Title: Kraven of Leicester

 

Author: Henrika

 

Pairing: Viktor/Kraven

 

Rating: NC-17

 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and I’m making no money from this story.

 

Summary: My version of how Viktor found Kraven.

 

A/N:

 

*~*~*

 

Viktor entered the room he’d been given with a slightly dissatisfied frown. The innkeeper had assured him that it was the best room in the house, and the vampire warlord had to believe him, given how small and modest the inn was.

 

The Elder and his escort had been travelling the British island for weeks, and this night they’d reached a small town called Leicester in the heart of England. They were to spend the day there on the Elder’s demand, as Viktor believed it was too risky to continue this close to sunrise.

 

Strange as it was, the warlord found the chamber – a combination of sitting- and bedroom – cosy after a while. The bedclothes were clean, and so far he had not seen rats or other vermin in the corners. The weather outside was horrible, and Viktor was relieved to peel off his soaked boots and travelling clothes, and slump in a chair near the fireplace, now clad only in his knee-length undershirt.

 

He almost dozed off but was awakened by a knock on the door. “Come on in…” he muttered, briefly considering whether he should do something about his state of undress. He decided not to. Whoever the visitor was, they would have to deal with the situation.

 

The door slowly opened, and a young man – barely out of his teens, surely – entered, carrying a tray.

 

“Sir…?” he asked in a small, timid voice. “I thought maybe you’d like some tea? It’s on the house.”

 

Viktor raised an eyebrow at the boy. The human was very beautiful; tall, athletic build, thick raven locks, smooth, creamy skin and lush lips. One did not often spot such a fine specimen, especially on the countryside.

 

“Yes, tea would be nice, thank you,” he replied absently, still not able to take his eyes off the young mortal. He’d awakened both the vampire’s bloodlust and libido; Viktor now longed to sink his fangs into that graceful neck and stick his cock in the boy’s arse.

 

“What is your name, boy?” he asked as the servant squatted near the fireplace to put in a few more blocks of wood.

 

“Kraven, sir,” the young man said with a quick smile. He was flattered by the warlord’s interest in him. Most customers were either curt and unfriendly, or downright rude.

 

Viktor smiled too; a predatory grin which flashes his fangs. “Nice to meet you, Kraven. I am Lord Viktor of Hungary. I am only visiting this… beautiful country of yours.”

 

Kraven’s eyes lit up. Obviously, he was impressed. Viktor chuckled at how easily his title could impress mortals.

 

“Are you foreign, sir?” the boy asked.

 

“Yes, I am. I’m only passing through.”

 

“Please, sir, tell me about your country!” Kraven, who was now done with the firewood, knelt by the chair at the warlord’s legs. His large, maroon eyes were wide open from curiosity and excitement.

 

The Elder chuckled at the young human’s eagerness. “There is really not much to tell… We speak a language different than yours… My home is a large mansion, and I have a wife and a daughter, and many servants, such as yourself. I enjoy horseback riding and hunting. Have you ever hunted, Kraven?”

 

The young man shook his head.

 

“Trust me, it is the greatest of pleasures,” Viktor said. “I wish I could show you…”

 

The Elder reached out to touch Kraven’s face, barely just brushing the cheek with his long fingernails. The boy did not seem intimidated by the gesture but kept looking up at Viktor with a mixture of awe and reverence.

 

“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” he asked then. “Anything at all…?”

 

Viktor wondered if the young man could guess what he wanted from him. In fact, the Elder would be surprised if Kraven, as beautiful as he was, hadn’t already experienced quite a few overtures of that sort at a place like this.

 

He felt himself hardening slightly beneath his undershirt, and that had to be obvious even to the boy. Kraven’s slightly insecure gaze moved between the warlord’s face and the growing bulge between his legs.

 

“Would you like me to…?” he asked knowingly and placed on hand on Viktor’s knee, gesturing at the man’s apparent arousal.

 

“Yes, Kraven. I would.”

 

Kraven smiled before lifting the edge of the shirt to expose the Elder’s privates. Viktor’s erect shaft, almost pink in colour, rose from his slender, pale frame, and Kraven was not slow to envelop his lips around the bulbous head. Viktor spread his knees to give the boy easier access as he leant back in the chair, eyes closed and breathing raggedly through his mouth.

 

The lad was not inexperienced, that much was clear almost instantly. Kraven sucked and licked on the sensitive head, using his tongue in the most provocative fashion, while his hands were busy kneading the rest of the shaft and Viktor’s sac gently.

 

The Elder was dangerously close to spilling himself, when he regained control enough to grab Kraven’s hair and pull out of the boy’s mouth. The mortal looked up, eyes filled with dread.

 

“Did I do it wrong, sir?” he asked.

 

“No, on the contrary – you did it too well,” Viktor replied. “Although I don’t want to finish this way. Undress for me,” he requested with a casual wave of his hand.

 

Kraven nodded and began to unbutton his shirt. Viktor could not wait to see that young, supple body in all its glory without those filthy rags to hide it. And once the boy had shed all his clothes and stood naked before the warlord, Viktor noted that Kraven really was as beautiful as he’d suspected. Only a few welts and scars marred his otherwise flawless skin; signs that he’d received a couple or more beatings in his life.

 

The young man’s genitals were surrounded by the same kind of inky curls that crowned his head, accompanied by a narrow string of hair leading up to his navel. His services to Viktor must have left him at least moderately aroused; Kraven’s cheeks were flushed, and his member half-hard.

 

Viktor stood up as well and faced the human. He noticed that they were almost of the same height; the mortal barely taller than he.

 

“Go lie on the bed, my boy.”

 

“Y-yes, sir…” Kraven obeyed instantly and pulled the covers back before placing himself on the mattress, waiting for the warlord to accompany him. The man was surprisingly tactful compared to some other customers he’d been forced to serve this way, and there was something about the older man’s blue eyes that mesmerized Kraven. He was more than willing to offer his body to keep the Hungarian warlord happy for tonight.

 

Viktor took a moment to simply watch the naked, young body sprawled on his bed before joining the human. He stroked Kraven’s hair back and lowered his mouth to the boy’s neck, nibbling and suckling on the tempting pulse point. Kraven moaned in response to the stimulation, surely not aware of Viktor’s true intentions.

 

The Elder had a debate with himself whether to drain the young mortal or not. He did not want to end the boy’s life, and at the same time he was desperate for the sweet life fluid filling Kraven’s veins. Maybe if he had the boy sexually, the blood lust would abate.

 

“How do you want me…?” Kraven asked his would-be lover. He was trembling with excitement by now and could not wait for their final union.

 

“Lie on your back…” Viktor growled and looked about for something to use as a lubricant. Oil would have been ideal, but obviously the innkeeper had not supplied him with any, despite his promises to please the Elder to the best of his ability.

 

A dry entry might prove painful for them both, so something had to be used. Viktor collected the pre-ejaculate leaking from both him and Kraven and smeared the excess fluid over his own manhood. It was not ideal, but it would do. Then, after raising Kraven’s legs, he slowly eased himself into the mortal’s hot tightness. They both groaned, Kraven’s face a mixture of pain and anticipation.

 

Supported by his arms, the Elder leant over his prize and quickly established a steady rhythm. Kraven began to meet his thrusts and moan wantonly against his neck. As the fire in Viktor’s loins grew, his hunger for human blood did, as well. The human’s strong, quick heartbeats reverberated in his ears, completely drowning out all other sounds.

 

Viktor felt his eyes shifting colour and his fangs elongating to full length. He was a predator now, and the mortal was his prey. At the same moment as the fire exploded between his legs, Viktor sank his deadly fangs deep into Kraven’s neck.

 

The first few gulps that filled his mouth were heavenly. The boy whimpered at first, then resisted weakly by pushing at the warlord’s shoulder. All this to no avail, of course. Viktor’s strength surpassed the mortal’s tenfold, or more.

 

At last Kraven collapsed against the mattress, weakened and drained, his previously strong heart now only beating very faintly. Viktor withdrew his teeth and raised his head to gaze at the human. Kraven’s gaze was bewildered and unfocused, as though he didn’t realize what was going on.

 

The Elder knew he had two choices – he could drain Kraven and let him die, or he could make the boy a vampire and take him back to Hungary. The second choice appealed to him more. That beautiful, flawless face would stay young and ethereal forever, never to be marred by sickness or old age.

 

“Kraven…” Viktor whispered in the youngling’s ear. “You must tell me… Do you wish to die, or would you rather instead become a part of my world, where you can stay young and beautiful forever, as you are now…? Tell me, little one… You do not have much time.”

 

Kraven blinked, his lips moving but making no sounds. “Please… I don’t wish to die… Let me… serve you…” he mouthed.

 

“Are you sure this is what you want? There is no going back.”

 

The boy nodded, gazing up into the luminous blue eyes through the fog that covered his vision. “Yes…”

 

Viktor nodded gravely. He had drained Kraven to the point of death, and to survive the soon-to-be vampire needed something to replace the blood he’d lost. Without hesitation, the Elder brought his own wrist to his mouth and bit into it. Then he placed the wound over the boy’s mouth and watched as the crimson drops leaked in between the pale lips.

 

Kraven’s tongue snaked out and tasted the fluid. At first he seemed appalled, but then his newly awakened instincts came to life and he craved more of it. Viktor simply watched as his new fledgling adhered to the source of sweet vampire blood. He let Kraven indulge for the first minute, but if he allowed this to go on, he risked weakening himself, and that would certainly not do.

 

With a gentle but firm hand on the boy’s chest, Viktor pressed him down and withdrew his wrist. The look in Kraven’s eyes was one of hunger alone.

 

“You got your share…” the Elder admonished his creation. “Now it’s time to rest, young one. We will leave at dusk.”

 

Kraven slowly stilled and drifted into a slumber, his body having accepted the vital Elder’s blood as nutriment. Viktor waited until his own wound had closed and then lay down next to the boy. He was weary himself and would not mind a few hours of well-deserved rest.

 

*~*~*

 

When Viktor drifted awake, many hours later, his fledgling was still asleep. The light through the curtains indicated that it was shortly past sundown, which meant time to leave. The warlord rose from the bed and dressed himself in silence. Luckily all his clothes had dried during the day, and the weather seemed not quite so bad anymore.

 

At last he shook the boy awake. Kraven started and his eyes fluttered open; they were now the same colour as Viktor’s own – a vampire’s eyes. The newly turned immortal looked fear-stricken at first, but then calmed, and his eyes resumed their natural brown nuance.

 

If possible, Kraven looked even more stunning as a vampire. His skin was pale but not lifeless, and his delicate, almost feminine features were accentuated by an ethereal glow.

 

“Get dressed, young one,” Viktor ordered and dumped the boy’s rags on the bed beside him. He’d get the fledgling better clothes once they got to a bigger city. “We are leaving.”

 

Kraven simply nodded, still mesmerized by the regal and imposing warlord’s presence. He looked down at his hands and noticed his long and sharp his fingernails had become, just over a day.

 

“What am I?” he asked.

 

The Elder smiled. “You, my young one, are Kraven of Leicester. And from this night, you shall also be my servant.”

 

The End