Sethra 1
By: vampfire
A.N. A recent theme in my sci-fi/fantasy reading has been vampires and, well, Sethra was too tempting. This is just a fragment with no discernible plot. I'm interested to see what you Vlad fans think. (Believe it or not, I used to actually come up with titles for my stories. Sigh.) This part is R.
Disclaimer: Only the poor taste and bad writing are mine; the world and characters belong to Steven Brust. Let me take a moment to gush about Steven Brust's writing, since I originally forgot to write a disclaimer and also to atone for what I do with SB's characters later on in this series. The Vlad novels were great. They had it all: an awesome world to play in, enormously likeable characters, sarcastic reptiles, interesting plots, and some of the wittiest, funniest dialogue and narrative ever. But what really earned my respect for SB's talent was reading the pre-Vlad novels and watching him take something that he'd made as legendary as Adron's Disaster and completely living up to it and then some.
Morrolan looked up in surprise as Sethra re-entered the library. He refrained from asking the obvious 'forget something?' as she crossed the room to his chair and stopped, hands folded serenely behind her back.
"I cannot return to Dzur Mountain," she said, voice even.
Morrolan blinked for a moment in stunned silence. "Cannot?"
The Enchantress inclined her head, no longer meeting his eyes. "He is stronger than I gave him credit for. I should not have left the Mountain in my current state."
A sense of icy dread began at the small of Morrolan's back and spread outward in all directions. He did not ask Sethra exactly what her 'current state' was, but had an aching suspicion that he already knew. There had been times, throughout their long acquaintance, that Sethra had looked even paler than usual and that, after a short absence, she had returned looking revitalized. This had always been in Dzur Mountain, however. Away from it, she merely looked pale.
"Can I help?" he asked. "Surely the two of us combined could break through the teleport block, or whatever it is that he has done."
Sethra continued to avoid his eyes in a way she never did, having the courage of both a Dragon and a Dzur. "Yes, you can help," she said quietly.
Morrolan licked his lips, suddenly feeling something not unlike fear twisting in his stomach.
She continued, "I need to regain my strength before I can defeat the measures he has taken. Then, once I am in the Mountain, I will be able to take care of him as we had planned."
Gathering the courage of a Dragonlord and a herd of dzur, Morrolan stood and said in a surprisingly even voice, "Tell me what I must do."
Sethra finally met his eyes. She looked just as uneasy as he did, which both reassured him and terrified him. "It would be best... if we could go to your rooms."
They strode side by side through the corridors, Morrolan's fingers drifting to touch the hilt of Blackwand for reassurance. He knew, though his conscious mind would not yet admit it, what they were going to do. Sethra was undead. Thanks to an often-regretted conversation with the Necromancer, Morrolan knew there were a limited number of ways for the undead to gain power. Only one of those ways could have anything to do with Morrolan's private rooms.
Morrolan automatically hung his sword on the wall by the door after entering his bedchamber. Sethra flicked a glance at the wall and hung Iceflame beside Blackwand. They stood uneasily in the center of the room, doors closed behind them.
"Do you know what I will ask of you?" Sethra asked without preamble.
Morrolan caught himself from saying 'no' and answered honestly, "Perhaps."
Sethra sighed and turned slightly to pace away in agitation. "There are not so many ways for me to regain my strength... Away from Dzur Mountain, I know of only one, and it is not something I have to do often..." She paused by the bed and took a deep breath. "There are many inaccurate myths about vampires. The drinking of blood is not one of them."
"I see," said Morrolan, walking up to her. Her obvious discomfort with the subject had eased his own. "Sethra, it would be very bad for everyone involved if this wizard is able to keep you away from Dzur Mountain long enough to invade. We will all do what is necessary to avoid that."
She gave him a smile. "Sit down, Morrolan," she told him quietly.
He did, heart pounding. She joined him on the edge of the bed and reached to unbutton the collar of his black dress shirt, proceeding down the buttoned front in a businesslike manner. Morrolan sat stoically with the shirt parted down the front, still tucked in, until she said conversationally, "It's a nice shirt, Morrolan; it would be a shame to spill blood onto it."
Morrolan flushed slightly and hastened to pull the shirt off. He turned to her expectantly as though awaiting a blow, and Sethra gave him a more genuine smile, mirthful and slightly mischievous. "You will not find this unpleasant, I believe."
Without giving him time to ponder that comment, she leaned in as if to kiss him. He felt the cool touch of her lips on the soft skin of his neck, then a sharp sudden pain.
Morrolan cried out, jerking against Sethra and requiring her arms to come around and hold him still. The pain, to say the least, was completely gone. Or rather, it was completely unnoticeable in the sudden onslaught of arousal. Morrolan leaned into Sethra's embrace, shivering uncontrollably as lust rippled through his body.
He was only vaguely aware that her lips were still sealed to his neck, that her arms around his naked torso were tight, urgently holding him to her so that she could continue.
Morrolan discovered through the haze of pleasure that his eyes were open, that his vision was unfocused upon the ceiling. He could tell that he was spread back across the bed, that Sethra clutched him and drained his life away through his neck. But all this was secondary to the insistent need flooding his veins, provoking impossible sensations over every inch of his body. The pleasure spiraled ever upward, and suddenly he was closer to losing control than should have been possible in the mere moments that Sethra had been doing this to him.
His back arched and his thoughts conflicted, shouting both "Yes, now!" and "Gods, stop!" Perhaps both had been delivered with the mental intensity necessary to become psionic communication, because at that moment Sethra released his neck.
The crisis passed, and awareness of the world slowly returned as Morrolan's body calmed from its unnatural peak. He felt Sethra's arms leave his burning skin, felt her sit up from her reclined position, where she'd been curled against his side. After a moment, Morrolan discovered he had enough motor control to sit up as well.
His eyes met hers, his expression completely unguarded. "Are you..." he cleared his throat, "Has your strength returned?"
"It has," she said, and he could see it then. She looked radiant, vivid, alive... seductive, beautiful...
She stood abruptly then, as if she'd read his thoughts. "Morrolan," she told him, "I am in your debt. For now, I must return to the Mountain and mount a defense. I will send word."
She crossed the room to gather Iceflame then vanished in a teleport.
Morrolan stared at the spot where she'd stood for several moments before allowing his weakened body to fall back until he was once again lying on the bed. He studied the ceiling distractedly as he tried to explain to himself what had just happened.
By: vampfire
A.N. A recent theme in my sci-fi/fantasy reading has been vampires and, well, Sethra was too tempting. This is just a fragment with no discernible plot. I'm interested to see what you Vlad fans think. (Believe it or not, I used to actually come up with titles for my stories. Sigh.) This part is R.
Disclaimer: Only the poor taste and bad writing are mine; the world and characters belong to Steven Brust. Let me take a moment to gush about Steven Brust's writing, since I originally forgot to write a disclaimer and also to atone for what I do with SB's characters later on in this series. The Vlad novels were great. They had it all: an awesome world to play in, enormously likeable characters, sarcastic reptiles, interesting plots, and some of the wittiest, funniest dialogue and narrative ever. But what really earned my respect for SB's talent was reading the pre-Vlad novels and watching him take something that he'd made as legendary as Adron's Disaster and completely living up to it and then some.
Morrolan looked up in surprise as Sethra re-entered the library. He refrained from asking the obvious 'forget something?' as she crossed the room to his chair and stopped, hands folded serenely behind her back.
"I cannot return to Dzur Mountain," she said, voice even.
Morrolan blinked for a moment in stunned silence. "Cannot?"
The Enchantress inclined her head, no longer meeting his eyes. "He is stronger than I gave him credit for. I should not have left the Mountain in my current state."
A sense of icy dread began at the small of Morrolan's back and spread outward in all directions. He did not ask Sethra exactly what her 'current state' was, but had an aching suspicion that he already knew. There had been times, throughout their long acquaintance, that Sethra had looked even paler than usual and that, after a short absence, she had returned looking revitalized. This had always been in Dzur Mountain, however. Away from it, she merely looked pale.
"Can I help?" he asked. "Surely the two of us combined could break through the teleport block, or whatever it is that he has done."
Sethra continued to avoid his eyes in a way she never did, having the courage of both a Dragon and a Dzur. "Yes, you can help," she said quietly.
Morrolan licked his lips, suddenly feeling something not unlike fear twisting in his stomach.
She continued, "I need to regain my strength before I can defeat the measures he has taken. Then, once I am in the Mountain, I will be able to take care of him as we had planned."
Gathering the courage of a Dragonlord and a herd of dzur, Morrolan stood and said in a surprisingly even voice, "Tell me what I must do."
Sethra finally met his eyes. She looked just as uneasy as he did, which both reassured him and terrified him. "It would be best... if we could go to your rooms."
They strode side by side through the corridors, Morrolan's fingers drifting to touch the hilt of Blackwand for reassurance. He knew, though his conscious mind would not yet admit it, what they were going to do. Sethra was undead. Thanks to an often-regretted conversation with the Necromancer, Morrolan knew there were a limited number of ways for the undead to gain power. Only one of those ways could have anything to do with Morrolan's private rooms.
Morrolan automatically hung his sword on the wall by the door after entering his bedchamber. Sethra flicked a glance at the wall and hung Iceflame beside Blackwand. They stood uneasily in the center of the room, doors closed behind them.
"Do you know what I will ask of you?" Sethra asked without preamble.
Morrolan caught himself from saying 'no' and answered honestly, "Perhaps."
Sethra sighed and turned slightly to pace away in agitation. "There are not so many ways for me to regain my strength... Away from Dzur Mountain, I know of only one, and it is not something I have to do often..." She paused by the bed and took a deep breath. "There are many inaccurate myths about vampires. The drinking of blood is not one of them."
"I see," said Morrolan, walking up to her. Her obvious discomfort with the subject had eased his own. "Sethra, it would be very bad for everyone involved if this wizard is able to keep you away from Dzur Mountain long enough to invade. We will all do what is necessary to avoid that."
She gave him a smile. "Sit down, Morrolan," she told him quietly.
He did, heart pounding. She joined him on the edge of the bed and reached to unbutton the collar of his black dress shirt, proceeding down the buttoned front in a businesslike manner. Morrolan sat stoically with the shirt parted down the front, still tucked in, until she said conversationally, "It's a nice shirt, Morrolan; it would be a shame to spill blood onto it."
Morrolan flushed slightly and hastened to pull the shirt off. He turned to her expectantly as though awaiting a blow, and Sethra gave him a more genuine smile, mirthful and slightly mischievous. "You will not find this unpleasant, I believe."
Without giving him time to ponder that comment, she leaned in as if to kiss him. He felt the cool touch of her lips on the soft skin of his neck, then a sharp sudden pain.
Morrolan cried out, jerking against Sethra and requiring her arms to come around and hold him still. The pain, to say the least, was completely gone. Or rather, it was completely unnoticeable in the sudden onslaught of arousal. Morrolan leaned into Sethra's embrace, shivering uncontrollably as lust rippled through his body.
He was only vaguely aware that her lips were still sealed to his neck, that her arms around his naked torso were tight, urgently holding him to her so that she could continue.
Morrolan discovered through the haze of pleasure that his eyes were open, that his vision was unfocused upon the ceiling. He could tell that he was spread back across the bed, that Sethra clutched him and drained his life away through his neck. But all this was secondary to the insistent need flooding his veins, provoking impossible sensations over every inch of his body. The pleasure spiraled ever upward, and suddenly he was closer to losing control than should have been possible in the mere moments that Sethra had been doing this to him.
His back arched and his thoughts conflicted, shouting both "Yes, now!" and "Gods, stop!" Perhaps both had been delivered with the mental intensity necessary to become psionic communication, because at that moment Sethra released his neck.
The crisis passed, and awareness of the world slowly returned as Morrolan's body calmed from its unnatural peak. He felt Sethra's arms leave his burning skin, felt her sit up from her reclined position, where she'd been curled against his side. After a moment, Morrolan discovered he had enough motor control to sit up as well.
His eyes met hers, his expression completely unguarded. "Are you..." he cleared his throat, "Has your strength returned?"
"It has," she said, and he could see it then. She looked radiant, vivid, alive... seductive, beautiful...
She stood abruptly then, as if she'd read his thoughts. "Morrolan," she told him, "I am in your debt. For now, I must return to the Mountain and mount a defense. I will send word."
She crossed the room to gather Iceflame then vanished in a teleport.
Morrolan stared at the spot where she'd stood for several moments before allowing his weakened body to fall back until he was once again lying on the bed. He studied the ceiling distractedly as he tried to explain to himself what had just happened.