At Fang's Point by Sandyg

VIGGO

This mocking night made me feel grim, stupid and needy. All I wanted to do was return to my room and drink myself senseless. My mind pounded one ugly thought into me; Orlando must hate me. He must despise me for what I had.wait. Who hovered at the next alley's entrance? Dear God. Could it be.as I froze in shock my tired eyes widened in amazement. So I hadn't gone insane! "Orlando!"

My legs instinctively reacted. As I raced into the dank alley my feet decided such haste didn't suit them. My gallop nearly tumbled me into a heaped refuse pile; I skidded, staggered then my hands slammed the rough stone wall and miraculously broke my fall. Ouch. Fool. Slow down, you idiot. Must rest. Harsh breaths ripped from my aching chest. Hell, all my drinking surely compromised, yes, admit it, Viggo, my middle-aged abilities. If my body was a temple then I had openly defiled my living flesh. Breathe. Focus. Stop running. Bah, I didn't fancy a broken arm or worse.

During my deep breathing exercise my frantic gaze scanned the foggy darkness. Wait, had I finally lost my mind? But I felt Orlando. I knew I had seen his unmistakable face! Where had my lover gone? Nothing moved in the fetid alley, not a rat, a cockroach. nothing. An agonized scream almost tore free; wait, was that, yes, suddenly a darker shadow abruptly appeared at the alley's lower end. The shadow slowly moved toward me.

"Orlando?" I called his name yet remained where I stood. The street lamp's feeble glow ended just a foot away from my garbage-slick leather shoes. Although I desperately wanted knowledge I refused to step into the inky shadows.

His melodious voice suddenly sounded at my side. His voice provided a subtle caress against my fog-damp cheek. "Viggo."

I whirled and stared into Orlando's beloved face. This was reality. My lover finally stood before me! My overjoyed gaze hungrily devoured his delicate features framed by his wavy, mahogany hair. Trust my rebellious Orlando to affect such artistic hair in this age of masculine control. My denied hands ached to grasp those long, silky lengths. My lips wanted to taste every last inch. God, to see those unique, glowing red-brown eyes, that adorable, slightly crooked nose, the bend courtesy of a horseback riding accident. yes, ahh, I remembered watching my reckless cousin fall from his alarmed horse. My strong arms had cradled poor battered Orlando back to our seaside summer home and salvation. During that summer Orlando had been 16, I 28. I think he loved me even then. In those days the proper, sensible part of me dared not admit how I felt about my beautiful yet daring cousin. Wrong. Very, very wrong.

Finally those oft-kissed full lips hovered before me and not merely in my anguished memory or in a tattered photo. My gaze adored Orlando's exotic beauty over and over again. I hadn't gone mad. His physical perfection still existed for me. "Orlando, I'm not insane, it is you... my Orlando!" My hands automatically grasped his bony shoulders, ahh, my large fingers captured their slender grace so well. As I massaged my lover's shoulders his long hair swept over my knuckles. "You sweet demon, you knew I searched for you, you knew!"

A torn sigh escaped Orlando's full, tense lips. Somehow his ethereal gaze acted like a frightened humming bird, yes, I swore my lover stared at me yet he never directly met my own gaze. His gaze darted around my form with alarming swiftness. The effect felt terribly disconcerting. "Viggo, when I accessed our trust fund I knew if you still cared you'd look for me. I knew nothing definite until yesterday, until I felt you explore that horrid alley I mockingly call home. My brave, loving Viggo, tell me, why couldn't you have left me alone? Why did you bother looking for me?"

Although joy raced through me my face still flinched with wild anger. My punishing fingers gripped Orlando's shoulders with greater force. "What? You dare ask me that wicked question? After how you left me alone? Orlando, I swear you don't understand me at all."

To my surprise instead of growing angry in turn Orlando merely smiled and nodded with his elegant sadness. "I understand you better than you think, dear cousin, which is why I am surprised you hunted for me." Sensing my confusion Orlando held up his long fingers and shook his head. "Forgive me, Viggo, I didn't mean to sound so callous. No. But.wait, I don't want to argue with you in this filth: the evil setting ill suits you. You aren't safe in this morass and I want you to leave. Where are you staying, my love?" Orlando's soft words chilled me; his natural, instinctive use of "my love" flayed my rapidly thudding heart. We studied each other until Orlando expectantly cocked his head, he waiting for me to answer his simply query. I finally stammered out a coherent answer. "At the Claridge, but Orlando, I- I- Orlando, please... "

My passionate words halted. My desperate hand slid from Orlando's shoulder, then my flesh swiftly caressed his icy cold cheek. To my shock Orlando hissed like a coiled viper. Unnatural speed jerked his body away from me; once again I thought of a darting humming bird. How did he do.my right hand feebly hovered in the air where Orlando's beloved face once took shape. My left hand still thought it clutched Orlando's boyish shoulder until my surprised fingers curled on nothing. Oh my God.

As my wide eyes blinked in astonishment my fingers fell helplessly against my thighs. Orlando's swift movement, his cold, terribly pale skin, his.what the hell was going on here? My logical mind latched onto one thought. "Orlando, my Orlando, you are ill. That whore claimed you made this other whore sick; oh, lover, you're so cold and pale. Your skin used to look like burnished honey. Please, what is wrong with you?"

A stony look etched onto Orlando's sculpted features. "So that's how you found me. A whore?"

"Not exactly. A young cretin who works in a flophouse watches your appalling alley as sport. He looked for you to appear and when he heard of my search he went to my detective and supplied me with the information."

Now Orlando's wide dark stare swept past me then he shook his head. "Extraordinary. How ironic. Discovered by a clever street urchin. Ahh, he'd best avoid me now. I don't take kindly to young spies."

"I gave the lad a reward for supplying me information. Now that I see your precious face I will thank him in my prayers and try giving him even more money." My strong voice dropped into a pleading caress. "Please, Orlando, please don't tell me to leave you now! I need to know so much about you. Lover, it's been four years since I've seen you, felt you, adored you-don't turn me away. Please!"

To my dismay my pleading words received another firm negative head shake. "Not now, my Viggo, no. No. I will tell you my story tomorrow night at 7:00. Please tell me what room are you in."

Orlando's soft, defiant words inflamed my controlled anger. Ha, after all these years Orlando's inherent stubbornness still made me furious in mere seconds. "Orlando, what is this madness? I want to talk to you now! I won't let you go again, I won't! I love you too much to simply walk away from you! Don't you understand my need?" My hands pulled my beloved close in a tight, desperate grip. I pressed my lips against his cold, smooth flesh and.

Once again Orlando easily yanked free, his slender body effortlessly repelling my strong arms. He moved so swiftly that I staggered back and felt the rough wall meet my back. My startled gasp mocked me. My God, I'd never felt such power from Orlando before. Never. A dense silence flowed between us, souring the already thick foul air. Facial muscles hardened and filled with suspicion borne from new despair. "Orlando, you plan to run from me. You cruel devil, you plan to run from me again!" I hissed brokenly. My trembling fingers reached for Orlando again but Orlando quickly stepped back and held up a tense, warning hand. The commanding glare flaring in his wide eyes halted my pitiful pleading.

My lover's glare bore into mine without pity. "I will not run any more, Viggo; I promise you I won't run. I swear on, ha, not my soul but how about yours? I will be there at 7:00 tomorrow night, so either accept my words or you will never see me again!" Orlando's harsh words belied the anguish suddenly flooding his tortured eyes. "I still love you, Viggo, more than you imagine. Yes, my love for you forced me to hide from you all these years. I somehow doubt you'll still love me after... "

Orlando's face looked oddly still then his large eyes again stared at nothing for seconds. Did he experience a bizarre fit? Before I questioned him Orlando's sad gaze speared me. This time our gazes meshed in infinite sorrow. Something tragic in my lover's direct stare made me shudder then his voice captured misery. "Tomorrow. I will be there, my love. Again I ask, what room?"

"408," I whispered. My mind howled in fresh agony. Damn, no, I must hold Orlando, I must stop him, I must...

"Until then, sweet Viggo. Now leave this area immediately. Don't return to this foul hellhole. You don't belong here at all. Your goodness makes you a target." Thin fingertips coldly burned across my right cheek. Lips colder than despair pressed against mine and massaged, ahh, somehow their softness battled the sick chill and magically filled my adoring mouth with warm, sun-lit memories. I tried embracing Orlando one last time, tried capturing his slender grace against my body. I must halt him from leaving me again!

Instead my Orlando vanished into the fog-bruised shadows.

I stared, then blinked rapidly, unable to see a thing in the intense soupy gloom.

"Orlando! You sly.Orlando!" I snarled in disbelief then my feet quickly paced towards the alley's end. Damn the thick darkness! My fingers felt the wall then once again I caught myself from falling forward. To my surprise a narrow opening, barely more than a doorway, twisted to the right. A rat scuttled over my feet, insolently peered at my helplessness, its eyes catching the streetlight's far-off glint, then it raced off. God.

Bah, I knew pursuit would be useless. My fingers touched my shocked face; how odd, no brittle ice crusted my cold cheek. Yet now my lips felt numb. Orlando stole the sweet warmth with him.

After long seconds I turned away from the beckoning passageway and let my feet slowly guide me toward the main street. As I plodded along a vast emptiness erupted within my confused soul. Oh God, I let my Orlando escape. My lover made me release him; I don't know how Orlando did it but somehow he overpowered my mind. Years ago in New York City my beauty had mentally overpowered me only this time Orlando's mental control felt astonishingly stronger.

I couldn't comprehend our last few minutes. My desperate search finally brought me to my cousin but I held a sick feeling our union wouldn't bring the expected joy. A desperate groan welled from my soul then I returned to the alley's mouth and stared back into the fetid darkness.

The thought ground against me; I had let Orlando escape. After four years searching for him I let my fey lover escape me without any true explanations. I let him leave me with a mere kiss and a promise. Of course Orlando used those queer powers he cultivated and he proved the other tales true: Orlando possessed exceptional strength, and was obviously quite ill. Did I just feel the strength of a madman?

"You'd better be there, you beautiful monster," I breathed brokenly before returning to my carriage. Another sick headache hovered nearby. Yes, the brandy would flow tonight. Oh yes.




ORLANDO

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing, my dark one?" As Sean spoke his fingers skillfully adjusted my worn cravat. Once he finished the mundane task his strong fingers trembled in stress before he clutched them together. Grave concern defeated his wide blue eyes.

The right thing? Ha, that ceased to be an option for me years ago. I slowly shook my head. "No, I'm not. But damn, what a ruin this suit is, yes, what a ruin I've become," I sighed. "Sean, I don't know what to think about this night: after all these years either I will be reunited with Viggo or I shall be hated by him. For all I know Viggo might think me insane. Oh, wouldn't that be a fine event? I understand my dear cousin's moral personality; it's why I've stayed away from him. For Viggo to look at me with hatred again would prove too much for me, although in the very act of looking for me there's the hope that... ahh, I don't know. My poor Viggo still cares for me, yes, even after all I've done to him he still loves me. I saw that in his eyes last night. I felt it in his fingers."

My hurried words faded into the cellar's dank air. I always talked too much when nervous. The more taciturn Viggo often teased me about my unshakable habit. Ha, I doubted that after the next few hours my poor lover would find anything to joke about with me. Sean's fingers soothingly stroked my thick hair. "Be careful, my beautiful dark master, please be careful. Like you said, it has been years."

I gazed at this strange older noble who made himself my slave in the vain hope I'd love him alone. Now Sean knew, yes, he fully accepted I did not love him, yet his unhealthy passion still burned for me. So be it. Sean kept me safe and guarded my secrets while I taught him my arcane magic. Was it a fair trade? We both didn't care about fair.

"I am not worried about that at all, dear Sean, not at all. Viggo will not physically harm me," I sighed before caressing his smooth cheek. My smile felt twisted. "Beside, remember I am now far stronger than he. So stop worrying about me. Now I must go."

The secret passage led me up to the decrepit house's ruined first floor. As usual I haunted deserted back streets, moving as quickly as possible without attracting undue attention. In minutes I strode into the City district's comfortable wealth, tempering my unnatural stride. Claridge's stately bulk finally loomed before me, the facade flickering with the gas light's cheerful sputters. Inhaling one short breath I crossed the tidy pavement towards a bright, elegant world I unwillingly abandoned years ago.

The uniformed door attendants eyed my tattered, unfashionable suit with twin subtle sniffs but they reluctantly let me pass. As I fixed a mocking smile on my lips I swept into dignified Claridge's grand foyer, anticipating the warm reaction I'd receive within reception.

Within seconds an officious clerk glared my way and swiftly moved to halt my progress. His prissy voice dripped superior scorn. I felt his distrust: heavens, we couldn't let this tattered, wild-looking, long-haired freak into the refined hotel, could we? "Excuse me, sir, can I help you?"

"No thank you. I am here to see my cousin Viggo Mortensen in room 408," I answered, fixing the man with my cold stare. I pushed a bit. Damn, his haughty resistance crumbled too easily for any real sport.

The humbled clerk blinked rapidly before he vaguely gestured to the grand stairs. "Oh, ah, well yes, why of course, sir, please go right on up."

"I shall do exactly that," I mocked, mounting the wide stair with a touch of my graceful demonic speed. Hmm, I should act cautious since showing off in public places could only lead to more trouble. I couldn't help it; tonight I felt edgy and nervous. Nerves brought out my natural and sometimes destructive impulsiveness.

Once up the stairs I found the fateful door. I sucked in another deep breath before knocking. The door opened before I lowered my hand.

Viggo stared out at me, his wide light eyes filled with anxious relief. I hated seeing him look so pathetic. "My lover, you came!"

"I promised you," I reminded, my gaze capturing my dear Viggo's eyes. His complete anguish chilled me, making me feel defensive and bitter. "Come, dear one, is that how little you think of me now?"

"Orlando, please, what do you expect? I hear nothing from you in four years! Nothing except your little trust fund clue," he hissed in response. Yes, even while feeling relief my elemental Viggo easily fell into his simmering anger.

My cool eyes studied my eternally angry lover. "So, my dear cousin, do we argue my questionable merits in the hall or may I enter?"

Viggo fiercely stepped back, his large right hand gesturing into the suite. I moved into the genteel room's center and turned back, letting my searching gaze glide over Viggo's handsome face. As we stood still for long minutes our stares tangled in uncertainty. Ha, of course I could have cheated but this was my Viggo.

"You always proved more adept than I at these little staring contests; there, you win again, cousin," I whispered. Shaking back my hair I turned away from my lover's glacial blue stare although I knew I could easily make Viggo look away before long.easily. If I wished my gaze could even drive him insane.

Before I could react Viggo's capable hands grabbed my slender arms. His hands quickly yanked my body against his firm flesh. This time I returned Viggo's desperate embrace. His mad embrace told me how much he still loved me, wanted me, needed me. As I pressed into his familiar contours my fingers lightly raked against his fine linen shirt. Careful, don't rip the fabric. Over the years my nails had become abnormally sharp. My lover's devouring kiss took me back years, yes, his perfect warm lips transported me to a simpler, far less damaged era. God, I how loved this beautiful, angry man. For a brief moment kissing him made us one again.

Our tongues touched and swayed. As I moaned in happiness my teeth gently bit Viggo's full lower lip in our remembered sweet passion. Instead of continuing in our erotic dance Viggo gasped then he jerked back, his light eyes wide and confused. "Orlando, come on, tell me why are you so extremely cold? I don't understand you. Dear one, is it your heart, your circulation or your.tell me, what is it?"

Damn, why couldn't we just kiss like normal lovers? Simple answer, eh? As I pulled free from Viggo's embrace my dark laughter poured from me. My body collapsed against the small settee and trembled in sick mirth. By the Seven, I knew I should have fed before arriving. Impulsive idiot. "Well, I think my heart is still working; however, my battered soul may need a bit more assistance. Come, sweet cousin, I have come to tell you want you want to know: what happened to me these last four years. That's what you want, isn't it, my thrilling life story?"

Viggo's tense body slowly sank to the settee then he leaned toward me. His troubled gaze remained fixed on my pale countenance. I felt his beloved eyes desperately searching for answers in my gaze. His fingers reached out and caressed my thigh but went no further yet I still felt his warmth invading my trouser's thin material. "Yes, that's what I want, Orlando. Your story, yes, your sorry excuse for leaving me like you did and for not telling me where you hid for all these bleak years!"

This scenario felt so wretched. "Well, my disappearance really wasn't my idea, dear one, not at all," I mocked. "I never planned for any of this to happen. However, you should be pleased with one vital thing. All your dire threats about my careless actions came true. You might say my wicked ways caught up with me, oh, did they ever," I laughed with grim amusement.

Of course Viggo didn't share in my mirth. "But Orlando, you simply left me! How wonderful, I received the occasional letter from Turkey then nothing until my web of detectives sighted you here after tracing you from Paris due to our blessed trust fund. You damned well knew I'd be looking so you gave me a clue. Then you traveled here, your birth city, and I took your arrival as a sign you wanted to reach out to me. In my soul I knew something was very wrong and now that I see you- you-" Viggo's husky voice finally broke in despair.

"My Viggo, trust me, it is the same for me. I wanted to run from you anew only you're right, I wanted to see you. I still want you, I still love you so much, yet before this night is over I fully expect to depart from your life. And my departure will be of your own command," I murmured, my fingers gently stroking Viggo's strong warm flesh as his hand held my leg. Mmm, he felt so warm and perfect.

As he gasped in anguish my Viggo grasped my cold hand. "No, Orlando, how can you say such cruel words to me? I find you after all these years and you think I will order you away from me? Now I must ask you what makes you think so basely of me? Very well, enough of my words; you were always the one who so loved your eloquent words. Now use your creative words to convince me why this sad separation felt so necessary."

My voice broke into more bitter laughter before Viggo finished his sentence. That laughter of the damned held no amusement; the acidic sound made poor Viggo flinch. "Oh I shall, dear cousin, believe me, I shall. Before tonight is over you shall know everything. I promise. But first you need to accompany me back to my world of filth and disgust. I must show you something that will determine this night's course. I realize my words will only convince you I am mad, yet my actions will prove differently. So let's endure the actions first, dear cousin. Come with me."

My fingers aiming a mocking gesture towards the door. "Come."

Viggo continued staring at me, his piercing eyes suddenly registering more confusion. "Damn, that's what's been bothering me. Why do you still look exactly the same as when you left me? Why? Lord, if anything you look younger! Your skin looks so smooth and unmarred. How could that be?" His one finger hovered toward my temple. "You had a small scar there from when Janine hit you with a badminton racket. Now it's gone. You had a scar right here from that fall from your horse." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Even your slight laugh lines are gone."

"Perhaps the mad keep their youth longer. Perhaps we even heal our traumas." As I offered Viggo a mocking smirk I rose and pointed at the door again.

Now Viggo glared at me before rising. A sudden great sorrow washed across my soul, making me feel petty. "My dear one, forgive me. I have been without your precious company for too long. Actually I've been without proper company for an extremely long time. I don't want to hurt you any more than I have so let me show you my secret. After that you can either choose to remain with me or you can order me to disappear from your life. You may even want to kill me," I whispered.

"Dear Orlando, don't say such horrible things! You must be mad. I love you. I love you!" he gasped.

I aimed one long-nailed finger toward Viggo then I stabbed my finger against the tense air. "No, cousin. You loved Orlando, the familiar Orlando you knew those years ago. Believe me, you may not feel that way after the Orlando you meet tonight."

Viggo helplessly stared at me, his pale eyes tragic in their uncertainty. My thin fingers caressed my lover's dark blonde hair away from his brow, that beloved, intelligent brow. "My lover, how I have tortured you. How cruel I am. Ahh, I never intended for all this to.oh dearest Viggo!" I choked before I lunged close and desperately kissed my lover's willing lips.

My long-damaged soul cried in pain. Please don't let me lose this man! Please don't let him reject me again!

Please don't let Viggo hate me.
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