((This is something that will probably never be finished, I just wanted to get it here for others to read if they want.))
A cool breeze wafted from the open window that looked out over a lake that sparkled beneath the white moon, ruffling the voluminous ice blue curls of Helga von Vögelweide as she changed from her typical, daily Rosenkreuz uniform into her evening wear. She glanced out the window at the beautiful scene before her, adjusting the tightness of her corset strings and the lace edge of the skimpy underwear she had chosen for that night. She wasn't expecting someone, however, and gasped, startled when the silver handle of her bedroom door turned and a man stepped through.
He was dressed all in white, the red edge of his robe sweeping the floor with every flowing step he took. He was quite tall, taller than most of the Methuselah she knew, and was slim in build—a fact that his robe definitely did not hide, as it was rather close-fitting around his torso, two belts secured around his slender waist with golden clasps that caught the evening light. His hair was a shining silver-blond, and just passed his broad shoulders, his skin as pallid as his hair and aglow with inhuman beauty. His lips were set in a gentle, contented smile, and his eyes were of the brightest winter blue she had ever seen.
She took cautious steps toward him, as if unsure how he would react; she had never been allowed to touch this man before now. When she finally reached for him, her fingertips no more than a hair's width away, both of his arms were around her, pulling her against his chest as their lips met, the passion in their kiss leaving her pleasantly dazed and her skin tingling as she leaned against him for support. Slowly, her arms wandered up so her hands rested on the back of his neck, sliding past the high collar of his robe to stroke his blond hair and wind it around her fingertips. It was like liquid silk between her fingers, and she applied gentle pressure to the back of his neck, bringing him down for another kiss. The feel of his tongue slick against hers, and his stroking hands on the lumbar curve of her spine nearly made her melt like wax in his arms, but she ignored her wobbly knees and her fingers found one of the golden clasps high on the man's chest. With a soft click, it came undone, followed by the other two, and the zipper came down as far as his belts would allow so she could smooth her hands across the pale, lean muscle of his chest and stomach. Helga failed to hold back a delighted hum.
With a surprised gasp, Helga's back touched the sheets when the blond man lowered her onto her bed, leaning over her to keep their lips together as his gloved hands worked at the black laces of her tight corset. She aided him, her breath quick as the lacing loosened and her skin met the chill of the midsummer night air. Helga moaned his name and knotted her hands in his hair when he peeled back the stiff garment, the heat of his hands felt even through his gloves, and he lowered his lips to her newly bared breasts. His tongue traced the curved swell, and her spine arced, one knee hitched over his hip in desire. He took the tip of his glove's middle finger between his teeth and removed it, the new contact with her skin making him smile a little more.
As her knees clamped gently around him with excitement, he rocked his hips against her, the hardness beneath his robe felt through the flimsy fabric of her underwear, which she was already soaking, and she gasped softly. Her hands fiddled with the buckles of his belts until they clicked and came off, ending up on the floor. He nipped at her throat, his teeth barely grazing her skin, but she knew what he could do should he choose to drop his fangs. She'd always wanted to give her blood to him, the way Isaak does, and now she might have that chance. She wanted more than just that, however, and since they had already come this far, she wanted it to go all the way, for him to take her completely and so she could show him how she truly felt...
Her breath hitched in his ear and she knotted his hair around her fingers a little tighter when he worked the black lace down her slender thighs, pulling back so he could slide them off her ankles and toss them aside, getting a good look at her nude body. She blushed, but smiled, as his eyes lazily wandered her body, and he himself pulled the zipper of his robe down a little further, until it was just above the hardness underneath, the cloth slipping alluringly off his shoulders. Helga sat up, peeling back the robe and sliding it off his arms, kissing his defined jawline to where it met his neck, her fingers teasing at his zipper until he guided her hand to slide it the rest of the way down, all the way to his ankles. She was slightly surprised to find him naked underneath, unable to hide how impressed she was with his body; he was surprisingly muscular beneath all that clothing.
"You... You haf a beautiful body, Mein Herr..." she panted. He smiled, and laid back to allow her to climb on top, straddling him as she bent forward to kiss him, rubbing herself against him with small, heated moans. His long-fingered hands closed around her breasts, his thumbs fiddling with her nipples, and she moaned louder, pulling away from the kiss to encourage him, sliding down his thighs to allow her hand to close on the shaft of his stiff member. He purred, flipping her onto her back after a few short strokes of her hand, placing her hands on his shoulders and his on her hips, thrusting forward to bury himself inside her. Her reaction was instantaneous; she cried out and practically lifted off of the bed, and her arms wrapped tightly around him as she panted into the crook of his neck, bringing him in deeper when she locked her ankles together behind his back.
When the Krusnik finally moved, pulling back before sliding in once again, she moaned softly. It was just as good as she had always hoped. Better, even, since she had never been as close to her Master as she was now. She knew he did this to Isaak, but did Isaak feel this way? She didn't think so.
They moved together for a long time, until she was moaning and shuddering with every thrust, nearing her finish, and once again his teeth were on her, nipping gently at her neck, but this time she felt something sharp. He must've changed to his Krusnik form while she was preoccupied, and she wished to see what he looked like, but he wouldn't let her up, using his weight to keep her in place. Her cries became wanton as he bit a little harder, the entry of his fangs into her vulnerable Methuselah flesh sending her over the edge, crying out loud to—
"Helga! Helga, wake up!" someone was pounding her door... It sounded like Balthasar... She opened her eyes to find that it was not a warm summer night, but morning. A crisp, autumn morning, and she was quite alone in her bed. A dream? That entire encounter had been a dream?!
"Scheize..." she swore, and slowly dragged herself from bed, going to open the door to find Balthasar there, in his priest's robe, with a smile on his face. At least, until he saw her.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you from a good dream?"
"You haf no idea... Vat do you need...?" she sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"Lord Nightroad is returning this evening, and Isaak says he's bringing his brother with him to be converted. I need to know what you, Isaak, and Dietrich had planned for dinner, if anything. If not, I'll just put something nice together myself."
"If Isaak and Dietrich did not tell you vat to make specifically... Zen you can make vatever comes to mind... Verstehst du?" ((Do you understand?)) He nodded once, turned on his heel, and left her standing at her bedroom door. She returned to lay on her bed, swearing and muttering under her breath. Naturally, an incident like that was only going to happen in her dreams. The only other person Cain ever really paid any attention to was Isaak... But... His brother was coming too? He was also a Krusnik, she supposed... And Cain's identical twin. The more she thought about it, the better this situation became. Cain may not pay much attention to her, but she knew Abel had had a lover before... A female lover. She smiled a little. Perhaps this wasn't over yet... If she couldn't have one of them, why shouldn't the other be hers? After all, she was ranked after Isaak, and Dietrich wasn't in this equation at all. Helga rose in a hurry, dashing off to her bathroom to ready herself for this evening.
"My, my, Helga, you look particularly stunning this evening," Isaak smiled. She chuckled softly, tossing her bouncing ringlet curls, blowing Isaak a flirtatious kiss through vibrantly rouged lips.
"Danke, Isaak," she said. She took her seat, crossing her legs, managing to show quite a lot of them off. Dietrich rolled his eyes from his chair, but she ignored him. After all, why would she be unhappy when she just might be getting her wish of a Krusnik lover? She nearly leaped from her chair when she heard the front doors open, standing as she always did when her Lord entered the room. The rest of the Order did the same, except Isaak, who went to open the door for Cain and Abel. The sight that met them was far from what Helga was expecting to see.
Cain strode through, his perfectly ordered clothing deeply contrasted by the dark-robed man he had slung over his shoulder. A closer look confirmed that it was Abel hanging over his shoulder, unconscious. Cain looked right at her, lifting a gold-clawed fingertip to beckon her to come closer. Slightly surprised, she did,
"Vat is it, Mein Herr?"
"Abel will be staying in my room, with me. As it is with Isaak and I, you will be my brother's caretaker, since he's inclined to women. You will fulfill every need he has, and when he needs Methuselah blood and we have no other source, you will be it. No one may touch him but you, myself, and Isaak. Any questions?"
"N-nein, Mein Herr!" her voice nearly squeaked with her excitement, and she nearly jumped and squealed her happiness, as it was nearly a dream come true... Only nearly because it had been Cain who she had first fallen for, but somehow she knew she could love Abel just as much, if not more. "I... Oh, I could faint..." she chuckled, putting her hand on her chest, feeling so excellently lightheaded.
"Good," Cain smiled, "Then I'll take him to my room, you can take care of him, then join us for dinner. He's just recovering after his feeding, so he'll be fine by later tonight. Come with me." She and Isaak followed the two Krusnik to Cain's lavishly decorated room, the furniture of hand-carved European style furniture. He lay Abel on the bed on his back, and Isaak removed Cain's cape, draping it over the chair in front of the fire place. "We'll leave you to it, then," Cain smiled once more, and with an affectionate stroking of Isaak's hair, the two of them exited the room, leaving her alone with the former priest.
She looked him over, taking him in. She'd never seen him before, and she supposed he had been in better shape than he was now, but it would be easy enough for her to fix. She removed his shattered glasses, removed the bow from his silver hair, and searched the room until she found a brush, running it through the Krusnik's hair a few times until it shone as much as it could, though he was splotched with soot. He'd need a bath, but that could come later.
Did Isaak take baths with Cain?
Straightening him out, she smiled at him, sliding the cover from around his shoulders, and the gloves from his hands, leaving him in only his black priest's robe. She lifted the rosary from his neck, laying it on the bedside table, removed his heavy shoes, and stroked his pallid cheek.
"Sie sind so schön..." she muttered softly, and it was true... He really was beautiful. Just like Cain, he radiated immortal beauty and perfection. A shame she couldn't stay for a bit longer. She headed back down to the dining hall reluctantly.
Later, she, Cain, and Isaak left the table, both to check on Abel, and to get ready for bed. When they arrived in Cain's room, the bed was empty, but Abel's clothes still rested upon it.
"Oh, good. He's awake," Cain smiled, "Bathing, I'm sure."
"Cain?" they heard his voice from the bathroom, "Is... Is that you?" Cain opened the bathroom door, and stepped in,
"Yes, and Isaak, too. Abel, this is Helga," she took that as her cue to enter, and did, finding a rather delicious sight before her. It turned out, that, like the Cain in her dream, Abel was fairly muscular. More so than she would have expected from a priest. He was soaking wet, standing in the bathtub, which was just deep enough so the bubbles resting on the water came just up past his hips. His long hair hung free and shone like moonlight after being freshly washed, his striking blue eyes finding her and looking her over with slight curiosity. She smiled at him. "She will take care of you, like Isaak does for me. Anything you want is hers to grant. Would you mind if I joined you?" The tub was big enough to fit seven people, and still have plenty of room.
"No... go ahead." He took a seat at the side of the tub, and, to Helga's complete shock and surprise, Cain unclasped his robe, and handed it off to Isaak. Then, he tugged off the gray, form-fitting shirt and black pants, unbuckling and kicking off his boots before slipping into the water. Helga swallowed hard. Good lord they were beautiful. Cain turned to look back at them,
"You are welcome to join if you wish. Both of you." Helga glanced at Isaak. If he did, then she would too. Though, being alone with two gorgeous men never hurt anything either, and she wasn't the least bit shy or worried about modesty if she didn't have to be. Isaak smiled,
"With pleasure." Abel had turned away from them, his arms resting on the side of the tub, his silver head on top of them. Both Helga and Isaak stripped their uniforms, and sank into the water, Isaak immediately going to Cain's arms as he was seized in the Krusnik's grasp. Cain pulled Isaak onto his lap, and Abel turned just in time to see the two of them kiss, Cain's fingers tightly knotted in Isaak's hair. Helga's eyes widened, and she adjusted in her seat near Abel, crossing her legs in a very jittery manner. No, it didn't bother her. On the contrary, she found it rather arousing to watch them, and had half the mind to use her new privileges to watch the two of them alone together. She didn't remember ever hearing from anyone how far those two went, but by the way their tongues slid together between their sealed lips she guessed it could be all the way. She shuddered, imagining herself with Abel now. She could only imagine the pleasure.
"You know, Cain... I would never have guessed you'd like men like you do him."
"Mmm..." they pulled apart, "Well, I decided long ago that I wasn't going to fix on one sex. Isaak just happens to be a man. He happened to like men, so it worked out, didn't it?" Isaak chuckled softly, leaning on Cain's chest. Helga desired to be that close to Abel, but she knew it was going to take time before they were anywhere near as close as those two. They had been together for more than twenty years.
As Isaak relaxed his back against Cain, Cain slipped his arm around the Methuselah's waist. Apparently he did something with the hand that was submerged—the one they couldn't see—because Isaak twitched and gasped softly, blushing a brilliant red that Helga never would have thought him capable of. Cain chuckled and nuzzled him affectionately, then reached out to touch the reclusive Abel on the shoulder. He looked up.
"What?"
"I know you've always been quiet, but you don't have to be for me. You never were before. Join us Abel." Helga touched his shoulder gently, and he jumped, turning to look at her,
"I'm sorry... I just... I'm trying to adjust... It's difficult..." he shook his head, hiding behind his curtain of silver hair.
"Herr Abel, I vill do anysing you ask of me. If you need somesing, just tell me und I vill get it." Abel sighed,
"I don't know if I could do that."
"Of course you could. Ask her to... Rub your shoulders. It'll relax you," Cain smiled. Abel seemed to contemplate it a little, and sighed,
"No, not that... Helga... Would you play with my hair...?" he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "I like it when women do, but... Most won't. They think it's awkward for a man to have hair like this and not be gay... Being a priest lately hasn't helped either."
"Of course I vill!" She looked rather astounded at his statement. His hair was so shiny and silver like moonlight, no doubt soft when it was dry and brushed. Helga scooted closer to him, sitting behind him, and reached up to run her fingertips through his silver mane. Abel actually smiled a little when she buried her fingers in it, combing them through it, and scratching his scalp. He was soon nodding off and completely relaxed, and Helga felt relaxed just watching him, so she leaned across his back, resting her head between his shoulder blades. Abel didn't protest, so she looped her arms around his waist.