Chapter Text
He knew what he needed... and he knew, just as surely, that he wasn't likely to get it.
He didn't know his own limits, had never tested them before, not like this. How long had it been since he'd been so inactive? So still...
He wasn't a full vampire, not even half. Only a slight vampire, really, practically human. He could go quite a long time without blood. Years, perhaps. But he would weaken. If he had any hope of escaping from here...
Then, one night, he sensed it. Her presence. At first, he wasn't sure -- his mind could be playing tricks on him. It wouldn't be the first time.
But as she came closer, he knew. His master had found him.
She didn't come through the door. He didn't quite know how she'd gotten into the tower, into his prison, but there she was. Her voice, at least.
He lay on his back, eyes closed. He'd gotten in the habit of staying like that, because if he did it for long enough, the pain would almost fade. His mind would drift, and at first, when he heard her voice, it seemed to be just a memory, an echo from deep within his mind.
But when she called to him again, something made him choose to open his eyes. After all, if she weren't there, then that would mean he was alone, and it wouldn't make a difference.
He blinked. He showed no reaction, even once he was sure that it was really her, that she really was there.
"You don't seem surprised to see me."
"Am I surprised?" he said. He felt as if he hadn't heard his own voice in years, though he knew that wasn't true. "Hm. I suppose I am. Surprised." He raised a hand, looked up at his own fingers, barely visible in the moonlight that came through that little box of a window. He didn't look at her. Ashamed of his appearance, of how far his beauty had deteriorated? No, that wasn't it...
She approached. She could see in the darkness better than he could, he knew. He didn't move. How had she gotten in here?
She gently wrapped her hand around his, and pressed something into his grasp. A bottle. Blood, it must be.
He smiled slightly, despite himself. "You came all the way here to feed me?" But he was grateful. It was what he needed most, after all.
"Not exactly," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
At that, he sat up... and, just as suddenly, realized he was being foolish. She couldn't mean that. Not from one so powerful as she was, and never to someone who had been so defeated, as he had.
Again, she smiled. "What did you think I meant?"
A slight raise of eyebrows was his only response. He didn't look at her.
"And what if you were right?"
His breath caught, his heart quickened when he heard that, despite himself. "You wouldn't," he said. He nudged the seal on the bottle with one finger. It would be impolite to drink it so soon, he knew.
"I don't want to lose you. Not like this."
"I don't see how I can be of any use to you now." Not unless you take me back with you, however you got in. His pride demanded that he escape by his own power, but even so, the thought did occur to him.
"Your mind can still be of use to me, and not just to me," she said. He took deep breaths, letting the words sink in.
He didn't respond. He had known of her power, almost as long as he had known her. He had known that she could share it, that she could transform humans into something near to what she was. That what she had given him already was only the slightest fragment -- but that she rarely offered more. Only four times in the four centuries she claimed to have lived, had she...
"Here. Tonight," she said. "Now."
He took deep breaths, tried not to react, though inside, his thoughts and feelings spun wildly. As grand as he'd believed himself to be, he'd never imagined, never considered that such a gift...
What would it mean? It would mean giving up his earthly pursuits — or what was left of them — and taking on, what?
It would mean damnation, if he still believed in such a thing.
It would mean immortality, or as close as there could be.
"Do you accept?"
Waiting was the hardest part.
Over the past few months, Angelo had kept busy, kept working on something, for someone. Returned to Florence, left again. We shouldn’t see each other, Miguel had told him. It could attract attention. Attention they didn’t need.
But now, there was nothing to do. He was in between projects. Nothing to distract him.
What were they to do? What would— what could possibly happen, except—
Trust him.
That was what Miguel had told him, every time they’d met since they last parted from their lord.
And Angelo did trust him. If there were anyone who could turn this around, it was him, but... but...
Taking a walk outside didn't help. Drinking only made it worse. Reading, drawing, sleeping, nothing could take his mind off of those worries.
It was that kind of a night, a night of straining his eyes to read by candlelight, but he couldn't focus, couldn't--
"Angelo."
His breath caught. That voice...
No -- it must have been his imagination. He tried to resist turning to look, knew he would find nothing but his empty room, knew it couldn’t be…
“Angel.”
The voice was too soft, too kind, too pure to be his lord's, not anymore. Angelo knew that. After all that had happened, all he'd done... his voice hadn't sounded like that for years. And yet, the sound of that voice, that soft breath, and that tone of pure love underneath it... that voice took hold of Angelo's heart, and despite himself, he turned.
Immediately, he stood from his chair, almost knocking it to the floor behind him.
H-how...
He took a step forward, his body moving of its own accord, his mind struggling to understand, but desperately wanting to believe.
His lord, his Cesare, stood there, lovely as ever, head held high. He wore his usual black silk clothes, only slightly tattered. His beard was gone, his scars were gone, his smile was gentle and serene, like it had been all those years ago.
It had been so long...
He held out his hand as Angelo came closer, and slowly, Angelo reached for him.
He seemed to glow in the moonlight.
Was he a spirit? A vision?
Their hands met. He was solid. Warm.
Before he knew what he was doing, without pausing to think, Angelo pulled his lord closer, into his arms, and hugged him. Cesare laughed softly as he returned the embrace, cuddling into Angelo's shoulder. Angelo felt the tears begin to run down his cheeks as he held his beloved duke, kissed his hair, so soft, ran his fingers through those soft, dark curls. He gently placed his hand on his lord's cheek, pulled back just enough, and let their lips meet.
It had been so long since they'd kissed so passionately, so freely. The last few times they'd met, even when they'd parted, everything had been absorbed in other concerns. Anticipations. Preparations. Battle plans. When this is over... that had been what was under the surface every time they'd met, hadn't it? A sentiment they had never voiced, all too aware that nothing was promised to them.
And was it now? Was it over?
How was he here? What next? Angelo knew it was something they had to discuss, and that the answers couldn't be good. But for now... as long as possible...
The sound of his breathing, the feeling of their bodies pressed close together... Angelo wanted to let this moment last as long as it possibly could. He ran his fingers through Cesare's hair, gently stroked the back of his neck... and felt something there. A scar?
Cesare inhaled sharply, and Angelo pulled his hand away.
"I-I'm sorry-- does it... does it hurt?"
"N-no, it's..." Cesare took a deep breath, then stepped back, taking Angelo's hands in his. Their eyes met, and something in his fixed gaze sent a chill through Angelo's body.
"Angelo," he said. His voice was firm, yet Angelo, who knew him so well, could hear something else in it... was he nervous?
"My lord?"
There was something that Cesare was afraid to tell him. That, he understood, but what? "I-I don't know how you escaped, or how you healed yourself, but... but whatever it is, I-- I... I will still always be yours. Whatever it is, it can't change my devotion. Please..." He looked down at his lord's hands in his, those lovely, elegant hands... he knelt, and kissed them.
"Angelo," Cesare said again. He caressed Angelo's face, stroked his hair, bidding him to stand. He did so.
Cesare looked into Angelo's eyes again, and spoke directly. "Would you come with me even if it meant giving up your humanity?"
Angelo heard the words, let them run through his mind, tried to find the surprise, the shock, the fear, that he knew he should feel... and couldn't.
"Of course I will," he said, and he meant it. "I... I would follow you anywhere."
"I'm serious. I'm not human anymore..." He shook his head, worried that Angelo didn't understand. "I'm... I've become a creature of the night. I'm almost a demon--"
"You're beautiful," Angelo said, still calm. "Whatever you are, you're still you. You're still..." his voice trailed off, as he stroked Cesare's hair, his other hand on his lord's waist, pulling him closer.
Cesare looked away, and Angelo knew he was trying to hide his smile, trying to hide how much he wanted Angelo to agree to this. To let Angelo make his own decision. "If... if you come with me, I want you to know what you're getting into... what you're giving up. You'll have to drink human blood to survive. You won't... you won't be able to go out in the sunlight. We can see well enough in the dark, but even so..."
Angelo listened, let it sink in. To live forever in the darkness, to not know the sun... But he smiled. It wouldn't be nearly as much of a sacrifice for him as it must have been for his lord. "If you can live with that, then to be with you... I don't mind."
"Then you agree to it?" Cesare said, and smiled, letting Angelo see this time.
"Yes... yes!" Angelo said. He pulled his lord closer, and kissed his forehead.
Cesare cuddled into his shoulder. "Angelo... my sweet..." Angelo felt him running a finger around a spot on the back of his neck, and suddenly, he realized it was the same place that Cesare himself had had a mysterious new scar. Almost as soon as the thought occurred to him, he felt a sharp pain there. He cried out, but Cesare held him closer. "Relax, my sweet..." he said. He kissed Angelo's neck, and rubbed his back with his other hand, trying to soothe him.
It hurt -- even more so as he tried to figure out what Cesare had used to cut him. He hadn't been holding a blade, or at least, Angelo hadn't noticed one. It -- it couldn't have been his fingernails, could it? A creature of the night... a moment later, Angelo felt something else touching him -- Cesare's fingers, he realized. He felt a sharp sensation moving through his body from that spot on his neck, as if Cesare were holding something there, giving him his power through that wound. But what... then, it occurred to Angelo. His own blood? Was he... were they sharing their blood with each other?
As the sensation continued through his body, the world around him began to grow hazy, to fade...
There was still lots to get through, and Miguel knew he needed to focus, but... perhaps it was something in the air. The memory of that night wouldn't leave his mind.
That night, years ago...
The battle had been fierce, and afterwards, Cesare had sent everyone else away. He and Miguel were alone together, sitting in a low ledge in a deserted, isolated small building not far from where the fighting had been.
Something was wrong, but Miguel didn't know what. Cesare stumbled, shook, as if he hadn't eaten, but Miguel knew he had. Had he overexerted himself? He wasn't usually like this. Miguel was determined to give him anything he needed, if only he could figure out what that was.
He tried to talk, to ask questions, make him focus, but Cesare only nodded, silently, staring at Miguel's arm... at Miguel's wound. Yes, that did need to be taken care of, but it could wait. His duke took priority.
Until suddenly, almost before Miguel realized what was happening, Cesare had taken his hand, kissed his wrist, gently, moved his mouth down to the wound, and...
It took Miguel a moment to realize he was stopping there, and another moment to realize what he was doing. Drinking.
Drinking my blood...
And it seemed to satisfy him. As he drank, Miguel could see his strength returning. Eventually, he pulled away, satisfied... then, with a start, he blinked, realizing what he had done, that he had exposed his secret. He looked up at Miguel, looked into his eyes, afraid.
Miguel gave him a gentle smile.
"Is that where all that strength of yours comes from?"
Why do you look so embarrassed? Do you really think I'd care?
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. It hadn't been his imagination, then. Cesare had been secretive, as if he'd been hiding something even from him, for about a year now.
"I gave up my humanity," Cesare said simply.
Miguel ruffled his hair, pulled him closer, held him. "You're still you. This doesn't change anything, and I mean that."
And it hadn't. In the years since then, he'd given Cesare blood when he'd needed it, which wasn't as often as he'd thought. He could go for a long time without any, as long as he didn't exert himself. But now... in that castle, in his prison, what could he get? Would the very thing that gave him such strength now become his downfall? Worrying wouldn't do anything for him, Miguel knew that, but still...
Miguel.
The echo of a memory in his mind almost made him smile. Even after such a long time apart, Cesare's voice was still so clear in his mind--
Miguel, can you hear me?
He looked around. Where... It couldn't be him. It...
Come. This way.
He should ignore the voice, he knew that, knew it must be his imagination, his mind playing tricks on him, yet--
A creature of the night, stronger than any human, who drank the blood of humans to survive... if he could see and accept that, then...
He followed the voice, out the door of the room where he'd been working, down a long corridor, up a flight of stairs, and out onto the roof.
At first, nothing seemed amiss. Then, he saw -- a single figure, standing on the highest point of a roof a few buildings away from him. Miguel recognized him instantly.
Before he could react, Cesare leapt into the air, higher than any human could. He landed just in front of Miguel, and stumbled a bit. Miguel caught him, held him.
Cesare laughed. "I still need to work on landing."
"Could you always do that?"
Cesare shook his head. "This is new."
"You escaped by giving up even more of your humanity, I take it?"
You're here... you're safe... Miguel tried to stay calm, tried not to show how great his relief was, but all he wanted to do was hold him, cry together, make love to him.
"And if I asked you to join me--"
"Do you think you even need to ask?" Miguel brought his fingers under his lord's chin, tilted his face up, and kissed him.
The newly blooded trio joined the 16 other vampires and some 40 or 50 human followers in the isolated castle from which their master ruled. Her clan extended further than that, and had links with similar courts all around the world -- some of the castle's residents were from those other clans. Of the previous four princes of her direct blood, two were in residence. The other two would return for the festivities to welcome their new companions.
Angelo had woken up in a soft bed, surrounded by people he'd never met before, but they were kind. New faces from all over the world, new voices speaking in new languages he didn't understand, styles of clothing unlike anything he'd ever seen before, in new surroundings... it all would have been dizzying enough without his newly enhanced senses and strength. But that disorientation was something the others in the castle were familiar with, something that they had all gone through, and they helped him adjust. What's more, he'd been blooded by their newest prince, who they were all excited to hear about in advance of his arrival.
Just like what had happened to Cesare, Angelo's body seemed to have shed some 10 years, and his injuries and illnesses were healed. Beyond that, the transformation had also caused his hair to grow, just past his shoulders. Automatically, he'd thought to cut it, but the others wouldn't hear of it.
They insisted on dressing him up, to receive his two lovers in grand style. It was something Angelo had never gotten used to over the years, though at times, Cesare had tried. Quite often, Miguel would flat out refuse, even when he really did want it, and Angelo would give in, letting Cesare dress him in fine clothes and jewelry. His discomfort with it came less from any dislike of it in concept, and more from fear of adding another angle to the gossip and condemnations that already surrounded his Cesare. And... well. Fear that he might enjoy it too much. There must be limits on ostentation, mustn't there? Especially in his position...
But here, there were no such concerns. He let the others show him entire rooms of the most beautiful clothes beyond his wildest imaginations. And the things they did to decorate their bodies, painting all sorts of designs on their skin, enameling their nails in bright colors, extending their eyelashes... Angelo found it all a wonder to look at, but when they offered to style him, the thought just made him feel embarrassed. Eventually, he allowed himself to be decorated, just a bit.
When Cesare and Miguel reached the castle, everyone gathered outside in the moonlight to welcome them. Angelo stepped forward, so transformed that it took the other two a moment to recognize him. He wore lapis blue robes with gold embroidery, and golden bracelets on his wrists. His hair was pulled back away from his forehead, and he wore a thin gold circlet with a blue stone in the center.
When he reached Cesare, he knelt, kissing his hands. He stood, and they looked into each others' eyes, and finally, in front of everyone, they kissed. When they parted, Miguel came behind Cesare, and put a hand on each of their shoulders. Angelo leaned over to him and kissed him as well.
It would be a strange experience, to go from the fear of imminent death to having centuries, a near eternity of life, stretched out in front of them; To go from being at the center of a convoluted web of power and intrigue, to being new and insignificant faces in the calmer, more cooperative world of shadows. They would all find it difficult, impossible, to cut ties completely with the world they came from, with the people and projects they'd left behind. And of course, they wouldn't cut ties completely. Certain friends -- and yes, certain enemies -- might receive a visit late at night from time to time, from someone they'd believed to be dead -- and their deaths would have to be arranged, proofs given so that no one would try to look for them.
They would travel the world. Vampires were stronger than humans, and faster. They could run in one night a distance that would take weeks for humans, or horses. Traveling the world, seeing everything, and seeing how small their human interests had really been, was a first step for new vampires. After that...