Night Tide
 

The Normandy Coast 1228


The night surf washed around the bare feet of the solitary figure on the beach. Slowly the 
foamy water rose to cover the pale toes and ankles, then it retreated and left the toes fighting 
for purchase on the wet sand as it took the ground from beneath them with it.
Pushing his toes deeper into the cool wet sand, the man who was standing alone on the dark 
beach, sighed and raised his face to the full moon, as if the silver orb would provide him with 
an answer to his question.
But of course the moon remained as cold and detached as always.
Nicholas turned to look up to the dark castle where his master and his sister were enjoying a 
game of chess.
His master, Lucien Lacroix. 

Over the last couple of months since Lacroix had brought him across, he had been a patient 
but strict teacher and he had never forced himself upon Nicholas. 
But his gaze, the way his eyes caressed him every time they were alone in the room, and his 
touch told Nicholas that there was something more. Some unspoken bargain that had been 
made when the ancient vampire had brought the young crusader across to the dark side. 

His thoughts strayed back to the fateful night five months earlier in Paris. The feel of the 
strong arms embracing him, the lips closing over his neck, the pain as the fangs pierced his 
flesh, the incredible feeling of belonging and possession as he greedily drank from his 
master's slashed wrist. There had been something in the blood he wasn't able to understand 
then. Something dark, hidden, something that he wasn't supposed to see there. But he had read
it in Lacroix's blood. And ever so slowly he began to understand what that feeling had been. 
Desire.
Not the desire of the vampire for a willing victim nor the desire for a son, a companion, but 
the desire for the beautiful body, for the soul of the knight.

Nicholas squeezed his eyes shut. 
It couldn't be. It was impossible. This was against everything he had ever learned, had ever 
been taught by the Holy Church. This was sin, deadly sin. This was unnatural and animalistic. 
He could recite Père Jacques' lectures on purity and chastity by heart.

But he couldn't deny what he felt.
He too felt desire for the cool touch of his master's fingers on his skin, the sensual lips on his 
neck, and he wanted to taste his master's powerful blood again, feel that dark wave wash over 
him and drown in the sensation.

He had begun to evade Lacroix. Hunting alone or with Janette, going out when Lacroix and 
Janette wanted to spend the evening at the castle and, with increasing frequency, coming down 
to the beach to try and rid himself of this desire. He had failed. 
His desire for his master had not vanished, no, it had grown stronger with every night that he 
spend alone on the shore until the approaching dawn forced him inside where he locked 
himself into his room or where he exerted himself in pleasing Janette to prove to himself that 
he was a 'man'.

Nicholas sighed. 
He turned and slowly started to walk back up to the castle. He was cutting it closer every day. 
He could feel the sun just below the horizon, the deadly rays of light just out of reach. A 
couple of nights back he had singed his skin because he had tried to watch the sunrise. 
Everything but having to return to their quarters where his master was waiting for him to 
make a decision.
Of course Lacroix was aware of what was going on. He never made a move nor did he make 
suggestive remarks. He just looked at him knowingly and patiently.

***

Nicholas pushed the heavy oak door open and slid inside just as a ray of golden light pierced 
the sky. He managed to shut it without too much noise. The room was dark. The fire in the 
enormous fireplace was burned down to a few orange glowing embers and the candles had 
been extinguished. Both Janette and Lacroix had gone to sleep. He had escaped his fate once 
again.

With a small self-satisfied grin he entered his bedroom. He moved over to his bedside table 
and lit the beeswax candle. Just as the wick caught fire the door was slammed shut and the 
key was turned in the lock.
Nicholas swirled around and saw Lacroix standing at the door, his massive figure blocking 
every possible way of escape. Nicholas backed against the wall, trembling.

Lacroix raised his hand in a soothing gesture, never moving from where he stood.
"Don't be afraid, Nicholas. I have not come to hurt you nor to force you to anything, but I 
think it is time we talked. Don't you agree?
Nicholas swallowed hard and nodded.

Lacroix pointed to the heavy chairs that stood in front of the fireplace and motioned to 
Nicholas to sit down. Then he busied himself to keep the fire going. After a couple of minutes 
the wood was crackling steadily and the hearty scent of burning resin filled the room. Lacroix 
went to a little table and brought two goblets of bloodwine. He had obviously prepared this.

For a long moment Lacroix stared into the fire, seemingly lost in thought and the appreciation 
of his beverage. But then he turned his head and his icy-blue gaze bore into Nicholas' eyes.
"Lacroix, I…," Nicholas began, his throat dry. But Lacroix raised his finger to stop him.
"You don't have to explain, Nicholas. I sense your feelings, I know of your dilemma. It is a 
common one, let me assure you. You aren't the first nor will you be the last to face it."

"But how can one live with those unnatural desires, Lacroix?"
Lacroix forced himself not to laugh out loud. This was not the time to ridicule his son. For 
Nicholas it was indeed an unnatural desire. So he tried to remain patient.

"Listen, Nicholas, when I was young, it was considered to be perfectly normal to find pleasure 
in the arms of another man. It was considered a 'sin', if one can call it that, to deny one's 
desires, it was deemed unhealthy. Do you think all the great men of the past now burn in 'hell' 
because they indulged themselves a bit?"

"But we were told that it is an unnatural act to desire another man, let alone engage in carnal 
pursuit of one."

"Well, the Church also told you that it was a good cause to fight for your faith in the Holy 
Land. Do you still believe that, Nicholas?"

Nicholas remained silent for a moment. He had witnessed incredible horrors in the Crusades 
and most of those had not been committed by 'infernal' heathens but by his fellow Christian 
Crusaders.
"No," he finally muttered below his breath.

Lacroix got up and stepped up behind his son. He placed his hand on Nicholas' shoulder and 
squeezed it once in what he hoped would be considered a reassuring gesture.
"I will not force you into my bed against your will, Nicholas. If you want to come, come. If 
not, it'll be just as well. It is your decision alone."

He quickly unlocked the door and retreated to his own room. Nicholas was left sitting in front 
of the fire.

***

Lacroix breathed deeply after he had closed the door to Nicholas' room. He desired him so 
much and it was taking an iron will not to take him by force as he had done with so many 
others before. But not this one. He wanted Nicholas to come freely, to surrender to the desire 
in his heart.

He slowly started to loosen the lacings on his doublet when he heard a tentative knock at the 
door. The nervousness coming across the link told him that it was Nicholas.
He didn't turn, but kept on undoing his clothing. But in a steady voice that sounded more gruff 
than he had originally intended, he said," Come in."

Nicholas stepped into the room, his shirt undone and his eyes wild. "I don't know why I'm 
doing this, Lacroix."
Lacroix stepped up to him and took his hand. "Yes, you do, Nicholas." His voice was low, 
seductive, dark velvet enveloping him. Lacroix guided his hand to his lips and started to kiss 
every single finger, drawing them into his mouth and swirling his tongue around them.

Nicholas gasped. Hot flashes coursed down his back and straight to his groin. He moaned. 
The little smile on his sire's face made him feel ashamed but he didn't want this to stop. So he 
closed his eyes and tried to shut out the little voice in the back of his head that kept repeating 
'this is sin'.  But how could it be? How could this be wrong if it felt so good?

Lacroix stopped his ministrations on Nicholas' fingers. "Nicholas, open your eyes and look at 
me. I want you to see what I can do to you." Or what you can do to me, he added silently.
He took his son's face between his hands and slowly  ran his fingers through the thick golden 
hair. "Just let it happen, Nicholas. Don't think, just feel."
He again took his hand and led him over to the bed. Slowly, careful not to make a clumsy 
move, he pushed the shirt over Nick's shoulders. His son looked stunning in the soft light of 
the candles. His long hair shone like dark gold and matched the colour of his eyes. His ivory 
skin, a darker shade than his own but still perfect and only slightly dusted with soft golden 
hair, glowed. He trailed his fingers down the slender column of Nicholas' neck. He had 
captured him in the height of his physical beauty. A warrior, body hard and well muscled but 
slightly softer than he himself was. He understood why Janette had been smitten with him 
right from the very start.
He had watched them making love that night. He had to be there to calm Janette through their 
bond so she wouldn't drain Nicholas at the height of passion. And as soon as he had seen him, 
he had known that he wanted him too.

It was Nicholas' voice that roused him from his reverie. 
"I don't know how, Lacroix." He put his finger across Nicholas' lips. "Don't worry. You will 
know, believe me, and I'm here to show you."

With that he slowly pulled Nicholas' mouth to his. He licked his way across those sensual lips 
and it didn't take anymore encouragement for Nicholas to open his mouth. Lacroix slid his 
tongue inside and teased Nicholas' eye-teeth until his son squirmed in his embrace. 
A low laugh came from Lacroix as he felt the eager body of his son press to his. 
He took his time and showed Nicholas what it meant to surrender, to give oneself up to desire.

Nicholas had long since given up on rational thought. He was just passion, burning for the 
caresses of his master, of the splendid demon who played him like a finely tuned instrument.
Not even Janette could generate these feelings in him, this need to give himself completely.

His fingers kneaded Lacroix's shoulders as the other leaned over him to shower his neck and 
his chest with kisses and little bites. Small drops of blood mingled with the sweat on his skin 
and the elder licked the enticing mixture off his chest.
This was unbelievable. He felt totally alive, every fibre of his body was thrumming with 
excitement. He needed release soon.

Lacroix looked deep into Nicholas' eyes which were rapidly turning crimson. Raspy breath 
came through gleaming fangs. Lacroix drew back, a little astonished how much passion lay 
there that waited to be unleashed.
He bent down again to give his son the release he so needed. A slight lick over Nicholas' 
beautiful cock and the other bucked his hips upward for more. How could anyone resist such 
an invitation. He took him into his mouth completely, no longer teasing but working the rigid 
flesh in a rhythm that came as naturally as breathing.

"Oh my… God!!" Nicholas screamed as he felt his climax wash over him and when he was 
offered his master's wrist he tore savagely into it. Lacroix smiled at the exquisite pain his 
son's bite was causing him. It was worth it. It was worth a thousand times more.

As soon as Nicholas had relaxed a bit, he became aware of his master leaning over him, 
watching him intently. And then it hit him. Of course, Lacroix hadn't yet….
Now he wanted …
Nicholas swallowed at the thought of what was about to happen but he would not pull away 
now. Lacroix's hand was on him again, stroking tenderly while his other reached for a little 
vial he kept under the bed. It was filled with fragrant oil. He poured a little on Nicholas' belly 
and watched it flow down into the coarse pubic hair and down over Nicholas' inner thighs. 
Gently he began to massage it into the soft skin and Nicholas relaxed again. 

His eyes locked with his son's, Lacroix wrapped Nicholas' legs around his waist and poured 
more oil on his fingers. Slowly he spread it on his own cock and then poured it into the cleft 
between Nicholas' buttocks. Slowly his fingers worked themselves into the tight sheath of his 
son's most intimate muscles. Nicholas shivered but he knew it wasn't pain. It was a mixture of 
excitement and fear. Nicholas had taken many women, but he had never been taken before.
When he thought him ready, Lacroix pushed himself in very slowly, never breaking eye 
contact. He began to thrust in slow, languid strokes. Nicholas threw his head back as the sheer 
ecstasy of it became almost unbearable.

How could anyone deem this a demeaning act? This was so much more, a union as he had 
never felt before. He began to respond to Lacroix's thrusts and soon he matched the rhythm. 
His head was guided to his sire's neck and when the elder bit down he followed suit.  
Time stopped as they came simultaneously, shivering in each other's embrace. 
When they finally let go of each other, Nicholas was totally exhausted. Lacroix watched him 
drift off into sleep.

He lay awake for a long time after Nicholas had curled up into his embrace and listened to the 
tide crash against the rocks down on the beach.
He brushed a stray curl from Nicholas's face as he watched his sleeping son. And he 
wondered what the future would bring for them.

-Fin-