Reunited | By : Light7 Category: +G through L > Legacy of Kain Views: 981 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Legacy of Kain, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Reunited
Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios
and Crystal
dynamics, they are not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written
purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Kain
. . . then he’d be mine, my own pet Kain ^_^ *coughs* my birthday is on . . .
Warning: it has to be said . . . . this fic contains YAOI
(GuyXGuy), blood play and a lemon, if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it’s that simple.
Defiance references
If you choose to avoid any of these things the back button is right
there for your use and I hope you find what you are looking for. By continuing
you are acknowledging the above information and accepting it.
Pairing: Kain/Magnus
Rating: NC-17
Part: one of god only knows, um maybe three.
Believe it or not it was meant to be a one off but Magnus got out
of hand.
Set: Post Smooth. Kain has left Sebastian dead in
the industrial quarter and now finds himself colliding with another visage from
his past
Authoress note: I needed a break from
slaughtered that damn fic is killing me. I guess you could call this the sequel
to ‘Smooth’ . . . or maybe just a spin off; I myself am unsure what it is just
yet.
Please note that this was written in the fragments of time that I found.
Meaning that it was wrote around college, my jobs and
what pathetic social life I claim to have. This means that it was wrote at
intervals, often at 1:30 AM
and at 6:15AM before I
leave for college.
* / * / *
/ * / *
{Magnus}
The Eternal Prison
From the way prisoners in the eternal prison were treated it was Magnus’
opinion that this place had no business having any in the first place.
He snorted at the thought and winched, he was perched on the thin railing,
bare feet aching from the strain of having all his weight focused on such a
thin area. But he would not move, he was safe up here, or at least safe for
now, yet he knew it was only a matter of time before those creature started
looking for him again and thus only a matter of time till they found him.
He laughed quietly, a matter of time, strange how suddenly time mattered
to him when he was trapped in a place that was frozen in time.
Frozen in time
He had nothing but time now, time between torture, time to think, time
to remember. But the memories were like poison seeping into his mind, driving
him slowly mad with guilt and grief. So he avoided memories the way he avoided
those creatures. He spent his forever running from those creatures and his past.
Staring at the walls, with uneven stones.
Briefly he wondered if all the stonework in this hellish place was
crocked, he imagined himself wandering the hallways and many rooms’ hands
searching the walls for straight and perfect stonework that didn’t exist. Maybe
once he had discovered the answer he would count the stones.
His mind wondered off shortly, considering whether the stones had been
deliberately made uneven, imperfection to heighten the perfection that was else
where. He snorted loudly and listened to it echo back, this place had no
perfection; it was one twisted horror after the other, from the stonework to
the spider-daemons.
He jerked suddenly almost losing his balance, realizing just how strange
his thoughts were. He sniggered quietly, he’d been here forever and still he
recognized his thoughts as insane . . . surely being able to tell the
difference between sane and insane clearly proved that he still had managed to
hold onto a shred of his sanity.
He shuddered to himself taking gratification that he had managed to
protect even a fragment of his mind from them.
That thought was a cold comfort indeed.
He would hold on tightly to what little of his sanity this place had yet
to demolish.
Standing up from his crouching position he stretched, wincing as his
muscles screamed at him and began to pace on the thin railing displaying still
amazing vampire balance. His thoughts flowed back to those creatures that were
no doubt looking for him right now and he wondered again if this place was safe
enough.
He sighed missing the safe havens he had made when he’d been new here,
safe havens that took them ages to find and destroy. The missed the safety,
again he snorted, truth be told no where here was safe, not even your own mind.
In these dark little hovels he had begun counting the passage of time.
There was little light here and now way to tell where the sun or the moon was
so he had used his meals as a way to keep track.
There were equal spaces of time between his meals and so he concluded
that he would get fed once a day so each new meal was a new day. The hovel had
quickly become littered with white lines made with chalk, a tally of the days.
Last time he’d counted he had been here 7389 days. But the last time he’d
checked had been a lifetime ago.
He had quickly become bored of counting days, after all in a place where
time stands still what is the point in measuring time. There was no end to this
place and he was beginning to believe there hadn’t been a beginning either, he
had always been here.
When thoughts such as these would crawl into his mind, dragging
themselves on bloody broken limbs into his consciousness he would walk, and at
times where he could not walk he would breathe. Vampires do not need to breath naturally and so it took conscious effort to make
himself breath now.
The feel of air rushing into him, the strange tickle as his lungs slowly
deflated was enough, enough to distract him from the wild swirling thoughts
that he believed to be mad.
The iron railing creaked in protest as he moved over it; a rusted area
crumbled slightly giving him cause for alarm. He stopped moving and tried to
remain as still as possible, preventing the railing from giving up and breaking
completely.
He disliked not being able to move, when there was nothing else to
concentrate on, his thoughts would often wander, mad hysterical thoughts that
sometimes he lost track of and could spend days focusing on, coming back to
himself days later, if days really existed any more.
Often in these black times he would not remember and would just snap
back to himself, finding himself in a different area, often with blood on his
hands.
the blood was usually his own.
Yet there was always a worse way to go, he could fall asleep. That
thought alone made him shudder and wince. He hated sleep now, sleep meant
dreams and dreams were bad. He fought to remain awake constantly now, after all
in a place with no time surely this was possible, unfortunately
it had been trial and error in the beginning.
At the beginning he had allowed himself to sleep.
But then slowly, he forgot to how tell the difference between sleep and
awake, often he would think he was awake and find himself to be dreaming.
He hated his dreams.
Sometimes his nightmares would cause him to wake, screaming and clawing
at his head trying to force them away, pull them out with his bare hands. Then
he would remember that nightmares were no longer nightmares.
No in this place his nightmares were his memories.
Dark faceless creatures, slicing him open, removing parts of his flesh.
Inflicting on him more pain than he believed to be possible, he had screamed
for death many times, but in a place where there is no time death is
impossible.
He hated those dreams that were memories, memories of the torture he had
endured only moments ago. But more than that he hated the
dreams that were his memories of the time before he was encased in crocked
stone walls, with no time to die.
Dreams that proved either he was completely mad or that proved he had
not always been here.
His dreams of home, those dreams caused him to awaken weeping, the knife
of loneliness spawned in this dark place seemed that little bit sharper and
that little bit deeper inside his soul.
After a little while he’d stopped sleeping.
But
he still remembered his dreams.
Sebastian
was hurt.
Broken and
bleeding on the ground outside the mansion, he had called out as he fell and
seconds later a rather confused and worried scion had been leaning over him.
Vorador
walked up to Kain who was looking Sebastian over, obviously trying to figure
out how dire the injuries were. A quick glance at his child let the ancient
know he was just hurt and that his injuries were in no way fatal, yet by the
somewhat subdued yet fanatic searching Vorador knew Kain actually was worried.
“He will be
fine” Vorador smirked at the fledglings irrational fear, a slight snarl was all
he got in response.
“I should
have been watching him” Kain mumbled after a moment, Magnus winced at the note
of guilt easily apparent in the ashen haired vampire’s voice.
“that what
does not kill you only makes you stronger” Vorador put a cloven claw on Kain’s shoulder,
the young vampire twisted to look up at the elder, golden eyes were openly
confused,
Magnus felt
a smile twitch at his mouth but stopped it, at that moment Kain appeared like
any of them, one of Vorador’s own. Usually there was something that set him
apart from the other fledglings; it had taken Magnus a while to realize what it
was.
Eyes, his
eyes, all Vorador’s children looked to Vorador for the answers they could not
find, the looked to him openly with an obvious childish love in there eyes.
Kain had
never had that
He had
always appeared alone, he had never looked to anyone for comfort or answers and
yet here he was kneeling on the floor next to Sebastian looking up to Vorador
for answers that were to all as plain as day.
Vorador
sighed quietly and knelt down, lifting his child in his arms. Sebastian stirred
slightly and Kain frowned a little deeper, hissing quietly as Sebastian made a
subtle pained sound. Then the confusion on Kain’s face wavered and a smirk took
its place
“You are wrong”
Kain whispered to Vorador as he stood, using the reaver almost like a walking
stick for support
“He is not
dead Kain” Vorador spoke plainly looking at the child in his arms “and when he
heals he will be stronger than before”
“But still”
Kain actually smiled as he spoke now “that which does not kill him had better
be able to run away damn fast”
Vorador
blinked for a moment before laughing softly, making his way towards Magnus and
the mansion
“True”
Vorador laughed “very true indeed”
It was then
Magnus had known that, yes, it was love. Not matter how much either of them
didn’t understand it or tried to hide it Sebastian and Kain were in love. That
realization filled him with a mixture of emotions, anger for he knew he was
better than Sebastian, more disserving. Pain for his longed with all he was to
be in Sebastian’s position and confusion for he didn’t understand why he should
be feeling this way.
Instead of
turning and chasing down their attackers Kain had accompanied Vorador into the
mansion, followed him without a word up to Sebastian’s room and waited.
It was one
night before Sebastian regained consciousness, a further three nights before
Kain left Sebastian and a total of Four nights since the attack until the men
met there bloody and brutal end on the edge of the reaver.
Why he remembered such odd and irregular parts of his life he never knew
along with the loss of other parts of his memory. He began to believe this was part
of the torture, that those daemons had crawled into his mind disguised as his
thoughts and had erased parts of his memory.
He did not remember a time before the Great War; he did not remember the
mansion without many soldiers wandering its halls. He did not remember a time
without Kain.
In fact his earliest memory that he had kept was of Kain.
The first time he had seen him he had been so shocked that a fledgling
as young as this could have accomplished what it was said that this one had
already accomplished. His shock dissipated quiet quickly however after sensing
the power that pounded out of him in waves, obviously he was untrained in
keeping his magic under control, Magnus had smiled
then as his shock had turned to mild surprise and wonder.
But that to faded a short while after seeing his face, when the hood was
dropped, and it altogether evaporated after hearing him speak. Replaced by something very, very different.
Strange really that his clearest thoughts, the
ones unclouded by madness were the ones revolving around his life in the
mansion and more clearly around his obsession with his lord.
It was not love; Sebastian had loved him that he had known. What he felt
was most likely lust tinted with slight awe possibly making it feel a little
like love. His admiration had clouded his vision. The first time he had laid
eyes on the Pale enigma he had made a conscious decision,
he would have him even if only for a moment.
He need to have him. It was the most powerful
emotion he had ever felt, like a great force had reached inside him tightened
its hand on his groin and forcing him to obey, ignoring any ration thoughts.
He would have him.
With the decision made he had set about accomplishing it.
Unfortunately he wasn’t the only one who had made a decision.
Many nights they would speak, all of them Faustus, Marcus, Sebastian,
Kain and himself. All of them in one of the smaller and slightly homier
libraries, spread about one of the tables talking with each other about new
plans, different positions, the newest information on the serefan’s where
abouts.
It was these times he had studied his Lord, his obsession growing more
and more powerful, its grip on him tightening. The meetings were spent just
looking at him and listening to him, most of the time he wouldn’t hear the
words he spoke just the sound. It was wonderful to just sit and listen.
He would lie awake later imagining what could have happened and would
eventually happen for there was no doubt in his mind, even after Sebastian had
made an obvious claim, that he would have his lord or his Lord would have
him.
He had had many different scenarios run though his mind, often he had
imagined waiting until the end of the meetings, waiting till they would be
alone, then through a mixture of words and subtle actions either he or his Lord
would end up pinned on the table, the other holding them there, pinning them
down while ravishing the others mouth with hungry, starved kisses.
Yet always in reality, at these meeting Kain and Sebastian would drift
off together. Kain seemed unable to hear anyone else when Sebastian was
speaking, it never mattered what was said, anything Sebastian said was more
interesting than anything that came out of anyone else’s mouth, including
Magnus’.
He had hated that, he could have spoke the meaning of life and Sebastian
could have said ‘banana’ and all Kain would have heard was banana.
This obviously frustrated everyone.
Faustus simply got bored and wandered off, Faustus was lucky he was one
of those who could just follow orders, he didn’t need to know why the order had
been given or the mechanics behind it, just the fact that it had been given was
enough.
Marcus however grew angrier with each meeting, every word of his that
went ignored caused another little knot to weave itself into his hatred and
before long it was apparent he wished Kain had never arrived. Vorador was
arrogant and far to dominating but at least he listened to your ideas before he
dismissed them, Kain didn’t even hear what you said.
For Magnus, on nights such as these he would sit with his father after
the meetings.
Vorador had keyed in to what was going on between the three of them
almost instantly and annoyingly he had taken Sebastian’s side. Always saying
how nice it was that Sebastian was finally happy and did Magnus want to ruin
all of that just for a quick lay.
Those words had always angered Magnus for Vorador made his ‘situation’
sound so trivial and selfish and easy to ignore but to him it wasn’t, it was
not just some pretty girl who he quiet liked the look of and would be quiet
happy to have bedded, this was different. He burned every time he went near his
lord; molten lava replaced his blood and rushed like lightening to his groin.
It was physically painful for him to be in the same room and not do or
say anything to let every one know how he was feeling.
He had tried bedding other creatures, tried to sate his lust, yet it
made no difference, no matter how many gorgeous girls or beautiful boys he took
it made no difference. Since having met Kain, none of those charming creatures he
had been with in the past would have satisfied the near boiling lust he was
feeling now. The almost aggressive, sensual supremacy Kain held and the
occasional quiet moments had only tightened his desire for him.
Yet despite Vorador’s lack of understanding he was still a comfort,
always willing to talk with his child. They would spend long nights talking of
many varied things and once Vorador had actually admitted that he trusted
Magnus above all others to keep his secrets.
Those words had made Magnus beam with pride
However during these talks Vorador had spoken of strange things that
often unnerved Magnus, ‘scraps of prophecy’ as he called them fed to him by his
maker.
It was hard to imagine Vorador having a maker, or even being a young
foolish fledgling once yet it had happened. Vorador had been the first, the
first vampire to have been human, his Sire, Janos Audron had obviously been one
of the blue ancients that littered the mansions walls and windows.
Many of the scraps of prophecy spoke of a messiah, a redeemer but Magnus
often got confused as Vorador mentioned a Destroyer that was also the redeemer.
Vorador had admitted that he still couldn’t put all the pieces together
but he strongly believed Kain had a role to play. He wasn’t quiet sure what but
he knew there was something
“he reminds
me of someone I knew along time ago” Vorador had said “ they were different,
completely different, he was soft, gentle and wise while Kain” here Vorador
would laugh “ well he’s Kain . . . yet they feel the same, their . . . for want
of a better word their aura is the same”
Magnus
jerked suddenly, a sound lower down on the prison floor disturbed him. Looking
down he half preyed it wasn’t one of those creatures. He sighed with relief
when he realised it was another inmate, a male.
He
felt his mouth water.
His
thoughts of what had been seemed to have momentarily re awakened his lust along
with his hunger for blood. True the human was no Kain but Magnus still had his
imagination.
Jumping
down from the railing he followed the gibbering human male.
End Chapter One
Authoress note: this was meant to
be a one off, honest it was, but Magnus crawled under my skin and refuses to be
removed.
Little bugger.
Anyways thank you for reading ^_^
Please leave a review to let me know what you think
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