Vampyres: Fluff: Truths Told, pt. 2 (warning)

["A. Fraser" <redoak@interlog.com>]

There are three sides to every story.  This is the second side of the one
the Baron told, from a different viewpoint.  The viewpoint of aquamarine eyes.

Warning:  it still isn't pretty.  It still has violence, bondage, sex, and
the other things that make a good story.  It is, in fact, the same story.
But with differences.  The differences are important.

______

Truths Told
copyright 2000
by Anne Fraser
with the kind assistance of L.M. Wallace

____


Adrian stood up and paced to the fireplace, idly picking up the iron 
poker and shifting the burning logs. Then he turned to Pandora, 
having gathered his thoughts.

'I should never let him rehearse,' she thought ruefully.  'He will give 
me the dramatic version now.'  

He walked over to where she sat on the new sofa and plunked 
himself down beside her.  "I was very stupid when I was young," he 
stated without preamble.  "Oh, I know, I'm still stupid; but 
compared to when I was first turned, I'm a pure genius now."   

"Backhanded fishing for compliments isn't allowed," said Pandora
mock-sternly.  "Just tell me, Adrian; don't try to justify it."

"I am not justifying," he said.  "I am explaining.  My vampiric sire 
was slain by an enemy of his, not very long after I was turned.  His 
killer kept us--myself and T'Beth--as trophies for awhile, then turned 
us loose. T'Beth didn't want me hanging around her, and I had 
nobody else to turn to. I stayed in England for awhile, drifting from 
company to company, but always moving on before my new nature 
could be discovered.  Shakespeare was not a stupid man. I wanted 
to... well, belong to somebody.  I always had, you know, and it 
didn't feel right not to have... a master.  Of any kind.   

"So I went searching for one.  I met one or two other vampires.  
Some avoided me, they could sense I was trouble all wrapped up in 
one neat little package. But I heard rumours... I'm sure you know 
that vampires are the worst gossips in history.  Rumours reached 
me of a powerful, sadistic vampire in France.  I craved to be 
dominated.  I set out to find this... de Sade of the undead.  

"He was not hard to find, although he seemed to have several 
different names.  Etienne Corbeau.  Kent Ravensbrook.  Others.  
But one only had to set foot in the Loire Valley to feel his power, 
like a cancer hanging from the very grape vines.  I found his Keep 
easily--what a perfect setting for the type of master I thought I 
sought!  And he welcomed me gladly, as much in search of novelty 
and the depraved as I was."  

Adrian straightened and turned his gaze on Pandora.  There was 
nothing in it but self-mockery as he said, "He was a little too 
depraved, even for me."  

"Did you ever meet Ravensbrook?" Adrian asked his audience of 
one.  

Pandora shook her head.  "No, he was already True Dead by the 
time I met the Baron."  

"Ah.  He was a beautiful man, Niamh.  Much taller than I, somehow 
both more and less effeminate at the same time.  And those eyes 
of his... you would do anything for him.  I do not know his story, 
what made him what he was. Does it matter?  He was evil.  And he 
rejoiced in it--not one of your angsting, self-hating vampires, our 
Kent."   

Adrian's smile was self-deprecating, but Pandora didn't believe him 
for a second.  Adrian rejoiced in what he was, all his angst was for 
show.  But evil?  No. Ravensbrook had been pure evil, from what 
little she knew about him. She remembered Gideon's voice as he'd 
told her of only one night in his sire's grim care, and shuddered.   

"But you tried to join with him, anyway," she said out loud.  "Why?"

"Because he was so beautiful, and masterful," Adrian said.  
"Because I needed a master, and I did not then know the sheer 
nakedness of his depravity.  I learned quickly, however, that I was 
in well over my foolish head.  He welcomed me--I was someone 
new, and pretty.  He told me he had a favourite toy already, though, 
his 'little catamite'.  I thought he meant a child, that's what the term 
usually means.  He wanted to know if I wished to play with this pet 
of his.  I said yes, because I thought if it was a child, I would free it, 
no matter what Ravensbrook would do to me.  My days of hurting 
children were over, though if the only way I could free it was to kill 
it, then I would do so.  Already, after only a few hours in that 
dreadful place, I knew that Ravensbrook was far more evil and cruel 
than even rumour gave him credit for, and that there was little hope 
of escape should I cross him."  

Adrian took a sip of the contents of his glass which, ironically, 
Pandora had obtained from the Baron.  She, in turn, sipped her 
Glenfiddich. 

"So there I was, at the mercy of this sadistic vampire.  I followed 
him to a bedroom that was more like a dungeon, full of whips and 
chains and things the Inquisition might have used. He bade me 
undress, and I thought perhaps that he had lied, and that he would 
use some of those things on me.  There were one or two I wouldn't 
have minded... ah, no matter.  I was afraid, Niamh, afraid of this 
powerful vampire, afraid of that keep, afraid for my life and my skin.  
However, he did not touch me, save with his hands and lips, and 
then just when he had teased me to the point where I was 
trembling with desire, he left.  He was back within a short time, 
dragging with him his promised 'little catamite'.  This was no child; 
though he was very young, he was a grown man.  He was not even 
all that handsome, though he had nice eyes when I got the chance 
to see them.  Obviously, he was terrified of Ravensbrook, terrified 
to the point of numb, unquestioning obedience. Still, though he was 
beaten and frightened, there was an air about him that I knew, for I 
had copied it often enough on the stage.  It takes more than a 
Ravensbrook to kill the spirit of aristocracy.  

"'Did I not promise you fine entertainment, my dear boy?' 
Ravensbrook asked me.  

"'What is this?' I asked him.  'Is this your pet?'

"I felt those great dark eyes look up at me when I spoke.

"'This is my greatest treasure,' Ravensbrook said, patting the 
young man's cheek.  'My own little catamite, my pet aristocrat.'  

"'Aristocrat?' I echoed, thinking what a sorry pass one of the 
haughty nobles had come to.  

"'Ah, thought that would interest you,' Ravensbrook said to me.  
'Yes, dear Adrian, this is a member of the vaunted ruling class, one 
of those lordly beings who would spit on a mere actor.  A lowly 
Baron, mind you, but still far above a wandering player."  He 
grabbed the wretch by the hair, forcing his chin up.  "And he is a 
Puritan, is that not delicious?'  

"Puritan!  Puritans had closed the theatres, forcing players into 
poverty and a life of wandering misery.  Puritans were indirectly 
responsible for my becoming a vampire; for had the theatres not 
closed, I would not have been forced to seek a patron. This 
stranger had two strikes against him already, but he was too 
beaten for me to hate.  

"'Oh, aye?' I asked, feigning interest.  "What is his name and title,
then?'  I got off the bed, so as to have a closer look at this toy of 
his.

"'Baron Gideon Redoak,' Ravensbrook smiled.  'Or what's left of 
him.  Young lord, this is my newest friend, Adrian Talbot.  He's one 
of those players that your religion would have put in the stocks and 
whipped.'  

"I turned my head away, for I could sense what was coming.

"'You already have provided the stocks, I see,' I said. 'And the 
whipping?'  

"'I thought I would give you the honours,' Ravensbrook said.  He 
turned to a rack that held assorted whips, straps and other such 
implements.  'It would be the cat, would it not?' he inquired, 
fingering the dreadful nine-tailed whip in question.   

"I nodded.  A cat o' nine tails is a dreadful weapon, Niamh, it leaves 
a man's flesh in tatters.  I had no desire to use it on that poor boy 
in the stocks, but Ravensbrook pressed the stock into my hands 
with such force that I knew he meant to use it on me should I 
refuse to obey him.  

"I wanted to free that young man.  But I knew that if I even tried, I 
would take his place, and that his master would devise unthinkable 
things to do to me.  I always have been something of a coward. I 
did the only thing I could, and tried not to lay on the whip too 
heavily. But Ravensbrook watched every move we both made, as if 
he knew what I was thinking.  Perhaps he did, he had powers the 
like of which I have never encountered since.  I had to draw blood, 
to leave that young vampire a beaten hulk."  

He emptied his glass, and stared at the bottom of it.  "Then 
Ravensbrook took me to his bed," he said simply, "and we had 
sex, even while the young Baron hung in chains and bled.  

"His lusts satisfied, Ravensbrook got up to leave.  'I must go find 
some blood to keep him going,' he said, going over and caressing 
that bleeding hulk as if he had not just forced me to flay him.  He 
turned his eyes on me. 'You may amuse yourself with him, if it 
pleases you.  But if he dies the true death, you take his place.'  
With that, he left the room.  

"'Help me,' the "catamite" demanded.

"'You heard him,' I replied.

"'Please help me,' he tried begging this time.

"'I am sorry to see you reduced to begging for help,' I told him.  'But 
I cannot help you.'  

"He coughed, and blood went splattering everywhere. "'Please,' he
said.  'You are English.  Help me.'

"I thought I heard Ravensbrook's footsteps in the hallway, so I 
spoke loudly when I answered.  

"'Oh, yes, milord, I am English.  And as much beneath your notice 
as a stray dog.  Were we to meet on the street in London, Baron, 
you would whip me from your path.  What matters it to you that 
there are children begging in the gutters, so long as your dinner 
awaits you in your warm ancestral hall? I, help you?'"  I leaned in 
and whispered in his ear, "'I dare not.  It would be the true death of 
us both.'  More loudly, for Ravensbrook's benefit, I said,  "'I would 
help you to the kiss of sunlight, save I have no desire to take your 
place as Ravensbrook's plaything.'  

"Neither of us said more, and I left when Ravensbrook came back 
with blood for his pet." He got up and poured himself a shot from 
the bottle of scotch.  "That keep was a dark and terrible place, 
Niamh, I was lucky to escape.  It seems that Ravensbrook had left 
orders I was to be unmolested if I left, provided I was alone.  Had I 
tried to take the Baron with me, I am convinced that neither of us 
would have survived.  There were things guarding that keep, things 
that I am not certain even Ravensbrook fully controlled."  

Pandora thought of the cleansing of the keep, of the entity that had 
attacked and killed three vampires, and left Genevieve with a scar 
and Evan with a dislocated shoulder.  Michael had told her of the 
impressions he'd felt when he'd opened the keep up and let green 
things grow there.  The place had had evil imbedded in the very 
stones, he said.  She didn't tell Adrian this, however.   

 "So," Adrian said, swilling down the Scotch, "that is *my* side of 
the story."
 
 Pandora nodded and refreshed her drink.  She sat back in her 
 chair, staring thoughtfully into the amber contents of her glass.  It 
 had been difficult to hear the tale again, difficult to hear of Gideon's 
 pain and suffering.  One thing was clear, however;  the stories were 
 essentially the same, only the perspective differed, just as she had 
 suspected.  She took a sip of her scotch and then spoke.
 
 "You realize that Gideon would not have been able to perceive that 
 you were acting a role,"  she stated quietly.  
 
 "And yet, how much was made of my being a player,"  Adrian said, 
 and Pandora could almost taste the steel of his irony.
 
 "Yet your whip was not a prop,"  Pandora pointed out.  "And 
 Gideon may have been a captive audience,"  she paused, 
 grimacing at her unintentional pun, "but not a very sophisticated 
 one.  Pain has a way of levelling class inequities."  
 
 Adrian indicated acquiescence to her point with a simple nod of his 
 head.  "You can make him understand," he said, and it was not 
 quite a question.
 
 The healer sighed and stood, pacing restlessly to the fireplace just 
 as Adrian had before her.  
 
 "No, Adrian.  _You_ must make him understand,"  she responded, 
 turning to look at him pointedly.  
 
 Adrian turned the full force of his gaze on her, but she was impervious.
 "You have got to be kidding," he said.  "He'll kill me as soon as look at
 me."
 
 "Not if he's willing to listen to what you have to say.  This animosity 
 is eating him up.  He's properly buried so much of his past with 
 Ravensbrook; this is a long missing pound of flesh that needs to be 
 committed to the earth or it will continue to torment him every time 
 he sees you or hears your name."
 
 "And you think he will truly listen to me?  That he'll believe me?"  
 Adrian looked incredulous.
 
 Pandora absently picked at some wax drippings on a pewter 
 candlestick.  "Can you convince him that you were acting then, but 
 not acting now..."  she pondered aloud.  "Tell me, if you are willing 
 to speak with him, then what do you feel you have to gain by doing 
 so?  By convincing him?  If he thinks you are in any way doing this 
 for your own gain, then it won't work."  
 
 "You mean, what would it mean to me to form a truce with the 
 illustrious Baron Redoak?"  Adrian kept the sneer from his face, 
 but his tone carried the bitterness of wormwood.
 
 "Yes."
 
Silence.  "Four hundred years, Niamh," he said.  "Four hundred years of
being called That Actor, of having him revile me for something that was no
fault of mine.  You ask me what I have to gain?  I don't hope to make him a
friend, but I would like to stop having him as an enemy.  I hope to gain
some sort of... oh, I don't know... understanding?  Peace?  I want to tell
him to his face that I didn't _want_ to pick up that whip.  I want him to
know that I wanted to rescue him.  But he'll never listen to me.  Not him,
up in his ivory tower."

"You may be surprised," the healer replied.  "I think he might be ready to
listen.  You forget that I've heard both sides of the same story, and I
think the truth lies somewhere in the middle, as it usually does.  You both
need to meet in that middle.  But what are you really hoping for?  Because
if you want to do this just so that you can call him names..."

Adrian held up a hand.  "Oh, God, don't remind me of that stupid award
ceremony.  I got what I deserved for that.  I don't know what I'm hoping
for."  He gave her a smile robbed of his usual roguishness.   "Healing,
perhaps?"  He toyed with his now-empty glass.  "I just know I'm willing to
try."  He stared at the wall, and Pandora knew that he was not looking at
paint and plaster.

"I have so few friends," he said.  "I don't hope to make the Baron one, but
at least I can cross one enemy off my list.  And Jake likes him..." he
shrugged, a bit embarrassed to be showing so much of the real Adrian to
this quiet woman.  "Hey, I've dropped my trousers for you," he said
lightly.  "Guess I should drop a couple of masks, too.  Like I said, I want
to try."

 "I'll speak with him then...or better yet, someone who has more 
 influence with him than anyone,"  Pandora announced, and 
 immediately crossed to the corner of the room and picked up the 
 phone. 
_________
To be continued


Baron Gideon Redoak,  redoak@interlog.com
"Tell me you do not want to become a vampire because it is... what is that
expression?... cool." (From "Reprise" by A. Fraser)
Oakwoods Home Page: http://www.crosswinds.net/~redoak/ 
Centre Stage: http://www.redrival.com/thatactor/
My Other Home Page:  http://members.tripod.com/~Anne_F/index.html
The Site Formerly Known as Oakwoods: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/3743/