Life Asked Death, Why Do People Love Me And Hate You?
Death Responded, Because You Are A Beautiful Lie and I'm A Painful Truth.


A girl of twenty watched as her husband choked on his own blood. The red ribbons flowed thickly from his open throat and mouth while his eyes stared terrified. This was how she found him on their bed, and this was where he would die.

"No. Please, no. Max..." Her sobs punctuated the terrible noises her prince made, as if to compete for the most horrific. The girl's hand instinctively went to her swollen belly as the son within kicked and agonized as well. He will not have a father. The thought made her sob even harder.

Her front was soaked in the blood of the man she had wed only two short years ago. The marriage had been out of love as much as for political gain.

They lived in a castle of stone and ice, at least that was what Max had told her it was made out of; the winter months were so terrible that Max had often joked that they were a pair of penguins who lived in a palace of ice and snow. Max had liked to joke, and he had liked to make his wife smile.

When the discovery came that they would be having a child, the Prince of Castamere threw a party to honor his princess.

Aurelia had been seated on a throne of gold, her pale hair adorned with a crown of flowers and lace, and her newly pregnant form wearing a gown of purple silk. Max had gathered musicians and acrobats and enough food to feed an army while everyone Aurelia had ever known kissed her and wished her endless good fortune. It is a boy, that was what the psychic had told her when she had rested her hand palm down on Aurelia's still-flat stomach. You will have a son with the same vigor for life as your honored husband.

And they would be happy. That was what Aurelia had promised herself from that day on; now several months later. But everything was dark now, and her honored husband lay so close to death in front of her.

She clasped his hand slick with blood and held it fast to her own cheek. He was barely breathing now and so terribly pale, but Aurelia swore she felt his hand squeeze her own. And then he was gone.

His lovely dark eyes stared lifelessly as Aurelia buried her face in the crook of his arm, not daring to care about the blood that would surely stain her.

Let it, she thought, let them see the blood that has been shed this night. Let them see me wearing what I have lost to their dark ambitions. For the world outside was raging, and it didn't seem like the invaders had plans on stopping soon.

Screams and flames and the smell of death rose from the night air and in through the window of the bedroom, but still the princess did not move.

There she lay beside the body of her lost love, listening to the sounds of war while stroking her pregnant belly. A tune rose up from her, one that her own mother used to sing in those frightening times of Aurelia's childhood. She hummed to her son a song that was meant to be comforting but only sounded lonely here; and more of her people died outside of her walls.

Time passed in a vortex. It was never quiet these long night hours while nameless invaders slaughtered the islanders into extinction.

They had never even seen those ships approaching; they hadn't noticed anything wrong at all until it was too late. Sounds from inside the castle walls roused her from her waking nightmare. Shouts and orders and the voices of men.

Only one of two things could happen to her next: they would discover her, rape her, and likely kill her; or they would discover her, rape her, and take her prisoner. Only to kill her later.

She could not let her son- Max's son- be born into a life of imprisonment. With grimness in her heart she faced her husband and closed his eyes, knowing that she would never see the way they looked at her again. Next she leaned close and pressed her lips to his for the last time. The coldness of them would linger for a lifetime.

The sword she had found on the scene had belonged to Max, and it had been used to kill him in cold blood while Aurelia had hidden in the toilet on his own command. She lifted it now and saw her raw eyes reflected in the steel. It was heavy but not impossible; nothing was impossible when it came to surviving.

They were coming. The footfalls grew closer but they were strangely hushed. Whoever opened that door would find quite the sight; and they did:

A very pregnant young woman stood guard with a sword much too large in hand. Her hair and face were stained with blood, and the front of her dress was soaked through sticking to the protrusion below her heavy breasts.

Hooded figures, three of them, encircled her and she screamed the way she had heard fighters do. With one heavy swing of steel, Aurelia put her weight into a slash for the center figure, and with one easy movement the stranger caught the blade with a bare hand that stopped it in its tracks.

Aurelia let go, and so did the other. Its hand had been cut to the bone and dark blood flowed freely.

The other cloaks stood as though they were only shadows. And impossibly so, but before the girl's own eyes, the deep wound that should have left a nasty scar healed to perfection. Her eyes flashed petrified while the mouth in the hood grinned.

There was a blur. Then there was nothing.


"They fought but in the end, sadly they all died." The raven man liked these silly proclamations; these words like a eulogy he hadn't been asked to give.

It was a part of a game he amused himself with in his impossibly old age; or perhaps he had always been doing this.

Enormous fires threatened to engulf the entire castle in one whole gulp but they would burn for many hours, well into the gray of morning. No one would be able to tell what happened here; it would be a tragedy but an inexplicable one. That was exactly what they needed.

The two males watched the flames eat at the evidence, the corpses, and their lost livelihoods. The stench was unbearable but it was what the undead had grown accustomed to; an existence filled with sweet and pleasant things was unattainable and undesirable for them.

The younger of the two began to think that he would need to rid himself of this cloak as soon as possible.

It still bore the blood and smoke of a night's worth of war, and this burning rot was not making it any better. Ash filled wind ruffled his unkempt hair and stung his pale eyes but the boy watched on; he would not move until his elder did.

The thing about that was, Korun was particularly fond of watching destruction; almost as much as he enjoyed participating in it. The ancient man lay somewhere between entirely pragmatic and absolutely insane. There was really no telling which side of the coin you were bound to get when you involved yourself with a man who fashioned himself 'Russell Edgington'.

He claimed the name made him sound more human, more modern; that it did but it was no true fit for a creature with a loyal following of ravens. The birds were always flocking to him, sitting atop his hunched shoulders and crying for attention. Legend surrounded this phenomenon in the form of rumors that Korun was a raven himself in a past life, or that these birds were the souls of those he had slain. If the latter was the case, there would be many more ravens flying about the head of the Druid.

It was undoubtedly apparent that the man and these birds shared a striking resemblance: Korun had hair as dark as midnight although it was sparse in places, his eyes were equally as dark and beady, while his face was rather bird-like with a nose that looked like a beak in some shadows; even his voice had a shrillness to it when possessed with anger. Whatever the reason, these birds seemed to go wherever Russell Edgington went and by now he had come to see them as pets.

One large black male whom Korun seemed to favor landed on the man's shoulder now, and he produced a piece of corn for it.

"Only one was recovered." He spoke to his younger companion. "The one I told you about. There was a bit of an- inconvenience but that has been taken care of."

The ancient boy looked at him wordlessly with eyes despairing. Korun began again.

"Do not change your mind now. Even if you could, what's done is done and we made a deal. My words aren't useless, Godric he spoke in the old tongue.

The boy called Godric drew his hood up over his head to signal that he wanted to leave. He watched as Korun smiled proudly at the mess he had made before granting them the opportunity to leave. They left the island burning and raven-ridden. A calling card of Death.

The nest was already full upon their return. The youngest vampires offered up their wrists to the incoming ancients but Godric brushed them off. He was not hungry and hadn't been in many moons; at least not for the blood of his own kind.

There were rituals in this group that bothered the boy and he no longer hid his distaste for them. Feeding on the youngest and using them like sex slaves, luring too many humans into the lair, burning everything- for fuck's sake why did they burn everything?

But he sat cross-legged beside his only progeny and watched the blond creature slurp blood from a chalice. Was that meant to make them feel civilized?

Russell was the leader here, and what he said and desired happened, and if he had a fancy for expensive human belongings then they were procured. The entire nest was stuffed with these trappings, the things that denoted a human's wealth; as Russell was known to target the wealthy almost exclusively.

Godric was the only vampire who could question Russell; challenge him. But when the subject of the necessity of this finery was brought up, Russell shut Godric down by pointing out that the boy had made a Viking prince for a progeny. So in that way and many others, the younger one simply allowed his elder to do as he pleased.

It was not all unfortunate for Godric as it was; he was keeper of a large land not far, and only occasional dealings with Russell made his rule interrupted. The latest deal was precisely the reason for this visit.

Korun had already settled his form in the throne he had crafted from bones and feathers and what looked like vampire fangs. They were, but no one was allowed to ask why.

Others gathered around at the silent command of their nest leader to hear the latest news. Everyone in attendance was keen to learn what had become of the once prosperous Castamerian island; now that the army of undead had paid a visit.

Korun lifted his arms theatrically (nearly everything the man did was in the name of drama) and announced the fall of the 'last stronghold to discover them'.

The thing was, any human discrepancies in their territory were considered a threat by law and land of the undead.

Unfortunately for a small group of knights from the island, they had stumbled upon the nest and lived to tell the tale. That meant any and all of their homes and neighborhoods could be infected with the slander of men and women who drank blood and coupled openly beneath the night sky.

Plus, Korun was nearly always looking for another empire to topple.

Now he turned his and everyone else's attention to Godric who sat with eyes darkened by the shadows.

"I have secured a most precious alliance; positively unheard of in the history of our kind." There was no way to prove the accuracy of that statement.

"One has made it into our ranks by my own hands."

The entire nest exchanged glances of curiosity and confusion. Perhaps they were wondering why their leader had his gaze fixed solely on his second-in-command.

"A deal has been struck between myself and our Lord of the Forest." Korun extended his hand towards Godric, whom he liked to give such a nickname to; even if it felt like a mockery of the land the boy governed.

"Many of you know the opposing forces we have from the South; the seat of our enemies will not sit still until they have secured the land we all know belongs to Godric. They have a claim to it, but we now have a stronger one." Korun allowed the suspense to thicken in the air, piling on the dramatics. His dark eyes held on to Godric's as he knew the reveal would be so sweet.

"The Lord of the Forest will take on a Lady; a wife of mine own blood to secure his claim."

The energy in the space shifted towards Godric as most waited for him to react while others, his own progeny included, granted the ancient his needed reprieve from the hailstorm of probing eyes.

Now Korun laughed to see his near-equal squirm beneath this scrutiny.

He thought it would shame the younger vampire to make him go through this ordeal: either obey the offer given or live in the nest under constant control. Godric would take his freedom any given chance after what he had gone through as a much younger vampire; he would not live under Russell's thumb.

Whatever it cost him, Godric would always live a life that was his own.


The bath was warm, and yet its occupant still shivered.

She had been sitting in this deep tub for close to an hour but still felt filthy.

A kind woman who had been attending to her lifted the girl's hand from the water and began to scrub under the nails with a brush. Neither woman spoke much at all to each other for each knew the circumstances here were sorrowful. The maid exchanged one hand for the other while the girl remained limp.

Aurelia could not touch her own body, nor could she hardly stand to look at it at all. Here in the bath she kept her eyes unfocused and her shoulders hunched while the unnamed woman did everything for her.

Apparently she had been here for close to a week; some sort of prisoner from what she could gather. Apparently she had slept for three straight days and nights, and upon her waking was told that she had been found terribly close to death. Only the girl quickly discovered that she already was dead.

Of only two things she was certain of: her home was lost to her, and so was her unborn baby. She hadn't needed to check the status of her stomach; she felt her son's absence from the very moment she rose from her coma-like slumber. Oh how she had desperately wanted to cry and scream and beg the Gods, but it seemed as though Aurelia Marius had no more tears left to cry; or perhaps it was because she was dead now that she cried no longer.

Her body simultaneous felt the strongest and weakest it had ever felt; the one time she dared face her reflection she saw that her skin and hair had more vitality as well. To her it mattered no longer how she looked on the outside if her insides were a tumultuous storm of agony.

The female attendant took hold of Aurelia's arm now. "Up now, girl. You've been in there for too long." Her voice was accented in a way Aurelia did not recognize but it was kind all the same.

The young woman rose from the old porcelain tub without modesty while the caretaker wrapped her body in a long cloth. Then she led the former princess to a chair where she seated her and brushed through the tangles in her long, colorless hair.

Aurelia sat silently, allowing herself to be poked and prodded like a life-size doll as her hair was braided into a mockery of a crown. Then she lifted her arms as instructed while the maid dressed her in a gown of embroidered green silk. It was lovely, and Aurelia would have said she thought so if she hadn't felt so numb.

Her servant stepped back to admire her work and balled her fists on her hips. "Smile, girl. Everything could be much worse for you."

A sharp rapping on the closed door roused the woman away from her gentle scolding and she went to attend to that instead.

Aurelia heard the door open and the female speak in a language she did not understand. Suddenly she reappeared with another person in tow. The look she gave Aurelia was much more firm now. "Stand and show yourself to Lord Korun now, child." And she stepped aside to show the man who had been standing behind her.

Aurelia rose from her chair as if pulled by an invisible line; the feeling was strong and deep in the center of her abdomen. Like a magnet her eyes were drawn to the stranger's and she saw how black they were.

This man called Korun was as black of hair as he was of gaze; his face was pointed and unkind, and his fingers were filled with gaudy rings of different shapes and sizes. Perhaps the most striking thing about him was the large black bird that rested on his thin shoulder and peered at Aurelia with greedy little eyes.

Korun wore an expression somewhat like pride as he smirked at the girl in front of him. "Much better now than the first time I saw you; covered in blood and carrying an extra twenty pounds around your middle."

Aurelia froze as bile rose in her throat, but before a reaction could happen the raven keeper produced something from the pocket of his velvety black cloak and grabbed Aurelia's hand. She gasped from the force as the man slid a wooden ring on her index finger. They both turned their eyes down to study it and Aurelia saw it was delicately painted in colors of plum and gold feathers; it would have been a kind gesture had she understood it.

Korun held on to Aurelia's hand despite her deep desire to be free of his grasp. There was something too intimate between them and it scared her.

"My first gift of the night to my new blood." The way he looked at her seemed almost fatherly, but his eyes were much too cold to be believable. Still, Aurelia hadn't a single clue as to what was going on, who this man was, or what he meant by 'new blood'; any talk of blood made her want to break out in a cold sweat.

Now he led her by the same confined hand to the tall mirror she had been avoiding all night. He faced her towards it and stood behind her; he was short, barely much taller than she.

Now Aurelia looked at the sad woman in front of her; her entire reflection. While her hair and dress were as lovely as ever, the pale face was quite ghastly: lips swollen and eyes tinged red with dark circles beneath them. She had always been called a beautiful girl, but this one she looked upon hardly fit that part; she looked quite dead.

"That gown is my second gift to you this night," Korun continued as his reflected self pointed at the dark green masterpiece. It was expertly embroidered with a pattern of pale pink flowers and rich violet leaves. At the sleeves' hems were real raven's feathers, and the bodice was styled with golden thread that dipped into a cleavage much lower than she was accustomed to.

Korun was leaning in so close that his head was practically resting on Aurelia's shoulder.

"This is a very special night for you and I both," he told her ear. "I've given you new life and now you will give me something very important in return." Immediately the girl felt a large lump rise in her throat as she choked back fearful tears. What did he want with her, and what was he planning on doing to her?

Suddenly everything was making sense: the bath, the gifts, the way he looked at her. She was a prisoner of war and he was her captor. All of this pleasantry was just a sick game; a way for him to feel better about violating her.

Aurelia squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to block out her disturbing thoughts. She felt like crying again but knew that no tears would come; and perhaps tears would only make this man angry and violent.

"Please." Her voice shuddered. "Please just kill me." Because she had silently been asking for death for days now, and it was time for her to be with her husband and son again.

Her blue eyes opened to see Korun's face floating before them; he almost looked sympathetic. "Oh, Aurelia don't you understand?" He had her by the shoulders, his rings digging into her skin and bones. "I already have killed you."


The meeting hall was thick with incense; the ethereal scent of sandalwood floating above the heads of a dozen or so vampires. For the most part the nest had been cleared for tonight's procession save for those Korun deemed necessary to act as witness. Among them was Eric Northman, who had been watching his maker pace the length of the room like an animal trapped in a cage; in some literal way he was.

The tall Viking sat with one long leg crossed over the other, his silky golden hair tied back with a leather thong. When he spoke to Godric he hoped his words would be taken as inoffensively as possible: "You allowed Korun to talk you into an arranged marriage? His control over you has gone on for too long." But Godric turned on his progeny and granted him a look of severe warning; this was not the setting to be speaking ill of Korun.

He could tell that Eric had more on his mind; likely more words of slander but Godric would not entertain them at this time. What's done is done. He looked at his childe as though to convey his thoughts: I made a deal; one bound in blood. You know the blood never lies, Eric. I cannot turn back now; not on Korun. Because the consequences of betraying a vampire as old and powerful as he were surely fatal, and Godric was not through existing yet.

It was only marriage. He had never before participated in, let alone fancied such a thing but the landscape of the undead had become impossibly political. Power struggles were everything, and Godric was much too old to get away with not participating. Besides, he enjoyed his seat in the realm and did not want to see it taken from him by another. He was a good ruler and his people respected him; even loved him.

And this girl would understand the nature of this union surely; she had been a royal in her past life, and had experience with power. That was exactly why Russell had made a preference of her. He had also claimed that she was young and fair to look upon, but vampires were hardly ever monogamous and neither could expect that of one another. This woman may be a newborn but she would learn quickly at the side of Godric of Gaul.

Now Eric was flipping a small dagger in his hand, catching it blade over hilt as his face was fixed in silent contemplation. He turned that thinking over to his maker: What if she is the one to break it off, does that count? What if she cannot bear your strange habits or your keenness for long periods of solitude and begs Korun to find another purpose for her?

Godric fixed a dangerous look for Eric: so you're saying that I am so unbearable that a girl of mere twenty will break a blood oath just to get away from me? Then he put on a chagrined smile. They may never find happiness with each other but the Lord of the Forest was willing to grant his future wife a home, food, and freedom; that was much more than he had had coming into this undead world.

If you're lucky she will have a similar taste for unreadable scripts and an off-putting collection of artifacts of war. Eric's teasing thoughts entered Godric's mind again. The boy was a bit strange, even for vampire standards; which in this case meant that he had a strong desire to learn and study from any source he could; most of his undead counterparts were not as selfless.

Whatever else Eric had to say to taunt his maker would have to wait now, for the entrance to the hall was now filled with the dark forms of Korun and his favorite raven.

The nest master wore a smug smile that told everyone in the room that he knew the secret they were all waiting to hear. Godric stopped his pacing and froze with a grim expression on his youthful face. As Korun stepped towards him, everyone else in the space stepped back like a sort of dance; they were merely spectators, and they wanted to get the best view.

Korun and Godric studied each other for any signs of what the other may be thinking, but this was a duel that would have easily lasted an eternity if the raven hadn't screeched its impatience. Korun clucked his tongue at the intelligent animal perched on his shoulder and told it, "you are so concerned for our friend Godric. That is sweet of you." The bird hopped as if it understood its master before turning its beady eyes on Godric, who sneered at it. Korun's ravens did not like the boy for whatever reason; they seemed to know exactly who their owner's true fans were.

"I know who in this room is even more concerned for Godric though," Korun sang. "But he shouldn't be. Your bride-to-be is lovely. I made sure of it." And Godric could trust that Korun had. If the elder had anything to account for, it was his eye for beauty. It seemed that he made up for his own ugly soul by surrounding himself with exquisiteness.

When he turned back to the entryway a female maid appeared with a young thing in a well-fitting gown. The two women approached, the younger seemingly being pushed along by the servant as she tried not to look at anything that wasn't her own two feet.

The girl was deposited at Korun's side. Now Godric could see her for the first time; this woman who was meant to become his bride. The daughter of the raven man.

Korun knew that Godric was looking, perhaps waiting, and he placed a hand under the girl's chin to force her face upward but still her eyes remained low. He laughed at the challenge this presented and leaned into his progeny's ear to warn her, "do not be disobedient now, I'm telling you. I still have one last thing to gift you with." And he yanked on the back of her hair until she had no choice but to look at Godric.

Perhaps what was most impressive was the way she remained a statue under the undoubtedly strong hold of Russell Edgington, but Godric was expected to appraise her and tell Korun that he approved. It was another game that the raven lord enjoyed playing; objectifying humans and new vampires for sport, and almost always his targets were women. It was well-known in this circle that Korun did not see women equal to men, and even more well-known that he prefered the sexual company of men exclusively.

With hands concealed behind his back, Godric approached the woman in his host's grasp and looked into her eyes. They were quite nearly the same color as his but countless years younger. Her hair was strikingly pale like the moon, and her body was very feminine in shape; healthy as the way a royal human's would be. On all counts she could be considered very attractive, and Godric could see how Korun would suspect her a good pick.

"Do you have a name?" He asked her. Nothing.

The young woman stared down her nose in the only way she could with her head forced back but she did not speak.

Now Godric turned his face to Korun.

"Her name is Aurelia Marius, but you can call her whatever the hell you like." He was obviously annoyed with his progeny's disobedient behavior, as he had been hoping she would cooperate without his command.

"Then I'll call her Aurelia." Godric tried a small smile for Aurelia. "And please Korun, release your hand on her if you could. It's not as if she has anywhere to go." He thought that would appease his elder, which it did as his hand fell away from the girl's hair ruining the careful style in the process.

Aurelia no longer stared at her feet, but instead chose to look at the boy in front of her.

"You're young," she stated.

To which Godric replied, "not nearly as young as you."

That seemed to either satisfy or baffle the girl as she discontinued any possible further conversation. Now Korun addressed the room: "it is nigh time to make this engagement official."

Quickly enough the pair were dominating the center of the room, both facing Korun. He was looking smug again as he surveyed the chaos he had created; sending two existences into an eternal struggle.

Damnation at the hands of the other. It was no doubt that these two could and would hurt each other and Korun was near giddy at the mere prospect of that.

"Those we have gathered in witness here this night, take the promises made by this couple to your daytime graves, and do not let them forget what they swore to one another now." That was their cue: "I give myself to this being in blood and honor." Godric and Aurelia spoke in quiet unison. And suddenly they were traditionally promised.

Neither could bare to grant any more words or looks to the other as they parted for the remainder of the night.

Aurelia found Korun privately and melted into her misery. "I don't want to marry him," she lamented.

For a moment, Korun looked agreeable with his mouth turned down into a frown and his brows creased in concern.

A flicker of hope ignited in Aurelia's chest at this sight, thinking that perhaps she had misjudged this man. His thin hand came to rest upon her delicate cheek, the thumb even stroking the skin there as a loving father might.

"Aurelia," his voice was smooth like honey. "I would let everyone in this nest fuck you if it meant that my power remained intact."

Then he turned away from her in a motion of feathers and black wool.


[FOOTNOTES]

1. "Korun" is thought to be Russell Edgington's original name as according to the Wikia page.

2. "Castamere" is the name of the island where Aurelia comes from. It is fictional.


AN: Thank-you for reading the first chapter! Please leave feedback of any kind, and check back often for updates.