I thanked them when they completed a task I set them. Aurelia often spoke out of turn, asked me questions she knew she shouldnt, yet I answered everyone of them. I was a kind master, she told me, and an honourable man. As I said, I fell in love, helplessly so. For the first time in my miserable fifty years I smiled each morning I woke and I sung songs as I walked through the valley. Of course I knew I could never touch her for I would lose my ability to talk with the Gods. But as I have also said, a man can only resist temptation for so long. One evening as I was bathing, Aurelia came and sat beside me and talked to me about a dog she had seen in the marketplace, she was so happy as she talked of this dog, whom I could see no exceptionality in. But it made me happy that she was happy and I kissed her. It was a childs kiss really, no great passion, just lips upon lips, but it was wonderful and I savoured it. Over time she and I grew closer and it was clear that my love was returned. One night I made lover to her and I cried the entire time. I knew the Gods would curse me and that they would no longer heed my prayers but I needed her, I needed to be with her, to feel her young flesh against mine. She held me afterwards as I wept and told me how sorry she was for making me do this. She blamed herself as though I had no say in the matter, as though she were an wicked temptress, which could be no further from the truth. Viggo felt his heart ache for Ian and for himself and for Aurelia and for Orlando. With great love comes great pain, what a true statement, how terrible. We continued to be together physically, and I came to love her so deeply, there would only ever be one other I would love more. Ians face became grave as he thought of his beloved Gabriel. Then something happened which frightened us both more then anything else could have. I sacrificed a warrior, I drank his blood and I called up my prayer, Ian looked up at Viggo, his face displaying the amazement he had felt at the time. And it rained. It rained hard for three days. But how could that be? I was no longer pure. Everything I had ever been told about my people and our way of life was suddenly under questioning. Could it be that it would rain no matter what we did and could it be that there perhaps were no Gods. How could I accept that after fifty years? The fire crackled and drew Viggos attention from Ian. Belief is what separates us from the animals, he murmured softly. The ability to have faith in something we cant see or touch. Yes, Ian agreed. Isnt it a wonder that animals have never gone to war on an arrogant crusade or looked down on another for being different. The other priests found out about the nature of my relationship with Aurelia and we were brought before the elders. Oh, Ian suddenly stopped and smiled bitterly to himself. But I am forgetting a major part of my story, Aurelia was by now carrying my child. I could not allow disgrace to come upon her so I had arranged for her to leave by boat to the land of Britain. I had been forced to sell my many rings and lavish silks to pay for her passage to safety. I knew I would never see her or the child again but I knew it was right. She never made it to Britain, where the Pagan way of life was much more relaxed. They held me down and before my very eyes cut the child from her belly. I saw the tiny child, unformed and unable to breath on its own. It died within minutes. Aurelia took a little longer to bleed to death. She cried for me to hold her as she went to the Gods but they wouldnt let me, they held me down as I cried and screamed at them to let me go to her. Ian hadnt noticed the reddened tear that slid down his pale check, but Viggo had. What did they do to you? Viggo asked, his heart breaking for his sire and friend.They took me into the dusty wastelands, where I had no hope of returning to my village, and left me there to die. I lay under the blazing sun, which scorched my skin, and called out to the Gods, to my Gods, who I no longer knew if even existed. For three days I cried out to them to make it rain, to quench my first. Of course nothing happened. Then one night, I cannot recall how long I had laid there, I only know that my hearing had gone and my eyesight was failing as it does after only a few days without water. One night a creature lay over me, sniffing me, licking me. I felt this disgusting fluid in mouth and the rancid breath as this creature covered my mouth with its own. The creature had large fang teeth and yellowed eyes. Viggo sat forward in his chair, a vision of the memory of the monstrous face drawn by the Venetian artist Romoselli in the battered Latin book. The Vampire in its purist form.Yes, Ian nodded. To this day I know not why it saved me or made me a blood drinker but once it had fed me enough of its blood to restore my sight and hearing it drank from my throat. I thought it meant to kill me and I welcomed it. I whispered words to my beloved Aurelia and our child, telling them that I was coming to them. But then suddenly I felt the liquid in my mouth again and this time it wasnt vile and putrid but warm and thick. I drank greedily until the beast pulled itself away and ran off on all fours. I never saw it again. I had no knowledge of what a Vampire was, I knew not what he had done to me only that I was somehow changed. I was stronger, my eyesight was keener, my hearing impeccable. The mortal hunger I felt had gone and been replaced my a very different kind of hunger. Viggo knew this hunger all too well. He longed to sink his teeth into Orlandos soft neck, which was as smooth as a column of polished white marble and drink deep. Shuddering at the fantasy he again lowered his eyes and waited for Ian to continue. As the sun came up an instinct kicked in, an instinct to bury myself in the ground. Much like the instinct a new born baby has to suck from its mothers nipple. Ian looked at Viggo closely, he was hungering deeply and his heart was breaking without his angel. I made my way back to my village for revenge on Aurelias life.Viggos eyes shot up. You killed the entire village?Oh no, Ian assured him. I did far worse then that. I slaughtered their priests, the very ones who had held me down as I watched Aurelia die, I killed them the day of the sacrifice. With no priests to perform the rituals the people became panicked. I sat and laughed as they starred up at the sky, silent and confused as the heavy rain drops fell on their dirty faces. I laughed at them and their stupidity. The rain will fall whether your sons are killed or not, I cried out to them. It is not the Gods who send forth the rain, it is the clouds in the sky you fools. I did something much worse then kill them all, I killed their faith, their beliefs.Viggo nodded and stood slowly, he knelt down beside Ians chair and rested his head on Ians thigh. No words were needed, Ian already knew why Viggos heart was so burdened. As his child wept softly, Ian stroked his hair and sang one of the songs he once knew in a far away life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sky was only just beginning to lighten, birds were beginning to sing in the gardens outside. Hugo sat at his desk in a room with wall to wall windows and looked out at the lush gardens below. Isnt it odd that the most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly. Hugo was beginning to worry, it had been two days since anyone had last seen Orlando and he felt sick to his stomach that something might have happened to him. Orlando was different from the others. Hugo had trained many a warrior, he had seen angel after angel live and die at his side. But what he felt for Orlando was somuch more then that of student and teacher or general and soldier. Orlando was a son to him, a gift. Hugos head turned sharply as he heard a soft breathing sound from the doorway. His face relaxed and he smiled warmly at his protg . He stood up and walked over to Orlando, ready to embrace him and then reprimand him on his absence.Hugo didnt get the change though, for the second he reached Orlando the younger angel pulled back his fist and punched him hand in the jaw. What did you do to me your bastard? TBC (0) Comments

FIC: Blood of the Immortal 10 Posted 12/17/2008 9:40:06 PM Title: Blood of the ImmortalAuthor: Bwitched83uk (bwitched83uk@aol.com)Rating: NC-17 overall.Cast: Viggo/Orli Sean/Karl Ian, Elijah, Hugo, Keira Knightly.Summary: AU. Since the death of Christ a supernatural war has been raging. Two armies, the Vampires and the Angels, both after the same thingBlood.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I have taken names and characterisations from real people that I do not own, but the concept and the plot are all mine.Archive: www.geocites.com/b_witched83ukwww.livejournal.com/users/bwitched83uk Feedback: Makes me feel happy when skies are grey. Chapter 10 The birds had already sang their goodnight songs to one another and the sky was a dusky dark blue when Seans eyes opened. He scanned the room briefly, already sensing that Karl was no longer in the bed. His lover stood like a statue at the window, unmoving, unblinking. The dark haired Vampire starred out over the courtyard with its lush dusty pink blossom trees. How beautiful they were, how like humans; a short, intense burst of fragile beauty, soon to wither and die. The blond rose from the bed silently, though he knew Karl had heard him. He stood behind his lover and slid an arm around his hard waist. Leaning down, Sean placed a gentle kiss to Karls shoulder and felt the younger Vampire tense. Are you alright? Sean couldnt remember feeling so right. Karl had allowed Sean to make love to him, he had held Seans eyes and burrowed into his soul. Karl?Im fine, Karl said, his voice cold and emotionless. The monster was back, the faade.Together they stood there silently for some time. Sean continued to place little kisses to Karls shoulder, more to comfort himself then anything. Im going out.Sean stepped back from Karl as the younger Vampire moved. I was hoping we could go back to bed.Karl picked up his shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head, he never bothered with tiresome things such as buttons. Why?Sean let out a nervous laugh. wtf is up with people using credit and debit card for everything. . Karl wasnt supposed to be like this now, he was supposed to be Seans, like he was last night.Why do you think.Karl turned to him and held his gaze, all feeling that was there the night before was now gone. Cold, hard eyes that masked a thousand emotions. I need to feed. Why dont you take one of your books back to bed, you like that. His tone was distant and it made Sean feel cold suddenly. With that Karl left, closing his eyes to hold in all that he felt.Sean sat back down on the bed and sighed loudly. Last night had been prefect, everything Sean had ever hoped for, why could Karl not just accept that they loved each other and that perhaps they deserved a little happiness. ~~~~~~~~~~ Ian arrived home at around midnight and made his way straight to the library. Nosy old me.... . It wasnt cold inside or out and Ian certainly no longer felt it anyway, but he set about lighting a fire in the hearth none the less. The reddish glow gave the room more comfort, more of a homely feel. He settled down at his desk in the corner, which was cluttered with books and pieces of paper which he had scrawled notes on. His thoughts couldnt help but go to Viggo but he forced his mind to be silent. He couldnt very well track Viggo down and drag him back home like a naughty child who had run away. Stolen from meerkat. . He worried for his boy but there wasnt a whole lot Ian could do, Viggo was big enough to make his own choices in life, he just hoped that Hugo never found out. Over his long years, Ian had acquired many acquaintances, many of whom were dead now. But Ian made sure to write the ones that were still living regularly. Ian found great delight in talking to a mortal in a tavern, or pub as they were now called, being invited over for supper, learning about each precious life. His favourite type of mortal were the ones who had known great pain and sadness in their lives yet refused to let it break them, fighting back to become stronger then ever. He loved listening to them talk about their pasts and their hopes for the future. They were the ones who appreciated their lives, who lived it to the full. Ian had no time for mortals who wasted it. He had no problem with the occasional recreational stimulant but those who wasted night after night in some lowly, dark room, unconscious in their own chemical haze. What a waste of life that was, what a waste. Ian was still an English gentleman, though England was not his primary origin. He made certain every day to be dressed in a fine suit with a tie and splendid cufflinks of gold or emerald. Shit Fuck.... . He looked fabulous, even if he did say so himself. And oh how the elderly women of the neighbourhood took to him. Such a nice man, and still living with his three sons. His gentle eyes full of mischief, peppered hair kept neatly. Late night conversations lead to weird confessions.. . He would bow his head to them, Good evening ladies, and smile as he caught a glimpse of a blush in cheeks that hadnt looked so warm in years. He made an effort to write all the friends he had made over the years. Of course he wouldnt be seen at a computer, how unattractive those lumps of plastic and wires were. No, Ian still wrote the old fashioned way, with paper and an ink well. Opening his top drew to retrieve his stationary, his hand felt an old book, bound with ribbon. Ian removed the book and gazed down at it with his keen eyes. The ribbon was a delightful navy blue, which he untied carefully with nibble fingers. Ians eyes stared, transfixed at the book, old and beaten. It was in considerably worse condition to the one he owned but there was no mistaking that this was the very book he had been searching for. And now there it was, simply sitting in his top draw, tied with a bow. There was a small yellow post-it stuck to the front of it. There was only one he knew that would place a tacky yellow sticker on a beautiful, ancient book. IanFound this, thought you might like it. It is unprofessional to have a breakdown in front of your boss.... . I cant read a bloody word of it. Awardpage. . Looked like your sort of thing.Karl Ian carefully peeled the offending sticker off and stroked his hand lovingly over the front. =\. . A bubble of excitement rose inside of him, such as he hadnt felt for a very long time. He licked his thin lips and slowly opened the book. A wave sunk into the pit of his stomach as he realised he couldnt read a word of it either. This was not written in Latin as the other book had been, the book by Romoselli, the Venetian prophet. This language was one that Ian had never seen before, or perhaps he had, but it was so long ago and seemed so insignificant at the time that he mad paid it no mind. Another thing struck Ian as odd, this book seemed to be aged more then his book, the parchment seemed more unrefined and the hand writing was very different to that of Romosellis. Ian should know, he had studied it long enough. He must find Karl, find out where he got the book from and how much he knows about it. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Ians ears pricked up and he placed the old book carefully back into the draw. He stood and turned as who he thought to be Karl walked in. Ian turned and froze. Before him was his boy, his Viggo, holding the hand of an angel. Somewhere in the back of Ians mind he knew the angel shouldnt be here, for all their safety. He knew he should be worried about this but all he could do was stare at the beautiful angel. His dark eyes and dark curls, his soft olive skin, oh how painfully similar he looked. How he could so easily have been his Gabriel. Ian, Id like you to meet Orlando. Viggos voice was unsure. He didnt know how Ian would react to him brining Orlando here but Orlando was his life now and Ian and the others would have to accept that.Ian recovered and stepped forward, smiling at the memories of soft feathers against his chest. Orlando, it is a pleasure. He held out his hand and looked on as the unsure angel took the offered hand firmly. Ian knew the other two Vampires wouldnt be so courteous to him, not even civil. Which is why he let go of Orlandos hand and cringed inwardly as he heard Karl and Seans footsteps.Where the bleeding hell have you been? Sean came charging into the room before stopping dead in his tracks as he saw the angel standing there. Is this him?Sean glared at Viggo and then at Orlando. What the hell do you think your playing at? he asked Viggo. Viggo turned to him angrily feeling a desperate need to protect Orlando from Sean. I understand that you dont like this Sean but Orlando and I are in love and nothing you do or say will change that.Sean stared at him with wide open eyes. You love him? Are you mad? Dont you know what he is? What his lot do to our kind?Viggo moved closer to Sean and placed his hand on his friends shoulder. Don't worry, be happy. . He desperately did not want to fall out with his oldest friend, he just wanted to love Orlando and have Sean accept that. Sean shook his head at Viggo before covering his hand with his own. Weve been out of our minds Viggo, you could have at least left a note. And now the fun begins!. . He desperately wanted to ask if Viggo had fed at all but he thought that Viggo wouldnt like that, not in front of the angel.They both turned to look at Orlando and were surprised to find that Orlando wasnt paying them the slightest bit of attention. Orlando was staring intently at Karl, who stood in the doorway staring back. Their eyes were locked in confusion as their minds worked to recover missing memories. Karl moved forward slightly as he took in Orlandos face, eyes and lips. He looked so much like but no he couldnt be, could he? How could he be him? He couldnt possibly be the same young man he had known, the young man who tried to help him. Orlando? Karl asked cautiously. He moved even closer and the angel back up a few steps. The King Gorge street medical centre.Orlandos eyes widened as a flash of an image of the very building Karl spoke of hit him. He could see the white walls inside but he had no memory of ever being there or why he remembered such a building. Viggo took a step closer to Orlando who moved away from him, a look of a frightened rabbit about him.It is you, Karl whispered, utterly stunned. How can that be?Orlandos eyes squinted as he saw himself as a young man, mortal, moping the large Vampires brow. But he wasnt a vampire then, he was mortal, just like him. Karl. Halloween Party 2004...A success!. . Orlando said softly as the memory hit. In a matter of seconds a thousand memories flood Orlandos brain like a tidal wave. He felt sick and hot and he didnt understand what was going on. Talk about a pain in the @$$....4..... . It was as if he was being shown memories of someone that looked a lot like him. Whats going on, Viggo asked, looking from Karl to Orlando, whose eyes were still locked. Karl moved closer still and this time Orlando didnt move away. Karl looked at him in wonder. You were once mortal.Orlandos eyes widened as he realised that what Karl said was true. What the hell had happened? How could he not remember his life? He was always told that he was made by God to serve. What the hell was going on? In an instant Orlando ran from the room and out of the house. Still in shock Viggo ran after him only to see him take to the skies from the courtyard. Orlando, he yelled out to him. Karls eye widened as Viggo stormed back into the room and pushed Karl down into the nearest chair. What the fuck just happened?Viggo. Sean was there in a second, pulling Viggo away from his lover. Sean placed a calming hand on Viggos arm and looked back at Karl. Start talking, what was that all about? Karl shook his head, still trying to get it round it all. I cant believe it, he muttered to himself. But it must be him, it has to be.Ian put all thoughts of his book aside. It had waited thousands of years it could wait one more night. Who do you think he is Karl?Orlando. Karl looked up at Viggo who nodded. Viggo sat down on the floor in front of Karl and Sean copied him. Ian thought that his boys looked like unsure children, settling down for story time. When I was mortal, back when you used to visit me, Karl began, looking straight at Viggo. It wasnt long before you turned me. I was taking drugs, as you know. I could usually make a deal to score some, Id get fucked, then Id get high.Sean hated what Karl had been as a mortal. He didnt hate that he had been a renter but he hated that Karl had thought his love so worthless. There was a medical centre on King Gorge street, its a pet shop now. Orlando worked there, he couldnt afford to go to medical school, he told me once, but he knew what he was doing. Yum. . He was a nurse a carer and a doctor all in one. He was kind,