a/n: So this fic is kind of weird, but bear with me. I changed the names on purpose: to me, it didn't make sense for Shane to have the same name throughout the entirety of this fic, simply because I feel like he'd adapt to both the time period and the location. Likewise, I changed Ryan's name because I don't think that one would keep their name throughout their multiple incarnations. If you're ever confused as to who is who, please note that this fic is written in Shane's POV; he's the vampire, and he's always going to be looking for Ryan. In the first scene, Shane is Florian and Ryan is Opilio.
Second, there are many warnings for this fic. They are as follows: major character death, angst, drowning [nongraphic], descriptions of violence, blood, war, mention of disease [nongraphic], heartbreak, suicidal thoughts, mention of graphic suicide attempt, immortality, etc. There's also an nsfw scene towards the end. The warnings for that are: unsafe sex/unprotected sex, dirty talk, begging, daddy kink, blow jobs, rough sex, slight biting. Major thanks to @faequill for helping me with the Spanish and the sex scene! I don't know how to do the hover texts for translation, so please let me know how!
If I forgot a warning, please tell me and I will add it!
Lastly, the title is taken from Shakespeare's Hamlet. It's part of Hamlet's soliloquy.
I'm sorry if this isn't your cup of tea.
1453 - Byzantine Empire
Soldiers from all over the Roman Empire meet in Constantinople, because there are whispers, rumors of attack. Some say that it's from the East but no one is definite, and they can't be sure, because to lose a man to spying right now would be against their favor. They need all the manpower they can get, after all. It's their only asset in times like this.
"I've heard it's coming from the Ottomans," Opilio says, his boyish features gleaming in the darkness, honey eyes illuminated. The torches that Constantine's army brought shine bright at their meeting place, giving them much needed access to light. They don't have much time to plan and prepare because the Ottomans could come at any moment and darkness is time lost.
Florian sighs as the other soldiers murmur amongst themselves. While Florian is technically in charge of the unit, Opilio is the one who truly takes command. There's no smarter strategist, no wiser man, no better shot.
"Where did you hear that?" someone pipes up. Florian wonders the same thing. If Opilio infiltrated the enemy's ranks, he'd be considered a traitor no matter what, and that thought is enough to make Florian's heart clench in the most painful way. To think Opilio a traitor, well, he can't even fathom it. Opilio would never.
Florian hates himself for even entertaining the idea, for even letting it run through his mind. But they've been betrayed before, and it's something Florian will always remember.
"I heard it from one of the locals. They like to talk," Opilio says with a shrug. The murmuring gets louder and Florian is worried; too much noise could break their cover and expose them, forcing them into a battle they aren't prepared to win.
"We will fight, then," someone says, because Opilio's word is good enough. He's always the one to be trusted, after all, as he never hesitates to prove himself time and time again.
"Yes, we will. Everyone, gather your bows, arrows, and axes. Come back here once you're done so that we can discuss tactics," Florian commands, and the crowd disperses. He feels guilty, knowing that he's leading his men out to their deaths, but defending Constantinople is what they have been bred for. If there's even a chance, a tiny sliver of hope, well, he'll have to take it.
