Fic: The Wailing Wind
Jun. 26th, 2006 09:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frahulettaesIn the Porcelain and Bittersweet 'Verse.
You didn't think Orlando was just gonna lay back and let Viggo have his way with Elijah, did you?
No, of course not.
NC-17
Various pairings
Lotrips
Seriously AU.
fra
2006 Summer
"VIGGO!" Orlando was screaming. Had been screaming for nearly two hours. Why he wasn't hoarse, Billy would never know. That fucker had a set of lungs for such a quiet guy.
"ELIJAH!" Orlando bellowed. "VIGGO! NOOOO!" There was a dull thud as Orlando threw himself against the solid wooden door, his nails scratching. They must be bloodied by now.
Billy turned the page, the crinkle of newsprint hopelessly small in the face of Orlando's furious noise. He poured more tea and began reading the sports page, content to let Orlando scream himself out.
It was perhaps an hour later, Billy noticed there hadn't been screaming for a few minutes.
He looked at the cellar door, its small window of blackness an eye to the dark abyss of the houses basement.
He cocked his head, listening. He could just hear the soft rasp of Orlando's tortured breathing, the brush of his fingers against the wood.
"Billy, please. Please let me out. Billy," Orlando whispered, barely a breath of sound.
"Billy, Will, William, please. Please."
Billy could smell him now. The scent of Orlando's blood, his sweat, drifted like ambrosia from under the cellar door igniting Billy's hunger. It was near time for him to disappear, to feed again. He would control it now. He always had. But the smell made him hard and hungry.
He rose, tea in hand, and went to the door, the intoxicating blend of smells drawing him to where Orlando rested against the wood and stone.
He pressed his hand against the wood where he knew Orlando's head would be. Knew it like he knew the moon was waxing dangerously and that soon, too soon, he would not be able to fight it.
"Soon, Orlando. Soon." He murmured. And meant many things.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next night, the moon's fat belly low over the skyline, Billy sat guard at the door again. His chair rested on two legs, the top spindles leant against the cellar door as he read the Economist and listened to Orlando's breathing.
Orlando had not moved even during the daylight hours. He'd curled into a ball, shoulder in the corner and head on his knees as he waited, slept, woke and waited. Billy stayed with him. Quietly reading or simply sitting vigil through Orlando's suffering.
At one point, Viggo had drifted silently through the kitchen, had stopped and met Billy's guarded gaze, impassive. Eyes dark and hard. After a moment, he went on, faded into the black mouth of the dining room door.
Near dawn, he gently lowered his chair and dug in his pocket for his cell phone, punched speed dial and a number and waited, standing back to the door.
After a moment, there was a click and a gruff hello followed by some throat clearing.
"It's time, Eric." Billy said and flipped the phone closed.
~~~~~~~~~~
A mere ten minutes later the sky was turning rose-gold when there was a heavy pounding on the kitchen door. Billy could feel Orlando start and stand, fingers hooked through the rough iron bars of the doors small window. The nails of Orlando's hand were cracked and broken, or had been for they seemed nearly healed, the rough cake of blood the last remnants of his injury.
When Billy opened the door, it's space was filled with broad dark shoulders and a long wooly coat. Perhaps too heavy for this time of year but descretion was key. Billy had chosen Eric for that. And for his strength.
Billy was swept into the giant's embrace and they rubbed nose to nose and cheek to cheek, inhaling each other's scent and humming softly. Before Eric set Billy down he cupped the back of Billy's head and drew him in for a deep kiss. He was growling when they drew apart, Eric's hands clutching Billy's ass and cupping the back of his neck.
"Easy, boy. We've a problem to attend to." Billy pushed ineffectually at Eric's arms, demanding to be let go.
"Not yet, Bill," Eric hummed and kissed Billy again, rubbing the whole of his body on Billy, for all the world looking as though he were marking territory. "You smell like Viggo." he grumbled.
"I do 'not', bugger. I smell like me." He cuffed Eric affectionately and Eric reluctantly set him back on his feet.
"That's not what your skin says." Eric smiled down, infuriatingly smug. "So where's your little vamp, Billy?" He walked toward the cellar door, Orlando's fingers and scent drawing him in and he licked his lips, tasting the air.
"So. Here you are, bloodkyn. Ready to come out?" Eric caressed the door, listening for Orlando's reactions. Billy could hear Orlando's breath speeding. It was near dawn, there was little time for any sort of shenanigans. This had to go smoothly or they'd loose Orlando. Or Elijah, or both, god help them.
Behind them, steps sounded on the stair and Viggo entered the kitchen, Elijah cradled in his arms, spent and sweaty, barely conscious, his clothes, what were left of them, in stripped rags.
Orlando's hand clutched suddenly at the bars and he screamed. "ELIJAH!"
Billy looked at Eric, who looked back and him. "On the count of three. One." Billy set his hand on the knob. "Two." Eric rested his fingers on the ancient iron key. "Three" Eric threw the bolt and Billy turned the knob and together they drew the door open. Orlando's frantic form wiggled and pushed wildly through the slowly opening door but he was not fast enough.
Eric's arms swept around him and Billy completed the form by circling his arms around Orlando from behind. Between them, they were just able to keep Orlando from springing at Viggo.
"Elijah! Please, let me go. Let. Me. Go. Damn you." Orlando, still immensely strong even after two days behind the cellar door and no food, fought with every part of his being.
Viggo stood, watching. "Let him go, Billy, Eric."
Eric and Billy looked at each other and Eric shrugged, dropping his arms away.
Orlando was on Viggo in a flash, murmuring low and anxious, touching Elijah everywhere, assuring himself of Elijah's breath and warmth. He dragged Elijah out of Viggo's arms and drew the small body close, hugging the narrow shoulders and gently resting the tousled head under his chin.
"He's fine, Orlando." Viggo said, low and raspy.
Orlando's response was to bare his fangs, upper and lower, hissing quietly, dangerously. A moment later they were gone down the steps to the crypt.
"That went well." Billy said, brushing his hands on his upper thighs. "Tea anyone?"
Eric snorted a laugh and nodded. Billy put the kettle on. Viggo stood looking into the inky blackness of the open crypt door thinking that the time was coming when Orlando would need a shorter chain. A very much shorter chain.
~~~~~~~~
Below, in the inky blackness of the crypt, Orlando laid Elijah gently on their bed. Already the heavy weight of dawn was dragging his awareness down and he bitterly resented it, wanting more than anything to stay awake and tend to Elijah. He tenderly stripped what was left of Elijah's clothes away and brought water and a clothe, wiping the worst of the sweat and come from his inert body.
Then, barely awake, he climbed between the covers and drew Elijah's body into the hollow of his own, eyes drifting irresistably closed. He slept.
~~~~~~~~
"The moon is full." Eric rumbled, his breath stirring the curled hairs on the back of Billy's neck. Billy shivered.
"I know." Billy said and clasped Eric's larger hand against his belly. Eric barely moved, his cock gently surging and drawing from Billy with lazy ecstacy. "Mmmmm, god, yer good 'a that." Billy murmured and arched his back, drawing Eric deeper inside him.
"I know." Eric whispered and set his teeth to Billy's neck.
~~~~~~~
Viggo watched the day dawn for as long as he could. Hampstead Heathe was green as ever and the rose of morning light made the colors shimer and deepen.
What to do with his wayward vamp?
He'd have to think of something.
But not now. Now the leaves rippled in the wind and the bells from the little church tolled the morning call to prayer.
He closed his eyes and breathed in the day.
You didn't think Orlando was just gonna lay back and let Viggo have his way with Elijah, did you?
No, of course not.
NC-17
Various pairings
Lotrips
Seriously AU.
fra
2006 Summer
"VIGGO!" Orlando was screaming. Had been screaming for nearly two hours. Why he wasn't hoarse, Billy would never know. That fucker had a set of lungs for such a quiet guy.
"ELIJAH!" Orlando bellowed. "VIGGO! NOOOO!" There was a dull thud as Orlando threw himself against the solid wooden door, his nails scratching. They must be bloodied by now.
Billy turned the page, the crinkle of newsprint hopelessly small in the face of Orlando's furious noise. He poured more tea and began reading the sports page, content to let Orlando scream himself out.
It was perhaps an hour later, Billy noticed there hadn't been screaming for a few minutes.
He looked at the cellar door, its small window of blackness an eye to the dark abyss of the houses basement.
He cocked his head, listening. He could just hear the soft rasp of Orlando's tortured breathing, the brush of his fingers against the wood.
"Billy, please. Please let me out. Billy," Orlando whispered, barely a breath of sound.
"Billy, Will, William, please. Please."
Billy could smell him now. The scent of Orlando's blood, his sweat, drifted like ambrosia from under the cellar door igniting Billy's hunger. It was near time for him to disappear, to feed again. He would control it now. He always had. But the smell made him hard and hungry.
He rose, tea in hand, and went to the door, the intoxicating blend of smells drawing him to where Orlando rested against the wood and stone.
He pressed his hand against the wood where he knew Orlando's head would be. Knew it like he knew the moon was waxing dangerously and that soon, too soon, he would not be able to fight it.
"Soon, Orlando. Soon." He murmured. And meant many things.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next night, the moon's fat belly low over the skyline, Billy sat guard at the door again. His chair rested on two legs, the top spindles leant against the cellar door as he read the Economist and listened to Orlando's breathing.
Orlando had not moved even during the daylight hours. He'd curled into a ball, shoulder in the corner and head on his knees as he waited, slept, woke and waited. Billy stayed with him. Quietly reading or simply sitting vigil through Orlando's suffering.
At one point, Viggo had drifted silently through the kitchen, had stopped and met Billy's guarded gaze, impassive. Eyes dark and hard. After a moment, he went on, faded into the black mouth of the dining room door.
Near dawn, he gently lowered his chair and dug in his pocket for his cell phone, punched speed dial and a number and waited, standing back to the door.
After a moment, there was a click and a gruff hello followed by some throat clearing.
"It's time, Eric." Billy said and flipped the phone closed.
~~~~~~~~~~
A mere ten minutes later the sky was turning rose-gold when there was a heavy pounding on the kitchen door. Billy could feel Orlando start and stand, fingers hooked through the rough iron bars of the doors small window. The nails of Orlando's hand were cracked and broken, or had been for they seemed nearly healed, the rough cake of blood the last remnants of his injury.
When Billy opened the door, it's space was filled with broad dark shoulders and a long wooly coat. Perhaps too heavy for this time of year but descretion was key. Billy had chosen Eric for that. And for his strength.
Billy was swept into the giant's embrace and they rubbed nose to nose and cheek to cheek, inhaling each other's scent and humming softly. Before Eric set Billy down he cupped the back of Billy's head and drew him in for a deep kiss. He was growling when they drew apart, Eric's hands clutching Billy's ass and cupping the back of his neck.
"Easy, boy. We've a problem to attend to." Billy pushed ineffectually at Eric's arms, demanding to be let go.
"Not yet, Bill," Eric hummed and kissed Billy again, rubbing the whole of his body on Billy, for all the world looking as though he were marking territory. "You smell like Viggo." he grumbled.
"I do 'not', bugger. I smell like me." He cuffed Eric affectionately and Eric reluctantly set him back on his feet.
"That's not what your skin says." Eric smiled down, infuriatingly smug. "So where's your little vamp, Billy?" He walked toward the cellar door, Orlando's fingers and scent drawing him in and he licked his lips, tasting the air.
"So. Here you are, bloodkyn. Ready to come out?" Eric caressed the door, listening for Orlando's reactions. Billy could hear Orlando's breath speeding. It was near dawn, there was little time for any sort of shenanigans. This had to go smoothly or they'd loose Orlando. Or Elijah, or both, god help them.
Behind them, steps sounded on the stair and Viggo entered the kitchen, Elijah cradled in his arms, spent and sweaty, barely conscious, his clothes, what were left of them, in stripped rags.
Orlando's hand clutched suddenly at the bars and he screamed. "ELIJAH!"
Billy looked at Eric, who looked back and him. "On the count of three. One." Billy set his hand on the knob. "Two." Eric rested his fingers on the ancient iron key. "Three" Eric threw the bolt and Billy turned the knob and together they drew the door open. Orlando's frantic form wiggled and pushed wildly through the slowly opening door but he was not fast enough.
Eric's arms swept around him and Billy completed the form by circling his arms around Orlando from behind. Between them, they were just able to keep Orlando from springing at Viggo.
"Elijah! Please, let me go. Let. Me. Go. Damn you." Orlando, still immensely strong even after two days behind the cellar door and no food, fought with every part of his being.
Viggo stood, watching. "Let him go, Billy, Eric."
Eric and Billy looked at each other and Eric shrugged, dropping his arms away.
Orlando was on Viggo in a flash, murmuring low and anxious, touching Elijah everywhere, assuring himself of Elijah's breath and warmth. He dragged Elijah out of Viggo's arms and drew the small body close, hugging the narrow shoulders and gently resting the tousled head under his chin.
"He's fine, Orlando." Viggo said, low and raspy.
Orlando's response was to bare his fangs, upper and lower, hissing quietly, dangerously. A moment later they were gone down the steps to the crypt.
"That went well." Billy said, brushing his hands on his upper thighs. "Tea anyone?"
Eric snorted a laugh and nodded. Billy put the kettle on. Viggo stood looking into the inky blackness of the open crypt door thinking that the time was coming when Orlando would need a shorter chain. A very much shorter chain.
~~~~~~~~
Below, in the inky blackness of the crypt, Orlando laid Elijah gently on their bed. Already the heavy weight of dawn was dragging his awareness down and he bitterly resented it, wanting more than anything to stay awake and tend to Elijah. He tenderly stripped what was left of Elijah's clothes away and brought water and a clothe, wiping the worst of the sweat and come from his inert body.
Then, barely awake, he climbed between the covers and drew Elijah's body into the hollow of his own, eyes drifting irresistably closed. He slept.
~~~~~~~~
"The moon is full." Eric rumbled, his breath stirring the curled hairs on the back of Billy's neck. Billy shivered.
"I know." Billy said and clasped Eric's larger hand against his belly. Eric barely moved, his cock gently surging and drawing from Billy with lazy ecstacy. "Mmmmm, god, yer good 'a that." Billy murmured and arched his back, drawing Eric deeper inside him.
"I know." Eric whispered and set his teeth to Billy's neck.
~~~~~~~
Viggo watched the day dawn for as long as he could. Hampstead Heathe was green as ever and the rose of morning light made the colors shimer and deepen.
What to do with his wayward vamp?
He'd have to think of something.
But not now. Now the leaves rippled in the wind and the bells from the little church tolled the morning call to prayer.
He closed his eyes and breathed in the day.
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