Chapter Text
Tarith found himself backed into a dark alleyway. Trapped. They must have been leading him here from the beginning.
Footsteps and shadows soon blocked his only escape.
“Hello there, Lavellan,” a man’s warm voice called out. “Why do you run from me? We were having so much fun.”
“You betrayed our blood bond, Falon’din,” Tarith spat as he patted his pockets searching for a stake.
Another man chuckled near Falon’din, “I just want to play with you a little.”
Dirthamen.
He should have known when he willingly allowed Falon’din to bond with him, to drink from him, that this could have been a possibility. But, it was nearly unheard of. Nearly... Tarith thought they were just rumors. People being paranoid, but no. If a betrayal of this magnitude was happening, then the rumors about their rampant feeding on unwilling civilians must also be true.
Fuck.
The two men were close now, striking distance.
Falon’din sighed, like he was bored. “Tarith, my dear, you are so sweet. I simply wish for my brother to have but a taste.”
“That was not the arrangement,” Tarith warned, “I am not his bound. I am not willing. He will receive virtually no nourishment.”
“Sometimes we eat for our own enjoyment, Lavellan.” Dirthamen grinned, fangs reflecting moonlight from the street behind him.
Tarith’s heart fell into his stomach as he finished his search for a weapon.
He was unarmed.
He had not packed anything…hadn’t expected to meet Falon’din today…hadn’t been prepared for a fight.
“The agreement between the Lavellans and the Pantheon prohibit such behaviors,” Tarith stalled.
Falon’din examined his nails, “technicalities.”
His bond lunged forward to grab ahold of him, but Tarith dodged. He may not have a weapon, but he could do enough to defend himself without it. Tarith kicked Falon’din in the chest, sending him flying against the wall.
Dirthamen came at Tarith from the side, aiming a punch for his side. The Lavellan slammed down his forearm against the vampire’s fist, deflecting the strike.
Turning his back to Falon’din had been a mistake. The vampire recovered faster than he had expected from the kick.
Falon’din pulled Tarith’s back flush to his chest and wrapped a strong hand around his neck. “You could have made this much easier on all of us, boy.”
Tarith struggled, but Dirthamen grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed his hip against his. He was trapped between the two vampires.
As the unbonded vampire’s teeth sank into Tarith’s neck, his body was wracked with agony. It was as if all his blood had turned to glass and was shredding his insides. This was wrong. His screams filled the alley.
Once he felt himself sated, Dirthamen pulled away from Tarith and wiped at his mouth. “Not bad, but I am not sure it was as delectable as you claimed, brother.”
“Lavellan will not stand for this,” Tarith warned.
Dirthamen responded with a toothy smile, “only if they find out.”
Falon’din shrugged and looked down at Tarith, “it has been fun, but I find myself in need of a little something else from my feedings.”
The man that Tarith had trusted, whose feedings made him a fully blood bound Lavellan, snapped his neck without a second thought.
They laid him out in the alley and took his wallet.
The papers would say it was just another terrible mugging gone wrong.
But the Lavellans knew better. The clan of blood bound scattered, hiding themselves away from those vampires they had been called upon to protect.
The insanity was spreading and they would not be a part of it.
And so the events became stories, and the stories legends, and the legends myths.
Until one day, dozens of generations later….
Beatrice wasn’t sure she would enjoy living in the city, but it was where the best libraries were. It certainly couldn’t be worse than the middle of fucking nowhere where she had grown up.
She had been top of her class in school and after trying to be happy as the best librarian with no actual library, she gave up and found a job further from home.
The buildings were tall and everything was so much louder.
It would take some getting used to.
Bea had moved into an apartment in an alright part of town…it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible. She moved in with some woman who had needed a roommate, Cassandra. Cass was…very tall. She worked in security for some high-profile person and traveled frequently. At least she would get the apartment to herself more often than not.
It was easy to fall into the hypnotic flowing of people on the sidewalks…but it was much more difficult to escape.
She planned on stopping at a coffee shop on her way to her first day of work, a reward for making it to this point.
No one would let her out of the stream of bodies.
“Excuse me, Pardon m—“ Someone knocked into her again. “Fuck this!” Bea grumbled and shoved through people in the direction of the doorway half a block ahead.
Two elbows in, her bag caught on something and she went tumbling to the ground, her legs twining with someone else’s on her way down. Luckily, she landed outside the horde.
She let out a string of curses and sat up.
Across from her was an older man. He was bald and dressed fashionably, if plainly. There was something odd about his appearance…perhaps it was his pocket watch.
Bea’s tongue was tied between apologizing for knocking into him and yelling at him for getting in her way.
The city was doing strange things to her mind.
“I’m terribly sorry, miss,” the man said quickly, saving her from having to choose a response. His voice was a smooth, agreeable, baritone.
She took a deep breath and started to get her feet back under herself, “I’m honestly surprised it hadn’t happened to me yet.”
The man stood faster than her and held out a hand to help her up, “allow me.”
Their skin met and the strangest thing happened: his eyes went from being a steely grey to entirely black. Bea blinked and it remained. He hauled her to her feet and once he dropped her hand, his eyes returned to normal.
Did she hit her head when she fell?
Her grandmother had told her the stories…the signs…but, that’s all that it was…stories. There hadn’t been any vampire sightings in hundreds of years.
“Miss? Are you well?” He asked gently.
Bae snapped back into herself, “yes, just haven’t had any coffee yet. It’s where I was headed when we…met.”
He looked at her…studied her. There was something serious in his (blue again) eyes despite that the look on his face was an unthreatening pleasantness. “I was headed that way myself. Might I join you?”
Her brow furrowed. Coincidence? Maybe he was just some random man who was going to ask her for a date later.
…but the eyes…
Her grandmother’s words rang in her mind. They hide in plain sight. It is only when they are about to feed that their true nature can be seen.
“That would be lovely,” she responded finally, with a smile. “Maybe with two of us, we can make it to our goal.”
The line was long. Every line in the city was long.
“It sounds as though you are new to the area?” the man asked.
She nodded, “I only moved recently. I’ve been bookkeeping in a rural town for some years.”
“A librarian?”
“Yes, and a researcher. I am very skilled at finding information,” Bea said distractedly while looking at the ever closer menu board. “And you?”
“An author,” he smirked, “or at least I try to be.”
“Medium latte, extra shot, yes whip. For Bea. Thank you!” Bea blurted out. She paid quickly and moved to the side.
“Just a hot chocolate please,” the man requested without any of the urgency she had had. “For Solas. Thank you very much. Please, keep the change.”
She tapped her fingers against her side. At this rate, she was going to be late for work.
Solas. That wasn’t the name of any of the fabled vampires…. She couldn’t believe that she was still considering this to be more than fairy stories.
He shifted beside her, “Bea. Short for…?”
“Beatrice,” she looked over at him, “Solas is short for…?”
“Solas.” He half laughed.
“Bae!” A barista called out. Followed quickly by, “Solas!”
Bea groaned and grabbed her drink and his as well. “I hate when they get my name wrong. Bae. Ugh.” She hated mix ups of her name with a passion. She was Bea like the things that sting and not like a babe.
He chuckled as he takes his cocoa, “you may be surprised at some of the bastardizations of my name that have been managed throughout the years.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Bea sighed.
She looked at her watch while taking a sip of coffee. Shit.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Solas. I have to go.” Bea gave him a little wave and pushed her way out into the street again.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was…different in her from when she had left the house this morning.
Bea rushed to the city library. It was a stately building in the middle of town full of archives from all over Thedas. She would be working in the historical documents section under the direction of a Dr. Merrill. When the woman greeted her, Bea was surprised at how young she seemed. Merrill must have been at least 10 years her senior, but she had a youthful energy that propelled her through reality.
“Welcome, Beatrice Lavellan!” Merrill chirped, opening the door to the main repository where their offices were.
“Thank you, Merrill. Please, I don’t go by Lavellan. Ahdahlen, please, my mother’s surname.” Bea explained quickly.
Merrill hummed, “Lavellan is a lovely name! Full of history!”
History.
Bea forced a smile, “I appreciate the compliment. But you know how people are, one out of five might recognize the name, but explaining the blood bond myth and that I am not and never have, in fact, been in league with vampires, becomes tiring.”
“Oh! I can imagine,” Merrill giggled, “Well, Beatrice Ahdahlen, welcome to the National Archives.”
Bea had the morning to settle into her office and take quick stock of what was in the repositories. She had been studying the collection lists since she was offered the job, but extra work never hurt. It helped her to not think about the odd tingling she felt in her hand when her thoughts wandered to Solas.
After a very nice lunch with the rest of the library staff, she manned the desk in the histories department.
She had expected this part of her job to be excruciatingly boring. No one would come seeking physical copies of documents. Most of it was online now for students and it wasn’t exactly light reading for the general public. She decided to start logging the newly acquired tomes to pass time.
The afternoon sun streams through her dark hair casting a mahogany halo around the side of her vision.
Sometime later, a shadow fell over her.
A patron?
“Welcome to the National Archives, I’m Bea, how can I—“ Bea stopped speaking as soon as she fully lifted her head. “Hello, Solas.” She continued, trying to keep the surprise from her voice.
He smiled softly down at her, his hands clasped behind his back. “Good afternoon, Beatrice. You are not just a librarian as you had said. You are assistant to the head of the National Archives. I see now why you moved to the city.”
Bea narrowed her eyes at him. Had he followed her? She plastered back on her customer service smile, “it was an amazingly fortuitous offer. Now, Solas, what can I do for you?”
“I was working on my most recent manuscript and find myself in need of some documents.”
“Well,” she raised her eyebrow cheekily, “then you have come to the right place. Anything in particular? Or just old paper?”
He let out a sharp breath that might have been mild laughter, “I was looking for works regarding vampires, please.”
Bea felt her blood freeze.
There it was again: vampire.
She cleared her throat, “and you came to the historical section? I am sure whatever you are looking for would be more easily found in fictions.”
He looked at her expectantly.
Bea sighed and pulled up the catalog. Sure enough, there was a large section on vampires. Lovely. She eyed him with a suspicious amusement, “usually, children wishing to scare their friends with fairy stories are the ones who look for vampire works, Solas.”
Solas tilted his head to the side, keeping his smile, “all myths come from some sort of reality, yes?”
“Perhaps…” Bea pushed the button to request that one of the stock workers bring the tomes she selected to the front desk. “Regardless, I have selected a range of books for you. They will arrive shortly.”
Instead of sitting down at a table to await his books, the man stayed at her desk. “So, you do not believe the tales of the vampires?”
Bea let out an exasperated huff, “the blood and energy stealers from hundreds of years ago, that all seemingly disappeared? No.”
“Have you heard of the blood bound?” He wondered, innocently curious.
She felt a serious sense of foreboding. The eyes. These inquiries. If he was a vampire, he was doing a shit job of keeping a low profile.
Bea was determined to not let on that she was having suspicions, “of course I have. I read.”
“Beatrice,” Solas said with a nearly hypnotic command to his voice, “look at me in the eyes, Beatrice.”
Bea felt something like a pull at her mind…her brain compelling her to follow his directions. She pushed it away, but chose to look up on her own. She raised an annoyed brow, “we are barely acquainted, Solas. I am not sure why you think it is acceptable to be barking orders at me.”
A small tick formed between his brows.
On accident, while studying his signs of frustration, her eyes met his.
“Beatrice, do you know any Lavellans?”
She started to speak without meaning to, “Yes, I—“ Bea shook her head and broke eye contact. “Yes,” she continued, this time deliberately choosing her words, “it is a common name in parts of rural communities. If you are inquiring as to my knowledge of the modern existence of the blood bound, then you sorely mistake the power of an exotic or mythological name to influence random people to change their own name to match.”
The furrow between his brows grew deeper, “I see.”
Bea flashed him a haughty smile and went back to looking at the new acquisition stack, “your requests will arrive at table six momentarily.”
“Beatrice….?” Solas hesitated.
“Hm?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, “would you please—“
“Oh look! There’s your book cart. Good afternoon, Solas,” Bea said firmly, pointing to table six.
Solas’ lips parted slightly in surprise, but he recovered. “Thank you, I appreciate the timeliness of your request.”
As soon as he left, Bea pulled up some of the online repository on vampires. She felt silly. All throughout her childhood the elders had explained to her how she was a descendant of the Lavellans. That she was a blood bound. She could sense vampires and force their disguises away. She knew how to make a stake—she had not in many years, but she was sure she could still accomplish the task. Blood bound were immune to the mind tricks of the vampires. Was that what had happened?
Black, changing eyes. Strange look to him. Her speaking without meaning to, but stopping. She flexed her tingly hand. All of it matched up with the stories.
The question was why?
Vampires has essentially gone underground once the Lavellans went into hiding, and with them the most reliable and sustaining food source.
Would this man flagrantly disregard so many years of anonymity to be testing her? It wouldn’t be for a simple feeding…no. He would not have asked her of the Lavellans if it was.
The Pantheon, the most powerful and oldest vampires in Thedas, had betrayed the Lavellans. Lavellans started to disappear. Rumors of experiments…of sharing bound ones…Once a binding was in place, the vampire was unable to take another until the previous binding had been severed. This could happen peacefully….but…
It became extremely dangerous for Lavellans to reveal themselves.
What did this man….this…vampire want of her?
Lavellans were not at their full strength until they had formed a bond and provided nourishment to their bound vampire. In return for the sharing of their spirit, they were given strength and a sort of pseudo-immortality while the bond was in place and the vampire regularly fed.
She didn’t think that she would be able to defend herself unless she was fully prepared for an attack. Not now. At best, she was mildly strong.
Fuck.
It was all real?
Bea looked at Solas. She caught him watching her from the corner of his eye and did not make any move to remedy it. Yes, he could be the type that was a vampire.
She tapped her fingers on the desk impatiently.
Before she left home, her grandmother had given her a chest full of equipment ‘just in case’. Her ‘just in case’ case….Cassandra was out of town. If she did not head this off, then he could attack at any time.
No.
She would set the field.
“Solas?” Bea asked prettily, walking over to his table.
He looked up at her, expectantly.
“Would you like to come to my apartment for drinks? Who knows if I’ll be able to make my way back there through the crowds.” She batted her lashes and smiled alluringly.
His lips pressed together, thinking, “I…”
“Well, if you don’t want to then that is perfectly fine. I’ll just be on my way—“
“No.” Solas interrupted her, grabbing her elbow as she turned away. “No,” he repeated with less desperation, “you should not be out on the dark streets alone. Who knows what could await you?”
She gestured to the books, “all sorts of baddies, I imagine.”
“Yes…baddies…” he sounded troubled and dropped his hand from her arm.
“Good, after I pack up here we can go,” Bea affirmed and walked back to her desk.
She would not wait for him to make the first move.