CHAPTER RATED M FOR STUFF. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
1. Blood Wine: Fresh mortal blood magically mixed with aged wine. The equivalent of drinking straight from an intoxicated mortal. AKA: Gets vampires drunk. XD
Love or Blood
Chapter Eighteen: Porcelain
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The next day when I awoke I was again greeted by a painful pounding in my head. My body ached and I felt tired despite just having opened my eyes. All felt filthy and stiff, blurry and weak. I immediately knew what the cause of all this pain was and slapped my clammy palm against my forehead in disgust. I just couldn't say no, could I? I had to give in and I didn't know why.
I groaned and rolled over, propping myself up onto my belly with one hand while using the other to rub my eye. My hair was still in a ponytail and a very messy one at that. What's more, I was naked. I had stripped myself as bare as a newborn babe and crawled into bed. I vaguely remembered entering my room and passing a gapping Laura. I didn't remember if we spoke, I just knew I had seen her. Also that I felt extremely hot and my clothes felt confining. On top of that, pajamas were too confusing for my inebriated state.
So I was left alone, naked and unreasonably happy. At least that was how I felt last night.
I glanced around the room quickly. Rheena and Tualga were both off tending to their new shifts. I had no one to tend to me this time. The pitch blackness of the room was my only comfort.
Reaching up, I pulled the ribbon out of my hair and let my hair flow freely. It did little to ease my scalp that currently felt like it was slowly splitting in half. I let my head fall back down into my pillow and cursed. I felt wretched both physically and mentally. How could my mother do this on her own night after night? And why did I agree whenever the opportunity arose?
I didn't bother looking up when I heard the door creak open. I stayed with my face in the pillow, eyes squeezed shut. But the footsteps came closer to me, until they were directly by my side. Still I did not move. Not to be rude, not too feign sleep, but because my head felt too heavy to lift.
Whoever entered placed something gently on my nightstand and left. It was the soft sound of crystal being placed on the table that made me lift my head a bit. My eyes had become so accustom to the darkness by now that I was quickly able to make out a small glass on my bedside table. I blinked and glanced toward the door that had already begun to close.
I opened my mouth to speak but found it too dry to do so. Instead I brought my attention back to the glass. I reached out with fumbling fingers and grasped the dainty cup. I brought it to my nose and smelt nothing odd. It was simply a glass filled with a clear liquid; water with a funny taste, I soon realized.
But the water was so cool on my lips that I drank the entire cup within a matter of seconds. I sighed contently, feeling an overwhelming pull to my pillow and placed the cup back on the table. "Rheena must have made this." I mumbled to myself, smiling gently at the door. I snuggled back into the covers of my bed and reminded myself to thank her for the tonic as I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
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He found it hard to believe that no fresh blood ran through his veins. Presently he was suffering from adrenaline like symptoms. But that couldn't possibly be real, could it? Surely this was all mind over matter. But why was he doing this anyway? When was the last time he passed through the Main Hall? Or went into the Maids Quarters for that matter?
Janus swallowed hard. Despite owning the entire city, he rarely left his chambers and only left the castle to feed. He never wandered anymore. Too risky, despite knowing all charms and incantations that could quickly get him out of a pinch, it was still too dangerous. Not only for himself but others as well.
But this time he had to do this. Although he had no grasp on exactly why; something like compassion was moving him forward. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. It wasn't fair for him or her.
Her, with her beautiful hair and smile. Her, with the lightest laugh and purest heart. And her, who he constantly poisoned with alcohol, just so he could hear her voice…
How much further could he possibly sink? He was the lowliest man who ever walked Nirn.
He shook his head once more. 'She's not the purest girl. She once was a thief, probably more…'
But he could tell himself that a thousand times a day and knew it was losing its effect. He trusted her now. He even enjoyed her company. He wanted to get to know her better, to just be close to her. The only thing he couldn't understand was why. Sure, she had changed and blossomed under his short ruling of her. But in the five months they had known each other he found himself going through an unknown whirlwind of emotions:
Blinded rage, mistrust, grievance, curiosity, empathy, delight, frustration and now compassion. All in that very same order.
There were a few others as well but nothing he wanted to think about more than he already did…which was a lot. An awful lot. Gods, he felt like a boy again. It was rather infuriating.
Still he had made a mistake and was going to rectify it. So with the tonic in hand, mixed and corked, he pushed the door to the Maids Quarters open.
Under the cover of an invisibility spell he silently crept inside. Glancing around, he saw that it was nearly vacant - besides a certain stable boy and maid currently intertwined in the back of the room. His upper lip cured back at such a sloppy display of public affection but he tried his best to ignore it.
The Count quickly found the girl's room. She was in there alone alright. It smelt of sweet wine. Anything the girl came into contact with seemed to cling to her skin.
Carefully, he made his way inside. The light from the Maids Quarters illuminated a sliver of the room, beaming directly on her bed. He had a mind to move quickly but soon noticed that his servant was…naked. A pearly white expanse of flesh, red hair partially revealing small shoulder blades, the smooth arch of her back hidden beneath course bed sheets. She was beautiful. Her head turned slightly, her little nose, full lips and long dark lashes visible. By the Gods, he was happy. Just looking at her, he was happy.
He swallowed hard and approached her bedside. Janus uncorked and placed the tonic on her night table just as she was beginning to stir. He took one last long look at her, this time his eyes dancing over her exposed neck, then left hurriedly.
xxxx
'Round nighttime I finally rose. 'Slept like the dead' I was told, but I didn't feel dead. Not at all, not dead, nor ill, tired or pain wracked. All ailments – even ones I wasn't aware of – had left me. I felt amazing, lithe and energetic. All was well and I was happy because of it. Whatever was in the tonic was certainly powerful. Too powerful. I knew it was the key to my sudden good health after a night of drowning myself. I began to question who actually made it but had no means of finding out. I was already almost late for work and Rheena and Tualga were nowhere to be found.
Still I hoped to thank my guardian, whoever he or she may be.
I made my way to the Count's manor feeling a little worried. From the fragments of my memory I recalled many things. Some of which I certainly hoped could be forever banished from my mind. And although I had a more positive outlook on my relationship with the Count, I still felt utterly cursed. Every time I tried to do good by him – or what I hoped he would deem good, I found myself in these types of situations.
I glanced around the hall to make sure that I wasn't being watched or followed. Once I verified that I was indeed alone, I brought my hand to my chest. My heart was beating fast, very fast. I thought of everything that I could remember last night: staring while the light of the fire danced over him. When he took my hands into his own, the way his thumb brushed my knuckles. Everything that came back to me made my heart pound against my breast. Banging against my ribs so hard it was difficult to breathe. I could feel myself blush, my knees shook, my palms sweat…
I think I made a friend.
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The Count rubbed his temples. Vicente Valteri had gone back to Cheydinhal, leaving nothing but a brief note thanking the Count for his generosity. Also promising a swift return once as he had the time. To Janus it sounded more like a threat than a promise.
Still the Count would eagerly read any letters that came his way from the elder vampire. It was good to have advice and friendly conversation with someone who understood his humor. However, he certainly did not need said vampire to 'stoke the flame of his inner passions' – as Vicente had kindly written.
He placed Vicente's letter down and sat at his desk. It was almost that time again. Despite all…shortcomings he wanted to see her very much.
Abigale Lynn.
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A small knock on the door jolted him into reality. Before he could respond the door opened and inside walked the one girl who plagued his mind.
She strode over to him with purpose. Showing confidence he hadn't yet seen from her. Abigale Lynn curtsied, "My Lord." She captured his gaze with heavily lidded green eyes.
The Count blinked, taken aback by the look. "Good evening." He cleared his throat, oddly feeling ill at ease. "Feeling well, I presume?"
Abigale Lynn took another step toward the desk; her hips met flush the wood. Once again the Count was taken aback by her behavior. "Very well My Lord. In fact, I haven't felt this good in ages…" She reached up suddenly, a blush spreading across her cheeks, and tugged at the lacy bow in her hair. Fiery locks fell from their usual neat place and covered her shoulders. She inhaled deeply and met his gaze again. "I'm ready, My Lord."
Janus' voice caught in his throat. He was perplexed. Her mannerisms and this boldness; it was so unlike the girl he knew. "Ready…? What are you doing?" He finally managed to ask, taking on an authoritarian tone with some difficulty. He was about to stand but she stopped him, capturing his rapt attention once she reached up and began to unbutton her blouse.
"I'm not sorry, My Lord." With the small shake of her head, those beautiful red strands danced along the revealed pale flesh. "This is brazen but it is right. You feel it, don't you? The fire. It's so hot." She shrugged off her blouse now wearing only a small brassier and skirt. "I cannot bear this heat any longer alone."
"…Stop this." The Count was in shock but managed to stand. Only to be met by her as she made her way around the desk. Whatever she was up to, no matter how appealing, was bad – wrong. Despite his own fantasies, it was one thing to imagine, another to act upon. Although, the idea of her sharing the same imaginations excited him. "You-you must stop this." She stood so closely. He couldn't fight it, he wanted to touch her. "Wrong." His fingers flexed, his mind was failing him.
Tentatively, she took his hand. "I know you desire me, My Lord, and…" She placed his hand upon her breast. Soft, warm, heavy in his palm, his fingers stretched up to meet the skin he so desperately wanted to feel beneath the cloth. "I desire you." She tilted her head up to his, her breath on his chin. "Take me." She said in a whisper, still blushing madly. He looked down at her beautiful, honest, nervous, flushed face.
It was all the Count needed. His morals were gone.
He pulled her to him quickly, frightened her as he reached back and pushed everything off the desk, tossing her onto it. He leaned over her, pressed his mouth to hers as he struggled to get free of his tunic. She wrapped her arms around his back as he continued kissing her everywhere. He then tugged off the fabric at her breasts, freeing them, and showing them ample amounts of attention. His mouth planted over a soft pink nipple, while his hands were up in her hair.
Abigale Lynn wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning loudly. "I need you now, My Lord." She panted, her slender fingers running down to his trousers. "Now."
Though he was a man of foreplay he quickly obliged. He yanked her skirt off – she lost a shoe in the process, then her undergarments. He quickly untied the laces on his pants, allowing them to fall on their own accord. He took hold of himself and pressed against her entrance. Evidently she was already as excited and ready as he was, despite their quickness. She moaned again encouragingly. He licked his lips then pushed the rest of himself inside her.
Her head fell back against the desk, eyes closed and mouth open. He gauged her reaction as he began to move. Listened to her breath become more erratic and feel her heart race.
She wrapped herself around him completely and buried her face in his shoulder. "Faster." His mind was swimming as he ran his hands up her sides. He wanted to see her but she remained unmovable in his arms. "More." He continued, feeling more like he was assaulting the girl rather than pleasing her. He swallowed hard, trying to control himself, not wanting to hurt her. He had half a mind to slow down, his climax was building quickly, but he did not. "Janus."
Abigale Lynn had never called him by his name before but he liked it. The Count closed his eyes wanting to listen to her breathing…only to discover she was not. Before he could react, however, she dug her nails painfully across his back. He hissed and leaned back slightly to give her a 'no-no' look, but she bucked her hips again so violently against him that he quickly disregarded it.
Everything was amazing. He was on top of the world.
"Janus! Oh Gods, kiss me."
He pulled back and pressed his mouth to hers, ready to relish the warmth of her lips…that was absent. As was her panting.
She was cold.
"Janus. Kiss me, Janus."
He opened his eyes.
The Count stared mortified and frozen. In his arms he held not sweet, young Abigale Lynn but his wife Rona. Cold taught skin clinging to her bones. Her hair was like wire; a paled brown and eyes sunken in and dark. Irises a color red so deep the shade could not be found even in Oblivion.
He flung himself from her and fell back into his chair. Everything was wrong. Rona, she…
Rona moved, her bones creaking as she sat up, stark naked and skeletal. Her skin was grey. "Kiss me, kiss her." She stood from the desk, her limbs so weak and fragile she wobbled as she moved. She smiled, bearing bloodied teeth at him. "Adultery" She whispered.
The Count was unmoving, frozen from shock and fear. "Rona-"
"Adultery! Adultery! Sin, sin, sin!" Rona suddenly shouted. Janus covered his ears.
"Stop!" He choked. He was disgusted with himself. Disgusted with her! What magic is this?
"Adultery! Adultery! Sin, sin, sin!" She laughed and began beating the desk with one hand, It looked like it was about to snap off her wrist. "Adultery! Adultery! Sin, sin, sin!"
Bloodied tears began to fall from his eyes. This is a dream. "Stop it, Rona please." This was not his wife. This…creature that laughed and pointed and shouted was not his wife. "Gods…Let me wake up. Please let me wake."
Rona came closer, about to descend upon him; feed on him.
Then Janus woke up.
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"Sir?" Light tapping sounded from the door. "I-It's me Sir. May I come in?"
The Count jolted awake. He looked around the room as if waiting for his comatose wife to stagger into his line of sight at any moment. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, desperately trying to purge the image from his thoughts. He was still seated in his chair, at his quaint little desk, neat and tidy. All was well it had just been another horrific nightmare.
"Perhaps I should come back later?..." His head snapped toward the voice. Abigale Lynn. Janus felt his throat tighten. Shame quickly formed and burned, planted itself firmly in his gut.
"N-no, no." The Count cleared his throat and stood, slightly wobbly at the knees. "You may come in."
Authors Notes: I have been so busy that I won't even try to explain myself. But this is more of a 'filler' chapter. I figured I left myself hanging too long. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO SEE. I know where this story is going of course but maybe so requests will help the muse?
Thanks to all that reviewed! Much appreciated!