formmusebox | for Essek (lacrymaperle)

for Essek (lacrymaperle) - vampire/werewolf au

[There had been a simpler time, several years before when Bren hadn't yet known Trent Ikithon, a time when he was thoroughly and blissfully unaware of the things that existed in the dark, when the ideas of werewolves and vampires and other creatures that ought to have been nothing more than fairy tale fodder. Instead, his paths had crossed with Trent and everything had changed. He'd been thrown into a small walled courtyard one night, under the light of a full moon, and he had not been alone. That was the first time he had met a werewolf. Bren remembered the bite, still had the scar of it on one forearm, remembered the confusion and the terror -- both of which were nothing compared to the full moon that followed the month after, the first time he'd transformed. He remembered the pain of his entire body breaking and reshaping itself, the fear of losing himself entirely. He'd blacked out that night, woken up naked and aching as if he'd been run over by a bus.

It had been the same very moon since, except that piece by piece, bit by bit, he held onto some small shred of himself during the transformation. Trent Ikithon had explained that all this was for Bren's own good, that he was safer here than anywhere else. that there were vampires who would tear him apart on sight, one in particular, a singular monster who Trent seemed to have a personal loathing for. Bren tried to probe why any vampire, never mind a particular one, would have any interest in him. No explanation was ever given except that 'the Shadowhand will never have you. Not in this life or the next. I will see to that.'

Bren had no idea what that meant. Before all this, the only strange thing in his life were recurring dreams -- and oh they were beautiful things. Arms that were secure and safe around him, tender and gentle but not warm. The soft lilt of a voice that assured him everything would be well, that wherever he went he would be found again. Trent had hated the dreams and had done his best to cast them out of Bren's conscious awareness. Now they were barely shadows, things he could remember the feeling of more than the details. It hurt even trying to recall them, so he didn't.

This past moon Bren had made his escape after he transformed, finally aware enough of himself that he had his chance. He was free. That was the only thought in his mind right now and it repeated in echoed mantra over and over again as he tried to keep himself from spiraling into a breakdown. It had been years since he'd been out, actually out in the world, not kept with Trent Ikithon's control, trapped within the grounds of that monster's manor. He was, after all, Trent's pet project, for whatever reasons the old bastard had. It didn't matter. Back in that direction lay only pain and isolation. He wouldn't go back.

Of course, he didn't really have a plan to go forward either, really. Even before he'd been captured and turned, he hadn't had any family left, few friends, and he'd been out of the world for years now. He managed to ~~steal~~ find some clothes, ill-fitting, a coat that was too big on his underfed frame, a scarf wrapped about his neck. He was a mess, long copper hair in tangles past his shoulders, his beard untrimmed, a frantic fear in wide blue eyes as he tried to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to get his bearings. He couldn't let Trent find him again. This was freedom, and he would not give it up.

A soft meow caught his attention, and he looked up in surprise as a small orange tabby approached him. For the first time in a long while, Bren smiled.] Hello there... [The little creature sniffed his outstretched hand and headbutted his fingers. It was the first kind touch that he'd known in so long, he almost teared up over it.] Well, at least I am not alone anymore. That's comforting.

[Now if he could just figure out what the hell he was going to do, where he was going to go.]

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[The dream was fraying. Caleb grasped at it, holding tightly to what he could, to the new part of his soul that he had been forcibly kept from and finally reached once more now that Essek was close, now that his lover was near enough that even Trent's magic couldn't stand so fully in the way of this pull.

It was too soon to lose this moment though, the comfort of memory, of arms that he had missed so desperately.

Hearing Essek's voice, in that moment realizing that for this moment both of them were aware of the dream in the memory, Caleb turned in his arms, reaching up to set a hand at either cheek, looking into those violet eyes.]

I am here, my love. I am so close. Find me, my Starlight. Find me.

I.. will not give you to death...

[ Essek could feel his eyes wet, the tears that came to his eyes-- oh he knew would be pink with blood; but underneath purple skin it blended so delicately, brought a flush to otherwise colourless purple cheeks. He looked up into Caleb's eyes, into those blue starry depths, love was there that was infinite and real. He wrapped his arms around those shoulders and clung to him for everything that he was, as he leaned up to press a kiss to those lips.

Desperately.

Once he fell backwards, he knew it would be over, that his husband would leave him. He attempted to kiss those lips, to bite at them and to taste the promise within them, but the light around started dto dim, copper turned darker and darker as his wizard dissipated into the darkness. Or perhaps it was himself who was doing so, leaving Caleb to the past so that he could return to the present day.

Essek Thelyss then hit that wall of perfect silence, and he lost his grip on those shoulders in darkness, as he fell down into inky nothingness, where nothing existed but a limitless death where the sun could never penetrate. And he slept. ]

Edited 2023-03-20 01:52 (UTC)

[Caleb reached for him, and in the dream, Bren reached too. As the images faded, as the dream receded, Bren could feel himself coming back, overlapping with this other version of himself, the man he had known himself to be in the dream. Caleb Widogast. The name came to his mind, and even as he started to surface into the waking world, the name sounded like his own.

He woke with a start, sitting up with a scream of,] No! Don't go!

[His voice was still not faded from the air when the pain began, a stabbing through the center of his head, and he groaned, flopping back onto the bed, turning to curl into the fetal position. The pain was not new. It followed the dreams, but it had been months, perhaps longer, since he'd had one. Despite the pain, he couldn't let go of this dream, though already the details of it had begun to fade. He'd dreamed of Lord Thelyss, of arms around him and words of utter devotion. He'd dreamed of a library full of books he'd read and knew by heart.

A soft shaky breath to steady himself, and he forced himself to sit up once more. This was about when he realized he'd made quite a mess of himself, and remembered the sheer overwhelming pleasure from the dream, heat and trust and safety. Fuck. He needed to clean up.

He gingerly climbed from the bed to take care of that. From there it was a simple matter of dressing, finding the clothes that had been shown him the night before. Essek had been right. They fit him well enough, even if they would likely fit better if he spent a while eating regular meals. It would more than due for now.

Bren spent a long few minutes looking at himself in the mirror, as if for the first time. The dream had faded in its details, but enough of it stayed with him that he wondered a bit at how it felt like he was looking at the man he'd been in the dream as much as him, and wondered at himself at the fact that this thought brought an unconscious flicker of a smile over his lips even as another stab of pain tore through his head.

What was going on with him?

He made the bed and spent a while curled up with Frumpkin, telling the cat his current confusion and woes.]

It has been a very long time since I have dreamed of anything but the moon and the fear. And now I am dreaming about the embrace of a man I've only just met. ..though he is a kind man, and a beautiful man, a brilliant man-- and I am getting distracted again.

[Frumpkin meanwhile only butted his head up under Bren's chin and mewed. His wizard was so very close and so very far. Frumpkin fully expected he would have to take this into his own paws eventually.

Standing, Bren set the cat down carefully before ringing the bell that Essek had shown him. From that point his day as a whirlwind -- breakfast (or well, lunch, by the time he'd awoken, and even that was a bit late to be proper) and a tour of most of the grounds, though the library was left for the lord of the Manor to tend to when he woke.

Eventually he was returned to the Amber room once more, to await Essek's arrival as the sun began to set.]

[ The world went on while Essek slept securely within his rooms, that fragile sleep of death that he was powerless to stop or control. A deep abiding heaviness that kept him secure to the bed underneath him, rather more effective than chains. It is why he always had to be on his way to his chambers well before dawn, so that he had the strength to complete that journey. Oftentimes during the newness of it, Caleb would pick him up and carry him to his chambers claiming that he wanted those moments for as long as he could have them.

While Essek slept, the staff managed to investigate this new man who had entered their master's territory. Jester brought lunch and then a light late afternoon snack and stuck around to talk and make sure that Bren ate. Yasha, the groundskeep, took Bren around the estate to show him the area which was rather large and effusive. There was a pop in to the stables to show off the horses and for Bren to be introduced to Beau. Throughout the day, Bren was introduced to all of those who served Lord Thelyss.

And at the spearhead of it all, Frumpkin drapped himself across Bren's shoulders as if he owned this man, If anything, there was no greater vote of confidence than that. The entire staff adored Frumpkin anyways, and the fact that Frumpkin had claimed this man, well it was the staff's pleasure to claim as well.

As twilight approached, Essek could feel his body lighten-- feel gravity as it reversed and pulled him back upward into consciousness. As he rose up, he was contigent of a slow throbbing dull pain in his mind and he placed his hand to his head. A headache required blood to have, he had not had such a thing as a headache in 200 years nearly. Certainly not since his time at Solstryce when he'd been less unalive. He would've lounged there in bed if not for the fact that he remembered he had a guest, so he tries to push this headache back and got himself dressed.

This was not an evening where he had to be anywhere and so he had chosen highly casual clothing. A pair of lounge pants made of soft knit and an off the shoulder linen shirt was chosen and his curls were carefully settled into a bit more control and then he headed toward the Amber Room. If he had a functional heart, it likely would've started to beat fast the nearer he approached. A knock on the door and a quiet Dynasty-toned voice accompanied it. ]

Good evening, Bren-- is this a good time to show you the library? If not, I can come back later.

[ And then Essek stood back and waited, with his hands clasped in front of him and feeling a giddy nervousness that seemed to throb in time with his head, very unhelpfully. ]

[Meeting people was a new and intimidating thing for Bren. But Jester's inescapable exuberance, and the quiet awkward friendliness of Yasha, even he felt his walls starting to crumble a little. Everyone was kind; it seemed entirely too good to be true.

Bren did have a heartbeat still, and his was fluttering fast enough for the both of them when he heard that knock on his door. It was ridiculous really. This was not a date at all. So why had he spent time making sure his hair was tied back neatly, save for the pieces that fell to frame his face? Why had he chosen clothes from his borrowed wardrobe -- a deep rich purple that also reminded him of a certain aristocratic Drow -- that he thought set off the blue in his eyes?

Why could he not stop thinking about a half-remembered dream even if it physically pained him to try to remember it?

He stood, sparing a moment to ease Frumpkin off what appeared to be one of his new favorite places in his lap, and moved towards the door to open it, peeking out with a hopeful look on his face that transiti9oned into pleased relief at it being Essek.]

Good evening, Lord Thelyss. Ja. Of course. Now is perfect. Frumpkin and I had just finished our conversing.

[Show him the library.]

[ 'Good evening, Lord Thelyss' that voice ran in Essek's mind and caused a decided quickening somewhere; it surely could not have been his heart. A breathless quality came over him, even though he had no breath to speak of-- and then the door opened wider and Essek froze for a moment; his eyes capturing the visage before him. A tall man with ginger-red hair, soft smattering of freckles across face, blue eyes that glowed with warmth-- that easy sense of humor.

All of these shouted, Caleb so clearly to him.

It was as if his husband had come back from the dead, the likeness was so very uncanny. Yes, he would nod at what Bren was saying about Frumpkin whom was now making a figure eight around his own feet. It was exceedingly hard not to shove himself into this man's arms and demand to be held. How he managed not to? Well that remained to be seen. ]

In a few weeks time, those clothes will fit you perfectly.

[ Essek's own dynasty voice was husky as he spoke this, and then he slowly reached to tuck a lock of hair behind Bren's ear, as an excuse to just well.. touch him. That warmth tripping across his fingertips as if drawn there by the promise of flames and heat. ]

It is not far, the library. And then you shall have access to as much as you want of it.

[ He then started to walk backwards, taking his hand away as he realized he was overstepping himself, walking backwards until he turned on his heel and motioned for Bren to follow after him. Oh, Bren did not even need to organize those books, all he had to do was stay, stay and let Essek take care of him, he could read to his hearts content and Essek would worship him, much like he had his husband. ]

[Bren's heart had not stopped its racing and looking up at Essek, seeing him in this new casual attire, looking so perfectly at home, softer than the harder angles of the night before. It made him want to reach out and trace his fingers along that bared shoulder, see if all his skin was as chill as his hands had been, and as soft.

A breath and he nodded, glancing down at himself.]

I think so too. They are nicer than anything I've worn before. Thank you for allowing me the use of them.

[It was nice to dress in actual clothes, to wake up warm and not starving. All of this was far too nice really.

But none of that was remotely as nice as the fingers tucking his hair away behind his ear. Bren stilled before half turning into that touch, pulled like a magnet.]

I am eager to see it!

[As Essek stepped back, Bren found himself immediately stepping forward as if to prolong that closeness, but stopped as Essek turned. Instead he fell into step following him along.]

[ Walking at his side was a man who looked so heart-renchingly similar to his husband. Of course he would be similar-- this was his soul and his core self; this man whom had come back but with no memories. A way to do it all over again, this life-- and perhaps do it right this time. It was hard to resist taking the hand in his own as they walked-- and the purple looked so right on Bren, like it suited him.

Down the hallway, Essek led Bren with a careful solemnity; they walked passed rooms and doors, nearly closely the sanctuary of a book-lover's retreat. ]

Have my staff been treating you well, Bren? Have you eaten dinner yet?

[ although Essek was casual and felt underdressed in the moment, he was certainly not going to deny that Bren's more fancy clothing had him feeling a certain way, like he could've easily pulled those garments off and not lost a single beat. The only think missing? A scarf. ]

If you are hungry, I can have something sent up to the library for you.

[ normally not the best guest but Bren's presence brought him into the sheer art of wanting to be a good host for Bren, to make sure that he enjoyed the indulgences that his household could rightly afford. Essek would not curtail the other man's own explorations.

A pause at the double doors leaning into the library, with his hand on the ornate filagreed handle ]

Remmeber that this library is a disorganized mess, if you run away screaming-- I shall not blame you.

[And inside that man -- at his core and locked away by a spell forced into him and meant to shatter his soul before it managed to merge as it was meant to, from fraction pieces into one, this life, his last life -- were all the memories that were by rights his. Caleb, the part of him that was still Caleb, was closer and closer to the surface with Essek nearby. Even death and Trent Ikithon's spell couldn't fully stop the gravity that existed between them. Caleb would have given anything for the touch of that hand in his.

Bren wanted it too, wanted to reach out and tangle his fingers together with Lord Thelyss's, see the way their hands looked intertwined. Those impulses kept slipping into his mind, and they should have been impossible. Trent had given him to Astrid and Eadwulf, had made certain they'd imprint upon each other. But nothing in that bond had ever felt anywhere near as strong as this unmistakable pull towards this still mysterious Drow. And it had never felt so right.

So while Essek led, Bren followed and looked at him with a longing he was not aware of being so obvious in his eyes.]

They have been very kind. And I have eaten more today than I have for the past... well... [It's been a while.] Including another very colorful cupcake. It seems your Miss Jester has an endless supply.

[Bren stopped before the doors and looked up to Essek before laughing.] I'm starting to think that you are deliberately drawing out the suspense now. [A pause before he adds, with a faintly amused note in his voice.] Lord Thelyss.

Perhaps I am.

[ Glancing over at Bren, he faltered a moment as he saw the laughter in those blue eyes. All this man needed was a scarf; he wanted to give him one, to wrap around his shoulders. But that would've been a self-indulgent tragedy, wouldn't it? And Essek would've perpetuated that. He did not want to make this man into his Caleb-- that would never have been right. And this came from a place that did not quite realize how close his husband was to the surface of this man. Honestly, Essek felt like he was wearing his heart in his eyes as well and they managed to filter in little increments toward Bren.

With the greatest of ceremony, he pushed the door open and then stood aside for Bren to enter the room.

And upon stepping inside they would be on the second floor landing of the library. There were four different entrances into this room and the library spanned three floors in it's entirety, books lined the walls all around them though there were also piles of books scattered here and there, also boxes of new books aquired that peppered the room here and there. In the ground floor central was a large fireplace recently lit and a couch, two wing chairs and a chaise set up before it to soak up the warmth.

Windows were scattered here and there, but none that would provide anything more than a nice ambient light to the room, the rest of the lighting was supplemented by candle sconces and a few stained glass votives that shone purple and orange against bookshelves, nothing too glaring-- but the lighting was substantial enough that one could read safely by them without eye strain, especially mortal eyes. This library had been a labour of love for his husband, for them both--

Many wonderful memories were attached to this room, and some of those memories so beautiful that to merely think about them was painful. Essek's fingers gripped upon the balustrade before he glanced over at Bren. ]

As you can see, this is why I said that it may take you a while-- and that you should consider this ah, your only task. There is another smaller library, but it is merely that which my late husband took the Morning Room and converted as his own personal study-- that room holds all of his favorite tomes and I shall take you to see that later.

[ If anyone should see that room, it was Bren-- his husbands reincarnation ]

[Bren stepped inside the open doors and immediately his breath caught. The room was immense, filled with more books than he'd ever had hope of seeing in his lifetime, and oh he had hoped for books and books, as voracious in his pursuit of knowledge as his previous incarnation.]

This is amazing... I've never--

[No, no that was wrong. Memories of the dream the night before surged up and Bren stumbled at the sudden stab of pain in his head, gripping at the rail as well before fighting past the pain and looking around.

His voice was a hushed whisper, half to himself as realization and confusion joined together to nearly bowl him over,] No, no that's wrong. I've been here before.

[With that he all at once moved from Essek's side, walking with a singular direction and purpose, to a particular row, a particular shelf, a very particular book. His hands were shaking as he pulled it from its place, still trembling as he flipped it open, eyes scanning the page and lips repeating the same words another version of himself had spoken in a dream the night before, in answer to a question asked in a familiar voice, What are you reading, Ussta'Chathiu?]

A treatise on the alchemy of souls, on how they may be connected even across the boundaries of lifetimes.

[This was several shades of impossible, and Bren looked several shades paler than usual. Caleb, still very much trapped within him, however, was feeling quite pleased with himself.]

Edited 2023-03-22 00:43 (UTC)

[ This was not exactly what Essek had imagined as he stood there and watched everything that happened at such a fast rate, first the wonder that crossed over that visage, and then the sudden look of pain that followed it, he'd been about to dart forth to steady the other man-- the balustrade after all was not steadying, he would not trust it to bear a grown man's weight with it's latticed ironwork; yet another thing that required updating in this house but it was rare, so rare for him to come into the library for anything more than a quick dart for a book.

And then like a shooting star, Bren was down the stairs and Essek followed after.

All the way until the shelf. A familiar bookshelf that he too had dreamt about. He stood there for a long moment hearing the words that had been spoken in his dream, "A treatise on the alchemy of souls, on how they may be connected even across the bounderies of lifetimes"

He placed his hand to his mouth, and then he glanced upward at the portrait over the fireplace, where his late husband and him sat on a couch together. The artist had captured the two of them with their heads bent over a shared book, two hands holding each side, however Caleb's was wrapped around his shoulder to bring him in close, cheek resting against the top of his head, while Essek was nestled just right.

The outfit that Bren wore was the exact same outfit that Caleb did, minus the scarf. But suddenly he had to turn away, he had to turn away as he pressed his palm to his cheek, he had to calm his heart. He had to calm the fact that Bren was like Caleb reforged into flesh. ]

My late husband, was quite the knowledgeable wizard-- you will find many of his books here, which you are free to read any of them.

[ And then Essek's voice faltered ever so slightly ]

Even that one...

[Bren had not seen the painting yet, had not found himself looking at his own face from a century or more back in the past. He was too busy running his fingers over the paper page before him. He'd seen it before, he'd read this before. Pain stabbed through his head again but he ignored it, or tried to. There as a soft whimper of pain he couldn't quite hold back before he managed a breath to steady himself.

He held the book to his chest tightly, like it was some tether to things he could almost remember, things that felt like they were missing.]

I dreamed about this place. Last night. [Well this morning, hen he'd finally fallen asleep.] About this library and this book. About you.

[Another pained sound and he wavered on his feet, lifting his hands to his head, the book falling out of his hands and landing with a muted thump on the floor. The pain again, trying to shred the dream -- the memory -- out of his head.]

[ Essek had turned away to somehow put himself to the fragile rights that he needed to feel, however the words that Cal... no, Bren, uttered seemed to pull him back down to earth and invariably into this moment and then he looked back at the portrait. The dream, had it been? Had they shared such a tangible link as that? While he did not feel the pain of the headache now, he had woken up with one and so he crossed over to rest his hand underneath Bren's forearm. ]

If it hurts, do not think about it-- I will have, ah.. medicine sent for?

[ concern, even as the closer he got-- the closer came the scent of jasmine and snow, with the barest hint of plum sweetness to add nuance. His fingers kept a steadying hold on Bren while he waited patiently for this to pass. ]

This place is haunted by many ghosts, there is much regret here, I.. what do you require?

[ and underneath skin, he could feel the way that it arched to his touch, he knew Caleb was in there-- however he did not know how to approach without making it wierd and unsettling. He did not want to come on too strong and.. most important, he knew that Bren had been abused in the worst way thus he desired to build up trust to this beautiful man. ]

Edited 2023-03-22 02:02 (UTC)

[Bren looked up at the touch, that small gesture of support of the hand at his forearm. This close he could smell the scent of the other man, light and comforting and home. Before he could stop himself, he tipped forward into his chest, half to keep himself standing and half to breathe in that essence of him like that alone would soothe the pain in his head.]

No, no it's fine. I don't need medicine. The pain is my fault. Master Ikithon doesn't like the dreams. If I forget them, the pain stops.

[The words spilled out of him without much conscious thought behind them, like they were a lesson that he had been taught by rote, over and over and over again. When Bren realized what he was saying, doing, he moved to stand up.]

I'm sorry. I'm all right. Please don't think you've taken in a crazy man

[ Essek's hands moved to rest on the shoulders, to steady the man as he heard the rambling that seemed to scatter like a dropped bag of pearls. He attempted to steady the other man, to ground him in such a way that he could calm down. Caleb had suffered anxiety as well, doubly so when Essek had turned, and it had been everything in Essek's power to assure his husband that he could deal with this development, that his drow heritage was not so dissimilar from that of a vampiric nature.

Then he heard Bren say the one name that Essek had not expected.

Trent-fucking-Ikithon, a bitter vile taste in his mouth as such a cold rage engulfed him. Memories of the man who had an unfortunate obsession with his husband, who had attempted at every opportunity to part them and whom, Essek suspected, had won in the end though the vampire could not precisely prove it. Trent Ikithon whom had been responsible for his own cross-over, not realizing how strong his and Caleb's love had been.

It would've made Trent happy if Caleb had looked upon Essek with revulsion, but unfortunately for him.. he hadn't. ]

I do not think you are crazy.. [ Essek assures softly and in such a gentle voice, his fingers rubbing against those shoulders ] Is this Master Ikithon the one one who has hurt you?

[ the question came dangerously soft, like a supple velvet glove holding a weapon, a knife-- poised to kill. Though, it was not directed at this man before him.

Even more important that he keep Bren close and with him, vitally important. But with that came the realization that Trent would likely be at his doorstep ]

[Those hands were grounding and Bren was grateful for the touch as he pulled himself back together, embarrassed at himself for the outburst in front of his rescuer. What must Essek be thinking about him? He was breathing now, at a more regular pace. At the reassurance, a faint smile pulled at his lips, relieved. It was good then, that Lord Thelyss didn't think him mad, wasn't going to turn him out of the manor.

When that name was repeated back to him though, he went entirely stiff beneath Essek's touch. Oh, oh he shouldn't have said that, should he have? Except no, his host deserved to know, especially because Trent Ikithon was a dangerous man, one who would not hesitate to strike out at someone innocent in the way of what he wanted.

He still hesitated at the question, curious about the tone in that usually melodic, lilting voice, not entirely sure what it meant. It sounded dangerous though.]

I... yes. [A slight nod, the words hard to get out as if something in him was still frightened that Trent would hear, would know.]

It's... I think it's been a few years. He kept me, but he let his guard down. I escaped and--

[This was when realization rammed into Brent like a shockwave.]

He'll come after me. If he finds me here... he's dangerous. He's so dangerous. I'll be putting you in danger. I already am. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I need to go.

[The words were pouring out of him now, in a frantic rush. But the idea of Essek being hurt because of him makes something in him feel deathly cold, a leaden weight in his stomach. No, he won't be the one to bring harm to this man, his rescuer, his mate-- Wait. That one had just snuck in there, but no, it felt right somehow.]

[ This was a thousand-fold worse than Essek had ever expirienced with Caleb. At times his husband could get anxious and all that needed to happen was that he guided him over to a couch, placed himself firmly in his lap and let his own gravity adjust over Caleb's, until the colour returned to those cheeks, until that breathing had returned to something approaching normal. It was because within that framework, Trent had been trying to catch Caleb, within this framwork however, Bren had already been caught.

But the worry, he knew, had never been from Caleb's survival instinct for himself-- it had been from Essek's safety. That, the drow vampire had always known; the seeds that had been sown the night he'd been turned. It had been the wards that were in place, even now Essek knew that a tether had been settled down and was in place even in death. A protective aegis that constantly surrounded the Widogast grounds. ]

You are not going anywhere.

[ Bren would feel himself being wrapped in those arms, prevented from going anywhere. Ah, Essek could feel how that heart ran like a rabbit's, hunted and afraid; that same heart beat seemed to fragrance the blood with desperation born of fear, a scent that had never tempted him when it had come to Caleb. He exerted his body to feel heavy, manually adjusting his weight to wrap around Bren as if it were a blanket of soothing warmth despite the coolness that radiated from him. His hands found the back of Bren's hair, his fingertips curling in the locks like a lover's fond touch. ]

You will find that I am far more powerful than you give me credit for, I will be able to defend against whatever it is that this man brings to bear against me.

[ And to the voice inside, he spoke in his own core language. A language that he knew that his lover inside knew ]

Ori'gato uns'aa sslig'ne dos nin vel'klar Usstan gumash naut t'yin [ Let me defend you now, where I could not then... ]

[Bren gasped softly in surprise as he was suddenly caught up in those arms. He froze for a moment, caught in the middle of his flight response still ready to bolt. But Essek's arms were stronger than he expected, not to be argued with. The fingers sinking into his hair were soothing and Bren could feel some of that terror settle, and he leans into Essek, eyes falling shut.

Essek would be able to stand against Trent Ikithon? In Bren's mind, Trent was his own personal boogeyman, a phantom force whose reach seemed infinite since his own world had been reduced for years to Trent's grasp.

The words that followed, Bren did not speak the language. But Essek was right, Caleb did. Caleb knew and ached with not being able to respond, to tell him that it had not been his fault back then, that he would stand with his love now against this.

Even if Bren didn't know each word, somehow he still felt like he understood what the drow was saying. Some of the tension eased from him slowly, leaning close and pressing his face up against Essek's neck, just breathing in the scent of him, cool and sweet and comforting.]

You smell like home. Why do you smell like home?

[And like his mate, like the one that every ounce of his being was screaming that he belonged with.]

[ His embrace was strong, and it was meant to be comforting. To somehow alleviate the anxiety that the other man felt. He felt the tension slowly leak out of the other man, taking a downward trajectory toward the floor and his fingers danced against that scalp, slowly massaging as he attempted to calm this man in whatever way he was able to. His breath a whisper of shadowed softness against the locks of that hair as Bren buried his face in neck, inhaling whatever he needed to survive. ]

For as long as you need it, this place will be a sanctuary for you.

[ He did not want to explain those words, but they were nevertheless offered to Bren-- honestly and sincerely. He stroked then down the back of Bren's neck, cool fingers to subdue the surge in temperature. While there was cues that most would not read into for Vampires if one was a drow. There were other clues that Essek himself missed.

Caleb had always run warmer than most. So at the surge of output in heat, Essek would not have blinked an eye whatsoever. it had been Caleb's normal and thus it was normal here, the warmth actually felt nice and he had forgotten how much he had craved it within this embrace. ]

And you.. you are very warm.

[Bren remembered how to breathe and slowly, oh so slowly, allowed himself to believe that he could be safe here, that Essek could be safe and not in danger because of him. He didn't want to move, wanted to stay right here, held in arms that felt strangely familiar, like he was where he was meant to be.]

Thank you. I... [His arms would around Essek in turn, holding tightly to the cool body against his own.]

Last night was the first night I have felt safe in a very long time. I am grateful.

[Grateful and full of questions at why so much of this place felt like he had known it before, like a persistent deja vu that refused to ebb, a constant thrumming at the back of his mind.

He lifted his head finally to look at Essek, almost sheepish.]

I run hot, yes... [He was a werewolf, and part of him felt guilty for keeping that from this generous man, but he didn't know how to admit that he was a monster. Even with all the reassurances, a lingering fear that he would be turned away.

Glancing up, his eyes strayed over his shoulder and caught all at once on a portrait. Beautifully painted, lit by the warmth of the fire and lights in this immense library. One figure was Lord Thelyss, clearly, but the other.

Bren's breath caught.] That's... [That was him, he was looking into eyes that he knew, a mirror to another lifetime. His eyes widened further as he realized he was wearing the same clothes as the man in the painting.]

Well, I run a little bit cooler so perhaps we balance each other out.

[ He didn't want to let go of Bren however came the awareness that Bren had stiffened underneath his touch, and then Essek pulled back, he turned to look over his own shoulder and he saw what had caught Bren's eyes and he grew a bit cold, well even colder, he stepped backwards and felt his breathing catch. ]

That is the painting that my late husband had commissioned in commemoration of our wedding, 150 years ago.

[ It had been that long, hadn't it. One hundred and fifty years of waiting for Caleb to return to him-- waiting for so long that he had almost lost hope. The vampire stepped backwards a hairsbreadth as he took in the reaction with something that felt like fear. However he did not want to disturb Bren or alarm him. ]

Your resemblance to my husband is uncanny, I will admit.

[ It would do no good to ignore the elephant in the room, and that was that the two were startlingly alike, both made of bonfires and ink, the sharp tang of cinnamon apples and the sweetest bite of orange. ]

Frumpkin was his familiar... I believe that is why he is drawn to you.

[There was a crossroads here, wasn't there? For a moment Bren wondered if he should be worried, concerned that the reason Essek had taken him in was the resemblance to his late husband as some sort of replacement. But no, that didn't feel right. It was something more than that, and that nearly unheard voice at the back of his mind assured him that he was right.

When he felt Essek start to step back, Bren reached out without thinking about it, searching for his hand, catching their fingers together before glancing over at the Drow with a plaintive expression, a silent plea of don't go far? Stay close?

Then, hand still holding onto Essek's, Bren stepped forward, slowly, closer to where the portrait hung, his eyes searching the painting. He was a smart man, and the puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place. Dreams he shouldn't have been able to dream. An alchemy of souls. The way the hand in his felt like it was where it belonged. That absurd cat.

A name surfaced from in him, on his lips before he could think better of speaking it.]

Caleb Widogast.

[That was right, wasn't it? It felt right. His brow furrowed and he turned back to face Essek.]

It's more than a resemblance, isn't it?

[ Essek had.. feared that too; that Bren would think that he was a stand-in, a replacement for the man above within the entrapment of a memory above the mantleplace, the glow of the firelight and how it cast over the beautiful tableaux of domesticity. He'd stared at that portrait many times, while he ached for that back. But it would never he that again, he knew this irrevocably. Even with Bren dressed up in Caleb's clothing, this man was different, had grown differently due to different circumstances and enviroments. This was Bren, not Caleb.

His hand was caught even as he tried to escape, but he did not move further because of that hand. Rather his cool fingers slid into the warm protection of Bren's calloused hand where it was kept hostage, though not unwelcome. The name uttered, the name of his late husband and he nodded, the movement of his head sending that lock of curled hair that fell to the left, to lightly bounce. ]

Yes, Caleb Widogast was his name and I do not believe it is a coincidence but conversely I know you are not him, you are Bren.

[ He was attempting to formulate his words, to be gentle with them. Very few recieved this gentleness from Lord Thelyss, normally terse and unreadable, he was displaying too much emotion and he felt naked and raw from it. ]

Because this is not coincidence, you will recieve sanctuary for as long as you require it though I would prefer that you allow me to do a bit of research on this.. Ikithon, so I may assess the threat to your safety. I would prefer it if you did not leave until I have ascertained and assured your safety beyond these walls.

[ Essek Thelyss would not press commitment, only time and paired it with the acknowledgement that Bren was his own person, could choose and perhaps it was not wise to choose just yet. He was cautious and he knew that Bren was likely cautious as well with his entire situations. ]

[He should be disturbed by all this, perhaps. But of all the things that had happened in his life, especially these past few years, Essek Thelyss is one of the best things that has found him. He couldn't believe that was untrue. The kindness he'd found here, the safety, those were genuine. The way the staff spoke of their employer was evidence enough of the person that the mysterious lord was.

Then there was that continued pull from the center of his chest to the drow, where all of him desired to be in his arms. So yes, he was Bren, but he got the distinct impression that, somehow, he might be Caleb too.

He could feel that emotion in Essek's voice, in the words, gentle and soothing, and he smiled.]

How could I leave now? I have a library to put in order, do I not?

[And an intense and mysterious lord whose broken heart was beginning to show in small peeks through that perfect icy veneer. Bren had the wild thought that perhaps he could find a way to help him put it back together. The older part of his soul hummed in approval at that. They were in agreement, not so different despite the time and life experiences that separated them.]

And I would miss Frumpkin, of course.

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RIGHT IN THE FEELS

AND IN MINE HOW DARE

Just you wait....

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