Sharp Daggers
Remmick x Witch! Reader
Summary. A century old witch meets the newest danger of the Delta: Remmick the vampire. Two lonesome souls find eachother, mutually repelling and attracting simultaneously. Would they finally confess how lonely they've been? Would they allow themselves to ask for company?, for empathy?, for forgiveness?
Tags. Vampire x Witch Pairing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst-Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut. Warnings. Violence and blood, mentions of murder and mutilation, explicit sexual content. Chapter 1/3 AO3 Next chapter MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
CHAPTER 1. WARM WATER
The swamp was deadly silent except for the motion of two strong hands breaking bones as if they were mere tree branches. First, an open neck and the rib cage, then, the spine, with sounds of grunts and limbs being tossed to the depth of the lake. Surely some alligator would find them tasteful. As for Remmick, dead blood was no use. He'd feed every once in a while, just to stay strong. But most of the time, the blood sucker would hide in the darkest places of the swamp, maybe an abandoned ruin of what used to be a plantation deep into impossibly long lines of trees. Those were -in a twisted way- his favorite places to hide. Enough room to rest comfortably (on the dirtiest of duvets) and the security of a closed space. Unlike the swamp where every sound could mean hunters or other vampires. None of those options were ideal, he decided.
As for now, as he was getting rid of his last meal, an ache took hold of him. It’s been a while now since the pain started, washed over completely. The intensity remains the same, he just learned how to ground himself whenever comes back. It could only be described as an intense hurt from the deepest nerve inside him, reaching to his very skin. All organs seem to pause and breathing becomes unbearable. It started right after his plans of getting Sammy out of the Juke failed miserably, heck, he didn’t even get to transform a single soul that night. Instead he fed on the couple that took him in right before the Choctaw scouts reached him. He wondered if things would have gone differently if he’d chosen to transform them. Maybe he would’ve succeeded, or maybe he’d be dead by now. Anyways, he can’t quite explain this profound discomfort. Only that his dreams will flood him with signs and images of places that he doesn’t know, and a woman, the same each time. Maybe it’s the alligator blood.
On the opposite side of the swamp two careful hands reached for branches of black willow, stinging nettle and rosemary that grew in a small garden. A witch’s garden, your garden. Word spread quickly in town thanks to the Moore twins of the stranger that appeared a few nights ago in their inauguration. And so now, you took the endeavor of fixing a protection amulet for your home: rue and rosemary, “and garlic, just in case”, as your friend and fellow herbalist, Annie warned you. There’s no denying your anxiousness, but there’s a part of you that is so eager to meet this foreigner, to know his story, to peek at the edge of their mystery, even if it puts you in danger. Would you call out for him? Deep inside you, you hope the amulet won’t work and instead lures him to your doorstep.
Even for your now century of age, you’re still an impulsive and curious young woman. It was in your late 20s that you froze in time by accident. When an enchantment was wrongly pronounced and the goddesses instead made you immortal, or so you believe, since you can’t age, -you’re still unsure if you can't die-, or if someday the enchantment will fade. For now, you lead a tranquil life, lonesome at times, but all yours whatsoever. Now, you needed something to disrupt the routine, and this stranger was the perfect excuse to visit the swamp looking for clues. And you ain’t wastin no time.
As the sun was setting you were making sure to carry everything you needed: a knife, a smaller amulet, a hidden dagger and garlic, “just in case”, again. You were going to make the most of the trip and so wild herbs, plants and even flowers would go home with you. The expectation was to figure out about tracks or signs of a vampire, as Annie suggested. You’ve never met one on the flesh, would he be friendly?, centuries old?, cold or violent? Better keep your distance, to know him before he notices you, then you’ll decide what to do.
You knew the swamp like the palm of your hand. After a few turns, climbing rocks and descending close to the wetlands, you finally rested and started to pay attention to the whispers, sounds and breathing. Oh the swamp is truly alive! Alive and safe from humans, for now.
You were looking for the spilling of blood or identifying animal corpses in unusual circumstances. You could sense the hurt and the wounds, if any, on the decaying bodies; that will tell you enough of what you’re searching for. The trance was interrupted suddenly by something -or someone- stepping over a fallen branch. But then again, you were far enough from the point where anything moved uncautiously. Whatever made that sound, already spotted you.
Perturbations of peace aren’t always negative, and many times they shake the grounds, showing the fissures of what apparently was perfect, you reasoned. Something was about to happen, although you don’t know what yet. You learned to identify premonitions from anxiety way before immortality came around. And this time was clear as day, the swamp was calling your name.
“Who’s there? Show yourself” A laugh resonated from the heart of the trees. And you were curious, not stupid. Quickly you turned back to run away, but whatever heard you was about to catch you. Remembering a spell that would definitely allow you to fight back, you conjured it faster than any previous time in your life. When you were sure he - she - it was about to catch you, you turned back again and boom! a thunder struck them right from your hands and you were pushed by the discharge of energy falling over your feet.
The first thing you noticed when the smoke disappeared was the smell of burning flesh, secondly, the fact that they were still alive, this was no human, altought… it seemed human, a man, to be precise. The vampire found you.
“God damn you, woman!” he screamed while trying to get on his feet again.
“Don’t come closer, you undead man! I warn you!”
Then he started to… laugh? Well, something close to it, as he was in such pain.
“What in the devil’s ass was that, woman?” he asked, really trying to pull himself together.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, undead creature? And stop calling me that!”
“You stop calling me that!, what on earth did you do to me?” asked again.
“A precaution, now, let me go in peace and I won't hurt you, understand?”
“You wouldn’t get far even if you tried, your limping foot is obvious.” Finally, you’re able to see his face. He was nothing like you imagined, thinking about depictions of goddamned Dracula, he was… actually quite good-looking, human looking.
He was also right, you couldn't get far and you were scared too, as a matter of fact. This went nothing like you expected. After the adrenalin went away your left foot started hurting really bad too.
He offered immediately “What about a truce? I help you get out of the swamp and in exchange you do me a favor…”
“What sort of favor? And what kind of guarantee can you offer me? Just a second ago you were trying to hunt me down, asshole.”
“Whoa, said the lady”
“I’m no lady, I’m the witch you should be running from”
“Ah-ha! Knew you weren't mortal.”
“Duh, and I know who you are… I was, well sort of, I mean, I wanted to know you…” that confused and amused him simultaneously. “Ugh, I heard there was a vampire in town, so I ventured a little, just to get a glance-…” now it was unmistakable. He was openly laughing, laughing at you.
“You’re not very bright aren’t you? Now, why on earth would you do that? Do you have any idea how lucky you are that I just drank a whole alligator?" He both insults you but amuses you too, you noticed.
“If that’s the way you speak to a woman, then I’m not interested in knowing anything more about you, Sir- Vampire. This conversation is over.” You tried to walk again until bam! You're all over the floor once more. He did not suppress his laughter, again.
But he decided enough was enough too, and carefully approached you. When you raised your head he was offering you a hand “Name’s Remmick, my lady."
He lifted you and took you right out of the swamp, he didn’t even try to know where you lived. To be fair, he only made sure you could walk in better grounds with an improvised cane (a fallen branch, really) and let you go on your own. When you got on your feet again, you turned to at least thank him. But he was already gone. And that’s how you met Remmick the vampire.
For the next few days he was the only thing on your mind. The encounter sparked a renewed curiosity for vampires, and so you tried collecting as many books about vampirism as you could get. Even daring to ask Annie about it; when you brought up the topic she only raised an eyebrow as asking “What did you do this time?” But nothing compared to the thrill of being in front of him, you had to admit.
You were making amends with the fact that maybe you’ll never meet him again, maybe he's already gone, traveling to the next population to drink from. If you only knew, he too was questioning what kept him on this very side of the Delta. Never spending that much time in one place, exposed, alone. The only thing he knew was that after meeting you, his ache and random hurt dissapeared.
One night you heard someone knocking loudly at your door. You opened feeling their uneasiness. Of course, who else could it be but him. “Remmick, what are you doing? How did you find me?”
“Are you kidding me? Whole swamp stinks of you. I followed your trace. Such nice place, by the way” said sarcastically.
“That’s impossible, it's been days since I was down there, besides I’ve just read that vampires can’t -”
“Are you not gonna let me in?” he interrupted
“Never, there’s nothing inside that could be of any use for you.”
“I need you to let me in, woman… Look I’m being followed”
“That’s even worse!”
“...It’s the klan” he interrupted again. “I might have ugh…” he made a gesture with his hands that implied ‘killing’ “...one of them the other night while feeding. Well, he and his wife. I knew they were… that, but I just couldn't resist erasing their existence from the earth, you know?”
“Do you really think I believe any of this? What are you? Do you think of yourself as a righteous vampire?”
“Honey, I'm the worst of vampires, but even I refuse to become a monster like them.” The pet name caught you by surprise.
“If I let you in tonight… would you be able to enter anytime? Even if I refuse?”
“Well yes, but think of it this way, human men are even more gross and terrible, and yet they could enter anytime, even if you refused. Yes, I could enter and try to drink your blood, and maybe this is all a lie I made up to achieve it. But you’re also the closest I have to an equal -as immortality goes-, why would I make myself vulnerable by killing you?”
You hated that this made sense and so with a sigh and a gesture you opened the door.
“Ugh, only for tonight, Remmick. I mean it. Besides, I did owe you one.”
As fast as he entered, the whole atmosphere changed. It was awkward and tense but also exciting. Things started to move around him, starting with you. Leading him to the small sofa you owned and that practically made the entire lounge (only accompanied by a bookshelf, a coffee table and a chair by the fireplace), -it was small, like everything you owned but cozy-, you kept a safe distance.
He first noticed the amulet you made days prior, the one with garlic and smiled. “You’ve made a real home for yourself here” he pointed. Then he noticed the volumes of vampirism over the small table.
“I… uh, was doing some research, not at all related to you.”
“Yeah, right. If you’re curious you could just ask. I promise I’ll tell the truth and only the truth”
“But why?”
“What do you mean by that?” He found it amusing, again.
“You speak of it as if you see me as your equal, and as if we've met a long time ago. I just don’t understand where this trust comes from.” It was true, for a second time you’ve met, this was feeling way too familiar.
“Let me put it this way… we both used to be human. Something happened that made us way, immortality and all. Sure, I can still drink your blood, but as I said you’re the closest I’ve had to an ally… and maybe I'm growing tired of cultivating enemies.”
“Remmick the vampire… are you asking me to be your friend?”
“Don’t be absurd.” he laughed openly. “Creatures like us don't have friends”
“I do, plenty. Whenever I go I make them. And then I mourn them, miss them…. keep loving them.” This sparked a genuine smile in him, it was maybe the first time you've seen him do something genuine. No ulterior motives.
“I do not envy that sort of pain. But then again, I already carry my own” he got closer to your small collection of liquor over the corner.
It was too the first time you saw him -really saw him- his clothes seemed worn and dirty. His complexion was lean but strong, and maybe you weren’t as scared as you should. He sensed your gaze and turned back smiling. “Do you like what you see?”
“I’ll fix you a bath.” Was all you could manage to say. And with that you left the small living room.
Meanwhile he washed his body, -god knows when was the last time he had a proper relaxing bath-, you mended and washed his clothes, and made a mental note to get some new for he next time he comes around… next time. You're already hoping for a third encounter.
After what seemed like hours, he finally changed into his clean clothes. “Let me tell you something, let’s meet up for the human festivities. I’ve heard they’re organizing something like a dance and a fair downtown. You’ll tell me about this friendship thing and I’ll tell you about my family. Do we have a deal?”
That’s when you realized, there’s nothing in this green earth you’ll ever deny to Remmick. This natural predator you’ll do anything to make him your friend. “I’d love to… goodnight, Remmick.” And with that, you closed the door to your bedroom whilst he made himself feel like home right there on your small sofa.
You wore your best dress for the fair, with matching earrings and makeup in a fashion you actually like that said: I’m a witch. The only mismatched element was the beating of your heart, faster than ever before and erratic. And who are you fooling? You’re terribly nervous, excited, expectant. Since you've arrived, you have already mistaken two other men for Remmick. What if he doesn’t show up?
You were just about to leave and make your way home when a hand touched your arm. “Thank god you didn’t strand me up, that would’ve broken my heart.” You turned to face him, he was wearing a white shirt, black dress pants, and some boots to go with it. His hair styled in a fashionable style and a single hair strand framing his face. He looked… awfully handsome, you cursed.
And the way he looked at you, it was just way too confusing. He seemed… relieved that you showed up. But there was something else, if he was another man you would’ve bet he was mesmerized by you. No, that’s impossible. As if he was reading your thoughts -the last thing you need- he added “I’m a lucky man, such a beauty makes me company tonight”. You couldn’t tell if he was joking. What are you thinking? He’s obviously joking, he’s always making fun of you!, you decided. But something about it felt as genuine as the smile from previous nights.
Unexpectedly, you had fun, laughed and danced amongst humans for what seemed hours, way past midnight. Maybe it was the complicity, the stolen glances, the jokes that only immortals could cynically tell, that made the night perfect. Until the appearance of a certain group of white old males. Oh you could bet they were Klan, they have that look of miserable pieces of shit. And they were scanning the whole mixed dance floor but keeping quiet, as if they were looking for…
Immediately you felt like Remmick was trying to hide behind you. “I didn't think we’re safe here anymore, princess”
“Got any ideas where to take this party?” You gave him a conspiratorial look but felt shaken by the petname, again.
“Let’s go home” and he took your hand softly and ran before anyone could notice the disappearance of the loudest couple of the night. Not once in the whole path did he let go of your hand, not that you were complaining. Except of course, the looks people were giving you made you blush. To their eyes, you were perhaps courting, married even. Marriage… you never really thought about it. Was Remmick ever married? He does wear a ring. Did he lose her? Or is it just a safety precaution? A way to seem closer to humans so he can approach and drink from them?
The trail of thoughts was interrupted when he let go of your hand once you were alone and closer to your small cottage. Once inside, -he did not need to ask you again-, you warmed your dinner and took it to the small studio-living room.
Both sat on the floor, in front of the coffee table. Closer than ever before but keeping distance. Still, you feel the pull, you orbit around him every time he comes near you. Determined to not allow uncomfortable silences you asked him about his fugitive state from both the Choctaw nation and the Klan.
Surprisingly, he was almost expecting you to ask and offered you all the details. From his travels to his misdemeanors and mischief. The ease in which he makes ‘enemies’ everywhere he goes and the murder of Joan and Bert. “The plan that night was to get in and transform the singer kid so I could get a chance to reunite with my family… ” he called your name “...do you realize I couldn’t even get in? I’m pathetic”
You don't know what to say to that, it’s almost comical. “You’re not pathetic but maybe… would you like to try something else? Like an enchantment or magic? I could try to make a spell for whatever you wish”
“Like the one you used when you tried to kill me?”
“That’s different…”
“I appreciate the gesture but I don’t think there’s anything I could do now except maybe…dying? Who knows.”
“Hey, don’t say that!” his sentence made your chest hurt “I can find a way, really, don’t dispair”
“It’s hard for me to consider that you'd go this lengths only to help me, what’s the trick?”
“How dare you! This is a genuine gesture and it’s just… I mean, ugh. I just, you know… ughhh… I really want to be your friend” you covered your face in shame but heard nothing like a laugh from him as you expected. Daring to look at him once more, you find him half smiling.
“If you insist then I guess I have to let you help me find a way…”
Both stared at each other in a comfortable silence. Until he said:
“You know, I don’t think I remember their voices anymore, and their faces are ever changing in my mind… my family, I mean.” He decided that if you were going to help him out, you should know his story. And so he began telling you all about the men that stole his ancestral lands, his own voice, his language and loved ones.
You can’t begin to imagine how painful it is. Of course, you've had your fair share of losses but never by violence such. When he finished, he turned his face to the liquor corner. You understood his expression immediately: “I thought alcohol had no effect on vampires”.
“It doesn’t” he said while standing up and taking one of the bottles, “...but it does affect you.” and offered it in your direction. “Now it's your turn. Tell me your story”.
And so that night you cried the losses of your loved ones as never before… in company. Remmick listened to you attentively. Sure, he made a couple of jokes and sarcastic comments from now and then. But it was evident he was genuinely interested. When you talked about your fears when you turned immortal he did the unthinkable: dried your tears, followed up by many “I know, I know”, “It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault”, “It’s alright now”. You wondered if anyone ever consoled him that way, or if this way was a form of comforting himself too.
The truth was that, for the first time in over a century, you felt seen. The alcohol was a great conversation starter, you decided. You were immersed in your thoughts when the smallest sniff caught your attention. Was Remmick crying?
“Hey, are you okay?” He did not dare to look at you. “Remmick, it’s fine, I’m here” Oh, and you were. Whatever he was thinking, you're determined to console him.
When he finally turned at you, tears were silently falling over his softened face. “It’s just that I’ve been so alone.” he whispered. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you dare to get closer and closer, until the closeness became an embrace so strong. “I’m here now, I mean it.”
That morning the sun caught up with you talking, crying and laughing. You decided he should sleep in your room for the day, God knows when was the last time he slept comfortably. You stayed on the sofa and swore you're never leaving his side, not as long as he calls you his friend.
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