AU Fanfiction: Sail Away
Title: Sail Away
AU: Victorian Vampire AU
Characters: Hope Chandler, Atticus Bergenson, small cameo by Eva Stinson.
Rating: G
Pairings: None
Warnings: Vampires! Beware! And blood drinking, which might skeeve some people out.
Author’s Notes: Well, here’s a little more background on this whole vampire verse and sort of moving things forward. Maybe. I’m just making things up as I go. Soon, hopefully, I’ll toss in some more characters and a little more action. I needed to throw this one in before more awesome-ness though. Also, you should be able to figure out who Hope's late husband is by now.
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In all honesty, Hope was a terrible vampire and she didn’t see herself getting better at it even with a good teacher like Atticus. She stared at the cup in her hand, looking at her reflection in the blood. She has to drink it, she knew that and she did hunger for it but blood still didn’t appeal to her. Taking a deep breath she pinched the bridge of her nose and then downed the whole cup in as few swallows as she could manage.
Deep down, her vampiric nature purred to life while she struggled with the taste of beef blood on her tongue. One part of her might like it, but she had never really liked red meat as a human and that taste preference had carried over with her.
“Here.” Atticus slid a different cup over to her. This one had wisps of steam rising from it and smelled vaguely minty. “It should help clear your pallet.”
“Thank you,” she managed while fighting down her human gag reflex. She picked up the tea and drank it down just as quick as she had with the blood. It did exactly as he promised, chasing the last of the blood taste from her mouth and leaving only a pleasant minty aftertaste. She sighed.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” she said as she sat back in her chair. She didn’t normally slouch but the blood was beginning to take effect, making her feel comfortable, stated. Atticus called it the blood stupor.
“Give it time, dear. You’ll adjust.”
She sighed again and tried to relax into the stupor like Atticus could. He had his eyes half-closed, a pleasant little smile on his face with his hands folded over his chest. His fingers seemed to tap out the rhythm for whatever song was playing in his head. He was used to this, happy with his vampire nature. She couldn’t imagine ever managing that sort of easy acceptance. Her late husband always said she was too high strung.
A sudden thought occurred to her and she sat up, “Atticus, how did you meet my husband?”
Atticus opened his eyes a fraction wider, perhaps a little surprised. “Oh, that. He tried to kill me.”
Hope gaped. “What?”
He chuckled and opened his eyes, still smiling pleasantly at her. “This was hundreds of years ago, mind you, about the time I was… converted. My sire didn’t stay to couch me through those first stages and I was a bit of a… wild thing.”
He said it so calmly, so easily she couldn’t see him as a wild thing. Then she remembered how he had lunged at her, how his eyes had blazed brilliant blue and he had gone straight for her neck. Well, maybe she could see him as a wild thing.
“Charles was sent after me to execute me.”
“He was a hunter?”
“No, no.” Atticus shook his head and took a breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not explaining myself well through the stupor. Back when I was bit, there was a vampire government, a sort of parliament for vampires. It was to take care of troublesome vampires and hunters. Your late husband was one of their enforcers.”
Her mind reeled as she tried to reconcile this information with her memories of the gentle, soft hearted man she had married. She couldn’t remember any signs of violence from Charles ever, even when he had been angry.
“You must be having me on,” she said, looking at him skeptically. “My husband…”
“You didn’t know your husband back then. My dear, you weren’t even born yet. Your grandparents weren’t even born. This was… in the 1500s.”
“Obviously he didn’t kill you.”
“Obviously. He saved me instead and let me tell you, his partner hated it.”
“Partner?”
Atticus nodded lazily. “Enforcers always worked in pairs. Just in case. His partner wanted me dead. What was that fellow’s name… Marcus… no Magnus. That’s it, very Roman, I remember that.”
“Magnus?” Hope blinked in surprised. “Magnus Lehnsherr?”
“I never did get his last name.” Atticus shrugged. “I was too busy try not to die. Why? Do you know him?”
“Every time I went to Charles to New York we had dinner with him. Charles said he was his oldest, most trusted friend.”
“Most trusted?” Atticus suddenly seemed to shake off the stupor, looking alert and very interested. “How trusted?”
“I, uh, never pressed for details but I know they spent many nights staying up, discussing things. They wrote constantly. He came to the funeral, he was even in the will.”
She remembered Magnus as a very imposing figure with silver hair and cold gray eyes. He had solemnly kissed her hand and asked if there was anything he could do for her. While he had been kind, she never felt any friendly warmth from him. She had turned down his offer, politely.
“What did he get?”
“All of Charles’ New York holdings, since he lives there and really I have no head for business.”
“That’s it!” Atticus leapt to his feet, then staggered as his injured thigh still wasn’t healed enough to fully take his weight. While vampires were hard to kill, they healed very slowly. The crossbow bolt had done a lot of damage in their encountered with the hunters.
“Careful,” she scolded as she rushed over to help him stay up.
“It’s fine, just hand be my cane.”
She huffed at his stubbornness but ducked down for the simple wood cane he used to get around. “Can you tell me what caused you to risk your recovery?”
“We never found anything here on the cure and we never would have even if Jack hadn’t been so kind as to burn your house down,” Atticus said as he steadied himself with the cane.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m betting Charles moved everything to New York for Magnus to look after. He made the formula, he didn’t need to keep notes.” He stepped around her and started for the door, limping quickly.
“What?” She jogged to catch up to him. “How can you know? That’s a very big assumption.”
“But it makes sense. You heard Wade, didn’t you? There are hunter’s guilds everywhere here. Sending the information to New York would protect it.”
“Well, what about the hunters in New York?”
“Vampires are the least of their troubles. Werebeasts dominate America, have for centuries. There are barely any vampires there so the hunters don’t bother. It’s brilliant, really.”
Atticus walked out of the room and limped down the hall to the stairs. “Eva!” he yelled, leaning over the railing. “Eva! We need two tickets to New York!”
“What?” Eva Stinson, a vampire and the caretaker of the safe house appeared at the base of the stairs, glaring up at Atticus. She had been the one to patch up his leg. “What are you on about now?”
“Steamship tickets,” Atticus explained calmly, “We’re going to America.”
“Atticus, this is a very big guess,” Hope said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What if you’re wrong?”
“Then we’ll need two tickets back to London.” He plucked her hand off his shoulder and held it in his, squeezing tightly. “My dear, we’ll never know unless we go and honestly I was getting tired of London. It’s always so gray here.”
She just couldn’t believe his confidence but what choice did she have? She wasn’t ready to be left on her own and she wasn’t ready to let him go. He had gotten her through so much so far and well, there was something charming about his company.
“Alright,” she sighed. “I guess I’m going home.”
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AU: Victorian Vampire AU
Characters: Hope Chandler, Atticus Bergenson, small cameo by Eva Stinson.
Rating: G
Pairings: None
Warnings: Vampires! Beware! And blood drinking, which might skeeve some people out.
Author’s Notes: Well, here’s a little more background on this whole vampire verse and sort of moving things forward. Maybe. I’m just making things up as I go. Soon, hopefully, I’ll toss in some more characters and a little more action. I needed to throw this one in before more awesome-ness though. Also, you should be able to figure out who Hope's late husband is by now.
---
In all honesty, Hope was a terrible vampire and she didn’t see herself getting better at it even with a good teacher like Atticus. She stared at the cup in her hand, looking at her reflection in the blood. She has to drink it, she knew that and she did hunger for it but blood still didn’t appeal to her. Taking a deep breath she pinched the bridge of her nose and then downed the whole cup in as few swallows as she could manage.
Deep down, her vampiric nature purred to life while she struggled with the taste of beef blood on her tongue. One part of her might like it, but she had never really liked red meat as a human and that taste preference had carried over with her.
“Here.” Atticus slid a different cup over to her. This one had wisps of steam rising from it and smelled vaguely minty. “It should help clear your pallet.”
“Thank you,” she managed while fighting down her human gag reflex. She picked up the tea and drank it down just as quick as she had with the blood. It did exactly as he promised, chasing the last of the blood taste from her mouth and leaving only a pleasant minty aftertaste. She sighed.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” she said as she sat back in her chair. She didn’t normally slouch but the blood was beginning to take effect, making her feel comfortable, stated. Atticus called it the blood stupor.
“Give it time, dear. You’ll adjust.”
She sighed again and tried to relax into the stupor like Atticus could. He had his eyes half-closed, a pleasant little smile on his face with his hands folded over his chest. His fingers seemed to tap out the rhythm for whatever song was playing in his head. He was used to this, happy with his vampire nature. She couldn’t imagine ever managing that sort of easy acceptance. Her late husband always said she was too high strung.
A sudden thought occurred to her and she sat up, “Atticus, how did you meet my husband?”
Atticus opened his eyes a fraction wider, perhaps a little surprised. “Oh, that. He tried to kill me.”
Hope gaped. “What?”
He chuckled and opened his eyes, still smiling pleasantly at her. “This was hundreds of years ago, mind you, about the time I was… converted. My sire didn’t stay to couch me through those first stages and I was a bit of a… wild thing.”
He said it so calmly, so easily she couldn’t see him as a wild thing. Then she remembered how he had lunged at her, how his eyes had blazed brilliant blue and he had gone straight for her neck. Well, maybe she could see him as a wild thing.
“Charles was sent after me to execute me.”
“He was a hunter?”
“No, no.” Atticus shook his head and took a breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not explaining myself well through the stupor. Back when I was bit, there was a vampire government, a sort of parliament for vampires. It was to take care of troublesome vampires and hunters. Your late husband was one of their enforcers.”
Her mind reeled as she tried to reconcile this information with her memories of the gentle, soft hearted man she had married. She couldn’t remember any signs of violence from Charles ever, even when he had been angry.
“You must be having me on,” she said, looking at him skeptically. “My husband…”
“You didn’t know your husband back then. My dear, you weren’t even born yet. Your grandparents weren’t even born. This was… in the 1500s.”
“Obviously he didn’t kill you.”
“Obviously. He saved me instead and let me tell you, his partner hated it.”
“Partner?”
Atticus nodded lazily. “Enforcers always worked in pairs. Just in case. His partner wanted me dead. What was that fellow’s name… Marcus… no Magnus. That’s it, very Roman, I remember that.”
“Magnus?” Hope blinked in surprised. “Magnus Lehnsherr?”
“I never did get his last name.” Atticus shrugged. “I was too busy try not to die. Why? Do you know him?”
“Every time I went to Charles to New York we had dinner with him. Charles said he was his oldest, most trusted friend.”
“Most trusted?” Atticus suddenly seemed to shake off the stupor, looking alert and very interested. “How trusted?”
“I, uh, never pressed for details but I know they spent many nights staying up, discussing things. They wrote constantly. He came to the funeral, he was even in the will.”
She remembered Magnus as a very imposing figure with silver hair and cold gray eyes. He had solemnly kissed her hand and asked if there was anything he could do for her. While he had been kind, she never felt any friendly warmth from him. She had turned down his offer, politely.
“What did he get?”
“All of Charles’ New York holdings, since he lives there and really I have no head for business.”
“That’s it!” Atticus leapt to his feet, then staggered as his injured thigh still wasn’t healed enough to fully take his weight. While vampires were hard to kill, they healed very slowly. The crossbow bolt had done a lot of damage in their encountered with the hunters.
“Careful,” she scolded as she rushed over to help him stay up.
“It’s fine, just hand be my cane.”
She huffed at his stubbornness but ducked down for the simple wood cane he used to get around. “Can you tell me what caused you to risk your recovery?”
“We never found anything here on the cure and we never would have even if Jack hadn’t been so kind as to burn your house down,” Atticus said as he steadied himself with the cane.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m betting Charles moved everything to New York for Magnus to look after. He made the formula, he didn’t need to keep notes.” He stepped around her and started for the door, limping quickly.
“What?” She jogged to catch up to him. “How can you know? That’s a very big assumption.”
“But it makes sense. You heard Wade, didn’t you? There are hunter’s guilds everywhere here. Sending the information to New York would protect it.”
“Well, what about the hunters in New York?”
“Vampires are the least of their troubles. Werebeasts dominate America, have for centuries. There are barely any vampires there so the hunters don’t bother. It’s brilliant, really.”
Atticus walked out of the room and limped down the hall to the stairs. “Eva!” he yelled, leaning over the railing. “Eva! We need two tickets to New York!”
“What?” Eva Stinson, a vampire and the caretaker of the safe house appeared at the base of the stairs, glaring up at Atticus. She had been the one to patch up his leg. “What are you on about now?”
“Steamship tickets,” Atticus explained calmly, “We’re going to America.”
“Atticus, this is a very big guess,” Hope said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What if you’re wrong?”
“Then we’ll need two tickets back to London.” He plucked her hand off his shoulder and held it in his, squeezing tightly. “My dear, we’ll never know unless we go and honestly I was getting tired of London. It’s always so gray here.”
She just couldn’t believe his confidence but what choice did she have? She wasn’t ready to be left on her own and she wasn’t ready to let him go. He had gotten her through so much so far and well, there was something charming about his company.
“Alright,” she sighed. “I guess I’m going home.”
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