Heilen [Louvel]

[Alaric von der Marck]

Although the elder left the house every now and again, it was only a nightly occurrence in that he went into the wilderness surrounding the estate to find himself a meal. Once he was home again, Alaric generally retired to the library. And when he got restless -- which did happen every now and again -- he ventured toward the city. Never very far; he kept mostly to the outskirts, near enough to quiet and solitude so that he could escape if it was required.

Accustomed to spending his nights in solitude, Alaric did not often seek the company of others. By no means was he a recluse; if family members happened to be within the manor, if he happened to cross their paths or they sought his company, he would happily spend time with them. Without them, he would not have learned a thing about this century.

More often than not, he watched from a distance. Judah had moved back into the city and so was not at the estate as much as he used to be, and Alaric had a vague idea why. He had not been told the whole story, and he was not sure he wanted to know. As much as he did not think it was his place to stick his nose in their business, he often asked himself if perhaps he should. If Gregor had said that the family was broken, it was more broken now than it had been before. Alaric had been asked to fix it. He should at least try.

He was sitting in the same place he had been when he’d asked Judah to come and see him. The library was cosy. It was a no-technology zone. Alaric had asked it to be stripped of all modern contraptions, the only light coming from the fire crackling in the fireplace. Tonight, Louvel was on the estate somewhere; Alaric reached out, telepathic fingers locking on to their target.

Louvel. Will you come to see me in the library?

He used English. If he did not practice it every night, he would lose his grip on the language.

[Louvel von der Marck]

A loud repetitive clanking could be heard as far as the vampiric ear could pick up. The rise of a well used hammer lifted for the fifth time then came down heavy striking the fire hot ball of glowing and blooming steel. The pick up tongs nearby appeared to have jumped on their own accord due to the force of the flattening blow. Louvel refused to be distracted while the job was incomplete. The sword had been a project and now the heat was on to finish it. Beads of sweat rolled down the bridge of his nose, sliding down the slope and drop of his upper lip. Despite the increasing heat from the forge the actions of the one who possessed a will to finish what he started did not lessen to any degree.

A final strike coupled with the quick twist of his wrist had the perfect shape of what he was intending in the blade. As he set down the tools for cooling he was reminded that he was never really alone. Perhaps everyone experienced it a little differently but for Louvel von der Marck there was the sound of his patriarch’s voice when the telepathic messages wormed their way into his head. That was enough to have him stepping back from the forge and his business at hand. His hands clapped together sending small droplets of sweat into the air as they crashed palm to palm. Alaric's use of English had become far more frequent and increasingly expanded. Just when he was comfortable in reverting back to his family’s conversational German out of respect to their head of bloodline the tables were turning with the times.

A stop off for a quick rinse under the shower left him clean and ready for whatever it was Alaric had in mind. The keeper moved through the cottage bare to the world around him in the four walls which meant he was alone. Then again it had been often empty if he was not standing in it himself. With a well coordinated hop both feet managed jumping into a pair of khaki cargo pants. Boots found their place snug around his feet and a distressed v-neck white t-shirt went over his head that left most of his arms open to view thanks to the short sleeve style. A slow roll and stretch back had the thin cotton clinging in the right places for a comfortable fit.

Once he arrived to the manor he found his way through the interior and around the corners and down the halls that would have him arriving to the library. He paused in the doorway and searched the space with his mossy orbs. Inhaling with a slow deep draw pulled in the rich scents of old parchment, aged leather bindings and the unmistakable aroma of wisdom and time that he could never hold a candle to. Alaric was within the walls waiting for him to arrive. Who was he to keep the the von der Marck elder waiting? A few steps in and he announced his arrival.

“I came as soon as I could.” He slid his hand up and through his damp hair while moving closer.

[Alaric von der Marck]

The elder was unaccustomed to being indecisive and yet here he was – from one second to the next rethinking everything, wondering what he would tell the young man once he eventually arrived. Only that he wanted to see a friendly face? No, he told himself. No, he would stand his ground and he would do as he thought best. The trajectory was still the same – the offer that had been made to Judah would also be made to Louvel, though there were conditions attached. There would always be conditions. In the end, it might come to pass that none of them wanted it. They were all level-headed human beings who had lives of their own, people they loved and were attached to. To give it all up for immortality was a lot to ask. There would be future generations, and a hope that Alaric would not constantly live to watch them all die; there was a hope that he would not always feel so alone even when surrounded by company.

There was a book open in Alaric’s lap when Louvel eventually arrived. A book written in English, the elder now going through all the other titles in the library that were not in German. Reading English further aided his comprehension, his speedy grasp of the language a testament to his willpower and his strength of mind. He gestured to the seat opposite him as he put the bookmark back in place, closed the book, and put it aside.

”Lou,” he greeted affectionately, a small smile on his lips. This would be a serious discussion, but it was nothing bad. The smile was offered to waylay any concerns the younger man might have, if any.

”Your swords… they are progressing, I hope?” he asked, accent thick as his tongue wrangled with the foreign words. But the meaning was clear. It was not just an attempt at small talk. It was not procrastination. The elder was genuinely interested, and it was obvious from where Louvel had just come. Despite the shower, Alaric could still catch the whiff of hot metal and sweat.

[Louvel von der Marck]

A brief glance at his hands discovered more blister than callus as he sank into the chair that was offered to him. The firm pluck at the skin brought forth the clear fluid beneath the surface. He slowly rubbed his hands together to keep the moisture that was left behind back into his palms. While he did this he leaned back just enough to find the comfort of the back of the chair there to support him as he expected it to be. Refraining from putting his hands on the arms of the chair he instead balanced an elbow on each narrow hard strip of wood and allowed his hands to drop to the front of him so that each could rest at a hip.

As soon as his patriarch spoke his name he gave a single nod of his head in acknowledgement. Eyes rich with the color of spring forest moss fixed on the elder von der Marck sparkling with curiosity as to what was on the vampire’s mind. Soon he had a hint in the form of a question. Though the Keeper was doubting it was only about swords. He couldn’t pin it down completely to one particular thing but something had him prepared to discuss just about anything beyond his time spent forging.

“I am finding I am improving in a rather short amount of time.”

He paused his words taking in the way Alaric looked so solid, confident and comfortable in his pallid skin. If there were no centuries between them they would not be that far from one another in age. Alaric had the wisdom of centuries past and coming back from the dead. Overall in appearance outside being pale he looked fit enough to put more than Louvel in check if needed. Just sitting there Louvel was still somewhat in awe. It was impossible not to be. A deep inhale of air had his abdomen tight and inspired his chest to rise. As the seconds of silence passed between them his focus never wavered from the one who called him to the library.

“And how are you?”

His fingers stretch so each hand could meet the others fingertips. He was as comfortable as Alaric appeared to be. He had only the truth to offer of anything he would be asked. It was his flaw. If being dishonest was what it would take to save his soul then he was essentially a dead man walking...or in this case sitting.

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric considered the man in front of him in healthy silence, having no doubt that Louvel threw all that he had into the art he had taken up. Any parts that Alaric himself retrieved in his nightly meanderings were palmed off to the younger von der Marck – a man who could hold his own, as Alaric had seen on many occasions. The weapons were made, and to what end? Defence, of course. The family was small and scattered but one day, Alaric hoped that they would be large enough, with strength enough to defend their own walls, should it come down to it. It was a slow process.

”I am well,” he said with a small smile and a spread of his hands. Calm and enigmatic in this room that was his kingdom, he rested his hands upon the arms of his old leather chair. The pleasantries had passed, and silence spread around them for a full five seconds more before Alaric continued.

”I have spoken to Judah, as I plan to speak to you all,” he said, slowly. ”It is an offer that I do not think you are all yet ready to take, if it is one you wish to take. I will speak of it. You will be aware of my intentions,” he said, still slowly. The foreign words were still liable to be jumbled and so he took his time with them, feeling no rush to say what he needed to say. He’d had numerous conversations with many of the family members, so many that it was hard to remember what he’d said to who. He was certain that he had told Louvel what his plan had once been, however.

”Do you remember the story I told you, about your ancestors and the roles you now possess? Before the disaster, there were plans. There were sacrifices they were willing to make…” he said. He waited, to make sure the words were heard. Waited, in case he had not told Louvel the story yet – or the full story, anyway.

[Louvel von der Marck]

“Indeed I do.”

At the time he had been told of it the details were not elaborated on because it was still early in his return. The fact that the topic was again surfacing and this time privately between the two of them left the Keeper completely focused on what was being asked. It was of interest to him and for good reason. The history behind it for the longest time had been lost, questioned. These answers that the family patriarch held had ultimately been brought forth with great sacrifice. His thoughts did not stray from the history now raised with obvious purpose. He had so much to learn and there was only one who could teach it as it was intended to be in the von der Marck line. The mention of members willing to do what was asked of them had his eyes pinned on Alaric as the silence grew between them. Each second that was left without the sound of either of their voices had an impact.

Was he to stay silent or break it? The dilemma was likely to be short lived due to the serious nature of what his elder was proposing for discussion. It mattered little as to who was approached before him or the reasons why. He figured at some point this would come up and now it did. Alaric von der Marck was once upon a time a man with considerable determination. There was no ease in existing in the time that he had. Family records attested to such. The vampire that came to be from the tragic events of centuries past would not be visible and tangible proof before him if giving up was considered an option.

A man lost his sons, his basic freedom to be, his livelihood all while he watched his world forcibly peeled apart by merciless circumstances and the cruel hands of time and fate. Of course there was increased incentive in the family head across from him to resume what he had barely started before he was interrupted by events he had no power over. The thirsts that Alaric had, the hunger and need to finish what he started would not simply be shelved just because a couple hundred or so years had passed. Anyone expecting him to have a change of heart or mind because some were finally okay with vampiric presence quite simply were fools. The world was still full of the same warm blooded numbers ready to raise torches and jointly eradicate those missing a pulse or an expiration date. Nothing had dramatically changed in that regard.

“Please share it with me again?” He shifted in his seating just enough that he was ready for a length of time in the position if required. “As much as you feel comfortable with or is relevant.”

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric was nothing if not a thorough man, wanting to make sure every piece of a puzzle aligned before walking over the top of it. Every structure had to be checked and re-checked, now more than ever. Alaric had grown warier in this second chance he had been given. He would take no short cuts. Thus, he agreed with Louvel – even if he had told the story before, he should tell it again. This time, he could tell it in the proper context, in a way that framed the offer he was going to give to Louvel, and to the others. An offer that was hinged on conditions, which would soon be elaborated.

”Seventeen Ninety-Four was the year that I died. Of course, it was not something that I planned. I was aware of the uprising of the hunters, but I did not think that they would prevail. Regardless, I had made plans. Before that, it was a plan for the family to thrive – I would not be the only vampire to protect it,” he started, speaking slowly, making sure that the words he spoke were said in order, and that the crux of the story, thus far, were being absorbed by his descendent.

”There were four members of the von der Marck family that I trusted, they were the closest to me, within my inner circle. These four were your direct ancestors – yours, Judah’s, and Gregor’s. Judah has tracked the fourth descendent, but she has not yet made her way back to us,” he said, as if they would all eventually come home – as if Harper Rock would eventually be swarmed by von der Marcks, sections of the family set up in all corners of the city.

”They were given the titles – Keeper, Aegis, Chalice, and Chronicler. They were not titles to be passed down – they were created to be kept. Those who kept them were being prepared to be turned, to become vampires. The plan, it was to create a pyramid of power. If I am the patriarch, I cannot be the only leader. Power was to be distributed. Before the plan could be completed, I was killed, betrayed,” he said. That, though, was a story for another day – though there was not much of a story. It was black and white, and hunters could not be trusted. Even family could not fully be trusted.

”It is a plan that I would, eventually, like to complete…”

[Louvel von der Marck]

Louvel didn’t have any real apprehension about it as he listened to the expectations of the family titles. He wasn’t feeling any pressure by what he was hearing. Perhaps some would. Those who had not yet viewed the clouds beneath their boots wrapping around Everest like a heavenly crown. Or those who had heirs of their own much like Alaric was forced to deal with losing by no choice of his own. Maybe even those who had not yet found satisfaction in their lives because they had only seen that it wasn’t as possibly good as it could get.

Louvel von der Marck was already there and beyond. His life had been more than most could ever hope for. Up until the moment he sat down across from Alaric in the manor library he had been able to enjoy it on his terms, doing virtually anything he felt inspired to do. Mara gave him those gifts by raising him in the ways she had. She never wasted an opportunity when it came to instilling in him the sense of honor in being who he was, making sure he fulfilled the expectations of what was expected of him. Much of it was what most take for granted or overlook until it is too late.

Family. Otto could have dropped off the face of the earth long before he did and quite frankly would have never been missed. Obviously the one Alaric originally had in mind to hold the title was higher up on the totem pole of von der Marck Keeper’s. High enough and far more deserving than the one that he couldn’t deny was half the reason he was even sitting in the manor. That much Louvel would extend his father credit for being a part of.

“I shall be ready when the time comes.” Obviously out of the gene pool that Mara and Otto shared first pick wouldn’t be self absorbed Heath. He couldn’t pull his head out of his *** for anything but a love of self. Premature death interrupted Otto stepping up so that left Louvel to fulfill what had been pretty much his role anyhow since Mara groomed him for it by her own example. “If you feel I would be the one to permanently hold the title of Keeper.” It was safe to say that Lou wasn’t exactly looking to shift his sleeping schedule from nights to days anytime soon but he stood by his words. Eyes curiously set on Alaric. “We aren’t talking about anything needing to happen before the end of the night, right?” His fingers stroked the stubble on his jaw that he discovers he neglected to remove in his rush to get to the manor. “Is it fair to ask what to expect when it does happen? The good, the bad and the ugly. Helps to know what I am in for.”

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric leaned forward in the chair, his elbows upon his knees and his fingers steepled in front of him. Louvel showed promise – he always had. More then promise, Louvel was exactly the kind of person Alaric could see holding the responsibility Alaric was offering. He could see the same in Judah, and in Leonie, even though Leonie held no title. Their Chalice was missing, however, and Leonie was due something. Alaric could see that she did not believe in herself as much as she ought to, could hear it in the conversations they had. If she was given the responsibility that Alaric knew she could handle, perhaps she would begin to have faith in her own capabilities.

Alaric laughed and shook his head, the laughter soon dwindling so that Louvel would not think that the elder was laughing at him. ”Not before tonight, no. Not before the end of the month,” he said, shaking his head. Alaric could not tell them what to do, he could only try to nudge them in the right direction and hope that they reached the required goal.

”What I am saying, it is not that this is something you have to do. It is something you will choose, if you will want it. I will not force this life upon any one who does not know what it is, or who is not ready,” he said, a sigh flaring his nostrils while his heavy gaze might seem like it was picking Louvel apart, piece by piece.

”I have no doubt in your ability as a Keeper. I am proud of what you are, of how hard it is you work. But to become immortal, to keep this role for eternity, it is not solely about the role, but about family. It was not a plan I had to keep myself company, it was strategic. The family is a pyramid,” he said, holding his hands up to make the shape of a pyramid, before pointing to where the tip was, hanging in mid air. ”I am at the top, and those with the chosen titles would be spread out beneath me. And yet they are not only the tip, but the foundation. It must be a strong foundation, the bonds between those positions stronger than anything, Ja? I see much, Louvel. And the bonds between those in power in this familie, they are frayed. They are not ready,” he said.

Yes, he would tell Louvel what he could expect as a vampire, what he would be getting himself into should he eventually decide it was what he wanted. But this, this was more important. It did not matter if Louvel decided he wanted immortality, Alaric would not give it until he was certain.

[Louvel von der Marck]

Louvel agreed that some were not ready. Even as comfortable as he was with the fate of his future as he saw it there was the realization that he still had things to do before the time came. Maybe he was expected to ask what gave Alaric the impression there was a frayed family about him. But he didn’t. He didn’t have to. He had his own ideas. Instead he nodded slowly while he went over it all in his head. The family was frayed and of course he had his hands in it just as much as anyone else. Despite all of it as far as he could tell it was by no means weak. Even in the frayed condition it was currently in it held promise. It had what was needed when it came down to it to bring back the patriarch himself. That certainly said a lot. Judah and Gregor made that happen..everyone in that room did. von der Marck blood had power. He was far more aware of it in the last year than he had ever been the whole time growing up despite Mara’s constant teaching and grooming for what would eventually come.

Their family always had some sort of conflict here and there. He was raised seeing it and hearing of it. In that case, despite the wealth and impeccable records of the vast family, it was no different than any other. Sometimes a few had differing opinions, more than that had words and some even took it to the land or water with their fists and weapons in hand. Centuries may have blown by like the wind but some things never changed. With passion, blood and honor there were bound to be a few bumps in the road leading the members away from and back to their shared, rightful home.

Louvel’s eyes drifted slowly to what surrounded them and found it just as much a part of him. All of it was rightfully his to claim. Just as it was for the one across from him and those elsewhere in other rooms or in different countries sharing their blood. One never questioned if they were a von der Marck. They knew it even if everything else about their self-awareness was compromised. That alone was what had them withstanding the centuries of outsiders efforts that would try their damndest to keep it buried deep in the ground. That was enough in itself to have him prepared to be the Keeper on a totally different level than he had ever been before. First sight of Alaric and the fall of Gregor put it all into a clear perspective. Frayed or not the message was loud and clear. Yes, it was time to repair and strengthen those bonds. All would be the very fabric of what their patriarch would rely on to move forward with what had been set back by centuries of his confinement. No one would expect it to be pleasant. Louvel certainly didn’t.

“I have some work to do then.” He found the elder with his own eyes and fixed them on the face that had overcome far more than a bruised ego, broken heart and temporary loss of the best friend he wasn’t giving up on. Part of the work he had to do was to do some serious soul searching and pull his head out of his own ***. “I give you my word that I will begin now.” It was simply put but Louvel von der Marck was a simple kind of man. One who could and would be kept to his word.