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~:~Live Hard, Bite Harder~:~ Silver x Claude's Bird (18+ VampirexElf RP)


Silver Radiance
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Are you ready to BLEED for me?

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Yes, what you heard is true..

 

I am indeed one of the five feared Vampire Lords of the Crystal Castle. I am here in this peaceful Elven village to claim the one rumored to have the 'Green Blood' of legend, containing the most potent life giving organisms, able to heal the sick, repair the wounded and deliver great strength to a Vampire such as myself. It is the most potent blood in existence and no other is its equal. For centuries we have searched and failed to find a legitimate carrier.

 

If this being does not exist and it was all just stories, we will kill you.

 

If you with hold this being from us, we will crush every head upon the trees you so adore.

 

If you allow them to flee, you will all die painfully and slowly.

 

However, if you allow me and only me to bond with this member of your Elven kin, I will defend your village and people from the other four Lords and forsake my place amongst them.

 

This is the only option where you have a chance to survive.

 

It is your decision.

 

~Obsidian~

 

___________________________________________________________________________

 

It had been exactly five days since that letter had been provided, at great risk, to the village.

 

There was far too much at stake..

 

There were five Vampire Lords in total, all with their own impressive skills and abilities.. All ruthless and all under oath to act as a unit... a family.

 

Though they had not been related by blood, they called each other 'brother' and treated each member as such. Now, through all of that 'loyalty', one had separated in order to make a private deal... And though he had been more than careful, it seemed as if they had caught wind of the plan..

 

The light in the sky was slipping, like the dying hand of the last soldier on the battlefield that had been reaching out, begging to be saved suddenly dropping into that thick cloud of darkness..

 

Now there would be nothing left but black.

 

Without delay, the strong nocturnal male marched into the village as soon as the sun had finally disappeared from the eyes of the night, granting the stars the right to shine bright against the velvet black backdrop. Sadly, there was no time to even offer another day of consideration. All of the grains of sand in the hour glass had run out.

 

Dangerous Vampiric eyes were burning with the bright fiery nature of the pits of hell, threatening to consume all who would dare to stand in the path of such a deeply dangerous creature.. Even as Elves came into view, their existance meant little against the threat of not obtaining what he so desired. Not even the immeasurable beauty of the 'village in the treetops' could sway his sight from the goal of the main hall.

 

The four brothers were but a nights ride away, it was not safe anymore. As soon as they arrived they would turn the village to rubble and take the Green Blood for themselves, leaving him out for being too hasty, no doubt.

 

The right hand of the dark creature rose, tensing into a claw like shape, as if to issue a silent threat to all who would gaze upon him with those beautiful Elven eyes with the ache to exterminate his existance. Silver strands, so soft against pale cheeks, would not even dare to obscure the crimson vision that screamed out for blood of the purest grade.

 

Even now.. He could feel it..

 

Those eyes trained upon him up in the tree tops.. Full of fear.. Full of desperation..

 

There was nothing such a peaceful race could do to hold up against beings that had spent centuries perfecting murder with such delightful pleasure.

 

Suddenly the low zing reached the accute hearing of the Vampire, but he was not in the mood to stop. A hand reached up, capturing the arrow that ached to pierce through that strong chest. The force that had slung the arrow forward had earned a few splinters into the black glove, but little more damage was granted. The body of the arrow was greeted with intense pressure, those fingers squeezing so tightly until the wood gave way and snapped in half before being discarded on the path.

 

Nothing was going to get in the way of this horrifying creature.

 

After the initial arrow, it seemed to come in torrents, each archer seeming more horrified than the last, their hands shaking as they fired and missed narrowly before noticing their error.

 

Although unwelcome, the defensive nature of these creatures meant nothing to him. The rocks that rested underfoot began to rise until they shot up, surfacing to intercept each arrow with dangerous timing, only barely saving that pale skin from harm. After being struck, each stone dragged behind like a cloak of rock, hovering above the dark fabric, seeming drawn to it in an unearthly manner.

 

It had become irritating after a while, though he had offered salvation he was greeted with such unpleasant hostility.. Such was the life of a beast, it seemed. A murderous hand descended to touch against the handle of the sword, each finger coiling around like serpents threatening to strike at any moment.

 

Not a single arrow dared to leave the clutch of its bow. It seemed as if the 'sword which had to taste blood once drawn' was known to these creautres, even so far out. How convinient, why even bother firing in the first place?

 

Lips parted to convey the message as continued along the path, now within earshot of the meeting hall where he had hoped someone of importance who knew of the letter was indeed present.

 

"I grow tired of such an unpleasant welcome. Answer my demands and be spared or face the wrath and damnation of my brothers and become dust."

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Usually around this time of night the air was filled with the myriad smells of the earth and the forest, the sounds of rustling leaves as the breath of the wind caressed through the treetops, nocturnal animals scurrying about on the forest floor, the cries of owls gliding through the trees on silent wings, foxes calling out for mates, and everything else nature had to offer after dark. Life. But tonight it was like Death itself had walked into the village burying everything under a thick, stifling blanket of sheer terror. It seemed like every little creature had disappeared trying to escape the predator that was walking down the path towards the meeting hall and even the trees themselves seemed to tremble with a deep fear as the tall dark male passed by.

 

Inside the meeting hall, hidden away in the servants room, Merwen could hear the low humming sound of a barrage of arrows cleaving the air, followed by another one and yet another. From where he was sitting it sounded almost like a distant swarm of insects. The odd clicking and cracking sounds that followed were not the sounds of metal arrowheads hitting flesh he was expecting. The beautiful young elf grit his teeth, a shiver passing through his lithe frame as a strong feeling of impending doom crept upon him. Something was very wrong indeed. He should be out there with his comrades, not in here hiding with the servant women. But the village elder himself had ordered him to stay here while most of the experienced archers had been sent out to lie in wait for the unwelcome visitor, so he had complied. He was still only an archer in training after all, and the elder must have had his reasons. And sensing the fear emanating from every inch of the village and even from the wood he was standing on, part of him was very glad he was in here and not out there.

 

Slender fingers pushed a strand of long, silky, golden blond hair that had escaped his simple ponytail out of eyes so green that they rivaled the brightness of the lush spring forest itself, and tucked it safely behind an elegantly pointed ear. Those eyes shifted towards the young women that were cowering in the corner behind him, staring at the door with eyes wide with dread as they clutched each other tightly. And only a week ago everything had been so peaceful...

 

Five days ago everything had suddenly changed. He had still been living his uneventful life then, training to be an archer, working as an apprentice in the metal workshop and doing the things a young unmarried elf was supposed to do. Then something had happened that warranted an immediate council meeting. His father had also been invited. That night Merwen had heard his parents arguing in the hallway outside his bedroom. His mother had been crying, his father had tried to comfort her. From then on she had been different, hovering around him almost constantly yet unable to look at him for long without tears forming in her eyes for some reason. She hadn't been able to bring herself to tell him why.

 

During the following days the news had spread. Apparently some evil lord was coming to claim a person with green blood, whatever that meant, had threatened to demolish the village and kill everyone if they didn't give him what he wanted. What kind of lord he was, noone would talk about, but there were whispers. He was said to be of a dark race, cruel, merciless and incredibly strong, a monster that drank blood.

 

Merwen had remembered hearing rumors about green blood from traders passing through the treetop village when he was still a boy. Back then he also hadn't understood, elven blood was red like everyone else's and even now he couldn't think of anything or anyone in the village that could possibly be what this lord was looking for. The council had taken everything extremely serious all the same. They had deliberated for days and had eventually announced that an enemy was coming to claim the legendary Green Blood and that everything the peaceful tree dwellers could do needed to be done to stop him. But judging from how badly the attack outside seemed to be failing, everything they could do was not nearly enough...

 

Those long fingers gripped tightly around the elegant, silver dagger hanging from the young elf's belt instinctively as he heard an unknown, but deeply terrifying voice bellow from outside, its owner clearly losing his patience. The delicate build of those slender hands belied their true strength, as they were more than capable of wielding the deadly metal and handling the taut string of the mighty longbow resting on his slender back, and were quite willing to do so right now despite the goosebumps that had formed all over his smooth skin at the sound of that voice. He rose from his cramped crouching position, a grimace playing over his delicate features as the blood flow in his long legs resumed after sitting in the same position for what must have been hours. The fine fabric of his short tunic brushed the wall as he pressed his back against the rough surface, his hand moving towards the door knob to open the door just a smidge, a finger over his soft lips signaling the girls behind him to be absolutely quiet. Fear made his heart beat wildly in his throat, but he just had to see what was going on out there...

 

Outside in the large meeting room the village elder was preparing to face the dark lord. He had known he had made a mistake as soon as that wave of dread had come rolling into the village, darkly heralding the arrival of the demonic vampire lord bent on collecting his prize. This man had turned out to be so much stronger and more terrifying than anything his archers had ever faced that even the hands of his most experienced warriors trembled with fear and no arrow could even graze him. The tall elf leader knew he had no choice now, he had to give up the one the vampire sought, or condemn his people to instant death.

 

The other members of the council crowded behind him, five in total, three men and two women, all dressed in long, flowing robes. Around them, along the walls, hidden from view to anyone outside, archers were standing at the ready, arrows already on their bows, ready to protect their leaders the moment something would come through the front door. The wise men and women exchanged nervous glances, then followed after their leader as he straightened his broad shoulders, stepped into the doorway and brought his fingers to his lips. A sharp whistling sound ripped the air and the archers in the trees, most of whom had already ceased firing when the intruder had unsheathed his terrible sword, immediately lowered their quivering weapons. A deathly silence followed, broken only by the elder's clear, be it slightly trembling, voice.

 

"Please forgive us our indiscretion, your Lordship, and let us talk, we see now that resistance is futile, please let us negotiate to honor your demands."

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"No more talk!"

 

A hand thrust out to the side, the last word had been cast down, those eyes were glowing dangerously, fangs protruding to offer a very clear vision of his true nature as a beast. Though the brothers were said to be quite regal creatures, monsters in the form of mortals, this man seemed completely out of hand. The request had been reckless, his entrance had been reckless and even now he was continuing the pattern.

 

The fingers contracted on that hand at the side, slowly it raised, higher and higher over that torso and infront of the strong chest before raising to hold before his left eye. The guard on the back of his hand held such delicate patterns but even the chosen intricate design spoke of pure chaos. There was something about him that was deeply uneven, a powerful madness that haunted the scene and made everything seem so much darker.

 

"I want..."

 

The man started, the words were simple and yet the stones that had gathered around his cloak seemed to snake up, attracted by something unseen, as if they were being dragged. They coiled around like a serpent, leaving only a little space between themselves and his wrist, sliding over the limb as if wordlessly sensing an oncoming order.. Waiting.. Watching.. Something with no cognitive thinking, so carefully aligned and displaying the traits of servitude.

 

This was highly dangerous.

 

"I WANT!"

 

The tone was horrific, loud and powerful as those dangerous blood red eyes opened even wider, as if opening the doors to hell its self, no longer a threat but an inevitability.

 

Each stone remained still, hovering there, waiting for the word like obedient archers holding their arrows at the ready, marked on target, completely and utterly confident of their aim.

 

How could anyone hope to reason with such a chaotic being? All at once everything came crashing town in a torrent of rage.

 

"I WANT MY GREEN BLOOD!"

 

That hand thrust out, offering a clear order of charge and the stones shot forward like bullets, thrown with such power that they shot through the trees and buried themselves into the path below. Some were crushed upon impact after making an unhealthy dent while others passed through several trees before crumbling into dust. While in the air, they traveled one direction, no longer holding that feeling of personality and consciousness. Their lives of their free will had been born and concluded so quickly, all in the service of the dangerous Vampire known as Obsidian.

 

What had made them move? Why would they obey?

 

It was a mystery.

 

What was evident with actual fact, however, was the clarity of rage that promised a much worse assault of madness soon to come as the shards of wood that had been cleaved from the trees started to snake forward, crawling over that cloak just as the stone had, shifting to wait just as before, the look on that face growing more and more demanding.. More and more.. Demonic.

 

There was a sense of urgency that could not be denied. There was no time left and even if he had to tear the very flesh from every elf in the village he would find out exactly who had that fabelled blood he longed for.

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The dark vampire obviously was not in the mood for negotiating.

 

That terrible voice boomed again in an eruption of anger laced with clear hints of insanity, transforming the simple four-word demand rolling from those snarling lips into a terrifying, inescapable command, backed up by a salvo of rocks exploding from that cruel, strong hand to deeply injure the majestic trees the elves held so dear, a clear example of what might happen to the treedwellers themselves if they wouldn’t meet the dark lord’s demands very soon indeed. A batallion of sharp wood shards was already being lined up for a second assault, ready to wreak havoc and draw blood at a flick of that mighty wrist they coiled around like snakes.

 

The elder narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth, staying where he was and braving the display of terrible power that made his robes flap around his legs and his long pale blond hair dance around his angular face wildly, his mind racing as behind him people screamed and scrambled for cover and archers inside the hall and out drew their bows and locked their arrows on target, ready to defend their leaders with desperate courage. There was a strange urgency to the vampire lord’s rage, a recklessness to his actions that somewhat reminded the elf leader of a dying man hellbent on obtaining the one thing that would save his life. As if he was running out of time for some reason.

 

The letter had spoken of “we”, so the elf council had assumed Obsidian would bring his powerful brothers or at least an army and would just take what he wanted. But here he was, alone, and trying to make himself look as terrifying and deadly as possible and threaten the elves into submission, while in reality he had not harmed a single living being in this village since he set foot onto elf territory and seemed to have no idea what he was even looking for exactly. Even the words he had spoken, ‘face the wrath and damnation of my brothers’, seemed to signal that it was not him they should worry about.

 

The elf leader had never actually met any of the Vampire Lords of Crystal Castle, but he knew that they were all bound by an oath to act as a family and never stand up against one another, for the Lord Obsidian to go against his sworn brothers like this to find the fabled Green Blood that could provide him with such power, something grave must have happened, either the dark Lord had suddenly become power hungry and turned on his kinsmen or something much bigger was going on. Was that why he seemed in such a hurry? Was he expecting his brothers’ retaliation or that of someone or something much stronger still?

 

The elves had wanted no part of any power struggle between the Vampire Lords so they had opted to drive the invader from the village, but seeing the display of power the dark male put on and the insane need in those blood red eyes, it was obvious to the elder that they could never hope to win from a foe as powerful and driven as this one. And if the Dark Lord had indeed angered his brothers or someone else altogether, someone he needed the green blood for to even hope to stand a chance against, then there would be no way out of this. Either they denied the request and Obsidian would destroy them, or they granted it and as was stated in the letter, the other Lords would come and wipe them out anyway. Could they trust the Vampire Lord to fight on their side as he promised?

 

“He’s insane! We have to kill him!”

 

The head of the guard stepped forward, pulling the elder out of his thoughts.

 

“Please, my lord, step out of the line of fire, we must destroy this monster before it destroys us!”

 

“No, Elwyn.” The leader gave a nod to the one waiting outside, acknowledging his demand, then turned back to look the other in the eyes sternly. He had made up his mind.

 

“There will be no killing. Stand down your men.”

 

“But Iluvatain, sir…” the warrior elf protested.

 

“I said no.” Iluvatain lay a hand on the shoulder of his trusted comrade and looked around the circle of council members and archers, all of whom were now staring at him with a mixture of shock, confusion and a faint glimmer of hope in their eyes.

 

“We thought he would bring an army and just take what he wanted,” the elder began, “but he is alone. We greeted him with arrows after he took the risk of coming here against the oath he and his brothers took. He is terrible and he is powerful, he could have wiped us all out and taken what he wanted by now, but he has not. If what the letter says is the truth, as terrifying as he is Lord Obsidian is not the one we should fear most, there is a greater threat coming and we will need his protection if we want to stand any chance of survival at all. If we deny him, we will certainly die, as our arrows are less effective than pine needles against his kind and he is running out of patience. If we trust him, we may have a chance.” He turned to Elwyn once more. “I say this with a heavy heart. Bring in the boy.”

 

The silence that had descended in the room as the elder spoke was palpable, the shocked expressions had changed to reluctant acceptance, sadness and resentful defeat. The elves were a proud people, and surrendering their fate to someone other than their own was not an easy task for any of them. But they were wise beings and they knew in their hearts that their leader was right, and they stood solemnly as the head warrior walked past them to fetch the carrier of the coveted Green Blood.

 

 

Merwen had been glued to the crack in the door all through the elder’s speech. When the dark lord outside had roared his demands and had blasted the rocks into the trees, the young elf had cringed in fear and his knees had given out, but he had refused to back away. Now he was sitting pressed against the ajar door on his knees, a hand on the doorknob to prevent the door from being pushed open by his weight, a soft cheek pressed against the rough wood so he could peek out through the crack.

 

They were going to fetch the boy. What boy? Were there others hidden away here? He looked away in his confusion, refusing for the moment to entertain the possibility that the only boy here was him, and in doing so didn’t notice that Elwyn was coming toward him until suddenly the door was pulled away and he lost his balance, the strong arms of the head archer catching him being the only thing preventing him from falling unceremoniously onto his face into the room. Behind him the girls squeeked in shock. He stared up at the older elf, embarassment coloring his cheeks pink, and let himself be pulled to his feet.

 

“Merwen, you are needed.” The male’s voice was grave, his eyes seemed to avoid the younger’s and Merwen’s stomach suddenly twisted into a tight knot.

 

“N-needed?”

 

Elwyn silently led Merwen to the waiting elder. The look in the eyes of the elves they passed made the knot in the boy’s stomach tighten so hard it hurt, and his feet became heavier with every step. Why did they look at him like he was on his way to be executed for a crime he did not commit? He stared up at the elder, feeling suddenly very small and vulnerable.

 

The older elf smiled, just a little bit forced, and gently placed a hand against the boy’s cheek. “What you are going to do, young one, will save your entire people, remember that.”

 

Merwen gulped, utterly confused and not sure what to say, and let the elder put his hands on his shoulders and lead him to the door opening. One simply did not oppose the village elders, although his body felt like it would betray him at any moment.

 

“Your Lordship, this is the one you seek, please allow us to properly prepare him for you! It is the least we can do after being so inhospitable to Your Lordship earlier!”

 

The elder called out to the waiting Lord, but Merwen barely heard it. He could only stare transfixed at the vampiric male standing there, tall, muscular, the brightness of his silver hair and pale skin in the moonlight contrasting heavily with the dark, demonic aura surrounding him. He seemed to be exuding a dark chaotic power that seemed to electrify the air around him and nail the young elf’s feet to the floor, rendering him completely powerless, making him want to come closer and run away as far as he could yet leaving him unable to move all at once. Wide eyes of the most perfect blood red appeared to want to consume him whole with the insane want smoldering in their depths.

 

And just for a moment, when their eyes locked, he was willing to let them.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Every word that was spoken...

 

Every moment that was being wasted...

 

That dangerous rage was building, the kind that seemed to open those hidden eyes inside that assessed every angle of every threat. Those eyes inside, connected yet disconnected, apart of him yet separate. Every movement of them could be felt, signalling the end of the path of sanity and the beginning of chaotic insanity. That darker part was awakening and threatening to break free of its cage.

 

The whispers had already started, asking the question so simple and yet so very complex.

 

'What do you want?'

 

Even though he had answered. It played over and over as if there was something more required. Each word started to stab, a repeated record over and over, making every muscle twitch until it threatened to come forth.

 

Louder... Louder... Until it was as if those words were screaming inside of his head leaving the elves behind as they tried to speak to him, leaving far too much time for the change to take over.

 

What was his power? It was something more horrifying than one could imagine. There was only one thing that would be able to forge some kind of control about it. One thing that could stop this maddness from taking him over. And it was too far away to save him this time.

 

Outwardly, he looked angry and impatient. At the same time, the scattered pieces of wood that hadn't started to gather were being dragged in, as if the reach had been extended, invisible chains loosened. Something was stirring deep inside of him, something that the others had always feared and he had struggled to control.

 

As the older Elven male offered to prepare Merwen, there was a lifting of those blood red eyes, hazily gazing upon the golden haired male looking quite scared. Even though he wanted to hold that gaze, it was so hard... To keep his eyes... open...

 

Lifting a hand to gaze down at it, the effect was impossible to deny, the blackness was already washing over every inch of his skin, pulling him under. It was already too late.

 

As that dark hand extended, reaching out toward Merwen, crimson eyes narrowed with a silent promise within that determined gaze.

 

For a moment, there was stillness. The first sign of something amiss was those eyes, blood red and dangerous in colour, slowly draining to pure white. Pale silver hair was tainted by blackness, corrupting every strand like oil rushing over it to change it to the colour of midnight. Snow white skin blotched as if diseased with a tanned colour, the whiteness retreating back to allow this darkness to surface without resistance.

 

Immediately, that hand dropped. There was a strange blackness that shimmered into existance, as if it had been under a viel that was now lifted like a curtain encouraging the main actor to take his place on the stage. The thick blackness coiled behind him, holding onto the pieces of wood... Tails? Made from what looked like shadows, replacing one that would normally exist, there were 6 in total at the moment, whipping out to drag in more of those shards with dark fingers attached to them grasping and leading back toward that body that governed them.

 

What was this creature?

 

Eyelids fell half closed for a moment as the last shreds of redness drained back. It was time to sleep. Time to watch the dream unfold in the hands of the sleeper inside who had awoken.

 

All at once those eyes snapped open, the blank canvas of white housed only by the dark rims around each eye narrowed immediately at Merwen. The stance employed was completely different, as the man before them was a completely different person than before, even the steps he took toward the golden haired youth were more pronounced and confident than the rushed Vampire from before.

 

Lifting a hand up with a sense of regal nature, lips parted to finally issue a statement, the voice and accent deeper and smoother than before. How could this be the same man? How could this be someone different?

 

"It seems I have managed to disrupt your peaceful abode without employing manners. Allow me to clarify myself. There is no time for your preparations, hand him over immediately along with a private room for me to perform my ritual..."

 

The dark tails were shifting only slightly, calmly while he spoke. However, when he came to the last few words, one of them whipped down suddenly, the hands of blackness hurling the wooden shards toward the men around Merwen to grant them scratches to the face and tears in their clothing, barely missing their limbs as dangerous eyes narrowed speaking not of chaos, but calculated destruction.

 

"...Or die."

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  • 2 weeks later...

For that one brief moment when blood red met grass green, for the one breath's length of time that their gazes locked, there was nothing but the paralyzing fear of the prey staring into the eyes of the hunter, knowing there is no escape. Then something began to change in those chaotic red depths. That gaze wavered slightly, breaking the spell and snapping Merwen back to reality, then narrowed into a silent promise the boy didn't completely understand, a strong hand reaching out to him in a sudden surprising helplessness as the color in those eyes suddenly started to...withdraw?

 

"N-no...Stop it!"

 

Merwen reached out to the outstretched hand instinctively in spite of his fear, somehow not wanting this change to take place. Why didn't he? Why did he care at all about what happened to this man who wanted his blood and the Valar knew what else?

 

Then the change properly started. Merwen stared petrified as, along with the red, the chaotic intensity disappeared from those orbs, leaving them a pure, ghostly white, while at the same time a terrifying darkness began to spread across that powerful body, covering every inch of pale skin and silver hair and seeming to eat away the very essence of the vampire, leaving a completely different, tan-skinned, raven-haired male in his stead.

 

The young elf struggled to make his feet move when he caught sight of the black shadowy mass coiling organically behind the man, reaching out dark tail-like appendages to draw in more shards of wood, waiting patiently for its master to give permission to use them. Then the man spoke, smoother and calmer than before, and infinitely more dangerous.

 

"It seems I have managed to disrupt your peaceful abode without employing manners. Allow me to clarify myself. There is no time for your preparations, hand him over immediately along with a private room for me to perform my ritual..."

 

Wait, private room? Ritual??

 

"...Or die."

 

Before Merwen could even fully process what had been said, a barrage of sharp wood shards shot in his direction, too fast to duck away from. A scream caught in his throat when the sharp projectiles all blazed past him, close enough to make his hair blow back from the changing air pressure as they passed, ripping at the faces and clothes of the people on either side of him instead. There were cries of shock and elves grabbing for their faces and ducking for cover, archers rushing in to pull away their elders from the line of fire and protect them with their bodies.

 

For a few long seconds he just stood there, wide eyed, mouth agape, not understanding how every one of those shards of wood had managed to miss him. Then survival instinct finally kicked in and he scrambled away from the door, only to find a dozen arrows pointed straight at his back and the head archer glaring at him with a hateful look he had never seen on him before while tending to the elder Iluvatain, who was sitting against the side wall, blood dripping from a laceration across his left temple, mere millimeters away from his eye, and some smaller cuts to the right side of his face. His sleeves showed several tears as well.

 

Elwyn, the head archer, had known from the beginning that negotiating with this monster would be foolish and this attack was clear proof of that. The vampire clearly could not be trusted and now he had literally shown his true colors and had injured and embarrassed Elwyn's beloved leader! He adored Iluvatain, and seeing that fiend not only attack his leader but damage that handsome face so casually without him being able to protect him felt like a personal insult and a disgrace he would do anything to erase.

 

This whole situation was unacceptable, and it was all because of that boy. Iluvatain was far too fond of the beautiful boy to the archer's liking, and look what it got him. Merwen was not a bad kid, but if he wouldn't have been so precious that the others had refused to hand him over until now, none of this would have happened! So he would just have to rectify that situation right now. He glared angrily at the youth, motioning his terrified archers to advance and drive the boy towards the exit. Now that the elder was injured, Elwyn was in command, and by the Valar, he would use that.

 

"What are you waiting for, boy? Do as he says and go with him so that he'll leave us in peace."

 

Merwen stared at the archers wide-eyed and confused, having no other choice but to back away from the slowly advancing arrows. All eyes in the room were focused on him now and the panicky murmur from before had turned to a deadly silence. Even the elder himself seemed to allow the archer to treat him this way, be it with pain in his eyes. A feeling of betrayal was beginning to gnaw at the edges of his soul.

 

"Elwyn, why are you doing this?? Why do you act like you hate me all of a sudden? A-are you really going to sacrifice me just like that?"

 

A hard slap across the face cut off his breath, making him see stars and stagger on his feet clutching his cheek in pain. A shocked gasp escaped the onlookers, but nobody dared step in.

 

"Hold your insolent tongue, boy, and show some respect toward your elders," the archer growled. "It's because of you we're in this mess, because of you that Iluvatain is hurt and we might all DIE, so stop being selfish and take your responsibility toward your people!!"

 

Tears filled the impossibly green eyes as the feeling of betrayal mixed with guilt and shame, a red, hand-shaped welt forming on a pale, otherwise flawless cheek. The archer was right, it was selfish of him, and now his selfishness had caused the man to have to resort to violence. They were a peaceful people, normally none would dare raise a hand against another unless they absolutely had to. The fear of having to surrender himself to that man outside, or rather to what that man had just become, and probably dying was stronger however and once again sent him into survival mode.

 

"No!!"

 

A slender hand shot towards the silver dagger on his belt and shakily jutted it out towards the older man in a desperate, and honestly rather feeble, threat.

 

" I didn't ask for any of this!! I don't know why this is happening or what he wants, I'm not going anywhere and if he wants my blood he's going to have to come and get it!!"

 

Merwen shrieked, turning back to the man outside as he uttered the last words, and in doing so didn't notice the backhand strike until it connected with the side of his head hard enough to make him drop the dagger and send him flying out the door, staggering a few paces backwards until he lost his balance, fell and skidded to a halt right in front of the waiting intruder's feet in a daze.

 

"You have received your precious Green Blood!" the archer called out. "Do whatever you need to do with him and leave us in peace! There is an abandoned hut at the north edge of the village, noone will disturb you there, I will see to it. Let it be clear that we have hereby fulfilled your demands and we have no interest in getting involved in any quarrel or war you are involved in."

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