40 Days
It was always those damned whispers.
Neither Oskan nor the Vampire Queen could go anywhere without those hushed conversations and gossip following them. They were like ghosts; you could always tell they were there, but they were just barely tangible. It was almost maddening to hear everyone speaking about their relationship in such a horribly wicked manner. Gossip just seemed to twist and writhe events until they were completely ugly and totally different from what really happened. Even the Vampires, who'd experienced just how badly words can damage affairs, spoke of what happened between the Witchfather and their monarch in scandalous tones.
Her Vampiric Majesty had wanted to kill Cressida after figuring out that she couldn't keep her mouth shut. Everything about that stupid girl screamed of bull-headed ignorance. There were so many things that could've happened other than the queen waltzing in on she and Oskan's first cuddly moment outside of the Blood Palace. It was horrible, thinking that every subject of both the Land-of-the-Ghosts and the Icemark thought she was an adultress.
The Vampire's keen ears had caught words such as "hussy", "adultress", and "whore" whenever she passed certain nasty chambermaids. Each new derrogative name put a new stamp of hurt on her unbeating heart. She never could manage to catch exactly who said what; if the queen had, there would be chambermaid scattered across several rooms by the time she was finished. Never mind that Oskan said don't kill or maim anyone. If one wanted to be treated like a lady, they should act like a lady. That's why Her Vampiric Majesty remained coldly aloof and seemingly unaffected by the rumors that circulated around her. Nothing was going to make her stoop to dragging a girl by her hair through the mud...except maybe someone going after Oskan or herself through physical means.
The Vampire Queen had stayed within Frostmarris for three weeks after Cressida's arising to power. Oskan had insisted that her presence would help his eldest child gain the peoples' trust more quickly. Cressida, however, was hell-bent on leaving her undead advisor at arms length. She couldn't do anything without Cressida Striking-Eagle insisting that she knew what she was doing, only to stumble and come running back for advice on how to fix the problem. Nothing was wrong with that, however; the queen found it amusing to watch the young woman stumble and get back up again.
Many of the hired hands didn't approve her presence. Neither did a majority of the housecarls and Wolf-folk. They'd sit and glower at both she and Oskan while they sat quietly, either discussing matters of State with Cressida or simply watching one of the may fires that blazed throughout the citadel. It was rather unnerving to be alone at times, especially whenever a few of the soldiers were drunk, but not many mortals caused the queen to be truly frightened. She could fight her way out of any situation if need be.
Or so she thought...
Strolling through an abandoned corridor on the outskirts of the citadel, Her Vampiric Majesty reveled in the shadows that surrounded might've been creepy to the mortals that lived in the light, but to the undead, shadows were home. At least there weren't any scathing whispers from these quiet dark places. Nothing but pure silence permeated the dusty air here. It was amazing after enduring countless hours of nothing but the damned murmurs and never-ceasing rumors to just sit back and enjoy hearing nothing but dead quiet.
Surprisingly quick heavy footfalls headed her way, setting the queen on edge. Someone very large was headed her way, and by the way those steps were shuffling and slapping, they were extremely drunk. Sure enough, out came a burly housecarl, absolutely reeking of ale and whiskey. His small, watery eyes narrowed in on her form, gleaming with intoxicated lust. The queen wrinkled her nose in disgust; men like that were just so nasty.
"Hey dollface," he slurred, voice deep and rough. "You wanna come over here and give me a kiss?"
The Vampire Queen rolled her icy blue eyes and flashed her fangs menacingly. "Quite frankly no; you smell disgusting and look no better. I'd rather kiss a fish."
Anger flashed across the exceedingly large mortal's face and he advanced on the Vampire with grace that surprised her. His hands gripped her upper arms painfully, bruising her skin, only for it to heal and bruise again. She hissed at him clawing at every inch of skin she could reach and writhing against his grasp. "Let me go you pathetic drunken cretin!"
The housecarl grinned leacherously. "I don' think so doll."
His mouth suddenly covered hers, taking Her Vampiric Majesty by surprise. That shock kept her motionless for several moments, just dangling in the air while a drunken oaf attempted to eat her face, before beginning to fight back. She bit his lip, making him cry out and jerk away quickly. Blood coated her lips, but the taste of bitter alcohol was so prevalent in the normally-sweet liquid, her stomach began to turn.
Un-bridled lust now flamed through that housecarl's eyes as he looked back up at the panting Vampire. "Kitty likes to scratch. Two can play at that game."
Without skipping a beat, the drunken man slammed her against the stone wall with enough force to make her head reel. Tears built up in her icy blue eyes as a sharp cracking sound echoed in the queen's ears; her skull had fractured. Having healing abilities was useful in situations such as this, but it wasn't enough to completely alleviate the pain. Immediately, those disgusting lips of his had enclosed on hers once more. And though she fought with every ounce of strength in his body, a booze-induced rage had given this particular mortal more than enough strength to pose a serious threat.
Only when his crushing grip went down to tear her gown did Her Vampiric Majesty begin to get truly scared. He intended to rape her. And from this position, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
Those lips of his went to her neck, where he bit down savagely, eliciting a pained/furious screech from the Vampire he was currently beating. He smiled with a drunken pleasure of sorts before slapping her harshly across the face. "You need to keep quite. Otherwise bad things will happen."
He began to tear at her undergarments, making the Vampire realize that drastic measures would have to be taken. Her arms may have been restrained, but that didn't mean her legs couldn't be used. Without thinking, the Vampire Queen kneed her assailant directly in the nose, immediately snapping it and causing him to release her. He writhed around on the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing loudly.
To be frank, queen really didn't give a rat's-ass about whether or not the housecarl was drunk. She just enjoyed watching him suffer for a moment before retreating back into the shadows she loved so dearly. Especially now, nearly indescent in her roughly-torn dress and shaking with sheer rage and shock. For the first time in the long years since her death, Her Vampiric Majesty had been almost completely helpless. It was an almost surreal thought, really.
Stumbling through corridor after dark corridor, the queen began to become aware of an almost imperceptable sting in her side. The longer she went, the worst it got, until finally she looked down at her side and realized that she'd been stabbed by something, most likely when she'd been slammed against the wall. Strange; it wasn't seeming to heal like it should be. She had a vague idea as to why; silver or another blessed metal would slow down her healing process. It was possible that she'd been stabbed by something like that during the struggle.
A frown crossed her face as the Vampire stumbled into Oskan's quarters. This was completely out of the ordinary - of course, being assaulted by a drunk man and nearly raped wasn't exactly normal either. Blurriness began to cross her vision, but she pressed on determined to change and return to Oskan as if nothing had happened at all. Sadly, that plan was faulty. One, because the Witchfather had already caught sight of her disheveled form and was currently waiting to see what would happen. And two; well...that blurriness had made her fall onto the hard stone floor.
"Dammit!"
Oskan rushed forward, lifting the still-cursing queen into his arms and placing her on his majestic four-poster. Profanity continued to spill in unending waves from her normally graceful mouth, twisting and writhing the swears in several different languages, all of which the Witchfather could speak. Apparently, all the stress had caused her to go into soldier-mode.
"Mother-fuc..!"
"Dearest! Stop swearing and tell me what happened!"
Upon hearing her lover's concerned voice, Her Vampiric Majesty froze. Tears had begun to gather in her eyes, spilling over her cheeks in hot rivers. Oskan simply kept looking down at her, noting deep black bruises and a fairly deep cut on her side that was still seeping blood. His expression softened as finally came to realize that she was shaking uncontrollably, hands clenching and unclenching against his arms as he held her.
"What happened?"
The Vampire Queen gulped. "Can we discuss this later? I just want to get changed and go to sleep."
A deep frown creased Oskan's features and he pressed her tightly against his chest. "No we may not discuss this later. You need to tell me what happened. Why are you hurt and what in the Goddess's name happened to your dress?"
More tears fell down her face, and the queen wriggled away from Oskan. She was shaking violently moving towards a chest that held her nightgowns, trying to keep her composure. "We'll talk when I get dressed," she croaked, voice hoarse.
Her Vampiric Majesty stepped behind an ornate screen, stripping off the torn gown and slipping into the silk camisole nightgown. The gash had finally started to heal, edges creeping towards each other like slowly seeping water. But bruises still stained her upper arms, reminiscent of wine on a fine tablecloth. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to block out the image of that beastly housecarl. It didn't work, so instead she leapt out from behind the changing screen in a whirlwind.
Oskan was shocked by the queen's reaction. Something about her expression, terrified beyond all comprehension even as she wrapped herself around his middle, made him begin to wonder exactly how serious her experiences had been. She clutched onto his shirt, refusing to sob, but crying all the same. They sank down into the silken sheets, Witchfather lying out and pulling his queen onto his chest, running his fingers through her hair.
"Please don't block me out, darling. Tell me what happened."
The Vampire Queen buried her face into Oskan's chest, trying to keep from sobbing as she recounted what had happened. Throughout her story, long graceful fingers continued to trace intricate patterns around the slowly fading bruises on her flesh. He remained silent, remaining relaxed in order to keep her calm. For that, the queen was very grateful. She didn't think that she could handle trying to deal with an angry warlock with Oskan's power; especially not after what had happened during that night.
When she finally finished her tale, the Witchfather kissed her atop the head and whispered, "Do you know who exactly it was who did this to you?"
Sniffling, Her Vampiric Majesty shook her head no. Oskan sighed tiredly, using his Gift to make the candle go out. It was late and this whole situation had made him tired. "We'll talk more in the morning. Why don't you try to get some rest and let those bruises heal?
Already, the Vampire Queen's icy blue eyes were beginning to droop. She pressed further into her partner's grasp and revelled not for the first time in his warmth. It was almost like a drug that one couldn't get enough of. Everything from those soft lips to his thick black hair to the fingers that reminded her of him; they drove the queen's love. Oskan might not've known it, but he was something so special that he couldn't ever comprehend it.
Another kiss was pressed to her temple and he whispered, "Goodnight dearest. Sleep well."
"Goodnight, love."
Oskan awoke in the middle of the night to something that he couldn't place. His chest was slightly compressed, but that was because Her Vampiric Majesty had snuggled against him in her sleep, head twitching fitfully. Nothing seemed out of order as far as he could tell. Majestic dresser, over-stuffed chair, the Vampire King, chest of books...
Woah, back up!
The only thing that kept the Witchfather from bolting completely upright was his lover's weight on his chest. Instead, he eased himself upwards, pulling the sleeping Vampire onto his lap like so much a doll. "What the hell? You're still in existence?"
His Vampiric Majesty moved closer, shaking his head while doing so. His voice was the same as it'd always been, only it seemed to reverberate within the warlock's head instead of him actually speaking. "No I'm not. Apparently, even the undead can gain a soul if they love someone enough."
A slight smile crossed the ghost Vampire's face as he watched his sleeping queen. Then his expression hardened. "If you harm her, mentally or physically, like that housecarl did, I swear that you will never see the end of my wrath as long as you live. Is that completely understood?"
Glancing down at the almost-peaceful beauty of the queen, Oskan nodded slowly. "You have my word, Your Majesty. I only ask that you convey to Thirrin that I still love her, even though she's gone."
Fangs flashed white in the utter complete darkness. "But of course."
And then he was gone. Nothing was there to indicate that a spirit of any kind had been present in the room. Oskan looked down at the queen once more before kissing her gently on the forehead. "I promise, as long as I'm here, nothing else will happen to you. I'll protect you, even if it kills me."
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack!
Whew! This one took a while! But I'm proud of it anyways. Thank you to madam-du-batty for all your support throughout this bat-shit crazy series. Your comments and constructive critiscism have made my thoughts come out in a somewhat more believable form.
Welp, I hope you like it!
Sincerely,
BlackRosePoetry