Return-Path: Date: Wed, 20 May 1998 23:37:40 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Perchance to Dream (1/5) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU This story follows immediately from the end of Last Night & includes some quotes from it. Nick/Nat/LaCroix interaction. Implicit sexuality in part 3. But hey, these are vampires - you expected that, right? The characters depicted herein are the property of James Parriott, Sony/Tristar, Paragon, and the other PTB. Many thanks to all of the creative minds involved. 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 book. 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 me first. ********************** Perchance to Dream (part 1/5) by Amie LaRouche "... And so, in your eyes, I am the devil." The velvet-rich voice flowed through the firelit darkness of the loft, trailing palpable regret. The apparently offhanded statement, tinged with challenge, did not mask the speaker's pain. He studied the blond man who knelt before him, the image of an idealised knight, resting his hands on a walking stick as if it were a sword, and a holy one at that. The beau chevalier in question, intently studying the flames, gave no reaction for a moment, so lost was he in his own thoughts. Slowly, Nicholas' head turned, his seraphic face betraying his distress. He rose fluidly to his feet, and approached his father... master... adversary.... He spoke low and intensely. "No, not the devil, LaCroix." LaCroix' response was touched with irritation, and fear. "What then?" Nicholas hesitated, his face softening slightly with the love that he had kept hidden from his father for so many centuries. "You... are my closest friend." Moving gently and deliberately, he handed the walking stick to LaCroix, who accepted it with reluctance. The younger vampire returned to kneel with his back to LaCroix, staring into the future, into his faith in a future with his beloved Natalie. he repeated to himself. LaCroix felt Nicholas' terror at being left alone in the world, at losing the woman whom he loved more than his life. He felt the guilt, the desire for punishment, for atonement which had become the core of his son's existence. He had watched Nicholas suffer for so long... Too long. He raised the pointed cane above his head, furious at his protege's self- destructive impulse, and at the weakness in himself which drove him finally to give in to Nicholas' demands. He had made up his mind, at last, to give Nicholas the freedom he so wanted, even if that freedom meant his death... "Damn you, Nicholas!" LaCroix swung the walking stick downward, arcing toward Nicholas' heart. At the last, though, he shifted slightly, only half conscious of the movement. The stake missed the heart, barely. LaCroix let go of the stick, leaving Nicholas doubled over in pain, but still very much alive, insofar as a vampire can be said to be alive. LaCroix could not, for all his carefully-enforced self-control, bring himself to kill his favourite, his son, his once-lover and forever love. Nicholas might yet choose to die, but it would not be tonight, and it would not be at his father's hands. And it would not be without first feeling the brush of the wings of death. "Nicholas, mon coeur, " he breathed, not troubling to hide the pain and the anger which consumed him. This was his last chance to save this man, who had been his life and his torment for nearly eight centuries. LaCroix' mesmerising voice, deep and smooth as bloodwine, filled the loft. He spoke as much to himself as to Nicholas. "I understand the need to move on. It is something that happens to us all. And your time has truly come. I also understand that with the beauty of this life, there comes pain and despair. No one is immune. But consider what you have in your hands, before you give it up. Don't trade a treasure for an empty box. "Love... It warps our senses. Twists our souls. Can take us past hope, past cure, past help." He sighed heavily, considering his own history of hopeless loves. "I know about love - its suffering, its anguish, its pain. Heaven makes means to kill our joy with love. And yet, we must have it - at any cost. But are you so enamoured that you will overlook your love of life? And you do love it. I have seen you smell the sea, gaze at the stars at night... Are you willing to sacrifice one mistress for another? Look into your heart and tell me that you're willing to make the choice!" LaCroix knelt beside his son, stroking the matted curls. Nicholas' eyes opened, wide, wary, frightened. "LaCroix, please..." The elder vampire stood, placing his foot on Nicholas' back, grasping the stake. He pulled suddenly, and hard. With a frightening, sucking sound, the stake slid free. LaCroix broke it into pieces, placing them ceremoniously on the fire. He returned to stand above his wayward son. "Haven't you tired of this incessant guilt? Hasn't it swayed your back, and stooped your shoulders to the point of throwing it off? You insist on taking responsibility for the actions and emotions of those around you, when they alone are truly responsible. It is so foolish. It is so unnecessary. It is so... mortal. And it must stop. This, and all else that has happened tonight should make that clear to you. "For all the things that we are, there is a price to be paid. Love may be tasted but never savoured. In our darkest moments, we may envy mortality, but we should never aspire to it. Guilt is a poison. And staying past our time, is death. But it need not be. If we truly care for a mortal, truly love one, then we must go. Isn't that something that *you* taught me?" LaCroix' thoughts flew swiftly, achingly, to his reluctant departure from Fleur, his angel of light... a parting at Nicholas' insistence, neither forgotten nor forgiven. "Leaving is the purest form of love." Nicholas, still curled on the floor, lifted his head to regard his master. He gasped as he spoke. "No! LaCroix, I can't leave her. There is no life for me without Natalie... I-I've failed again!.. She had faith in me, and I've betrayed her - *killed* her!" "Nicholas, have your senses become so dulled that you cannot hear her heartbeat?" LaCroix watched closely, seeing his son's eyes widen, their light beginning to return. "It is faint, yes, but it continues. You have not killed her - though she will die soon if nothing is done. I will make a bargain with you. I will save your mortal lover's life, if you swear to leave with me tomorrow night. Your Natalie will still live... I will even provide her with comforting memories explaining the necessity of your departure. You will leave her to grow old and die... as I left our beloved Fleur. Leaving *is* the purest form of love, for our kind. You know this, mon ami. She is valiant, this one. She will survive, as will you..." LaCroix knelt beside his protege, holding Nicholas' cornflower-blue gaze. He continued, "If you insist on causing her death," his son's face filled with shame, as he turned to look on his mortal love, "You may walk into the sunlight tomorrow if you choose. I will mourn you both. What is your choice, Nicholas?" Nicholas' tear-rimmed eyes never left Natalie. Torn between joy and despair, he whispered, "Save her, LaCroix... please... I will leave with you, if she lives. If not..." Almost before Nicholas finished, LaCroix carefully lifted Natalie in his arms, and flew with her out through the skylight. Below him, Nicolas de Brabant, knight and vampire, rose painfully to his knees and began to pray. ********************** Lucien LaCroix flew through the night, carrying the dying woman. It was obvious to him that she was in deep shock from bloodloss. She should have been dead. That she was not indicated that she had been affected, to some degree, by the vampire 'infection'. If she recovered, she would inevitably become a partial vampire... not the best of options, but at least she would be alive. She would not survive, however, unless she chose to fight for her life. A few blocks from the hospital, LaCroix set down in a small park. He sat under an oak tree, holding the limp body in his arms. He could hear her heartbeat, faint as the rustle of leaves. He gathered her will to his own, gently commanding her to consciousness. "Natalie. Doctor Lambert... Open your eyes. Look at me. You need to decide, Natalie. Do you want to live?" Her eyes were clouded, confused... and frightened. "La... LaCroix? Nick... where...?" "My son is at his home, contemplating his follies. Natalie, you must answer me. Do you want to live? If you wish to die, that is your choice. If you wish to live, that can also be arranged. What do you *want*...?" LaCroix' ice-blue eyes held hers, became her world, compelling her answer. "To live, LaCroix...I want... to live." Natalie's eyelids fluttered, and closed. LaCroix sighed, relieved. This made things slightly simpler. She would live, if she chose to do so. Unless... He regretfully considered his responsibilities: to his son, to the Community, even to this mortal in his arms. He had to know whether her love for Nicholas had turned to hate, whether she would betray the community she had so far worked to protect. If she survived only to become a Hunter, the consequences would be unthinkable. The master vampire's head dipped down, gently nuzzling Natalie's neck. He carefully re-opened the wounds left by his son, taking just a little blood... just enough to find out her true feelings. What he found almost frightened him with its possibilities. Churning emotions: pain, fear, a sense of betrayal... outrage, anger... Below those immediate feelings, however, he found a true miracle: a vast love of life, a purity of heart, a dormant passion... and an underlying joy which survived despite the many sorrows and the continual loneliness of her life. What he found, in fact, was the true counterpart of his son, and perhaps the salvation of his family. he thought < I suppose this will require a change of plans... Perhaps it is not yet time for us to leave.> Rising, cradling Natalie closely, he continued his journey. For the first time in several centuries, Lucien LaCroix felt a warm spark of hope in his cold, still heart. ********************** Natalie Lambert dragged herself towards her apartment, half-dead with fatigue. This had been her first night back at work since Tracy died, and she was not at all sure she was ready for it. The sudden loss of two friends, only three days previously, combined with the disastrous events in Nick's loft that same evening, had left her utterly drained and seriously depressed. The Coroner's Office had been reluctant to call her back to work so quickly, but chronic understaffing and a particularly heavy caseload had made it necessary. Her attempt at a solitary picnic in the park that afternoon had been spoiled by the extraordinary intensity of the sunlight (despite moderately heavy cloud cover), and her recent tendency to nausea whenever she ate. Not bad enough to prevent her choking down some of the food, but it certainly took the fun out of her pastrami on rye. At least she was quite, quite sure that the nausea didn't mean that she was pregnant. That was one less thing to worry about. She had also begun having disturbing reactions to the presence of blood. This was dramatically apparent when she arrived at a murder scene tonight. The corpse was several days old, and the stench of stale blood - bad enough at the best of times - had been overpowering. It had taken all the self-control she could muster to fight down the urge to run away, to be sick... There was another underlying urge as well, but it was one which Natalie refused to recognise. Luckily, when Captain Reese - who was concerned about her early return to work - asked whether she was all right, she was able to put it down to her recent recovery. Reese suggested she write up her preliminary report, then go on home. She was quick to agree. She had some definite theories as to what was happening, but they weren't terribly reassuring. She was going to have to have some answers soon, which meant she would have to talk to Nick. She wasn't looking forward to the experience. ********************** (end part 1/5) Return-Path: Date: Wed, 20 May 1998 23:37:39 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Perchance to Dream (2/5) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimers, etc. in part 1 Nick/Nat/LaCroix interaction. Implicit sexuality. But hey, these are vampires - you expected that, right? I'd appreciate any comments. Send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks. ********************** Perchance to Dream (part 2/5) by Amie LaRouche Natalie returned to the Coroners Building after the incident at the scene. Paperwork was, for once, a welcome relief. Nick came into the lab, hesitating just inside the door. "Nat, I... we need to talk. Please..." He stopped, staring at her with wide, apprehensive eyes. Nat looked up from the report she was writing. "Nick, not now. Not here. Just... for right now, pretend it never happened. Okay? I'm not ready to discuss it yet." Nick began to speak, looking as if he wanted to argue the point. She interrupted him, "Nick, please. I promise, we'll talk soon..." Nick nodded, reluctantly. "All right, Nat. Soon." He began to turn away, then looked back, stricken. "Natalie... You can't hate me as much as I hate myself. I am so sorry..." He began to walk out of the lab. "Nick?" He swung back to face her, and Natalie's heart beat faster as she studied his tortured face. "Nick, I don't hate you. I am *angry* with you, but I don't hate you. I still love you... I just can't talk about it right now." Her eyes met his, willing him to understand, not to fight her on this. He nodded, slowly, and turned once again to leave. "I... Thank you, Nat... Goodnight..." ********************** She stopped outside her door, leaning against the doorpost as she fumbled the key into the lock. She began to turn the key, then stopped, feeling suddenly disturbed. It felt as if there were someone in her apartment. But that was silly - the door was locked, there was no sign of forced entry... She shrugged it off, but opened the door warily. The table lamp was lit. A tall figure was seated in her armchair, a book open on his lap, wine bottle and glass close to hand. As she drew herself up, preparing to run (discretion being the better part of valour), a familiarly silky voice floated from within the dim room. "Good evening, Ms Lambert. I apologise for entering uninvited. I wished to speak with you, and I was unsure of your schedule." She took one step into the room, frightened and hostile. "LaCroix? What do you want?" "Want? Nothing. I merely came to see how your recovery is progressing, Doctor. I promise, I did not come here to harm you in any way. Despite Nicholas' opinion, I am not entirely devoid of concern for my fellow beings. Particularly ones whose lives I have recently saved." Natalie remained poised in the doorway, uncertain. LaCroix drained the wineglass and stood, "Very well then, I will leave if you prefer. I offer my sincere apologies for disturbing you." He turned toward the balcony doors, obviously intending to leave the same way he had arrived. Natalie stepped hurriedly inside and shut the door. "No, wait... LaCroix, you *scared* me! After all, we haven't exactly had the best relationship so far. I seem to recall that you've threatened to kill me on several occasions. And I still don't entirely understand why you took me to the hospital..." She took a deep breath, thinking fast. "Look, I really don't need to add a heart attack to my list of vampire-induced injuries. I would appreciate it if you'd refrain from coming into my apartment without warning me, okay? But since you're here... Sit down please. I think you may be exactly the person I need to talk to." ********************** With LaCroix' guidance, Nat began to learn to control the effects of Nick's bite. He assured her that the intensity of the symptoms would fade gradually, though they would never disappear altogether. A week had passed, and she was already becoming slightly more tolerant of sunlight, though the nausea when she ate had not improved. It was an effort to force down food, despite a gnawing hunger which wouldn't go away. And as often as not, what she ate wouldn't stay down. She had even tried the protein shakes she made for Nick, and she had to admit that they were pretty awful. She tolerated them slightly better than solid foods, though. Of course, she knew that what her body really wanted was... well... blood. Not just any blood. Human blood. LaCroix explained that in her present state, drinking blood would not solve her problem. Without the initial feeding of vampire blood, her system would not process it properly. He also said emphatically that, since the species on which fledgling vampires first fed set their preferences, it was definitely not wise for her to drink cows' blood, even as an experiment. "I do not want a carouche for a granddaughter," LaCroix remarked, "And I am certain that your tastes are far too refined to tolerate such vile stuff. How Nicholas brings himself to stomach it is beyond my comprehension." Her sensitivity to blood, however, continued to make her work remarkably difficult. She couldn't exactly avoid the stuff in the Coroner's Office. Many years of professional self-control proved useful in suppressing the outward signs of her reactions. The rest could be put down to grief and her recent illness. No-one took much notice, except to keep a slightly closer eye on her than usual. Nicholas noticed her difficulties but kept his distance, as she had requested, though it obviously pained him to do so. The worst thing, though, was that the craving was finding its own outlet. She had begun having nightmares. Images of hunting, of killing, images from Nick's blood... She would wake, trembling, soaked with sweat. If she slept again, it was only to re-enter the dream, feel the victims' fear... and the sensuous ecstasy of feeding. She was horrified at her own responses to the dreams: feverish with terror and desire, hunger and arousal... She wondered how Nick remained sane. ********************** LaCroix' visits to Natalie's apartment were fast becoming a habit. Having surprised himself by his decision to save her life after Nicholas "took too much" that night - just ten days before - LaCroix discovered in himself rather a proprietary interest in the young doctor. He had come to understand why Nicholas found her so fascinating. Not least interesting was her matter- of-fact acceptance that several of her acquaintances were vampires. "It's a bit strange, I suppose... most of my friends are undead," she said, coming out of the kitchen with her dinner in hand, fresh from the microwave. Her face fell as she continued, "Or dead. Oh god, LaCroix... Maybe I'm better off with the vampires - your lot seem to have a better survival rate." She put the plate on the coffee table, and despondently slumped on the couch. "That *is* the idea, my dear. Though it is not always the case, as you know. I am sure you are aware of our recent... difficulties." "Divia. Yes... I am sorry, LaCroix... for all your losses. Nick told me that you still loved her, despite everything." She paused, considering her next words. "You love Nick too, don't you?" LaCroix was startled by her question. He wondered what it was safe to tell this mortal. He felt an odd desire to trust her... Her blood had shown him that she would not willingly harm Nicholas, but whether this would extend to himself was not clear. Nonetheless, he found himself answering her honestly, "How very astute of you to notice. Yes, Natalie, I do love Nicholas. More than you can possibly imagine. " "Well, that explains a lot, I guess." Natalie looked down, contemplating her dinner, not yet willing to pursue the subject. She took a cautious bite of the stroganoff, then pushed it away with a grimace. "I can't eat this... I can't eat anything!... Damn it LaCroix, how long is this going to last? I don't exactly have a vampire's constitution. It doesn't do me a lot of good to be brought back to life if I'm just going to starve to death slowly. What am I supposed to do?" "I cannot tell you that for certain, my dear. Every survivor is different. You seem to be quite seriously affected. I can only say that the food intolerance should settle down soon - within the next few weeks. If it does not... It is possible that you have been sufficiently affected by Nicholas' bite that you've become more vampire than human. In such a case, there are only two options: starvation, as your body progressively rejects foods, or being brought over properly. I would hope that you would choose the latter." LaCroix watched his mortal friend with considerable anxiety. Though he did not mention it, her sanity was as much endangered as her flesh. Natalie sat stunned. Two tears rolled down her cheeks, becoming a steady stream. She laid her head in her hands and began to sob. "It wasn't... supposed... to be this way!" she wailed. "Nick wasn't supposed to let me *die*! I told him... I said I wanted to be with him forever, whatever happened... He said... he promised he'd never leave me! And now I'm not really human, but I'm not a vampire either... and I'm alone, LaCroix, I'm all alone... I don't *want* this! I don't want to die.... but I can't live like this..." She lifted her head, her tear-bright eyes begging for reassurance. "Help me... please..." LaCroix took Natalie's hand in his, stroking it hypnotically. He applied his considerable persuasive abilities to the task of reviving the hope which seemed to be dying within her. "Natalie, my child, you are *not* alone. You have my wholehearted support, and Nicholas' love... You must see that his insistence that you must remain human is, oddly enough, proof of his feelings for you. In spite of his absurd obsession with mortality, however, I am sure that even he can be persuaded to see the necessity of bringing you over, should such be your desire." He lifted her hand, gently pulling her to her feet. "Now, I suggest that you consume of one of those protein drinks which you created for my son, as you seem able to digest them fairly well. Perhaps you could distract yourself from the flavour by contemplating the irony of the situation... Meanwhile, I will run you a bath, which I'll leave you to enjoy. Agreed?" Natalie nodded silently, and headed into the kitchen. LaCroix searched the well-stocked bathroom shelves for just the right bath salts, determined that nothing should jar Natalie out of the light trance in which he had placed her. It was essential that she sleep long and well, untroubled by nightmares. He chose a bottle fragrant with jasmine and sandalwood. The heady perfume wafted from the swirling water. (...In his memory it mingled with her scent, the taste of her blood... so sweet, touched with honey and roses...) He lit candles around the room and turned off the taps. A fleeting smile touched his features. He imagined her porcelain beauty as she lay relaxed in the steaming water, her curls twining around her shoulders and caressing her silken throat... She was Nicholas' love, and even if she was brought across she might never choose to turn to him as his own children had done... but if she was theirs forever, that would be enough. ********************** (end part 2/5) Return-Path: Date: Wed, 20 May 1998 23:37:39 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Perchance to Dream (3/5) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Disclaimers, etc. in part 1 Nick/Nat/LaCroix interaction. I'd appreciate any comments. Send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks. ********************** Perchance to Dream (part 3/5) by Amie LaRouche Three nights later, Natalie was in much better spirits. LaCroix had returned the previous nights to repeat his soothing ministrations, with Nat's appreciative participation. Three days of uninterrupted sleep had considerably improved her outlook and her temper. She had even begun to be able to laugh again. She decided that it was time that she broke the impasse between herself and Nick. She believed that she had found a solution, which should - hopefully - be the best for all concerned. It was necessary that she have LaCroix' help, and Nick's eventual co-operation. She discussed her plans with LaCroix, who suggested a few refinements based on his considerable experience in dealing with his recalcitrant protege. He unhesitatingly agreed to act as her agent in making the necessary arrangements. Nat realised that she had become distinctly comfortable in the company of this vampire, who had been held up to her as the very embodiment of evil for six years. She had decided that, while he would make a very, very bad enemy, LaCroix made an excellent friend. She knew, of course, that this friendship would cause problems with Nick, who would be suspicious and frightened when he learned of it. He would believe that she had been manipulated into her decision, that she still did not understand the consequences. She would simply have to convince him, one way or another. "You understand that I would be *most* happy to bring you across, my dear, if Nicholas remains intractable. I would very much like to have you as a daughter." LaCroix raised his wine glass, as if proposing a toast to the concept. "I don't think that would be wise, LaCroix." Nat smiled, considering for a moment. "You tend to be rather... possessive of your children. Nick is more reasonable. In some ways, at least." "Easier to manipulate, you mean. Yes, I have often found him so. For his own good, of course." Natalie's smile became wry. "Naturally. Though I doubt you'd ever convince him of that. No, I appreciate the offer, LaCroix, and I'll keep it in mind, but I think Nick suits me better... After all, while my opinion of you has improved considerably," ("Why, thank you," muttered LaCroix) "I've loved Nick for six years, almost in spite of myself. Becoming a vampire isn't exactly something I'd ever have contemplated otherwise, much less come this close to experiencing." Natalie paused, then grinned. "Besides, he's a lot closer to my age." "Which merely means that he has less than half my experience, my dear Natalie. Consider the numerous benefits of age..." LaCroix raised one eyebrow and smiled slightly, "Among other things, I could teach you to pronounce Latin properly. For such an educated woman, your accent is atrocious." "Well, I didn't have the advantage of a 'classical' education. Besides, if it bothers you, you can always tutor me anyway. Isn't that what grandfathers do?" "Natalie, cherie, I am hardly the grandfatherly type." "No, I suppose not. How about an uncle, then? I've always wanted one." She paused for a moment, sporting a mischievous grin. "Uncle LaCroix... No, that's not right... Uncle Lucien. Yes, I think that'll do. What do *you* think, Uncle Lucien?" Natalie tried her best wide-eyed innocent look on him, hoping that she hadn't just gone a bit too far in teasing the famously irascible, ancient vampire. LaCroix glowered, then smiled slowly. "I think, Natalie, that if you address me as Lucien, I shall be forced to forgive your choice of sobriquet." He sobered. "I hear my own name so seldom, particularly from... my own children. I would be most honoured if you would call me Lucien. And I look forward to the day when I am truly your uncle." He took her hand and kissed it tenderly, then leaned back in his chair and lifted his glass. "To kinship." ********************** (end part 3/5) Return-Path: Date: Wed, 20 May 1998 23:37:39 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Perchance to Dream (4/5) To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU Disclaimers in part 1 Nick/Nat/LaCroix interaction. I'd appreciate any comments. Send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks. ********************** Perchance to Dream (part 4/5) by Amie LaRouche He saw the letter as he entered his loft, stark white against the black of the piano. The envelope read only 'Nick', but he knew her handwriting in a moment, and her scent rose from the paper - undetectable to a human, but clear to his vampiric senses. He forced himself to set down the letter, go to the kitchen, mix and choke down one of Natalie's vile protein drinks - as if he could soften the words of the letter by following the rules laid down by its writer. Nick only hesitated a moment as he passed the refrigerator. These days, he found the cows' blood he forced himself to drink almost as nauseating as Nat's concoctions. How could he tolerate that swill, after the sweet nectar, the intoxicating honey-and-roses of his Natalie's blood... A wave of self-loathing passed through him. <*My* Natalie! How can I even dare think that, after what I did to her?> It was obvious from her demeanour to him over the past two weeks that she only wanted to forget the entire incident - and him, and the past six years... He had tried to talk to her when she first came back to work, but she brushed him off, promising to talk later. She even said - then - that she still loved him. But since that time she had avoided contact, even to leaving the room when he entered it. There was always an excuse, but he knew... he knew that this letter was meant to send him out of her life. Forever. Despairing, he grabbed the letter and seated himself in his black leather armchair. And he read... ********************** My dear Nicholas, No, I haven't forgiven you. Not yet. Someday, but not today... But that doesn't mean I've stopped loving you. How could I, knowing you as I do, having tasted your blood in my own? No wonder LaCroix can't let you go. He loves you, you know, for all your centuries of fighting. I have spoken with him several times, since that night. He told me more or less what happened, after you thought you had taken too much. He said that that after you asked him to kill you, to let you be with me if death if not in life, he almost did as you asked. But at the last, he could not destroy his son. And so he gave you your wish - he saved my life as well as your own. Oh Nick - so much has changed. My perceptions of you, of us, of the difficulties we face... And I pray that you are still willing for us to face them together. My perceptions... I saw so much in the blood-sharing, so much that I've forgotten... It has dissolved into isolated images, the aftermath of a dream. Jumbled feelings - terror, rage, joy, sorrow, lust; the ecstasy of feeding; the adrenaline rush of hunting, of being hunted; a vast, overwhelming regret; and love. Oh, yes, love... Love for your sister Fleur, for her son Andre, and your loss of them both... Love for Alyssa, your wedding bower becoming her tomb... So much love, so much loss, so much guilt laid at your door. So many loves, through the centuries. And through it all, your family - Janette and LaCroix... always, the love of those two, and always laced with anger and pain. And then I saw, in the blood, a light burning in your darkness... It's not right, I think, to know that one is truly loved, and precisely how much. It is rather disturbing. And now I know you as never before... And I know myself. Near-death will do that, you know. Of course you know. I have seen... Your pain, your regrets, your abiding guilt - these are the other side of your passionate love of life, and your fear of really living. At base, you are what you were raised to be - le chevallier Nicolas de Brabant, a Crusader knight, a 13th Century Christian nobleman. Despite centuries of denial, you still believe in the God and the Devil of your childhood, that because of what you are your soul is irretrievably lost, tainted with evil. And so you atone for your faults. You repent, calling your sins into your perfect memory, lashing yourself with your victims' pain and fear. As you recall your kills, you also remember - against your will - the seductive, heady, sensuous thrill of the hunt. And so you torture yourself further, for your weakness in even thinking of such things. To be forgiven your sins, you were taught, you must repent sincerely, do pennance, and "sin no more". The first two you have certainly mastered. The last is a bit unrealistic, under the circumstances... but you do work hard at it. Good works help too, or so many believe. You're a homicide detective. You have been a cop for most of this century, in fact, and a freelance defender of the weak long before that. Enough said. Nicholas, my love, look at yourself. Your self-imposed pennance is far too severe. You would not agree, of course. But I have seen it - I have felt the self-denial, the constant, gnawing hunger with which you live. I felt your hunger for only a moment, and it was more than I could stand. Your diet of cows' blood keeps you alive, but no more than that. I know that now... You don't deserve to be punished this way. You hope, I think, in your heart of hearts, that if you torture yourself, mentally and physically, for long enough, you will clear your slate with God. And yet, you believe that because you are a vampire you are evil, intrinsically and forever, despite all evidence to the contrary. Thus, nothing you do will ever wash your soul clean. You feel that you *deserve* to die, to be punished forever - but you cannot bring yourself to commit yet another mortal sin, that of suicide. After all, perhaps you are wrong and you have earned forgiveness... I think, though, that fear is not the reason you have chosen not to walk into the sunlight. You have proven that fear cannot rule you. I know that you have a much better incentive to stay alive: life itself. You *do* love life, don't you, Nicholas? As much as you fear to die, you are desperate to live, even without the sunshine you miss so much. I have never known anyone who more truly appreciates the act of being alive. That love which has sustained you for nearly 800 years is, in the end, love of life in all its manifestations. You want to live, but you can't abide your own pain. Perhaps you have forgotten that there is an alternative. Pain cannot be altogether avoided, but it does not have to be constantly present. I have seen joy in you so seldom. I believe you are suspicious of joy - you have convinced yourself that you do not deserve unalloyed happiness. Passion, you have, but it is most often the passion of desperation. Your music, your paintings - their passion and their pain clench my heart... And their beauty is a pale reflection of your own vibrant soul, my love. You need absolution, if you are to begin to live again. The forgiveness you most need is your own, but you won't grant it at this point. So I have an idea. I said that I haven't forgiven you, and that is true. Not for feeding from me - I asked you to do that. Not for taking too much... that was as much my fault as yours. I was desperate myself, with my own loneliness and guilt, and anger. I was angry with you for presuming to make choices for me - and so I pushed you farther than I had ever dared before. I wanted to force you to believe, as I did and do, that we can make this work. And I found out that even Nicholas Knight can lose control. Perhaps I wanted you to. But I didn't think it would end as it did... I was telling the truth, when I said that I trusted you, that I had faith - and for a short while there, I believe that you did too. I still do have faith, in a greater Being, and in you. And in our love - that somehow we will be together. It was also true when I said that I wanted to be with you forever, in the light or in the dark, as mortals or vampires. What I have not forgiven you for is your choice not to bring me across. I wanted to be with you. I still want to be with you. And I am hurt and angry that you would consider bringing Tracy across, that you did bring Janette back against her will, but you would rather that both of us die, than that I become what you are. Damn it, you had no right to leave me to die! I know that you don't believe that I would choose to walk with you in your darkness. You can't see that if I were with you, it would not be dark. Not for me. If I could be with you, love you, live in your light... That would be all I need, and more than I ever expected from life. ********************** [author's note: sorry, I have to break here for length...] (end part 4/5) Return-Path: Date: Wed, 20 May 1998 23:37:40 +1200 Reply-To: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories Comments: Authenticated sender is From: Bastian & Amie Subject: Perchance to Dream (5/5) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu Perchance to Dream (part 5/5) Disclaimers, etc. in part 1 Nick/Nat/LaCroix interaction. I'd appreciate any comments. Send them to: a.larouche@ext.canterbury.ac.nz. Thanks. ********************** Perchance to Dream (part 4/5) by Amie LaRouche [Nat's letter to Nick, continued...] And so, to my idea... We are getting nowhere with the cure, and I suspect we never will, at least not by continuing to follow the same path. Thus, we need to consider new options. I have been approaching your condition as a matter of pure biology, treating the need for blood as an addiction which can be broken by persistence and re-training of the metabolism. And perhaps there will someday be a biological cure, a way to remove the vampire infection from your system. I haven't found it though, and the treatments - cutting down on blood, protein shakes, vitamins and so on - have brought no real improvement. If anything, they have made your situation worse. You seem to have the benefits of neither world, now. Your healing and reflexes are slowed. Your self-control is stretched to its limits continually, by what I have now realised is malnutrition bordering on starvation. And you still can't tolerate food or sunlight... Added to this is emotional and tactile starvation. As I now truly understand, the emotional content of the blood is as important as its nutritional value. The impact of the images and feelings I received when you bit me was overwhelming - it was terrifying, but to describe it as orgasmic would be to sell it short - and I know that that is only a fraction of your experience of the event. Even bottled blood, I have been told, contains at least vestiges of the thoughts and experiences of the human from whom it came. I suppose animal blood must have some sensate content, but cows are boring at the best of times. You have forced yourself to avoid anything which might cause the vampire to surface. Increasingly, you seem to have found even the most casual of physical contacts too tempting. You have been trying to suppress your nature entirely, by sheer force of will. Possibly, you might succeed - if you removed yourself from daily contact with humans... But then I believe you would wither altogether, and be dead inside long before you ended your own life. Perhaps Janette's cure could still work for us - though as you said, it's a lot more complicated than just "taking a little at a time." Or at least it is in our case. Don't argue with me yet - hear me out. Nick, I know that you love me - and you can't help but know how very much I love you. I don't want to lose that. I don't think I could stand to. So I want you to try an experiment for me. I want you to begin to drink human blood again. Bottled, of course. I know that you have sworn - over and again, like any addict - never to drink it again. And I have always encouraged you in this. Let's be honest, I have been unreasonably hard on you when you've drunk any blood, much less human. Now - please forgive me - I believe I have been very, very wrong. I know why you choose not to drink human blood... You have sworn not to kill again, and you feel that any human blood will reawaken the hunter in you. And of course, it is your penance, to deny yourself that which you most need. I want you to break this self-imposed taboo. If it helps, believe that you owe it to me to do as I ask. I think it is the only way for us to be together. Consider: you have, in the past, successfully drunk from humans without draining them. You have even (in your less than savoury moments) fed from the same people repeatedly before killing them. You have, to my knowledge, successfully brought across two people who were on the verge of death, and another in less frantic circumstances. But it is unreasonable to expect a starving man to exercise control when faced with a feast. And human blood, from a live and willing source, must be almost unbearably tempting to you. You fear that you cannot exercise sufficient self-control with someone you love. I know that the memory of Alyssa haunts you, but that was a very long time ago. You were young and inexperienced. And of course, what happened two weeks ago has shaken us both. So, I want you to begin drinking human blood again. As much as you need, whenever you need it. If you feel you must, you may supplement it with cows' blood. If you really feel the need to do pennance, we can continue to try out new protein shakes... But I want you to feed properly. We won't get anywhere while you're malnourished. When you feel more in control, and when I think you're ready, I want us to try again. This time, though, I think there are only two options available to us. Dying, for either or both of us, is not an acceptable choice. Either we will succeed with Janette's cure, or you will bring me across. I'm increasingly inclined to the latter option, but I'm willing to try for the former if you're still determined. You promised me, Nick. You promised that you'd never leave me. I want to hold you to that. You can run away, or we can work this out, but we can't go back to pretending that we're happy with a pseudo-Platonic friendship. Our love is too important for that. I think we can do it. Whether we walk in the light or in the darkness, if we both want it, we can be together. Forever. Natalie ********************** The tears ran down Nicholas' face as he read. How could she know him, have seen so much and still love him, still be willing to accept him as part of her life? It was beyond his comprehension. He reread the letter, over and again, until he was able to believe that it was real. All at once, the hunger which he had been ignoring for so long surfaced, raging, threatening to overwhelm his senses. It was as if his body accepted Natalie's offer, before his mind or emotions had the chance to process it. He found himself across the room at the refrigerator before he had consciously decided to make such a move. His mind whirled with contradictory impulses and thoughts. His hand opened the fridge door - his body once again seeming to overrule his mind. He stared, astonished, at the array before him. LaCroix must have been there already - the entire compartment was packed with bottles bearing the Raven's label. One bottle stood out, though. It sat on the top shelf, separated from the others. It bore a red ribbon bow, into which was tucked a single, perfect white rose. Nicholas Knight sat in his armchair, contemplating the bottle and the cut- crystal wineglass beside it, drunk with the fragrance of the rose. He slowly, carefully poured the bloodwine, revelling in its enticing colour and heady scent. He raised the glass to the firelight, admiring the play of light in its rich red depths, and sipped. Oh, the intoxication in the blood! It tasted of honey and roses, of love and faith and the future... a future with his Natalie. Forever. ********************** (end part 5/5)