Chapter Text
“Nothing but fucking rabbits.”
Laudna tossed two underfed lagomorphs towards her companion as she returned to their meagre camp beneath the stars at the mouth of a cave. Sitting on a fallen log by the campfire was Imogen, who shot a look of concern as the limp bodies finished their tumble at her feet. Before she could reach for them, Laudna had already closed the distance to hurriedly pick them up, brushing the rabbits down with a furrowed brow and a whisper of an apology.
She was hungry. Imogen knew that. She knew Laudna wouldn’t have slipped up and treated their lifeless bodies with such disrespect in front of Imogen had it not been so long since her last proper feed. But the short winter days had proven fruitless when it came to finding large enough game, and although it sent a shiver down Imogen's spine to consider it, they hadn’t even had the luck of running into a group of bandits.
The older woman cradled their tiny bodies, a slender finger running along the puncture wounds at their throats where they had been bled dry. Her eyes flicked up to Imogen’s, and beneath those dark lashes lay the dormant gaze of something terrifying, something that screamed silently for her to run and not look back. But as always Imogen was frozen in place, unable to tear her own stare away from those deep, inky pools.
No, not unable. She was perfectly capable of leading her line of sight elsewhere; it certainly wasn’t a supernatural force that locked their eyes together for longer than what would be deemed appropriate. No, she was held there by a will of her own. A refusal to submit to the voice of apprehension in the back of her skull telling her she was mad not to flee. If Imogen were to turn heel and run then she would be no better than the superstitious citizens of Gelvaan, no better than the villagers who chased Laudna out of town time and time again until she succumbed to an arduous life of solitude.
Imogen tried to read her expression. Whether it was a look of frustration, begrudging shame, or something else entirely, she was unsure. Gods, It was infuriating, not being able to tap into Laudna’s surface thoughts and glean even a hint of what she was thinking like Imogen could with everyone else. But on those rare occasions where telepathic communication was necessary, Imogen relished in the paradise that lay nestled in the depths of Laudna’s cranium. Her mind was alien, crawling with whispers and hidden by an impenetrable wall woven from shadows that unfurled like dark tentacles and tugged Imogen inside when she was permitted entry. However, with Laudna’s mounting hunger came a loss of control that set Imogen ablaze with both terror and excitement. It was no lie, that Imogen did not fear Laudna. No, the terror, the danger was all in the thrill. And each taste she got of Laudna’s bloodlust was more delicious than the last.
Every so often a crack would propagate just enough through Laudna’s psyche to allow her thoughts to bubble to the surface, ready for Imogen to consume in a hungry manner of her own, so to speak. For equal was her desire to consume parts of Laudna just as she wished to be consumed. These past weeks of dwindling supplies and hibernating fauna left Laudna vulnerable to emotional swings, and with that came daydreams of hot blood spilling from a torn throat, torn stomach, torn thigh.
No. Imogen wanted it, wanted Laudna, so she would never look away.
And so it was Laudna who broke the exchange first, Laudna who tried with desperation to find a new subject to sate her visual wanderings, Laudna who missed the almost imperceptible change in Imogen’s posture as she relaxed the muscles in her shoulders that had tensed up of their own accord.
The young sorcerer, aware of Laudna’s heightened senses, tried her best to release her shaky breath as quietly as possible but failed miserably if the slight twitch of Laudna’s head was anything to go by.
“I’ll… I’ll prepare them. I made sure they were clean kills- for the pelts I mean. Don’t want you getting cold.” Laudna patted her skirts down and rolled her sleeves before tying her hair back into a messy bun and securing it with a red ribbon. She made quick work of them, her spindly digits handling the rabbits with almost tender care despite the atrocities she was about to subject them to. After she had removed their heads she strung them up by the ankles from a branch using rope she’d procured from her pack, and with an elegant bone handle knife, she gently slit the skin around each heel, then from hock to anus. In two swift movements, she flayed the poor little bastards, dropping the sleeve-pulled hides into a bucket of melted snow that had been sitting at the periphery of the fire while she was out hunting.
It was a marvel, watching her work. Lean muscles moving under pale skin, keen eyes intent on her project, knife never slipping, never missing its mark. And oh, how knowledgeable those hands were, how strong and sure. It was truly astonishing how quickly and expertly Laudna managed to dismember their bodies. Imogen could fall apart herself simply by watching. Such precision and perfect pressure applied with blade to joint had them in pieces in no time, and Imogen found herself rushing to finish chopping the root vegetables she’d scavenged earlier that week in order to keep up. She huffed a strand of violet hair that had fallen in front of her eyes and startled with a jolt and gasp when a cold finger tucked it behind her ear.
Laudna snatched her hand back as if she’d burnt herself on a just-boiled kettle. “Oh goodness I’m so sorry-“
“No really, it’s fine-“
“I saw it was in the way-“
“It’s okay! It was annoyin’ me-“
“I just- here, allow me.” She took the chopping board from Imogen, careful to avoid any skin contact, and scraped the tubers into the simmering pot over the fire.
Imogen had to remind her lungs how to draw breath as she felt the blood rise in her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears. “No it’s fine, you just startled me is all. I forget how quiet y’are.”
Laudna chuckled softly, albeit a tad awkwardly, as she tossed chunks of rabbit into the stew. As if soothing a wounded animal, her voice was gentle when she next spoke, adding salt and herbs to the gently bubbling mixture all the while. “I didn’t want- I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She stayed crouched in front of the flames, mesmerised by the lick of fiery tongues against cast iron.
“Laudna.” Imogen reached out to touch her on the arm. This time it was Laudna’s turn to jump, but Imogen took her hand and held it fast. “I could never be afraid of you.”
Bloodshot eyes and black irises stared back at Imogen with an intensity that could melt steel. They scanned her features and drank in every inch of her face, neck, eyes, always lingering a fraction longer on the pulse of her carotid. It was with a focus like no other, the way Laudna beheld Imogen, unblinking and all furrowed brows, and she could feel heat spreading further across her skin as her heartbeat doubled under that hungry gaze. Laudna’s hand twitched in Imogen’s and sharp nails dug into the spidery purple scars that coloured her wrist, eliciting a quiet gasp from the younger woman.
“That…” Laudna’s voice dropped into a low register. “would be very foolish of you, darling.” Cold fingers pressed into the delicate skin above Imogen’s radial artery with a firmness that left her entire hand throbbing in tandem.
“You wouldn’t hurt me.” She knew Laudna could hear, could feel the strength of her pulse pumping; Imogen could barely hear the crackle of fire and bubble of stew over the steady, beating rush of blood in her ears. She took a deep breath.
“N…not unless I wanted you to.”
In a burst of sudden movement, Laudna ripped her hand away and flitted back over to the bucket of cooling skins. Her speed was unnatural, beyond primal and predatory. How quickly she would be able to close the distance between her mouth and Imogen’s throat if she so chose to. The thought made Imogen’s already racing heart beat even faster.
Laudna scooped a few more handfuls of snow into the bucket before pacing back to her pack and removing an assortment of items and placing them by the stump she had been using as a makeshift chair. Several times she had to return to her bag for additional things that must have slipped her mind the first time around. She was flustered. That much was obvious. How could you expect a starving vampire not to be when forced into close proximity with a body as warm and soft and alive and willing as Imogen’s.
Eventually, she halted her anxious movements around the camp and stood as still and pale as a marble statue with her fists clenched. A drop of crimson fell from her hand before she opened it and admired the rapidly closing wounds in her palm that were left in the wake of her talons.
“Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say.” Hungry eyes found Imogen’s again, and her face looked more gaunt and sallow than Imogen could remember seeing it before. Stark shadows cut each facet of her visage into sharp relief, accentuating her deadly beauty. Laudna swallowed nothing over and over, her jaw set and muscles twitching. “I don’t think you quite comprehend the implications of what you’re suggesting, my dear.”
Imogen’s mouth was dry. More parched than the leaves of parchment that rustled in Laudna’s diary each time she scrawled down notes of the terrors that visited Imogen in her dreams. So she wet her lips. She knew she was treading in dangerous and uncharted territory. But despite the trepidation that niggled at the corners of her mind, she couldn’t help but reach out towards Laudna with the tendrils of her desires. She wanted Laudna to want her the way she yearned for that undead woman. The way she begged the sun and the stars and the moons for Laudna to see , to truly understand Imogen’s dedication and love. To trust that everything was going to be okay and to know how desperately she wanted to sustain her with the nectar of her veins, a willing sacrifice. If only there was an infinite supply of Imogen, a limitless spring of her lifeblood, for she would gladly pour forth into Laudna’s mouth and limbs and heart for all time.
That and more she wanted to confess, but all she could manage was: “I know you want to keep me safe, Laud. I trust you.”
Laudna’s chest was still. She was deliberately holding her breath now, Imogen figured. Her fingers twitched. “Then you are a fool.”
Like a white-hot poker through the sternum, rejection shot through Imogen's heart and seared her from the inside. She opened and shut her mouth a few times in flustered embarrassment before finally blurting out. “Starve then. Fine by me.”