The Forgotten Gods
Disclaimer: Legacy of
Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal Dynamics 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 Vorador . . . then he’d be mine.
Warning: this fic contains YAOI
(GuyXGuy), blood play and a lemon, if this offends or upsets you do not read
this, it’s that simple.
MILD
Rating: M
Pairing: Janos/Vorador
Setting: pre all games.
Authoress note: Randomly
reading over my old fics and I remember this one being so much better than it
actually was so in my infinite boredom I am re-writing it . . . again.
IMPORTANT NOTE: I still
have the original version for those who want it. This version is completely different, does not follow the same story line as the
last one at all. (Really should have probably called it something else and
wrote it as a separate fic but oh well.)
Also I am assuming the ancients were affected by
water, but only after the curse.
Enjoy.
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Chapter Five
“Please,” the mortal breathed,
purring quietly when the vampire pressed against him on the bed.
How had this happened, Janos found
himself thinking as rough hands moved gently over his sides and up his back. He
shivered the small hair on his body rising to attention at the soft movement of
hands further up his back until they collided with the space where back met
wing and the vampire groaned deeply. How had this happened, he had been doing so
well, they had been doing so well. Then somehow this.
His disjointed thoughts were ruined when fingers tips with short blunt human
nails dug into feathers and both vampire and mortal let out soft sounds of
pleasure.
This was madness.
How had this happened.
{Several
days earlier}
The rains
had started when he had been air-born; the first few drops hitting his skin and
making him wince. But it worried him little he was almost home. He had hunted,
he had killed, and he had fed. But still the hunger coiled inside of him, it
was quieter now but it was by no means silenced. He had returned to the aerie
with only some minor burns that healed quickly as he took shelter from the
slowly increasing rain. He sighed looking out at the grey skies and the melting
snow, Nosgoth would be water logged now for a time and he would be effectively
grounded.
Shaking
the dreary thoughts from his mind the vampire turned to other things. There was
still the matter of his guest to sort, the mortal was still wounded and would
be for some time. Janos knew he needed to be able to control himself around
him. But with the rains starting it would be difficult to leave, to hunt and he
knew life would not be easy. Yet somehow they had managed, he had managed for
days. Days spent in quiet conversation, often broke with awkward silences,
embarrassing moments when he would catch the other watching him or when the
other would catch him. Long nights filled with tales from the past which seemed
to hold the mortals attention and often sparked debates that were reminiscent
of the time before Vorador had fallen from the canyon wall.
Janos
mourned that time, the time when there were no awkward silences, when the
attraction seemed to be his and his alone. He could deal with one sided
attraction but this was to much now that the mortal
seemed to feel it too. It was difficult to be in his company knowing he would
be unlikely to protest should he lean in, close the distance.
Some days
were worse than others, most of the time things went smoothly enough and there
were few times when Janos found himself leaving the room to stop himself doing something he knew deep down he should not. The
day Janos finally broke was one of those good days. He had woken slowly to the
sound of a mortal’s heart beat in his home and had found it soothing rather
than provoking. He had risen, dressed and poured fresh water from the lower
religions of his home that were still connected to the lake. Then he had walked
to the room he had given to his mortal companion.
Vorador
had been sitting up, when he entered looking around the room with interest, a
book open I his lap. Briefly Janos wondered how the mortal had managed to sit
up alone without waking him, and how long it must have taken him to manage it.
“You seem
well this morning.” Janos smiled and winced at the look he received in return.
Vorador’s eyes were cloudy and clearly unfocused. Vorador coughed hard and
Janos
“Thank
you, I feel somewhat better.” Vorador muttered, his eyes clearing slightly
“You look
much better today,” Janos smiled and it was true, the mortal had more colour to
his face and his movements were smoother, less stiff and pained. He was clearly
recovering. The cuts and abrasions on his skin were closed and fading, his
blood no longer escaped him and he seemed in a calmer frame of mind this day.
“It is a
shame I cannot say the same to you.” Vorador answered glaring at Janos “you
seem to look worse with every passing day.” Janos flinched at the blow, his
wings twitching in indignation, feathers fell to the ground and he winced
though not from pain but rather embarrassment. In his haste to care for his
guest he had allowed his own appearance to falter.
“It
matters little my appearance Vorador.” Janos chided and looked away from the
mortal to the window. “It is difficult to tend to . . . myself when in such
limited space.”
“Limited?”
Vorador laughed, this room alone was bigger than the village elder’s entire
house
“I did not
only mean literal space.” Janos breathed; “there is time and other aspects.” Vorador frowned for a moment then nodded understanding.
“You
cannot hunt till the rains pass.” He nodded, knowing there had been no question
in Janos’ words but feeling the need to state the obvious. The vampire nodded
and Vorador swallowed hard. The mortal had been thinking for the last few days;
thinking on his own nature and the nature of his companion, wondering why each
was defined by their appetite. When in truth it did so little to define them
truly. Janos the bloodthirsty monster and Vorador the mortal human, it made him
want to laugh at how ridiculous it all was.
He
shivered hoping the vampire did not notice and found himself wondering why whenever
he thought on Janos’ blood hunger he automatically jumped onto more carnal
thoughts. Maybe because the only way he could identify with the vampires hunger
was through his own lusts and to him lust meant sex. So he naturally confused
the two, but then why did Janos seem to as well? Vorador sighed, that rationalisation sounded
weak even to him. But despite that he looked to the vampire sitting on the edge
of his bed and spoke.
“My offer
still stands.” In those four small words Janos felt all the tension of the last
few days double on his shoulders. He tensed himself hard enough to get a mild cramp
in his shoulders.
“You are
taking care of me, let me help you.” The mortal pressed. “you
said yourself you can take without killing, surely that’s why you brought me
here!”
“What!”
Janos felt a lump form in his throat, “you believe . . . you believe that I
brought you here to feed from you?” Vorador looked shocked at Janos’ reaction
“Well,
yes.” He stammered “it seemed . . . I am stuck here, with no where else to go
as are you . . . it . . . well.” He stopped unable now to find the reasoning he
had been thinking on earlier.
“You are
not a prisoner Vorador.” Janos snapped. Although the mortal’s words were broken
and hard to decipher he understood the logic, it did when one looked at it from
a humans point of view seem that he was intending to ‘keep’ Vorador as the only
mortal that did not take his own life or fight at the sight of him. But Janos
did not like the idea of pets.
“Forgive
me.” Vorador said slowly “it was not meant to sound as it did, I am grateful
for your aid and only wished to . . .” again he trailed off, hating himself and
his inarticulate nature.
“I know
what you meant mortal and you are kind to offer but,” this time the vampire
paused swallowing hard “I don’t want to hurt you further.” Janos breathed knowing
that days had passed since he had last fed and his last feeding had been small
and rather wasteful on his part, his anger flaring and causing him to stop too
soon. Vorador laughed at his words a soft sound that made the vampire shiver
slightly.
“Hurt me?
You can’t hurt
Janos
inhaled sharply. His feral golden eyes flowed over the man that lay amongst the
pillows. Unconsciously he tested the air with his tongue, his mouth watering as
he licked the taste of Vorador’s scent from his lips. He could feel himself
shaking and see the same happening to the mortal; Vorador clearly sensed the
change in the vampire. The mortals tension seasoned the air, permeating it with
the scent of lust and apprehension, Janos growled to himself it was making him
buckle inside, making him fold in upon himself.
He wasn’t
sure entirely what had happened.
He did not
understand how he had moved so fast with out thinking, he did not understand
where the blanket that had covered the mortal had gone or how the mortal had
moved his leg to hook it over one of his own and he did not quiet understand
how the mortal who was still injured managed to get and arm between them to
unhook the latching on his trousers. Janos growled wondering briefly what the
mortal was doing, Mortal usually panicked when he lunged, they did not … become
carnal. He growled lower this time not understanding but not caring either he
could feed both lusts surely that was a good thing.
The mortal tasted good, his skin slightly tinted with the flavour of
salt, sweat and somehow blood. The vampire could feel the hunger rising up
under the lust that was suddenly spiking through his nervous system like a
pulse. Lunging up he pressed their mouths together hard and it wasn't long
before he tasted a little blood in his companion's saliva. He groaned harshly
and brought both hands up to the mortal’s face, holding him still. If Vorador knew
or cared that he was bleeding, the vampire didn't know.
Vorador bucked under the vampire as much as he was able, given his chest
still hurt a great deal and for a creature built to fly Janos had a surprising
amount of body weight. He didn’t know what had occurred in his companion to
suddenly warrant this but he found himself not caring why Janos had snapped. He
knew he should be fighting for his life, for a mortal pinned by a vampire was
destined to die, yet Vorador found himself pulling the vampire closer with one
arm around his shoulders, the other trying to force leather away from blue hips
as his own arousal rested hard against the one above him.
Cloven
claws moved from his face leaving only one hand to hold him still while its
twin ventured lower, drifting over bruised ribs with gentility despite their
rising lust. It continued lower but not to where the mortal desperately wanted
that touch. Instead it ventured around and behind. Vorador felt fear when
suddenly the gentle touch was on a place he had not expected, a strange rumbling
sound from the vampire distracted him for a moment as Janos let the tip of his
finger slide into Vorador’s body a vestige of his conscious making him perform
the kindness. The mortal tensed and cried out in surprise, but the cry was
short lived, the feeling was alien but not painful, even if the vampires talon
was larger than a mortal man’s fingers would have been. Janos was slow and as
always gentle, despite his verbal sounds and occasional sharp thrust downwards
against the mortal, he did not hurt him.
After a
few moments Vorador cried out again in surprise when the vampire moved over
something inside of him that made the world narrow, and he found himself
fighting again to get the leather from the immortal. Cloven hands joined his
own, moving away from his face and hip to help the mortal slide leather away
from blue skin. Then there was nothing between them, both felt their breath
hitch at the sudden contact of bare skin in such a sensitive place.
“Please.”
Vorador
hummed his approval and tightened his arm around the vampire’s shoulder while
his now free hand moved up slowly over the vampires back watching as the
immortal shivered under his touch pressing them tighter together. Vorador’s
hand collided with the space where wing met back and Janos felt his hips jerk hard;
the mortal gasped and fisted his hand into the feathers.
Janos’
entire world reeled. His mouth bared into a vicious growl, exposing sharp,
carnal teeth that glistened an unnatural white. His breathing became erratic
and hitched, his vision spun, and suddenly he was sinking his incisors deeply
into hot, yielding flesh...
Vorador
suddenly screamed and went rigid.
His lips
parted in a mute gasp as Janos removed his talon and dove into him with one
sharp, solid thrust. It shoved the mortal man upwards, forcing his head to
collide hard with the wooden headboard, but neither mortal nor vampire noticed
this. Janos lay still for a moment his breath coming out harsh and grating in the
mortal’s ears. But his stillness did not last long and with an effort brought
himself up and began to move. Never taking his mouth from the mortal’s throat
for it was bliss.
Vorador
could not make any sound as the vampire continued, his throat where the vampire
remained latched onto him burned with a fire so hot he thought he would ignite.
Tendrils of that flame were moving through his body in electric shockwaves of
pleasure. The vampire’s bite was dangerously pleasurable and yet so painful
that tears welled in his tightly shut eyes. Janos’ quiet noises of pleasure
grew louder until his growls lost any sense of humanity becoming a low rumble
that would have terrified him if he’d not been racked with pleasure, yet still
the sound spoke to some deeper nature telling him he was in true danger. His
head span and he felt himself shuddering as one particular thrust hit that
place deep inside once again and forced pleasure so pure through him that it
had to be pain.
Janos
vaguely heard the mortal’s choked screams, as if from far away, and barely felt
the man tighten around him pushing him over that edge. There was a rage of
thunder in his ears as the fresh blood sang through him mixing with his orgasm,
pushing him higher than he ever remembered going before. His every vein pulsed
with pure energy, one which he had not felt in so long. It was as if God had
returned.
Slowly, the
vampire came to his senses. The room once again came into focus, and the
knowledge that the mortal was unmoving beneath him quickly snapped him into
consciousness.
"Vorador,"
he said, surprised by how thick his voice sounded and how out of breath he was.
The mortal
did not answer, but moaned so quietly Janos barely heard it. His neck wore two
small holes that slowly oozed droplets. Janos had seen enough death to
recognise it when it was in his bed. Cold washed through him so hard he felt he
had fallen into the frozen lake outside his home, and blood tears fell. This
one had trusted him, spoken with him, offered him peace and he had . . .
Killed him.
End chapter
Authoress note: Maw ha, ha, ha. Kind of a sad
ending . . . but not really cause we all know Vorador
is fine, or will be in a moment. It Janos’ fault really it is, I can’t write
happy endings for him he’s to easy to torment. Sorry.
Please review.