FicWad

Someone's holding you back, clutching at your arms to stop you diving into the room and killing him. You don't know who they are - you're too angry to even see straight, which is probably good for them because if they don't let you go right now you're going to rip them apart.

You know who's clutching at your waist though; it's Pon-chan, chanting "please" and "stoppit" and "T-chan you can't you'll be killed" and she's right. You know she's right. You just don't care. You want to explain it to her, you really do, you want her to understand so she can make the others let you go.

Look, you want to say to her, to them. Our loyalty's to the Count. Anyone who hurts him dies. We killed his sister for less than this, I'm not afraid of taking on his Grandfather. But all that's coming out of your mouth are growls and threats, and all your struggling' no good when there's six of them digging claws and teeth into you - they'll drag you back in pieces if they have to, and you suppose that He thinks it's funny proving that the animals' fear of him outweighs their loyalty to his grandson.

You're not going to give up though, are you? Not while D's sitting demure and proper on the sofa, hands clasped so tightly he's drawing blood, face averted from his grandfather and eyes focused on the floor. Not while he's letting long nailed fingers trail through his hair and down his chest, while a face so similar to his own presses against his throat and whispers lies into his skin.

You swore your loyalty to the Count, not to his family. You'll fight till the death for him, even if he won't.