Date: Sat, 8 Aug 1998 19:35:13 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (1/12) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu This is the third story in my Dream sequence, though hopefully it should stand on its own. The first two ('Perchance to Dream', and 'What Dreams May Come') are available at if you would like to read them. If you don't have web access, I can email them on request - they are rated Adult, so please include an age statement. This story is rated Adult for sexual content. Please don't read it if your local laws say that you shouldn't. The characters depicted herein are the property of James Parriott, Paragon, Sony/Tristar, and the other PTB. I'm just taking them out for a little excursion. I promise to bring them home not much the worse for wear, and to tuck them up nice & snug with a goblet of bloodwine & a good CD on the stereo (preferably Enigma 'MCMXC a.D.'). I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! Permission granted to archive at www.fkfanfic.com. Anyone else, please ask first. All other rights reserved. Many, many thanks to Sheila, without whose kind words, frequent prodding & insightful beta-advice this would probably never have been finished. ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 1/12) by Amie LaRouche July 1998 Natalie sat quietly on the leather sofa in Nick's loft, paying little attention to the discussion going on beside her. Her companions' voices formed a pleasant background to her musings. She was still inclined to be distracted by her new-found senses, staring into the fire for hours on end, astonished by how clearly she could see the variations in temperature. Her rational mind (when it was in ascendancy) wondered at the change which had widened her spectrum of vision into the infrared and ultraviolet. "Natalie." LaCroix' voice was patient, with a hint of amusement. The ancient vampire seemed to smile more frequently of late, and more honestly. She hoped she wasn't being too silly, spending too much time being fascinated by her new world... "Natalie!" She turned to regard him with surprise, a bit abashed. "Yes? What? Oh, I'm sorry Lucien, I got distracted again." LaCroix replied, "And very endearingly, if I may say so." What would have been condescension to anyone else turned to indulgent fondness when he spoke to his granddaughter. "I said, since we really must leave this city, do you have any suggestions? We don't have to settle anywhere in particular, of course. At least not at first. But it would be useful to have some ideas in mind. What are your thoughts?" The fledgeling sat a moment more, entranced by the fire, then determinedly shook off the fascination, as a dog shakes water from its coat. "My thoughts? I don't know... No, I do know." She sat up straighter, looking directly at her companions. "I want to go to Europe. I want to see... I want to *feel* where you two came from. I know everything's different now, but... You know my world. You have the advantage of centuries of perspective on it. In a sense you both probably know more about me than I know about myself." She turned to look at Nick, silently asking for his understanding. "I know you've told me stories about your past, and they're fascinating. But before I always sort of thought - 'how amazing, I have these friends who are these mythical creatures.' It was all so far away. Now, I think I need to try to believe in eternity, *really* believe, if I'm going to adjust to all this. I need to tread the ground, walk where you've walked... Maybe hear some more stories?" she grinned impishly at the vampires who sat studying her, digesting her words. "If I'm going to hang out with you two for the next few millennia, I'll have to connect more with your history. Does that make any sense?" Her companions were troubled, Nicholas rather more than his sire. It was one thing to tell this child stories here, cosily ensconced before the fire, removed from the too-strong reminders of the reality of the tales. It would be quite another to do so where they had no protective walls of time and distance to keep the shades of the past from crowding too close. Infallible memories could be a heavy burden at times. However, if this was what Natalie felt she needed - even if it was only her desire, with no need in the case - they would not gainsay her. Nick glanced at his father, then back to his daughter. "If that is your wish, ma fille. We will tell you tales until you tire of them. Did you have any particular destination in mind?" She hesitated a moment, unsure whether it would be wise to continue with her request. She looked shyly at Nick. he asked with expression and mind. She responded, finally. "Monsieur de Brabant... I want to see your home." She smiled wistfully. "I suppose the castle's a ruin, but somehow I really want to see where you grew up." ********************** There were arrangements to be made, of course. Natalie went whirlwind-like through her apartment, choosing only a few things to be put into storage, and fewer still to take with her - only the irreplaceable items, the memories she could not bear to give up. All the rest was to be disposed of. LaCroix approved of this willingness to release the ties to her past, and encouraged her ruthless weeding-out of belongings. Nick, on the other hand, would gladly have stored every item, small or large. They were precious to him simply because they were Natalie's. In a few short days, all was done, even to arranging for her cat, Sydney, to remain with the friends who had been looking after him. She would have liked to find a way to keep him with her, but dragging a pet around the world could only be cruelty. Better that he have a stable family. Their sudden departure was explained easily enough. Most of their friends developed distinctly dewy-eyed looks at the news that Nick and Nat had finally come to their senses. There were a few raised eyebrows as plans for an extended European vacation were mentioned, but nothing that couldn't be overcome by breezy smiles, hints of an inheritance, and the occasional well- placed hypnotic suggestion. Natalie worried a bit about the travel arrangements, at first. How could vampires travel safely across such distances? When she broached the subject with Nick, however, he just chuckled and said it was taken care of, so she left it entirely in his hands. She had enough to do. Besides, she was still in the first few months of her new life. Her young senses were sharp and distracting, and her appetites unpredictable, taking much of her concentration to control. If her companions were willing to deal with the mundane matters, she would simply be grateful and leave them to it. In the end, she was favourably surprised at how easy it all was - when you knew the right people - and how comfortably one could travel in a private jet. The hotels were awfully nice, too. When Nick explained about the trust fund he and LaCroix had set up for her through the 'de Brabant Foundation', she was touched and reassured. Being immortal and poor seemed like no fun at all, and she had been a little bit worried. When he told her the amount they had invested on her behalf, he was slightly disappointed by her silence, until he realised that she was trying reassemble her scattered wits. And she was fascinated by the new credit cards he handed her. She had never realised that platinum was such a pretty colour. ********************** ********************** Contrary to Natalie's assumption, Nicholas' original home was anything but a ruin. He chose not to enlighten her on this point just yet, however. The chateau had been derelict before Nick acquired it at the end of the nineteenth century. Sometimes it pleased him to do such things simply because he could. He threw himself into the restoration effort, taking joy in erasing the passage of centuries from the beloved buildings. Janette had laughed at him, indulgently. She, who in her mortal life had no ties which she wished to remember, found his desire for such relics puzzling, if rather endearing. So she teased him for his foolish fondness while a tiny, secret envy of its cause burned at her heart. They never spoke of it, but her brother sensed her quiet sadness. Nicolas was particularly kind and attentive, for a while, before he pushed her away once again. LaCroix scolded him for wasting his energies on renewing such mortal bonds. Naturally, this only encouraged Nick to carry out his plans. Somehow he could not help showing his worst side to his master - especially when even he had to admit that the old Roman was arguing on the side of reason. Still, the chateau was his by right. It truly pained him to see it ruined, the rooms where he played as a child open to the elements, the gardens rank with weeds. For the first few years, LaCroix came by frequently, trying to persuade or coerce Nicholas into abandoning his toy. In reality, this ritualised tormenting of his favourite child was largely a pretext. If he was honest with himself - which he tried to avoid - it pleased him to see his son so engrossed. Nicholas was still attempting to deny his nature, refusing to hunt and rejecting the intimacy natural to their kind. However, his fascination with the project had distracted him from his all-encompassing guilt, and it seemed for a short while that even his foolish quest for mortality had been abandoned. The restoration progressed, and the visits became fewer and less prolonged. Nick would never have admitted it, but this saddened him. In spite of their habitual antagonism, he often found his sire's presence comforting. It was a comfort which he sorely missed at times. As the chateau came to life once more, so did the memories... Memories of his childhood - simple and confusing, harsh and happy - the privileged and restricted life of a young nobleman, heir to a great demesne. Of leaving his home for the first time, in knightly service to his lord and his Church; and again, sent to the Holy Land in penance for another man's crime, his beloved murdered for clinging to her pagan beliefs. Of his return from the Crusade years later, tired, disillusioned - and already a vampire, already damned. And always, everywhere, the memories of his sister. His sister, his 'petite Fleur', the pretty child who had blossomed seemingly overnight into a beautiful, wise, innocent woman. He knew, though he did not like to consider it, that his master began to stay away for exactly the same reason. LaCroix' lost love made his visits sweet torture, the memories too intensely bitter to be borne, yet too precious to be abandoned utterly. Imagine, if you will, the square stone keep and high-walled bailey of a twelfth-century fortified castle. Many of the structural changes made during its centuries of habitation have been carefully reversed, leaving the basic forms of the buildings much as they were when Nicolas de Brabant was a child. Careful restoration, touched lightly with Victorian medievalism, has produced a result which is refined, utterly beautiful, and gently tinged with whimsy. Neo-gothic carved stone archways complement ornate stained glass windows. The finest of furniture, antique and contemporary, graces the rooms. Medieval and renaissance artworks mingle comfortably with Pre- Raphaelite paintings and tapestries from William Morris' workshop. A few uncommon features have been added - some of them quite recently - to cater for the unusual needs of the owner. The rich velvet drapes conceal lightproof shutters, which close automatically on timers. The wine cellar is stocked with rare vintages, along with more ordinary wines for guests. Concealed spotlights in the garden allow the stained glass to be admired from within the chateau at night. The very few, very loyal, and very well-paid staff have remarkably little tendency to speculate or gossip about their employer's odd habits. A little careful hypnosis can do wonders for personnel management. After the restoration was completed, Nicholas seldom lived at the chateau for more than a few months at a time. Instead, this consciously romanticised site became a repository for art and mementos, a sanctuary, and a precious point of stability in an uncertain world. ********************** >From her first sight of the chateau, Natalie was utterly enchanted. Silhouetted against the night sky, it seemed to her that it was a mirage, floating impossibly above the surrounding sea of forest. She wandered in rapture from room to exquisite room, her mind reeling. (A small, quiet, everyday corner of her mind was awed as it considered the sheer cost of the castle and its furnishings.) Her companions trailed behind her, the two venerable immortals grinning like schoolboys at her response. "And this is your bedroom," Nick, said, opening yet another door. A little surprised, she asked, "*My* bedroom?" as she stepped into the large room, decorated in tones of ivory, gold, and midnight-blue. A huge bed, with a canopy and curtains of blue-and-gold brocade, dominated the area. Several doors opened off the main room. "Well," Nick explained a bit defensively, "I thought you might like your own place... sometimes. And it does join onto mine. Through here, see?" He led her through one of the doors into an equally grand bedroom. It was almost identical, save that here claret-red was the dominant colour. Natalie was nearly speechless. It was simply too much to take in all at once. "Oh! It's... it's lovely, Nick! I never would have thought..." she trailed off, not wanting to offend him. "Never would have thought...? What, Nat?" he asked unnecessarily, hiding a smile. He knew full well what she was trying to avoid saying. "Well, the loft was so functional. Nice, but very plain. I guess I just didn't expect such... hedonism!" "Hedonism? Hmmm... I hadn't considered it quite that way." Nick grinned to himself, taking his daughter's arm and steering her to another door. "You should like the bathroom. It's a good place for thinking." Natalie was dismayed by the sheer expanse of the room, almost as large as the bedrooms from which it opened. Her eyes grew quite round as she took in the cupboards and shelves filled with salts and oils and bubbles, the candle-sconces around the walls, and the piles of soft towels. Almost reverently, she crept toward the huge round spa-bath, trailing her fingers along its edge. "Oh, Nick!" she breathed, turning to him, her face shining with delight. "This isn't just hedonism - this is pure decadence!" ********************** (end part 1/12) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 1998 19:35:13 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (2/12) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimers, etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 2/12) by Amie LaRouche After a few more hours of exploration, many questions, and much laughter, Nicholas and Natalie said good-night - or good-day, to be more accurate - to their Roman companion. Nat kissed LaCroix on the cheek, saying softly, "Sleep well, Lucien." Utterly happy herself, she noticed neither the quickly suppressed spasm of jealousy which crossed Nick's face, nor the quiet heartache in her grandfather's voice as he replied simply, "And you, mon ange." Natalie walked slowly, dreamily up the wide stairs, admiring the paintings which lined it. "Nick?" "Yes, Nat?" "You know that bathtub...?" "I do. Would Her Ladyship like an attendant at her bath?" "Ooh! Now, that sounds nice... Will you scrub my back?" "As my Lady wishes. Will there be anything else?" Nat smiled wickedly. "I'm sure I can think of something to keep you busy, my love..." As Nick filled the bath, and lit candles around the room, Natalie searched the shelves for the right scent. She was quite bewildered by the range of possibilities. Every sort of bath additive she had ever heard of was here, along with a few she hadn't. And the range of scents! Everything from vanilla salts and lavender oil to bubble-gum bubble bath. "Nick, it would take me a hundred years to try all of these!" He turned and regarded her, bemused. "And that's a problem?" She blinked, at a loss for words. Somehow that aspect really hadn't quite sunk in yet. Shaking her head, Nat went back to scanning the shelves. She had picked up a bottle of rose-scented bubble bath, and was considering its merits, when Nick took it from her hand. "Sorry, no bubbles tonight." Laughing archly, she demanded, "And precisely why not? It's my bath, isn't it? You're just the attendant, if I recall the offer correctly." Assuming a serious expression, Nick bowed humbly. "You are quite right, most gracious Lady. However, if I may take the liberty of bringing one small but important point to Your Ladyship's attention..." He paused until she nodded, regally. "Bubble bath tastes disgusting." "Good point. Very good point. Is that based on personal experience?" She lifted her hands quickly, warding off any potential answer. "Wait, no, on second thought, I don't want to know. However, I think you've just volunteered to choose for me. Something more to your taste." A few minutes later, Natalie slipped into the steaming water, sinking onto the moulded seat which circled interior of the tub. Relaxing into the soothing embrace of the water, she breathed deeply of its patchouli-scented warmth. She reflected gratefully on the fact that, while she no longer suffered from excessive heat or cold as she had when she was mortal, a nice hot bath was still the ultimate luxury. Raising her head, she looked around for Nick. He was sitting primly in a chair beside her, still fully clothed. With a languid smile, she asked, "What are you doing over there?" He replied formally, "I am waiting to wash my Lady's back, when she is so inclined." "Oh. Well... that's good. Very proper, I'm sure." She thought for a moment - this wasn't quite what she'd had in mind. "Won't your clothes get wet?" "I expect so. They'll dry." "Hmm. Well, I think I'd like you to wash more than my back... and I'm sure that would be easier if you were in here with me. Minus the clothes." "As you wish, Your Ladyship." Nick undressed slowly, carefully folding each garment before adding it to the pile on the chair. Natalie watched his movements with sybaritic appreciation, and a growing arousal. She never tired of the sight of him, his body that of a man trained to arms, muscles smooth and tight from hard use. Years in the saddle did good things for the view from the rear, as well. Bless Janette, with her fine eye for a well-formed knight! And bless Lucien too, for bringing him across. Lucien. The image of her ancient guardian appeared in her mind, an incubus tempting her to desire... A Roman statue, a warrior-god, his ivory skin glowing in the flickering candlelight, softened by the billowing steam... A vision rose unbidden of Lucien and Nicholas, intimately embraced in such a bath - an intricate, delicate, alabaster sculpture of two men lovingly entwined. She shut her eyes tight, trying to master the wave of mixed sorrow and longing which washed over her. If only... No, there was no point thinking of that - not now, not here. Nick sensed his protegee's shifting thoughts with concern, particularly when he realised their subject. Natalie did not yet have the skill to shut him out of her mind. Usually, he kept politely away from her inner thoughts, but sudden, strong emotional changes could not help drawing his attention. Opening her eyes, Nat saw her lover hesitating beside the bathtub, regarding her quizzically. She forced a smile, which quickly became real as she focused her thoughts on the present. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get in, O Back-Scrubber Extraordinaire!" "As you wish, my Lady." He climbed into the already-full tub, displacing a considerable amount of water over the sides. Nat gasped in dismay, turning to stare at the huge puddles on the floor. Nick chuckled at her response. "It's okay, Nat. Don't worry about it." "But it's like Noah's Flood out there!" Condescendingly, Nick explained, "Drains, Natalie. They're useful things. Save an awful lot of trouble." Her eyes narrowed, and she fought not to giggle. "Nicholas B. Knight! You set that up - just so you could laugh at me! I will have my revenge!" Drawing on skills honed in many summers' worth of water fights, she drenched him completely with a single massive splash. After that, things got silly for a while. There was much splashing, and assorted threats and counter-threats. After reaching the point of 'revenge to the tenth degree', they finally agreed to stop counting. Not retaliating, just counting. Nat never did get her back scrubbed. But she did get it tickled, and licked - and even nibbled on a bit. "Hmmm, I could get used to this..." Natalie was sitting sideways on Nick's lap, leaning back against the side of the tub. Strong, gentle hands stroked her body, from her throat to the tips of her toes and back again. His silken wet skin glided across hers, little caressing ripples following his hands as they flowed through the water. Looking down, the movement of the water and the flickering candles made it impossible to distinguish his body from her own. Relaxing into the encompassing embrace of the scented water, wrapped in the warmth and comfort of their bond, Nat felt herself floating not in water but in pure love. Nick's mouth on hers was soft and luscious as a ripe peach... She growled in protest as he broke their kiss, sighing with pleasure as he nibbled a path down her throat, lingering to suck gently at the pulse point below her jaw. The sharp tips of his fangs pressed lightly, teasingly against the sensitive flesh. He covered her neck with the lightest of kisses, lips barely brushing the skin. She tried to sit up, intent on returning the pleasure he gave her. Nick pressed her back. He raised his head, regarding her with soft, amber eyes. "No, my Lady," he insisted gently, his voice dark and enveloping as a summer night, "Be still." She shook her head, infinitessimally. "Nick..." "Be still, ma fille." An echo, a caressing hint of his father's tone of easy command, that tone which invariably roused such a storm of ambivalence in her. But tonight, just for tonight... Natalie surrendered completely, letting his delicately sure touch move her, guide her as he wished. Nick kissed and caressed intricate patterns down, ever down her tender skin. She jumped slightly as she felt his fangs prick her nipple, their link becoming a shadow deeper, a whisper more intense, as he suckled gently, savouring her pleasure and desire... His hands were firm and certain, moulding her yielding body. She reached down, stroking his golden hair, his broad shoulders... His small, perfect nipples hardened under her touch, little sparks of his lust igniting within her... He looked up, his eyes bright gold, hazy with his need for her. With gentle menace, he growled, "I said, be still..." He captured her hands in his, guiding them behind her back, holding both of her wrists behind her lightly, inescapably. His other hand continued its explorations, kneading her soft, full breasts... Kissing her ripe, demanding mouth, his tongue a welcome invader... She bit his lip, revelling in the few precious drops of his honeyed blood, overwhelmed by his hunger for her love, her blood, her body... Still holding her prisoned arms, his lips and hand glided across her shivering, aching flesh, alternating gentle strokes with sharp nips, the taste of her nearly sending him beyond reason... her desire urging him to take her, to bury himself within her... yearning to be encased within her tight, slick wetness, to taste her heart's blood in his mouth, her passion in his soul... To share in her moan of sudden bliss, her shiver of pleasure as they joined... To lose himself forever in her love... Her nerves burned with the cold fire of longing, sensual tremors echoing within their bond... No boundaries between the lovers, sensations multiplied and mirrored endlessly... A sinuous dance of limbs entwining, stroking, parting, touching irresistibly, unceasingly... Kisses ending, separating only to begin again... His hands stroking the delicate folds of her centre, sliding slowly in and out, her breath coming in short gasps...Her whimper of loss as his teasing fingers left her bereft... an aching void filled by the white-cold shock of bliss as he entered her, freeing the fragrant river of her blood. Once again, she fell under the dark enchantment of his musky, cinnamon-sweet essence... The ecstasy of sliding gently, kindly into welcoming flesh, the overwhelming pleasure/pain of feeding, grateful victim and beloved tormenter... The blissful melding of minds, of flesh, of essence... An endless spiral of sensation, its peak far beyond mortal endurance... The feather-light freefall of return, the precious, endless melancholy of parting... slowly, regretfully receding into not-quite separateness... Still damp from their bath, they slept entwined in the canopied bed, untroubled by dreams. Below, LaCroix sat alone in a high-backed armchair before the fire. He felt every moment, every nuance of his children's love, both minds linked fully with his, his desire fuelling their passion... His head thrown back, eyes closed tightly, his expression mirroring the tempestuous sensations which flooded him, sweeping him into the torrent of their bliss... He was lost to himself, not-his teeth slipping into the veins of not-his wrist, tasting not his own dark blood but the combined fire-bright essence of Nicholas and Natalie, roses and cinnamon, honey and musk... The link slowly faded, ebbing from his consciousness. His face resumed its mask of composure. When his golden eyes had regained their icy hue, Lucien LaCroix might have been any quiet, calm gentleman sipping wine in his library... but for the single bloodtear marring the ivory perfection of his cheek. ********************** (end part 2/12) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 1998 19:35:12 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (3/12) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimers, etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 3/12) by Amie LaRouche Nick woke from troubled dreams to find Natalie, curled into a foetal ball beside him, whimpering in her sleep. He shook his head wearily, concerned for his protegee. She had been plagued by nightmares since that night in the loft when he had almost taken her life, when their minds first touched in the blood-bond. The impact of the images she saw in his mind that night - and since - had barely lessened in the intervening two months. Each time she tasted his blood, she shared his memories of hunting mortals, of taking their lives, absorbing their rich essence... These were experiences - the ecstasy and horror and guilt of killing - which Nick prayed that his daughter would never experience first-hand. Natalie had found herself unable to reconcile the conflicting emotions which assailed her. Her own reluctance to take a human life blended inextricably with her sire's guilt for the many lives which had been lost to sustain his own. And yet, within her mind lived the predator, the vampire itself whispering to her, urging her to act according to her nature, to hunt, to feed on the mortals who surrounded her. This was one of the factors which had persuaded her to seek relative solitude for the moment, until she had mastered these overpowering desires. That Nick, after nearly 800 years, still had difficulties caused her concern, but she was determined not to give in. Nicholas was only marginally aware, however, of the problem which most worried his daughter. This was the hunger which continued to assault her in waves, regardless of how well she fed. At times the bottled blood, even the finest bloodwine, repulsed her, as she was shaken by momentary waking- dreams, flashes of lust for fresh blood, hot and flowing and alive... She refused to speak to either of her companions about this inexplicable, shameful desire, and so she struggled with it quite alone. While she slept, the conflict which besieged her waking mind became a savage assault. In her dreams, she hunted and fed and killed, a vampire in more than name... In her dreams, as in her waking life, she strove desperately to control this monster she had fought to become. Dreaming, Natalie watched helplessly as she was taken over by her vampire- nature. The addictive adrenaline rush of hunting swept through her. She could only observe, horrified, as the woman who was her dream-self stalked her prey through dark streets, revelling in the victim's fear and rejoicing in her own illimitable power... She dreamed... Another time, another place... she hunted in another fashion, seducing the delicate sons and daughters of the nobility with her porcelain beauty and the compulsion of her voice. Their blood was rich and honeyed, delicately flavoured with rare wines, but their minds filled hers with darkness, tainted and embittered with corruption. She dreamed... One precious morsel she brought to her master, as an offering. She was a delicate creature, her cheeks glowing with excitement, dazzled by the pleasures of her coming-out ball. Gowned all in white, her golden ringlets framed the face of a china-doll. This perfect little maiden addressed herself shyly to Natalie's sire, whispering, "S'il vous plait, monsieur, Mademoiselle Natalie said you wished to speak to me?" He smiled languidly, pleased with the gift... The child fell readily under the vampire's spell, willingly proffering her soft, milk-white throat to his sharp teeth. As her reward, Natalie was permitted to taste of the pretty child's blood as he took her life. The ecstasy and terror of the girl's death flooded her soul... as intense as the passion she was to share with her master scant minutes later, giving herself up, a willing victim, to drown in the sapphire depths of his eyes, the crimson fire of his blood... Waking from this enchantment, she found herself suddenly alone, standing at the centre of an endless graveyard. Luminous crosses held her fixed in place, the dreadful symbol of death marching, in serried row upon row, to the far horizon... Shuddering, Natalie clawed her way to consciousness, holding tight to the thin silken cord of Nick's mind within her own, following its path until she broke through to the surface. Gasping, she clung to him for long moments, barely registering the hand gently stroking her hair, the voice crooning softly in a language she did not understand. Slowly, the shivering eased and her grip relaxed, as she gradually, without ever truly awakening, slipped back into slumber. Nick sighed as he watched the lines of tension ease from Natalie's delicate face. He settled himself to watch her as she slept, determined to protect her from the enemies within her mind, as he did from those in the world outside. He would watch over her today, and tomorrow, and thereafter. He would guard his precious daughter against harm, through all the days and nights of the world. ********************** ********************** Natalie discovered the conservatory a few nights after her arrival at the chateau. Entering the dim, humid warmth of the glasshouse, she felt transported to a tropical jungle. Ferns filled the room, their filigreed leaves shimmering in the bright moonlight. Scattered among the ferns were potted orange and lemon trees, the sharp, sweet scent of their flowers offering a contrast to the headier perfumes of stephanotis and jasmine, whose trailing stems arched across the room. The warm darkness relaxed Natalie, easing the tension of which she had hardly been aware. She seated herself in a wicker armchair, losing herself in the quiet of the night. For once, she was even able to truly appreciate the aromatic savour of the bloodwine she sipped. Vague images from the life of its source seeped through her consciousness... A young man, a student... flashes of his childhood, not long past... reading on the lawn, the sunlight warm on his back... An ordinary life. A life in the sun. She had regrets, but in the end... yes, it was worth the price. It was worth the price. If she could only rid herself of this shameful hunger. They found her there, lost in thought. She did not even notice their presence until the jasmine vine above her was shaken, showering her with blossoms. She looked up, startled... and up, and up... to see Nick hovering at the height of the ceiling, laughing. "Nick!" she exclaimed, grinning, "I thought you couldn't sneak up on me anymore! This isn't fair..." He floated down to stand beside his father, whom Natalie now noticed for the first time. "Well," Nick temporised, sitting in the chair beside hers, "It's a lot harder than it used to be." "But you were hardly paying proper attention to your surroundings," LaCroix added sternly. "It is important that you learn to be alert at all times, Natalie, even in apparently safe circumstances." LaCroix could not quite maintain his severity as his granddaughter pouted at him. She said, "Lucien, you can be *such* a killjoy. Where can I relax, if not here? No-one has any reason to hurt me, anyway, so why do I need to be on guard all the time?" "For practice, my dear," he replied patiently. "Because someday, you will need the skill. And if you don't learn it now, it will not be automatic when you have need of it." He pulled up another chair, to sit facing his companions. While she was irritated by LaCroix' scolding, Nat had to admit that the ancient vampire was right. This doubtless was the time to cultivate habits and skills which must sustain her in the unforeseeable future. If that was the case, however, perhaps she should bring up a subject which they had all been avoiding. "I guess you're right. I just keep assuming that I'm safe, and everything will always be like this. But realistically, I know it won't. Which is why," she said to her sire, "I want to talk to you about teaching me..." Nick responded warily, "Teaching you what, Nat?" "How to survive on my own, if I have to. I know neither of you is planning on disappearing on me, but just in case... I don't want to have to figure everything out for myself. Anything can happen, Nick, and it does. If I got separated from you somehow... It just worries me. I'd like to be better prepared." Nick had to concede the logic of Nat's request, but he was not entirely happy with the subject. Cautiously, he asked, "What, exactly, do you want to know?" "Who do I contact if I need records altered? Who is looking after that trust fund you set up for me? How on earth can a person just 'move on,' and disappear altogether? I know it can be done, but I really don't quite believe in it... All of that. All the details which make these lives of ours possible. I don't want to know it all immediately, but I do need to find out soon." Nick replied slowly, "That's reasonable. I guess it's... it's a good thing that you're interested. We'll go over all that in the next few days. What else?" Natalie hesitated. This was getting onto dangerous ground. She could feel Nick's tension, a coiled spring of fear within him as she approached topics he wished to avoid. It increased her own anxiety, so that she said more sharply than she had intended, "I want you to teach me to hunt... Not to kill!" she amended quickly, "Just to... to be able to hunt, if I have to." "No." Nick's answer was flat, unarguable. "Nick... at least hear my reasons!" "I know your reasons, Natalie. I know them all. And the answer is no. You'll have to learn someday, but not now, and not here. This is my sanctuary, and I will not have it defiled." Nick's face was closed, his jaw set stubbornly. Natalie began to protest, but he cut her off. "No, Nat. Don't argue. I said no, and I meant it. Ask me again in a few years." Angry at being dismissed in this way, Natalie turned to LaCroix for support. Surely he could make Nick see reason. "Lucien? I'm right, aren't I? Back me up on this!" LaCroix regarded her with a singular absence of expression. Perhaps the child had been indulged too much. She was beginning to be insubordinate. He said mildly, "I agree with you, my dear, in that I believe that Nicholas is wrong not to teach you to hunt at this point. However," his tone became sharper, "He is entirely within his rights, and both you and I will abide by his decision in this matter. He *is* your master, Natalie. By your own choice, if I may remind you. And you will obey him." Natalie felt as if she had been slapped, and slapped hard. It seemed to her that she had been betrayed, and she was infuriated by LaCroix' choice of words. "Master? *My master*? If he's my master, what am I, his slave?" She turned to snarl at Nick, eyes glinting with specks of gold. "I'm nobody's *slave*, Nick - if that's what you want, you're out of luck!" For once Nicholas was grateful for his father's insistence on vampire protocol. It had effectively turned Natalie's anger into another channel, and given him time to think of a compromise. He said soothingly, "Nat, it's not like that. Not for us. You're my... my apprentice, my protegee. My daughter. My lover. Master is an old word, and the language has changed. The culture has changed. But I *am* your teacher, and I'm responsible for keeping you safe. There are a lot of things, a lot of dangers you don't yet understand. And I don't think it would be appropriate, at this point, for you to learn to hunt. However, there are aspects which you should be practicing. Flying, for instance. You haven't flown much, and it takes work to become really accurate. Can you accept that, for now?" Natalie considered the offer. She was still furious at the whole situation, but flying lessons would at least be exercise, a chance to stretch her mind and body which were beginning to chafe at her relative inactivity. She nodded, not trusting her voice. Nick sighed in relief. "Thank you, Natalie. I really am not trying to make things unnecessarily hard for you. I just think this is for the best." she thought bitterly. She stood slowly, feeling suddenly very tired and alone. She said quietly, "I know, Nick. I understand. Goodnight." He watched her go, grieved to be at odds with his daughter. Turning, he met his master's eyes, for once soft and sad. LaCroix said nothing, but placed his hand gently on his son's shoulder for a moment before he, too departed. Nicholas was left alone. The night came in upon him, painted in shades of grey. ********************** (end part 3/12) Date: Sun, 9 Aug 1998 21:01:45 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (4/12) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimers, etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 4/12) by Amie LaRouche Imagine, if you will, the pleasure-grounds of the chateau. The high stone walls of the bailey enclose interconnected walled gardens, laid out in the form of an eight-spoked wheel. Sculptures peer from among the foliage, and fountains fill the night with their ever changing music. The air is dense with the perfume of pungent herbs and night-scented blossoms. And everywhere, tucked into every niche and corner, clambering over every wall, there grow roses. Buds and blossoms of crimson and scarlet, ivory, cerise, and saffron dance gently on the night breeze. All the vibrant, ethereal, abandoned colours of dawn and sunset are here, captured and made manifest. The hub of this wheel of gardens is formed by a massive boxwood hedge. Recesses in the hedge shelter wonderfully carved benches and chairs. These seats look out onto a formal rose garden, whose beds are arranged in concentric circles, segmented by cobblestone paths, and dotted here and there with rose-covered archways. At the centre of the formal garden lies a small, octagonal folly, almost hidden beneath a heavy blanket of white musk roses: an island of controlled chaos amid this perfect order. Its large stained-glass windows, their images of courtly love lit from within, cast vivid streaks of colour into the surrounding night. Within this small summer-house an earthly paradise has been created, a sybaritic dream of silk and velvet and satin, damask and brocade. Thick Persian rugs, their complex patterns woven in jewel-toned silks, cover the floor. Ornate candelabra line the walls, and richly figured vases overflow with blossoms, filling the air with their intoxicating fragrance. Piles of cushions and plump armchairs invite intimate, relaxed conversations. On this night, Natalie shunned the armchairs and the candlelit opulence of the room, in favour of the shadowed dimness of a window-seat. She sat in a corner, her feet tucked beneath her, pensively staring out into the moonlit garden. The sweetly piercing, melancholy tones of LaCroix' violin filled the room and her mind. As the last bars faded, she sighed softly. LaCroix set down his violin, a look of concern briefly shadowing his calm features. Crossing to the window and laying his hand on his grandchild's shoulder, the ancient vampire stood silent for a moment. He gazed longingly at her profile, resisting the urge to run his fingers lightly along the hollow under her jaw, to stroke the downy softness of her cheek... Curious, Nick looked up from his book, watching the pair at the window intently. A bitter, poisonous twinge of jealousy stirred within him. He tried to will it away, without success. LaCroix asked gently, "Are you are unhappy, my dear? You've said nothing all evening." Nat shook her head, "No, Lucien, I'm not unhappy. Just a bit bored, I guess. I feel like I've been on holiday as long as I can remember, and right now it seems to be stretching out in front of me forever. I know it's ungrateful of me, but I kind of miss having things which have to get done. There's something to be said for having a job." The ancient vampire lifted an eyebrow. So, Natalie shared his son's obsession with cluttering the endless vista of years with such intrusions. Most likely she would follow Nicholas' path of creating endless personae, filling her eternity with multiple careers and lives, trying to pretend that they were actually important, not merely a pastime like any other. "That is something you can consider at some time in the future. Now, it is necessary that you focus on learning the skills which will serve you in that future. One of those skills is precisely that of learning how to spend your time pleasantly. Think of it: what have you never had enough time to do? Books, travel, research - all lie before you if you wish to take them up. Do you have any musical training?" She shook her head. "No, not really. A few piano lessons when I was little, and a few years in school choirs, but it never really went anywhere." "How would you like to learn the violin? Given your dexterity, I expect that you could be competent in about a month. To become expert, however, would take several years of serious practice." He took in her sceptical expression. "It is quite true. You will still require practice to perfect your skills, but the fallible human memory is no longer a handicap. And music is a particularly fine pursuit for an immortal. It is a pastime and a companion, a solace and a voice for inexpressible feelings. May I teach you? It would please me to do so." Nat smiled. This was definitely an unexpected benefit of becoming a vampire. "Thank you, Lucien. I think I'd enjoy that... You know, I've never really had the luxury of spare time before. It's kind of a disturbing concept, but I suppose I'll get used to it, eventually." She paused, trying to make sense of her changeable feelings. "At some point in the future, I think I will want to go back into the world, try to find something worthwhile to do... But for now, I'm sure music lessons would be a good way to pass the time." "I am pleased that you think so. We will begin in the next few days. It really is quite important to me to ensure that you are at least content with your circumstances. To be quite honest, Natalie, my motivation is not entirely altruistic. You are aware of the effect of our family's bond, aren't you? The emotional state of one of us affects us all, if we are near enough to sense it. Particularly with one who is as... unguarded as yourself." "Unguarded?" "You are very young, ma p'tite. Thus, your emotions and even your experiences are projected quite clearly - and at times forcefully - to those who can sense such things. You've not yet learned to put up walls to keep others from reading your feelings. That will happen soon enough. Be glad that you have not yet needed to defend yourself in this manner." Nat frowned slightly, digesting this information. "I suppose I hadn't really considered that aspect..." A look of consternation crossed her face as she realised certain other likely effects of this phenomenon. She turned, outraged, to meet her grandfather's amused expression. "It wasn't my imagination! You've been... listening to us, haven't you? Lucien, why? Why would you...?" "Why? My dear child, I have not shared such passion, even vicariously, in a very long time. The two of you together are delectable. And I must say, I have not sensed from you any resistance to my... addition to our joint enjoyment." Annoyed, she decided to ignore that particular aspect. Instead, she turned her attention to her lover, who appeared to be trying to fade into the background. "Nick, why didn't you tell me about this?" Nick flashed a quick, conspiratorial glance at his master. He faced Natalie, managing to look simultaneously shamefaced and angelically innocent. "Well... it just never seemed like the right time to bring it up. I mean, how do I explain something like this? 'Excuse me, Nat, but did you know LaCroix has listened in every time we've ever made love? You didn't? Well, I wouldn't worry about it - it's perfectly normal vampire behaviour.' Which it is, but that's not the point, is it? I didn't tell you immediately, because we had so much to deal with, and then it just seemed harder and harder to broach the subject. So... I just kind of... left it." Nat scowled, then shook her head, a weary smile crossing her face. She raised her hands in mock-surrender and laughed wryly. "I guess I should have figured it out for myself. I just never really thought about it...." After a moment, she sobered, casting an evil look in Nick's direction. "What do you mean, 'every time we've made love'? *Every* time?" She transferred the look to her grandfather. "Lucien, I saw you leave, that first night." LaCroix nodded, his face unreadable. "You came back? That's... you deliberately deceived me! Why would you do that?" Sternly, LaCroix replied, "I left out of courtesy - because I knew that you would be disturbed if you knew of my presence. I returned because it was my desire to do so. After all of my efforts on your behalf and my son's, I deserved some small recompense." Standing, he towered over her, his height accentuated by the proud set of his head. Looking down at Natalie, every inch the patrician Roman, he continued sharply, "Beyond that, however, it is not your place to question, fledgeling. Do not try my patience." He swept out into the starlit garden, leaving his granddaughter staring after him, stunned and hurt by his demeanour. After a few moments, Nick broke the silence, saying in a resigned tone, "You see what I mean about him?" ********************** (end part 4/12) Date: Sun, 9 Aug 1998 21:01:45 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (5/12) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimers etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 5/12) by Amie LaRouche Another night... Natalie strolled among the flowers, pausing often. She still found herself bewitched by the richness of the world which had opened to her senses when she was brought across. Sight, scent, texture... all were new and different, all enthralled her. Plucking a stem of apple-mint, she ran her fingers across the velvety leaves, almost able to feel the individual hairs. The rich texture and sweet, pungent scent filled her senses, sweeping her mind clean of conscious thought. Within this crystalline clarity she could hear, just for a moment, the pure tone within her mind which was her father's link to her. She could sense that he was near her, and happy. She also heard with slight surprise the rich chord which filled her mind as she felt Lucien touch their bond - the three minds at peace meshing to form a perfect unity. The flash of insight faded, only a memory of unearthly beauty remaining to tantalise her. She wandered onward, all unconscious of her effect on Nick. He was surprised by the delicately sure touch of her mind, where there had previously been the uncontrolled, formless link of the new-born fledgeling. He sought her out, finding her in the midst of the rose garden. A scene from a fairy-tale greeted him. His beloved walked slowly along the paths, her pale hands passing lightly from blossom to blossom, like white moths gathering nectar. She wore a softly draped forest-green velvet dress, its full skirt trailing almost to the ground. The scooped neckline bared her shoulders and neck enticingly, accentuated by a single strand of black pearls. Her honey-brown curls were swept back into the simple ponytail she favoured, with only a few strands escaping to frame her luminous face. Once again he was moved to a quick, fervent prayer of thanks to the Providence which had allowed him to love this woman. Pausing a moment, Natalie contemplated the perfect, crimson rose before her. It was poised just at the cusp of its growth, balanced for a time between furled bud and full-blown blossom. Reaching out, she plucked it from the bush. She touched it to her lips, utterly lost in its bewitching scent and the silken texture of the petals. So absorbed was she, that she was startled to hear Nicholas say quietly, "Now, my Beauty, you'll have to stay in my enchanted castle forever..." Laughing softly, she replied without turning, "Unless I can tame the Beast... and he can tame me." She heard his answering chuckle, as he embraced her softly from behind. "Oh, ma fille belle, you conquered him years ago... I do love you..." He nuzzled her bare neck, nibbling lightly at the delicate skin of her earlobe. Nat shivered, pressing back against him. Her body was soft and inviting, the honeyed scent of her blood intoxicating. "I'm so glad. I love you too," she murmured. She paused a moment, trying to remember the myth. "Wasn't it Beauty's father who picked the rose, which sent her to the Beast's castle?" Immediately, she regretted her remark, knowing how Nick would interpret it. In a small, still voice he replied, "Yes. It was her father's sin which condemned her..." He hung his head, laying his cheek against her smooth neck. Despite his shame, he could not bring himself to step away from her. Natalie would gladly have given anything, done anything, to take away the pain in his voice. She reached back to stroke his cheek gently. "Just remember, Nick - they all lived happily ever after. It was worth the price. Never doubt that, my love." He stood silent for a moment, her words a balm to his tortured mind. He said hesitantly, "Thank you, cherie. I try not to doubt it. It's hard to change old habits, I'm afraid... But I came out here for a reason. I want to ask you something." He fell silent. The pause was broken by Natalie, who prompted, "Nick? What did you want to ask me?" "I've been thinking, Nat. I... Natalie, will you marry me?" "What?" She was caught entirely off-guard by his question. Of the many things she had contemplated about their life together, marriage had never seriously been one. Nick said again, "Will you marry me, Nat?" This was all too sudden - she needed time to think. She decided approach this lightly, hoping desperately that it wouldn't hurt his feelings too much. She turned within his embrace, wrapping her arms sinuously around his neck. She looked up at her lover, putting on her best 'innocent' look. "Ummm... Thank you, Nick, but... aren't you still technically married to Janette?" Nick was bemused and a little hurt by her answer. He hadn't been sure that she would accept, but this was a strange form of refusal. He protested, laughing nervously, "Nat, that was a *long* time ago! And we weren't..." He trailed off, realising that she was trying, as graciously as possible, to avoid answering his question directly. She shook her head with exaggerated concern. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't possibly marry a married man. It just wouldn't be right." An expression of disappointment crept across Nick's face, despite his determination to look unconcerned. "I'll make you a deal, though." "What deal?" he asked, a bit suspiciously. "I'll promise faithfully to live in sin with you, for as long as you like." His jaw dropped slightly, and he grinned as he took in her counter-proposal. She continued archly, "But only if it involves a lot of sin!" She pulled his head down, kissing him fervently. She stroked his strong shoulders, running light, tickling fingers down his spine. After a moment, recovering from his surprise, he returned her caresses. She broke the kiss to turn her attention to his throat, which lay soft and tempting before her. She licked lightly, teasingly, along the curve of his neck, eliciting soft moans as she sucked gently over the vein, careful not to break the skin. Nat felt her feeding teeth descend, aching to plunge into the soft, sweet flesh, to consume the fire and darkness, the cinnamon and musk of her father's blood. Gasping, she pulled back to look at him, to lose herself in adoration of his angelic beauty. He opened his eyes, regarding her with wonder and desire. He said, his voice carefully level, "I accept. Natalie, sin with me?" She nodded, her amber-flecked eyes bright in the darkness. She replied softly, "Oh, yes, Nick... Gladly." >From his seat on the opposite side of the rose-garden, LaCroix watched idly as Nicholas and Natalie played out their scene. Even with his vampiric hearing, he could only barely make out the rough outline of their conversation. He smiled to think that after so many centuries his beloved Nicholas was still such a romantic. he chided himself, not quite believing it. His wayward son's continued belief in 'true love' was one of his most endearing, if frustrating, qualities. It warmed a corner of LaCroix' determinedly cold heart to know that his son - this offshoot of himself - stubbornly continued to believe fervently in love, and hope, and goodness, concepts which were long ago banished from his own world as inimical to his survival. The ancient vampire tensed suddenly, breathing in sharply, as the sensual undercurrents of his children's mood turned decidedly erotic. For a moment, he pressed his hand to his forehead, almost in despair, knowing that after the rapture would inevitably come the black, bleak desolation... Briefly, he considered blocking the link, holding the passion at bay this one time... Just this once, to resist the union of souls, not to be brought to face his eternal, damnable solitude. Inevitably, the siren song of desire lured him onto the shoals once more. ********************** (end part 5/12) Date: Sun, 9 Aug 1998 21:01:45 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (6/12) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Disclaimers etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 6/12) by Amie LaRouche "Lucien, tell me..." Natalie trailed off, uncertain about asking the question which had obsessed her since they had arrived at the chateau. She sat with her grandsire in the sweetly scented, starlit courtyard, leaning back against his chest, secure within his encompassing strength. LaCroix, sensing her hesitation, probed their link deftly. He could not, of course, read her as well as Nicholas could, but their bond was unusually clear nonetheless. She was concerned that her question would give him pain. The ancient vampire stroked her hair gently, holding her closer with his other arm. "What is it, mon ange? What don't you want to ask me?" Gathering her courage, the fledgeling said, "Tell me about Fleur? I know that she was Nick's sister, and that you loved her, very much. I think Nick sometimes regrets insisting that you not bring her across, even though he's sure he was right. I've tried to talk to him about her, but he just won't... Even when we share blood, he tries to keep me away from his memories of her. It's as if there's something there he's ashamed to have me see..." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "More than one thing. He misses her terribly, and he regrets the pain it caused you... but it's something more than that. Maybe if you tell me about her I can figure it out..." LaCroix reflected sadly on the irony of bringing up such a topic in just this spot, where he had sat with his mortal love many centuries past. The courtyard had changed, the garden become more lush, but even now white roses grew here in memory of his darling, his lost almost-daughter. It was like Nicholas, to cling obstinately to such remembrances and sorrow. He sighed, tempted to follow his son's example and avoid this discussion. But no, perhaps it would even be good to talk to Natalie. In many ways she reminded him of Fleur - doubtless one of her attractions for Nicholas. The two women shared the same open, fearless curiosity, the same compassion and generosity of spirit. "Fleur..." he whispered, as if merely to breathe her name might invoke her spirit - here, where he could not resist her influence. "She was... she was very beautiful, Natalie. So young, so innocent, so brave... and wise beyond her years. Everything I had sacrificed from my own life." He marshalled his thoughts, deciding how best to tell his tale. "Nicholas insisted on coming here, so that he might say goodbye to his mother and sister. I did not dare allow him to go off on his own - he was so young, still far too vulnerable - and Janette was willing to indulge his whims." LaCroix smiled wryly, briefly. "She has always spoilt him. "He had wrung promises from Janette and myself that we would not hunt in the vicinity of his home, as he did not wish any suspicion of our nature to reach his family. Therefore, when we were accosted on the road by brigands, we dealt with them in a more... conventional manner. The delay cost us dearly. We were caught by the rising sun, and barely made it to the chateau. We were exhausted and famished, and burnt by the light. Had we been alone for more than a few minutes, Nicholas would have repented his foolishness. Neither Janette nor I was in a forgiving mood..." The remembered irritation in his voice and mind made the meaning clear enough. Natalie reminded herself once again to be careful of Lucien. As kind as he had been to her since that night when he saved her life, she must never forget who and what he was. The General - the very title made her shiver slightly - had never lost his ingrained belief in his absolute right to rule his children. And he had made it clear, by his recent flashes of temper, that he counted her among them. She realised that she dreaded the thought of having his legendary rage turned on herself. The ancient vampire noticed his grandchild's tremor of fear with a certain satisfaction. It was good that she remember her place. However, it was not a response which he wished to emphasise at this moment. He shifted to a lighter tone. "Then Fleur came down to greet us. Nicholas had told us of her, of course. Frequently, and in tedious detail. He truly adored her. It was her image, I think, which kept him alive on Crusade. He never really did have the heart of a soldier..." LaCroix' voice trailed off as he lost himself in memories. After a moment, he returned to the present, resuming his tale. "Naturally, the Fleur of his memories was little more than a child. He had been gone many years, but in his mind she had never grown up. He was a little lost in dealing with the self-assured young woman who welcomed him home. He was certainly not prepared to accept that she might be of an age to fall in love, particularly not when she had the poor judgement to choose me." Natalie placed her hands over Lucien's. She pulled his arms closer around her, empathising with the sorrow which remained undiminished after nearly eight centuries. When he remained silent, she prompted him to continue. "How did she find out that you were a vampire? I presume she did." LaCroix jumped slightly, startled back to the present. "Nicholas told her." "He *what*?" Nat was incredulous. "There was, obviously, no way for us to be together unless she became my daughter. I was on the verge of bringing her over. He must have been watching us, but I had been too distracted to notice. He dragged me away, and showed himself to Fleur, trying to frighten her. She was a brave child. She stood her ground and declared her love for me. She was truly not afraid of the vampire, only of losing our love... Oh! my valiant little angel..." LaCroix gave a bitter sigh, almost a sob. He continued in an utterly emotionless voice, "Nicholas tried every argument he could - that she was responsible for carrying on their family line, that I only wanted another conquest, another death. He knew it was not true, of course, but he could not tolerate the thought that I would make her one of us. Even then he was developing his absurd obsession with mortality. "In the end, one of his arguments did strike home - that Fleur's purity, her innocent spirit would be destroyed when she made her first kill. As he spoke, I realised that I had never considered how she would survive as a vampire, only that we would be together always, in a sort of Elysian bliss. I tried to picture my gentle Fleur hunting... The woman I saw was another creature altogether - a creature of mad ferocity and despairing joy. I knew absolutely that this radiant child, whom I so loved, would become just such a dark angel, one who would hate her existence... And so I allowed him to take her from me, to make her forget. My heart broke that night, and it has never been whole since. I have tried to make myself forget her, but I cannot. And I cannot forgive Nicholas. I lost two children that day, Natalie - the one who never was, and the one who took her from me." They sat a while, both deep in thought. Natalie could sense her grandsire's mood becoming increasingly bleak, as he allowed himself to sink deeper into the depression which inevitably awaited him when he thought of his lost daughter. She stood, holding out her hand. "Lucien? Come walk with me? The night is so beautiful..." LaCroix looked up, recognising her attempt to lighten his mood. Nodding, he rose to join her. As they passed among the walled gardens, the air was a banquet of varying scents, sweet and piquant and aromatic. The paths were edged with low- clipped hedges of hyssop and lavender. Underfoot, mint and creeping thyme grew between the cobblestones, giving off sharp bursts of pungent scent. The flowerbeds themselves were a tapestry of old-fashioned, night-scented blossoms, the very names an invitation to romantic imaginings. The elusive, spicy musk of wallflower and night-scented stocks mingled with the clove scent of pinks, the penetrating honey-vanilla of the random snowdrifts of alyssum. Under the trees stretched dark carpets of lily-of-the-valley and violets. And the roses - always and forever the roses - blossoms of every hue, every size and form filled the night with their enchanting presence. Wandering aimlessly among the moon-kissed flowers, LaCroix allowed the balm of Natalie's pleasure in the night to soothe his spirits. The moonlit dark was bright as a clear day to their enhanced vision, pale colours visible to vampire eyes which could never be perceived by humans. Natalie paused often to admire the fountains and sculptures which graced the grounds. LaCroix told her the histories of some of them, the names of the artists falling easily from his tongue as if they were old friends. Indeed, many of them were. After a time, they fell silent. Natalie opened her senses to their fullest, revelling in the rich perfume of the gardens, the sough of the wind in the trees, the chill caress of the night air, the liquid murmur of the fountains... Almost unnoticed, her thoughts strayed to the firm touch of Lucien's hand on hers, the eternal, sensuous grace of him... She recalled the power in his arms as he held her close, feeling comforted and loved, yet always tantalised by a faint shiver of apprehension. Unbidden, her imagination conjured a vision of his full, soft lips parting, revealing just the tip of a needle-sharp, white fang. She shied away from such forbidden thoughts - banked embers of passion flaring suddenly into flame - trying to bury her longing for her ancient guardian in the farthest corner of her mind. She wished that she didn't have to have to hide her desire, but Nick wouldn't understand. Her feelings for Lucien... they were an aspect of her love for him. She had first begun to feel affection for the ancient Roman because of his enduring love for his son, just as Lucien had been kind to her for Nick's sake. That the attraction was entirely mutual was something she tried to avoid considering, as was her companion's obvious loneliness and sorrow. They paused beside an antique fountain, absorbed by its quiet music. She turned to look up at him. Her solemn face was bathed in moonlight, his a mask of shadows. "Better now, Lucien?" "Yes, cherie. Thank you." He was silent a moment, looking inward. "Nicholas, however, is fretting because you have been gone so long from him." Natalie frowned slightly as she tried to become consciously aware of her bond with her father. She always knew when he was thinking of her, even slightly, which was the vast majority of the time. She usually knew approximately where he was. If she concentrated, she could sense his mood, unless he was deliberately blocking her. Her bond with Lucien was similar, though much weaker. They had assured her that her ability to 'read' and control the link would improve with experience, to the point of being able to receive and send clear messages. With a twinge of annoyance she reflected that so far she had seen little sign of such skills developing. "Why can't I sense that? I know I should be able to..." She pushed, mentally, against a yieldingly resistant barrier, a dense grey wall of mist. She could sense only a hint of her sire's unease, but it was enough to bring to the surface the distress which she had been unsuccessfully trying to ignore. The sharp, bitter sound of six years' worth of frustration crept into her voice. "He's blocking me again! Trying to 'protect' me, just like he always does." She sighed heavily. "He keeps on pushing me away, Lucien. I don't know why! And he won't let me see what he's really feeling. It's like he's afraid... I just don't know what of." Suddenly she found herself foundering emotionally, fallen headlong into the maelstrom of fears which waited to engulf her in moments of self-doubt. Her voice rose, tinged with desperation. "Damn it, Lucien, why he won't let me in? This is really starting to scare me! What if... What if Nick's sorry he brought me across? Maybe it *was* a mistake, I don't know... I do know I pushed him into it. I said it was his decision, but I didn't really leave him much choice, did I? If he can't accept me as a vampire, I don't know what I'll do..." LaCroix interrupted her tumble of words, pulling her trembling frame into his arms. "Shhh, hush mon ange, ma chere...shhh..." The ancient vampire stroked his grandchild's hair, his dark velvet voice murmuring a stream of soothing nonsense. He buried his face in her curls, revelling in the warm, spicy scent of her, tinged with the slightest hint of the bloodtears which she had almost managed to suppress. he told himself firmly, not quite believing it, Natalie regained her shattered control after a few moments, her tense body relaxing into his embrace. She hid her face from view, ashamed of her outburst. "I'm sorry, Lucien," she whispered, "I shouldn't have let that happen... It's just... I don't know what he's afraid of, and that frightens me." His hand softly cupped her chin, lifting it. Reluctantly, she raised her eyes. The ancient vampire's glacial gaze held her transfixed. "Are you sure you don't know?" he asked quietly, the answer clear in his thoughts as they touched hers. Her eyes widened as she realised that she understood him perfectly, that she knew precisely why Nick was distressed. As if in a dream, their lips touched, a tentative, electric feather-brush of butterfly wings. A pause, a moment to consider that first brief contact. A moment to say, no, I'm sorry, how did that happen? A moment more: their eyes met, questioning, each searching for the strength to end this here, now... Desire long denied rose within them, between them, sharp and inescapable as blood-hunger. Again they kissed, mouths cool and silken, yielding and demanding... Their bodies melded, flowing together in an embrace no longer chaste. The caress of his mind within hers traced a flickering trail of velvet flame along her nerves. She was drowning, lapped by dark ripples of patchouli-scented longing... She/they shocked at the touch, the recoil, of her father/his son, her master, their beloved... As one they leapt apart, contact broken, the moment fled. Both turned away, fighting for control. "We... should go back," she muttered, barely audible even to a vampire's preternatural hearing. "No, wait a while. It would be wiser." LaCroix' voice was gentle, the controlled tones concealing his agitation. "Walk with me, Natalie. Please?" ********************** (end part 6/12) Date: Mon, 10 Aug 1998 19:40:44 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (7/12) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Disclaimers etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 7/12) by Amie LaRouche They walked slowly, aimlessly traversing the fragrant paths. After some time, Nat broke the silence. "Lucien?" "Yes, cherie?" "It wasn't just Nick and Janette who were lovers, was it? You and she..." "Yes." "While she and Nick were together?" "Sometimes. Sometimes not." "Didn't that cause problems?" "At times, yes. Nicholas has always tended to insist on imposing his rather conservative views on his companions. But in general, no. Do not forget, Natalie, that I am his master. Childish tantrums notwithstanding, my son knows better than to challenge my right to the affections of any of my progeny." Natalie thought a moment. This concept of the far-reaching 'rights' of vampire parents would have to be explored at a later time. Meanwhile, she suspected that this was another of the areas Nick had been trying so hard not to let her see. "The affections... of *any* of them, Lucien?" He merely nodded, briefly. "Including Nick?" she asked, thinking, LaCroix nodded again, his expression neutral. "So... How long were you lovers?" "Lovers? Truly lovers... That lasted only a few decades, until Nicholas was able to master the art of blaming me for all of his troubles. We have been intimate, emotionally and physically, on many occasions since then, of course. Are you surprised?" The answer came slowly, in carefully chosen words. "I thought that was the case, but, well... Nick has always fought so hard against you. I wouldn't have thought he would allow you so close. He couldn't avoid feeling your love in the bloodsharing. How could he see that and still claim to hate you? As mad as I was at Nick after... after he left me to die, I couldn't hate him. I *knew* how much he loved me." "Nicholas was raised as a soldier, mon ange, as was I. A soldier learns early the skill of not listening to his heart. He must forget that his enemy fears and loves, just as he does. The enemy must be dismissed from his sympathies. My son has learned these lessons well, and applied them diligently." LaCroix paused a moment, following this train of thought. Yes, it was a good time for an object lesson. He continued, "The ability to distance oneself from others is a skill which vampires must also master, lest we be overwhelmed by the intensity of feeding. My dear child, this is the reason that your father does not permit you to hunt. With your first kill, you will have to begin to break your mind into pieces, to hide yourself from yourself... One who does not learn the skill of living on many levels is lost. Such vampires live only for the kill, revelling in their victims' fear, more than in their blood. It is a madness, and a particular danger to those, such as yourself, who come to this existence pure of heart. Such innocence cannot long survive in one who hunts." Natalie was annoyed. Why hadn't Nick ever discussed this with her? She growled, "Okay, I understand that Nick is good at hiding the truth from himself. Big surprise. But I don't know where you get this idea that I am some sort of delicate creature! I am a grown woman (not by your standards, but I'll ignore that) and I have seen things which I swear would make *you* sick. I have survived on my own in a pretty tough world, and been near enough to death - my own and other peoples' - to have a good idea what it's about... and I've come through it all relatively sane. *Why* do you both insist on acting as if I'm some porcelain doll, that will break at the first touch of reality?" LaCroix smiled a little, sadly, at her intensity. "Natalie, don't you see? You are a very precious and rare gift to us. As a human, yes, you are a grown woman, and a survivor, and you have my respect for that. But is it so hard to understand that Nicholas would wish to shelter you from some of the harsher aspects of our existence? If you were to see a child - an innocent - about to walk through a door into the scene of a murder, an event which would forever change its life, would you not wish to protect it from such a shock? If you knew it to be a child of great wisdom and experience, would that make you less protective?" His eyes still rested on her face, but they had become distant, his attention lost to his inner vision. "To have that choice available, not to be forced to kill to live... If she were here now, my precious Fleur could be brought across without destroying her spirit, without changing her forever..." Natalie's frustration reached flashpoint. She rounded on her grandfather, eyes flashing amber as she snarled, "Damn it, LaCroix! Why won't you listen to me? I am *not* Fleur! And I am tired of having my life ruled by what you and Nick wish you could have done centuries ago. I know you think of me as a child, but how can I grow, hemmed in like this? I am not an angel, I'm a vampire! But I can't *be* a vampire while you hold me back... You have spent so long trying to make Nick accept his nature - why do you try to make me suppress mine?" Weeping, she ran with dizzying speed from the courtyard, trying to escape her own sudden, helpless rage. A few minutes later, flying low, LaCroix followed the sound of her angry sobs to an isolated corner of the garden. There, huddled in the corner of a bower white and fragrant with honeysuckle blossoms, he found her. She raised her tear-streaked face from her hands, glaring balefully at him, her eyes golden embers in the darkness. "Go away! I don't want to talk to you now! Just leave me alone..." "No, Natalie, I will not leave you alone out here, not like this. You will come inside with me. Come, child, do as I say." His tone was persuasively firm, the honeyed voice soothing her into complaisance. He took her hand, stroking it softly, hypnotically. Gradually the tears stopped, and the anger drained away, leaving her utterly exhausted. "Now, cherie, come with me. It is nearly dawn, high time you sought shelter. It will soon be too light for one so young to be outside." Nat looked at her grandfather sadly, knowing that he was right. In any case, she was too tired to fight him further. Nodding, she rose slowly. They walked in silence back toward the lights of their home. Half-way there, Natalie's hand reached for Lucien's. ********************** After sending Natalie up to bed, LaCroix sought out his distraught son. Nicholas was waiting for his master in the library. The younger vampire was seated in a high-backed chair by the fireplace, staring into the flames, as was his habit when trying to control his emotions. He turned to face LaCroix, his deep-blue eyes flecked with amber. His hands clenched the leather arms of the chair, as if he feared the consequences should he let go. "Nicholas? What is the matter?" LaCroix asked cautiously, although he knew the answer. Nicholas visibly fought with himself, trying to force back the words which choked him. When he spoke, his voice was harsh. "You may not have her, LaCroix! Natalie is mine... She is my daughter, and I have no intention of allowing you to... complicate our relationship. It will only confuse her. She is too young, too vulnerable. I will not let you touch her mind in that way!" LaCroix masked his conflicting emotions, as he usually did, by adopting an utterly neutral tone and expression. "Is it truly her *mind* which concerns you, mon fils?" His look challenged the younger man to be honest with himself. Nick glanced away, scowling. "Are you regretting your request that I remain with you? Do you wish me to leave?" Nick ran his hands through his blond curls, impatiently, ending with an imploring, helpless gesture of defeat. "No! Yes... I just don't know any more, LaCroix! I want you here. We have been closer recently than... than we have been in centuries. I don't want to lose that. But... I don't know why I feel this way, this time. It's not as if it we haven't been in this situation before. But somehow it was different with the others, even - especially - Janette..." "Of course it was, Nicholas." LaCroix' voice was patient, almost soothing. "Then, you were the fledgeling and not in a position to dictate terms. Now that the situation is reversed, you are jealous. Hardly surprising, I suppose. I would remind you, however, that you asked me to stay with you because you felt that Natalie needed my presence. Has that changed? Is she no longer allowed to love where she will?" There was a pause, before Nicholas answered with grim determination, "No, LaCroix. She is not. Not if it means that I will lose her to you. I will not give her up. Not after so long, not one whom I love so well... She is mine for eternity - you saw to that - and I cannot allow her to leave me." The ancient one was honestly astonished at his son's words. "Leave you? Nicholas, who has suggested that she should leave? She has said no such thing to me, and I would never ask it of her. Why would I? I know, better than any, what it is to be rejected by my children. Nonetheless, what we feel cannot be simply dismissed, any more than I could ignore the love I felt for your sister. That *is* what this is about, is it not, mon ami? You feel Fleur's presence as strongly as I, I know. Are you afraid that I will collect on our bargain, now that we are here again?" Nicholas looked away quickly, the fear naked in his eyes. "Yes, that is it. You fear that I will take away your Natalie in retribution... as we agreed. It would be within my rights. There is no denying that. But what makes you think that Natalie would allow such a thing? Have you so little faith in her? She is strong, Nicholas. I am not certain that either of us could bring her to do anything entirely against her will." LaCroix caught his son's chin, forcing Nicholas to look at him. "Do you truly believe me such a monster that I would willingly cause either of you such pain?" Ice-blue eyes met cornflower-blue, and for a long, crystalline moment, there were no barriers between them. The centuries of sorrow, and conflict, and fear were clear in their gaze and their bond, as well as the longing, and love, and passion which kept resurfacing despite their efforts. Nicholas spoke at last, barely above a whisper. "Mon maitre, I *know* that you would not knowingly do so, yet I fear that you will. I cannot allow this. I do not wish you to leave, but I cannot allow you to become my daughter's lover. It would be intolerable." LaCroix' glacial eyes flashed gold, briefly, before he regained control. His measured response carried an arctic chill. "I understand. You can abide my presence as long as I stay safely in the background, denying my own feelings, my own needs... Is that part of the penance you have assigned me, mon fils? Is this how I am to atone for my 'sins'? The sins of being unable to forget my love for you, unable to forgive you for denying me not only your own love, but that of your sister... Through all of these centuries that you have run from me, you have never run so far that I could truly lose you. You have made me your own personal demon, incapable of kindness or generosity - and yet you have assumed your right to demand my help and advice, with hardly a word of thanks." Nicholas' face registered denial, then shame as he resentfully recognised the truth of his master's words. He looked away, into the fire, refusing to meet LaCroix' eyes as he continued his rebuke. "You complain that I try to rule you, to own you. I would never deny that! You are my *son*, Nicholas! You know, as well as I, that it is our nature to be possessive - as well as protective - of our children. I am your father and your master, it is my right and my duty to be so." His tone became yet more stinging. "But you, Nicholas, you who complain so bitterly - you are more tyrannical than I have ever been. I at least have never forbidden any of my children to act according to their nature. I have never restricted your actions, beyond the bare minimum necessary to protect a fledgeling. I have never, *never* sought to keep sole possession of your heart or your flesh. All of these, you have imposed on Natalie. She is beginning to realise how limited her world has been, how little of her true nature you have helped her to develop. You *will* lose her, Nicholas, if she is not allowed to spread her wings." Self-doubt showed clearly on the younger vampire's face for a moment, the terror of losing his protegee. Then the gentle, seraphic visage hardened, the voice became steely. "Perhaps you're right, but I can't change the way I feel. I will work things out with Nat, somehow. If she leaves me, I'll find her. I will always protect her, even from herself when necessary. But I cannot allow you to come between us. If you can't control your feelings, LaCroix, perhaps it would be best if you left us." A brief flicker of pain, hardly perceptible, flashed across the ancient vampire's face, wiped away by a look of scorn. "As you wish, Nicholas. Natalie is your daughter. I would never presume to interfere in your management of her. I will, however, leave it to you to explain my departure." Turning on his heel, he stalked silently from the room. Not until LaCroix reached the privacy of his own quarters did he allow the mask of composure to fall away. He sought the dubious comfort of sleep, but it eluded him. He tossed beneath the covers, his mind filled with unwanted images, with words he wished he could bring himself to say... A restless slumber claimed him at last, dread of the coming separation from his children creeping through his dreams like the grim spectre of death. ********************** (end part 7/12) Date: Mon, 10 Aug 1998 19:40:44 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (8/12) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimers etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 8/12) by Amie LaRouche Below, in the library, Nicholas was startled from contemplation of his argument with LaCroix, by the sound of Natalie's quietly determined voice. She said simply, "He's not leaving, Nick." He turned and forced a smile. Trying to forestall the coming argument, he said, "I thought you went to bed, Nat? I was just coming up to join you." "I did. I couldn't sleep with you two snarling at each other down here. So I came to see what the fuss was about, and I heard you fighting. I repeat, Nick, Lucien is not going anywhere. Not if you want me to stay here. You haven't taught me very much, but I know enough to survive on my own if I have to." Natalie stood before her sire, her expression set, her small frame radiating self-confidence. Nick reined in his emotions. In a gentle, measured tone he said, "Nat, go back to bed, and go to sleep. We'll talk about this tomorrow night." Nick turned the full compulsion of his mind and voice on his daughter, willing her to comply. On another occasion it might have succeeded, but this time she resisted with all of her considerable strength. "No, Nick, I won't! This is something we have to discuss now. If you want to send Lucien away, because you think he's a threat to our relationship, don't you think you should include me in the discussion? Or are you just going to decide everything for me, for the rest of my life? You used to respect my opinions, and value my honesty - has that changed, just because I'm 'only a fledgeling'?" Nick protested, "Nat, I just think it would be best if he left us alone for a while..." She interrupted him. "Why do you always insist that you know what's best for me, what's best for everyone? I love you, Nick. You know that, beyond a doubt. And I can't imagine ever *wanting* to leave you. But, if you can't accept that I'm more than an extension of yourself, then you're treating me just the way LaCroix has treated you. I have not stopped being a separate, independent person just because you brought me across." "I know that, Nat, but our world is so different. As a vampire, you're so young... I just want to protect you. LaCroix is just taking advantage of your vulnerability, trying to seduce you. It's his way. He can't be trusted." "Nick, damn it, he's not trying to seduce me! If he wanted that, there have been enough chances in the last few months. He could have brought me across, himself. He offered, you know. I said I wanted you to do it, and he didn't argue. And as persuasive as he can be, it wouldn't have been that hard to convince me to give up on even trying to talk you into it. I don't know what he said to you, when he went to the loft, and I don't really want to... I do know that whole time wasn't easy, for either of you. But Lucien saved us both, and he's had precious little thanks." Weighing his words carefully, Nick said gently, "It was hard for all of us, Nat... Especially you. And I will never stop regretting the pain I caused you. I realise that LaCroix has gone out of his way to help us. But there is a part of me which doesn't quite believe that he's not playing some sort of twisted game with you - with both of us. I really can't decide how I feel about him these days. I want to trust him, but it has been so long, and there have been so many betrayals. I have been just as much to blame in many ways, I know that. But...honestly, Nat, I'm confused. And I'm scared. I don't really know what you want, or what I want... And I have no idea what LaCroix' agenda is, except that it's more complicated than it looks. It always is. I need to know, Natalie... You have to tell me how you feel about him. I know you love him, and I can handle that. That doesn't bother me, too much. But I need you to tell me if you..." he looked away, embarrassed, struggling to form the words, "If you... want him, if... you've thought of him as a... potential lover..." Nat was silent for a long moment, trying to find a diplomatic way of approaching the topic. In the end, her residual anger made it difficult to be gentle. With a slight edge in her voice, she said, "I'm sorry if this hurts you, Nick, but I think you're right, and it's time we were honest about this... I won't deny that there's a physical, as well as an emotional, attraction between us. I found Lucien more than a bit desirable even when I was mortal. That night at Azure - oh, yes, I remember the whole thing, now! - he didn't have to work very hard to hypnotise me. All of the power, all of the sensuality that you've always kept hidden away - the very things that have always so fascinated me about you - they were obvious in every word, every look... Up until the night when you brought me over, that evening at Azure was probably the most erotic experience of my life, Nick. If Lucien had ever repeated that little performance, I'm pretty damn sure it would have worked just as well the second time around. But he hasn't, that's the point. He hasn't done anything to interfere in our relationship. And he deserves - we both deserve - some credit for that!" Nick breathed deeply, trying to quell the fierce resentment which rose in him at Nat's words. With measured calm, he said, "You're right, Nat, you do deserve credit for that. But right now I'm finding it awfully hard to give it. I just... I know it's not in the nature of vampires to stay monogamous, Nat. We live inside one other's heads too much for that... I know that, and in theory I know this is no threat to us. I'm your father, and that will never change... But I can't bear to think of you having another lover, Nat, *any* other lover. And LaCroix... It's just too much to ask. He has taken everything from me. I will not let him have you as well." "I can't *not* feel the way I do! I can choose not to act on it, but I can't deny that I'm attracted to Lucien. Did you honestly expect, knowing what you do, that my love - or my desire - could stay exclusively yours forever?" Nick looked away angrily. He knew, intellectually, that she was right - that this was inevitable. The intimacy of the blood-link made it almost impossible to avoid developing a sexual attraction between vampires who were together for any length of time, if there was any emotional bond present. Knowing it intellectually did nothing to improve his opinion of the situation, however. Natalie continued, her tone increasingly bitter. "And anyway... why should it be exclusive? Do you think I didn't know, all those years, about your ongoing affair with Janette? Not to mention all the others..." Her voice shook, anger and pain threatening to overwhelm her. "I knew, the whole time, and I resented it! But I never said anything. I knew you needed to spend time with Janette, with someone who accepted you as you were, who wasn't trying to change you. Not that I ever admitted that to myself, of course. I blamed you, I blamed her, and I blamed myself... But I knew in my heart that it was what you needed, so I kept quiet. You, on the other hand, had the gall to get jealous every time I so much as smiled at another man. Damn it, at least you had an outlet! I was *alone* for six years, Nick, with no-one to turn to... not even you. Especially not you! You owe me a little bit of trust. I have more than proven my loyalty." Again, Nicholas tried to break in, protesting, "Nat, I've never doubted..." but she overrode him. "No, I need you to understand this. I need you to listen to me! Please, Nick, just be quiet and listen." Closing her eyes, her mouth set in a tight line, she tried to compose her thoughts. She continued, in a more even voice, "Ever since we arrived here, you and Lucien have both been acting as if you're trying to replay what happened with your sister, trying to make it come out differently. I can understand that. I know that's when your relationship with Lucien went sour, and you both regret it desperately. But I'm *not* Fleur de Brabant. I am Natalie Lambert, and this is an entirely new situation. Nick, you've got to remember that! You don't have to be afraid that I'll love Lucien better than you. I *couldn't*. You're...You are my eternal love, and my vampiric father, and..." she hesitated, "...and even my master. Nothing can break that bond - you two are proof of that! But I can't help what I feel for Lucien. I am linked to him, as much as I am to you. "Damn it, Nick, your father saved my life. He gave me back the choice that you took away from me! He kept me sane, through the nightmares, and the nausea, and the blood-hunger... He gave me the hope, and the comfort, that I needed to survive. I know you're scared of what's happening here. So am I. But Lucien doesn't want to hurt you, any more than I do. We've lasted this long, in close contact, without anything happening. We can go on like this if we have to. If you really can't bring yourself to trust me, to trust all of us - I can live with things as they are. And Lucien has waited centuries for you to trust him again. He won't betray you now. Please, Nick... please don't send him away..." She heard the pleading tone in her own voice. She found herself resenting this community in which age was power, in which she was not truly an equal in the eyes of her companions. Nick's shoulders were slumped, his face blank, despondent. "Nat... *You* need to understand. It just isn't that simple. It never is, when LaCroix is involved! Even if you could both deny your feelings - and I don't believe you can - there are other issues, disagreements between us about your training. It's better that he goes now, before things turn unpleasant. He's staying quiet at the moment, because he knows it's too early to push it, but do you really think that he'll be happy with the way things are for long? He has always said that it's unnatural for vampires not to hunt. I know that soon he'll begin pressing me to let you make your first kill... And that would destroy you, Natalie - and it would destroy me! I have done you enough harm by making you a vampire. I can't make you into a murderer as well..." Agitated, almost desperate at her father's words, Natalie broke in. "No, Nick, you're wrong! Lucien doesn't want me to kill any more than you do - any more than I do! He says that I'm too 'innocent', that it would damage me, just as he thinks it would have hurt Fleur. Maybe you're both right, I simply don't know. But... you're wrong, when you say that not allowing me to hunt keeps me safe, that it keeps me from changing! I *have* changed: I'm a vampire. I've become a predator, whether we like it or not. I can feel the difference in the way I think and react... in how hard it is to be around mortals. But I haven't been able to integrate those new instincts." Natalie's vision was turned inward, to the nightmare images which plagued her, sleeping and waking. Her hazel eyes were flecked with gold, testimony to her distress. "I know you both think that if I don't ever feed from a mortal, I won't have to dissociate myself from them. I understand that you don't want me to have to live inside the sort of walls that you do. But it's just not working, Nick... Oh god, I wish you were right about this! I wish I could stop this, stop these endless dreams..." She was trembling. She desperately regretted having begun this conversation, feeling herself forced to tell her lover these things. But it was done, and she might as well say it all and be done with it. "Nat, what... What is it? I don't understand... Tell me..." Nicholas tried to pull his daughter into his arms, but she pushed him away, turning to pace before the fire, her wild mane of honey-coloured curls giving her the aspect of a caged lion. "Nick, I *have* killed! Every night, over and over and over again, your kills fill my dreams. You know, you have to know, that the nightmares aren't getting any better. They're increasing, and I don't know how to control them. Maybe that's why survivors become hunters - the dreams send them mad... Only I keep getting new images, new kills, every time we make love, every time I taste your blood. I know you try to block them out, to shield me, but it doesn't work..." "Give it time, Nat..." Nick said soothingly, "It always takes a while to adapt, and it's not always easy. Just be patient..." "I have been patient! I have tried everything I can think of, and everything you've suggested. I think something is very, very wrong with me, Nick, and I suspect I know what it is. There is so much we don't know about vampire metabolism, so much we've never had a chance to discover. I can't find any other explanation... " She paused, unable to continue, afraid of Nick's reaction. He could see her sudden fear, and sense her hesitation and withdrawal. Rising, he took her hands within his. He said gently, "What is it? Tell me. Whatever you need to say, I'll listen, I promise." "I... I don't want to say it, Nick! If I say it, that'll make it real... and I don't want it to be real." She stopped again, shaking her head. She said in a very small voice, "I'm so afraid you'll hate me... I know you never wanted me to be brought over..." "Nat, I won't hate you! Good God, do you really think I could condemn you for anything you might think or do? You *know* who I am, what I've done... How could I possibly judge you?" He continued more gently, "Come on Nat, I need to know what you think is wrong. Whatever it is, we will deal with it, together. Okay? I promise, we'll work it out..." Natalie shook her head mutely, her eyes haunted. She turned away from her master, ashamed and frightened of the conclusion she had reached. ********************** (end part 8/12) Date: Mon, 10 Aug 1998 19:40:43 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Adult: A Gilded Cage (9/12) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimers etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 9/12) by Amie LaRouche Nick led her to a chair. When she had sat down, despondently, still refusing to look at him, he pulled another chair over to face hers. "Natalie, look at me... Look at me!" She raised her eyes reluctantly, only to drop them again. "Doctor Lambert, you know how to handle this... I want you to step back, and tell me objectively what you see as the problem, and what you think we should do about it. All right? You can do this." She forced a wry smile. "That's me, Natalie Lambert, doctor to the undead..." She sighed heavily, saying, "Okay, Nick... I'll try. Though I know you're not going to like it. You're *really* not going to like it." She squared her shoulders, mentally switching into clinical mode. "There are two main, continuing problems occurring in my adjustment, so far. One is, as previously stated, the ongoing and worsening nightmares. To the best of my knowledge, nightmares in the early stages of the infection are not uncommon, but it's abnormal for them to continue beyond the first few weeks." She looked to Nick for confirmation; he nodded slowly, considering her words. "The second difficulty..." she hesitated a moment, gathering her courage, "is with feeding. I understand that, again, it may take a while to become accustomed to the change in diet. However, the difficulties I have been experiencing do not appear to match my understanding of the normal categories of problems. They have also continued long after I would have expected them to settle down." Nicholas was concerned by the implications of her statement. Carefully, trying not to distress her further, he said, "I knew you were having some trouble, but I thought that was improving. What's going on? Why didn't you tell me about this?" "I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. I thought it would sort itself out, that maybe I'm just a bit slow to adapt. But it has been two months, and it's just getting worse..." She could feel her tenuous, hard-won control slipping, her voice beginning to tremble. "I feel like the whole world is falling apart around me! I can't control my emotions. I'm terrified to go anywhere near a mortal, because I know I couldn't keep from reacting, from wanting to..." She turned tortured, topaz-coloured eyes to her father, blinking back the crimson tears which threatened to overwhelm her. "That's normal for a fledgeling. It takes quite a while to learn to control your responses. It's nothing to worry about, really. You just need to feed a bit better, maybe even drink a bit more than you think you want." She shook her head vehemently. "No! It's not that simple! It isn't just that I have the urge to... feed... when I'm around mortals. Damn it, I don't just want to feed, Nick, I want to drain everyone I meet, you included. I am hungry, all the time. Ravenous. Worse than before I was brought across, when I couldn't keep down solid food. It got better for a while, but recently - the last week or so - it doesn't matter how much I drink. The only blood which helps at all is yours, and even that's only for a little while... It's getting to the point where even the smell of bottled blood makes me feel sick." She closed her eyes, her face blank with despair. "I'm afraid... Nick, I'm afraid I'm starving." Nick sat silent, stunned by her words. Nodding slowly, reluctantly, he said, "I think, maybe I've suspected this. I just didn't want to believe it. Do you have any theories on the cause?" Nat determinedly fell back into the role of the detached observer. "Lucien told me, before you brought me over, that without the first feeding of vampire blood, I couldn't process blood properly as a food source. He said that I would still process it as a human, so it would provide minimal nutrition, and could make me sick. My theory is that to a degree, that's still the case. The blood is not sufficient, but I can't digest anything else. Maybe there's something else involved besides the genetic mutation, some sort of co-factor which is missing in me. But I've never heard of a problem like this before. Have you?" Nick shook his head, no. "So I had to look for the thing which makes me unique among vampires. And that's what scares me." Very quietly, his words dropping like stones into the uneasy silence, Nick said, "What makes you unique among vampires is that you have never killed. So you think that there is something - some change - which doesn't happen until after you have fed from a living mortal. Is that correct?" "Yes..." the word was a sob, followed by a torrent of tears, all of the suffering and fear which she had been concealing breaking at last through the dam of her restraint. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. "I'm so sorry, Nick... I'm so sorry! I just can't see anything else which could be causing this! Sometimes I think maybe I'm inventing all of this just as an excuse to kill... Maybe it's really all a con by the vampire..." Nicholas slid to his knees before her, pulling her into his embrace. Her arms slid around his neck, as she laid her head against his shoulder. His mind raced, trying to deny her words, to find some way out. Maybe she was wrong, maybe it was a normal fledgeling's hunger after all. He remembered his own first weeks, the relentless appetite which had struck him at seemingly random times. But no, that had settled after a short while, and he had never been repulsed by the blood - by himself, at times, but never by the blood. No, this was no such ordinary appetite. He knew that, as certainly as he knew its cure. In truth, a small corner of his mind had known for some time of both the problem and its solution. He had refused to listen to the promptings of that small voice. He had pretended to himself that the situation would resolve itself with time and patience. And now? Now the time had run out. He could no longer allow his child to suffer by his inaction. Perhaps his vow to protect Natalie, no matter the cost, would in some small part absolve him of his guilt for what he must now do. Somehow he doubted that it would. The scent of her tears taunted him, stirring a wave of remorse, mingled inevitably with desire. His beautiful, precious daughter... He stroked her wet cheek, raising the crimson-stained fingers to his lips. The helpless despair in her blood forced his mind back to the present. Soothingly, he said, "Nat, there's no reason for you to be sorry. If anyone is at fault, it's me. I put you in this situation in the first place..." She shook her head, denying his words, torn once again by the guilt which he always took on himself. Breathing deeply, she steadied herself. She faced him, determined not to let this become the occasion for another of his bouts of self-hatred. "No, Nick, I am sorry. I tried, I really tried! I just wish I could think of some other explanation... But I can't. This is the only thing which makes sense. There must be something - some factor in living blood - which is needed to finish the transition. I need you to help me. God knows I don't want to... to kill anyone, but I don't see any other choice, other than letting myself die. And I don't want to do that. But if I feed from a mortal, I know I wouldn't have the control to stop! Oh, god... I've always known that one day I would have to take a life, but I hoped it would be a long way off. How in hell do we deal with this?" Slowly, the words coming unwillingly to his lips, Nick said, "It can be done. I'll have to leave you here, though, while I go away for a little while. Will you be alright for a few days? LaCroix will be here - you won't be alone." Nat nodded silently, her eyes betraying her apprehension. Nick closed his eyes, unable to look at his beloved daughter. "Nat, if you... if you really need it, I am sure that LaCroix would gladly feed you... It would calm the hunger. Take his blood, if you need to." He felt her petal-soft lips touch his own, gently. She kissed his cheek then, saying softly, "Thank you, Nick. I know what that cost you... And I'll try to hold out until you come back, I promise. I really do love you, you know. Forever. Nothing will change that." Natalie kissed his cheek again, then nibbled delicately behind his ear, her teeth prickling his skin. He turned to capture her lips with his. All of the tumultuous, overwhelming mix of emotions which had filled the night was in that kiss, that touch of mouth upon mouth, of mind upon mind. Nick turned his attention to the soft flesh of Natalie's throat, eliciting a sigh of pleasure as he kissed and licked along the line of her jaw. He whispered, "Forever...," his breath warming her silken skin as he scratched a shallow cut above her collarbone. Crimson beads glistened bright against the ivory perfection of her neck. Reverently, he kissed the closing wound, licking at the welling blood. He was shaken yet again by the depth of her love and desire for him. All else was forgotten in the sudden surge of bloodhunger which shook them both. Nick growled - an intense, feral noise - as Natalie struck without warning. The searing pain of her teeth entering his flesh, the utter self- abandonment of the act, overwhelmed his senses. He lost himself in the contact of their minds, her passion feeding his... Arching his neck, he slid his fangs through her fragile skin, freeing the elixir which waited within. He/they fed hungrily, she/they gave of themselves freely, ecstatically, their minds becoming one as their blood was one... For the moment, the hunger was satiated. Tenderly - as gentle as he had before been savage - Nick withdrew his teeth from his daughter's throat, licking the already-healing wound to catch the last drops of her essence. A soft, lingering kiss... A long moment of simply holding her, once again breathing a prayer of thanks for the blessing of her love... Nick lifted his Natalie in his arms, her head falling sleepily against his shoulder. "Love you..." she murmured. He smiled, looking down at his daughter with wonder. "Je t'aime, ma fille precieuse. Je t'aimerais pour toujours." ********************** Nick took on the task of telling his father of Nat's theory the next evening. LaCroix listened without comment as he explained the problems and proposed solution, then sat quietly for several minutes after Nick had finished. Finally, he said, "Nicholas, I will deal with this, if you wish." For a moment, Nick looked relieved, but he shook his head. "Non, mon pere, je vous remercie. Thank you for the offer, but she is my daughter. This is my doing, and my responsibility." "Comme tu veux, mon fils." LaCroix was pleased that his favourite child was taking responsibility for the situation. This should be interesting. "I have a request, LaCroix," Nick said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He considered his words carefully. "I know I was quite unreasonable last night. I was jealous and upset. And I was wrong to ask you to leave. I'm... sorry. I would appreciate it if you would stay. Nat can't come with me, and I don't want her to be alone here." "Of course, Nicholas. I will look after Natalie while you are gone. And then?" LaCroix regarded him expectantly. "And then?" "What after that? Do you still wish me to leave?" "No... no, LaCroix, I don't want you to go. And Nat would never forgive me if you did. She told me so in no uncertain terms, last night." With a slight, chagrined smile he reflected on just how determined she could be. "We'll work it out, somehow. We'll have to. Especially since... I have another request. A much harder one, for me. Not too difficult for you, I expect. I... I need you to feed Nat while I'm away. To give her your blood. It's the only thing which calms her hunger." LaCroix turned a sardonic eye on his son. "You are asking me to do exactly what you forbade yesterday." Nick closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing hard against the catch in his throat. Meeting his sire's glacial stare, he said, "Yes, Lucien, I am. Please, she needs you. I need you. I cannot leave her in distress and do nothing, even if it means allowing such... intimacy between you. And I know the consequences. But I am prepared to live with them, for my daughter's sake." He flashed a brief, sad smile. It faded, leaving only a deeper sadness in his eyes. "I will plead with you, if you require it, mon maitre, but I would rather not. Perhaps you could consider this the fulfilment of our bargain." He bowed his head. "No, Nicholas, I will not." LaCroix' quiet, silken voice had steel within it. Nick's head snapped up. His eyes, filled with despair, met his master's. "Will... not?" "I will not consider this the fulfilment of our bargain. That agreement is cancelled. I deny any further claim on that score. However, I will agree to stay here and care for Natalie. And feed her. I assure you, she will still be yours when you return." His tone softened. "Nicolas, mon cher fils, she is your daughter. That does not prevent me from loving her... but your position will never be threatened by my actions. I swear this. Now, go. I will watch over your young one." A look of sober joy suffused Nick's face. He voice trembled slightly as he said, "Thank you, LaCroix. For everything. I will return in a few days, when I have what we need." Standing to go, he hesitated. He took his father's hand, kissing it reverently. "Merci de votre gentillesse, mon pere. Au revoir." ********************** (end part 9/12) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 1998 18:47:52 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: (repost) Adult: A Gilded Cage (10/12) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Reposted with permission from McLisa. Nasty mailer glitches... Disclaimers etc in part 1. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 10/12) by Amie LaRouche Natalie was very quiet after her father left. It was the first time they had been separated for more than a few hours since he brought her across. As he travelled further away from her, she could feel their mental link becoming attenuated. She missed his strong, reassuring touch within her mind almost more than his physical presence. She tried to read, but the words meant nothing. Her favourite videos were unutterably dull. Nothing held her interest for more than a few minutes. She knew that it was less Nick's absence which affected her than anxiety over the outcome of his trip. He would bring back someone... she found herself thinking, And she would kill that someone to save her own life. Was it worth such a sacrifice, she wondered. How could she value her own life over another human's? But, then, that was just it, wasn't it? She wasn't human. Not any longer. She poured a glass of bloodwine, but it was acrid and bitter on her tongue. She forced down a few mouthfuls, but without Nick's strength to draw on she soon gave up the attempt. She had not even known until that point that she had been relying largely on their link, on his experience and self- command, to control her revulsion when she faced the bottled blood. She wasn't really all that hungry, anyway, having been fed by him before he left. The effect would last for a few hours more. And afterwards? Surely she could manage for a few days, until he returned. After all, it wasn't as if hunger was a new experience. She would wait, and she would be strong. Nick deserved that much. Wandering listlessly in the garden, she was joined by her grandfather. They walked without speaking for some time. Finally, he said quietly, "Nicholas will not leave you here alone for long, my dear. This separation is as difficult for him as it is for you, I assure you." Natalie turned to face him. She took his hand and kissed it lightly, holding it a few seconds before letting it drop. "Nick hasn't left me alone, Lucien. You're with me, and I'm grateful for that. I know he asked you to keep an eye on me. Though I'm a bit old to need a babysitter, if he'd only admit it. I'm just a bit worried... I presume he told you why he was leaving?" Her companion nodded, yes. "It's not something I'm looking forward to doing. At least not the part of me that I like to acknowledge. I think maybe that's what scares me the most, that my vampire side is happy about what I have to do." LaCroix regarded his grandchild gravely. "It is not wise for you to continue to think this way, ma petite. The vampire is not merely an aspect of your personality. You are a vampire, and you must learn to think of yourself as such. You must leave behind the rules and habits of your mortal life, not allow them to dominate your immortal existence. We are not humans, Natalie. We cannot be bound by their strictures. It is essential that you accept that. The price for attempting to pretend otherwise is too high." "The price Nick has paid, you mean." "Precisely that. You are fortunate. You are not prone to the self-loathing which bedevils my son. But such beliefs as his are dangerous, and they can spread. Take care that you do not catch the infection from him." Natalie was quiet a long moment, than said with determination, "I don't intend to. But I don't intend to become a killer, either. I think - I hope - that it is possible to accept the vampire, without allowing the predator to become dominant. Maybe I'm wrong, but I intend to try. It's really all I can do." LaCroix looked down with approbation on this serious young creature. "I am sure you will do very well, ma p'tite. Very well indeed." They turned back toward the lights of the chateau. Once again, Natalie took her grandfather's hand as they walked. Both found comfort in the gentle touch. ********************** Much of the rest of the night was spent on Natalie's first violin lesson, which went as well as could be expected. As LaCroix had promised, her near-perfect recall enabled them to cover, in a few hours, theory and basic techniques which would normally have taken many days to memorise. Unfortunately, her sensitive hearing made the inevitable discordant wails of the mis-bowed violin almost unbearable. Between Natalie's already jangled nerves, and LaCroix' limited patience as a teacher, the last half hour of the lesson degenerated into snapped comments and growled responses. Finally, LaCroix reined in his growing irritation. Forcing himself to resume his usual mask of indifference, he said, "That is enough for tonight. It is nearly dawn, and time you got some sleep." Natalie's eyes flashed with irritation. "I can decide that for myself, LaCroix! I'm not a child, to be sent to bed when it's convenient for the grown-ups." Calmly, he replied, "Very well. As you wish. I, however, am going to have a glass of bloodwine before I go off to bed. Would you care for some?" Her face brightened with anticipation, then darkened as her hunger was overwhelmed by the intense nausea which arose at the very thought of bottled blood. Slowly, trying not to show her distress, she said, "No, I don't think so, thank you. I think I will get some sleep now, after all. I really am quite tired. Good night, Lucien." Turning, she began to leave the room. LaCroix reached the doorway before she did, startling her. Regarding her intently, he said, "Natalie, you have not fed tonight, have you?" She looked determinedly past him. "I want to go to bed, Lucien. Now." She tried to walk away, only to be stopped by his hand, holding her arm in a gentle but unbreakable grip. "Let go of me, damn it! I just need to rest, that's all. I'm fine." "You are not 'fine', child, and you will not address me in that tone. You have not fed, you are irritable and exhausted. And you should know by now that there is no point in lying to me." Natalie insisted, "I *will be* fine, then. Nick fed me before he left. I just can't face the bloodwine. It's... it just tastes dead. It makes me feel sick. But it's only for a few days, until Nick gets back." Her voice softened, a note of entreaty creeping in. "I can handle it, Lucien. Really. It's no worse than before I was brought across. Just let me deal with this my own way!" LaCroix regarded her evenly for a moment, forbearing to comment further on her manner. His icy eyes hid smouldering embers of golden fire as he said very softly, "There is another way, ma chere. You may have my blood, if you so desire." Nat was always conscious of Lucien's unusual gentleness toward her, and it was clear that he was concerned. She was touched that he would offer to feed her, rather than waiting for her to ask for his help. On impulse, she hugged him, softly. After a moment, her embrace was returned, almost hesitantly. She laid her cheek against his chest, vaguely regretting the lack of a comforting heartbeat. It would be so easy to give in. Nick couldn't blame her if she used this excuse, if she took Lucien's blood to ease this aching, unending need. The scent of it filled her mind, dark and mysterious, touched with patchouli and cloves, the fire in its unfathomable depths reaching out to her... She could almost taste it - so powerful, so rich with experience - could almost feel his mind's caress in the intimate sensuality of the bloodlink... To know him, to touch his ancient thoughts, to feel his love so intensely... She shook her head, denying her desires, stepping back slightly but not releasing her hold. "No! I can't, Lucien. I know what Nick said, but I... I can't feed from you just because I'm a little hungry. I need to try to hold out. I promised I would try. I want to... to feed..." < Ah, god give me strength! I want so much more... > "But I know Nick would feel betrayed, and I won't do that. I won't voluntarily do anything to hurt him." Lucien took a long, shuddering breath. Gods, how he wanted this proud fledgeling! Her enticing body, her soft curves pressed yieldingly against him... the spicy scent of her hair, the musk of her arousal... The heady aroma of her blood, so sweet, so intoxicating, scented with honey and roses. It called to him, whispering of her longing for his blood, for him. It would be so easy, just a few words, a slight whisper of his mind within hers. She would never even know that the decision had been taken from her... No! He would not do that. This time, with this child, there would be no such stratagems. She would come to him, if she came to him, by her own choice. He would have her consent freely given, or not at all. By his honour, it would be so. A ghost of a wry smile flitted across LaCroix' stern face, and was gone. Naturally, his scruples would not prevent him from encouraging her compliance by more overt means, at a less critical moment. Stepping back, he said quietly, "If that is your choice, Natalie, I will not attempt to persuade you. The offer remains open, should you need it. Goodnight, then. Sleep well." Natalie's day passed in broken sleep and troubled dreams, the following night in restless wandering. She could not bring herself to feed, but the hunger was so encompassing that she could not settle anywhere for more than a few minutes. Once again, she wandered the garden paths, nearly delirious from starvation and lack of sleep, taunted by hallucinations, nightmare images dancing wildly in the darkness. She walked unceasingly, trying to force the night to pass more quickly, to be sure that she would be too tired for dreams when the dawn came. She was exhausted long before that, but she continued to walk, placing one foot doggedly before the other, oblivious to the beauty of the night. She knew with inescapable certainty that only the rising sun, with its insistence that she sleep through the day, would allow her to escape this tearing hunger. LaCroix watched his granddaughter from a distance. Natalie had barely acknowledged his presence since she rose. She seemed to be almost in a trance. He had hoped that she would come to him when the hunger became too intense, but began to doubt that she was still sufficiently rational to make such a decision. Nonetheless, he would wait. She would not die of this. Not yet. She was haunted by thoughts of blood, of Lucien's rich, ambrosial blood, so near... She could feel his eyes, following her, wanting her as she wanted him... The hunger whispered to her constantly: take him, feed from him... love him... make love to him... When dawn was nearly upon them, Natalie still walked outdoors. With some alarm, LaCroix concluded that she was too lost in her own private hell to be aware even of the coming day. He spoke to her; she made no response. He tried to lead her inside; she continued walk aimlessly, ignoring the pull on her hand. In the end, he simply lifted her into his arms. She came to herself, then, fighting against the restraint of his embrace. He spoke to her sharply. "Natalie! Be still. It is almost sunrise, and you are far too young to take any chances with the dawn. You are going inside, now!" She said nothing, but she stopped struggling, resting her head against his shoulder. She was asleep by the time he reached her bedroom. He undressed her and tucked her into bed, kissing her forehead softly and wishing her sweet dreams. ********************** (end part 10/12) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 1998 18:47:52 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: (repost) Adult: A Gilded Cage (11/12) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Reposted with permission from McLisa. Nasty mailer glitches... Disclaimers etc in part 1. Quotes from Be My Valentine, Ashes to Ashes, and Wm Shakespeare's Henry V (act V, scene ii), used without permission but with great appreciation. I'd appreciate any comments. Please send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks! ********************** A Gilded Cage (part 11/12) by Amie LaRouche LaCroix was woken from troubled dreams by the screams within his mind. Racing to his granddaughter's room, he found her curled in a foetal position in her bed. She clutched a pillow tightly, tearing at it with teeth and hands. Her eyes were wide open, glowing crimson in the darkness, but she seemed not to see him as he sat beside her. He could feel the hunger, the beast within her, clawing at her will and her fragile mind. "Natalie! Natalie, look at me!" Her luminous eyes turned toward him, empty of recognition. "You must feed. You cannot wilfully starve yourself to death, child, no matter how determined you may be not to 'betray' Nicholas. I will not allow this madness to continue!" He opened the vein in his wrist, holding it out to her. Drops of blood welled from the cut, splashing onto her lips, shockingly bright against their pallor. Her tongue snaked out, eagerly lapping at the spilt droplets. She shuddered, a spasm of bewildered terror crossing her face. Shutting her e