For You

Author's Note: I have reviews! sob

Dark and prone to violence: I have no idea why the hell there aren't any Velkan fans. He is so cool!

Morwinda: The first time I read your review, I thought you were telling me you hated it! Then I had to read it again because I'm stupid. Thanks!

On a more boring note:

Disclaimer: Blah.

Summary: Another blah.

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Chapter 4

A Little Chat

As I stood to face the man I was so deeply in love with, my grief was put on the back burner and looking the best that I possibly can was front and center. Velkan shifted his clear gray eyes from the grave to me. My cheeks burned. I knew he saw them, and I lowered my eyes. A small action. And instantly regretted. He knew I was embarrassed. Why, he could probably guess. Swallowing, I gathered up my courage and looked back up at him again. His gaze scrutinized me, and I had to look down again. I felt my hands trembling.

I was sixteen. Velkan was twenty-one. What could he see in little old me?

I opened my mouth to force some words out, but none came for the longest time. Then eventually:

"Thank you for coming, Prince," I managed after a lot of, "uh, um, so, uh, yeah, um, well, uh, and um's". I edited it for you, or else it would have been a paragraph long. Velkan was still staring at me, his jaw gruff with stubble. He smiled suddenly, and my knees felt like they were clanking together to make a beat. And my heart was the bass drum.

Prince Velkan abandoned the smile and was silent for a couple of minutes. Then he replied.

"I had to," he informed me, and I felt the breath leaving my lungs and my throat close up. After healing this injury by inhaling slowly, I turned to look at the countryside and managed a tiny "oh".

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Velkan's head bow, then snap back up as if realizing what I meant by "oh". He thought that I thought that he had been made to come. Which is what I thought. I just didn't know it was so apparent. Which, apparently, it was.

"No," Velkan said suddenly, "I didn't mean it like that, Miss, it's just that-"

"It's quite all right," I cut him off, turning around all the way so I was staring emptily at Mother's grave. "I understand," I told him, when I really didn't.

"Oh," he articulated, and stared at my back for a couple of minutes, then scuffed his boot on the ground and looked off into the woods.

"It's just that for centuries, the Valerious family has been trying to rid Transylvania from evil, but it seems that all of us have failed. We have failed ourselves. We have failed our town. We have failed our word. We have failed our people. And," he ended, "I have failed you." I whipped around, meeting the prince in the eye and seeing that his gray eyes were a pool of guilt. Turning full around, I had the strongest urge to run and take his face in my hands, to run my fingers along his jaw and comfort him. I stayed where I was.

"It's not your fault, Prince," I addressed him. He smiled, but his lips held no warmth.

Well, his lips did, the form they took, however, was not kind. It was angry.

"I am afraid, my dear girl, that, that is where you are wrong," Velkan replied, and I heard the bitterness in his tone. "It seems that all of the Valerious are failures. I hoped to change that, but it seems that I too, have failed." I stepped back, shocked at his defeated attitude. More than ever now, I wanted to kiss and love him, but I held back, knowing it was unladylike. I looked at Velkan.

"You have not failed yet," I told him, and he chuckled a humorless chortle. He looked at the ground near the trees, then turned his head so he was looking at me. His body, bless my soul, still faced the woods. He said nothing for a while, then when I thought that he was just going to stare at me the whole time, he spoke.

"How old are you, lass?" He asked me, and I blushed furiously.

"I am sixteen, Prince," I notified him, and a thoughtful look came into his eyes.

"Sixteen, you say?"

"Yes, Prince," I answered, still being formal because he hadn't told me otherwise.

"Velkan," he said, and I raised my eyebrows. I knew his name.

"Sir?" Velkan looked at me.

"You may call me Velkan." Oh boy. Velkan turned fully to me and took a step forward, looking me over appreciatively, and my cheeks were on fire. "Sixteen," he said under his breath, and I shivered. He noticed.

"Are you cold, Miss?" he asked, then the thoughtful look came back into his eyes as he looked at me. "What it your name?" As he inquired my name, he took off the velvet burgundy cloak that he wore and came closer to wrap it around my shoulders. My breath came out in hurried huffs as his chest was the only thing I could see for a bit.

My, he was beautiful. In a manly, masculine way. I told him my name.

"Kallisto," he repeated, "'the fairest'. He stared at me. "A fine name for you, Kallisto. For you are the fairest." (1) My cheeks burned at this unexpected compliment and I shivered again at his nearness. He didn't notice, but did not move away. I turned from him to look at Mother's grave, and Velkan followed suit. We stared at Mother's grave, Velkan's body behind mine and to the side, the way married couples stand, the man behind the woman yet on the side, and his hand about her waist.

I so wanted Velkan, my sweet Velkan, to put his hands on my waist. Or on my face. Or anywhere. I didn't care where he put his hands. Or his lips. I wanted him everywhere. I shivered as a picture formed in my mind of a bed with Velkan and I inside the sheets, our legs and lips entwined and our hearts beating as one. I shuddered again. This time, Velkan saw and put a hand at my shoulder.

"Come, Kallisto, the fairest. I will walk you home." And he did.

My infatuation was over. I was now helplessly, hopelessly, beautifully in love.

A/N: I didn't look up the name Callisto/Kallisto before naming her that, nor did I plan out that it meant the fairest or whatever... it just happened!

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