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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of here comes this rising tide
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Published:
2016-05-13
Completed:
2018-08-08
Words:
66,722
Chapters:
17/17
Comments:
220
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321
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41
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7,186

young blood

Summary:

Fili has been a vampire since 1910, raised by two older vampires who took him under their wing. However, it is not until 2016 that he finally meets the other half of his soul... who is a human... and works for vampire hunters. Fate is clearly a cruel, and ironic, bitch. However, Fili has not gotten this far in life shying away from challenges.

Notes:

i don't even know what this is. it's been sitting on my usb for over a year now so i've decided to just start posting it. it hasn't been beta'd so any mistakes are my own.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

The moon is warm in the midnight air, hanging low and fat with a dim glow emitted over the ground. There's a sharp gasp in the silence before it cuts off, a thudding heartbeat strung tight. The blood spills down the neck and he's there, quick to lap it up and catch every last drop on his tongue. His mouth skims past the pulse which quickens, and he croons low in his throat, sliding a hand around a hip. He seals his lips around the puncture wounds, his fangs sliding neatly into a set of holes he had previously made, and he begins to drink in earnest.

The body underneath him thrashes, and he groans, pressing his hips against hers to pin her still in place while he drinks. She hits him once, twice on the back, before her arm droops to her side and twitches helplessly. He makes a pleased sound, for her aim had been true and yet it had not hurt. She is growing weaker by the moment until she gives one last shudder and rests limp against him.

He pulls back with a wet slurping sound, licking the last of her life from his lips. His mouth is stained red and he uses the hem of her torn blouse to wipe his chin off. He releases his hold on her and lets her fall to the ground, her skull bouncing once and cracking twice. Her eyes, which had sparkled almost grey in the beginning, now stare up at the yellow moon unseeingly. Her neck is ravaged, multiple puncture points littering the skin. The sight of it causes him to yearn once more for that taste of fear, the taste of life itself. If he moves quickly, he can still find another; the night doesn't have to end just yet.

"Enjoying yourself?" A rough, gravelly voice from behind him interrupts his musings and he whirls around to see a tall, broad shouldered man that has too many muscles to count standing at the entry of the alleyway. His bushy brows are lowered in a frown, one hand tugging at the wiry beard on his chin.

His eyes dart around to find an escape route but the alley he has cornered himself in provides no relief. He will have to fight his way out of this problem and although he has never been a fighter before, he's been given a new skill set he isn't afraid to use. He rolls his shoulders and takes a step closer, baring his fangs.

"If you know what is good for you, you'll leave off," he hisses, his tongue darting out to catch a droplet of stray blood from his left fang. "Walk away and I'll forget this ever happened."

The man's hands drop to his sides and he laughs suddenly, deep and booming. "You're pretty bold for a young one," he says before flashing a fanged smile at him.

He blinks in surprise and stumbles backwards to a safer distance. He had not known this man was like him. He has never met another one like him before, save for the one who ruined him completely. He pulls his arms tight against his body at the memories and shudders hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"What do you want with me?" He tries to demand, but his voice wavers and breaks on the words. He is so afraid of this man, suddenly. "You're a... vampire."

"Aye, I am," the man says and he takes another step closer. This brings him into the light of the lamp that hangs above their heads and he is surprised to see that the look on the man's face is one of kindness, something he has not seen in a very long time. "I reckon you are, as well."

"I am," he finally agrees after a moment of silence. It still takes him a moment for his mind to realize that yes, he is forever changed and nothing will ever be the same again. He has become the monster that fairytales warned against.

He is cold, and hungry, and alone.

"A new one, if I'm not mistaken," the man says, taking another step closer towards him. "My name is Dwalin, and I am here to help you. When were you turned?"

He closes his eyes and suddenly the memory of the pain is back. It had burned underneath his skin, the venom racing through his veins, turning him inside out until he had thought he was going to die. And when he had fully woke and realized what he had become, what he had done, he truly wished that he had died.

"A week ago," he whispers, lowering his head in shame.

"Jesus," the man - Dwalin - whistles lowly and he's suddenly standing so much closer. "Don't be afraid. Vampires look after their own, or so they should. I can't say much about the bastard who turned you and then set you loose on the streets of London. However, you're not alone anymore. My brother and I will look out for you now."

"Okay," he agrees readily, because what else is he to do? He cannot continue to wander the streets, searching for someone walking on their own so he can pull them into a dark corner and feast on their terror. "I'm scared."

"Of course you are, you'd be a damn fool not to be," Dwalin says. He's moved so that he is standing right beside him and Dwalin carefully reaches out to put his hand on his shoulder. "I promise that things will get better for you. Come with me, I am going to take you home. Is that okay?"

"Yes," he says without a thought. If Dwalin helps him, then he will be better for it. And if Dwalin kills him, then he will truly be better off.

Either way, Dwalin, who isn't afraid to touch him when everyone else around him is terrified, has become his salvation.

"What's your name, lad? What can I call you?"

A hazy memory floats in front of his eyes and he clenches his eyes shut to block it. It's useless, though. A man with golden hair and a bushy mustache throws him up in the air, catching him with a wide grin. A woman with hair as pale as the morning sunrise pulls him into her lap and hugs him close, murmuring how much she loves him.

He swallows hard, his throat tight and stinging. Those people are gone now and he will never see them again. He doesn't trust himself; he would hurt them and even worse yet, he would enjoy it. They would be so afraid of him, of what he has become, and they would taste so good. They wouldn't stand a chance against him and so for their sakes, he must stay away.

He will never be their son again, for who could ever love or trust a monster like him?

"Fili," he says thickly, blinking the moisture out of his eyes and almost unconsciously, he leans his weight against Dwalin's sturdy frame. "My name is Fili, and I'm so scared."