1 comments/ 36280 views/ 24 favorites A Thousand Years Ch. 01 By: ordinaryjourney The ceremony was in procession. Rings of silver hung from the stone halls of the Gothic tower and the guests filed down the hall. They were a dark somber mass, in cloaks that trailed on the floor. The men were tall and pale, like gliding marble statues. The women were regal and tall as well, their lips dark red with sharp white teeth glimmering. They entered the banquet room, a round space of dreary gray, with stone gargoyles and bats set in the wall high above the guests. There were steps that rose to the throne, made out of crude white marble. Here sat the Count. The Count was a fearsome man, the ruler of Transylvania, and his eyes were dark slits, rising above a high nose and leering mouth. The most revealing of which were a pair of canines, bloodstained, inside his lips. He waved the guests in, a thirsty bat perched on his shoulder, its eyes fixed intently on the man, or monster, sitting next to the Count. The son of the Count stood out oddly from the rest of the vampires. His hair was platinum blonde, almost to the point of turning white, and fell down in a wild mane over his broad, pale shoulders. So had been the consequences of not drinking blood for years. The hunt was too cruel for him. His eyes were dark blue, though, and his face sculpted as tall and elegantly as his fathers, just lacking the meanness inside. All eyes were on him. The guests stood silently in the banquet room as the night fell upon them, and only the beams of the moon shed any light. In the middle of the room was a giant stone pit. Out of it, now, a fog began to rise, and a voice eerily sang, "Reincarnation." The sound of footsteps was heard as someone climbed up the stone ladder in the pit, and raised a pale hand into the air, long, pointy fingers facing the crowd. She rose to the top, a mistress of the night, raven hair falling to her hips as she turned to face the Count. She smiled, her teeth leering in the dark -- pointy, sharp, and blood-stained. Mel locked the door behind her stealthily and sneaked out into the night. The night air was chilly, and she wrapped her arms around her shoulder to keep warm. Where was she going? Anywhere to get away from her abusive step-mother. She had taken a year off from high school, having no money to attend the state university she was accepted to what with her father's alcoholic problems, and now, at 19, just wanted to start over. Find a job, some friends, and live in peace and quiet. Mel loved reading, dreaming that maybe someday she could be a poet. As Mel reached the town's borders, where the woods were, she thought she heard someone following her. Mel whipped around. Silence. She turned back uneasily to the tree branches, and kept walking. Suddenly, a squawking bird startled her. Mel looked to her left and almost screamed. A man had fallen onto the brambles in exhaustion. His pale face was illuminated by the moonlight. Tired, hungry eyes stared back at her. "Oh, what..." Mel wanted to run. So not wise to talk to strangers at night. "Help," The man's hair was scraggly, recently hacked, it seemed. His throat sounded scratchy. "Water?" Mel reached into her backpack. She handed the bottle to him. "Please...come here." She started to think he was just a perv, and cautiously withdrew her water bottle. "I need...warmth." He uttered. Something about his navy blue eyes pulled her forward. She inched forward. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, and pulled her face close, so close she could hear his ragged breathing. "Milk. I need milk." "Ok." Mel stifled a giggle as she told the man to wait. She'd have to pilfer from the farmer, but for some reason, the stranger seemed to need the energy. Finally, the man came out of the woods, and leaned against an oak, his cloak fluttering. He picked up the water bottle, and slowly washed away the dirt from many days of journey. As the dust and grime fell away, his handsome features were clear, the strong dark blue eyes, tall nose, and squared jaw. His hands were rough from prying apart branches as he traveled through the woods, escaping, always escaping his hunters. When Mel returned, he took the milk gratefully and drank, his eyes tracing over her curiously. She was delicate but beautiful, in a neglected sort of way. Her long tresses fell onto her lower back, and though tied up in a ponytail, shined glossily in the moonlight. Her eyes were brown, like the warmest chestnut, gentle and timid, eyes that understood pain. Right now, she was blushing at the stranger's glance, her slender fingers reaching up to brush her cheeks. Her teeth were straight and pearly, not pointy, at all. "You are unlike any sorceress." The man was entranced. Mel raised her eyebrows. Someone need escorting back to the loony bin? "Um...thanks." "What's your name, fairest?" "Melanie." "I'm Vladimir, the Second." "Ahh." Time to escape, Mel told herself. "Melanie, you seem...so innocent." The man spoke slowly. He flexed his shoulders and sat up straighter. Suddenly, he seemed tall and imposing, new-found vigor coursing through his veins. His eyes turned more intense, and the dark blue orbs pierced right into Mel's blinking lashes, unblinkingly. "Such a hidden gem." Mel didn't know what to say, but the warm heat creeping up through her body seemed to tell enough, her chest rising unevenly under Vladimir's glance. "I -- I was just going to leave," Mel knew she was in danger, of.... "You seem only a century old, just a bare maiden." Vladimir chuckled, his eyes mischievous. He stood up, sweeping his cloak behind him as he straightened. Mel backed up in fear as the man towered over her, his sculpted frame casting a shadow on her sweater. Yet she couldn't move as he leaned down to touch her chin with his wide palm, and locked eyes with her, daring her to fall into those stormy blue seas. But his gaze softened as it lowered over her neck, golden and slender, and then her bosom, soft and protected behind her sweater, territory yet known to no man. "Come with me." The words were a whisper, but as powerful as steel. Mel resisted, even as muscular arms held her close, but all she could see was an enveloping darkness. The air was filled with pitched squeals, like needles upon her ear, and suddenly, an army of bats swooped on them. They lifted Vladimir's cape, flying through the air in unison, with Mel clutching onto him breathlessly, watching in fear as the trees grew smaller beneath her, and cold night air burst into her lungs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She awoke in a stone cave. The walls echoed her scuffles as Mel lifted herself off the pine-coated ground, a bed, it seemed, assembled just for her. Under her lay a marble pillow, cold and regal, its edges carved in Latin: Aut vincere aut mori. Conquer or die. Panic rose in her heart. Why did she have to help him? That monster! He had no right to take her away. Yet, she was indeed running away from home... Someone came into the cave. Mel stiffened, but didn't turn. He walked up behind her and, like iron, held her shoulders. She saw a new man. Vladimir's hair had regained its original length, a glossy mane of white blond that flowed onto his shoulders, and his eyes were glowing blue, dark at the edges. He still wore the black cloak, under which a black robe shielded his muscular physique. He regarded Melanie with satisfaction. To his fancy, a light green gown now clothed her, matching her chestnut eyes, and a golden clasp at the bosom held her pert breasts tightly. Her hair was brushed and let loose splendidly under a braid, so the teasing brown waves framed her face. Vladimir couldn't resist placing both hands around her delicate waist. "Stop!" Mel squeaked. She hopped backwards out of his arms. "Melanie, dearest, come back here." Vladimir coaxed gently, both arms outstretched as she backed even further into the wall. He smiled, but Mel was repulsed at the two glistening teeth, pointing downwards like two V's. "What are you?" She hissed. "And what have you done with me?" "You've been unconscious. For so long. I had to change your tattered robes, that's all." Vladimir revealed a vulnerability Mel liked. "But I did see you...unintentionally." Mel's mouth gaped open. "I never realized you were a human. I almost...couldn't control myself. Vampires love human blood." Vladimir's teeth now seemed menacingly white. "Oh, no..." Mel stuttered, trying to think of an escape plan. "No, don't." Vladimir reached out and held her arms tight. "I -- I would never drink blood. I haven't, since my birthing ceremony. Blood is the sustenance for vampires only because it holds life. It is either to conquer life, for us, or to wither away of eternal coldness. But I have found the cure." Mel was ready to believe anything now. "It is milk." Vladimir smiled. The answer seemed so simple. "Milk is the life-giving substance for all animals; it is even more powerful than blood, for with blood comes death, but with milk, there is only new life. And that is why I have survived so long. My father knew not of my plans to secure milk from the cows near our kingdom, thinking I was an abnormality, with my hair and eyes, but I am the only one who can bear light, bear warmth, and bear human things...like love." Vladimir seemed to soften before Mel's sympathetic touch on his shoulder. "So, you won't kill me then?" Mel trembled. "I would never hurt you. Only I want to pleasure you, yes." Vladimir's glance had hardened. He encircled one arm around Mel's waist, and leaned down, his lips yearning for hers. They pressed tightly together, and Vladimir sought her tongue with his, as Mel clasped onto his shoulder. He kissed her passionately, a moth drawn to fire, courting the warm life that was his own opposite. His hands, masculine and rough, reached around her gown, tracing down the edge, then up over her bosom, unloosening the folds of the gown. His head bent down, closer, closer to her trembling buds... Mel breathed faster. Her nipples were hardening beneath his touch, but she was not ready yet for him. "Wait," She gasped. Reluctantly, he released her. She put distance between them, and Vladimir's eyes turned cloudy. He looked at her coldly, for an eternity it seemed, but just turned and stalked out the cave. Mel, oddly, almost felt disappointed at his leave. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The dark shapes flew out of the sky in the middle of the night, their favorite time for preying. The leading figure clung onto her hood, as the bats descended upon a mountain of quartz. She pulled back her cloak to reveal a head of raven locks and blood-stained teeth. It was the Vampress Vyeila herself, intent on retrieving her rightful husband, and servant, before the rise of the dawn. Vladimir was building a fire for Mel, who he knew would be cold during the night with nothing but pine leaves and his cloak to shield her. He almost enjoyed the warmth himself, especially with her sitting next to him, happily roasting some nuts over the fire. She had found a stray goat over the mountain ledge, and it thankfully produced milk that could feed Vladimir. But now, his icy core was calling out to him, to roam, to explore the night. He began to pace the cave restlessly. "What's wrong?" Mel lifted her glossy tresses over her shoulder and looked up at Vladimir, concern in her face. They'd gotten to know each other the past few days, and in general, he showed a surprising amount of knowledge and sympathy, for a vampire she supposed. He, instead, had grown enchanted with her looks, the warmth and innocence he'd never known from women at home. Especially when she smiled with her dimples. He had thought of touching her, making her mewl with pleasure... "Nothing." Vladimir snapped back to reality. "I'll be back." He needed to breathe in the night. Just a bit of darkness, that was all. Mel ate and drank some milk, as Vladimir left. She settled in to her scratchy bed, and wondered when they'd leave. Vladimir always seemed haunted by shadows, fearful of the night. He never let her sleep without guarding over her in the darkness. Vladimir jumped easily over the ledges, reaching a perch on the mountain that could see miles away. The night was cold, but fresh, and he breathed deeply, listening to the ancient rhythm of the stars. The rhythm of his ancestors, the beating of the night as they hunted out humans in the farm yards, the sleepy milk maids and fertile cattle boys, so calm yet so rich -- rich with the blood of life. Stop, Vladimir told himself, what barbaric traditions! Suddenly, a suffocating darkness fell upon him, and long fingers wrapped around his neck. Sharp teeth curved over his pale neck and a slithering voice was at his ear. "Vyeila," Vladimir's voice was menacing. "Leave right now." She ignored him and continued to wrap herself around him, readying herself for the bite. "Now!" Vladimir roared as he reared his body, bucking the vampress off like a fly. He flew at the dark shadows around him, hearing familiar voices but feeling fingers scraping at him, drawing blood. His mouth was open, and his teeth drawn like a sword, ready to bite not for pleasure, but for the lethal kill. He did his best to fend off the attackers with his hands, his nails lengthening into razorlike weapons. But, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, a large hulking shadow, stealing away from the pack, down, down towards the cave...the vulnerable cave where Melanie lay sleeping... The embers of the fire had died and Mel had began to float lightly on the wings of sleep when hands suddenly clasped her neck. Thinking it was Vlad, she giggled. An icy breath now fell on her forehead, then down, below her ears, onto her neck, its dewy skin glowing in the night. A pair of fangs, yellow and crusted with blood, snapped into their maximum, ready to bite down and draw the red, red juices from her. "Gorv, I warned my father not to send you." Vladimir's thundering anger filled the cave. Mel jumped. "You will not touch the girl. Unless you want to suffer hell itself. And you know what I can do. What my mother's bloodline can do." The bulky vampire sniffed at Mel, pausing, just as Vladimir flew up behind him, knocking the brute onto his back and shielding Mel with his cloak. "Light a fire," Vladimir whispered to her. Obediently, she started rubbing the rocks together. Vladimir's back shielded her. "Gorv, get that conniving tramp. That vampire-seducer. She's after the kingdom. She wants to be Queen of Transylvania!" Vyeila's wicked voice entered the cave. Gorv charged head-on into Vladimir and knocked him to the ground. He snarled as he aimed for Vladimir's neck, his fangs landing on his shoulder instead, the puncture drawing fresh blood from the latter. Vladimir twisted Gorv's arm into pain, but Vyeila rushed forth and pushed Gorv aside. She eagerly lapped at her fiance's blood, entrapping him like a prize, as the energy drained from his body. "Watch out!" Mel suddenly leaped out from under the cloak, throwing an ember onto the pile of dried leaves and ashes. The fire leaped up into the air, warm flames flickering and growing, crackling like a beast, bright yellow filling the cave. She rushed forward and threw a burning stick onto Vyeila's cloak, the material quickly catching fire. Vyeila yelped as the cloak burned her skin, and cast it off, slithering away out of the cave, into the night, with Gorv's pained yells behind her. All that was left was a marble brooch, encarved with the same Latin as the pillow. Vladimir pushed himself up from the ground, his face pale, but determined. He leaned forward and picked up a burning stick. Like a tiny swab, he dabbed it over the bite marks in his shoulder, wincing as the heat burned his skin, but then quickly threw it off, the marks now covered with a small seared circle. He picked up the pitcher of milk in the corner and bent over it, drinking thirstily. Then he collapsed on the ground, his eyes closed as Vyeila's venom coursed through his veins. "Melanie," He cried out as the pain shook him. Vyeila had perfected the art of venom, being the evil woman she was. He would be in pain for a while. "Vladimir, I'm right here." Melanie suddenly felt panic for the man before her. She lifted his head gingerly onto her lap, and stroked his hands with her own, wishing to ease his pain. His eyes squeezed tighter as beads of sweat formed on his head. Mel dabbed her gown in a pool of water and smoothed the fabric over him. She then leaned down and gently kissed his forehead. Too feverish to tell, Vladimir just called "Melanie...Melanie.." again before he fell into the nightmares of the poison's doing. Vladimir awoke to see Mel pouring some milk for him, and for herself too. She had led the goat into the cave, and it was chomping on grass in the corner. She had also placed the marble brooch next to her pillow, and upon seeing Vyeila's object, Vladimir's eyes narrowed in fury. He walked over to the brooch and smashed it furiously. "What's that?" Mel handed him a bowl of milk. "My engagement present you could say." Mel was silent. "Oh. Good for you." Vladimir sensed her jealousy, and pounded the brooch even harder. It was undented. The royal tie would not break. "So, what will you do now?" Mel turned to Vlad, her eyes pleading. "Go back to Transylvania? I mean, that's what you're supposed to do." "I won't go back while they force me to wed Vyeila. I would rather spend another thousand years alone then be with her. But, with you, I could spend eternity." Vladimir's eyes turned back to Mel, his gaze drifting over her possessively, "A thousand years?" Mel echoed emptily. "A thousand years, alone. Have you never..?" "Of course I have. But never meant it. Only when ritual dictated. And never did I find that warmth, that fire radiating from your eyes." "I...well, I might as well tell you. I haven't, at all." Mel finished lamely, her hands draped at her sides. "But I don't care." She added defiantly. Vladimir smirked. "I know." Vladimir answered calmly, to her chagrin. "I knew also, when I first saw you, we were destined. You saved my life, when I had lost all energy, and hope, from escaping consummation with Vyeila, and now I am forever your protector. Let me protect you, from your past and your pain that you left." "How did you know?" Mel murmured. "You told me, with your eyes, so lovely, so tortured." Vladimir sighed. "Perhaps no one appreciated you, like me. Or perhaps I just need you, and you -- need me." He drew out the last words, and Mel sucked in her breath. She silently waited as he drew nearer, his hands reaching around her waist, drawing her close to his heart, beating and warm, or, was it, cold. She leaned in, her hair against his chest, opening his robe, to rest her warm head there. He caressed down her mahogany waves and over her shoulder, under, under again over her waist, then onto her aching breasts. Her thumping heart. Finally, she let him reach under the folds of her gown and pry the material away, unraveling the wrap, so it fell down over her shoulders, and her bare chest was exposed, her nipples perking quickly in the cold air. Mel leaned against Vlad, the pulsing of her buds on his own marbled chest, and he groaned at the warm impact. Controlling himself no longer, he bent her down, onto the pine, as he lowered his mouth to her reaching lips. They tangled and kissed, as she wrapped her arms around his bare back. But he moved his mouth away, over her neck, trailing kisses and licks over the golden skin, reaching for her nipples. He teased them wantonly, his tongue flicking the tip, as Mel arched her back and purred under his touch. Kneading her mounds with one hand, the other reached down below her gown, seeking her pleasure point, the point of no return. He slipped his fingers over her entrance, feeling only a sparse protection of curls in front. She whimpered as he stroked his teasing digits back and forth, kissing her neck intensely as he did so. A Thousand Years Ch. 01 Mel reached over his robe to caress the dormant monster, its height rising as she rubbed it through the robe. Vladimir let out a sigh, and pressed his body yet closer to her flushed breasts, as his fingers began to reach for the sweet gate within her. "Wait." Mel suddenly stopped. Vladimir pulled away reluctantly. "I -- I don't think you should go that far, yet." Mel stated. "Melanie, temptress, you are killing me," Vladimir raised his head with a snarl almost, and flung his cloak over Mel's uncovered breasts. He turned his head away sulkily, and tried to hide the bulge, hardening under his robe. "I just want to know what you intend to do with me," Mel said softly. "Will I become your mistress, or slave, or what? I know it can never be your wife." "Melanie," Vladimir said her name with a trace of sadness, "I can't marry without undergoing the ritual, without becoming a bloodthirsty king like my father." "So, then, what, will you stay with me...forever?" Mel's voice was bittersweet. "I will, if I can," Vladimir suddenly reached for her shoulders, looking deep at her. He was silent for a while, thinking. His eyes fell as realization dawned. "But you will forever be my princess, a fairytale I guard and love, not my deadly bride. I'll stay by your side but, you can never belong to me in flesh. I must not let you carry my cursed seed." "You mean, we can never be intimate." Mel suddenly realized. "Yes; it's good you stopped me." Vlad laughed bitterly. "A vampire child will only cause you pain, beautiful one. I am a wretched, wretched man." He rose coldly, then, and strode to the front of the cave, to stand guard as darkness fell over the land. Mel suddenly understood the extent of his love for her. And knew their future lay in her hands alone, no longer fearing he'd leave. She had one goal now: Vladimir, somehow. A Thousand Years Ch. 02 Months passed by as Mel and Vladimir traveled over the mountains of Transylvania, always avoiding the clutches of Vyeila and the Count. They had stopped in a clearing in the woods days before, and set up a tent-like canopy with whatever wide leaves and foliage they could find. Now they lay underneath, Mel eating an apple, and Vladimir silently reciting Latin in his head, trying to remember, that one passage in the Rule Book, that one loophole... "Today's a special day," Mel turned to Vlad, who nodded absentmindedly. She tossed the apple, and reached for his locks, combing her fingers through his hair gently, as she leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "I'm turning twenty. Do you have a present?" Vladimir flipped over on his side, and put both arms around her. "Anything you want." "I want you." Mel smiled serenely, as she nuzzled him with her soft hair and warm lips. Vladimir turned away. He couldn't let anything happen. "Or maybe I need to convince you." She pulled his robe open roughly, and with her arms wrapped around his neck, holding his breath close to her, began to lick and nibble his chest. Then she leaned down to bite at his nipples teasingly, while her hand slipped ever-so-quietly down his robe, pushing apart the bottom part to reach for the heavy object of her desire. Vladimir shuddered as she fit both hands around his member, her warmth seeming to flood his icy veins, and felt the blood in his body, the bloodline of the royal Vampirics, run and rise down below. His inner lust awakening, Vladimir pulled aside Melanie's slip. He kissed and nudged at her breasts urgently, feeling the hard rosy buds stiffen under his tongue. Melanie was panting and lowered her head now to reach Vladimir's tip. She licked him with inexperience, her tongue feeling like little flicks of fire over him, and Vladimir groaned. He wanted to be in her so bad, to feel her enclosed in his arms, filled to the brim with his hardened body, moaning his name. But he couldn't. So he watched painfully as she continued to stroke and lap at his manhood, her tongue now growing surer, rougher around his throbbing veins. Wanting him to utter ecstasy, Mel now puckered her lips as she pushed his sheath hard into her mouth, feeling him cold and hard as stone on her burning lips. She took him all in, her warm mouth running over him. "Ahh..." Vladimir threw his head back, reaching for Melanie's back, stroking his fingers restlessly over her smooth, golden skin, wanting to feel the sun, the life in her next to him. She fondled the two lumps in his sac with her nimble fingers, as her mouth licked him from base to tip in one long, heated stroke. "Mm.." She hummed over his member as Vladimir continued to pinch her nipples and rub her mounds fervently, his eyes closed and mouth open in hunger. Her moans vibrated his member, and Vladimir thrust up harder against her. Now, she worked her tongue furiously, lapping all around his marbled tower as it throbbed inside her mouth needily. She fondled his balls roughly and stroked the light curls surrounding his member, teasing them her fingernails. "Ahh, Melanie...your mouth...damn it," Vladimir's lips curled back as his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. His fangs were now fully bared, the white points shining like moonbeams. "Mmh...huh..yes," Vladimir thrust forward harder, feeling his blood boiling and Melanie's soft tongue caressing him to a frenzy. When she again took him deep, he felt the stirrings of an explosion, and groaned under his breath. His member was tightly built up, and so hard with need. The pain and pleasure swirled higher, her throat vibrating around him, and Vladimir knew it was coming. So tight. He let forth a guttural roar as he hit his peak, his pole exploding within her mouth and hot liquid shot out in bursts, as he pushed his lips a last few times to max out the pleasure of his seed rushing out. "Mmph," Mel turned away as the liquid dribbled out, and wiped her mouth with some fabric. Vladimir lay looking at her, his eyes shining brightly, and suddenly pulled her down to him. He kissed her ears, her nose, her lips, all over her face and possessively wrapped her up in his arms, his strong muscles bounding her tightly to him, heart against heart, and cheek on cheek. He smoothed her hair back, and reached down over the magnolia slip she wore now. His hands lovingly caressed her hips. She leaned back against him, lifting her arms up around his shoulders, tongue lifting up to flick his chin. He lifted the slip, his hard, pale palms reaching under, traveling into the lace covering her moist entrance. He rubbed his fingers across the lips, poking them in, testing her warm waters. She mewed at him, her head arching back against his rough shoulder, her sienna waves cresting over his cut, lucid chest. Mel held glazed to those magical navy eyes, seeing a billion stars reflected in their brilliant depths. Vladimir continued to stroke her entrance down below, now letting his fingers pierce her deeper, exploring her tender flesh. They rubbed on her sensitive walls, and Mel panted onto Vlad's chest. "Oh Vladimir, please..." Mel felt tension building. He pushed his digits in further, rubbing them within her, rocking her tunnel and onto her nub. She moaned and beat on his chest, pushing him faster, and so he increased his speed, racing to draw circles in her depths, feeling the warm juices start to seep. Her body was wracked with pleasurable vibes, and unknowingly, she opened her legs further, wanting more of him, all of him. She reached for Vladimir's hardening staff, its tiny veins coming to life beneath her warm hands, but he pulled back suddenly. "No, don't...let me." Vladimir pinned her arms down with his chest, and continued to work her with his fingers. Mel ached for the bigger part of him, and writhed beneath him, her sweat dripping onto his ivory chest. He now lowered his head, and cautiously, sheathing his teeth, allowed his tongue to dart out like a silver serpent, reaching for her sweet mound. His silver mane tickled at her thighs, the wild and fine hair glowing in the moonlight. He lapped at her clit with fury, his tongue like an icy fire over her, and then went further into her opening, his tongue now pushing at her walls, rolling around within her. His fingers pushed at her nub incessantly, as he urged her on. "Vladimir!" Melanie was twitching from need. "I need you...faster. Aughh." Vladimir continued to worm his tongue within her as his fingers worked faster, his breath sending vibrations through her walls. Melanie closed her eyes as the pleasure increased, so ecstatic with little throbs of pain, of longing. He continued to rub her clit, and she felt her walls contract in pleasure, the nerves firing in her body. She felt his tongue roughly scrape her walls, and calling out his name, erupted for him, sweet rivers flowing beneath her. The joy continued as she shuddered again, a smaller wave riding through her. Finally, she breathed deeply, as Vladimir released her. Mel lay flushed, her face reddened with excitement, as she slowly covered herself with a blanket. Her lover had walked out of the tent, and reappeared with some water, for them to drink. They both were entranced, as if each other were so beautiful they didn't want to stop looking. "I wish --" Mel stopped, taking a sip of water. Vladimir raised his eyebrows. "Well, I wish we had gone. Further." He was silent. They both knew the answer. As the crickets started chirping, and night grew darker, he lay down next to her, and spread the cloak over them both, as his arms encircled her, drawing her closer to his strong, masculine frame. He held her there, head resting on his shoulders, as she fell into sleep. He was sleepless, however, and with both arms cradling Melanie tight, watched her gentle face smile as she fell into tranquil dreams. "No, that can't be." The Count glared at Vyeila, as she showed him the line in the Rule Book. His eyes narrowed. "My son, not a Vampiric? Vir sumo suus regnum. That is a lie. He can never wed another without cursing her for eternity." Vyeila frowned. "The hero chooses his kingdom. How archaic." She drawled. Her fingers ran over the Rule Book. "But there is a way to bring him back." "My dear Vyeila, I can always count on you." The Count's teeth bared in an evil grin. "What is it, dark one?" "A hero he is, not so?" Vyeila cackled. "Well then. Let him rescue...me." She flipped open the Rule Book and pointed out a Latin line engraved with a grotesque drawing. It appeared to be a pit with a woman, and venomous snakes, inside. The Count smiled. He raised his hand, and signaled, for the Ceremony Master. Vladimir knew they were coming. He could scent their bloodstained fangs. He lifted Melanie from her sleeping place in the forest, and summoned the bats, the creatures of night that would carry him to another hiding place, as always, running and hiding. They landed on a sheltered farm, next to the shed where the goats were kept. For now, it'd have to do. Vladimir lifted Mel into the hay loft above the pigs and settled in next to her himself. They were snuggled together, asleep. The bright morning light pierced through the shed, and voices drew closer as someone opened the door to enter. Vladimir lifted his head cautiously and saw two farmers entering, carrying pig slop. "Did you hear what's going on in the Kingdom?" One whispered to the other. "Of course. Who didn't?" The other scoffed. "You mean, about the foreign Vyeila's wedding?" Vladimir listened closer. "You idiot," the other farmer pushed him. "How can she have a wedding if she's dead? The Count has already sentenced her to the Serpent's Sacrifice tomorrow at midnight. For her failure to find the Prince. What good is she if the Prince is not here?" Vladimir narrowed his eyes, willing himself not to care. But he couldn't. "She will be fed alive to the snakes, the venom masters that she apprenticed herself to. Oh, the irony." "Oh," the slow farmer chuckled after two minutes. "I get it." Vladimir wrinkled his brow in frustration. Vyeila was an evil woman, but death? Did anyone really deserve death? "So, uh, she's dead for sure?" The farmer rubbed his head. "Of course," the other retorted. "Unless, of course, someone kills the snakes before they kill her. She's dead meat." The two farmers shuddered at the thought and left. Vladimir looked over at Melanie, who was still sleeping sweetly, her chestnut locks blending into the hay loft, her nose pressed against the straw. Leaning down, he lifted stray strands of hair out of her face, and kissed her long lashes, his heart melting at how she looked like the princesses of books he'd read when he was younger. He knew he'd never find a golden, innocent maiden to love, only the cruel, bloodthirsty vampresses of his kingdom. But now he had. And she was so adorable. The way her face blushed and panted with pleasure as he touched her. And how snugly she fit into his arms, her big brown eyes so soft, so warm up against his cold blue orbs, giving him life. He wouldn't wake her. It would only make her upset. He'd have to go that night, and settle the matter, once and for all, with his father, his Kingdom, his kind. To stop the foolishness with Vyeila. Then he'd return, and she'd still be here, safe. They wouldn't find her, perfect. Vladimir lifted himself from the loft, and took one last glance at his sleeping beauty. Maybe, once it was settled, she would finally be his. His for a thousand years. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *End Note: If you would like to continue this series using any of my characters, or titles, feel free to. I'm stopping here. Tired. If you do a part 3 or more, title it "A Thousand Years Ch.?" Thanks. Look forward to reading. A Thousand Years Ch. 03 The patrons of the undead filed down the ancient stone halls, their cloaks sweeping silently over the cold floors. They were a somber mass, bringing in a rush of cold air as they opened the great Gothic door to the ceremony chamber. It was nearing twelve, and the ovals in the walls let in slants of moonlight, illuminating the pale face of the Count, and the tinged fangs he leered through. "It is time, my dear friends, guests, and...spectators, to begin." The Count's face was expressionless as he appraised the crowd through dark slits, turning his head to the walls, as if waiting for someone. The guests sat down on the hard stone of the stadium, including, amongst them, the Duke of Ostarbreil, a silent, thoughtful young man, a foreign visitor from the valley lands outside the mountains of Transylvania. He was awarded the privilege of sitting to the Count's left. He watched as the Count turned to his right to talk to a hulking mass in a dark cloak, a shape that could only be Gorv's. Now a shaking began in the middle of the chamber, as the stone panels began to shift open, and a barricaded stone pit rose out of the depths of the ground. A hissing sound, at once soft, began to grow in pitch and volume, filtering out of the pit. The Duke peered further and saw, with horror, the long poisonous serpents that struggled in an amazon green mass on the pit's floor. "Please, my dear, have patience." The Count whispered in a soft, menacing tone to a figure behind him, and when the Duke turned, he saw long black hair and a dark cloak engraved V. The ashy face of Vyeila was fixed on the door to the chamber, not even the venomous pit she'd soon be in. "I have no worries." Vyeila lied through her teeth as she addressed the Count. "He...will...come." The Duke couldn't make out the exact words as the two whispered, but he knew something was wrong. "Now," The voice of the Count suddenly thundered through the tense chamber. "We must carry out, the Serpent's Sacrifice!" Two short, brute vampires rushed forward to light the torches around the stone pit, a crackling glow now surrounding the vessel of snakes. The soft murmurs of the room died down into silence, as Vyeila stepped forward, in wooden motion, onto the stone floor, seeming to glide towards the venomous pit. "It is, with regret, that Vyeila of the Eastland, one of the bloodline Sverpentes, must be sacrificed today." The Count's tone was even and emotionless. "My son, the royal and rightful heir of the Vampirics, has disappeared, and the duty of his bride has not been fulfilled. Thus, Vyeila must die." Vyeila had now reached the pit and she lifted both sides of her cloak, so the long black sleeves gave to her figure a striking line of grand darkness. Her raven hair shielded her face from the crowd, which now began to turn to one another, fearful of watching what was to occur. Vyeila lifted one foot, and then another, as she stepped into the pit, her arms raised the entire time, and her dark red lips the only recognizable part of her face. The snakes began to seethe with excitement, and the Duke willed himself to turn away as they entangled over Vyeila's arms and legs. In morbid curiosity, he turned back as she suddenly gave out a shriek of the most barbaric depth, in a language that only the serpents could understand, the whole mass of venom now seeming to become one. Then he saw as a huge, mauve-spotted black snake, the largest one of all, reared its head, positioned just above Vyeila's neck, as her dark eyes suddenly filled with fear, realizing, perhaps, that it might be too late to save herself. And then the doors burst open. The son of the Count rushed forward, the crowd's faces turning immediately to the long silver mane that surged behind him as he sprinted towards the pit, his navy blue eyes glowing in the firelight of the torches. "Vladimir," The Count uttered his son's name with a gentle sneer, regarding the entrant like a hunter whose rabbit has just landed in the trap. The Duke's light green eyes widened in recognition as he saw Vladimir. This was the man he'd met on a forest hunting trip he'd taken to Transylvania several years ago, a stranger who'd helped him out of the brambles he'd lost his way in, chasing after a stag. "Vladimir!" Vyeila's voice was now a high-pitched, banshee-like sound, as the snake hissed in her ear. He reached the edge of the pit, and with one hand, quickly pulled one of the torches out of their holding, and wielding the fiery weapon, advanced into the pit. His fingers now extended their long nails, and he sliced the snake on Vyeila's shoulder in half, as Vyeila, realizing her plot had worked to lure forth Vlad, quickly tossed the snakes off herself as best she could. She leaped over the edge of the pit. The snakes surged onto Vladimir, as the blood from their mate tainted his hand, and he fought them off bravely, scorching the fire towards their open mouths. The speed and strength of a Vampiric now became apparent to the crowd, as Vladimir, his royal bloodline surging within him, doubled his effort and flung all snakes off himself, leaving masses of bloodied serpents in the pit as he climbed out. Vladimir faced the crowd. Vyeila was now positioned next to the Count, a satisfied smile on her leering face and her raven locks stained with snakeblood. Vladimir's intuition was immediate. He glanced with disdain at the manipulative, dishonest Vyeila, but focused his attention on his father, the cold Count who now waved a hand to silence the crowd. "Father," Vladimir's tone was ironic as he approached the throne. "You have all been waiting for me, I see." He laughed bitterly, as he strode forth, his robe bloodied and his hair disheveled. "I hope I haven't disappointed any of you. I hope I put on a good show!" His voice suddenly burst in anger. "Ah, my son," The Count kept his voice cool, "I am very...pleased, to see you back. Vyeila is too, as you can tell. Who knew that such a tragic day could turn out in such pleasant surprise?" His lips barely lifted into a smile. Vladimir stopped right in front of his father. He recognized the Duke, but didn't say a word. "Yes, well, Vyeila is safe now, isn't she?" Vladimir mocked a bow to the dark vampress, whose fingers curled ever so menacingly on the shoulders of the Count. Vlad was aware what he had to do now. It was time, yes, finally time. "And you have all seen what you came for today, a show of tradition, a Vampiric ceremony. Which is now, officially, over." He panned the room, left to right, his eyes resting on the masses of vampires in dark cloaks, their onyx hair barely lit up by moonlight. "Truly, the end has come to this falsehood. I, will succumb to this kingdom no longer. No more will I live under this Vampiric oppression. As of today, I announce the end of my engagement to Vyeila. For you see," Vladimir was now the one smiling, turning to face the Count, "I've found the girl, my one and only love." Vyeila's face clouded over as she became livid with anger. The Count was also taken aback, his shocked face silent. The Duke, however, noted the sincerity in Vladimir's face, seeing that only true emotion could bring such depth to one who had learned to reveal no feelings for centuries. "No, no! You gullible fool!" Vyeila screeched. She was about to leap from her place next to the Count, but she checked herself. She turned to look at Gorv, a question mark in her eyes. He nodded yes, and suddenly, she broke out into a raucous laugh. The Count remained motionless, with a curt tap of his fingers signaling that Vyeila could carry out whatever dastardly plan she'd now concocted. "Well, then, Vladimir," Vyeila sauntered forward until she stood face to face with the tall vampire. "How would you feel if your love was no longer, hmm...available? Would you still be so quick to end our engagement if you knew she was no longer in that, barn?" The last word struck Vladimir like an arrow. Vlad could feel his stomach sinking, dark fears filling him. "What have you done?" He looked at Gorv, whose mouth cracked into a grotesque grin. "Vyeila. You..will pay." Vladimir's voice shook with anger. "Let's just say, my dear betrothed," Vyeila lifted a hand to place on Vlad's shoulder, but he flinched away instinctively. "That you will be needing...human services no longer." The crowd gasped. A human? So that was Vladimir's downfall, a royal Vampiric, falling for a human girl. It was unthinkable. "I will ask you only one more time." Vladimir's face fixed in a hard line. "What, have, you done with Melanie?" "Oh, she's not dead, my darling Vladimir," Vyeila purred evilly, "Yes, you will find out the truth. When the time is right. Unless you anger me. Then you may never find out." Vyeila broke into a dark laugh again. "Do as you please...my dearrr." Her voice slithered. "Now," the Count rose from his throne, and signaled for the whole crowd to rise as well. "We've had enough talk for today. Quite a spectacle. For all who've been in attendance, I think you've seen the same as I have: a ceremony rendered unnecessary by the return of my son. And so we retire. Until the next ceremony, a more...happy one perhaps. Then, the marriage will occur." The Count smiled serenely, subtly powerful, and, with Gorv and Vyeila by his side, led them out of the chamber, the crowd following. The Duke slipped towards the back of the crowd, where Vladimir was, still facing his father's throne in silence. The crowd dared not talk to the disgraced son -- a human? Unbelievable. They hurried after the Count, who, after all, was still on the throne. Besides, the marriage ceremony was to occur soon, and it would render Vlad's previous speech of betrayal utterly erased. "My friend," the Duke's voice was low as he and Vlad quietly walked out of the empty room. "I had no idea you were the Count's son. It is, with regret, that I find us reconvening in such circumstance. But, please, if there's anything I can do to help you, let me know." "My good friend, I appreciate your kind words." Vladimir turned towards the auburned-hair Duke slowly, fatigue on his face. "But what can I do? You, too, have heard Vyeila's blackmail. I am just one man, my father an entire empire. A dynasty of cold, dark power. What will have I now? The question of freedom isn't even on my mind anymore, now that Melanie's safety comes into play. If what it takes to save her is my marriage, then I must comply." He lowered his downcast face. The Duke thought silently for a bit. "But," The Duke's pale face glinted with hope in the light from the windows. He whispered, "But what if, I could find out for you? Yes, I could discover the secret from Vyeila's closest guards, and then, you will leave with Melanie, from this land forever." He offered his help without conditions, a gentleman of fine breeding. Vladimir nodded in response, careful to keep his excitement contained. "I owe you a great deal, Lorenze," Vladimir stated nobly. "You saved my life." Duke Lorenze recalled. "I'm only doing the same, for your future wife." The Duke shrugged suggestively, but Vladimir felt a bitter note inside as he recalled that Melanie could never, never be his wife. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vladimir paced back and forth in his royal bedroom, restless after returning from the hunt the Count had just held to celebrate the forthcoming marriage ritual in three days, that of Vyeila and the manipulated Vladimir. Melanie had filled his head the whole time...Melanie who he'd kissed gently just before leaving her (how could he have been so naïve to leave!), Melanie who had snuggled softly into his arms after he'd given her the only pleasure he could, without taking her maidenhood. Ah, if only he could fill her with his desire, entirely, fully. But...if she had a vampire child, she would be bound into his cruel dynasty, forced to undergo the barbaric rituals of his kind, and doomed to suffer forever. He could only think about Melanie, even amidst the clashing of goblets of wine as the vampires drank to prepare for a hunt in the mountains, for food, for blood. He shuddered, thankful that the Duke had feigned a headache and asked that Vladimir accompany him back to the palace for some human food. Though the Duke was a human, he was an exception. His royal family had financed the Count's earliest attempts to gain power, successful attempts that now rendered the two families like kin. A knock on the door interrupted Vlad's thoughts. He opened it, and Duke Lorenze slid in, closing the door firmly behind him. "Any word yet?" Vladimir's eyes were anxious. "Yes," The Duke muttered under his breath. "She has been locked in the potions room, where Vyeila practices her dark, barbaric arts." Vladimir's hands grasped onto the table in suspense. "Is she still alive?" Vlad's voice was steely, promising revenge if she wasn't. "Yes, yes thankfully." Lorenze continued in a low tone. "But she is not well. From the conversation I overheard, hidden in the sculpture of King Vampiric in the hallway, Gorv told Vyeila that Melanie was beginning to hallucinate from food deprivation. They don't give her anything to eat you know, except the bare minimum to stay alive. And they have her chained up in there. The only thing I haven't figured out is where the potions room is." Hearing this, Vladimir's eyes lit with fury, and he stalked over the door, his hands shaking with anger. He twisted the knob, wishing it were Gorv's neck instead. "I know where the room is," Vlad told the Duke over his shoulder. "And trust me, you don't want to be there when I deal with the perpetrators." He flung the door open, and left. The Duke hurried after. Outside the potions room, Vladimir told the Duke to step back. He kicked the door and it shook from his powerful force. But it didn't open. Then, he lifted his hands, his anger reaching boiling point, and the royal blood of the Vampirics surged within him, so that he appeared to glow with energy. He rushed forward, his whole body bearing down on the door, which finally broke down under his strength. Both Vlad and the Duke rushed into the room. Melanie was tied, in chains, to a post against the wall, her arms bent behind her, and her mouth covered by cloth to muffle any cries for help. A guarding serpent, dark green with yellow spottings, coiled at her feet, to keep intruders away. Potions lined the wall and the room reeked of dust. Melanie saw Vlad, and her almost lifeless eyes lifted to regard his tall, statuesque figure. Her long lashes lifted as those beloved golden-brown eyes widened in hope. "Melanie," Vlad's tone was gentle, soft, a direct contrast to the icy cold tone the Duke had heard at the Serpent's Sacrifice. "Melanie, I've regretted every moment I've spent away from you." He pulled a knife off a cabinet in the room, and proceeded to nail the snake to the ground, then began to untie Melanie, after pulling the cloth off her mouth. "Oh, Vladimir," Melanie sobbed as soon as the bonds were off, and she collapsed forward in Vlad's arms. He soothed her gently, stroking his palm over her soft brown tresses. Then he lifted her up, into his arms, as she, still weak from malnourishment, rested against his shoulders. Carrying her out of the room, Vladimir nodded at the Duke to close the potions door. And they left, with Vlad finally placing Melanie back at his bedroom chambers. The Duke waited outside the closed doors, as Vlad settled Mel into the large, mahogany bed. She fell asleep almost immediately, her pale face resting on the luxurious pillows and soft-feathered sheets covering her. Vlad quietly exited the room, where the Duke stood outside. "Lorenze, I must thank you again," Vladimir extended his hand, and the Duke shook it firmly. "But what has just occurred must be known to no one. I plan to confer with Vyeila, and convince her that the marriage ritual is still to be completed. And then," Vladimir paused, a look of pain fleetingly crossing his face. "I must say goodbye to Melanie. For her own good." The Duke nodded. He didn't question his equal in understanding, knowing that Vlad must have his own wise plans in mind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vlad returned to his bedroom, as midnight fell again. He opened the door gingerly, not wanting to disturb Melanie, who was sleeping. He took off his robe and climbed onto the bed next to her, stretching himself out alongside her, content to watch her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as she breathed softly. Vlad then lay on his back, and thought of the dangers he'd put Melanie in. She hadn't asked for any of this, and he, foolish enough to fall for Vyeila's trap, had landed Mel in a lethal situation. The vampire prince turned to look at her again. Her slender nose just touched the down pillow (Vlad's room was the only with such soft trappings of comfort) as she exhaled and the moonlight barely lit up her face, pale from famine and fatigue. Her fingers curled around the edge of the mattress, as if she were afraid she would be snatched away at any moment. Poor Melanie...she'd certainly gotten the fright of her life. Vladimir leaned down to kiss the fluttering eyelids softly, feeling her light lashes tickle his chin. After sleeping for a few hours, it was still dark, but Mel stirred in the bed, and her eyes opened cautiously. Vlad had almost fallen asleep himself, and he awoke now when he heard her coughs. "Melanie, love, you're awake," He put an arm around her to help her sit up on the bed, and then poured her some water. He also showed her the delicacies he'd ordered made. She ate with zeal. "Vladimir," Mel murmured after she'd finished. "I thought I'd never see you again. I woke up in the barn and you were gone. Then Gorv entered, along with the two farmers we heard. It turns out they were in on the plot. Vyeila knew we were there the whole time, and sent the farmers to trap you. When Gorv took me into the potions room, I fought him with all my strength, but he still ended up binding me to the wall. Then Vyeila came and told me you'd saved her, and would marry her soon. Then.." Mel fought back the trembles stoicly. "Then, she brought in the snake. I..." Vlad's fingers clenched into a fist. "I'm sorry, Mel, dearest," Vladimir held her close to him, his fingers once again combing through her beige locks. He kissed her head, then turned her face to him. "I..I'm truly sorry. You must believe me." He leaned forward to kiss her, and their lips tangled as he bent her down into the bed, gently, tenderly. "Vlad, believe me, I do believe you," Mel reached up to stroke his forehead earnestly. "What happened to you was inexcusable," Vladimir leaned down again to kiss Mel's face, neck, his lips trailing sweepingly over her peach, warm skin. Having been out of the sun for so many days, Mel's pallid appearance also showed a lack of rosy color. Vladimir caressed her lovingly; even when she was tired, she looked so calm and adorable, so warm and enticing, unlike Vyeila and her blood-stained raven locks by far. "Mel, I won't ever forgive myself for your close brush with death." Vlad looked sincerely into her big brown eyes, his own blue orbs intense in meaning. She shook her head, wanting to assuage his guilt. "I know you were thinking about me the whole time," Melanie spoke the unknowing truth, her eyes gentle with forgiveness. Vlad wanted to speak no more. He pressed his face to hers, and their lips held in a tight embrace. He reached down to pull the edges of her slip off her moonlit shoulders, and trailed pecks over her soft dewy skin. He reached her nipples, and his tongue caressed its pink bud. She mewed against him, and her fingers reached up to grasp his platinum mane. He responded to her touch, and kissed all over her chest, rougher, hungrily. She pulled at his hair as he went downwards even further, and plied her slip open further. He was now at her curls below, and like before, planned to pleasure her to the fullest. His hands roamed over her milky thighs, and he gently curled his fingers around her legs, to brace himself for the deep enjoyment he was going to give her. A Thousand Years Ch. 03 "Oh, Vlad, don't." Mel suddenly interjected. She pulled him upwards so they were face to face. "Why can't we go all the way? You must know. I love you so." Vlad had to shift himself out of her arms. "Melanie," His voice was patient but firm. He held her arms away from him. "Melanie, you know that I can't do that to you. To have your first time be with a vampire, a prince of a cursed bloodline, that would be too cruel. You don't deserve such pain." He was more yielding now, enclosing her in his arms so that her tawny head rested against his broad shoulders. "I want to give you a choice." He pulled back to look her in the eyes again. Her innocent, soft brown pupils gazed into his navy blue eyes in wonder. "I want you to know this. I love you now, more than anything. I have never known such love. And it is only thus that I can let you leave. When we first met, I found you so entrancing and seeming so lost that I thought I could take you to a better land. Also, I admit, I wanted to know you, to convince you of our destiny together. But now, after all that's happened, I can't, in good conscience, make you stay. If you want, I will take you back to your lands tomorrow, at the first light of dawn." He stopped, his voice infused with anxiety, as he looked at Mel's wandering eyes. If she did leave, he'd be devastated, doomed to a fate with Vyeila -- the dark lock on his future. But at least he'd know Melanie was safe. "Vladimir," Mel's clear voice pulled Vladimir back from his pained thoughts. "You do love me." Her voice was true and she enunciated the words, as they carried such significance to her. "And I love you as much, if not more." She couldn't resist as he interrupted to kiss her, and they tangled together on the bed until he lay, panting on top of her, as she put her arms around his neck and gazed up at him. "But you are right. I have had a terrifying experience with Vyeila these past few days. And in all honesty, must ponder over my decision. Let's not decide until three days later," Mel said. Vlad nodded, almost relieved that she'd be staying at least longer. But he'd have to be careful the next few days. Vyeila must never strike again. Their conversation completed, Vlad's desire for Mel overtook him, as she gazed up at him. He tilted down again, kissing along the length of Melanie's soft, warm skin, her rounded breasts fitting perfectly into his hands. She let her fingers trail languidly down his back as he stroked her with more intensity, his hand now shaping itself around the curve of her hips. His mouth was on her skin, gently licking and biting as he moved down her body. When he reached the precious entrance, with a protection of curls, he sheathed his two sharp teeth backwards and leaned in to give her the full treatment. As she buckled under him, her head arched back, and her soft brown hair glistened in the moonlight, as her eyes closed in pleasure. Her fingers grasped onto what she could feel of his silver-blonde head, and she moaned his name as she reached her peak. Her lips opened, gasping in air, as the intense climax left her breathless. The feeling coursed through her body like icy electricity, as his hair still tickled at her thighs. His hand now smoothly glided up and over her legs, and Vladimir raised himself up further. He lifted himself, and left the bed to tidy up. When he returned, having drank some water, she was smiling at him, her pearly teeth as gentle as her soft face. "Oh, Mel, maybe you shouldn't leave." Vladimir playfully crouched down over her, trapping her underneath him. "I take it all back. You have to stay." His hands wrapped themselves in her hair, as he nuzzled her face lovingly. His arms fenced her in as he leaned forward to kiss her, again and again. She chuckled softly and smiled, her dimples killing him. Vlad paused, and taking a deep breath, he sighed. "Of course, that is impossible. You don't have to do anything. If you want to leave, it is entirely in my power to take you back home. As a matter of fact, it is my advisory opinion that you should do so. I want to see you, more than anything else, safe and sound. Away from Vyeila." Mel sighed as well. They both knew it would be a hard decision to make, but it was hers. Well, at least they still had a few more days. As sleep began to close in on Vlad, he kept an arm around Melanie's shoulders, and touched his lips to her head one more time, drawing her closer and tightly to him, before he fell into dreams. It was now she who cuddled up against him, and her sepia waves fanned over his marble chest. Melanie kept her fingers enclosed around Vlad's fists, and wondered, silently, if they'd ever have a moment like this again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Note: Feel free to continue or use these characters. A Thousand Years Ch. 04 Mel sat in the low eaves of the bedroom chamber, brushing her hair gently with a marble comb. She sat on the cold hard stone of the royal chair, with a mirror that Vladimir had ordered for her in front of her, its edges gilded with silver. She yawned droopily into the mirror. "Good morning," Vlad's soft, smooth voice entered the room as he approached Mel's side. "Did you sleep well?" "Of course, you were there, weren't you?" Mel smiled laughingly. She lifted a pale, round hand to smooth down the sides of her mahogany tresses, and Vlad stared at her, lost for a second in her vision, her image. Yes, he was there, it was last night, the most beautiful night; he would remember it forever. How they had lain in each others' arms after the pleasure from their activities washed over them, the night ebbing over his consciousness, but him wanting to keep it away forever. Vlad felt a constriction in his throat, but he knew the time had finally come to ask her the question. "Well, three days feels like the blink of an eye, doesn't it." He wondered to himself. "Your choice is made, I assume, by this point? Just let me know, Mel dearest, whatever it may be." He averted his eyes, the pain making him cringe in fear of the words that would escape her lips next. The room was silent for a second. "Yes," Melanie's voice was like a feather, but hit Vlad like a brick. Yes? Yes, she was leaving? Or yes, she had decided she wouldn't leave? "Whatever pleases you, my love," Vlad's voice tightened on the last word, but he meant it so that it couldn't help but choke through his coolly-controlled demeanor. "Oh, Vlad, I'm sorry." Mel turned away from him, her head down in front of the mirror, and her figure bent in apology. She couldn't look at him. "I'm so sorry. But I really can't stay anymore." The past three days, after Mel had escaped Vyeila's clutches, Vlad had had to take precautions every minute, every hour. She was transported to the Duke's residence in the Northern wing of the palace, where even Vyeila wouldn't dare intrude, as he was the royal guest of honor. Then, when dusk fell, Vladimir would bring Melanie back to his room, where she'd sleep. Yet, as usual, to Mel's frustration and Vlad's superior self-control, nothing had occurred for Mel of the nature of that most intimate act that Vlad would never let her undertake, at least not with a vampire prince. Vyeila had been furious, and Vlad's days were spent between two activities, keeping the royal court from suspecting him of being with Melanie and keeping himself from confronting Vyeila for the time she'd kept Mel locked up in the potions room. However, Melanie had seen the worry wear Vladimir down. He couldn't sleep well, for fear someone would burst into their chambers, and besides spending nights watching over Melanie, he spent the day conducting all methods of plans to keep her presence a hidden secret, safe from discovery. If this was to be the remainder of their days, then wouldn't it be better for Vlad too if Mel left? Mel had debated the matter endlessly in her brain, but upon hearing Vlad speak with Lorenze the third night, their voices hushed outside the chamber doors, she'd caught whiff of "safety" and "fight" and "risk it all." Vlad alone, Vlad against an army of vampires? No thanks. Mel finally decided she'd leave. With him standing so close to her right now, his sculpted figure casting a shadow on the floor, she was able to fight the lump rising in her throat. But once he had returned her to "her lands," what would happen then? Mel fought back the thoughts, and taking one deep breath before wiping away the tear smudges, she turned back to Vlad. "I"m too afraid." Mel looked straight at Vlad's navy blue eyes, not wanting him to think any part of her leaving had to do with his own troubles, for he'd deny them as soon as he felt any hint, he'd sacrifice any part of his own physical and mental health for her. Vlad nodded. His eyes seemed to gradually dim in the moonlight, and his head turned slightly to the side, away from Mel's face. "I understand." His voice was barely a whisper. Vlad didn't want Mel to see any part of the ensuing chaos that now raged within him, so he strode over to the window, the moonbeams illuminating his tall, lean form. There was no sound, only the chilly rustle of the curtains as a midnight breeze blew into the chamber. "I love you," Mel said inaudibly, only her lips moving, needing to form the words. She lifted her fingers to her lips, and gently blew a kiss towards Vlad's stoic back, his unaware figure. The imaginary move was such a pale shade of the warm caresses and burning kisses they'd shared in the dark of the night. It was almost as if such displays of love were a last salute to what could have been, what had consumed the hearts of both, until they decided the other was too good to suffer, too good to not be free. Thus, it was an act of self sacrifice to leave but a painful act nonetheless. They stayed, her sitting, him standing, until the first light of dawn broke, and it was time, finally, for the separation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vlad seated Melanie into the coach, Duke Lorenze on her right. He'd trusted his good friend with the journey, as flying was too dangerous with possible interception by Vyeila's minions likely along the way. The Duke's royal chariot would be safe from robbery or intrusion, and it would also be least suspicious to have Vlad participating in festivities at the palace while Mel left for safety. "Bye, Vladimir," Melanie said in an even tone. "Take care of yourself. Be good." She forced a smile, wanting him to think her the most selfish creature on Earth. "I'll take care of myself too." She waved him off, as he backed away from the carriage, his lips unable to move, and his face frozen in the same expression it had been in after she'd made her decision. His figure, though tall and strong, seemed suddenly fragile in the morning wind, and his silver-blonde hair, blown wildly about by the buffeting chill, reminded Mel oddly of falling rye, a ripe harvest that was withered by the cold winter wind. As the coach drove away, and Mel looked back out of the carriage, she saw Vladimir standing in the same spot, his feet frozen, and his face tired and defeated. He still didn't wave, or say a word, but his eyes were no longer looking at her or the cart, but rather seemed to gaze at a lost world beyond her view, until he disappeared into a tiny dot in the distance. "Here, Melanie, take these gloves, it's dreadfully chilly," Duke Lorenze mustered up some cheer, and handed Mel a pair of soft, warm gloves. "We'll be there soon. I'll let you know once we've crossed the border, and you won't have to worry so much." Mel smiled. If only she still had any strength left in her heart to worry for herself. No matter how she tried to focus on the snowy scenery outside the carriage window, her mind kept drawing back to one figure, framed by deadened trees and icy snow all around him, his wild platinum hair blowing about his ears, shielding his saddened, heartbroken face. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vladimir stormed through the dark gates in the night. His cloak whipped behind him as he left the palace grounds, charging into the forest, wild and untamed, that bordered the royal palace. His eyes were blinded by the stinging cold wind that tossed his mane back and forth, but he didn't care. All he wanted, needed right now was to give himself over to the cold, to numb himself by racing across the snow, his vampiric nature taking over his senses. He crashed into the trees, at high speed, as he flew up into the air, the shrieking sounds of a thousand needles grating against the night sky. It was in the middle of the forest, and he wanted to roar at the nothingness around him, to ask for some peace, something to sedate him from this pain. His heart pounded to the rhythym of her name. Crunch, deep imprints left on the snow as he landed -- Melanie. He took off again, circling the tree tops, whirling through the dark black vortex of tree canopies as the boughs snapped under his fists -- Melanie. The night air felt like silk against his skin as Vladimir glided past the frozen leaves, landing finally in a clearing where dead pine needles littered the ground. It was silent all around him, and he found himself, palms down on the ground, his head lowered and his silver mane covering his face. Melanie -- she was safe. She was gone. That should be all that mattered. His fists clenched. That was what he would need to tell himself now. It was all over. His face turned back towards the palace. He had never been able to escape his fate, try as he had, how he'd tried! It was over now. Vlad lifted himself from the ground in one smooth motion, and his silent footsteps took him back to the gate, where he would willingly lock himself back to that dark prison, and the raven-haired mistress waiting for him within. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Melanie had returned to her hometown, and, with her savings, took the train to the city, where she now worked at a local coffee shop, waitressing and doing other odd jobs around the cafe. She had refused when Vladimir had tried to give her gold jewelry and pearl brooches, shining pieces of royal treasure the likes of which Mel was sure the city of Philadelphia had never seen. He wanted her to live well, to enrich her with gifts that were but drops in the ocean of wealth that was the Vampiric bloodline's fortune. Melanie couldn't possibly accept. She was leaving him; that was already bad enough; to take money (or the equivalent once those jewels were sold) from Vladimir as well? It would have made her feel horribly undignified to depart like that. She had pushed them away with almost an angry look in her eyes. Vladimir interpreted it as her move to break from him completely, and silently, had let the matter go. He didn't notice Mel's stinging eyes, as she watched Vlad walk out, her tears of sorrow that he loved her enough to worry about her future even just when she'd announced she'd be leaving him forever. Now she was living in an apartment with two other girls, an Asian girl named Jean, and a redhead named Kathry. Jean was out most of the time, she was studying for a pharmaceutical degree, but Kathry was an artist, who worked at a clothing shop in the stockrooms during the day to pay for her endeavors. Kathry was convinced it would only be a matter of time until she completed her grand masterpiece-- her piece de resistance, that would land her in the annals of art history, like Da Vinci or Van Gogh. It had been several months, and spending time with the other girls, Melanie had managed to quench much of the depression that had set in after her departure from Vladimir. Melanie was currently looking through the papers, seeing if there were any bachelor or vocational programs that could be completed in two years. She didn't see the use in applying to any prestigious universities. Wasn't the point of becoming an adult to learn useful skills that could be applied to the workforce? She didn't need a Harvard degree to do that. Mel was sure that as long as she found something she was genuinely interested in, and applied herself to it, she would be successful in her career. An ad for veterinarian school caught her eye. She'd always loved animals, and seemed to be a natural with biology in high school; why not? Kathry burst in the door at that moment, with her arms full of groceries. "Hey, Mells, can you help me with these?" Kathry's hazel eyes were shining with excitement, and she tossed her short, bouncy red curls to the side as she ran around the kitchen. "Sure," Melanie got up, laying aside the newspaper for later. "Why'd you buy so much food for today?" "I went to a meeting with the new director of the Langsford exhibit in the new Galleria today," Kathry handed Mel a potato, and started peeling one herself. "What do you think about some home-style fries?" Mel nodded. "So anywho, they want to display my experimental piece in their gallery at the opening next weekend, you know, the one I painted while doing a somersault?" "Yes, how could I forget?" Mel joked. "You're definitely pioneering the next artistic movement, painting with gymnastics, you should be painting at the Olympics." Kathry stuck her tongue out. "So I decided to celebrate," Kathry continued. "I also got some champagne. Champagne with potato chips, Marilyn-Monroe style, mais non?" They continued their peeling, chatting all the while. Jean had gone to her parents for the weekend, and Kathry and Mel were planning an all-night oldies session, watching the best of the silent films that they had collected at various Blockbusters around town. After dinner was finished, the two girls settled down in front of the couch. They opened the champagne, and Mel toasted Kathry, congratulating her on her success, just the beginning to more future conquests, she was sure. They popped in Sunset Boulevard, and began watching. Night fell over the city, and the soft gleam of lit apartments on the opposite of the street sent a slight light through the windows. Mel was just beginning to doze off on the wings of sleep when there came a loud knocking on their apartment door. Kathry was so engrossed in the current scene that she didn't even notice. Rubbing her eyes, Mel got up to open the door. She pulled open the heavy door, and stood there, face to face with none other than Gorv. Gorv raised a palm up, almost as in a friendly gesture, but Melanie could respond with nothing more than an empty stare and her mouth open in surprise. "Excuse me, Gorv," Duke Lorenze stepped out from behind the massive vampire's back, and Mel's shoulders lowered in relief. "What's going on?" Kathry was standing behind Melanie now, and her voice caught Mel by surprise. She whirled around to see Kathry's eyebrows raised in question. Gorv certainly wasn't someone you expected to see on your doorstep in the middle of the night. "Um, wow, where do I begin?" Mel wondered aloud. "Well, first of all, come inside if you please, Duke. But why are you here, and Gorv?" Melanie turned back to the Duke, who was at the moment taken aback by the sight of Kathry, her hands on her hips, and eyes fixed on Gorv's imposing stature. "This is urgent, Melanie, we don't have time to talk," The Duke spoke rapidly. Gorv, standing next to him, nodded in agreement, and Melanie looked at the two in shock. Since when had they become best buddies? "If you don't mind, we'll be leaving right now." The Duke nodded apologetically at Kathry, and reached forward to pull on Mel's arm. "Hmm, two big men trying to whisk my roommate away without a single word of explanation?" Kathry now stepped in front of Mel, blocking the Duke. "Why, I think I do mind. Mel, do you know these people?" She gestured at Gorv apprehensively. "Well, yes, but, it's a long story," Melanie shrugged her shoulders. She bit her lip, wondering if she should tell the truth. "I'm leaving," Gorv shouldered past the group crudely, "Or it will all be too late. He headed straight towards the window, and pushing the creaking panes aside, without regarding Kathry's presence, and lifted off into the night, a swarm of massive bats at his sides, guiding his flight. "Oh, my--"Kathry was now the one with her mouth wide open. Melanie turned to her to explain, seeing how there was no avoiding it now. "He's a vampire," Mel couldn't think of any mundane or normal way to tell the fact. The Duke stopped her, and, clutched onto both of the girls' arms, led them towards where Gorv had just left. "That idiot!" The Duke shook his head at the open window. "I'm so sorry, ladies, but now that you're both aware of the situation, I'm afraid we can't postpone leaving any longer. There will be time for explanations once we get there, but now that your friend (he nodded towards Kathry) is aware of the vampires, we must all go together." "Just you wait a second here," Kathry pulled herself loose from the Duke's grasp. "I'm not going anywhere with you." "Wait, Gorv said it will all be too late," Mel suddenly realized what she'd heard. She turned towards Lorenze. "What does he mean? Why's Gorv here?" Kathry now had her arms crossed in front of her chest. Lorenze's brows were furrowed in anxiety, but he sighed in desperation. "It's Vladimir, Mel," He looked at Mel, who suddenly felt a cold chill wash over her. "He's in danger. Vyeila has him completely trapped in her plans, and tonight, well, tonight might just be his last night. Gorv is here because Vyeila discharged him from service after she'd discovered his error in slacking on guarding you in the potions room." Mel gasped, and stared at the Duke, hearing the words over and over, threatening to engulf her completely. She felt her feet weaken, and staggered to grasp onto the window ledge. Kathry rushed forward to help her. "Does Kathry have to go?" Mel looked at the Duke. "Yes, I'm afraid so," He raised his hands in defeat. "After what Gorv did, she's not going to be able to be kept safe, once the other vampires are aware of her knowledge." "Kathry, I'm so sorry, but you have to trust in me, just this once." Melanie turned towards her friend, her eyes pleading and her hand trembling. "He, well, my" (she'd never mentioned Vladimir and didn't know what to call him now that they'd been separated) "Well, someone very important to me is in danger. And we have to go find him right now. You have to come too, or you won't be safe. Just trust me, the Duke is not dangerous, he's here to help me." She gestured towards Lorenze, the words having spilled out in a rush. Kathry processed the info, her eyes open as her brain raced. "All right," Kathry didn't even know what else to say at this point, "Let's go. You'd better explain this to me later." Lorenze rushed them down the stairs now, and into a carriage waiting outside. The driver wore a hood and his face was shaded, but Melanie was pretty sure this was no ordinary driver -- it was a fellow vampire, who'd come with Lorenze and Gorv. As they drove out of the town, the cart veered into a dark little alleyway. The time to take flight, into the dark sky, had come. As Mel again felt the cold wind whip at her face, she was reminded of how she had first met Vladimir, and unwillingly, the tears dotted her cheeks one by one. She felt a pressure on her hand, and turned to see Kathry smiling at her, her eyes brave even though her other hand clutched tightly onto the Duke's coat, as they were all lifted by the vampire driver. "Thanks," Melanie mouthed, and was thankful that, this time, she had Kathry with her to deal with the dangers. This time, she thought, she would save Vladimir, and maybe...it wouldn't be too late. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The dim light of the waning moon reflected into the ceremonial chamber, as Vladimir sat upon the throne-- his father's throne, soon to be his-- with both hands resting on the marble shoulders. His face was as cold and lifeless as the rock he sat on, and his eyes were dulled with the stare of apathy. She approached him, her hands reaching out for him as she walked towards him from the back. Vladimir didn't turn. He didn't have to even look at her to know who was approaching. As she neared him, his skin, of its own accord, shivered into goosebumps, and her silent footsteps were like a warning of imminent attack. Two long nails rested on either side of his neck, and behind them, Vyeila leaned forward, her straight onyx hair a heavy curtain that fell to both sides of her face. As her hands clutched tighter onto his broad shoulders, Vladimir's eyes narrowed, but he still didn't usher a word. Vyeila's breath was on his neck, and he felt her inhale his scent. Vyeila's dark eyes creased as she concentrated, her wide nostrils flaring at the strong aroma of the royal cloth Vladimir now wore combined with his own scent of ancient wine, the wine he'd sedated himself with these past unending days since Melanie's departure. Vyeila whispered into his ear, her voice soft, almost silent, but so menacing, a feminine iciness beneath the tone, like a seductive snake that dances to kill. Her fingers traced down around his robe, and her dark red lips were right at the edge of his shoulder. A Thousand Years Ch. 04 Vladimir's fingers were curled tight together. The ceremony was to be in two nights. What difference did it make: now or then? She'd take her prize, she would take over his kingdom, and what did it all matter to him anymore now that Melanie was gone? Vladimir's royal blue eyes shut tight, as he tried to smooth away the face that now filled his mind, the soft brown waves that framed that laughing, peach face and warm smile. Her hazel eyes, brown in the dark, and dotted with green specks in the flickering sunlight. It was all gone. Vyeila pulled at the edges of Vladimir's robe, her fingers slithering over his marble chest. Vladimir shut his eyes tighter. "My king," Vyeila's words were like daggers at Vladimir's heart. "Mine. My kingdom." Her quiet, deadly voice broke off into the gasp of a laugh as she basked in her own triumph. She pressed her cold red lips to Vladimir's shoulders, and left a dark red stain there, a mark of her entrapped prey. Vyeila's eyes gazed admiringly over Vladimir's muscular, translucent torso, but he was already lost in his own world, the world behind his eyes where he lay with Melanie in a cave, covered with hay, days when he had found his meaning to life, when the love he'd never known had come to him like a gift of light in the darkness, and now the ache still burned deep, covered by its owner, but smoldering and wounding in the cores of his being. "Shall I take you now?" Vyeila's voice concealed desperation, like that of a dangerous monster playing at acting the role of an innocent, little girl. She lifted her lips to slightly reveal two sharp teeth, as her horrid breath pressed closer, closer to Vladimir's cheek. She traced a finger over the ridges in Vladimir's stomach, the sharp, cut surface of his body, but she felt no response, no shudder or even recognition of her presence. It was like touching an empty vessel, or a frozen sculpture. "Tomorrow night, then." Vyeila reluctantly slid her hands off Vladimir's shoulders and backed away from the throne, but her words hadn't even entered Vladimir's ears. As she left the room, she turned back and saw him still, sitting there motionless, his face barely recognizable in the dim room, but his fingers still curling, ever so tightly, over a lost dream he held in his palms. After she was gone, Vladimir shuddered involuntarily at the spot where she'd pressed her lips to his shoulders. What was he anymore, now that Melanie was gone, but a pawn of his kingdom, father, future queen? And what motive did he have to fight it anymore, as there was no one to be free for, no one to come to and take away forever. His head fell forward into his palms, as he bent head down, sitting on the throne, a broken royal masterpiece of beauty. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Melanie and Kathry both gasped as they landed on the ground, the vampire they clutched onto having reached the edges of the palace grounds. He bowed to the Duke, and having served his duties, left the grounds. Lorenze extended a hand to Melanie, who looked a little shaky, standing in front of the scene of her most hated memory-- leaving Vlad that cold, wintry day and watching his heart shatter into pieces right in front of her. She leaned a bit on the Duke's arm, and looked down apologetically when he turned to her in concern. "I'm fine, thanks," Mel whispered. Kathry followed behind carefully. They entered the main gates of the royal structure, and Mel combed her fingers nervously through her hair as the cold night air whipped her chestnut locks left and right. "Hey, Mel," Kathry's bouncing red curls suddenly appeared at Melanie's side. "It's going to be okay, all right?" She peered at Mel worriedly, and Mel nodded. "And then after this is all over, we're going to go home, and everything will be fine." Kathry glared at Lorenze as she said "home," apparently not expecting this stranger to take them back ever. They reached the large, bolted front doors of the palace, and the Duke entered with a heavy set of keys that he fished out of his pocket. Inside the walls of the ancient undead, their footsteps were loud and clumping on the cold floor, unable to glide silently without effort like the vampires did. They paused outside the door of the ceremonial chamber. Mel looked at the Duke with fear in her eyes. Had it already occurred? Was he already wedded to his dark, deadly bride? The Duke was unable to return her look, and turned to the door cautiously. He pried the creaking sides open, and they peered inside. There was no one. The dim room reeked of a certain smell of myrhh, alcohol, and herbal grandeur. It was the scent of the royal robes, but the wearer was already gone. Kathry's eyes widened as she took in the scene around her. This had to be some setting of a princely family...but just how dangerous that family was she had no idea. She was silent, trying to take in all the information and help Melanie in her situation as best she could. The Duke led them out the chamber and down the hall. He stopped in his tracks however, and turned to both ladies, putting a finger to his lips. "Shh, listen," his voice was muted, and they crept into the shadows behind the chamber doors. The sound of gliding cloth filtered down the hallway, and they watched as Vyeila walked into view, a bottle in her hand, and the other lifting its bony fingers to remove the cork. She lifted the bottle to her spread nostrils and took a whiff. Her wide lips smirked in satisfaction, and she continued down the hall, the moonlight barely highlighting her long black hair as it slightly fluttered in one line behind her. "That women is pure evil," Kathry commented quietly but insightfully. The Duke looked at her curiously. "It's my woman's intuition." She shrugged, causing Lorenze's lips to twitch up in a slight smile. "I think we should hide," Melanie told the other two. "We don't know where Vladimir is right now, and we don't want to endanger him by angering Vyeila. It's better for her not to know I'm here. Or Kathry." The Duke nodded, agreeing. "I'm sorry, ladies, but tonight you'll have to rough it out," the Duke continued. "I'll have to situate you in the cellar, the safest place in this palace until I find where Vladimir is first." "Hmm, lots of wine and space to sleep on the ground, sounds good to me." Kathry grinned. The Duke looked a little taken aback, but returned her smile. He waved the two women on, and they followed him as he went down the hallway and towards a set of stairs set in a corner of the palace. They reached the musty, dark cellar, and the Duke unlocked the doors. Inside, the place reeked of opened wine, and there were two jars that had been opened, it seemed, recently. They found a little nook in the area next to the shelves, and the Duke left to get blankets and other provisions. He returned shortly, and the two girls settled down into the uncomfortable surroundings. Lorenze bid them good night and left promptly, leaving them with a set of keys to his room, in case they needed to find him urgently in the night and could do so secretively. Both girls tried to go to sleep, but Melanie was too worried, and Kathry was eyeing the wine jars with, it seemed, no idea of sleep in mind anytime soon. Melanie forced herself to lay down, and get the rest necessary for the long day ahead tomorrow. As she counted sheep in her head, she slowly drifted off on the wings of sleep. Kathry, however, decided to taste the open bottle of merlot by her head. While she was here, she might as well have fun, right? And didn't they say that a little bit of wine was good for the heart... An hour later, a slightly drunk Kathry, keys in hand, began to wonder what was outside these halls. No one had explained anything clearly to her yet, and her fuzzy mind figured it would be quite safe to walk out into the hallways and ask Lorenze herself. After all, it seemed that this was some sort of Gothic ruins, the type that was a benchmark of many tourist vacations. And that raven-headed woman, probably a tour guide or something, who had to dress in the style of the ancient times, so she should be just fine venturing out by herself. Kathry bumbled and tripped her way up the stairs and out into the hallways, jingling the keys in her hands. She remembered the Duke's room was on the right, and fumbling, inserted the keys into the keyhole. As the door clicked open, she saw a startled Lorenze sitting at his desk drawer writing suddenly whirl around to face her. With a slightly amused, but surprised expression, Lorenze rose quickly, and led Kathry over, closing the door quickly before anyone should come down the halls and see the redheaded newcomer. The Duke let Kathry take over his bed, which she jumped into with glee, in her fuzzy mind state viewing it as a bed of clouds. She rolled around on the pillows, and the Duke, with a smile on his lips, left the room, closing the door as he left, to sleep in the empty room next door. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Melanie awoke when she heard a scratching on the door to the cellar. She pulled the blankets tight around her and hoped it wasn't Vyeila. Then, she noticed that Kathry was no longer by her side. Mel shifted out of her blankets gingerly as the door opened further. In the dark, she couldn't see the person but quiet footsteps glided into the room. There was the descent of swift feet down the stairs, and then a sudden wash of light as a lit candle held by a long arm entered the room. She stared up, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as Vladimir's face was suddenly just a few feet away from hers. Her hazel eyes gazed up into his cold blue orbs, as she feared that he would look back into hers with hate and pain. Mel didn't know if she could take seeing his face filled with the deepest disgust for what she had done to his emotions. But the face that gazed back at her held no flickers of emotion. Vladimir's features were as cold and smooth as a washed chalkboard, and he stood up straight again after having bent to see who was sitting in the dark corner of the cellar. "What brings you here, Melanie?" Vlad's voice was cool, collected, and not at all angry. Melanie gazed up at him speechlessly. There was no sign of any meaning in Vladimir's voice. She looked over him carefully; he didn't seem hurt or in danger in any way. Perhaps the Duke's warning had been exaggerated. After all, Vyeila may be an unpleasant woman, but why would she want to harm her own fiancee, the key to her future status? It made no sense. Melanie wondered if Vlad was intentionally playing his feelings off, not wanting to let her know how much he had been hurt, or if he had truly gotten over her, truly decided to let go and forget. If that was the case, then she shouldn't tamper with his emotions. She would have to play along, to act as cool and careless as he. As soon as she made sure he was safe, and that Vyeila had no evil intentions, besides being Vlad's bride, then Mel would return home. After all, Vlad and her were impossible, for them to be together was to endanger the future and security of both. Furthermore, in the depths of her heart, Mel didn't want to be the reason that Vlad would fight with his royal family, would leave behind all the wealth and fortune that he was born into, the privileges of the royal bloodline. She didn't want to be the reason for his downfall, a burden that could benefit him in no way, but harm him in many. All this Mel thought in the span of three minutes, and then she turned her eyes to Vlad decidedly, without betraying her inner yearning on her face. Her own straight, unmoving features stared back at him. "I came here with Lorenze," Mel came up with an excuse. "He told me he needed me to tell him about the conditions in my homelands in person, since he's planning on doing some travelling." "Quite reasonably," Vladimir nodded. "Might I find you some better accommodations for the night, then? I presume you are busy, and won't be able to stay the whole week?" Vladimir let the candlelight drift gently over the room, and looked at the pile of blankets that Mel slept in with a shrug. "Ah, yes, well, I'm actually just going to stay here, thanks," Mel stammered, not wanting to leave the hall and see Vyeila in this most unfortunate circumstance whatsoever. "The marble furniture in the rooms are too cold for me." She didn't mention that the marble based bed hadn't been cold when Vlad had lay in it with her, in the days that now seemed so, so long ago. "I see," Vlad nodded again. Without any further words, he bid her goodnight, and left her the candle for lighting. Then, he exited the room, and Mel watched his retreating footsteps with an odd sense of loss. It was true then, that she had damaged him beyond repair, he couldn't even muster up the tiniest hint of the old flame that she had felt rekindling in her own body, but it apparently had long stopped affecting him. The door to the cellar closed with a creak and groan, and Mel dove into her blankets, covering her face in the folds. Vladimir was still the same Vladimir. His silver-blonde mane still trailed behind his elegant, tall face, and his dark blue eyes contained the same stormy seas that Mel had fallen for, deeply, irrevocably. Staring at his strong, tall figure, she remembered tracing her fingers softly over the planes of his chest, and leaning against him, head under his chin, her mahogany waves cresting out over his marble torso. But now, the Vladimir she saw, though dressed in the same dark robe, only with a red royal draping over it, was never going to be hers again. The tears fell like rain over Mel's cheeks, even as she suppressed her sobs into the soft lining of the blanket. She felt a lump in her throat, and had to take a deep breath to fight the unpleasant sinking feeling in her stomach. She deserved it though. Wasn't this what Vladimir had felt when she had all but abandoned him and went home? Except now he was nearby, and she had to keep repeating to herself that he was gone to keep herself from bounding up the stairs and back into his arms. Those arms would no longer be open, if she did face him again, he most likely wouldn't let her affect him again, wouldn't open himself to that vulnerability and pain one more time. She could imagine standing in front of him, with her arms outstretched and her eyes pleading, could imagine the split second it would take to cross the room to wrap both arms around him. But he wouldn't budge; he would be as cold and hard as the stone walls that surrounded them, and he would look back at her, those cool blue eyes as merciless as the unending sea. She wouldn't take that risk of hurting herself, of widening the wound that now throbbed inside her. Melanie could feel the abyss inside begin to widen, could see herself staring into her own hopeless future. She wrapped the blanket tightly around her head, and stared at the darkness that the sheets she was muffled in created. For one second, she tried to put it all out of her mind, to let herself wallow in the emptiness. It was going to be okay. She would deal. Taking a deep breath, Mel opened the blanket again, and wrapped the layers around herself, settling back to attempt to return to sleep, the only place where the bittersweet ache would disappear. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The morning sun didn't reach the depths of the cellar, but the Duke had woken up early and prepared a tea in the veranda on the edges of the forest that had been the vestiges of when earlier royal families had resided in the grounds, before the Count and his dark lords had taken over. He was now on his way to find Vladimir. Kathry had passed out in the bed, and the Duke didn't disturb her, leaving only a note for her to stay in her room, and that there was food prepared on the desk drawer for her when she woke. He hoped Kathry would note the danger of the situation, and do as advised. Lorenze stepped out into the hallway and strode briskly down the hall. He paused outside Vladimir's door and wondered how he should phrase the meeting. Surely, Vladimir was still hurt by Melanie's decision, but how would he react to finding out that Melanie was in the castle? The Duke knocked on the door, and waited for Vlad's quiet footsteps. The door opened, and Vladimir appeared, smiling courteously. "Morning, my dear friend, did you sleep well?" Vladimir's tone was even and calm, without any hint of depression or inner turmoil. Lorenze wondered if he had escaped the dark spell he had been in for so long. "Yes, you too, I hope." Lorenze replied customarily. "Listen, Vladimir, I have some good news, and bad news." He glanced at Vlad anxiously, but the latter made no response. "It's about Melanie. She's here, and I thought the best occasion for you two to see each other again, after that, uh, the past incident, is in a secluded gathering at the veranda, the one right by forest grounds. I've prepared some tea and dessert, and you can walk over right now. I'll come with Melanie." "Melanie?" Vladimir echoed. "Oh, yes, she's in the cellar. I left her a candle. I hope she didn't sleep too uncomfortably, but she seemed fine. Well, then, I'll see you at the veranda." With a closed smile, he left the room, and headed out towards the forest grounds. The Duke stared after him questioningly. He had left Melanie in the cellar with a candle? Could it be that Vladimir no longer had any feelings for his past love, that he no longer even cared what she did or where she went? The Duke couldn't believe it. Well, it wasn't entirely impossible. Vladimir had been in a dark and stormy mood after Melanie left, and now that he seemed to be recovered, it's quite possible that the recovery had involved a change of heart, a letting go that could never be replaced. The Duke shook his head. This would be difficult. But now that he had set the event in process, he would have to get Melanie anyways. He headed off towards the cellar. Everyone sat around the limestone table, which had been tarnished with the passage of time. There was elegant silverware on the tableware, which the Duke had brought from his home in the valley kingdom nearby. He poured some tea into cups for everyone and sat down. Lorenze coughed to break the awkward silence, but Vladimir just glanced at him reflexively, and then stared back into space, his mind obviously far away from the scene. Melanie, meanwhile, was clutching the apple tart in her hands tightly, and staring down at it, unwilling to subject herself to the cool, careless look in Vladimir's eyes. "So, I guess we should tell Vyeila, then," the Duke looked at Vladimir. Vladimir looked back with a smile. "Tell her what?" Vlad looked genuinely confused. "That the marriage ceremony is off," the Duke continued, as if the fact were obvious. "I mean, now that," he looked towards Melanie. "No, why would it be off?" Melanie now piped up, and lifted her head slowly, her brown tresses falling gently off her shoulder. "Well, I," The Duke looked left to right, from Vladimir to Melanie, speechless. "My fiancee should be preparing for the ritual today, I think," Vladimir commented, almost as if it were a natural, accepted fact. "I should get back soon to help her." "Yes," Mel added meekly. She looked up sideways to catch Vladimir's eye, but he didn't even seem to notice her furtive glance. He had a slight smile on his lips, as if he found the conversation very pleasant and common, as if they were a bunch of friends discussing the weather. Mel felt her heart throb suddenly in a sharp pang. "Vladimir, are you crazy, fellow?" The Duke suddenly burst out. "With Vyeila? You've accepted this?" "Accepted?" Vladimir tilted his head to the side, his blue eyes wondering. "I think it should be a good ceremony. We are, after all, a good match, in name and tradition." Mel swallowed, these were her exact thoughts. She could never measure up to Vyeila in terms of wealth, status, or even that air of royalty. If Vlad thought this too, then there was no way he would ever return to Melanie again. Without being able to help it, she looked up at him carefully, trying to memorize the structured line of his face, the exact color of his eyes, his sculpted figure, before it would all be too soon and she would have to leave again. A Thousand Years Ch. 04 "But Vyeila will ruin you. She's like a poison, no, more dangerous and lethal. She's pure evil." The Duke turned towards Vladimir frantically, repeating Kathry's words without even knowing it. "Actually, Vyeila has been in sight for most of these past few days. I'm sure she's not planning anything," Vladimir sighed. "Quite honestly, I believe she has no such intentions of harming her future husband, and she knows that power resides in the Vampiric line, not hers. Besides, she has probably changed for the better. Most women do when they are about to be married. The Duke just shook his head silently. He didn't even feel like he knew this Vladimir anymore. Had Vyeila seduced him with her dark arts? The Vladimir that he'd known before Melanie had left would have no less called Vyeila changed for the better than he would have called a boa constrictor a harmless pet. "Congratulations, Vladimir," Melanie stopped herself from calling him Vlad, somehow she needed to speak formally, to make this situation seem less personal, less hitting home to herself. "I know you'll be very happy." She pressed her lips in a tight line to hold in the welling tear that threatened to spill out any second now. She looked away, and quickly took a sip of her tea. "Thank you," Vladimir replied with a smile. "Will you be here or will you be home at that time?" He said the words almost on reflex, politely, like a host to a guest, as if they had no import to him. Mel wondered if there was any hidden meaning, but knew there wasn't. She tried to respond, but her own impending depression choked at her throat. "She'll be here," The Duke responded, almost sarcastically. He wondered if it was too late to change Vladimir's mind, to make him come back to Melanie. "Who will be here?" a high-pitched, almost steely voice was heard. A long black robe flowed under a wide face with dark eyes and lengthy raven locks. An emaciated, dark figure glided forwards. Vyeila sat herself down at the table in one swift motion. Melanie froze, like a deer in headlights, and for one second, Vyeila's onyx eyes were inflamed by the hatred of a burning glare, but then she blinked, and her face was again as composed and cold as ever. The two women looked at each other, and both turned to see Vladimir's reaction. He smiled gently and stood up. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *Feel free to use these characters. I might continue but have not currently planned of more. A Thousand Years Ch. 05 Vladimir stood unmoved on the spot. A slight smile began to play across his lips. Vyeila's eyes narrowed and she looked back and forth between Vladimir and Melanie. "Come, my betrothed," Vladimir extended a hand towards Vyeila's direction, "You must be getting ready now. There is no time to waste. The ceremony is tomorrow." Melanie bit on her lip. This still didn't stem the bitter seed that burst within, filling her with a deep sadness. She didn't lift her head, didn't even have to look at Vladimir to know that he would no longer return her glance. "Thank you, my dear," Vyeila's voice was menacing even when she uttered the kindest, false words. "Vlad, you must be crazy!" The Duke could hold it in no longer, seeing Vladimir's hand clutched in the grasp of the dark-haired Vyeila. "Ah, Lorenze, calm down, my friend." Vladimir turned to him good-naturedly. "You will be at the ceremony too, I believe? With Melanie? I look forward to seeing you both there. You are both such good friends of mine. I will attend to you then. For now, I must go. Have a good night's sleep." Vladimir bowed, and strode away, his left hand still gripped tightly by both of Vyeila's. Melanie was now slouched onto the table, her brown tresses covering her face, but the Duke could see by the shaking of her shoulders that she was crying. "Melanie, I'm so sorry," the Duke said remorsefully. "It's not your fault," Melanie sobbed out, in muffled sounds, under her arm. "I'm going to go." The Duke stared at her, silent. Melanie lifted her head now, her eyes wet with tears. "I'm going to go, so that I may see him wed, and erase him from my mind forever, so that I can tell myself it's over completely." Melanie said in one long rush. The Duke shook his head, his face pained. It wasn't fair that Melanie had to hurt so. But her face was resolute. Finally, he sighed, and nodded. It was the end of a weary day, and tomorrow wasn't going to be any easier. ~~~~~~~~~~~ The ceremonial chamber was unlike anything the court had seen before. The cold marble walls had been lined with paintings of the royal family, all the way back until time immemoriam. Melanie's eyes flickered over the tapstries that now also hung high up in the chamber ceilings. One in particular looked familiar. It was the Count's face that stared back at her, the leering eyes and nose, but somehow softer. Next to him a woman was resting her golden head on his lap. Her eyes were closed and her position peaceful. Melanie felt a sense of recognition wash over her as she stared at the woman woven into the wool. The floor of the chamber was polished and shone glossily in the moonlight. The center of the pit, that had once held the notorious snake pit, was now bare with just an elegant white arch in the circle. It rose over the crowd, its edges lined with silk and flowers. The arch itself was carved out of ancient stone, and gave an aura of coolness to all who stood around it. The Count sat in his royal seat, draped in the regalia of his reign, while the Duke sat to his left, his face anxious and unhappy. Kathry was still in the Duke's room, having been told not to go anywhere until morning came. Melanie now found a seat towards the back of the crowd, higher up in the aisles, and settled into its hard edges uncomfortably. "Let the ceremony begin!" The Count's voice, usually reserved and soft, boomed out into the crowd, and everyone ushered into their seats quickly, a silence falling over the room. A grand piano on the edge of the room seated a cloaked figure, who began to play the strum of a grand, but deadly song, the melodies of the Rite of Marriage. The shivering music floated through the chamber, and Melanie's eyes prickled against her own will. She clutched the edge of her skirt tighter as the door to the chamber opened slowly, groaning in its wake. Vladimir entered the room. He wore a long white robe, that was barely lighter than his silver-blonde hair, that flowed behind him as he strode into the chamber, a fine glowing mane of royalty. His deep blue eyes were clouded behind a steel look of concentration as he headed forwards towards the arch. His hands were palm down, smoothly by his sides, but the stride in his gait betrayed an intense focus on only one goal, it seemed, reaching the arch. Once there, Vlad stood as motionless as a statute, facing the masses and crowd, while the door opened once again. Vyeila now walked in, her head arched forward, and her long black hair trailing behind her. Her eyes were narrowed in anticipation, as she walked forward with a wide smile on her lips. She played to the crowd, turning left and right, nodding and smiling, as she walked forward. Upon reaching the arch, she turned to face Vladimir, her onyx eyes gleaming with a sudden spark of triumph. The music now drifted towards an end, and the cloaked figure left the piano, to glide to Vladimir and Vyeila's setting in the center of the chamber. Mel's breath caught in her throat, as she saw the Count smile, his teeth baring in the light of the moon. The Duke was slumped back into his seat, one hand over his eyes. "The first rite of the ceremony," The cloaked figure retrieved a knife from under his cloak. "The opening of the ancient encasement." Melanie now saw a small metallic box sitting on a raised top in the center of the ground under the arch. The figure gave the knife first to Vladimir, who picked at one side of the metallic box. A small click was heard. Then, he gave the knife to Vyeila, who now picked open the other side of the box. The figure opened the dully shining box. He pulled out a scroll. The crowd was now in a hushed mood, with each person perched on the edge of their seats to hear what the figure would read out loud. "By the moon of the seventh night, the son of the Count and his bride will wed. She who stands and she who falls, the one to reign hereon over all." Vladimir's head was tilted towards the dark figure, his eyes infused with an intense gaze. The figure continued. "The night of the dark, where light is gone, is unending till the break of dawn. The young and the old, the ancient and new, a hero's own kingdom the one he will choose." The Count suddenly drew in a sharp intake of breath. The Duke sat up in his seat as well. They both looked at Vladimir unblinkingly. Vladimir now stepped to the center of the arch, and reached into the box. He pulled out a glass flask, with a jeweled cap enclosing it. He handed it to Vyeila. "The wine of the vampire queen," Vlad spoke the words softly, his voice forming them in a seductive manner. "It is yours, Vyeila. The time has come." Vyeila pulled the bottle over to herself greedily. "Yes," Vyeila grinned, baring her sharp teeth, luminescent against the shading of her raven hair. She pulled out the cap and held it up to the light. The liquid inside shimmered and edged against the glass. It had a slight green tint to it, and from the glass emanated the smell of a sweet, suffocating lavender, drifting all the way into the air of the crowd. Vyeila closed her eyes and lifted the flask to her lips. "No!" Melanie suddenly rushed out of her seat and was at the arch in several seconds. Her eyes were wide, and her voice frantic. The Count's eyes suddenly narrowed in recognition, and he rose from his throne, his face hardening into a mask of anger. "That's poisonous." Melanie couldn't believe she knew this. But the liquid, the way it looked, the smell, it was exactly like an article she'd read about a certain snake's liquid that had poisoned someone's dog in the wilderness once. The color, everything, she was almost completely sure of it. "You are Melanie?" The Count's low, menacing voice was at Mel's ears. She gulped and nodded. "Well, then, I'm afraid you have spoken the words. You have attempted to stop the proceeding of this ceremony, and accused my son of poisoning his bride. Do you know what that means?" Vladimir now turned toward the Count, his eyes wide in horror. Melanie shook her head. What was going on? "No, Father," Vladimir's voice was clear-cut steel, whipping through the chamber as everyone begin to stir in commotion. "I won't let it happen." "Drink," The Count's face was imposingly close to Melanie's now. But it was poison; Melanie shook her head. "Drink..." The Count's voice was almost hypnotic, and he lifted out an arm, to grasp the flask from Vyeila. He leaned forward, whipping out his cloak to shield Melanie from the eyes of the crowd, pushing the flask closer and closer to her. His eyes suddenly flared. "You. Must. Drink!" Melanie, caught in the fear of his gaze, and noticing the impending closeness of his sharp fangs, moved forward, almost as if in a trance, to accept the flask. "Noooo!" Vladimir roared. He leaped at the Count, but the cloaked figure was already there to block him. The two fell to the ground, in a rough tangle, as Vyeila tried to pull at Vlad's robe. Two more vampires came from the crowd. They seized Vladimir and pinned him against the arch, with two swords at his neck. They turned to hear the Count's orders. "Drink, or die..." the Count's voice was barely a whisper, too low for the crowd to hear. Melanie could see that he now held the knife from the ceremony in his hands. "You have been a barrier to this kingdom to long. Drink, my dear...drink, Vladimir will be fine, drink..." Melanie's heart pounded furiously in her chest, but she saw Vladimir's eyes. In that moment, the cloud on his blue orbs had broken, and his eyes now were maddened, alive. Vladimir's mouth was open in horror, and he writhed and tore at his captors bonds. He thrashed against the arch, and his silver-blonde hair tossed wildly against his robe. All the while, his eyes, they never strayed, his eyes were fixed on Melanie's, almost as if to keep her there, to keep her existing. Vladimir, he loved her. Mel's heart seemed to swell in her chest, as the flask was reluctantly forced into her fingers. Vladimir, he had been waiting for this moment all along, playing at a ruse, trying to trick everyone, including Melanie, to keep her safe. Melanie's fingers curled tighter around the flask. Vladimir was going to die for this, she was sure. Vyeila's face was livid, beyond livid, and it was only the presence of the Count that restrained her from shrieking in anger. Vladimir was going to die...unless...Melanie looked at the flask. The green liquid swirling within now seemed to contain a secret, as if it was not what it seemed to be. Melanie wondered...maybe she could drink it, and it wouldn't be too late. Would Vladimir save her? The Count leaned closer, knife still slightly shielded from the crowd's view, impinging onto Melanie's dress. She drank. In that moment, a rush of warmth filled Melanie as the liquid gushed down her throat. It was as if a billion bubbles filled her, and she felt lifted. Without even knowing it, she handed the flask back to the Count, and stared at the world in disorientation. It was as if she had been filled lighter than air, her feet felt like she was floating. Melanie stepped forward now, into the center of the arch, and touched the metallic box. It seemed to glow and shine, as if her touch had ignited a long-subdued flame inside. Vyeila rushed forward, and grabbed the flask out of the Count's hand. She glared at Melanie, who, instead of dying, now seemed infused with a warm glow, her cheeks enlivened with deepening shades of pink. Vyeila quickly raised the flask to her own lips, and drank. Her lips puckered as the liquid went down her throat, and her eyes began to bulge. Vyeila grasped at her throat, as a sound of choking issued from her own mouth. The Count turned, horrified. The raven-headed vampress fell to the ground, her arms jerking up from beneath her, as she squawked against the cold marble. Vladimir's face was puzzled, terrified, and slightly relieved as he rushed forward to Melanie, now having been freed from the two vampire's clutch. "Melanie, are you okay?" Vladimir placed his arms around her gingerly. Vyeila was still struggling on the ground, and as she writhed, her feet began to twitch, and grow dustier and darker. Her torso then seemed to freeze in place, and finally her whole body was immobile, the evil vampress having been transformed into stone. The Count quickly tried to lift the statue from the ground, but it was too heavy, so he finally just let the stone Vyeila rest against the ground, her face forever frozen in the expression of rage and greedy maliciousness. Vladimir touched Melanie's soft brown hair, leaned his face against her own warm, glowing skin, and circled his arm around her pale shoulder. She was safe, she was ok, she was unharmed. The gratitude in his eyes didn't need to be spoken. Melanie now leaned forward, and under the arch, kissed Vladimir gently, tenderly. He returned the embrace, and tilted her slightly back, so that her face was glowing like a luminescent pearl in the faint moonlight. The metallic box now began to shine brighter and brighter, and a slight rumbling was heard, where the box began to shake side to side, and its edges were traced with words that began to be carved into it. The box rumbled louder, as the words traced its plane faster, and it glowed brighter. "What's that?" The voice of the Duke was now heard, as he rushed forward. He grasped the box eagerly, and everyone turned to face him, including Vladimir and Melanie, who had broken from their embrace. "Look, it has writing on it." The Count now rushed to the Duke's side, and pushing him aside rudely, grasped the box for his own viewing. "This, I leave to you my son, the truest love, the hardest won." The Count fell to his knees, the box clattering down beside him. His brows were knitted tightly together, and his palms planted on the ground, as he crouched over the ground, in a concentrated effort, it seemed, to hold himself together. He gripped uselessly at the cold marble floor, and suddenly, his body was racked by a violent sob. "Father," Vladimir's voice was inflected with a sincerity that Melanie had never heard him utter the word with before. He knelt down next to the despairing Count, and his eyes held the sorrow, and pity of a thousand years. "Father, you understand now. Don't you?" The Count was still shaking, but his head was bowed down now, in defeat it seemed. Vladimir just sat by his side, one hand on his shoulders, breathing evenly and unmoving. Finally, the Count lifted his face, that cruel, leering face now filled with a despondent mutedness, and opened his lips to whisper the word, it seemed, 'yes.' Vladimir turned away from his father, who was now completely worn out, and rested against the ground, and stood up. He walked slowly, almost as if in a trance, his face alight in a rapturous glow, towards Melanie. She awaited him with baited breath, and as he drew near, he finally seemed to register the closeness of her face, and leaned down to lift her chin gently, bringing her for an eternity trapped in the gaze of his shining blue eyes. "Melanie," Vladimir said the word as if it were fragile as glass, careful to not stain it with his parsed voice, "Melanie," he said again, as if in a wonder. She nodded, her lips breaking open into a smile, illuminating her rosy face in the moonlight. "Yes, Vladimir?" "If you can ever forgive me, Melanie," Vladimir grinned now, "I'd like to let you know that you have officially become my bride." "But, how?" Melanie looked at Vlad inquisitively. "When we kissed, under the arch, and the metallic box wrote its words, it recognized that you had survived the test of intention, the liquid that you drank. Thus, it recognized you as my one and only possible bride." Vladimir smiled. "I knew something miraculous would happen. My mother's love for me preserved this box in its form, and its determinacy for my happiness. You didn't have to undergo the deadly marriage ritual of a vampress, but can remain forever, in pure form, my wife, my beloved, my all. And nothing else of the nature of evil, that I so feared, will befall you." "Your mother?" Mel tried to grasp at her thoughts. Was she the beautiful woman in the tapestry, the one with hair like ripened grain, shining brightly like the sun? Yes, that had to be her, only she could have produced a son as beautiful and noble as Vladimir. "Yes, my mother." Vladimir nodded. "She died shortly after my birth, but no one dared question the day she entered the storage room of the family royal treasures. It must have been then that she'd altered the ritual box, prepared it for my future destiny. For you, Melanie." Vladimir brushed a mahogany lock away from Mel's pale face gently, and leaned down to kiss her lashes. Staring up at Vlad, and realizing that it was not a dream, yet it was an impossible dream come true, Melanie felt her cheeks begin to redden and her chest seemed to expand with the greatest bubbly joy she'd ever felt. "Vladimir, so it means that you loved me all along!" Mel exclaimed. Her smile was brighter now than the glow of the moon, and her face seemed to light up the whole chamber, in Vlad's eyes. "Of course, how could I ever hurt you so," Vlad murmured, caught in the enchanting spark of Mel's eyes. "I'm a fool. I should have thought of some other way, but it seemed..." He paused, taking a minute to smooth a tear away from Melanie's eyes. She laughed in embarrassment, it was just like her to cry when she was so happy. "Hm, it seemed that there was something drawing me to this moment, leading me to this fate. All I know is that I'm so grateful. And I shall never part from you again." He clutched both of Mel's shoulders tighter into his own embrace and kissed her head softly, over and over. The Duke rushed forward to offer his congratulations, and Vladimir let go of Melanie reluctantly to shake his hand. "Vladimir, my man, you never told me you had a plan," The Duke grinned widely and gave Melanie a wink good-naturedly. "But of course, you're so easily excited," Vladimir joked. "I do appreciate all you've done for Melanie in this time though. Without you, I don't know if the plan would have succeeded at all." "Well, what to do with Vyeila?" Gorv now appeared by the two men's side, lugging the statue of Vyeila behind him. "Place her in the North Tower." Vladimir suggested. "That should scare away all those pesky crows." "Oh, Vyeila!" Melanie turned now to the stone statue, having not noticed Vyeila's misfortunate incident in her own state of excitement. "My goodness! What happened to her?" "She drank from the flask in a hurry after seeing you had survived, hoping, perhaps, to take over before you could, but instead of invigorating her, the liquid turned her to stone. The test of true love, as my mother's last words bequeathed to me, on the metallic box, indicated." Vladimir told Mel, patting her shoulder gently to reassure her that it wasn't her fault. "Now, let's get you into a bridal dress, and attend to the feast, shall we?" Melanie smiled. "You didn't forget the second part of the prophecy, did you, Vlad, fellow?" The Duke called out to Vladimir and Melanie as they started to walk away. Vlad turned back. "That she who stands will reign over all hereon." Vlad smiled. "That means, Melanie, you're the new heiress to this kingdom, along with Vladimir." Melanie looked shocked, but Vladimir just nodded at Lorenze, and turned Melanie away, leading her out of the room. "We'll worry about all of that in time," Vladimir led Melanie down the hallway. "For now, there's just one thought in my mind: how shall we celebrate?" ~~~~~~~~~~ Melanie was now dressed in a long trailing white gown, not tight and fitting, but rather a loose, flowing shape with complicated bows and ribbons all over. They had returned from the banquet, and entered the bedroom now. Vladimir had moved them into the royal room in the West Chamber, the room his mother had once had specially built for her son and his future bride. Its marble walls were lined with a cool finish, so that their sleek surfaces seemed to be a reflecting face of the moon. A large portrait hung in the center of the room, of a voluptuous sleeping noblewoman surrounded by a field of flowers. The bed had a low-hanging canopy of silk, and was a contraption of the most luxurious sort, its edges lined in silver and gold threads. The pillows were soft and fluffy, and Vladimir, carrying Melanie, leaned her down into the bed gently, while his face pressed down to meet hers eagerly. A Thousand Years Ch. 05 "My blushing bride," Vladimir smiled shyly, as he kissed Melanie's tumbling locks that had fallen over her brown-green eyes. His eyes were shining like clear blue stars, and he glanced over her with low lashes, suddenly aware of their position of closeness. Melanie likewise was aware of being pinned down under Vladimir, and her face furiously reddened, while she tried to calm herself. This was nothing she'd done before, but Vladimir had, hadn't he? "So..." Melanie giggled before she could help herself. "What's so funny?" Vladimir shifted his position awkwardly, and looked down at Mel again, with a smile in his eyes. "Why do you look so nervous?" Mel laughed. "Look at you," Vladimir chuckled. "You're redder than a tomato." Melanie threw a pillow at him. "Should I?" Melanie began to tug at the straps on her dress. "No, let me," Vladimir reached out to stop her, gently but firmly. He traced his hands over the edges of her gown, and bit his lip. The image of her right below him, so open yet so vulnerable, so dreamy and innocent, it was unlike anything he'd encountered before. When he'd been inducted in the ritual, it was almost as if he had been a machine, walking in phases through a step with a matching female vampire who was just as robotic. The completed act was less than five minutes, he remembered. And it had only been to assure that he was capable, of completing the process. Vladimir had thought nothing of the memory, and even thinking of it now, only shuddered slightly in disgust, thinking how it had meant less even than a banquet. But this time was different. It was like he'd never truly seen a woman before, until he saw Melanie. He'd slipped her gown down just past her pale, shapely shoulders, and her chest was slightly nervous, breathing unevenly under his touch. He leaned down to slightly kiss her soft skin, caressing a finger over it, marveling at the silky softness and pale hairs that stood on her arm as she inhaled sharply at his kiss. He looked up at her face, Mel's eyes were bright with excitement, and her lips were pursed slightly, like the opening of a pink-red flower. Vladimir reached up to touch her chin while kissing her, as she wound her fingers into his silver-golden hair, the strands as fine as if spun from an enchanted loom. Vlad moved his hands further down Mel's body, prying the dress down and away. She was splendid in the glowing light of the moonbeans that pierced through the curtains. He bent down to trace his tongue over her milky skin, inhaling her sweet fragrance all the while. It was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. It was like his entire body was alive with the feeling that this magnificent creature, this warm, soft, curving girl was bonded to him entirely now. The vampress in his ritual, all the women in his kingdom, every female soul he'd seen before now paled in utter comparison to the wife that was on his bed, the womanly incarnation of his most yearning desire itself. He leaned in and kissed her, a sudden strong kiss that felt to Mel like he was trying to mesh them together, to wrap her in him completely. Then they broke free, and the air was sweet and cool. Melanie knew she was ready now, and was glad she had waited. "Melanie, I told you that I had an experience when ritual dictated," Vladimir held her at arm's length from him in one fleeting second. "But I should have reframed you. I attended an event, but it was not an experience. I didn't feel any emotions, didn't conjure up any mood from that event. Nothing that is close to a memory. So let us start over...you've always said you wanted to know if we could go further now. Well, my dearest love, we have gone far. Farther than I could have ever believe. We have gone through the trials and tribulations to last us a lifetime. And from now on, I want nothing but happiness for you, I want to spoil you silly and think nothing of it. You deserve nothing less." "But I don't want that," Melanie was smiling sweetly, and she reached up a hand to caress his cheek lovingly. "I don't know what is going to happen, Vladimir, but trust me in this. You can carry on with your duties, running the kingdom, fixing the mess your father has created, and so on, but I will be busy too. I will not be a spoiled brat. There's a lot of things I have yet to learn, both knowledge and socially, and a lot of people I have yet to meet. I want to be a good queen, the type who understands her people, and addresses their needs." "You will be all that, and more," Vladimir agreed. The time for words was past. Vladimir took one last deep breath before untying Melanie's dress and slipping it off all the way. She wore just a chemise, and white laced undergarments underneath. Vladimir slipped his own robe off too, and leaned forwards onto her, the two tumbling together in the bed. Vladimir kissed down Melanie's body, admiring the shapely contours that he encountered, exploring her like he had never had the freedom or security to do so before. Each inch of her dewy skin was like a new spot that he'd never noticed, and thus he felt it necessary to cover each poor neglected spot with a few tiny kisses. Melanie lay back onto her pillow, and watched Vladimir with a sad beauty in her eyes. It had seemed only so recently that everything in her world was falling apart, but now this was too good to be true, to beautiful to be true. He was truly hers now. The fine, tall man, or rather, vampire prince, who bent over her own body, stroking his hands along her skin and his breath tickling at her chest. He kissed the edge of her neck, then up more and more, until they were eye to eye and engaged in a long stare, her marveling at how such luminescent blue eyes could have once seemed cold to her when they know seemed to proclaim songs of love every second they gazed back at her own brownish-green pupils. "Are you ready?" Vladimir whispered. "Yes," Melanie said the word like she'd been wanting to for a century, said the word so that it meant so much more to her now than it ever could have, so glad that she had this moment to cherish, special in its unique, groundbreaking ecstasy. Vladimir, who was ready for her as well, eased himself gently forward, so that his lower body reached hers. As he rubbed his hands along her silky thighs, he kept her mouth entangled in his kiss. His fine silver hair tickled at her face, and finally, with one hand guiding, Vladimir moved his member forward to penetrate Melanie fully. She gasped at the sudden impact. It was hard, and she let out an involuntary sigh when Vladimir encountered her resistance. Now he placed both hands around her, shuddering at the warm touch of her chest against his own, and then pushed forward more firmly one more time. The barrier broke, and Melanie bit her lip. Vladimir eased in gently, giving her a minute to adjust and calm down. He stroked her arms the while, and traced his fingers across her lower back. Melanie breathed in deeper. Vladimir began to slowly shift his weight, and Melanie kissed at his cheek, wrapping her arms around him to continue. Now, Vladimir pulled out and shifted in again, so that Melanie groaned at the feel. He pushed in and out harder, and his own breath began to come unevenly. Melanie pressed her head tighter against his chest, her mahogany waves cresting down over his bare, lucid pecks. She let out a pant as Vladimir grunted, and felt her wrap around him tightly, so that his forehead knit together as he pressed harder, sliding gently deeper into her. "Huh," Melanie exhaled. Vladimir smiled slyly, and breathing heavily in her ear, eased his member in further, while he smoothly stroked his fingers over her breasts. She felt him penetrate her depths, and the tightness of her channel gave Vladimir a harder time of self-control than he thought. He lifted Melanie's lower back so that she was slightly arched from the bed, and she tossed her brown hair back, her eyes eager with excitement. Vladimir pushed into her with more force and intensity now, feeling his rigid shaft throb with need. He joined her at one moment, then pulled away reluctantly the next, so that their love-making became an interplay of necessity and restraint. Melanie began to breathe harder now, and let out little moans of enjoyment as Vladimir's entrance into her became faster and harder. "You are really good at this, Vladimir," Melanie said, half-piqued, half thankful it wasn't awkward. "But only with you, love," Vladimir groaned as she sat up and wiggled onto him closer, "Only with you." Melanie giggled. She decided to test her own newfound knowledge, and lifted her arms up to place around Vladimir's neck. Then, she lifted herself slightly up from Vladimir's engorged piece, and slid back down tightly. His eyes squeezed shut. She chuckled. Vladimir's breath was at Melanie's ear, and he urged her on as he rubbed her back. She rode him up and down, and could feel his breath getting shorter and faster. Melanie then decided to kiss him roughly, and without care, as she furthered her mission of pleasuring him to the max by rolling herself up and down him to her greatest ability. Vladimir smiled at her devotion, and bent her backwards onto the bed. They were both getting close. Vladimir now leaned his head forwards so that his lips rested on the nape of Mel's neck. He continued all the while to fight the urge to suddenly speed up, painstakingly driving himself into Melanie with a quick impact and pulling out smoothly. She began to feel the waves of tension and coiled-up tightness within her as his member rubbed against her walls. He also felt his own lower body tremble with pent up intensity. As their love-making grew rougher, and faster, Vladimir felt the heat boil up in his member, and his body warned him of the oncoming release. "Melanie, I know I've told you this countless times," Vladimir said as he leaned up slightly to look Melanie full in the eyes. "But I want to say it now, with full ability to say so without hurting you, with the future before us, and infinite possibilities. I love you, Melanie. I love you more than anyone, anything." Vladimir let himself go now, and moved into and out of Melanie quickly, so that they both felt the quick waves of pleasure rush over them, and Mel herself let out soft whimpers that sounded like mewing. "Oh, Vlad, I'm close," Melanie felt the ecstasy within her begin to well up, and Vladimir didn't slow down, expanding the magnitude of her thrusts so that Melanie could feel him up to her fully. He gave one long, deep stroke, and Melanie felt him touch her exactly at the spot of deepest desire, and let out a sweet sigh, as the waves of ecstasy rolled through her. Her climax began to wind down, and she gave a slight shudder. Then, Mel looked up at Vladimir with adoring eyes, a slight upturned mouth, and a tilted head. This angel-like image only propelled him to increase his speed, urging himself on. Vladimir plunged into Melanie with great abandon, and felt himself shudder through with her tight reception. "You can, Vlad," Mel looked into his eyes as his last spring was coiled, and he groaned out loud, letting his member release within Melanie, as his royal seed rushed out. She felt the liquid fill her, and clung to Vlad tighter, as he ended with a few more spurts. "Ugh, huh..." Vladimir breathed deeply. They lay together in bed, relaxing from the activity. Melanie stroked her fingers over Vladimir's face, over and over, tracing the shape of his chin, staring up at his now darkened blue eyes, and marveling at the shine of his silver-blonde hair in the moonlight. Vladimir did the same, snuggling his elegant nose into Mel's brown tresses, and inhaling their sweet fragrance, then tracing the tip of his nose down over her soft skin, pearly in the moonlight, and to her pert pink lips. Her long lashes that framed those beloved warm brown eyes were shyly down and Vladimir wondered what she was thinking right now. "Have I hurt you at all, Mel, dear?" Vladimir asked softly. "No," Melanie looked up, and smiled. Vladimir laughed at her sincere innocence. "It was...amazing." That was the only word she could think of to describe it. "I hope it will pale in comparison to future experiences though." Melanie grinned, and Vladimir playfully nipped at her lips. Oh yes, he was definitely going to make sure that what happened tonight would pale in comparison to future encores. "I'm glad it was enjoyable for you," Vladimir's voice was husky and low. "I could only hope to give you one-tenth of the joy you've given to me, even just now, laying here, with your smiling lips so close and dear, and I would be happy. I hope, my love, that everything has changed, and yet nothing. I hope you know that in return for my services, you will have to stay with me, for many future countless years." ~~~~~~~~~ Two years had passed in the kingdom of the dark, which had since not been transformed much in decorations or location, but much in character. Vladimir had reformed the advisors under the Count, who had since retired to a secret palatial resort in the mountains, too saddened by the returned memory of his dead wife to continue ruling. Furthermore, he'd encouraged the vampires to begin domestication of local animals, so as to act as a substitute to human blood, while those who were more dedicated could use milk as their life source, as Vlad himself had done for so many years. Vladimir had been unwilling to punish his father, though the man had acted so cruelly and ruthlessly, choosing instead to place him in seclusion, so that he might someday come to a moral realization. Kathry had returned home to her lands, after Melanie explained that her secret must never be revealed. Kathry understood, and after exchanging a few secret words with the Duke, let them know she would be visiting often, in between working on her art exhibit in the city, and coming to see the Duke, and as a side note, Vladimir and Mel. The Duke apparently had wooed our good lady Kathry, and the latter found him a source of artistic inspiration, as he was frequently given to melodramatic retales of how he'd tried to defeat the vile Vyeila, though much of the credit, Kathry knew, belonged to Melanie. Now, the Duke and Vladimir sat in the royal dining room, drinking tea and eating some cake. Melanie came in, with the twins that she'd given birth to, possibly conceived on the wedding night. They were, the two of them, fraternal twins, yet so similar in their personality. Vladimir had become entirely wrapped around their little fingers, and Melanie as well. Even the Duke couldn't resist their bright smiles and ever-so-clever attempts to guile food and entertainment out of the willingly subjected adults. The little boy had brown, slightly curled hair, like Melanie's, with a sheer golden sheen in the sunlight. And his eyes were a light green. He was a fast-growing little boy, now approaching his first birthday, and he sat on the little spot his mother placed him in, next to the tea table, eagerly eyeing the cake. The girl twin had fine blonde locks, now just starting to grow past her ears, and blue eyes like Vladimir. She was a plump little girl, dressed in a little white frock, and warm socks. She sat next to her brother, with her feet dangling over the edges. Her face was peaceful and adorably inquisitive, but every time Melanie looked at her, she couldn't help but think of Vladimir's golden-haired mother. She was reminded of just how much her own current situation had depended on the lady's help, and thus she named the girl Lilia, after Vladimir's mother. The boy she named Markus, at the suggestion of some of the others in the royal court, and he was both sturdy and fast-learning. "So, my dear old friend, time has treated you well," the Duke's eyes creased as he smiled and he scratched his auburn head in genuine thought. "Yes, and your time is soon to come," Vladimir smiled. "Let us know when Kathry realizes you're the one." "That may never happen," the Duke sighed. "Often, I feel that Kathry doesn't even need me, physically or emotionally. She's a strong woman. That's why I love her." "Why I love her too," Mel smiled as she hoisted Lilia onto her knee and fed her some pudding. "Well, then my good Lorenze," Vladimir looked mischievous. "I suppose it's my turn to intervene now." "Oh, no, please don't!" the Duke looked horrified. "I'm joking, old fellow, calm." Vladimir leaned back in his seat. "She certainly doesn't need you, but perhaps, if you let her know you're the lovelorn, sincere man we all know you are, she'll reveal to you that even though you're ancilliary, she'd like to keep you around all the same. It's all in time's hands, I believe. As long as you don't act any more melodramatic than you already are." Vladimir poked at the Duke's diatribes when Vladimir had been enacting his plan against Vyeila. "You're a good man, Lorenze." Melanie said genuinely. "Love works in the favor of those who are true. I'm sure that Kathry will realize that too. And believe me, when she does, you might be the one who's going to be left scrambling wondering if you can possibly live with her. She is a human whirlwind." "Ah, but I love her for it! I do!" The Duke sighed. They all laughed, and as the sun began to set, the lovely little group chatted away into the hours of the evening.