by Troy A. Stanton note: This fanfic follows the events of the original stories "Winds of Change" and "Final Hours" (both written by me), and also incorporates a few elements from the story "Drawing Blood" by Catherine B. Krusberg. I have her permission to make use of her work as a source of material, so anything 'new' you see in here about D's past with Doris that didn't happen in the movie is most likely her original plot material.)
WARNING: This story contains graphic violence and adult content, please do not read beyond this point if you are easily offended by such things.
((Chapter One - Prologue))
It took a moment for the sound of the doorbell to register on his mind, resulting in a reflexive blink as it drew him out of his studies of what the ancient human world was like before the coming of the red moon. A second sound promptly followed the first, a very quiet grunting noise that he might not have heard had he not been a dunpeal, the half-breed child of a noble vampire and a human woman. The best of both worlds, many had murmured in the distant past, and yet the worst of both worlds at the same time.
"Galen," he said in a tone of both warning and concern, already starting to rise to his feet in the hopes that she would remain where she was. He knew he was already too late, as the quiet grunt he had heard moments earlier had been hers, but there was still hope that he might prevail this time.
"I've got it," Galen huffed calmly as she finished the somewhat ponderous process of getting out of her favorite chair and rising to her feet, the task made somewhat difficult by the moderate swelling of her abdomen.
The faintest of sighs rose up from D's chest. "You shouldn't be..." he started to say before being cut off by a dark glare from his bride.
"Spare me the chivalry, D," she grumped as she started to move towards the door. "Being pregnant doesn't make me an invalid who needs to be confined to bed for most of the day. Besides, I need to use the bathroom anyway so I had to get up sooner or later. Now relax and settle down, okay?" she added as she padded out of the study in almost near-perfect silence.
D sighed silently to himself again and slowly sat back down at the desk, casting a weary glance down at the ancient tome opened before him. The doctor in the human village had assured them that Galen was in perfect health. After admitting she knew little of dunpeal pregnancies in terms of verifiable medical facts, the doctor went on to explain that it was likely that Galen wouldn't be overly burdened by it as a fully human woman would until around the eighth or ninth month. However, the doctor sternly added in a tone that was directed at the both of them, that didn't mean she should be allowed to exert herself too hard even if it was within the capacity of her body to do so.
That had led to five months of minor and low-key arguments between them, with the protective side of D's nature trying to get her to take things easy and Galen's free-spirited nature bristling at the attempted imposition of any sort of constraints. They both understood the arguments for what they were, however, which is why neither of them took it personally in the slightest and why the 'arguments' rarely lasted for longer than a minute or two at the most.
Much to his discomfort, D found himself to be on the losing side of such discussions as of late simply because of Galen's recent tendency for subtle yet testy responses. While it was easy to chalk it up to an abundance of hormones, which is what she would admit to whenever they 'kissed and made up' later, it still nonetheless only served to reinforce his quiet but firmly-seated notion that women as a universal whole were dangerous entities because of their highly unpredictable natures. More so when they were with child...
D sighed quietly to himself yet again as he sat back, absently looking around the room that was part of the home they had constructed after growing weary of years of constant travel around the planet. All but hidden deep in a dark forest and several miles from the nearest human village, it offered them a sense of privacy and seclusion from the rest of the world that had long ago become tired of the dominating presence of vampires. He and Galen were thought to be the only dunpeals left alive, and it had been years since anyone could remember having or even hearing of an encounter with another vampiric entity.
Having been solitary for virtually all of his adult life, D had adapted to the quiet life fairly well once he learned how to relax instead of needing to keep a constant eye on every dark corner and pool of shadow around him. Galen, however, was far more socially-inclined than he was and often took short trips to the village to socialize and even indulge in a minor amount of gossip with the other women. Entrenched in their zone of comfort, it wasn't too long after the finishing touches had been put on the house that a somewhat different kind of restlessness enfolded them.
Galen was the first to give voice to the idea of becoming a mother, to try to bear a child to not only preserve their unique heritage but to also change their lives for the better. D was quite resistant at first, having dedicated not just his entire life but his very existence to ending the dark curse of vampiric evil in the world. Having Galen at his side for several years had shown him that there was still hope for their dark blood, that he didn't need to take that final step of cleansing by extinguishing her life and his own. However, it had still taken a considerable amount of conversation and effort for him to finally open up to the notion that he would not be doing a great disservice to either his past or the world by bringing a new life into being, one who would share in his dark blood and likely have the same blood-hunger.
He looked up as she returned, raising an eyebrow at the soft smile on her pale blue lips. It was her exotic beauty that tipped off any observers to the fact that she wasn't what she seemed to be. A pair of bluish-green liquid-like eyes looked back at him, seeming to soften as she approached. Her hair was a mane of blue-green, the color fading back and forth in each individual strand as if it couldn't make up its mind as it grew out. To most others she seemed to be simply a beautiful dunpeal, but D knew that the true cause of her beauty lay in her grandmother's Barbarois mutant blood.
She wordlessly held the letter out to him, a simple envelope that had been sealed with wax. The front of the letter bore only a single inked character, indicating that there had been no need to address it for delivery by others. She waited until she accepted it before leaning over to kiss him softly, their lips melding together almost instinctively for a minor eternity. Even with as long as they had been together and as often as they shared that simple but deeply intimate gesture, it never ceased to amaze them how the sensation could be so spine-tingling unique and yet offer them a level of comfort that neither of them had been able to fully express into words. "I'll be back," she said softly before she stood up straight and left the room again.
D watched her go before turning his attention to the letter, carefully studying the ink and script of the single letter 'D' on the front. It still bothered him on a subconscious level about how everyone viewed him as being a hero and a legend for ending the vampire reign, and how one only needed to put his name on a letter for everyone in the postal system to know how and where to deliver it to. Usually any such letters for them were really for Galen and held at the village tavern until she collected them, but it was not an unknown for the ones addressed to D that came from afar to be hand-delivered to their house for immediate perusal.
Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, save that the hand who had inked his name on the front had done so with a somewhat flowing script, he flipped the letter over to examine the back. The seal was a thin blob of ordinary red wax that bore no markings, suggesting that it wasn't from one of the few people he had kept in contact with since settling down. The bottom half of the envelope was covered in a series of tiny stamps and written notes, letting him know what cities and towns the letter had passed through and when. Tracing the path of such deliveries was remotely entertaining for him, having a fair idea of how much time any given letter should need to span the distance between any two cities or townships and speculating as to why a particular 'hop' was either late or early.
Westfield to New Meadow, for example, usually took three days to cross by wagon but only two by horse. Seeing that the hand-written date next to the New Meadow stamp was two days after the Westfield mark indicated that it indeed had been delivered by horse for that leg of the journey, not an overly unusual event given the tendency for the delivery carts that normally carried mail to be delayed by bad weather. However, judging from the number of cases where it had taken less time between hops than expected, it seemed that the letter had been apparently been given a high priority despite the lack of markings to ask for such speed.
((Someone's in a hurry,)) a voice said, audible in both the air around him and in the depths of his mind. ((Willowvale to Westmarch in two days?))
"Or they just think so," D replied quietly. Years ago he would have been upset and even resentful of the symbiot's intrusion into his silent thoughts, but life with Galen had a considerable mellowing effect on him. It seemed to have had an impact on the entity embedded in his left hand as well, as it more often than not kept to itself these days. D sometimes wondered if that was because of the time it had spoken up to make an ill-welcomed comment several months after his blood-marriage to Galen, only to set off a blistering tirade from his bride that to this day still made his ears burn when remembering just what she had said to it and how it had been phrased. She had apologized later for her outburst and things between them had settled into a decent friendship, but D couldn't help but notice a considerable drop in the level and pointedness of its commentary since then.
((Most other people wouldn't mind such prompt and expedient mail service) it pointed out.
"I'm not like other people," D countered, casting a glance at his hand.
((No shit?)) it replied with a deep chuckle that made his entire arm vibrate gently for a few moments. ((And here I was thinking that...))
"Enough," he said calmly as he used his right hand to break the wax seal. There was a time and a place for such banter, and even he had to admit that he more often than not had the time for it, but the delivery of the letter at such a rapid pace bothered him somehow. It was at least a full week ahead of the usual delivery times for originating in such a remote city, essentially on the other side of the continent going east as the proverbial crow flies, and he was fully aware that only gossip and bad tidings travelled at unholy speeds.
And he knew that nobody wrote to him simply to gossip.
The letter was a simple one, bearing the date it was first penned and done so in the same script as the lettering on the envelope. A cursory glance at the bottom-left edge of the envelope revealed that it has been posted the day after it was written, likely indicating that the sender had written the letter in the evening and had it sent out the following morning. Setting the empty envelope aside, he unfolded the rest of the letter and began to read.
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D -
If it means anything to you, Abelyne passed away three days ago in peaceful sleep. Her daughter said she had left behind a will of sorts, and that one of the items mentioned was that she wanted a letter to be sent to you, thanking you one final time for helping her live the life she enjoyed in peace until the very end. I told her that I would write the letter to you myself, as she and I were the same age when we went through it all together back then, and I know that I myself am not too far removed from my own eternal peace.
I know this may sound sudden to you and you may not even remember us, but deep in my heart I know that you do. I too wish to thank you for the chance to live my life as I have these past sixty years, a life that was just as you said it would be. Know that word came to us last year that you had finally found someone to open your heart to, and know your marriage was viewed by the both of us as a cause for mourning even as we celebrated it with smiles. I might have written then to wish you well, but I felt you didn't need to be bothered by a meek voice from the distant past. I only speak now because my dearest friend's voice has finally fallen silent, and so I wished to let her use my voice to pass along her final words of thanks to you. Her words, and now my own.
If it cannot be said enough, then let it rest with this much: Thank you. Thank you for saving our lives, our hopes, and for teaching us to dream once again. Thank you, D.
All my love,
April Rose
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It was several minutes before D could bring himself to fold the letter back up and rest it atop his lap on the envelope. The name had meant nothing to him until he spotted the carefully inked sigil beneath it, written in the ancient language once used by druids. The icon meant 'moon-kissed' and could be interpreted several ways depending on how it was used. But in this context, it was all too clear what it symbolized... and whom had written the letter. A distant part of his mind was absolutely amazed at how a simple thing like a name could suddenly trigger so strong of a memory that it all but blotted out his other senses while the visions replayed themselves in his mind's eye. The mental review was a blessedly brief one before he could refocus, but it was more than enough to leave him feeling a little haunted on the inside.
A startled blink and a reflexive glance upwards revealed the presence of his bride, standing in front of him with a look on her face that was as curious as it was uneasy. Perhaps she knew him well enough by now to tell at a glance how he was feeling or if something was bothering him, but being able to catch him so completely unawares was a warning sign they both knew painfully well. A lapse in focus happens to everyone, but when it happens to a hunter like D who more often than not could hear a fly passing gas in the next room over, it was a very strong indication that whatever was on his mind was not pleasant.
"D?" she asked softly, almost tenderly as she tried not to worry about the look she had seen in his dark eyes moments ago.
"Words from a forgotten friend," D assured her in a gentle but somber tone. "Nothing more."
"Not bad news, I trust," she replied as she cast a quick glance down at the folded letter. She was curious about the contents, of course, but wouldn't make any deep inquiries or otherwise press the issue if he could convince her that it really wasn't anything to be concerned with.
D's gaze followed hers down to the rectangle of parchment in his lap, the softest of sighs drifting up from his chest as he contemplated the merits of letting her read it. Not that there was anything objectionable in the letter itself, but rather the dark memories that it would disturb and the quiet but probing questions that her curiosity would compel her to gently inquire about.
Had it been any other incident like it in his past, he would have spoken about it with little more than a few moments of contemplative thought first. Even this one he would have been willing, though not enthused, to share with her, to relate a small slice of his own dark past and a source of one of the many voices that had haunted him for so long. However...
D sighed yet again as he allowed his gaze to wander slightly, looking up at the swelling of her abdomen that clearly indicated she was pregnant. Not that he was worried about emotional distress on her part or something about the telling of the story that could somehow influence their unborn baby, but that having to remember what he had said and done back then was the absolute last thing he wanted to do right now. Especially in the presence of the soon-to-be mother of his child. Not after being reminded about what had happened to him back then, when he had encountered both April and Abelyne sixty years ago...
"D?" she prodded quietly, her expression becoming more concerned with each moment that passed by them in silence.
((D, you might as well get it out of your system,)) it spoke up in what for it was a rather subdued tone. ((Not that you let it wake you up screaming in a nightmare or anything, but...))
"Enough," D said quietly, more out of simple force-of-habit than anything. He looked up as he felt her touch, the lightest of pressures on his jaw tilting his chin up so that his dark eyes met her liquid blue-green eyes. Even as he studied their flawless depths, they seemed to flicker with the faintest of red highlights for just an instant. He knew that it was becoming harder for her to keep complete control of her Barbarois blood as her pregnancy continued, her mutant heritage manifesting itself by giving her a distinctly insectoid look that also became apparent when she was severely stressed.
"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" she whispered softly. "I'm not going to pry into whatever secrets you keep locked away in your past, D, as we both have such things to deal with, but just keep in mind that I'm always here for you if you need me."
D closed his eyes briefly, wondering not for the first time why it always seemed to be so damn hard these days to keep anything from her, to hide behind the veil of armor and isolation that had served him so well for the literally countless years of his life before their lives had crossed and fused into one. "A friend has passed away," he said quietly. "Peacefully," he added, almost as an afterthought.
Galen's eyes immediately became sorrowful. "D, I'm sorry," she murmured as she carefully leaned over to give him a hug. She held onto him for a number of moments before edging back, blinking as he reached down to pick up the short letter and offer it to her. Their gazes locked for a moment before the softest of smiles brushed her lips, prompting her to lean forward once again to give her husband a tender kiss. "You sure?" she whispered, letting her lips brush against his lightly as she spoke.
"And if I said no?" he replied, causing her to blink with surprise.
"Well..." she hedged in a slightly uncertain tone.
((D, make up your mind,)) it sighed quietly.
"Quiet," both D and Galen said in the same instant. An odd moment of silence followed as they glanced at one another before a sheepish blush tinted her cheeks. "I love you, D," she purred as she picked up both the letter and the envelope. She then turned around and moved to carefully sit in his lap, prompting him to edge away from the desk to accommodate her. She waited until he had a secure grip on her weight and that she wasn't squishing anything of importance before nuzzling his cheek and unfolding the letter.
D said nothing as she silently read the delicately-inked script, wondering just how he was going to explain things to her. They had long ago forged an understanding about his past, one that easily dwarfed hers by a factor of eight if not more. She was permitted to ask him anything she wanted about his past,but he wasn't under any obligations to answer her. Any answer he gave would be truthful, of course, as it simply was not in his nature to lie or otherwise be dishonorable in any way.
He glanced over at her as she looked up from the letter, an odd sort of smile forming on her face. She wordlessly leaned over to kiss him deeply, one arm sliding behind him to both hold him and rebalance her weight in his lap. Her reaction was a puzzling one but he responded to her regardless, letting the seemingly natural affinity their lips had for one another play itself out at its own pace.
"Let me guess," she murmured softly once they finally parted enough to be able to look into one another's eyes, "You rescued them from the dungeon of a dark vampire lord?"
So it begins, D thought to himself as he took a deep breath. "Somewhat" he replied. It obviously wasn't the answer she had expected to hear, as she promptly blinked hard enough to create tiny microscopic ripples in her liquid eyes. Such a minute reaction would have gone completely unnoticed had he not been studying them intently, suspecting that he might have garnered just such a response.
"Somewhat?" she echoed in a fairly incredulous tone. "It's a yes-or-no answer, D, either you rescued them or you didn't."
He looked back at her in uneasy silence, knowing that the truthful answer would only pique her curiosity with an unusual intensity. He was fairly sure that it had already been done so, and that prolonging the inevitable was just going to make it that much more difficult to talk about later. He sighed very softly to himself and was preparing to draw in another breath to speak when it spoke up for him.
((It's complicated,)) it said with an audible sigh of its own. ((Well, it's not really that complicated once you take it apart under a microscope, but you get the idea.))
"I'm listening," Galen spoke up in a perfectly neutral tone.
It sighed again before it wiggled slightly, producing a sensation in his hand that was akin to a tap on the shoulder. ((D, you might as well speak up about it. Yes, she might laugh for the first few seconds, but honestly... who better else to share in such things than your beloved bride?))
"Enough," D muttered as he closed his eyes.
"D?" she spoke up carefully. "I promise not to laugh if you'll tell me."
"They told everyone I rescued them," D spoke up in a muted tone, almost too quiet for even Galen's sensitive hearing to detect. "That is not to say they're lying, as I doubt they would have been freed like that if it wasn't for my presence. What they didn't mention was that they had to rescue me first."
He wasn't sure what it was that he heard, just barest hint of the ghost of a whisper tickling the very edge of his hearing. It was enough to make him open his eyes and look up at her, finding a somewhat surprised look on her pale features. He didn't find any indication that she was amused in the least by the confession, a minor realization that comforted him just slightly. It was one thing to be teased amid the bonds of love that they shared, such things almost always accompanied by a distinctive twinkle in her eyes, but it was something else entirely to find humor in the blackened ashes of his past... and his pain.
Her tongue flicked out briefly, just enough to moisten her pale blue lips. Whether done out of nervousness or genuine dryness was hard to tell, but D found it to be a faintly ominous event. "D?" she spoke up quietly a moment later. "Do you think you can tell me about it? The whole story, I mean," she amended. "Context tends to be important in such cases."
"If you wish," he replied without emotion, or so he thought.
She paused as she sensed the undercurrent of emotion to his words, a deep and haunting timbre that spoke of an incredible amount of pain and suffering. "How long do you think that story would take to tell properly?" she whispered, absently chewing on the edge of her lip. She wasn't concerned with the actual length of time given their ageless lifespans, but she knew that she probably couldn't afford to spend too much time curled up in his lap like this. Or at least, not when she was six-months pregnant...
"Hours," D replied, his voice still all but devoid of warmth or feeling. It was how he used to speak when they had first met, not so much uncaring as impersonal and deeply withdrawn. Drawing him out of his shell had taken quite some time and more than a little noteworthy effort, but as with all old habits it sometimes became impossible to avoid slipping back into when it seemed that life not only had you by the balls for one reason or another but needed to have her nails trimmed back something fierce as well.
D almost blinked hard enough to be heard as he was answered with a fairly low-pitched purr, followed by a deep kiss that raised the hair on the back of his neck. A bright orange flag immediately went up in his mind, trying to warn him that she suddenly seemed to be in a playful mood. While that in of itself wasn't too much of a driving concern these days, it made very little sense for her to be inclined to be playful given his obviously darkened mood ten seconds ago. Unless, of course, she was now up to something...
"I have an idea," she purred in a husky tone. A somewhat wicked smile crossed her face as she only received an obviously wary sidelong look from him in reply. "Why don't you carry me upstairs and put me to bed? That way, we can both be resting comfortably while you tell me your story..."
It took him a moderate amount of effort not to sigh, shake his head, roll his eyes, or otherwise give any overt indication of his mild disbelief with his beloved bride. They had made love on an almost nightly basis since that first night they laid together on their way to visit the grave of her mother. Life on the road had only impacted that when it came to crossing the ocean, as she had discovered that the constant motion of the ship made her just queasy enough to not be in a mood for passion. Settling down had likewise virtually no real impact on things... or at least until she had first whispered in half-horror and half-delight one night that her period should have happened already.
The blood-test had been simple enough, and D honestly couldn't say he remembered much of the following five nights simply because his head had been spinning so hard from the realization that she was pregnant with his child. When the initial shock had worn off to the point of allowing their lives to at least try to return to normal, it had all but shocked him when she sought to make love to him. A very awkward conversation ensued, followed by her almost literally dragging him to see the doctor the following morning to explain what the 'problem' was. D then sat rather stoically through a ten-minute lecture about how to have sex during stages of pregnancy and why it was quite alright for them to do so. The return trip home had been done in perfect silence, but he had only made it perhaps six steps inside the front door before ending up one degree shy of being raped by her right then and there on the staircase. He got the message after that and their love-making returned to a somewhat normal albeit exceedingly gentle and careful degree.
"Well," she said in an off-handed manner, breaking through his veil of introspective thoughts again, "If you don't feel like carrying me upstairs, I suppose I can walk there on my own..."
A faint chuckle filled the air as D promptly stood up, scooping her up in his arms in a single fluid motion that barely disturbed her sense of inertia. The soft sound of amusement was neither his nor hers, but given the way he was holding her it would have been all but impossible for the symbiot to make any further commentary about the odd quirks and happenings that occurred within the bonds of love between the dunpeals.
"You know I love you, D," Galen purred very softly as she rested her head on his shoulder, a soft and gentle smile of both love and anticipation forming on her pale blue lips. A very faint giggle rose up from her chest as she saw the look in his eyes as he cast a brief glance at her. She knew he didn't know what to say in a situation like this and was no doubt asking himself yet again what he had gotten himself into.
Well, she told herself with a mental shrug, if he doesn't know by now, I doubt he ever will. Which just makes it all the more fun, she added with an even quieter giggle to herself that drew another uneasy look from him as he carried her up the stairs towards their bedroom.
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D cast a remotely amused look at her as she absently snuggled up against him, not so much half-asleep as joyfully immersed in the loving afterglow of their gentle love-making. Even someone as emotionally obtuse as he was could see there was an almost literal glow to her, a seemingly radiant aura of peace and love and contentment surrounding her that could dazzle a blind man.
She was curled up on her side with her back to him, making a very soft buzzing sound to herself that sounded almost exactly like a honeybee's wings. Most of her pale skin had darkened to a woodland brown coloring, a result of her Barbarois heritage unconsciously manifesting itself. The skin of her hands and feet had darkened further and started to gnarl like the gripping ends of an insect's legs, though she still retained enough mental focus to prevent them from ripping through the sheets or otherwise clawing at anything. Or anyone.
A simple kiss on her bare shoulder doubled the volume of her soft buzzing purrs, causing her to tilt her head back slightly to lean against him. The movement revealed the distinctly insectoid and angular lines of her face, a pair of sensory ridges evident on her forehead that weren't there previously. Her eyes were still three-quarters closed, but even through the slits of her eyelids he could make out the dark red and multifaceted shape of her eyes. To an outside observer she would have appeared to be more than a little alien and quite obviously inhuman, but to D she was still every bit as beautiful as she was in her human form.
It wasn't the first time she had 'slipped' into her insectoid form when highly relaxed, usually from making love but sometimes from something as simple as having her back gently scratched, but D was very much aware of how it had been happening more and more frequently since she conceived. Not that he had the slightest problem with it, as she was who she was, but they both had to be a little careful at times about where they ended up afterwards. In bed was the usual location for such things, being nice and comfortable, but more than one set of bed sheets needed to be replaced or otherwise mended following a hasty or careless movement of her insectoid form's claw-like fingertips and toes.
((D?)) she buzzed softly as she began to very carefully stretch, her voice tainted by a metallic undertone and somewhat distorted. ((You're an absolutely wonderful lover, you know that?))
He cuddled close to her, slipping one arm around her waist to lightly rest on the curve of her abdomen. "Be that as it may," he replied in a soft tone, "It still takes two to make love like that."
((I know,)) she purred as she took his hand in her own, squeezing it gently before pulling both it and him further over her body to rest against the soft swell of her breast. ((But you have to admit you're the one who's been doing all the work lately.))
"I guess the humans were right after all," D said in a calm voice, causing her to twist her head gently to look at him.
((About what?)) she inquired in a faintly cautious tone.
It took him a surprising amount of effort to keep his expression perfectly composed. "No good deed goes unpunished," he deadpanned. He watched in quiet amusement as she first blinked in slight confusion before she fully understood what he was trying to say with his rare attempt at humor. As expected, she immediately developed a case of the giggles that made her body jiggle in a most appealing fashion.
"D, don't do that," she chided him with a smile that was nowhere close to being disapproving, the lines of her face slowly smoothing out and returning to her usual human shape. "You... know it... hurts to laugh... like this" she said, gasping softly even as she continued to try to suppress the series of soft giggles that plagued her whenever he deliberately tried to be funny. He wasn't sure if she was amused by the humor itself or by the attempt, but the end result was still the same and thus more than worth the occasional effort.
He remained silent as she gingerly rolled over onto her back, cuddling up even closer to him and rubbing her cheek against his. She paused and glanced down at their naked bodies, making a slight face as she flexed her leg and saw where the bottom edge of the blankets had wound up. Sighing very quietly, she began to turn her focus inward and exert her vampiric will. Her skin seemed to turn pale all at once as she subdued her mutant heritage, returning her hands and feet to normal. She then crooked a finger at the blanket, using the power of her will to animate it just enough to make it start to crawl up her leg like a living entity.
D glanced down as he noticed the fabric move, raising one eyebrow as it continued to move upwards until it settled into place around their waists. It was a power they could both exert on inanimate objects if they focused hard enough, though it was rare that he bothered to do so as he viewed it as a sign of laziness. He wasn't going to argue with her about such a trivial thing, however, especially when he knew that she wasn't being lazy by letting her will handle such a task instead of taxing her physical body at this point.
A soft touch on his cheek caused him to look over at her, just in time to witness her eyes finish the process of melting from insectoid red to her usual liquid-like bluish-green. The look on her face was one of both tender love and open satisfaction, obviously still very much content after their love-making. Yet at the same time he thought he could see a subtle glimmer in her otherwise flawless eyes, suggesting that she hadn't forgotten about the letter.
"Something on your mind, my love?" she murmured quietly to him, letting her fingertips idly trace the contours of his lips.
"Always," he replied quietly, making sure not to accidentally nip her as he spoke.
A fairly coy smile brushed the edges of her lips. "Not this one again" she said in a fairly bemused tone. "I thought we fixed that thinking problem of yours a few years ago." It was a bit of an old joke back when his soul was heavy and his thoughts were clouded with uncertainty over the future, not just his but hers as well. That had all changed with her presence in his life, but old habits were still sometimes hard to break.
"Perhaps," he replied quietly, gazing into her eyes with a somber look.
"D," she whispered very softly as she pulled him down for a gentle kiss. "You don't have to talk about it if you truly don't want to. You know my love for you won't be changed in the slightest if you don't feel like talking about a painful part of your past."
He said nothing as he closed his eyes, once again asking himself if he really felt it was worth mentioning. The dark part of him said no, but the other part of him, the human half that had first awoken with Doris' touch and later strengthened by Leila and Galen, said that he couldn't deny his beloved bride her soft-spoken request to be given a glimpse into his darkened past that he had never deigned to mention before.
He heard a voice start to whisper quietly in his mind's ear, a ghostly memory of the past that seemed ready to haunt him like the countless voices of others in his past, voices that had all fallen mercifully silent after he had pledged his life to Galen during their quiet blood-marriage ceremony what felt like a lifetime ago. The whispering voice wasn't Doris' or Leila's or any of the other women in his past, but instead was Galen's voice, reminding him of what was first said when she asked about his thoughts of starting a family.
Enough, he told himself firmly, trying to thrust the memories from his mind before they could truly haunt him. He knew that he would have to open up and tell Galen about the incident alluded to in the letter, lest the self-doubt and second-guessing start tearing at his soul once again. It had taken him a literal eternity to silence the spectral whispers in his conscience the first time, and he would just as soon not give them the chance to return and torture his dark soul anew.
His sigh took them both by surprise, he at how loud it was and she at how heavy it seemed to be. Their eyes met for a brief instant before he allowed his to close, not wanting to let her see any more of his inner pain than he had to. "Galen..." he started to say very quietly.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," she interrupted softly, reaching up to squeeze his hand and resting her head on his shoulder.
"You know time has lost almost all meaning to me," he found himself saying in the quiet, almost empty tone he often used when speaking to others before her arrival in his life had opened both his eyes and his heart. "I don't truly remember how long ago it was, but sixty years may be about right. There were not too many nobles left then, and the growing number of human vampire hunters was starting to force the remaining vampires into hiding. One or two remained out in the open, as it were, in defiance of both them and myself. I was able to encounter one of them in his castle atop a continental ravine, a noble by the name of Baron Simon Winters. Defeating him was not the hardest battle I had ever fought, but it seemed his death was only the beginning of my troubles. While I was under the impression that I had taken care of everything when the castle began to crumble around me, I soon discovered that I had somehow managed to completely miss learning about a very important detail..."
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