Youth
Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs people who
are not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I
have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Kain . . . then
he’d be mine.
Rating: PG-13
Set: post Blood Omen Pre Soul Reaver
in the time of the clan Lords
Authoress
note: Wanted to
write something for Easter, the fics got nothing to
do with Easter but . . . never mind lol.
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[Kain]
He seemed
to like to play.
Although
my child was no longer a child he still acted like one at times and I still saw
him as one. I doubted that I would ever be able to bring myself to see him as
anything but. I can still recall my mother saying something similar to me when
I had been young and mortal, that no matter how old I grew to be, or how
accomplished in the world I became I would always be her child. At the time it
had angered me to know that she would always look upon me thus but now I think
I can understand, she had meant no offence to me, she had not been belittling
me or my actions, she had simply been speaking truth.
Thus how I
saw Raziel. Although one could hardly blame me when he acted as he did at times
like this. Hide and seek, a game for children, although I knew that when the
game ended, when I won, my ‘prize’ would have nothing childish about it. I
shivered to myself feeling the small hairs on my body quiver to attention at
this thought as I moved down a silent hallway.
The
sanctuary was not completely empty, there were a few from each of the clans
here, I’m unsure why I allowed them residence in a place built for myself and
my children but there are times when even I dislike being alone. I cannot
remember the last time I spoke to those living in this place but I could always
feel them, hear them, and smell them, it was how I had known he was here the
moment I returned, I could smell him in the air, although he left me very
unsubtle clues as to his presence, such as his clan drape ‘accidentally’ left
on my throne. Raziel had never been a creature of subtlety; from the moment of
his birth he had been loud and almost clumsy. He had lost some of his
‘clumsiness’ in the sense that he no longer tripped and knocked things down but
he would never lose the inherent inelegance he had been born with, both
physical and mental. It took little concentration to follow the path he had
recently taken; his scent was fresh and strong. It was clear he had been here
recently and all I had to do was follow.
It did not
take me long.
The first
time I found him he was in a room that I had not been to before, it held
tables, round tables with chairs. I frowned for a moment wondering what on
Nosgoth this room was for but my attention was quickly drawn away from such
thoughts by the knowledge that someone was behind me. He moved before I did and
struck at my back, the blow landing across the back of my shoulders, the force
knocked me forward a step and I used my own momentum to turn myself. I moved
faster than he could, faster than he ever would be able to and held him pressed
against one of the tables. I have held many creatures pinned before, many have
writhed and twisted against me, some times pleasantly sometimes in fear, but
none have laughed as he did now.
“I forget
you can move like that,” he smiled at me; he lifted his head and licked at my
mouth “it was a pleasant reminder.”
“You know
how I move Raziel.” I leaned back and allowed him to stand, the awkward
position of pinning him in such a way had been causing my back to voice
complaints, but let him think my movement was out of pity for him.
He was
smaller than I, strongly built, muscled in a way that all my children were but
still a good head shorter than I; he made me feel almost lanky in comparison. I
turned away from him, smirking to myself when he pressed against my back, a
small sound of contentment escaping him. It was hard not to smile, but I
managed. He moved against me for a moment until he heard me swallow at the
reaction he was causing in my body. He laughed quietly and I turned pulling him
against my chest. For a moment I thought I had won, thought I would take my
prize in the room I had never been to and had no clue as to what it was for.
“Child,” I
spoke softly, my voice more of a growl than I had expected it to be
“I am not
a child,” he said sharply but with no malice “I am a clan lord of Nosgoth,
highest in rank and in power; I am not a little child.”
“You are
my child,” I smirked, he went still for a moment and I could almost see his
thoughts, half touched by my statement and half injured pride. His pride won
out in the end and I suffered a sharp strike to my jaw. None but he dare to
strike me, but the strike was little more than a tap, something to distract me
as he jerked out of my hold and bolted down out the room, down the hallway and
out of my sight.
“Bastard.”
I hissed but like him my voice held no malice. It was part of the game, he was
trying to torment me and unfortunately for me he was doing a good job of it. I
sighed to myself and moved out of the room after him, blood dripping from my
jaw onto the cold floor.
I followed
him deeper into the sanctuary, under the earth into the cold dry rooms that
made up the lower chambers. Even here there were rooms set aside for dwelling;
I smiled to myself remembering why we had had to add them. The clan holdings
had taken time to build even Rahab’s abbey and Zephon’s cathedral, although the
structures were already there the inside still needed to be altered; and thus
the clans had all dwelt here and all were growing at an alarming rate. New
rooms had been dug out from the ground beneath, others added on the rapidly
extending sides, for some reason we had never built up. But now the clans were
all in separate holdings, all still growing, and now these rooms lay unused and
silent save for when my most frequent visitor decided to play games with me.
He was in
the last built of these rooms, it was small and dark but darkness holds no
secrets from either of us and I could see him easily. He was sprawled along the
bed, I smirked realising I had half expected him to be hiding beneath it. He
looked at me and smiled, he was genuinely happy to see me; that simple fact
still managed to effect me the same way it had when he had been newly raised
and had made small happy sounds whenever I came back to him. Never in my life
had someone been genuinely happy to see me, even when mortal, my father had
rarely been sober enough to recognise me and when he was he was always foul tempered
and my presence always seemed to aggravate him. My mother had been a child
herself when she had married and my brothers and I had been dolls to her, and
although she had spoken fondly to me I knew she saw me and my brothers as
something forced upon her. As a fledgling vampire I had only associated with
Vorador and he had always regarded me with a cold wariness, like one would a
dog that’d been fathered by wolves, it was strong and useful but it could
become savage at any time.
Only my
eldest son regarded me with complete and open trust and he was always happy to
see me. I recovered myself quickly and moved towards him, his expression
changed to one of pride and he smirked at me before coming up onto his knees,
still smaller than I, he used this to his advantage and nipped lightly at my
shoulder.
“It took
you longer this time my Lord.” His words soft and sultry, I let myself relax
and allowed him a few more moments before I leaned down and nipped at his
throat hard enough to draw blood. He gasped in surprise and drew back from me
far enough to meet my eyes, I smirked and let him see his blood on my teeth.
“Don’t
think you can distract me, Child.” I let my voice become a deep rumble and
watched pleased as he shivered I leaned in closer to him and let my voice drop
“my blood is on the upper floor,” he looked up an expression of false innocence
on his features, I had to fight a real smile at his game. “Do not pretend you
have forgotten, as I certainly haven’t.” He trembled against me, a small sound
escaping him and I smirked.
I would
enjoy my prize.
End Fic
Authoress Note: yup, another fic. I hope you
liked.
Please Review.