Chapter Text
“Gosh, you guys are good-looking.” Vax flirts sweetly, flashing the most authentic smile he can muster, his pose relaxed and friendly. If he can convince the Briarwoods he’s just a stupid servant, then maybe, maybe he can slip past them.
Lady Briarwood gives him an equally authentic-looking smile, which catches Vax slightly off guard. Her lord shifts behind him, the tips of his fingers grazing Vax’s shoulders. “How kind of you to say that. You’re not bad yourself, little thing.” His voice is thick, soft, unusually intoxicating. “Th-thank you.” he stutters out as fingertips curl over his collarbone. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to go-” He tries to slip out of his grasp, but as he takes a step, the Lady is suddenly in front of him.
“...Go. Go. Uhm.” His tongue grows thick in his mouth as he meets her eyes. They’re a beautiful stormcloud grey, and he finds himself drawn into them as if into an icy pool. Something smooth and cold slips over his brain, softening his limbs and resolve. “Go where, beautiful?” She asks. If his voice was velvet, hers was honey, just as thick but far sweeter.
“Back to my friends.” The words fall out of his mouth without his notice. She smiles. “Who’re your friends? I’d love to meet them.” “I’m sure they’d love to meet you too.” He responds, a smile curling up his lips. “Well, maybe except Percy, I don’t think he likes you very much.” Delilah glances behind him at her husband, then meets his eyes again. “Percy?” She moves forward, unconcerned, and starts smoothing down his jacket. “Is that short for Percival, perchance?”
He nods. “Percival De Rolo. There’s a bunch of names in the middle there, too. But everyone else I think - especially my sister, and Scanlan - I think they’d like you.” Delilah fusses with his collar for a moment more, Vax relishing in her light touches, before she says quietly, “I think that’s quite enough, beautiful.” She steps back, and Sylas’ grip on his shoulders tightens. “May I?” He purrs into Vax’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Delilah gives a slight nod, and Vax feels Lord Briarwood's grip tighten. His breath hitches as lips meet his pulse, almost teasing the area, testing it gently with his tongue. Through the cold fog smothering his mind, he feels his head tilt to the side, baring his neck to Sylas. He begins to work the area with his mouth, and before long, Vax feels the dull pain of a bruise forming. He groans slightly at the feeling, his eyes drifting back to his Lady's. She smiles, and he sees her wrist flick. The fog vanishes from his mind.
Panic rips through him, but before he can twitch, something sharp pierces his throat, and a strangled cry slips out of him. An unnatural coldness flows out from the wound, and he desperately tries to pull himself free. He moves just enough for bright pain to flare from where teeth still connect him to the Lord, before his muscles lock involuntarily, and he can do nothing but gasp quietly as his fingers start to grow numb, limbs twitching feebly.
“Don’t kill him quite yet, love, he’s such a pretty thing. It’d be a shame.” Delilah implores her husband. Sylas detaches from his neck, gasping for air, and a full body shiver flows through his large body. He releases the small rogue, then circles around in front of him, bright eyes tracing him up and down, tongue swiping his lips clean of dark red blood. “What, then, should we do with him?” He asks, still slightly breathless.
Vax shivers in discomfort, his limbs trembling against whatever spell has him locked in place. The Lady ponders for a moment, a finger tapping her chin, then smiles. “I suggest we give him a gift for his friends.” She purrs out. “Something to remember us by.” At this, Sylas grins lightly, letting one hand return to his shoulder and gently trace the line of his neck, over the two small wounds.
He does something strange, then - he lifts his other hand, then bites into his own wrist, drawing out a murky, almost black liquid. He keeps Vax’s eyes as he does this, and the sight is so perplexing, he forgets to struggle for a moment. Sylas finishes, then places his now bloodied hand tightly on the slight dip of Vax’s hip. With preternatural speed, the hand on his pulse locks around the back of his neck, and he's tugged forward into a deep, luscious kiss.
Vax cries out at that, or tries to, but whatever makes it past his lips is muffled by Lord Briarwoods’ tongue. His limbs remain taut, trembling with increased fervor, though he remains pliable in the unnaturally strong arms. Something thick slips into his mouth, something rotten, clotted. He would gag if he could, but the Lady has a vice grip on even that reflex. The hand on his throat gently massages his trachea as Sylas presses in, almost dipping Vax backwards, and he involuntarily swallows the liquid down.
“This is WRONG, THIS IS WRONG” His mind screams at him, and finally, FINALLY, he manages to rip control of his body back. He falls backwards, gasping, away from the monster in front of him, who merely smiles, his teeth stained black. He retches, one hand clawing at his throat, and scrabbles back. Lord Briarwood steps towards him, but he slips to the side, eyes desperately darting around the room. Delilah is in between him and the door, but the window is clear - without another thought, he takes off in that direction, uncertain of how high they are off the ground.
He crosses his arms in front of his face, one hand going to his earring with a whispered “Jenga!” He braces himself, and CRASH - the window shatters, gravity taking hold. He falls to the ground, and somehow, despite the haze of pain clouding the edges of his consciousness, manages to perfectly roll right into a full sprint. His vision tunnels to the edge of the garden; he’s so close. If he can just make it to the wall, he can jump over and -
All his muscles involuntarily lock up, and with a strangled cry, he crashes to the soft, dewy grass. No, no, no, not again! He can feel his stomach churning, something’s inside him, it feels wrong, he needs to get away! His vision blurs, his shoulder painfully dug into the loose dirt, and he feels too weak to struggle. His eyes begin to slip closed, something sickly pulsing through him and sapping his life force.
“VAX!” His sister’s cry pierces through him. His eyes snap open and focus on her face, maybe a hundred feet away, sprinting towards him. He thinks he can see tears in her eyes. He tries to open his mouth, to call back to her, but he’s still locked in place. Fuck, he thinks, and before he can renew his fight against her magic, something fists the collar of his jacket and pulls him into an upright position. He can see now the rest of Vox Machina barreling towards him, Vex’ahlia leading the charge.
“Stop there, all of you.” Lady Briarwood’s voice rings out far louder than it should, and a strong hand grips Vax’s throat once again, another wrapping around his left arm. Sylas is pressed against his back, his head right next to his ear, his hand applying just enough pressure to make his breaths an effort. He can feel Lady Briarwood’s spell fade as her hands contort into another casting, but it doesn’t matter - Sylas’ grip holds him just as firm.
His friends’ pace slows, but they continue to advance, and Sylas growls a warning. His hand tightens, and Vax chokes weakly, his free arm coming up to scrabble at his grip. His friends reluctantly halt, weapons ready, Vex’s bowstring pulled tight. “Release him.” She calls out, and Percy supplements her: “Or else.” He looks like he’s shrouded in smoke, but Vax wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hallucinating it at this point.
The Lady smiles at Percy’s voice. “Look, dear, the pup yet lives! A shame we won’t be able to play with him, too.” Sylas’ grip tightens further, and Vax can feel his head throbbing; he starts struggling feverishly, blindly. “Yes, a shame.” Sylas sighs into his ear. “At least we can finish with this one first.” The velvet voice caresses him, but he can barely hear it. Vex shifts her aim to Sylas. “This is your last warning! Release him, or I swear to the Gods -”
Vex’s threat is cut off as whatever spell Delilah had been holding rips towards her, and Vax can see her crumple. He’s about to use what little air he has left to call her name when the hand suddenly vanishes, and he’s able to suck in a breath. Before he can move, though, that stinging pain returns to his neck, and he gasps as he can feel the sickening wave inside him rise up, threatening to drown him. His heart beats loudly in his ears and he coughs, chokes on his own blood mixed with something rotten in his throat, and his vision tunnels to a pinpoint. The last thing he sees is his sister, unnaturally grey, looking at him with raw desperation, before his eyes slip closed, the only thing left a faint white face enclosed by the darkness.