Disclaimers: Not making any money from this, don’t even own them… damn, somebody get me a Sei-chan!
More shounen-ai, implied yaoi, weirdness, character mangling. Warning for… err… how do I put this? You’ll never look at CardCaptor Sakura the same way again! (Well, not literally Sakura herself.)
Set in the same AU as “Before Dawn”, not so Daryoon/Narsus-centric.
This one’s for RB, call it an early birthday present… for the praise for the first part I wrote and general fic encouragement… Thanks and many happy returns!
“Ah.” Said Hisui, not breaking his contemplation of the lit fireplace.
“Is that it?!” Edd said forcefully, not really daring to scream at the elder Lasombra.
“Well, yes.”
“He’s refusing to attend clan council! Refusing to even speak to Daryoon!”
“Did you really expect him to do otherwise?” Hisui leaned back in the armchair, turning to smile slightly at the younger, ranting vampire.
Edd blinked.
“Besides, it’s not as if Daryoon is going to attend either.”
Edd frowned at Hisui’s knowing look, deciding to phone Daryoon as he bowed out of the room.
Hisui smiled at the brief memory. The situation had resolved itself as he had suggested it would. How it had been resolved was still unknown but as far as he could tell, Daryoon was in a better state than before. Hisui no longer caught the ring of steel against steel or the scent of blood when he tried to listen to Daryoon’s thoughts, in fact he was currently babbling about the mercy of heaven, as far as Hisui could tell. Which could mean that he’d lost it, again…
Searching Narsus’ mind was equally unenlightening. While Narsus might have manic depression’s answer to fuel-injection, the fact that he’d gone from suicidal to… to something Hisui couldn’t really put into words, it made him think of ‘usagis’ and flowers. It didn’t worry Hisui too much, Narsus had probably found some new piece of artwork to go cross-eyed over.
Smiling to himself Hisui made his way along the dark alleyway, steps quickening as a light splattering of rain began to fall. An almost hidden door opened from inside to reveal a tall Japanese youth with a towel draped over his arms.
“Hisui-sama” the youth bowed respectfully. Hisui stepped into the small hallway and let his coat slide from his shoulders onto the floor. “Toyua.” Hisui beckoned with a finger, beginning to descend the steps that lead to his underground sleeping chamber, ignoring the other youth who bent to retrieve his coat.
Sitting on the low bed Hisui let Toyua un-braid his hair and begin to dry it with the towel. Such an obedient boy, Hisui mussed. Toyua must have been only 17 when Hisui had taken him… now he would retain his youth for all eternity. He glanced up when Fumma entered the room, settling himself on the floor and resting his head in Hisui’s lap. Hisui stroked the soft hair, his gaze possessive. He’d almost had to fight Seishiro for this one…
Almost dawn and he’d still received no work from the Tszimisce but it could wait surely… Daryoon generally went crazy every so many centuries so it wasn’t anything new and Narsus… Hisui frowned, causing both youths to pause and look at him in surprise.
“It’s nothing, my darlings.” He said, soothing them. A light touch on Toyua’s cheek, gently stroking along Fumma’s jaw but both regarded him intently.
“Is there someone who must die?” Fumma enquired mildly, hiding his eagerness to carry out such an order.
“Seishiro… perhaps.” Hisui laughed at their shocked looks.
“To anger clan Tszimisce such…” Toyua murmured.
“No, my darlings. I wouldn’t want to rid myself of such a charming…” Hisui paused, what was Seishiro to him, opponent, comrade?
“No.” He continued “Toyua, you have contacts among the Tszimisce…” he left the command unfinished.
“As you wish, Hisui-sama.”
The two younger Lasombra closed the door behind them, leaving Hisui to his rest.
“Better watch yourself, Toyua. He might not look all that pretty any more.” Fumma gloated, maniacal smile plastered across his face.
“Jealous?”
“Of what? Some twisted Tszimisce that you used to fu-“
Toyua grabbed Fumma’s shirt, dragging him close, till their faces almost touched.
“Or maybe you want revenge for you little sister.” Toyua arched an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You do know that Yuki was the one that decided to ‘slice and dice’ her.” He said, shoving Fumma back into the wall. Fumma’s mouth fell open, then he began to laugh. “Maybe I should get to know Yukito better.”
“Only after I’m finished.”
“And what makes you think that you get to play Seme?”
Toyua didn’t get a chance to answer as Fumma twisted his arm and slammed him against the opposite wall, pressing up behind him.
“Aww, poor Fu-chan, not getting any?” he managed to spit out.
“But I though you liked it rough, To-ya.” Fumma answered.
Toyua gasped as Fumma twisted his arm further, close to wrenching it out of the socket.
“I was thinking…” Fumma said conversationally, lips brushing against Toyua’s ear “what you’d look like in your school uniform.”
“Pervert!” Toyua shot back, managing to shove himself away from the wall and breaking free from Fumma’s grasp. He started to walk away. Fumma remained where he was, then Toyua half-turned, casting a glance over his shoulder.
“You’re going to have to help me look for it then.” He said.
“Huh?”
“My school uniform.”
A large, old house somewhere in Bedfordshire…
“He’s doing it again.”
“Uh huh.” Seishiro didn’t look up from the newspaper he was reading.
“Don’t you mind?”
“Not really.”
“Not even in the slightest?”
“He’s young, let him play.”
There was silence, broken by yet another far off scream. If either of the Tszimisce had bothered to listen closely they would have heard accompanying laughter. Not the maniacal, dark laughter usually attributed to the fiends but the high-pitched, delighted laughter of a youth on the verge of maturity. It didn’t make Yukito any less frightening though.
“He’ll get bored of it eventually.” Seishiro said, more to calm his companion than anything else.
“Bored?! He does this all night, every night! I swear if you don’t stop him then I will!”
“That might be entertaining to watch.”
“Seishiro…” pleading now.
“It really wouldn’t be fair if I made him stop, he’d get terribly upset if I spoil his game. He’s very good, you know.”
“I know, I know! But doesn’t it ever annoy you? The constant caterwauling, surely the novelty should have worn off!”
“It probably will, eventually…”
Seishiro ignored the angry glare he received and instead concentrated on studying his companion. Tall, slender, graceful, soft black hair falling in a spidery fashion over cold eyes, glasses perched on the thin nose… not that he needed glasses any more…
Brown eyes met the gaze of Seishiro’s single seeing eye, the distance between them closing and Seishiro drank in the site of the younger Tszimisce straddling him.
“You won’t do anything about it then.” It was a rather rhetorical question.
“No.”
“Bastard.” A pause “I hate you.”
The response was a hard kiss, rough and bruising. Parting, lips stained with blood, Bradley Crawford kept his eyes closed, resting his forehead against Seishiro’s. He didn’t need to see to acknowledge it, Seishiro’s self-satisfied smile.
Narsus lay on the sofa, hands behind his head, idly looking around Daryoon’s apartment. It was rather nice actually. Daryoon was checking the steel shutters that would keep out the light during the day. Narsus watched him. Daryoon finished with the shutters and came back over to sit on the couch, regarding Narsus questioningly.
“There’s nothing so silly as a naked man in socks apparently.” Narsus said smiling.
“I’m not wearing socks.”
“Exactly! And now I’ve convinced that you in Union Jack boxers is the silliest thing I’ve ever seen!” He giggled.
Daryoon looked appalled. “These were a present from Mephisto!”
“And what was she doing giving you underwear?” Narsus’ tone was suddenly severe.
“Uhh… nothing.”
“Don’t you nothing me! What did that red-headed wench think she was doing?!”
“Wench? Since when did you use the term ‘wench’?”
Now it was Narsus’ turn to look embarrassed. “Warwick’s fault. He used to laugh at me for regarding them all as ‘ladies’ and I guess I just picked it up from him.”
“Warwick?”
“He’s long dead now, still, his legacy lives on. Lancaster never got the throne back.”
“You mean Richard, Earl of Warwick?!”
“Yes. He was such a sweet man. Used to get terrible insomnia though so we’d end up spending most of the night talking.”
“You… and Warwick?!”
“Yes, me and Warwick. Talking.” Narsus stressed the last word.
“But he had that mistress…”
“Eh? What mistress?”
“That one who used to turn up and somehow get past the guards and… and…”
“And?”
“That was… Oh, my God! That was you!”
“Not that I know of.”
“But it must have been!”
Narsus carefully took hold of Daryoon’s hands. “Now, Daryoon, we’re vampires so we don’t really tend to –“
Daryoon didn’t appear to be listening “You were that little bitch that I kept trying to set traps for!”
“Traps?” Narsus asked, tone accusing.
“Err.” Daryoon looked nervous. “Well, you see…”
“You were that stinking guard captain that kept trying to have me thrown in the dungeons?!”
“I though you were some harlot!”
“You what?!”
“No, I mean I didn’t think-“
“I got chased round the central keep by half a dozen of your men, plus hounds AND A PRIEST just because you thought I was some sort of tart!”
“Err… Well… Yes… I’m sorry, I love you!” Daryoon said the last bit in a rush, holding onto Narsus’ hands tightly.
“I suppose I should be thankful that you didn’t think I was an assassin!” Narsus began to laugh.
“I guess it was a bit of an extreme reaction.” Daryoon smiled.
A pause, then Narsus simply reached out and pulled Daryoon back down onto the couch with him. Daryoon settled comfortably, head resting on Narsus’ chest, the slender artist’s fingers threading through his hair. He closed his eyes, at peace for the first time in many centuries.
“I love you too, my Black Knight.” Narsus whispered and Daryoon, just on the edge of consciousness, smiled as sleep claimed him.
Daryoon woke from a very strange and extended dream. He’d dreamt that Narsus was alive and loved him… wouldn’t that be wonderful if it was true. He opened his eyes and sat up on the couch slowly, now why were his clothes all over the floor? He looked round confused, there appeared to be too many articles of clothing on the floor. Hmm, nice suit but it wasn’t his. Daryoon listened, he could hear someone on the phone in the next room, bits of conversation filtered through.
“No. I’m afraid he’s a bit tied up at the moment.” Followed by hysterical laughter.
Daryoon got up, he hadn’t been dreaming, again he silently thanked the heavens.
He strode into the bedroom where Narsus was on his mobile and catching him from behind, removed the phone from his grasp.
“Ack. Daryoon what-“
The train of protest was cut off by a rough, passionate kiss. The phone forgotten Narsus let Daryoon push him down onto the bed. He was utterly distracted until the cold bite of metal around his wrists and a sudden immobility signalled that he’d been handcuffed to the bed. Narsus tried his best disapproving look, Daryoon’s answer was a teasing grin as he reached over to retrieve the phone.
“I’m sorry but Narsus can’t talk right now.”
“Daryoon, you maniac!”
There was a dark chuckle at the other end of the line. Daryoon hung up and silenced Narsus’ string of expletives with a rather conveniently placed gag. Daryoon sat back and surveyed his handiwork, smiling a very evil smile. “Don’t worry, I promise things will get a lot more interesting.” And Narsus could only stare, eyes wide as they proceeded to do so.
Bedfordshire
Seishiro put down the phone. Well, that explained where Narsus was. The Tszimisce smiled slightly, that was also the explanation he’d suspected. There had been too many similarities between Narsus’ lost lord and the Lasombra knight. Seishiro had suspected but didn’t dare interfere just in case he was wrong, in case he was wrong and Hisui decided to exact vengeance on his latest fledgling. And there they were, Yukito and Brad burst into the room both looking furious.
“Seishiro!” Brad practically barked.
“Seishiro-san.” Yukito wined.
Both glared at each other.
“He killed her!” Yukito looked up at Seishiro with tearful eyes.
Seishiro put an arm round the strickened youth.
“Bradley.”
“It’s not as if I didn’t warn you. I said I’d kill her if he didn’t shut her up!”
“But I wanted to kill her. She was mine… she looked just like Akizuki…” Yukito sniffed miserably.
“We’ll find you another.” Seishiro said soothingly, waiting for the protest that he knew would follow.
“No!” Brad was furious.
“Yes.” Seishiro stated firmly, then turning his attention to Yukito, “You can go look for a replacement now, if you like.”
Yukito beamed up at him, the bright, sunny smile that had so endeared him to everyone while he’d still been mortal. He practically skipped out of the room.
“Psycho.” Brad muttered under his breath.
Yukito peered about him, certain he’d heard someone else in the woods. He’d decided to look for yet another victim in the woods not far from the grand house that they currently inhabited. Sometimes the pupils from one of the private schools took a short cut through these woods in the early evening. Sometimes Yukito just liked to watch them, remembering his past in Tokyo, other times, particularly if any one of them looked like Akizuki, he’d find other entertainments. Of course, the real Akizuki was already dead. Toyua had broken her neck, he’d never liked her much but Yukito got a particular joy from torturing look-alikes. Stupid Akizuki, she’d though she could steal Toyua from him… she. Yukito pondered if he really should be calling her a ‘she’, after all Akizuki had just been a rather accomplished transvestite. He’d wondered if he should be torturing boys and dressing them up as girls but that wasn’t as much fun, they never had long enough hair. He liked setting fire to their hair, Brad didn’t, he said that it smelt.
There was another sound, not far behind him. Yukito slowed his pace, wondering if he might find an unintentional victim. He turned, smiling his usual smile and Toyua stepped onto the path in front of him.
“Hello, To-ya!”
“Yuki.”
Toyua stepped forward and hugged Yukito, lifting the smaller boy of the ground in the process.
“You didn’t say that you were coming to visit.”
“Hisui-sama sent me. He wants to know what’s happened to Narsus.”
“Oh, Seishiro called him earlier today. Everything’s OK.” Yukito smiled up at his friend. Toyua felt himself relax, at least that was something he didn’t have to worry about.
“What are you doing out here?” Toyua asked.
“Hunting. I had one to play with but then Brad killed her and that was no fun.” Yukito pouted prettily.
“Yuki?”
“Hmm?”
“Can we get one that looks like that brat Shoulan instead?”
“Sure, To-ya!” and Toyua was treated to another one of those beaming smiles. They set of further into the woods, holding hands.
Back at the house
Seishiro peered at the chessboard in front of him before gracefully reaching out to moving a piece, declaring checkmate. Brad shot him a look that could only be described as sulky.
“Now, now, don’t sulk just because I let little Yukito have his way.”
“You always let him have his way.”
Seishiro raised an eyebrow.
“It’s always ‘poor little Yukito’, don’t pick on him, don’t upset him, don’t play with his torturing equipment.”
Seishiro remained silent.
“And the girls he gets, they always look the same and he insists on calling them Akizuki!”
“Do you know why?” Seishiro’s voice calm and level broke the small tirade.
“Why?”
“Akizuki Nakuru was a girl at his high school. She tried to take Toyua from him.”
Brad’s eyes were huge, his mouth a silent ‘oh’ of realisation, then “But why didn’t he just kill the real one.”
“She’s already dead. One of the first things Toyua did was kill her. In fact you should ask Toyua about it. He has a thing for killing boys who look like a certain Chinese brat.”
“What did…”
“What did the brat do? He tried to take Yukito from Toyua.”
Brad began to laugh “What a thing to be hung up on, for all these years!”
Seishiro looked at him evenly “So we’re to discount your perchance for the torture of German red-heads?”
“That’s different!”
“Why?”
Brad ignored the question, now looking away. Seishiro got up and moved to stand in front of him. “Tell me why you like it.” He said bending over the other man.
“I like to watch them scream.” Came the reply as he pulled Seishiro down on top of him.
China Town, Manchester
After the second ring Fumma picked up the phone, his greeting an impolite “What?”, expecting Toyua on the other end.
“I’d like to speak to your Master, boy.” Came the unmistakeably cold tone of a pissed of sounding Narsus.
Fumma swallowed nervously “Err, sorry… I though it was someone else… Hisui-sama, I’ll let him know.” Fumma had to fight the urge to run up the stairs to find Hisui. Narsus might not be Lasombra but he was very dangerous, especially when angry. Then Fumma remembered, apparently the clan were trying to pair him up with that crackpot Daryoon. Actually, he thought, they might make a good couple, Daryoon liked to kill things and Narsus liked to watch them die.
Hisui picked up the phone and apologised for Fumma’s uncivilised greeting. Fumma cringed, he heard Narsus’ laughter down the line.
“I just though I’d let you know that even your grand orchestrations can fail.”
“Oh?” Hisui enquired amicability.
“I wasn’t in Birmingham.”
“I know.”
“I was in London with someone else.” Narsus’ tone wasn’t arrogant or boasting, just stating the facts. It made Hisui smile.
“Not Cyrus’ successor then?” Mild laughter in Hisui’s voice.
“That maniac! Goodness, no!”
“Apparently, he’s quite an accomplished lover.” Hisui added conversationally.
“He’s crazy!”
There was murmuring in the background. “Do tell Daryoon that I said ‘hello’ and I’ll expect to hear from you both later.”
“Hisui?”
“Yes?”
“I might not… that is, I was thinking that I might…” Narsus sounded so unaccountably nervous.
“Might not return to the Camarilla?” Hisui finished for him.
“How did you know?”
“Call it feminine intuition.”
Narsus began to laugh “Thank you, Hisui-sama.”
“I will speak with you soon, young one.” Hisui put down the phone and much to Fumma’s amazement, doubled over in hysterics. Fumma approached hesitantly.
“Hisui-sama?”
Hisui wiped tears from his eyes and reached out a delicate hand, which Fumma immediately took to lead Hisui to the sofa.
“Hisui-sama, what - ?”
“Ah, darling one, even I couldn’t have predicted this!”
Fumma looked confused.
“Narsus is seemingly quite taken with this new lover, or perhaps I should say old lover.”
Fumma only looked more confused.
“His lost lord, the very same man that he has spent centuries longing for is none other than our very own Daryoon!”
“Daryoon?! But he’s crazy!”
“Exactly, he’s that particular maniac that Narsus has spent centuries avoiding! Oh, this is too funny!” Hisui fell sideways in another fit of hysterics. Fumma eyed him speculatively, unimpressed by the almost crazed laughter, still, Hisui-sama was utterly lovely to behold, even if he was laughing like an idiot.
Maida Vale
Narsus put down the phone, still smiling, “Feminine intuition!” he muttered with a small laugh.
“What’s that?” Daryoon asked, slipping his arms around Narsus from behind.
“Nothing. Just Hisui still suggesting that I might like a particular maniac.”
“Huh?” Daryoon nuzzled into his love’s hair.
Narsus sighed softly, leaning back into that touch “You might know him, that crackpot Cyrus’ sired.”
Daryoon stopped what he was doing.
“Daryoon?” Narsus turned his head to regard Daryoon.
“Narsus, umm, there’s something you should know…”
“If there’s any one else they’re as good as dead!”
Daryoon smiled before he dipped his head for a quick kiss. “How exactly would you define a crackpot?”
Narsus looked puzzled “Crazed, out of control, evil, brutal?” he shrugged.
“The sort of man who’d simply ravish you?”
“I guess.”
“Who’d handcuff you to his bed and have you?”
“Daryoon…” Narsus was noticeably breathless.
“Cyrus doesn’t have any other fledglings.” Daryoon breathed, biting hard into the soft flesh of Narsus’ shoulder. Narsus let out a small cry as blood trickled from the wound.
Later
Narsus lay exhausted beside him. Daryoon looked down in wonder at the varied bite marks and bruises on the pale skin. Surely such violence was more suited to the Tszimisce but then, Narsus had spent many years with them, perhaps it was an acquired taste?
China Town
Hisui lifted his head lazily from Seishiro’s thigh. He squinted about the room from his position on the floor. Then he felt fingers thread through his hair and turned his gaze to the now waking Seishiro. Seishiro simply looked at him, from his position slumped back in the chair. A scream shattered the silence and both vampires exchanged knowing smiles.
“Perhaps this visit hasn’t been a waste for my apprentice then.” Seishiro was relatively smug about the fact, as usual.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful Fumma’s scream is.” Was Hisui’s contemplative reply.
“… and you say he’s still got his school uniform.” Brad enquired of the naked youth beside him. Fumma grinned evilly.
Bedfordshire
Toyua carried the sleeping Yukito to bed. Laying him down gently against the sheets he noticed the faint flecks of blood still that stained Yukito lips. Toyua grinned evilly.
As the night began it’s dieing phase over the land, the fiends slept and humanity stirred. Going about their business they would never know that their time was measured, their lives falling under the shadow of the Sabbat.
Tired now.
I guess it’s different, not your usual cross-over piece…
Technical note: Usagi means bunny in Japanese, they’re God’s messengers in “Wish”, and Seishiro and Co. appear to be living in Luton Hoo, which I’m sure has been converted into fancy offices now.
Akizuki chasses after Toyua in the second story arc of
CardCaptor Sakura, Shoulan always has a thing for Yukito, and Schuldich seems to spend a vast amount of
time with mini-Sei-chan… I mean Bradley.
Staring: Daryoon & Narsus – Arslan Senki
Seishiro Sakurazuka – Tokyo Babylon & X
Bradley Crawford – Weiss Kreuz
Fumma Monou – X
Hisui – Wish
Toyua Kiminoto & Yukito Tsukushiro – CardCaptor Sakura
With Edd, Cyrus & Mephisto (all original).
- Narsus (30/11/01) 1.40am