Reunited
Disclaimer: Legacy of
Kain belongs to Edios and
Warning: it has to be said . . . . this fic contains YAOI
(GuyXGuy), blood play and a lemon, if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it’s that simple.
If you choose to avoid any of these things the back
button is right there for your use and I hope you find what you are looking
for. By continuing you are acknowledging the above information and accepting
it.
Pairing: Kain/Magnus
Rating: NC-17
Part: one of god only knows, um maybe three.
Believe
it or not it was meant to be a one off but Magnus got out of hand.
Set: Post Smooth. Kain has left
Sebastian dead in the industrial quarter and now finds himself colliding with
another visage from his past
Authoress note: I needed
a break from slaughtered that damn fic is killing me. I guess you could call
this the sequel to ‘Smooth’ . . . or maybe just a spin off; I myself am unsure
what it is just yet.
Please note that this was written in the fragments of
time that I found. Meaning that it was wrote around
college, my jobs and what pathetic social life I claim to have. This means that
it was wrote at intervals, often at
Dedication: the title
came from my always amazing beta reader Odeena ^_^
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{Magnus}
The Eternal Prison
From the way prisoners in the Eternal Prison were
treated, it was Magnus’ opinion that this place had no business having any in
the first place.
He snorted at the thought, and winced. He was perched
on the thin railing, bare feet aching from the strain of having all his weight
focused on such a thin area. But he would not move; he was safe up here - at
least, for now. Yet he knew it was only a matter of time before those creatures
started looking for him again, and thus only a matter of time till they found
him.
He laughed quietly. A matter of time.
Strange how suddenly time mattered to him when he was trapped in a place that
was frozen in time.
Frozen in time.
He had nothing but time now, time between torture,
time to think, time to remember. But the memories were like poison seeping into
his mind, driving him slowly mad with guilt and grief. So he avoided memories
the way he avoided those creatures. He spent his forever running from those
creatures and running from his past.
Staring at the walls, with their uneven
stones.
Briefly, he wondered if all the stonework in this
hellish place was crocked. He imagined himself wandering the hallways and many rooms’
hands, searching the walls for straight and perfect stonework that didn’t exist
at all. Maybe once he had discovered the answer he would count the stones.
His mind wandered off shortly, considering whether the
stones had been deliberately made uneven, imperfection to heighten the
perfection that was elsewhere. He snorted loudly and listened to it echo back. This
place had no perfection; it was one twisted horror after the other, from the
stonework to the spider-demons.
He jerked suddenly, almost losing his balance,
realizing just how strange his thoughts were. He sniggered quietly. He’d been
here forever, and still he recognized his thoughts as insane . . . surely being
able to tell the difference between sane and insane clearly proved that he
still had managed to hold onto a shred of his sanity.
He shuddered to himself, taking gratification that he
had managed to protect even a fragment of his mind from them.
That thought was a cold comfort indeed.
He would hold on tightly to what little of his sanity
this place had yet to demolish.
Standing up from his crouching position, he stretched,
wincing as his muscles screamed at him, and began to pace on the thin railing,
displaying still amazing vampire balance. His thoughts flowed back to those
creatures that were no doubt looking for him right now and he wondered again if
this place was safe enough.
He sighed, missing the safe havens he had made when
he’d been new here, safe havens that took them ages to find and destroy. He
missed the safety. Again, he snorted. Truth be told, nowhere here was safe. Not
even your own mind.
In these dark little hovels, he had begun counting the
passage of time. There was little light here and now way to tell where the sun
or the moon was, so he had used his meals as a way to keep track.
There were equal spaces of time between his meals, and
so he concluded that he would get fed once a day. So each new meal was a new
day. The hovel had quickly become littered with white lines made with chalk, a
tally of the days. Last time he’d counted he had been here 7389 days. But the
last time he’d checked had been a lifetime ago.
He had quickly become bored of counting days. After
all, in a place where time stands still, what was the point in measuring time?
There was no end to this place, and he was beginning to believe there hadn’t
been a beginning either. He had always been here.
When thoughts such as these would crawl into his mind,
dragging themselves on bloody broken limbs into his consciousness, he would
walk, and at times where he could not walk he would breathe. Vampires do not
need to breathe naturally, and so it took conscious effort to make himself breath now.
The feel of air rushing into him, the strange tickle
as his lungs slowly deflated was enough, enough to distract him from the wild
swirling thoughts that he believed to be mad.
The iron railing creaked in protest as he moved over
it; a rusted area crumbled slightly, giving him cause for alarm. He stopped
moving and tried to remain as still as possible, preventing the railing from
giving up and breaking completely.
He disliked not being able to move. When there was
nothing else to concentrate on, his thoughts would often wander, mad hysterical
thoughts that sometimes he lost track of and could spend days on end focusing
on. He would come back to himself days later, if days really existed any more.
Often in these black times he would not remember and
would just snap back to himself, finding himself in a different area, often
with blood on his hands.
The blood was usually his own.
Yet there was always a worse way to go. He could fall
asleep. That thought alone made him shudder and wince. He hated sleep now;
sleep meant dreams and dreams were bad. He fought to remain awake constantly now, after all in a place with no time surely this was
possible. Unfortunately, it had been trial and error in the beginning.
At the beginning he had allowed himself to sleep.
But then slowly, he forgot to how tell the difference
between sleep and awake. Often he would think he was awake and find himself to
be dreaming.
He hated his dreams.
Sometimes his nightmares would cause him to wake,
screaming and clawing at his head, trying to force them away, to pull them out
with his bare hands. Then he would remember that nightmares were no longer
nightmares.
No. In this place, his nightmares were his memories.
Dark faceless creatures, slicing him open, removing
parts of his flesh. Inflicting on him more pain than he
believed to be possible. He had screamed for death many times, but in a
place where there is no time, death is impossible.
He hated those dreams that were memories, memories of
the torture he had endured only moments ago. But more than
that he hated the dreams that were his memories of the time before he was
encased in crocked stone walls, with no time to die.
Dreams that proved either he was completely mad or that
he had not always been here.
His dreams of home, those dreams caused him to awaken
weeping, the knife of loneliness spawned in this dark place seeming that little
bit sharper and that little bit deeper inside his soul.
After a little while he’d stopped sleeping.
But he
still remembered his dreams.
Sebastian
was hurt.
Broken and
bleeding on the ground outside the mansion, he had called out as he fell, and
seconds later a rather confused and worried scion had been leaning over him.
Vorador walked
up to Kain, who was looking Sebastian over, obviously trying to figure out how
dire the injuries were. A quick glance at his child let the ancient know he was
just hurt and that his injuries were in no way fatal, yet by the somewhat
subdued yet fanatic searching Vorador knew Kain actually was worried.
“He will be
fine.” Vorador smirked at the fledgling’s irrational fear.
A slight snarl was all he got in
response.
“I should
have been watching him,” Kain mumbled after a moment, Magnus winced at the note
of guilt easily apparent in the ashen haired vampire’s voice.
“That what
does not kill you only makes you stronger.” Vorador
put a cloven claw on Kain’s shoulder. The young vampire twisted to look up at
the elder, and golden eyes were openly confused.
Magnus felt
a smile twitch at his mouth, but stopped it. At that moment, Kain appeared like
any of them, one of Vorador’s own. Usually there was something that set him
apart from the other fledglings; it had taken Magnus a while to realize what it
was.
Eyes,
his eyes.
All Vorador’s children looked to him for the answers
they could not find, the looked to him openly with an obvious childish love in
there eyes.
Kain had
never had that.
He had
always appeared alone, he had never looked to anyone for comfort or answers and
yet here he was kneeling on the floor next to Sebastian, looking up to Vorador
for answers that were to all as plain as day.
Vorador
sighed quietly and knelt down, lifting his child in his arms. Sebastian stirred
slightly and Kain frowned a little deeper, hissing quietly as Sebastian made a
subtle pained sound. Then the confusion on Kain’s face wavered and a smirk took
its place.
“You are
wrong,” Kain whispered to Vorador as he stood, using the reaver almost like a
walking stick for support.
“He is not
dead, Kain,” Vorador spoke plainly, looking at the
child in his arms, “and when he heals he will be stronger than before.”
“But still,”
Kain actually smiled as he spoke now, “that which does not kill him had better
be able to run away damn fast.”
Vorador blinked for a moment before
laughing softly, making his way towards Magnus and the mansion.
“True,”
Vorador laughed, “very true indeed.”
It was then
Magnus had known that, yes, it was love. Not matter how much either of them
didn’t understand it or tried to hide it, Sebastian and Kain were in love. That
realization filled him with a mixture of emotions. Anger, for he knew he was
better than Sebastian, more deserving. Pain, for his longed with all he was to
be in Sebastian’s position. And also confusion, for he didn’t understand why he
should be feeling this way.
Instead of
turning and chasing down their attackers, Kain had accompanied Vorador into the
mansion, followed him without a word up to Sebastian’s room and waited.
It was one
night before Sebastian regained consciousness, a further three nights before
Kain left him and a total of four nights since the attack until the men met
there bloody and brutal end on the edge of the Reaver.
Why he remembered such odd and irregular parts of his
life he never knew, especially along with the loss of other parts of his memory.
He began to believe that this was part of the torture, that those demons had
crawled into his mind, disguised as his thoughts, and had erased parts of his
memory.
He did not remember a time before the Great War; he
did not remember the mansion without many soldiers wandering its halls. He did
not remember a time without Kain.
In fact, the earliest memory that he had kept was of
Kain.
The first time he had seen him he had been so shocked
that a fledgling as young as this could have accomplished what it was said that
this one had already accomplished. His shock dissipated quite quickly however,
after sensing the power that pounded out of him in waves. Obviously, he was
untrained in keeping his magic under control; Magnus had smiled then as his
shock had turned to mild surprise and wonder.
But that too faded a short while after seeing his
face, when the hood was dropped, and it altogether evaporated after hearing him
speak. Replaced by something very, very different.
Strange really that his clearest
thoughts, the ones unclouded by madness were the ones revolving around his life
in the mansion and more clearly around his obsession with his lord.
It was not love; Sebastian had loved him, that he had known. What he felt was most likely lust
tinted with slight awe, possibly making it feel a little like love. His
admiration had clouded his vision. The first time he had laid eyes on the ‘pale
enigma’, he had made a conscious decision. He would have him even if only for a
moment.
He needed to have him. It was the most powerful
emotion he had ever felt, like a great force had reached inside him tightened
its hand on his groin and forcing him to obey, ignoring any rational thoughts.
He would have him.
With the decision made, he had set about accomplishing
it.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who had made a
decision.
Many nights, they would speak, all of them Faustus,
Marcus, Sebastian, Kain and himself. All of them in one of the smaller and
slightly homier libraries, spread about one of the
tables, talking with each other about new plans, different positions, the
newest information on the serefan’s whereabouts.
It was these times he had studied his Lord, his obsession
growing more and more powerful, its grip on him tightening. The meetings were
spent just looking at him and listening to him. Most of the time, he wouldn’t
hear the words he spoke, just the sound. It was wonderful to just sit and
listen.
He would lie awake later imagining what could have
happened and would eventually happen for there was no doubt in his mind, even
after Sebastian had made an obvious claim, that he would have his lord or his lord
would have him.
He had had many different scenarios run though his
mind. Often, he had imagined waiting until the end of the meetings, waiting
till they would be alone, then through a mixture of words and subtle actions
either he or his Lord would end up pinned on the table, the other holding them
there, while ravishing the other’s mouth with hungry, starved kisses.
Yet always in reality, at these meeting Kain and
Sebastian would drift off together. Kain seemed unable to hear anyone else when
Sebastian was speaking, it never mattered what was said. Anything Sebastian
said was more interesting than anything that came out of anyone else’s mouth,
including Magnus’.
He had hated that. He could have spoke
the meaning of life and Sebastian could have said ‘banana’. Then, all that Kain
would have heard was ‘banana’.
This obviously frustrated everyone.
Faustus simply got bored and wandered off. Faustus was
lucky; he was one of those who could just follow orders, he didn’t need to know
why the order had been given or the mechanics behind it, just the fact that it
had been given was enough.
Marcus however grew angrier with each meeting, every word of his that went ignored causing another
little knot to weave itself into his hatred. Before long it was obvious he
wished Kain had never arrived. Vorador was arrogant and far to dominating, but
at least he listened to your ideas before he dismissed them. Kain didn’t even
hear what you said.
For Magnus, on nights such as these he would sit with
his father after the meetings.
Vorador had keyed in to what was going on between the
three of them almost instantly and annoyingly he had taken Sebastian’s side.
Always saying how nice it was that Sebastian was finally happy and questioning
if Magnus wanted to ruin all of that just for a quick lay.
Those words had always angered Magnus, for Vorador had made his ‘situation’ sound so trivial and
selfish and easy to ignore. But to him, it wasn’t; it was not just some pretty
girl who he quite liked the look of and would have been quite pleased to have
bedded. This was different. He burned every time he went near his lord; molten
lava replaced his blood and rushed like lightening to his groin.
It was physically painful for him to be in the same
room and not do or say anything to let everyone know how he was feeling.
He had tried bedding other creatures, tried to sate
his lust, yet it made no difference. No matter how many gorgeous girls or
beautiful boys he took, it made no difference. Since having met Kain, none of those charming
creatures he had been with in the past would have satisfied the near boiling
lust he was feeling now. The almost aggressive, sensual supremacy Kain held and
the occasional quiet moments had only tightened his desire for him.
Yet despite Vorador’s lack of understanding he was
still a comfort, always willing to talk with his child. They would spend long
nights talking of many varied things, and once Vorador had actually admitted
that he trusted Magnus above all others to keep his secrets.
Those words had made Magnus beam with pride
However, during these talks, Vorador
had spoken of strange things that often unnerved Magnus, ‘scraps of prophecy’
as he called them, fed to him by his maker.
It was hard to imagine Vorador having a maker, or even
being a young foolish fledgling once. Yet it had happened. Vorador had been the
first, the first vampire to have been human. His Sire, Janos Audron, had obviously been one of the blue ancients whose
images littered the mansion’s walls and windows.
Many of the scraps of prophecy spoke of a messiah, a
redeemer; but Magnus often got confused as Vorador mentioned a destroyer that
was also the redeemer.
Vorador had admitted that he still couldn’t put all
the pieces together, but he strongly believed that Kain had a role to play. He
wasn’t quite sure what, but he knew there was something.
“He reminds
me of someone I knew along time ago,” Vorador had
said. “Tthey were different, completely different. He
was soft, gentle and wise, while Kain - ” here Vorador would laugh “- well he’s Kain . . . yet they feel the same,
their . . . want for a better world... their aura is the same.”
Magnus
jerked suddenly. A sound lower down on the prison floor disturbed him. Looking
down, he half prayed it wasn’t one of those creatures. He sighed with relief
when he realised it was another inmate, a male.
He felt
his mouth water.
His
thoughts of what had been seemed to have momentarily re-awaken his lust, along
with his hunger for blood. True, the human was no Kain, but Magnus still had
his imagination.
Jumping
down from the railing, he followed the gibbering human male.
End Chapter One
Authoress note: this was meant to
be a one off, honest it was, but Magnus crawled under my skin and refuses to be
removed.
Little bugger.
Anyways thank you for reading ^_^
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