Trickster Backstory
Apr. 8th, 2007 06:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galI really tried to get the Taming the Muse prompt into the last chapter of Experience Curve, but the abacus reference turned into calculus, and I couldn't get it to turn back into abacus without getting weird, so here's something different.
This is a bit I wrote a while ago for twit_trisana. It shows the backstory of Xan, Childe of Nusa, back when he was human.
This is the new bit I just wrote...
This is a bit I wrote a while ago for twit_trisana. It shows the backstory of Xan, Childe of Nusa, back when he was human.
Parents and Childer
Xan Thonuzoba strode through the corridor, his boots making echoes that chased him as he headed for his father's chamber. How dare his father forbid him from the hunts. For the hundredth time, Xan cursed the fever that had taken his older brother. As the younger son, he had been free to pursue his own interests, but now his father's edicts chafed him at every turn.
The heavy doors to the hall stood open, and Xan entered. He bowed low to his father who sat facing the fire, a rug thrown over his lap.
"Father," Xan said carefully. His father may need him as heir, but Xan would not mistake that need for love or assume his father would not order him whipped as easily as he would any common serf. Xan need only learn that lesson once.
"Boy," the elder Thonuzoba said. The rug over his lap carried the design of a charging boar, the symbol for their family name, but it wasn't boar hunting that Xan itched for.
"Father, mother says you have forbidden the hunts."
"Since you know, why do you bother me?" the lord asked. He put down the scroll and looked up at his son with a frown.
"I hoped you would allow me to argue my case, father," Xan said respectfully.
"The death of Prince Imre has burdened the people, and you will not add to that by risking your own neck in the hunt."
"But the vampire—"
"Enough," Thonuzoba bellowed, standing so that the rug slid to the floor. "You will obey, or I will beat obedience into you."
Xan stood frozen for a moment, frustration and fear warring within him. "Yes, father," he finally agreed. Arguing with his father never worked since the man had little interest in or respect for his younger son, so Xan simply bit his tongue and backed from the room.
The vampyr would hunt again tonight. Every second or third night they walked the villages, telling the serfs that those who forgot to worship would pay with blood. Neither King István nor his own stubborn father would convince the people to abandon the old ways and embrace Christianity if they refused to deal with the vampyr and their power.
Xan had fought them two nights ago, slipping the sharpened end of a wooden cross into a curved breast before the woman had exploded into dust. The others had scattered, but Xan had no doubt they would return tonight.
"Xan?"
He looked up to see his mother smiling at him, her face pale with the fever that had so recently sent her to her bed.
"Mother. You shouldn't be up," Xan said quickly as he went to support her uneven steps. Her face was cool and sweaty, and Xan cursed the servant who had allowed her out of her bed with such an unsteady gait.
"I had thought you might anger your father," she said, glancing toward the open door to the great hall.
"No more than usual," Xan promised.
"You have always been a good son," she said, but Xan shushed her as he guided her toward the stairs. "No. You have a visitor. We must be polite and greet them," she insisted weakly.
"I will greet the visitor, you rest," Xan corrected her.
"I am not so weak as to forget that I am the lady of this manor, and neither shall you," she said firmly as she turned to the small front room. In the cold of winter, the room would be cold enough for ice to form on the windows, but Xan could not tug his mother toward the warmer safety of her room. "No," she insisted firmly.
Xan sighed as he resigned himself to supporting her weight and hoping the visitor would leave soon.
"Ah, is this your charming son?" a woman's voice asked. Xan looked up into the dark eyes of a stunning woman. She was close to Xan's own twenty years, but black hair flowed down her back as though she were a child too young to bind it.
"Nusa," his mother greeted the stranger warmly as she stepped forward and held out her hands.
"This is my son, Xan of the family Thonuzoba, heir to Lord Thonuzoba, favored of King István."
"So much title for such a young man," Nusa smiled as she looked toward Xan and offered a small curtsy.
Xan gave an answering bow. "My lady, I am most pleased to meet any acquaintance of my mother's."
"Ah, but I am more than an acquaintance," Nusa corrected him, but she did so lightly, a laugh almost dancing on her lips so that Xan could not take offense at the correction.
"I had thought I knew my mother's lineage, but if you are some family, I offer my sincerest apologies, my lady."
"So polite. Come, sit with me," Nusa said as she returned to the seat closest to the window where the wind crawled around the cracks and chilled to the bone. Xan went with a small, confused look toward his mother.
"I will admit to being confused, my lady," Xan finally said as he sat next to her.
"Your mother speaks so highly of you."
Xan glanced toward his mother and then back to the stranger again. Perhaps she came bearing an offer of marriage. She was not the daughter of any local lord or Xan would have known her, but he had to admit that he found her smile as intoxicating as any wine, and she had a beauty he couldn't define.
"My mother sometimes exaggerates my qualities, as a good mother often does," Xan replied modestly. His mother smiled at him from across the room.
"You were always my favorite. Your brother was coarse, but you have more grace, my son," his mother whispered. "I only wish you could be mine again." Xan watched his mother's smile grow sharp, her eyes yellow and her face distort into a mask. He went to stand, but a strong arm pulled him back down to the bench. He turned to find Nusa staring at him with yellow eyes.
"No," he whispered. He had no weapons, and no servants would be so near the front of the house. He jerked, but inhuman strength held him immobile.
"If you are as good for me as you were for your own dear mother, perhaps you shall become a favorite of mine, as well," Nusa suggested with a tilt of her head. Fear tangled in Xan's entrails until he couldn't breathe.
"Shhh, child," Nusa hushed him before she bent close, pulling down his collar and kissing his neck. Xan jerked again, but strong hands held him helpless. "Such a pretty boy," she muttered against his skin as she nipped at the flesh. Xan watched his own mother turn her back as she walked confidently to the door where she stood watching the corridor.
"Mother," Xan called weakly.
"Too late to call for her; now you will learn to call for your sire," Nusa said before she drove fangs into Xan's neck.
Xan Thonuzoba strode through the corridor, his boots making echoes that chased him as he headed for his father's chamber. How dare his father forbid him from the hunts. For the hundredth time, Xan cursed the fever that had taken his older brother. As the younger son, he had been free to pursue his own interests, but now his father's edicts chafed him at every turn.
The heavy doors to the hall stood open, and Xan entered. He bowed low to his father who sat facing the fire, a rug thrown over his lap.
"Father," Xan said carefully. His father may need him as heir, but Xan would not mistake that need for love or assume his father would not order him whipped as easily as he would any common serf. Xan need only learn that lesson once.
"Boy," the elder Thonuzoba said. The rug over his lap carried the design of a charging boar, the symbol for their family name, but it wasn't boar hunting that Xan itched for.
"Father, mother says you have forbidden the hunts."
"Since you know, why do you bother me?" the lord asked. He put down the scroll and looked up at his son with a frown.
"I hoped you would allow me to argue my case, father," Xan said respectfully.
"The death of Prince Imre has burdened the people, and you will not add to that by risking your own neck in the hunt."
"But the vampire—"
"Enough," Thonuzoba bellowed, standing so that the rug slid to the floor. "You will obey, or I will beat obedience into you."
Xan stood frozen for a moment, frustration and fear warring within him. "Yes, father," he finally agreed. Arguing with his father never worked since the man had little interest in or respect for his younger son, so Xan simply bit his tongue and backed from the room.
The vampyr would hunt again tonight. Every second or third night they walked the villages, telling the serfs that those who forgot to worship would pay with blood. Neither King István nor his own stubborn father would convince the people to abandon the old ways and embrace Christianity if they refused to deal with the vampyr and their power.
Xan had fought them two nights ago, slipping the sharpened end of a wooden cross into a curved breast before the woman had exploded into dust. The others had scattered, but Xan had no doubt they would return tonight.
"Xan?"
He looked up to see his mother smiling at him, her face pale with the fever that had so recently sent her to her bed.
"Mother. You shouldn't be up," Xan said quickly as he went to support her uneven steps. Her face was cool and sweaty, and Xan cursed the servant who had allowed her out of her bed with such an unsteady gait.
"I had thought you might anger your father," she said, glancing toward the open door to the great hall.
"No more than usual," Xan promised.
"You have always been a good son," she said, but Xan shushed her as he guided her toward the stairs. "No. You have a visitor. We must be polite and greet them," she insisted weakly.
"I will greet the visitor, you rest," Xan corrected her.
"I am not so weak as to forget that I am the lady of this manor, and neither shall you," she said firmly as she turned to the small front room. In the cold of winter, the room would be cold enough for ice to form on the windows, but Xan could not tug his mother toward the warmer safety of her room. "No," she insisted firmly.
Xan sighed as he resigned himself to supporting her weight and hoping the visitor would leave soon.
"Ah, is this your charming son?" a woman's voice asked. Xan looked up into the dark eyes of a stunning woman. She was close to Xan's own twenty years, but black hair flowed down her back as though she were a child too young to bind it.
"Nusa," his mother greeted the stranger warmly as she stepped forward and held out her hands.
"This is my son, Xan of the family Thonuzoba, heir to Lord Thonuzoba, favored of King István."
"So much title for such a young man," Nusa smiled as she looked toward Xan and offered a small curtsy.
Xan gave an answering bow. "My lady, I am most pleased to meet any acquaintance of my mother's."
"Ah, but I am more than an acquaintance," Nusa corrected him, but she did so lightly, a laugh almost dancing on her lips so that Xan could not take offense at the correction.
"I had thought I knew my mother's lineage, but if you are some family, I offer my sincerest apologies, my lady."
"So polite. Come, sit with me," Nusa said as she returned to the seat closest to the window where the wind crawled around the cracks and chilled to the bone. Xan went with a small, confused look toward his mother.
"I will admit to being confused, my lady," Xan finally said as he sat next to her.
"Your mother speaks so highly of you."
Xan glanced toward his mother and then back to the stranger again. Perhaps she came bearing an offer of marriage. She was not the daughter of any local lord or Xan would have known her, but he had to admit that he found her smile as intoxicating as any wine, and she had a beauty he couldn't define.
"My mother sometimes exaggerates my qualities, as a good mother often does," Xan replied modestly. His mother smiled at him from across the room.
"You were always my favorite. Your brother was coarse, but you have more grace, my son," his mother whispered. "I only wish you could be mine again." Xan watched his mother's smile grow sharp, her eyes yellow and her face distort into a mask. He went to stand, but a strong arm pulled him back down to the bench. He turned to find Nusa staring at him with yellow eyes.
"No," he whispered. He had no weapons, and no servants would be so near the front of the house. He jerked, but inhuman strength held him immobile.
"If you are as good for me as you were for your own dear mother, perhaps you shall become a favorite of mine, as well," Nusa suggested with a tilt of her head. Fear tangled in Xan's entrails until he couldn't breathe.
"Shhh, child," Nusa hushed him before she bent close, pulling down his collar and kissing his neck. Xan jerked again, but strong hands held him helpless. "Such a pretty boy," she muttered against his skin as she nipped at the flesh. Xan watched his own mother turn her back as she walked confidently to the door where she stood watching the corridor.
"Mother," Xan called weakly.
"Too late to call for her; now you will learn to call for your sire," Nusa said before she drove fangs into Xan's neck.
This is the new bit I just wrote...
Implacable
Xan woke hungry. Ravenous. His stomach ached for food and he sat up with a snarl. His room looked different. The stone walls looked rougher, and he could see tiny holes where mortar had crumbled and light slipped between stones. The tapestry hung across from his bed no longer reminded him of the summer because he did not see the carefully woven scene; he focused on each knot and every individual thread.
The strange changes so captivated him, that Xan forgot his hunger for a moment as he struggled with memories that pressed into his mind. Slowly, he stood from the bed and walked to the middle of the room
"Mother?" he called. Anger made him snarl the name. She'd led him to a trap. But not. Xan shook his head as the anger turned to gratitude. She'd made him new. No. She hadn't. Nusa had.
Xan looked around the room, and there she was, her black hair flowing down the front of her shoulders as she watched him. She sat on a low carved bench that stood under a heavily shuttered and draped window.
"Sire?" Xan asked softly, afraid to presume too much.
"You wake well, young lord," the vampyra said as she stood. Her face shifted and her yellow eyes flashed at him. Xan dropped his eyes to the ground and bowed his head. She was power. She was sire.
Waiting to learn if he would pass inspection, Xan waited, almost missing the sound of a beating heart. When his father would pass judgment, Xan would count each heart beat and wait for either the threatened punishment or the moment when his father would turn away without a word. From his father, he'd learned to expect either fury or disdain.
Instead Xan felt fingers brush through his shoulder-length waves of hair.
"Such a pretty boy, and so controlled. I had expected hungry pleas or mindless violence," Nusa commented. The words reminded Xan of his ravenous need.
"I do hunger, Lady," he said softly, not sure whether her petting had given him leave to call her sire.
"No doubt," she agreed amicably before wandering the room. Watching from behind his hair, which tumbled forward, Xan simply observed as she walked the room, running delicate fingers over the tapestry and stopping at the polearm hung from the wall. With a smile, she ran a finger over the sharp metal, and the scent of blood made Xan's face ache. He reached up and felt his own ridges. He smiled and used a finger to feel the sharp fangs that had descended from his upper teeth.
"This would do a man great damage," Nusa commented.
"Yes, my Lady," Xan agreed. He'd once taken off a rider's leg at the hip with that polearm. Despite his valor in battle, his father had only cared for the horse Xan had ridden to lameness.
"King István should meet with such an end, but you and I shall not get close enough to serve that punishment," Nusa said sadly.
"My Lady, ask, and I shall find a way to sink my weapon into his guts for you," Xan hurried to offer as he stepped forward. Nusa turned and smiled at him.
"You are as true as your mother vowed." Nusa stepped forward and raised her hand to Xan's cheek, cupping it for a moment. "And if I warned you that István knows well of the vampyr and has taken precautions against us?"
"I seek only permission to pursue his death, even if I die trying," Xan assured her.
"Childe," Nusa muttered, and Xan could feel the fear and tension pulled from his body with that single word. He was childe, not minion or one to be cast off without ever being given a title at all.
"Sire," he answered reverently.
"We can hurt the king in other ways, take his followers from him," Nusa said as she turned again to the room. Xan waited as she picked up a gold finger-ring and twirled it. She stopped at a board with stones, each inscribed with an Arabic number.
"What is this curiosity?"
"An abacus, Sire. Pope Sylvester offered a number to King István, who gifted one to my father."
"He must value you to let the heir keep such a treasure in his room," Nusa said as she plucked two small stones from the board.
"No, Sire," Xan shook his head. "My fa… Lord Thonuzoba wished only to remind me that I am a fool who cannot learn to the use of it, not even with a tutor." He flinched from that confession. While he could do well enough with regular numbers, the I for one, the V for a handful five, the X for a man with his ten fingers, he could never fully grasp the new numbers with their curves that looked so much alike, and the insane way that the placement changed how much they meant. A number should be a number, never changing, and yet the tutor had spoken impatiently of columns and places until Xan's head pounded and he had turned phlegmatic.
Nusa laughed, and Xan physically stepped back. He could feel doubt press in on him. Doubt and fear. Now sire knew he was useless. He could feel his unwanted blush, and all hunger vanished under the failure.
"And can he use it, young lord?" she finally demanded.
Xan could not find words for a moment, and finally he shook his head. "No, my Lady."
"You will learn what is needful: how to hunt, the sweet taste of a human death, the ways to please me."
"Yes, Sire," Xan quickly agreed. Nusa turned and looked at him before raising her fist, the valuable stones still in it. Slowly she squeezed and Xan could hear the sharp crack as first one stone and then the other yielded to her strength.
"Then do not worry about things which do not matter," she said as she opened her hand to show five small shards of stone and dust. She dropped them to the ground and headed toward the door.
"The sun sets soon, and you must see to your father."
"Feed?" Xan asked, a feeling of cold joy running through him at the idea of ripping through his father's flesh.
"You shall feed first, but I do not want Lord Thonuzoba touched. You must hide your true face from him."
"Sire?" Xan asked, confused.
"You shall confront him in front of the land owners. You shall condemn him as a heretic and a blasphemer and as a coward who refuses to face the vampyr out of fear for his own life. You shall say all the lovely things you have thought for so many years, and then you shall walk out of the room and return to me." Nusa whispered the words as she stood in the hall just outside Xan's room. Xan smiled as he thought of the many things he would say. Yes, he knew the words.
"I can see your cruel thoughts, childe," Nusa used a hand behind Xan's neck to yank him forward, and before Xan could respond, her lips pressed to his, demanding wantonly as her other hand reached down and grabbed his cock. When she pulled back, her lips were stained with blood from their teeth clashing, and Xan licked the small cut on his mouth.
"Sire," he breathed.
"Do this for me. Crush him and denounce him, and walk out still wearing your human face. I know your urge to kill and rend, but obey me, and I will reward you, childe," she said with a wicked smile, and Xan knew he would do anything for her.
"Yes, sire," he agreed without hesitation. Turning to the steep stone stairs, he hurried down them, anxious to prove that he could control his hunger and his anger well enough to please his new sire in a way he never had his old one.
Xan woke hungry. Ravenous. His stomach ached for food and he sat up with a snarl. His room looked different. The stone walls looked rougher, and he could see tiny holes where mortar had crumbled and light slipped between stones. The tapestry hung across from his bed no longer reminded him of the summer because he did not see the carefully woven scene; he focused on each knot and every individual thread.
The strange changes so captivated him, that Xan forgot his hunger for a moment as he struggled with memories that pressed into his mind. Slowly, he stood from the bed and walked to the middle of the room
"Mother?" he called. Anger made him snarl the name. She'd led him to a trap. But not. Xan shook his head as the anger turned to gratitude. She'd made him new. No. She hadn't. Nusa had.
Xan looked around the room, and there she was, her black hair flowing down the front of her shoulders as she watched him. She sat on a low carved bench that stood under a heavily shuttered and draped window.
"Sire?" Xan asked softly, afraid to presume too much.
"You wake well, young lord," the vampyra said as she stood. Her face shifted and her yellow eyes flashed at him. Xan dropped his eyes to the ground and bowed his head. She was power. She was sire.
Waiting to learn if he would pass inspection, Xan waited, almost missing the sound of a beating heart. When his father would pass judgment, Xan would count each heart beat and wait for either the threatened punishment or the moment when his father would turn away without a word. From his father, he'd learned to expect either fury or disdain.
Instead Xan felt fingers brush through his shoulder-length waves of hair.
"Such a pretty boy, and so controlled. I had expected hungry pleas or mindless violence," Nusa commented. The words reminded Xan of his ravenous need.
"I do hunger, Lady," he said softly, not sure whether her petting had given him leave to call her sire.
"No doubt," she agreed amicably before wandering the room. Watching from behind his hair, which tumbled forward, Xan simply observed as she walked the room, running delicate fingers over the tapestry and stopping at the polearm hung from the wall. With a smile, she ran a finger over the sharp metal, and the scent of blood made Xan's face ache. He reached up and felt his own ridges. He smiled and used a finger to feel the sharp fangs that had descended from his upper teeth.
"This would do a man great damage," Nusa commented.
"Yes, my Lady," Xan agreed. He'd once taken off a rider's leg at the hip with that polearm. Despite his valor in battle, his father had only cared for the horse Xan had ridden to lameness.
"King István should meet with such an end, but you and I shall not get close enough to serve that punishment," Nusa said sadly.
"My Lady, ask, and I shall find a way to sink my weapon into his guts for you," Xan hurried to offer as he stepped forward. Nusa turned and smiled at him.
"You are as true as your mother vowed." Nusa stepped forward and raised her hand to Xan's cheek, cupping it for a moment. "And if I warned you that István knows well of the vampyr and has taken precautions against us?"
"I seek only permission to pursue his death, even if I die trying," Xan assured her.
"Childe," Nusa muttered, and Xan could feel the fear and tension pulled from his body with that single word. He was childe, not minion or one to be cast off without ever being given a title at all.
"Sire," he answered reverently.
"We can hurt the king in other ways, take his followers from him," Nusa said as she turned again to the room. Xan waited as she picked up a gold finger-ring and twirled it. She stopped at a board with stones, each inscribed with an Arabic number.
"What is this curiosity?"
"An abacus, Sire. Pope Sylvester offered a number to King István, who gifted one to my father."
"He must value you to let the heir keep such a treasure in his room," Nusa said as she plucked two small stones from the board.
"No, Sire," Xan shook his head. "My fa… Lord Thonuzoba wished only to remind me that I am a fool who cannot learn to the use of it, not even with a tutor." He flinched from that confession. While he could do well enough with regular numbers, the I for one, the V for a handful five, the X for a man with his ten fingers, he could never fully grasp the new numbers with their curves that looked so much alike, and the insane way that the placement changed how much they meant. A number should be a number, never changing, and yet the tutor had spoken impatiently of columns and places until Xan's head pounded and he had turned phlegmatic.
Nusa laughed, and Xan physically stepped back. He could feel doubt press in on him. Doubt and fear. Now sire knew he was useless. He could feel his unwanted blush, and all hunger vanished under the failure.
"And can he use it, young lord?" she finally demanded.
Xan could not find words for a moment, and finally he shook his head. "No, my Lady."
"You will learn what is needful: how to hunt, the sweet taste of a human death, the ways to please me."
"Yes, Sire," Xan quickly agreed. Nusa turned and looked at him before raising her fist, the valuable stones still in it. Slowly she squeezed and Xan could hear the sharp crack as first one stone and then the other yielded to her strength.
"Then do not worry about things which do not matter," she said as she opened her hand to show five small shards of stone and dust. She dropped them to the ground and headed toward the door.
"The sun sets soon, and you must see to your father."
"Feed?" Xan asked, a feeling of cold joy running through him at the idea of ripping through his father's flesh.
"You shall feed first, but I do not want Lord Thonuzoba touched. You must hide your true face from him."
"Sire?" Xan asked, confused.
"You shall confront him in front of the land owners. You shall condemn him as a heretic and a blasphemer and as a coward who refuses to face the vampyr out of fear for his own life. You shall say all the lovely things you have thought for so many years, and then you shall walk out of the room and return to me." Nusa whispered the words as she stood in the hall just outside Xan's room. Xan smiled as he thought of the many things he would say. Yes, he knew the words.
"I can see your cruel thoughts, childe," Nusa used a hand behind Xan's neck to yank him forward, and before Xan could respond, her lips pressed to his, demanding wantonly as her other hand reached down and grabbed his cock. When she pulled back, her lips were stained with blood from their teeth clashing, and Xan licked the small cut on his mouth.
"Sire," he breathed.
"Do this for me. Crush him and denounce him, and walk out still wearing your human face. I know your urge to kill and rend, but obey me, and I will reward you, childe," she said with a wicked smile, and Xan knew he would do anything for her.
"Yes, sire," he agreed without hesitation. Turning to the steep stone stairs, he hurried down them, anxious to prove that he could control his hunger and his anger well enough to please his new sire in a way he never had his old one.
