Day 12
Cautiously, Draco slipped downstairs. His nightmares had woken him early again, and he didn't want to stay in his room on his last day before going back to Mariah. He'd had enough of it yesterday evening, since they had locked him in before going to this AAA meeting.
At least he'd had enough time to find the name Tristan Namach. He had almost fallen over in shock when he had found a portrait of the vampire in one of the Most Important People Today encyclopedias. He had actually seen the vampire before, the first time he had been to this house. Now, in hind-sight, it was no wonder the whole cottage had thrummed with dark power. That had been the only three-thousand year old vampire, practically the ruler of all vampires, and more or less the sole inventor of bloodmagic!
What reason would such a prominent vampire have to visit Asmodeus in this small cottage?
Wait. Hadn't Asmodeus or the vampire mentioned that Tristan Namach taught their bloodmagic class at Akren? And, from the impression he had gained yesterday, the Ancient had taken a liking to Asmodeus. At least, Draco decided, that was the most plausible reason for the Ancient being mad if Asmodeus had botched his ritual. Because if Namach wasn't interested in Asmodeus, Draco just couldn't imagine a three thousand year old vampire being anything else than gleefully amused about a human blowing themselves up with bloodmagic. Hell, Draco bet he'd even be there to watch the spectacle. Several sources had mentioned that Tristan Namach was incredibly blood-thirsty and incredibly insane. Incredibly talented, too, but simply too dangerous.
Some of Draco's nightmares this night hadn't featured his usual torture or run-from-the-big-bad-wolf scenarios, but rather vivid descriptions of the slaughters the uncrowned King of Vampires had committed over the course of centuries. A change of pace, as far as Draco's dreams were concerned, but not necessarily a welcome one.
The next shock had been almost as bad – the next pages of the vampire section in Most Influential Figures of our Time had been dedicated to Cyala Ateres, second oldest vampire in existence. And, of course, there had been a picture of her, and he had recognized her, too, as the woman that had been there his first time.
At least her presence had been somewhat explicable. Draco wasn't a hundred percent sure, but he thought he'd heard Asmodeus refer to the dark-haired vampire as an Ateres. It would make sense that the family head took an interest in where and with whom the children spent their time.
And Mariah's tension then had been explained, too. Draco had only had to rifle through a few more pages of the encyclopedia, and voila, three whole pages on her. By then, he had already been numb from shock, so he hadn't flinched too much at her age. Almost two millennia. But, seeing as she was considerably younger than Tristan Namach and Cyala Ateres, and taking into account what he had gathered about vampiric society, she'd had to be careful not to offend the other two because they could reduce her to ash before she could blink.
At least her obsession over anything even remotely related to dragons had been something Draco had already known about her.
After that, Draco had furiously studied the rest of the vampire section of the book to at least make sure he knew the most important figures – he didn't want to get any such unpleasant surprises again. His survival depended on Mariah wanting to keep him around. And embarrassing her in front of higher-ranked vampires would be one of the quickest ways to a severely more unpleasant fate.
Another two books on vampire society and vampiric abilities had only reinforced that belief. Those power games almost reminded him of the constant politics between pureblood families. Since servants also represented the family to the outside, they had to know how to act appropriately.
Was that what Mariah was trying to do with him? Mould him into a servant that she wouldn't have to be ashamed of when someone else saw him?
Yesterday evening, he had been almost completely convinced that this was the case. Today, in the day-light, he wasn't so sure anymore. On the other hand, he couldn't find any better explanation for Mariah's actions and words, and those two weeks here at Asmodeus' cottage would fit right in. So he would try to be a bit more open-minded when he went back to Mariah's. And try not to cower in front of every vampire he encountered.
The light beneath the door to the living room didn't really surprise him, but what did surprise him was that all three of them were present, with the two vampires leering at him. Briefly he froze in the doorway, then gathered all of his courage and stepped in. He hoped that he was doing the right thing and that Asmodeus' presence would keep the two vampires at least somewhat in check.
As a small act of defiance, he didn't sit down at his customary place on the floor next to the couch but remained standing.
The dark-haired vampire fixed him with a lazy glance. "We are allowed to erase his memory before Mariah takes him back right?"
Draco paled and gritted his teeth. He didn't want anyone to mess with his memory; that neon green potion was bad enough. Memory operations always were a dangerous subject, as a simple mistake could cause severe mental damage.
He had told himself to react to everything with an open mind, but there were some lines he wasn't willing to cross. Not a very good start to his day of New Resolutions.
Asmodeus rolled his eyes. "Does it really matter if she knows what your most recent set of rituals was?"
"Yes."
"Why? Embarrassed that my suggestion of planned electrocution worked?" Asmodeus smirked.
Draco barely refrained from goggling; he hadn't even realized the vampire had already done that ritual. And that he had actually done what Asmodeus had suggested…
The vampire growled. "Shut up, Thunder. I'm more concerned about someone else reading his mind if she sells him."
Draco flinched slightly and instinctively backed away when Daray got up and drew his wand. One hand of Draco's slipped into his pocket where his own wand was located. However, he still hesitated to draw it because, over the course of sever painful sparring sessions, he had learned that he was no match for the vampire. Any sign of rebelliousness probably would get him sold, anyway.
And being sold was exactly what he wanted to avoid, having come to the conclusion that Mariah was one of the nicest vampires around after yesterday's readings. And also one of the highest-ranking, since she had somehow managed to get several of the oldest ones to support her in her position of neutrality.
But he didn't want anyone messing with his mind, either…
"Now?" Asmodeus sounded non-plussed, but didn't make a move to stop the vampire.
Despite his intention to keep his calm in the vampire's presence, Draco felt fear and terror rise in his throat. What a great time for Asmodeus to decide that Draco didn't need help.
The dark-haired vampire nodded. "Yes. That way I have time to repeat it several times before she gets here this evening."
"You realize that since he belongs to Mariah your magics might just bounce off him?" Asmodeus asked
Draco had drawn back against the wall and was finding no more way to retreat. He never took his eyes off the vampire's wand.
Daray paused. "Good point. Even if she does it unconsciously her magic is still all over him."
"You might wind up erasing everything, I doubt she'd approve if he came back mindless." Asmodeus warned.
Panicked, Draco looked around for a way out. If even Asmodeus thought the whole thing was dangerous, the chance of the spell misfiring had to be really high. And Draco didn't want to end up mindless, which would end up with him being sold, which would mean…
"There are ways around that." That husky growl was decidedly too near for comfort.
The vampire backed Draco against the wall and made a grab for him, like during the first week when he had drunk Draco's blood. Was he going to feed on him while erasing his memory at the same time? No, he remembered that drinking blood gave vampires access to memories, and he'd use that to – but he didn't want anyone messing around with his memories, especially not while feeding from him, and –
Completely panicked, Draco reeled back and punched the vampire in the face.
The punch threw the vampire out of his immediate personal space, and Draco's thoughts slowed enough to let him catch up with just what he had done. He slumped backwards, absolutely terrified as to what the vampire was going to do now. The vampire had been bad enough with his rules that were mere codes of conduct – what was he going to do with physical assault? Was he going to tell Mariah that he was untrainable? That he had to be punished?
The vampire shook his head for a moment, blinked at Draco, and started laughing. It was a deep bellowing laughter that completely startled Draco because it wasn't evil or malicious, but humorous.
It startled Draco so badly that he barely caught himself before he fell over.
"The little mortal has some spine after all!" The vampire laughed, clapping Draco on the shoulder and dragged him towards one of the unoccupied arm chairs. "Good punch!"
Say what?
The vampire abandoned him in favor of the couch and flopped down languidly. Draco looked back and forth between the three of them, utterly confused. Asmodeus smiled and waved at the couch table where there still was some breakfast left. Pancakes, bacon, eggs. And no blood in sight.
"I was hoping you'd do that. It really is the only way to get him to stop." Asmodeus explained.
Asmodeus had wanted him to punch the vampire?
"Y-you're not angry?" Draco asked cautiously, not quite knowing what to make of the sorcerer's statement.
"No, of course not. The whole point of bringing you here was getting you to stand up for yourself a little." Asmodeus explained gently.
He what? Huh?
And just why had he never wondered why Mariah had sent him here? It certainly hadn't been to do work for them, or even to act as blood donor. And he doubted that it was normal for vampires to send their new slaves practically on vacation when they weren't even fully trained. So could that really be the truth?
If so, the remaining question would be: why go through so much trouble for a single human? What was she planning to do with him?
"He was desperately in need of a good punch or two." Silas agreed.
The other vampire wasn't angry, either? And, looking back at the dark-haired one, Draco saw that he was still laughing.
All of a sudden, the two of them didn't look that menacing anymore, and he could maybe even understand why Asmodeus had become friends with them. And the punch - was that what Asmodeus had meant during his first week, when Draco had asked him how he could live in one house with two vampires and not fear for his life? That, despite being weaker than them, Asmodeus had managed to gain their respect by standing up for himself?
Well, if he really thought about it, Draco wouldn't have much respect for someone who continuously cowered away from him, either. Just remembering the house-elves from his early childhood almost turned his stomach. To think that Draco himself hadn't behaved much differently from those exceedingly servile creatures…
On the other hand, he supposed, most of his guesses as to Mariah's intentions had been confirmed now. And it looked far less bleak than he would have imagined in his wildest dreams even a week ago.
Smiling slightly to himself, Draco sat down and helped himself to the plate of eggs, not asking for permission. If he wanted to be treated like a thinking, human being, he'd have to act like one first. Not cower away in mindless fear and ask permission for even the slightest things.
"Given the potions he's been taking it won't matter if you don't erase his memory, he can't say anything to anyone anyway." Asmodeus reminded Daray, a smile twitching around the corners of his mouth.
Draco raised an eyebrow. Then…
The vampire looked at Asmodeus exasperatedly. "Why didn't you just remind me of that in the first place?"
"I was hoping you would push him far enough that he'd fight back." Asmodeus said.
Huh. Everything during those two weeks had been orchestrated to help Draco interrupt that continuous cycle of fear and nightmares and exhaustion he had been caught in.
Of course, he still thought Asmodeus was slightly off his rocker. Who in his right mind would lock someone with a deathly phobia of blood and vampires in a house together with an archetypical vampire? He didn't doubt for a moment that that had all been Asmodeus' doing.
On the other hand – it had worked, hadn't it?
Draco ate silently, not looking up at any of them, though he sneaked occasionally glances at the vampire when they weren't looking. So this was what the vampire was like when not in full 'scare-the-poor-mortal' mode. He was almost… well, acting human. Except for his sadistic tendencies, he was actually quite normal, talking with his friends and relaxing. And, to think of it, Draco had seen such a drive to prey on those weaker than them in other Death Eater children, too.
So why exactly had Draco been so scared of him?
Yes, the vampire was strong enough to kill him in one move. So was Asmodeus, and Draco had viewed Asmodeus more as a safe-haven than a danger. The vampire was slightly insane. So was Asmodeus, especially when lightening was crackling between his fingers. The vampire fed on him. Well, at least that was a better reason to bleed him than merely cutting and slicing him for the sadistic pleasures of the Dark Lord.
And Draco hadn't just thought that. He liked his blood where it was, thank you very much, no matter how just the cause was.
"Mariah will be by a little after noon." Asmodeus told Draco, who startled and blinked rapidly, having been off in his own world.
The thought of what was going to happen to him inspired some of the old terror in him, but Draco firmly told himself to keep his calm. Respect, and all that. "Ah. Do…do you really think she'd sell me?"
"I don't know. I know she's looking for research assistants with working brains who are interested in dragons, and that she has a history of freeing slaves who work well. If you can make her think you're worth training she won't sell you." Asmodeus said slowly.
It took everything Draco had not to inhale sharply. Mariah had a history of freeing slaves? She wasn't looking for someone to be a blood donor and clean her house, but for a research assistant? To research dragons?
Yes, his thoughts had already gone in that direction, but to hear it said out loud? Too good to be true.
"You'd better hope she doesn't sell you. Farov's already said he's interested, and he is one sick bastard." Silas said.
Draco had to remind himself to not react to that statement. Just because his perception of them had changed, that didn't mean the vampires had changed. They were still sadistic enough to enjoy tormenting him. And by now, they pretty much knew where his weak spots were.
"I've heard his after-dinner shows are very nice." Daray retorted. "There's a reason why Hadrian usually lets him provide most of the entertainers at any meetings."
Hell, vampires weren't just like the old pure-blood families with their politics. They had tastes like the Death Eaters, too.
"Lord Hadrian keeps him under control, sometimes. But Farov doesn't free his slaves, unless Lord Hadrian makes him."
"I doubt you'd actually find those shows amusing Daray." Asmodeus said. "I've heard from a few alumni what goes on there. I think even you would protest some of it. Farov has to be careful of who's in the audience. Last time he forgot to, someone tried to kill him under the argument of his degrading the human species."
Urgh, there were vampires that bad? Slowly, his composure began to crumble, and he had to firmly tell himself that Mariah wasn't like that, and that he hopefully wouldn't give her any reason to sell him. And then, maybe in a few years, he could be free again.
All in all, a much better fate than what would have awaited him as a Death Eater.
Slowly, he finished his breakfast and started to clean up the table. The two vampires briefly paused in their conversation to look at him, but neither one said anything. He hadn't even realized when Asmodeus had left.
There still were a few hours left until noon. So what was he going to do until then?
___________________
"Draco."
Startled, Draco turned away from the thestral he had been petting absent-mindedly. By trial and error, he had felt his way until he was at half-point of the path between the cottage and the greenhouse, feeling a sudden need to be outside. The thestral had sidled up to him not long after and had actually let him pet it.
The female voice had already prepared him somewhat, but he still had to fight to keep his new resolutions and revelations fresh in his mind. He took in her waxen-looking skin and the thousands of dreadlocks. Showtime.
"Yes, ma'am?"
He forced himself to look at her and not flinch away from her stern gaze. She raised an eyebrow, and he bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep calm.
Finally, she shook her head disbelievingly, muttering to herself. "Well, what do you know. Rahkesh's ploy actually worked." She focused back on Draco. "You have everything?"
Draco nodded, showing her the shrunken back-pack with which he had arrived at the cottage. "I am ready, ma'am."
"Good." She touched his shoulder, and with a slight feeling of disorientation, Draco found himself back in the entrance hall of her mansion.
The black and white marble was almost like coming home.
"Follow me."
Draco hadn't even noticed her hand slip away, but he quickly hurried after her. She went to her quarters, and Asmodeus' earlier words once again stood out in his mind: dragon researcher. Under that light, the countless dragon paraphernalia were quite explicable. The dragon teeth in a bowl on the table. The dragon pictures on the walls – all of them very realistically drawn. The preserved dragon claw between the dragon books on the bookshelf. The dragon skull hanging from the ceiling. The dragon ornaments on virtually every wooden surface. The dragon torch-holders. The enameled dragon scales.
"Come here."
She stood in the center of the room, beckoning to him with her finger. With only brief hesitation, he stood in front of her. When she held his shoulder with one hand and bent his head to the side with the other, he clenched his fists to remind himself that she was his Master, but didn't put up any resistance otherwise.
The bite came quickly, without any of the psychological games Daray had always worked into it. And, as an additional plus-point, there was no hungry vampire bat around.
For the first time, he didn't fight the relaxing feeling spreading through him.
It was over as quickly as it had begun, and after a brief lick to close the wounds, she stepped away from him again. The whole operation had felt impersonal, natural, completely different from the ordeal it had been before.
Had his new attitude really changed so much for him?
She studied him with a thoughtful look, and he kept his eyes between her shoulders and her chin. He knew she was judging him, based on the information she had gotten from his blood. He was quite relieved that he had actually found the courage to read up on vampires, their abilities, and their society yesterday evening.
He found that knowing what they were capable of, and, more importantly, what they were not capable of, made it quite a bit easier to interact with them.
"Very well," she finally nodded. "You can go back to your quarters and unpack. I expect you here within an hour. I need someone to help me catalogue a few new artifacts."
Draco released a breath he hadn't known he had held. For now, she wasn't going to sell him. She hadn't even taken his wand away. "Yes, ma'am."
With a short bow, he excused himself and left the room. Perhaps this was going to work after all.
He never saw the slight smile curling around the edges of her mouth.
~The End (for now)~
A/N: Well, this is the end of the two weeks. In case you're bit confused about Day 12 already being the end of two weeks – count the prologue and Day 0, and you indeed have 14 days.
Thank you very much to all of you who reviewed and encouraged me. And don't forget – if Miranda Flairgold hadn't written all of the surrounding universe, this (comparatively) small story wouldn't exist.
The 'for now' qualifier is a hint that I might be thinking of something more (i. e. the Conclave), but that first has to get a decent plot, then to be written, then to be approved by Miranda Flairgold, and only then I can think of posting it. And that will probably take quite some time – the only reason why I updated so quickly was because everything was already written and I only did some last-minute polishing.
Well, anyway, see you later, alligator
Sakiku