Author's Notes: It starts…is that vague enough? XD Thank you to all who have reviewed! I really enjoy reading them and they make my butt move faster! This chapter took a little bit because of life. AND I worked really hard on (hehe 'hard on') capturing certain emotions without it becoming to lengthy. The 'pain' and emotions that are in this chapter have always been present so I didn't want to delve too much in. Might make it seem like a surprise or something…idk. R&R I guess! Aaaaaand enjoy! Or hate, whichever takes your fancy!

Love or Blood

Chapter Thirty-Two: Undone

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The Count was quick to bid Vicente Valteri and Nerah Vlando farewell. There was far too much on his mind and he could no longer entertain guests. For once he longed for solitude. Janus had told Abigale Lynn to wait for him inside his bedchamber while he showed the pair to the exit. He had let her give a brief farewell to the Dark Brotherhood members but watched her actions carefully. A small flare of envy struck him once she smiled down at Vicente as he kissed her pale hand.

The Count walked down the halls of his manor mutely as the assassins chattered behind him. His very soul felt tired. Janus still felt betrayed and heated by Abigale Lynn's actions, but he was trying desperately to hide it and forget it. The Count pretended all was well; he talked, spoke and smiled when needed be. However, despite the façade he was putting up, he knew the elder vampire could very well see past his efforts.

Once they reached the exit Vicente gently pushed Nerah Vlando out before him and told her to wait by the Castle Gates. The Count was unsurprised that Vicente ushered his protégé outside. He had expected that the other vampire would like to have a private word with him.

"What happened?" Vicente turned abruptly and asked quite demandingly. "Your energy is foggy and dark… yet very wild. You spoke to her, correct? What was said?"

Janus was in no mood to have questions barked at him, nor was he in the mood to argue back. He simply looked to his friend with sad red eyes, "She finds me repugnant." He answered somberly, bitterly.

There was a short pause and then Vicente laughed unbelievably at this. Normally, the reaction would have warranted anger from the Count, but this time he said nothing. He felt nothing other than resentment and he lacked the energy for any of his usual fire. Arguing with Vicente always proved to be pointless and this time he was in no mood for any of their typical antics.

"You are not serious, are you?" Vicente inquired, still recovering from his chuckle. The Count said nothing still and the silence eventually broke the grin on Vicente's face. He shook his head violently. "No, no Janus. This is not right. I have felt both your energies while you two are together. The attraction or the connection, rather, is prominent on both sides."

"I know," Janus sighed. "But she does not want me, Vicente. She denies her own heart to keep away from mine. It is my vampirism, I know it is. She thinks the idea of herself and I immoral." The Count looked away from his friend, trying to mask the sorrow and vulnerability upon his features. Again the image of Abigale Lynn grasping at straws and lying coolly came to him. His jaw tightened.

"That cannot be true, I know it cannot. Janus you must go back to her. Try again to –"

"No!" The Count snapped venomously, so taking Vicente by surprise. "I will not relieve that embarrassment. To be so shot down… it does not only wound my pride but damns the very image of her!" Janus' hands were clenched into tight fists as he stared down hard at Vicente. "Abigale Lynn does not want my affection. I am going to pretend it never happened…I am going to pretend that she did not treat me as a fool! It never happened."

"You cannot do that." Vicente demanded, standing his ground. "Look at yourself Janus. You are torn in two. You can't pretend that it – whatever it was that was said or done- never happened. You are already maddened by it. If you do not do something it will fester inside of you." Vicente rubbed his temples and further implored the Count. "You. Are. Vampire. This situation is a precarious one and needs to be handled carefully. So if you truly care for this girl you will go back in there and try it again. You put her and yourself in danger by not acting. You will only be further burdened and further angered. Doing nothing is not how to approach a solution. This must be resolved appropriately."

For a moment the Count said nothing and Vicente thought he may have gotten through to him. Then Janus shook his head and straightened his tunic nonchalantly. "You'd best leave now, Master Valteri. There are many times that I look to your counsel, now is not one of those times." Janus then opened the door a little wider for Vicente. He gestured again for him to leave. "I will keep in touch."

The other vampire's shoulders slumped. "You are making a grave mistake." Vicente murmured in defeat. Janus would not budge and completely resigned himself. Vicente sighed and pulled his hood up, "Do me one favor and keep yourself fed then. Hunt tonight and the night after; do not let the sun rise with a hunger in you. " And with that Vicente left into the night. Gone, as if he were never there.

xxxx

I sat by the fire as I waited for the Count to return. I fiddled with my hands nervously, anticipating his arrival. The Count seemed completely oblivious to my rejection. It should have made me happy but instead it wound me up tightly to the point that I feared my teeth would crack from clenching. I did not understand his calm demeanor. I felt I knew him well, so I could not stomach the total absence of his wrath. He acted as though nothing had transpired at all. Maybe he did not know that I denied him…But he Count is not a stupid man. On the contrary he is the smartest man I have ever known. Him being so smart and so perceptive made it difficult for me to carry on normally.

Perhaps he was showing me through actions that he was alright with my rejection. But then why did he look so irate and contemplative at first? Maybe he thought it through and realized that it was wrong. Why taint what we have now when it is so wonderful as is? I still could not come to grips over the fact that the entire exchange occurred between us at all.

In the midst of my brooding the Count entered. He looked tired but smiled at me nonetheless. I was not sure if my mind was playing tricks, but I thought the smile was subtly hostile. "Hope I didn't keep you." He said as he walked to the hearth.

I shook my head at him and tried to smile back. "No Sir."

The Count placed an arm on the mantle and toyed with a decorative chalice. "That is good to hear. Vicente took a little longer to leave than usual. He seems to really like you." The Count then paused and cast me a peculiar glance. "What do you think of that?"

"That is good to know. Since he is your friend I would like to be close to him. It makes things more pleasant when we are both in your company together."

"What a well-thought-out answer." The Count replied oddly with a grin I could only describe as wolfish. I did not like the look and all the little hairs on the back of my neck stood. "You have become so very articulate. Do you remember when we first met? You could hardly speak to me."

Again I tried to smile. "Y-you won me over with your kindness, Sir. I could not speak to anyone, really. I still can't." I played with my hair this time. I felt the need to keep my hands busy and my eyes away from his. We were quiet for a short while but to me it was an eternity and I needed the madness to stop. "Sir, I should probably get to cleaning." I managed as I stood. "I feel that I have been slacking recently."

"You don't have to." The Count answered, making his way in front of me. His eyes were strange as was his demeanor. It was as though I were talking not to the Count but to his identical twin brother; so alike and yet so different.

I saw many things in the Count's eyes but I was unsure of whether or not it was real or my own imaginations and guilty conscience. I hurt deep down. The prospect of making him uncomfortable on any level wounded me. And in truth, I was also hurting myself by the same actions and lies. But it had to be done for the good of our relationship and perhaps the preservation of my life. I suppose in this case I would rather softly lie than deny. Whatever was gentlest.

"You know I have to." I said as sweetly as I could. If the Count could play pretend then so shall I. Eventually time will go on and we will both forget these awkward nights.

The Count let me slip by him and work. We spoke every so often, mainly about the Dark Brotherhood, as we went about the evening. I hummed to myself loudly as I tried to block out the nagging voices in my head. I felt that perhaps the Count was trying to do the same as he loudly flipped pages on his ledger and muttered every so often into the paper.

At the end of my shift I told the Count goodnight as we normally did. He turned away from his work and repeated the farewell. He had told me that tomorrow evening I was to return to my eight o'clock shift. I was ashamedly grateful for the two hours given back to me. The less I saw the Count the better…at least for now.

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Janus listened as the soft pattering of Abigale Lynn's footsteps melted into silence. Once he was sure she had gone, he dropped the seemingly feverish writing that he was doing, and placed his head in his hands. Janus closed his eyes and let out a long heavy sigh. He felt as though a massive weight was clinging to his back, hunching his shoulders and crushing whatever soul he had left from his bones. A heat of shame and stunted rage was ever present at the back of his skull and the high-points of his cheeks.

The Count starred down at the quill that had been dropped to the floor. He eyed the small black reflected pool of spilt ink on the stone. His own reflection mocked him. There in the blackness of the small ink droplet he saw himself confined, much like his natural state. The Count felt as if the very flesh and bone that made him was restricting his soul. He had never felt so powerless…and all at the hands of someone he wanted to care for.

His sad blackened refection pleadingly looking back into his own eyes maddened him. His nostrils flared, and without any thought he placed his boot over the puddle and smeared it into the stone. Anger, unfathomable anger surged through the Count then as he sat and stared witlessly at the black smudge. The nerve, the gall. He felt much like the ink he had just dragged into the crevices of the floor. His pride was more than wounded, it was obliterated, and the scattering of its pieces before him only made his insides twist with unbridled hatred.

Did he hate Abigale Lynn? No, no he did not. However, he hated what she had done to him. In a rush of hardly clicking presumptions she tore down any self-assurance the aggrieved Janus had left. He thought in her there may have been some sort of happiness awaiting him. That possibly with his admission, she would open her own heart to him as well. Maybe together they could have fought away his nightmares and the terrors of his deeds in the past.

How farfetched it all seemed now. She wanted nothing from him but his unwavering generosity. She cared not for his heart at all. She only watched over her own, kept it in tight clutches, allowing no one access, not even the ones she felt for…perhaps even loved.

Abigale Lynn reminded him that he did not deserve love. He was a beast, he fed upon the living and kept his wife cold and to some extent alive and in the literal secrets of the Castle.

The Count slammed a fist down hard onto his ledger, effectively cracking it in half, but he continued to stare ahead as if nothing occurred at all. But nothing, not the slight ache in his hand or the fluttering of paper on the floor could keep the one person who cursed him from his mind. The one who he felt damned his existence once she had forsaken her own.

Rona.

Janus stood abruptly and shrugged off his vest, which too fell to the floor before he marched purposely from his room. He stormed down the hall to the hidden entrance of the Chamber of Fate, in which his wife lay. He tugged at the sconce that opened the door and proceeded inside with haste, being loud enough to wake the dead. The heel of his boots clacked and stomped against the staircase as he rushed down.

Soon the darkness of the stairwell gave way to the soft orange glow of Rona's chamber. The Count approached his catatonic wife's bedside, a crazed look in his eyes as he gauged the tight flesh and grey pallor of his once beautiful Rona. He found himself breathing heavily through his nostrils, an unneeded but still habitual characteristic of his current duress.

The room remained as it always was. Nothing was altered in anyway. All was still and silent aside from the Count's labored breaths. He eyed his usual chair and hesitated before sitting on it. His body shook as hurt and anger still swam inside of him. The room soon regained its usual lifelessness once the Count had settled into a less human state.

As he tried composing himself, he looked to his wife once more, this time the look was one of need. A lump formed in his throat and his eyes began to burn from his unwavering stare. Finally, after what felt like eternity, his lips parted and he found his voice. "Hello, Rona." He ground out, trying to remain calm. The Count had forgotten the last time he uttered a word to his wife. The sound of his own voice reverberating off of the walls sent a mortal chill up his spine.

His words of course were followed by stillness. Nothing. The Count swallowed hard and looked away for a moment. "Rona, there is something I need to discus with you." He said again, once more followed only by silence. The Count sucked in his bottom lip, his fangs sinking into the flesh unthinkingly. Why was he doing this? Why was he putting himself through more torture? "Please," Janus softly implored, his eyes beginning to burn now from unshed tears. "Please say hello to me…"

A long time passed again as the Count sat and stared into one of the Mage lights upon the wall. "Anything, say anything to me." The stillness was starting to gnaw away at the Count, reminding him why he hated this room so. The Chamber of Fate, it smelt of death and perfume, and it was cold and rigid and never changing. "I was not the best to you…I could have been better, but I loved you. I loved you so…I gave you every good part of me. The child we lost was all the good of my soul placed into your womb." The Count's vision began to redden as unshed bloodied tears clouded his gaze.

"Why is all that I give never enough? You could never give me your heart as I gave mine to you. You did not want it. You did not want to try to fully love, for you did not want to fail. You claimed to love me but you took my child away out of selfishness and spite! You did fail! You could not commit the 'sin' to keep yourself healthy! You killed my child. You…damned yourself. You cursed me…and I cannot be rid of it."

The Count slumped in his chair and buried his face into Rona's bedside as he fought back weeping. "I only wanted to love you. I wanted so little from you. You promised me…till death do us part. We've not yet parted…but you are not here." The Count looked up at his wife with two long red trails running down his cheeks. With all the hesitance of walking into sunlight, Janus touched his wife's cold hand. "Why, why have you cursed me so? We could have loved one another forever. Now no one will love me at all."

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Inside the Maids Quarters I wept. I sat alone in the corner of the large common room and quietly cried in the darkness. My heart ached but I was unsure why. Once I had left the Count an overwhelming sadness crippled me…It was like I lost a loved one.

I tried to compose myself as I sniffled and wiped my eyes with my sleeve. I did not understand my current depression. Of course, I was unsure of myself and of the Count now, but it was hardly enough to bring me to tears. It was more a confusing emotion between the Count and me, not something so depressing. I did not know why I cried.

Eventually I pulled myself together enough to be ready for bed. I heard the other servants begin to stir and knew that I could no longer sit and weep.

As quietly as I could I entered my room. Rheena and Tualga were mercifully still asleep, so I climbed into bed without having to utter a word. I set my mind on sleep and tried to banish the mournful feeling that encumbered me. Eventually my fatigue won and pulled me into slumber.

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Many hours had passed and yet the Count remained in the chamber of fate. Outside he felt the sun begin to rise but he could not bring himself to move. He stared at the wall, at his wife, at the floor, and at his hands. His mind never stopped racing. Thoughts both hateful and passionate engulfed him. His mind felt on the verge of cracking now more than ever. What was he to do?

He thought back to when his marriage to Rona began. It was tiresome; his new bride had refused his advances as her husband, she would not consummate the marriage for nearly a year. He allowed it, finding it so very insulting that he had lost any passion towards her. But later on they grew to know one another. It had started with a piano and ended within sheets that held much music but no paper.

From there they had slowly fallen into love, though their marriage was still estranged. They had a tendency to clash like ice and fire over the smallest of things. Rona had been opinionated and it was an admirable quality…until it put their marriage in jeopardy.

The Count needed an heir for Skingrad but Rona could not conceive. She refused the healers he recommended and proclaimed that they must 'give it to the Gods will'. Janus did not take it lightly. The marriage had almost ended in divorce, despite the good years of their youth. But then Rona was with child and it was like a long lost dream had been reimagined. The Count had never been so happy.

"You just had to take my child away from me, didn't you?" He asked venomously to the silent room. "I should have known that you would put your idiotic beliefs before the life and preservation of our child. I should have held you down and forced you to drink." A horrible memory struck the Count then, as though he was transported to the night when they had lost their unborn. He shook it away the best he could but the pain had never left him. "You are a cursed, empty, and cruel woman."

"More than fifty years of loyalty, love, and marriage and what do I have to show for it from you, hmm? Nothing! You have taken fifty years of happiness from me! All you do is take from me…it is all you have ever done." The Count seethed, still staring daggers at his unresponsive wife. His blood began to boil, the muscles in his neck tightened and strained. Hi"Now…now there is another in my life who cannot love me for what I am, Rona. She fears me. She fears my vampirism. Had I not been tending to you for half a decade, I may have been a whole man. Someone to be loved…instead I am this creature of the night who hides his wife IN THE CELLAR!" With that the Count stood and flung the chair he had moments ago occupied into the far wall. It ruined on impact, splinters of wood flew about the chamber, greater parts smashed into some of Rona's possessions.

The Count stood, shaking violently with anger. "I want love again, Rona but not with you. Because you…you have cursed me, didn't you? It is no matter. I will get what is mine." His body quivered with rage and he slid to the floor. He sat, leaning against the wall, still trembling from holding back the urge to destroy anything within reach.

He blamed Rona. All the pain he had gone through for Rona was finally reaching its peak and he could take no more. Janus truly felt cursed. Every mortal aspect of his life was abolished once Rona fell into a coma. He had done so very much to heal her. He had healers from all corners of Tamriel see her and had begged her for days on end to wake. She never did and her last words echoed in his head endlessly.

'Please end my suffering, Janus…and end yours.'

Author's Notes: Oh dear Lord! It's happening man! The next chapter…oh lawdy! Ehem, I cut this chapter in half because again it was far too long. A fair warning: THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE RATED M. I am telling you this beforehand because I may have to bump up the rating for the entire story. See you there!...bring some tissues. XD