#matthaeus only does out of pity

[monaluisa]

i am once again thinking about the stromberger gospel for like. the two of you who know what that is.

[adowbaldwin]

Oasis

requested by @madwriterscorner  :) The title made me giggle, so i hope the reference is not missed on anyone!!!

Ps. i kind of suck at time frames, so it’s ‘roughly’ ahahaha

510…ish…

Lucius and Hugh sat tall and proud atop their stallion’s, and the small thing blocking their road had to crane his neck to reach their full heights. He thought them to be out of this world, Gods he could not quiet reach.

“Boy move before you are trampled” the dark haired one barked, he knew him to be Sieur only and could not find the words for his response. He was almost starstruck

“Are you deaf” the other copper one growled, slightly huffing "or stupid”. He eyed the thing with disgust ridden on his face, and encouraged his horse to step closer to the boy with a small kick “Perhaps you wish to be trampled on” he growled

“LUCIUS!” Hugh berated his temperamental brother “do not dare, you are not in Rome any longer” his voice had shot out half as a command, and half in jest.

Lucius smirked over his shoulder “You are right brother, if we were in Rome he would have no head” the boy skated back on his heels, hoping to avoid certain death

“I was here first” his brows furrowed as he looked down kicking a stone out of the path

Lucius had been circling the boy on his horse as if to torment him, though this comment stopped him in his tracks and he shot down from his horse grabbing the child by the shoulders “what did you say” his jaw was clenched, teeth rattling under the pressure and he knelt down to the boys level

“i-“ he stuttered, then regained his composure looking him square in the face “I was here first. You interrupted my path. I was getting wood an-“

His story had been cut off when he felt leather connect to his rear, and he yelped in shock “you best learn manners boy or ill beat them into you” Lucius rose from his couched position, and when the boy looked up he fell back onto his now saw bottom

“Lucius, stop toying with the child and get a move on” Hugh knew better then to interrupt his little brother when he had prey in his sights and wished that he would just hurry up and either kill it or leave it. He wanted to drink the day away, not spend it in the forest.

“what is your name boy” the last word came out as almost a threat, though it was not usually formed in that way

The boys self-preservation had been launched out of the window some years ago and he did not take kindly to men whom used their influence to belittle others. He had not yet been a mature age, but he would not be pushed around by them “what is your name, Sieur” he tried with might to spit the last word out as venomous as the devil in front of him had, and in a decades to come he would manage. Not today, though.

Hugh sucked in the air around him, bracing himself for the impact he would not feel himself. He winced when he saw Lucius draw his hand back and deliver a harsh slap to the boys bum, and had closed his eyes by the time Lucius reached 10.

He was sniffling, though not crying. Not even his own father had punished him so hard, and he had caused far greater mischief at home then he had thar day.

Lucius grabbed his skinny arm and threw him on his horse, and the boy lay on his stomach over the saddle “Next time boy tell me your name” he growled, and aimed back towards the village to return it to which way it came from.

 520…ish…

Lucius’ sword scraped along the ground and the stone bit out an ear piercing screech at the contact “Matthaeus, keep slipping the wood from your shoulders and I will tan your rear” he smirked “no matter how you’ve aged”

Matthews shoulder ached from the constant, unrelenting work he had been subjected to for the past three months. The De Clermonts had demanded requested another part to their stone tower, and his craftsmanship had been sought after. He welcomed the work, and begrudged the barbarian whom had been overseeing the build.

Matthew huffed, disgruntled at the sheer lack of decency by this muck-spouted, quisby fopdoodle. Matthew used every derogatory word in his capability to describe Lucius, and he chuckled thinking of the wonderous foul language

“You jest, please share” Lucius growled, becoming impatient with the runt

“You wish to distract me from my important work, Sieur” He smirked back, using his free hand to wipe a stray bead of sweat “your father will not be pleased”

“speak less of my father and more of what thoughts ensued such joyous laughter” his arms stretched out to emphasize his speech as his voice became mocking

Hugh looked over nervously and had secured his blade within it’s sheath knowing within all of three minutes be would referee his brother and the human. They had yet to come to physical blows, and Hugh knew it would occur soon and hoped his home would be built before his brother murdered the towns best stonemason.

“I cannot speak such thoughts as they bare ill towards my Sieur, and I fear he may redden my ass” he quipped back, tipping his chin higher “perhaps though he looks for an excuse to darken my rear” he chuckled, and the men around let a small laughter escape

Lucius face fell at the insinuation and Hughs eye’s popped out of his skull. His brother was known in every city for being a woman loving, bed hopping whore and this suggestiveness would anger him.

Lucius took slow, purposeful steps toward in the impotent swine and the light of day shuddered in response “What did you say” he growled

Matthew, having been one of two men who dared challenge Lucius (the other only being Sieur Philippe) dropped the wood he was holding and met the man in the middle of the stoned courtyard “I said, perhaps you endeavour to redden my ass as an excuse to see it in all its glory” he bit out. He had grown to an impossible human height, and now matched the vampire in length. Where he did lack though, was the brawn the Roman possessed.

Lucius thought better of satisfying the runt with a reply, and simply patted him on the shoulder. He leant in to whisper to him “you will learn to regret that, boy”

Everyone had been shocked at the calm, collectiveness of Sieur Lucius that day and thought he may have changed.

He had not.

 Three weeks later

It had been a difficult few weeks, and his work never seemed to end. The days had gotten longer and the work excruciating. One solace had been his unrelenting ruler Lucius had not made much comment since the day some weeks ago. He had kept out of Matthews way, and managed to be as polite as he could. That was unsettling.

Matthew made the short walk to his home, dreaming of his awaiting cot and he could practically smell the stew wafting through the streets awaiting for him to return home.

His ears picked up an odd sound coming through his stone walls, and tentatively stepped inside his home. He had almost vomited at the unsightly thing he had been subjected to; his loving, wonderful mother whom he doted on had been ontop of their dining table being entertained by the devil.

He had seen enough; the copper haired bastard had sarded with his mother.

His slammed the door with an ominous thunk, and sank down on the stone wall out of earshot. He would have stern words with his mother, and a sharp knife for him.

The door creaked open and Lucius had looked proud of himself. He thought he had done a good deed, the woman was widowed and short of this months tax payments. Her sons efforts to keep a roof over their heads had been noticed but he felt entitled to ensure she made up the rest of the payments. The added bonus being her impertinent son had seen, and he could not doubt his intentions again.

He made good measure to ensure Matthew had seen him jostling his trousers and tucking in his unruly clothing before approaching him on the stone wall. Matthew rose from his seat, his face riddled with hatred “You utter bastard” his sent a dissatisfying week shove to him, and this ensued hysterics from the blood sucker

He grinned “I was collecting your taxes” he could not manage any anger, he had released his frustrations on the boys mother (and she had accepted them happily and satisfied) “Do not fear boy, you will not have to call me father” he tipped his head back roaring with laughter as he retreated.

As he had gotten further away, Matthew had hoped staring a hole through his head would result in him dying.

It did not.

530…ish?...

Ysabaeu had almost looked sad at the sorrowful state lying crumpled on the floor. Matthew, the bright boy from the village laid broken on the cobbles. She had sensed his bones were no longer in tact and knew if she did not act quick, the world would lose a bright spark.

Lucius grumbled loudly looking at his stepmother whom had a doe-eyed expression. She was about to make it her child. “Perhaps he will be fine” he tried to reason, and gave his leg a quick tap for good measure “see, hardly broken”

Ysabaeu growled, stepping over the broken body to his side “if you do not wish to be in the same sorrowful state, I suggest you leave”

“Now, there is no such need for dramatics” Philippes voice boomed unnecessarily loud and the world almost stood still everytime he spoke “Come Lucius, leave Ysabaeu to her own devices”

He looked to the pitiful sight on the floor and shrugged “all over a woman” he spat “pathetic”. Lucius could not fathom a love so deep a man would fling himself from a bell tower and thought him week to do so. Perhaps he could sympathise the loss of a child, but he could not care for it. He sneered, and left awaiting the arrival of his pitiful new brother.

 Matthews transformation had been far from easy, and with his sickened blood Lucius had found new reason to hate him. He had known Ysabeaus was tainted, but he had to feign a care for her since she was mated to his father. This thing he did not care to like.

He saw an opportunity now Matthew had turned and took great satisfaction in knowing the next time they shared words he could beat him in every way he had dreamed of. No longer a frail human, he would choke him till his heart exploded with joy.

He had been known for a shortened temper, but it was something about this oozing sack of self-pitying puss that truly angered him. As a boy he was self-entitled, in puberty he was utterly impudent and in adulthood he has acted like a degenerate. If it were not for his skills in building, his head would be nicely mounted to a stick in Lucius room.

As the days drew to a close, Ysabaeu proudly presented her son to her family. The celebratory dinner saw him welcomed, though it truly was just an opportunity for Philippe to be centre of everyone’s attention.

Matthew had not liked the crowded feel and had been grateful for his now ‘step-father’ taking up the role of entertainer, host and joker. His mind still burned from the memory of his wife and child and his heart bled in pain thinking of his loss. How he could go on, why he had agreed to go on wounded his thoughts as he betrayed his love and his God.

His eyes met Lucius across the dining table, his own dark orbs to his golden, fiery ones. He could feel the hate burn his veins, and did not once avert his gaze as he would have done as a human.

“Lucius” Philippes melodic voice broke the trance “Come, lets walk our grounds” His arm swung over the shoulder of his favourite son and goaded him into leaving the table

The sweltering, humid air had reflected the conversation at hand hot and stifling. Atleast, that is how Lucius felt “Come now Son, I trust no other with this” Philippe tried to reason. His most trusted, favoured son had a wicked temper but he could not place this into the hands of another.

“I do not understand, why of everyone you burden me with such a task” he growled, though it were more of a petulant child grumble then of a genuine challenging nature

“Ysabaeu’s sickened bloodline cannot be uncovered, nor Matthews affliction. I need you to be his guardian. To ensure he is kept in check” Phillipe tightened the grip on his shoulder and sighed deeply “Please”

He was not one for begging, but his relationship with this boy had been different. In some respects, despite the age gap he saw Lucius as his equal, someone he could admire for his sharp mind. He thought paces ahead of anyone around and even sometimes himself.

Lucius regarded this request, and thought of no other way to make this tolerable “if you expect I take Matthew as my charge, expect I shall not refrain from relentlessly making his life a misery, and beating him” he folded his arms across his broad chest and stood in front of his father holding the upper ground “and so help me God, if he ever does something to jeopardise the family, I will put him down”

Philippe nodded, knowing better to argue once he had set his mind “do try to atleast be friendly with him”

“I attempted so once, I allowed his mother to slip on taxes” he tipped his chin upward patronisingly “he was ungrateful”

Philippe gave his boy a stern look “Sarding his mother is not attempting to be friendly. It is antagonising”

“How does the corpse of his dead wife fair?” He smirked maliciously as his father’s face fell

“You are a very sick boy, Lucius” he shook his head in disbelief. He had known this was said in jest, but the depths of his bleak imagination had been one of the few thigs still to surprise the ancient being.

“No father, Matthew is the sick one. I am perfectly well, perhaps you are losing your mind”.

The clip around the earlobe Lucius received from that comment could still be felt almost 2000 years later.