Chapter Text
Moscow was not an ideal setting for a vampire to learn to swim, especially in the winter. Yet alas, Mikael's maker had other plans.
“No, I swear I didn't- I would never!” The words tumbled past Mikael's chattering teeth as he was hauled along the snow, barefoot as he'd been pulled from the studio without time to even put on socks.
“I told you to stay away from Amadeo,” the name fell from Adrian's lips as if he were uttering poison. Mikael winced. “I told you to stay away from Maruis' boy, yet you look at him as if he's God himself.” Adrian hissed as he hauled Mikael further from the manor, away from the warmth.
God, Mikael wanted to laugh; he would if it wasn't for the cold and his maker's ire. Adrian had found him, in no uncertain terms, “high as a blasted kite.” pupils blown wide as if he'd hauled opium like it had been air.
Mikael had claimed it had been vodka, had been adamant about it. A lie, of course. Mikael could hold his liquor down rather well, even for a vampire.
He'd been dragged through the gates, snow crunching under his feet.
“Master, please, I'll be good!” Mikael had begged as several coven members had gathered to watch under the shelters of the archways as the snowfall intensified.
“I won't look at him again,” a lie.” Please, I'll never go near him again, I swear, I won't even think of him-” another lie, Mikael needed Amadeo like he desired to live.
“I take you in, under my wing, and you repay me by propositioning yourself to Maruis' boy?!” A sharp yank to Mikael's arm as a sob left the chattering vampire, whether from cold, shame, or emotional agony, no one knew.
“I'd never, no I wouldn't, master please, I-” Mikael was sobbing uncontrollably, but it came more so in hiccups, the familiar feeling of shame coiling in his gut.
He, do something like that, something so vulgar and debasing, to someone so sweet as Amadeo, never, in all his immortal years, he'd-
Yet his pleas fell on deaf ears as they always did.
The water was a shock to his system, to “cleanse him,” Adrian had yelled. The twins had stepped forward in an attempt to stop their coven head, to no avail.
Cold.
So cold
He'd forgotten how to swim, or more so how to swim in such harsh conditions, arms flailing as he'd tried to get out, to plead, beg forgiveness, yet Adrian had held him under.
Cold
Could a vampire die of hypothermia? Mikael did not know.
He vaguely registers his own screaming amidst Adrian hauling him up for air, or maybe it was just a better grasp to dunk him back under.
“You will learn,” Adrian had hissed. Mikael struggled to catch his words, the cold seeping into his bones as the water made his ears ring.
“You will repent and learn!”
Mikael had been left under the water, a cloth tied to his wrist, and then the ends hammered into the ice with a nail, to keep him from drifting away, probably the twins' idea.
It was still dark when he'd been pulled out, lips blue, frozen, so he must have been in there for a few hours at least.
He'd almost preferred to stay in the cold water when the winter air hit his skin, for he did not feel his clothes anymore.
Mikael did not recall what had led to this, warm hands, for anything would be warm at this point, had dropped him on the ice, then dragged him.
Sleep sounded like a good notion right about now.
The doors opened, the chill in Mikaels bones replaced with some warmth.
The pelasentness was short lived however as he'd been flung across the cathedral, his back hitting the altar with a slight crunch, probably a bone breaking from what Mikael could feel.
“You will repent!” Adrian had hissed, ranting about Mikaels supposed transgressions as if he'd insulted god somehow.
He'd hauled Mikael to the altar by the hair, and the vampire barely registered the pain.
‘Sleep sounded nice.’
‘Amadeo teaching him French sounded nice to his mind.’
Mikael had finally regained some faint sensations in his bones, as he'd been manacled to the altar, his wrists bound onto the slab, he still felt cold, despite the warmth of the cathedral not doing much to warm him.
Adrian had fussed around something out of Mikaels' vision, still muttering, he caught movement from his peripheral vision, then the manacles were unscrewed from the altar, and he was hauled to the back, a fireplace burning steadily, he'd struggled, of course, he'd struggled.
Vampires and fire didn't mix well.
Adrian had shoved the manacles into the fireplace, holding Mikael by the shoulders in a vice grip.
It felt warm at first, albeit briefly.
Then it burned
He'd have preferred the ice to this, the numbing cold to the agonizing burning of flesh, no matter how he tugged his hands, the manacles and Adrian held fast
He didn't register his own screams, too exhausted.
At some point, his hands had been pulled away, his form crumpling to the church floor, looking ashen, like death all over, as Adrian had released him.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-” the words fell from Mikael's lips like a prayer, anything to get his maker to not look at him with such loathing, he'd be good.
“If I ever catch you near that rat again, you won't have any hands to perform with.”
The threat had rang like a death sentence in Mikaels' ears, he felt like flinging himself into the flames rather than be looked at with such disgust.
He'd been dragged back to the hole in the ice, the nail sticking out conspicuously; the rag must have come off at some point.
Adrian had just dropped him, manacled, burnt hands and all, and left.
Mikael had tried to cry, to plead, to beg for mercy, mercy, such a funny concept, one Adrian had no notion of.
After some time, footsteps approached again, not Adrian's, for the crunch in the snow was different.
"My fledgling likes you, so I see no need to keep you under the ice. It would be an inconvenience to see you go to waste.”
Ah, Marius. That's what Mikael could make of the voice as he struggled to sit up.
“And I'd rather you not turn to ash, Amadeo would be sad.”
Mikael blearily made out the dawn starting to settle on the horizon, the pinkish clouds a thin line amidst the trees.
The sun would be up soon.
“Do you wish to live?”
Mikael managed to sit up, barely, but still. That was the second time he'd been asked this by an undead Fucking asshole vampire.
He'd spat at the blonde asshole if he could, curse his name out in both Russian and limited French, for his treatment of Amadeo, yet he didn't, too cold for much.
The hand remained extended, a silent offering, seemingly innocent, yet Mikael knew it was probably anything but.
He tried to focus.
‘Would Adrian come back for him if he refused this help?’
‘ Would he be put back under the freezing ice? Or left to become nothingness when the sun rose? He'd fling himself into the flames first-’
‘he could be useful, yes, he'd take the offer and prove himself useful, he'd stay away from Amadeo if his maker wished it, he'd never look at him again, would not think of the warmth he gave so freely-’
Mikael, with trembling hands, he'd get frostbite if he already hadn't, and shook Marius' hand, the manacles clanking against his wrists, eyes barely open.
And the old man had smiled, that charming, sharp smile that made Mikael wish he was back under the ice.