Author: Ariel Tachna
Author’s e-mail: [email protected]
LJ: www.livejournal.com/users/arieltachna
Pairings: will be revealed as we go along
Rating: NC-17
Warning: This story will have some very dark sections. Warnings will come with each chapter.
Beta: Jean
Disclaimer: I don’t know the actors and don’t make any claims about them. I just make up stories when I get bored.
Archive: VOLA, my site
Summary: Can a desperate wizard and a bitter, disillusioned vampire find a way to build the partnership that could save their world?.

Chapter 1

“Depp has agreed to meet with us,” Ian McKellan told his two captains.  “Tomorrow night at midnight, in the Père Lachaise cemetery. One of us and one of them. More than that, and they see it as a declaration of war.”  He dropped his bombshell and waited. He knew the two men in front of him. Had known them since they were little more than children.

“No way in hell,” Sean Bean exploded.  Ian almost smiled. Sean’s reaction was completely predictable. Now if Mortensen’s would be as predictable, they would be able to make some plans. “We are not sending a lone wizard to meet with a vampire. What if the vampire isn’t alone? What if he attacks?  What if…?” Ian listened to Sean’s ravings and waited for the other man to stop him. Sean was the passion; Viggo was the reason. It served the two of them well.

“I’ll do it,” Viggo interrupted.  “It’s a gesture of good faith. They’re offering to make one by sending just one vampire. We have to make one in return by sending just one wizard.  Besides Ian and you, I’m probably the most powerful of anyone we would trust to send. It will take more than one vampire to overwhelm me, even if Depp comes to the meet, too.  You know they’re our best hope, Sean.  Let me do this. We’ll agree to a length of time, and if I’m not back by the agreed upon time, you can bring in the cavalry and rescue me.  It’s a chance we have to take.”

Viggo knew the risk Ian had taken even approaching the leader of the vampires. To admit that they were not strong enough to defeat Kevin Smith, the powerful dark wizard who had started this war, took a lot of courage. It also left them incredibly vulnerable if Johnny Depp decided against them.  This war was upsetting the balance of the world. Not just the balance between natural and supernatural, but the balance of elemental powers that stabilized everything. Without wizards to keep the energy in check, everyone and everything would succumb to chaos. Viggo knew it. Ian knew it. Sean knew it. Viggo hoped, for their sake, that the vampires knew it as well. They hadn’t been able to get an edge in the war and casualties were mounting swiftly. They needed reinforcements before there was no one left to save.

Sean muttered curses under his breath, the air around him sparking with the power called up by his words. 

“Calm down, Sean,” Ian ordered. “I agree with Viggo, so unless you’re offering to go in his place, you need to help me figure out how to keep him safe.”

“Bad idea,” Viggo said before Sean could reply. “Your temper is too unpredictable, my friend. You’d fly off the handle at some imagined slight and we’d be in the same situation or worse. Trust me to handle this.”

“Fine,” Sean said, “but if you haven’t checked in within an hour after the meet, I’m coming after you, guns blazing.”

Viggo agreed to Sean’s condition. It made sense to have a backup plan. The vampires had never shown any sign of getting involved in this conflict between wizards, but that was no reason to take unnecessary chances. After all, they were about to ask the vampires to get involved. Smith was not dumb. If he hadn’t already had the idea of approaching some of the other magical races, he would have the idea soon. 

***********

Viggo thought carefully about every aspect of his preparations. He was willing to give the vampires a chance to prove their good will, but he wasn’t stupid. If he had to go to this meet alone, he was going to be as prepared as magic and modernity could make him.  He dressed simply in dark wool pants and a black turtleneck sweater. The October nights were cool, even cold. The long cloak he used for winter would keep him warm and was easy to discard if it came to a fight. His pants and sweater were loose enough that they would not hinder his movements.  His cell phone fit into a holder on his belt. It wouldn’t be any use in a fight, but if he didn’t call in, Sean would know there was a problem. He had long ago mastered the art of wandless magic, but he carried a wand anyway.  Giving it up or putting it out in the open might help convince the vampire that his intentions were honorable.  Not all wizards could do wandless magic, after all.

He was about ready to leave when someone knocked on his door. Reaching out with his magic, he felt Sean’s aura outside. With a flick of his wrist, he opened the door to let his friend inside.  “What are you doing here?” Viggo asked as he swirled his cloak around his shoulders.

“Going with you,” Sean answered.

“You’ll get us both killed that way,” Viggo retorted.

“Not to the meet,” Sean elaborated. “Just in the métro. I’ll find a bar still open nearby and that way, if there’s trouble, I can be there fast.

Viggo agreed and the two men set out for Anvers, the nearest subway stop. It was an easy ride down line number three to the Père Lachaise stop.  Viggo and Sean made it in plenty of time, giving them the chance to find a bar for Sean.  “I’ll call in an hour,” Viggo promised as he left Sean sitting in the little bar just down the street from the entrance to the cemetery.

Viggo drew his wand to open the gate, just in case the vampire was watching.  He didn’t want to give away his knack for wandless magic too soon. It was his ace in the hole if he needed to get out of there in a hurry.  The gate opened soundlessly, an added benefit of the spell Viggo used.  He slipped inside and shut the gate behind him, leaving it unlocked, one less barrier for Sean if he had to arrive in a hurry or for Viggo himself if he had to leave quickly.

“Throw your wand down,” a disembodied voice said from the darkness.  Viggo spun around, seeking the speaker. The voice was velvety soft, with a distinct British accent for all that he’d spoken in French.

Viggo did as the voice directed, dropping his wand and taking a step back.  “I’m unarmed now,” Viggo said. “Step out where I can see you.”

Movement in the shadows drew his eye, and he turned to face the vampire.  Viggo knew that members of the magical races came in all shapes and sizes, so he had no preconceived notion of what the vampire would look like, but he had not expected the vision before him. Dark curls surrounded a face the color of honey, with dark eyes and hairless skin. The vampire was about Viggo’s height, and likewise dressed in black. The vampire, however, wore no cloak or coat against the chill air, a stark reminded to Viggo of the nature of his counterpart. He knew that vampires did not age physically once they were made, so the creature could have been anywhere from the twenty years he appeared to be to hundreds of years old.  He had been captured at the cusp of manhood, old enough to be adult, yet young enough to appear innocent still. Viggo reminded himself that this was a vampire, and that, as such, he had not been innocent since he was made.




Chapter 2

The vampire gave the wizard a measuring stare.  Light colored hair, sandy blond, maybe reddish, it was impossible to tell in the low light, even for his preternatural sight.  A strong face, with light colored eyes, again impossible to tell exactly what shade. The jaw was solid, speaking of determination and character. It was a good face. A handsome one. But the vampire knew, only too well, that looks could be deceiving. After all, he himself had often been compared to an angel, only to have people discover that he was a devil in disguise.  The wizard was tall, but the length of his cloak hid any ideas about the rest of his body. Still, the wand on the ground was encouraging. The wizard hadn’t been obliged to agree.

“What’s your name?” the wizard asked.

“It might be safer not to use names,” the vampire replied. Johnny had explained the necessity of the meet, but with enough cautions to put even a vampire on his guard.  The man in front of him was clearly a wizard, but whether he trafficked in light or dark magic remained to be seen.

“If you with to remain anonymous, that is your choice. My name is Viggo,” the wizard said.

“You take unnecessary risks,” the vampire chided even as he turned the name over in his mind. It was a strong name, an unusual one. The vampire wondered idly where it came from, but he did not ask.  Anonymity, he reminded himself.

“Consider it a gesture of good will,” Viggo replied.  “You know why we’re here, I assume.”

“You want our help. That was clear from the message. What I don’t know is why we should get involved,” the vampire answered.

“If one side does not prevail, it will upset the entire balance of nature.  The world will be destroyed,” Viggo said earnestly.

“I know that, but why should we choose your side?  What can you offer us?”

Viggo wracked his brain for an offer that he could make and that would tempt the undead as well. He realized uncomfortably that all he knew was stereotypes. He did not even know enough facts to make an offer that would not be offensive.  “What do you want?”

The vampire laughed bitterly.  “That is a loaded question,” he said.

“I cannot make an offer if I do not know what you desire,” Viggo countered.

The vampire’s fangs caught the light as his lips twisted in the mockery of a smile.  “What a vampire desires?  Shall I tell you of our constant desire to feed on the warm blood of those around us?  Shall I describe the tantalizing feel of holding a living form against mine, knowing that, at my whim, that life could be snuffed out?  Perhaps you would like to hear of the lewd acts that my prey are willing to perform if only I will spare their lives?  What does a vampire desire?” he asked, stalking closer to Viggo, his eyes flickering over the wizard’s face, searching for a reaction.

Viggo tensed, the words of a simple repulsion spell on his lips. 

“To walk in the sun again. To smoke a cigarette. To live a natural life,” the vampire finished. He was impressed that the wizard – Viggo – had not backed down nor shown any sign of disgust at his words.

“You ask for something beyond the power of wizards to give.  Name a price I can meet and we will discuss it.”

The vampire did not believe him, but he decided to ask again, this time for something that the wizards could give if they wanted. “To be given a say in the future. To not be treated as less than the wizards. We are different, yes, but not less.”

“What do you mean?” Viggo asked.

“We are treated like filth,” the vampire spat, “worse than the non-magical even. We are persecuted, driven out if our natures are discovered. There are laws to protect the non-magical from such treatment. We want the same protection.”

Viggo paused. The vampire was right, he realized.  Vampires were seen by many as less than human, less worthy of protection, when, in fact, their great age probably offered much wisdom. It seemed to Viggo little enough in return for helping to win the war.  “I do not make the laws, but I will add my voice to your cause.”

“And your leaders?” the vampire asked.

“It is a process,” Viggo said.  “It is not something they can promise to change. Only to work towards.”

The vampire looked unconvinced. He turned, as if to leave.

“How do I prove my sincerity?” Viggo blurted out, not wanting the alliance to fail before it ever began.

The vampire turned back, eyeing Viggo speculatively. There was a way, of course, for him to read the heart of this man, of any man, but most would not submit willingly to a vampire’s kiss. Still, if the wizard agreed, he would know for sure.

“Let me taste you.”

Viggo was shocked. Taste him?  What did that mean?  “What?” he asked.

“A vampire can read into the heart of his prey when he tastes their blood. I don’t need much. Just a few drops. Let me taste the truth of your offer.”

Viggo nodded uneasily. The vampire was stronger than he, no doubt, and if he chose to take advantage, Viggo was not sure he could stop him. Uneasily, he reached for the high collar of his sweater to bare his neck.

“Your wrist will be fine,” the vampire said sardonically.

Viggo offered his wrist, nerves making him tense up against the pain to come.

The vampire caressed his wrist with one long finger, careful not to scratch the skin with sharp nails. “Relax. It will hurt less.” Then he drew Viggo’s wrist toward his mouth.

Viggo felt the vampire’s lips first, smooth and surprisingly warm for a member of the undead. Then the lips drew back, letting the vampire’s teeth come in contact with the sensitive skin. Not his fangs, yet, just his teeth. In another setting, it would have been a tender caress. Despite himself, Viggo felt a growing attraction for the beautiful creature holding his arm. The vision of that dark head bending to touch his skin was sinfully erotic in its simplicity. Then the fangs punctured his skin, sending a jolt of pure lust through Viggo. He had never been one for mixing pain with his pleasure, but the connection established between his wrist and the vampire’s teeth and tongue was positively sexual, despite the initial pain.  Viggo shuddered, trying to keep himself under control.

The vampire felt the connection slam into place as soon as his fangs penetrated the wizard’s skin. He felt it every time he fed, but it had never before been this intense.  He could feel the wizard’s magic flowing through his body and into his own along with the blood.  He resisted the urge to feed in earnest. A few drops of blood from the wizard had already strengthened him more than drinking his fill from an ordinary man. What would drinking his fill from the wizard do?  The vampire was a creature of impulse, not used to denying himself whatever he wanted.  The wizard was different, though, than his usual prey.  If he gave in to his desire, the wizard would probably stop him, possibly hurt him. And the alliance that Johnny had sent him to forge would fall apart. He withdrew his fangs and ran his tongue over the wounds to staunch the bleeding and capture the last precious drops. Then, he forced himself to raise his head.

Viggo stared at the vampire’s face, flushed even in the darkness, drops of blood still clinging to his fangs. It should have been repulsive. Instead, he found it unspeakably erotic. His own pulse was still pounding from that final caress, from the intimacy of the vampire’s tongue caressing his damaged skin. He wondered if the vampire could sense his racing heart. Their eyes met and held for long, tense moments when Viggo was not sure if the vampire would flee or bite him again, when Viggo was not sure if he wanted to flee or to taste his own blood from the vampire’s ruby lips.

“There is no lie in you,” the vampire said finally.  “I will tell Johnny to make the pact and join your side.”

“I will take the terms to Ian. I know he will honor them.”

The vampire nodded and turned to go.  “Wait,” Viggo called.  “Will you meet me again tomorrow so that I can tell you if Ian accepts?”

The vampire did not turn back, but he did nod his agreement.  He took another step before Viggo’s voice stopped him again. “Tell me your name.  After what we just shared, give me that at least.”

The vampire still did not turn. He did not dare, but his voice drifted through the darkness. “Orlando.”


Chapter 3

Even as his name hung in the misty air, Orlando himself was gone with little more than the flutter of dead leaves to mark his passing.  Viggo stared at the space where he had stood, turning the name over in his mind. Orlando.

Orlando.

It was not a common name, not a modern name.  It made Viggo wonder about Orlando’s origins, his ancestry.  Where he had come from and what circumstances had led to his becoming a vampire. 

A chilly breeze rattled a few leaves that still clung to the otherwise bare branches, the sound and the cold sending shivers through Viggo. He looked around him at the eerie shadows cast by the monuments of stone and marble, metal and concrete.  The wind picked up, swirling the fallen leaves around his feet and around the tombstones. Viggo shivered again, as he realized how completely unaware of the weather or his surroundings he had been while talking to Orlando.  He replayed their conversation in his mind, trying to find any hint of guile in the vampire’s words or actions. There had been plenty of bitterness, plenty of cynicism, even of anger, but Viggo had sensed no deceit.  And Orlando’s answer, that he wanted to live a natural life, tore at Viggo’s heart, the one he liked to pretend did not exist.  The pain in those words was too real to be denied.

Surely that was what had motivated Viggo to make the offer to help the vampires. He could not turn them back into what they once were. He did not know if such magic even existed. He could, however, help them lead the least difficult lives possible.  Viggo was fairly sure he could convince Ian of the justness of the vampire’s cause, and where Ian led, others inevitably followed.  The vampires would have their equality if Viggo had anything to say about it.

Viggo’s mind skittered away from the rest of the conversation, but the image of Orlando’s head lowering to his wrist would not leave Viggo alone.  Orlando had done exactly as he had promised, taking only a little blood rather than trying to feed from him. That convinced Viggo that Orlando had not just been toying with him about reading into his heart.  The incredible feeling of the vampire’s fangs on his wrist washed through him again, sending a shiver of a different sort over his skin.  Standing there away from Orlando’s presence, Viggo could not quite believe what he had done, what he had let the vampire do, yet his continued reaction to the bite – he made himself use the word – left him forced to admit that he had enjoyed it, even been aroused by it, in a way that nothing else in his checkered past had done. 

A sound behind him had him spinning around, hands up, ready to cast whatever spell seemed appropriate. They dropped to his side when he saw Sean standing there, wand at the ready.

“Are you all right, mate?” Sean asked. 

“I’m fine,” Viggo assured him.  “He’s gone. You can put your wand away.”

Sean lowered his wand, but did not put it away. “Then why didn’t you check in?”

“I was thinking,” Viggo answered slowly.

“Thinking?” Sean repeated incredulously.  “Come on, it’s cold out here. Let’s get someplace warm so you can tell me how the meet went.”

Viggo started toward the gate, still half in a daze from all that had transpired with Orlando when Sean stopped him. “Forgetting something?” Sean asked.

Viggo looked at where Sean was pointing. Viggo’s wand lay on the ground still where he had dropped it at Orlando’s request.  With all that had followed, it had completely slipped Viggo’s mind.  He went back and picked it up, slipping it into the pocket in his cloak designed specifically for that purpose. “Let’s go,” Viggo said gruffly, not wanting to think anymore about the unsettling encounter with the vampire.  He knew he would have to explain at least some of it to Sean and again to Ian, but he hoped to keep the more… personal parts to himself.

Mechanically, Viggo followed Sean back to the métro stop that would take them home.  They were the only two on the platform, and when the train came a few minutes later, the only ones in the car.  “What did he say?” Sean wanted to know when they were settled for the ride back to Viggo’s stop.

“He agreed, for a price,” Viggo replied.

“What price?” Sean asked warily.

“That we try to pass laws that would protect vampires from discrimination.  They have less protection than the non-magical folk when it comes to that kind of thing.  I’d never thought about it until Orlando mentioned it, but he’s right. It’s not at all fair.”

“Orlando?” Sean asked, teasing a little.

Viggo colored slightly, though he tried to control the reaction.  “That’s his name. I told him I would take the terms to Ian.”

Sean looked at him speculatively.  Then he grabbed for the collar of Viggo’s sweater. “Did he bite you?”

“What?” Viggo said irritably, pulling away from Sean.

“You’re too amenable. You didn’t let him bite you, did you?”

Viggo almost lied to his best friend. He wanted to lie. He wanted to keep that little detail for himself and Orlando alone. Except that he was sure Orlando would tell Depp as proof of Viggo’s sincerity, and Viggo had never lied to Sean in his life.  Wordlessly, he pulled up the sleeve of his sweater, revealing the two tiny incisions where Orlando’s fangs had penetrated his skin.  As he looked at the marks, Viggo felt a fresh surge of desire. He tamped it down ruthlessly. He had made a gesture of good faith. That was the end of it.

Sean’s shout echoed through the empty car when he saw the marks.  “You fool!  What possessed you to let him bite you?  Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I offered,” Viggo said softly, resigning himself to the inquisition that would surely follow.

“You what?” That exclamation was more explosive than the first.  “Why would you do such a stupid…?” Words failed him. “We have to get you to a doctor.”

Viggo sighed.  “He didn’t feed off me. He just took a few drops. Enough to make sure I was telling the truth.”

“Explain,” Sean demanded.

“Vampires can read the hearts of their prey.  By letting him taste my blood, I convinced him that I was really who and what I claimed to be.”

“He told you that?” Sean asked.

Viggo nodded. 

“And you believed him?” Viggo could see Sean getting angry again.

“It wasn’t even a minute, Sean.  He didn’t try to take more than he said he would. He didn’t try to force anything on me.  He’s the one who opted for my wrist rather than my neck.  I didn’t know that vampires could draw from your wrist. All we know about them is stereotypes. If they’re going to be our allies, it’s time we found out more.  The truth, this time, not legends and bad movies.  It’s good strategy, if nothing else.”  Viggo hoped that argument would convince Sean, even if nothing else did. Sean was many things, hotheaded and impulsive at times, but he was also a cunning strategist.

“All right,” Sean agreed. “We’ll see what we can find out.  We can have Ian send another message when we’re ready to meet again to discuss our plans.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Viggo said, bracing for another explosion.  “I’m meeting Orlando again tomorrow night to tell him what Ian said about their terms.  And no, you’re not coming with me then, either.  He didn’t hurt me tonight when he had the chance. He’s certainly not going to hurt me tomorrow.”

Sean could not imagine what the vampire had said or done to convince Viggo that he was harmless. In Sean’s experience, there was no such thing as harmless. Sean could do nothing about Viggo’s attitude, but he was not so inclined to trust the vampires. Not without more proof. He would just have to make sure Viggo did not do anything too stupid or too dangerous.  He did not want to have to fight this war without Viggo’s aid. 

“You’re a daft bugger, Vig. You know that, don’t you?” Sean said as they left the subway. 

“So you keep telling me,” Viggo replied with a short laugh.  “I can’t do this alone, Sean. I’m not asking you to trust them, but I am asking you to trust me. Help me make this work.”

Oh, damn! Sean thought. He could not resist Viggo when he made those kinds of heartfelt requests. Not from the day they met thirty years ago. And it never stopped getting him in trouble.  “All right,” Sean agreed. “But only because you asked.”

Viggo chuckled and threw a companionable arm around his best friend’s shoulders. He could always count on Sean.