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The General's Crusnik	By : vbruce Category: +S to Z > Trinity Blood Views: 4086 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Trinity Blood. All rights, proceeds and monies go to the original creator. Making no cash from writing this. It's just for fun.

Chapter List
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Abel let a rueful smile cross his lips as he once more made his way up to the General's suite. He had to wonder what the desk clerk must think of the man who was receiving a second visit by the same priest in as many days. He stopped before the door, brushed his robes out a bit, and knocked.

Lucien opened the door and shook his head before grabbing Abel by the side of his collar and dragging him down the hallway and out into the night.

"Dear gods above and below, boy. We MUST find you something other than those rags to wear."

He managed a startled yelp before he managed to match his pace. "Even if I am on official Vatican business, sir?"

"Friend of one of the most powerful beings in the world first, Vatican lap dog second. Now come along."

He huffed. "What is it with people and my clothes all of a sudden," he grumbled. "First Cardinal Sforza - who has invited you for a private meeting - and now you."

The General turned and looked him over carefully, almost as though studying a piece of Michelangelo’s art. "You shouldn't hide your beauty behind a cross, Abel."

"It is the part I was expected to play, General," he sighed, shaking his head. "It's not as though priests often walk about this city outside of their robes."

"I doubt most heartily you took the vows a normal priest would, Abel."

He chuckled. "Very true." He glanced over at him. "Catarina knows that I will be leaving the Vatican when your visit ends."

"Excellent! A new wardrobe is in order then. It also saves me the trouble of having you kidnapped."

"What do you mean kidnapped?" He could only blink at the General.

"I wasn't aware that I was unclear in my statement, my boy."

"I wasn't aware that you had designs to kidnap me," he countered with a small grin.

"Not designs. Solid plans. I'll have to call them off if you're free now though," he said thoughtfully.

"When was I going to be aware of such things? When I woke up in Canada?" he drawled, trying to sound irritated but secretly pleased that someone wanted him enough to plan a kidnapping.

"And if that happened to be the case?"

"Then I hope you would have at least left a note for my superior here indicating where I had vanished to."

"I hardly think giving the Vatican ammunition concerning the taking of one of their supposed priests would have been wise,” Lucien chuckled. "Though I might have eventually sent Lucrezia to control her descendants."

"Catarina is doing just fine. It's *Francesco* that is going to cause a war before everything is said and done," he remarked, looking over at LaCroix.

"No. He isn't. I can assure you of that, Abel. Ah, here we are," he said, pushing the door to the very upscale tailor shop open and ushering Abel inside.

"Are you getting something as well, General?" he inquired, the picture of pure innocence. "Or are you going to stalk around Roma in your typical black attire?"

"Naturally," he said. He turned to the tailor who was waiting expectantly. "This young man needs new clothing."

"So that means you only brought black clothing with you," he sighed, shaking his head as he prepared himself to be poked and pinched for the sake of new clothes.

"Do you WANT me to spank you in front of others because you're being a brat?"

"I think that would depend on what happens afterwards."

"You go back to your lonely room, of course," the General said. He turned and started pulling bolts of cloth from the shelves. "I want this and this for him. Also, I want the blue silk on the top shelf."

"How much clothing will the young man be requiring, sir," the tailor asked.

"He'll need a full wardrobe. I expect it to be finished in three days."

"Three days, sir?! That isn't possible," the tailor spluttered.

"Make it possible. I don't care how you do it, just do it. You'll be well paid for your efforts."

He removed his robes, leaving him clad in his pants and boots. "It will be interesting to see what happens in three days," he mused, tugging the black ribbon out of his hair long enough to twist his hair up and out of the way before securing it with the ribbon. He tilted his head. "I'll have to find a few more hair ribbons since my wardrobe is being expanded."

"No you won't. You'll leave it down like it's supposed to be."

Abel tilted his head and looked over at the general. "That will take a bit of getting used to again."

"You'll have a long time to get reacquainted with it."

He looked at him, a bit of wonder in his eyes. "Truth?"

"When have I ever stated a falsehood to you?"

A faint pink dusted his cheeks before he ducked his head, chastised. "Never, sir."

"Then you have your answer, don't you," he said, wandering around and pulling more fabric. "Jeanette will be so pleased to have you home."

Those words got a strange warmth started in his chest and he slipped out of his pants and boots to stand on the platform for the tailor.

The General stood back, openly admiring the view over Abel's shoulder in the mirror.

"We'll have to get you new shoes as well," he said. "And some good riding boots."

"You have horses again?" He glanced at him in the mirror, knowing better than to twist when a tailor was hovering around him with needles.

Lucien nodded. "Horses and hunting dogs, of course. Natalie fusses about having them in the house though."

"She would. Always hated a mess." he shook his head. "I'm surprised she can deal with Nicolas in a painting fit as well as she does."

"True. They do suit one another though."

"Nicolas isn't driving you crazy anymore?" The question was asked as innocently as he could.

"He and Natalie live in one of the guest houses rather than the main one. Therefore, he has little opportunity to do so. At least he's given up that certain ridiculous idea Natalie put into his head all those years ago."

He shook his head. "I could never understand that idea. Especially with all the stories I was told about his police days."

Lucien smiled faintly. "It was certainly an odd idea all things considered. Though if you look at it from her point of view it rather makes sense."

That got a shrug of his shoulder. "I suppose it was the lure of children." He offered a wry smile to LaCroix. "Seth asked for my assistance in having a child of her own. I told her to talk to me when she didn't look thirteen anymore."

Lucien laughed. "I understand your reluctance, all things considered. Since her intended breeding partner is certifiably insane she would have naturally come to you eventually," he said, shaking his head. "I wonder if they ever considered you'd all have personalities. Gods know they would have never paired Seth with Cain if they had."

"Considering how I was, I'm surprised they gave me to Lilith," he countered, shaking his head at how ridiculous he had acted before. "And we're close, just not as close as we could be."

"We'll discuss the why of that in private," Lucien said, nodding to the tailor who was on his knees in front of Abel, still taking measurements.

He nodded. "Of course, sir." No sense in talking private politics when there were unfamiliar ears in the place. "Will there be something for me to wear out or will I be permitted to wear my robes again?"

"Find something suitable for him to wear if you have it," he said to the tailor before looking at Abel in the mirror again. "If I had my way . . . Ah, but that is for another time."

Abel tilted his head slightly. "If you had your way what, sir?"

Lucien slid up behind him on the tailor's block and said directly into his ear. "If I had my way, you'd be in a collar and that is all."

He stepped down and left Abel to ponder the statement.

"I'll be outside for a bite. I'll return shortly."

"Yes, sir." His voice was a bit breathy and his eyes were rather wide but there was definite interest in his gaze as he stared after the General.

Abel resisted the urge to squirm at the thought of kneeling at LaCroix' feet wearing nothing but his hair and a collar. Strangely, he wasn't bothered by the thought and he wondered how serious LaCroix had been about that comment.

Lucien smiled a little as he stalked down a dark alley way looking for a quick bite. He'd have to be very cautious since it was obvious Cardinal Medici had a good bit of power here. Gods, he would have never thought he'd be so happy to leave Roma. However, since he'd be taking Abel with him the thought had him rather more impatient than he would have been otherwise.

Abel let the tailor get him bundled up into a pair of pressed pants of a black cotton and a silk shirt of a pale blue that matched his eyes. The robes were bundled up in a bag where he added the glasses, not needing them at this time. He smiled at the tailor. "General LaCroix may seem to ask the impossible, but he will reward you for your time," he assured the man.

"I certainly hope so, sir," the tailor said before turning to get started on his task.

The General met Abel just as he was coming out the door.

"Well, that is certainly an improvement," he said, taking in Abel's appearance. "Come along. We need to go the tack and bridle shop."

Abel bid the tailor farewell and moved after LaCroix. He glanced at him. "Were you serious about that collar?"

"I understand your need to be owned, Abel," he said, chewing on the end of the fine cigar he'd just taken from the case in his pocket. "You need a much firmer hand than the lovely Cardinal can provide you with."

He reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "If you are serious about claiming me as your own, I will not object."

"Have you ever known me to not be serious concerning something of that nature?"

"Honestly, sir? I don't know because while you might have taught us other things, a relationship like that wasn't one of them."

"It's because you were still basically children. I taught Cain the use of a whip because I knew the two of you would come to that understanding. I also know why Lilith left for several months after that whole affair began."

"Why did she leave? That was one thing I never could understand." He shook his head. "It was a wonderful experience, and one that not even what Cain has become could tarnish."

Lucien turned and took Abel's chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing him to make eye contact. "She left because it upset her that your first orgasm came at the end of a whip lash and not at her touch."

"That's ridiculous," he stated, staring into those eyes that were almost the same shade as his own. "It shouldn't matter that much."

"Apparently it did matter to her. It probably didn't help that Cain brought it up every time they fought."

That got a roll of Abel's eyes. Trust Cain to find the one thing that would get to someone and use it to death.

Lucien sighed. "You do realize it's also one of the contributing factors to him killing her, correct?"

"I know he often thought of me as his property. I didn't mind it until he killed her." He shook his head. "I didn't know it was also a contributing factor in her death."

"Oh, I can assure you, it was. You were the main bone of contention between them because Cain considered you the first thing he had ever truly owned."

"And she was a threat because she was my breeding partner." His shoulders slumped at that thought. He hadn't realized that he had played such a large part in her death.

"Stop that this instant, boy," Lucien snapped. "That was Cain's issue. Even if you had been there to prevent him killing her that time he would have just found another place, time and reason."

He straightened in an instant at that tone. "Yes, sir!"

"Waiting for you is going to torture me endlessly. But I expect it will be worth the wait."

"I'll try to ensure you don't wait too long, sir."

"Everyone heals in their own time, Abel. I can be patient. I haven't sent Nicholas to the true death yet after all."

He looked at LaCroix. "I already told Catarina that Lilith was staying here when I left."

One of Lucien's eyebrows lifted. "Did you now?"

He nodded. "She had expressed an interest in me getting over Lilith as well."

"I like her more by the moment."

He offered a small smile. "She asked if I was happy here and I told her the truth. That is what started it."

"I see. Did she say when she wanted to meet with me?"

He shook his head before smiling. "She joked that she would have to keep you around a long time so I would stay."

"Indeed? This could be interesting," he said, turning a corner and walking up to the tack and bridle shop.

He walked into the shop and took a deep breath, the scent of leather filling his lungs and bringing with it a calming feeling. Leather always had that affect on him.

"Abel, come here."

He walked over to LaCroix and looked at him, curious to know why they were here.

Lucien suddenly put both hands around Abel's throat and then instantly released him. He walked toward the back of the shop to find the shopkeep.

Abel blinked at that before blushing a bit and following after him.

The shopkeeper looked up and nodded to him. "How may I help you, my lord?"

Lucien grinned around his cigar. "I need a collar. One this big," he said, holding out his hands to the exact size of Abel's throat.

The man pulled out his tape and measured the circumference. "Wish anything special on it sir? And how would you like it to fasten?" he inquired, jotting down the measurement on a piece of paper.

"Standard silver buckle is suitable. As for anything special on it . . ." he turned and looked at Abel for a long moment. "The beauty it's going on needs no other adornment."

Abel blushed again and ducked his head, unused to such treatment.

The man glanced at Abel before focusing on LaCroix. "Black, quarter inch leather suitable for you sir?" He fished out a bit of it that looked like it might have been part of a rein at one time but thinner.

"That suits. How soon can you have it to me?"

The man tilted his head. "If you give me ten minutes sir, I'll have it right away."

"Excellent. I'd wanted to look at the whips as well."

"OF course, sir. They're against the far wall," the man directed before getting his tools out and starting to work on the leather.

Lucien wandered over to the far wall to peruse the merchandise. He looked over everything for a few moments before turning to Abel. "Is there anything you prefer?"

Abel followed him over and looked at the braided leather, seriously. "I think a straight whip to a riding crop or a lunge whip," he confessed before shrugging a shoulder. "But then, that is the one I know the feel of."

"That's fine. I'll teach you the finer points of various instruments later," Lucien said, absently stroking a hand down Abel's hair.

He nodded. "Yes, sir." He glanced over at LaCroix. "Do you wish for me to return to my rooms when we are done or remain with you for the rest of your trip?"

"Much as it pains me, I believe it is in both our best interests for you to return to being the foppish friar."

That got another nod before he looked at him. "Soon, it won't matter. I'll be with you always."

"That you will."

He smiled and reached out to run his fingers along the leather, enjoying the feel of it.

"I think I'll wait to collar you until we're in my cabin on the ship."

"All right." Although he would have preferred to wear it under his robes, but he knew LaCroix would prefer him to show off the claim.

Lucien smiled. "You already know who owns you. The collar is simply a formality for the fools who fail to comprehend how I guard what's mine."

He nodded and let a small smile curl his lips. "Yes, but sometimes a reminder is nice."

"Oh, I'll remind you. Have no fear of that."

He blushed brighter and ducked his head again.

The man politely coughed to get their attention. "It's done, my lord."

Lucien walked over and examined the piece. "Excellent. I'll also take the smaller blue riding crop and the signal whip. Also, if you could manage to make a tawse for me, I would appreciate it."

"Of course, my lord. It will take longer for the tawse, but I can have it delivered to you, free of charge," he offered.

Abel drifted over with the items in question so they could be packaged up.

"That suits," Lucien said, scribbling down the address of his hotel. "How long for the Tawse?"

The man hummed. "Probably about half an hour to get it cut and loosened a bit," he confessed.

"Fine. Send it to me tomorrow night. I'll be out for the rest of this evening."

"Of course, my lord," the man agreed with a smile as he rung up the purchases and packaged them neatly.

Lucien paid the man and steered Abel outside again. "Well, my lovely, what shall we do now?"

"We could wander around a bit," he remarked, blushing as his stomach growled its own suggestion.

"Apparently I need to feed you sometime during that wandering."

"I actually grabbed something to eat before I left," he admitted. "Apparently it wasn't enough."

"Hn. I think you need more of your natural food than you've been getting."

"That's not easy to get," he confessed, shaking his head. "If I eat heavily, it's usually in the middle of a fight."

"Sweet gods, boy. Do you mean to tell me you've been starving," Lucien growled.

He glanced around, frustration on his face. "It's not as if I can just walk up to a Methuselah and ask if I can drink a few pints," he hissed, his voice soft. "Especially not in Roma."

Lucien sighed in exasperation before dragging Abel sideways down an alley. He unbuttoned the cuff on his sleeve and offered Abel his wrist.

"My blood is vastly more potent than a Methuselah's. A very little will suffice."

He let his fangs drop and he slipped them through LaCroix's skin, a faint moan caught in his throat at the taste of power and age in that blood.

Lucien smiled at the feeling of Abel's fangs buried in his wrist, drawing what he needed. He tried to keep the anger at Abel starving himself out of his mind because that would surely be echoed in his blood. No more harm would come to this one if he could help it. Since that was well within his capabilities, he didn't foresee a problem.

All too soon, he forced himself away from LaCroix's wrist. He leaned back against the wall and licked his fangs clean as he shivered, incredibly aroused from the power that had been in that blood.

Lucien chuckled, Abel seemed to be in the same state he was in at the moment. There was always something stunningly erotic about having someone drink from him. "Come along, my beauty. Let's get you fed in the more traditional way."

"Yes, sir." He managed to force his Crusnik nature back to appear human again, and he stood, his legs a bit wobbly as he followed after LaCroix.

***

Lucien sighed and watched Abel start his trek back to the Vatican. He drummed his fingers on the windowsill for a moment, trying to tamp down the impatience in him to be gone from here. But his king wanted contact with this city again and he would not jeopardize it for the sake of anyone, not even Abel. Things hung in a delicate balance and while he would have been perfectly happy to simply abduct his beauty and leave that was not how it was to be. There was also the added fact that the younger man needed time to adjust to the thought of being owned again. Thank the gods he knew how to do it properly but it would still take a bit to judge Abel’s mental state. The last person who’d owned him outright hadn’t been terribly stable himself.

He sighed and went to his coat. He dug the small communications device out of his pocket and tapped in a few select codes to get private access to one of the forgotten satellites.

“Open frequencies: General Lucien LaCroix.”

The device beeped a few times before answering in a mechanical voice. “General Lucien LaCroix. Confirmed access. Passcode?”

“Passcode: Vesuvius Project.”

“Acknowledged. Opening communications port.” A few seconds passed before the voice said, “Communications port opened.”

“Contact Seth.”

“Opening hailing frequencies for the Empire. Contact established, Methuselah Empress.” Seth’s perpetually youthful face appeared on the small screen.

“General! So good to hear from you. Finally,” she said, giving him the look.

“Forgive me, Empress,” Lucien said with a laugh. “His Majesty has kept me busy since the fall of everything.”

Seth snorted inelegantly. “If you say so. How are you? Where are you?”

“I’m as well as I ever am. As for where I am, I’m in Roma.”

Seth’s eyebrows went up. “Oh? Have you seen Abel?”

“Actually, he’s the reason I contacted you.”

“Finally put a claim on him, have you?”

Lucien’s lips twitched a little. “As you say. You don’t sound surprised.”

“Gods above and below, I’ve been waiting for it for centuries,” Seth laughed.

“I have your blessings then?” he asked, lips curling up in a smile.

“On one condition and one only.”

“Which is?” he prompted.

“Take better care of him than he has himself the last few centuries.”

“On my honor as a General, dear Empress.”

“Good.”

“I also needed to ask you if there was anyone who would have an issue with me claiming him.”

“You mean aside from Cain? Only one that I can think of here.”

“Whom might that be?”

“The Duchess of Kiev.”

“Why would that be?” Lucien asked, eyes narrowing dangerously. Reputation of the Duchess being hot tempered had reached his ears even in far away Canada. He wondered at her connection to Abel.

Seth correctly read his expression. “She considers him her tovarish and will go to great lengths to protect him.”

“The only one he needs protection from is himself. Did you know he was starving himself here?”

“He what?! Bring him here when you leave Rome. I’ll beat him myself,” Seth grumbled. “I’ll contact Michelangelo and clear the path for you on this end.”

Lucien chuckled. “As you command, Empress.”
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The General's Crusnik