A few days late for Halloween, but here it is! So this was supposed to be a tragic little one-shot about Aro using Chelsea (Charmion, back then) in order to get Sulpicia to stop complaining about her confinement. But Mr. "I have a grand story to tell!" wasn't satisfied with that, and so it turned into eleven thousand words of early history of the Volturi in general, and Sulpicia serves more as the personification of Aro's entire domain. We get to see some of his machinations to sculpt his destiny, right down to the very mind and heart of his beloved, throughout his first few centuries. Sadly we don't get to see any of our favorite Guards other than Chelsea/Charmion, as none of them have been born yet, and this all takes place before the Wars against the Egyptians and the Romanians, but this period was quite eventful enough without all of that.
Disclaimer: I did like an hour of research for this, tops. It's daunting enough dealing with pre-Roman-Republic/Greek-Dark-Ages history along the Mediterranean, and it's downright impossible to reconcile SM's unfortunate disregard for historical research with *actual* history, and the Volturi timeline contradicts even itself. So in other words, I was lazy and I'm sure there are some horrible historical gaffes and tons of anachronisms in here (starting with the title, no doubt). Just smile and nod and enjoy the story, and if there's something I can easily fix feel free to let me know.
This is for Kyilliki, a.k.a. the Dark Panlight and honorary queen of the Volturi. Many, many thanks to her, and to the real Panlight (tumblr), and to everyone else who has helped my Volturi headcanon along.
Aro POV
There is no hardship, no matter how great,
that cannot be transformed into an even greater opportunity.
I remembered little of my human father, but I remembered this. It was the maxim he lived by, and that which he taught me to live by. My father was a great man, according to human measures, but he failed in the end. He succumbed, in my thirtieth year, to that hardship which no man can escape: his own mortality. As I watched him grow thinner and smaller, weaker and stupider, I resolved that I would not fail where he had.
And here I was. I had achieved my immortality, and turned its inherent hardships into opportunities. I trained myself to move among humans again. I learned, after hundreds of failed trials, to control myself enough to create others to serve me. I made alliances and destroyed my enemies. I learned, via the gift my immortality had given me, how to search, guide and employ the minds of those I found useful.
I was no longer a vulnerable nomad, skulking in the shadows; first there was Marcus, a young man whose immortal mind was alight with a power he had no use for… power ripe for the taking. With his gift I became skilled in reading the bonds between humans and vampires; we quickly became invincible as a diplomatic force, carving a territory for ourselves and gradually talking its boundaries outward. Next we joined with a mated pair, Caius and Athenadora. Caius was an angry man; his mind was dull but intelligent and eager for conquest and vengeance. Athenodora was his fiery counterpart, her mind equally dull but her loyalty absolute and her ambitions creative. Through their memories and daydreams I began to open my eyes to larger possibilities. I created new vampires, biting and leaving them to writhe in the dirt alone and the coming to their rescue soon after their frightening awakening. I graciously accepted their oaths and sent them away, singing our praises to an open world.
I gave young Marcus a gift one day. Back in my first months of immortality, I had consumed what remained of my human family, minds and blood, but something moved me to spare little Didyme. I left my infant sister in the care of a temple of Apollo, curious what she might become if I were to let her grow and grant her immortality. I enjoyed playing the role of the god himself, entrusting the priestesses with the care of my half-mortal child. I would return one day, I warned them, and their reward would equal the care they had given her. And so when Apollo returned for his Didyme, he found her happy and thriving, and the temple itself happy and thriving around her.
The priestesses begged payment for the hardships they had endured, despite their happiness; men had flocked into the forbidden sanctum of the temple, desperately pursuing young Didyme with their suit. But despite these hardships the priestesses also begged to keep her, weeping for her loss and proclaiming that Pallas Athena herself had appeared and demanded that the child be made a priestess instead. The goddess had, apparently, provided gold for the journey that would send Didyme to another temple in order to protect her from her admirers.
Athenodora did always like sticking her nose in my business.
I took Didyme despite their protests, returning in three days to let her feast on those who had raised her. I told her that I was her brother in truth, and not the god whom she had worshipped as her father all these years. Then I told her the tragic story of how our family had come to an end, slain by a vampire who then died at my hand. She wept in horror at her new life, and I was equally disappointed: her mind had not grown into a brilliant power like mine, as I had hoped. But her presence brought me happiness, nonetheless, and when she grew calm enough to get to know Marcus, she found her own happiness. I blessed the union, more than happy to see young Marcus settled with a vampire whose loyalty I had thought I could doubly command, through both blood and venom.
How wrong I was.
But in the beginning, Didyme turned out to be an even greater asset than I had thought. It had been no coincidence that the temple had grown rich and favored, or her door assaulted by desperate admirers; Didyme's mind may not have grown into what I had hoped, but her spirit had. She fairly glowed with happiness, even when she herself was unhappy. We all felt it, and more importantly, other vampires did as well. Our territory had grown somewhat by this point, encircling most of Greece and Asia Minor. There had always been nomads passing through our lands, humbly seeking permission to feed as they passed by. But with Didyme's gift now calling them like a siren, we had pilgrims. Vampires who had heard of the bliss of her presence now travelled from far corners of the earth to feel the miracle for themselves.
Our fame grew, and I saw in the mind of one of these pilgrims that we were now being called the Greek Coven. Many of the pilgrims were nomads with no purpose or territory, and begged to stay, offering oaths of loyalty. The object of their worship was Didyme herself, but that was acceptable; she had no interest in commanding any loyalty outside of Marcus' heart. As her creator and elder brother, I humbly offered myself as her priest, accepting their oaths to the Greek Coven at large. To some I granted territory along the edges of our own; a border Guard. Some I sent away, offering Didyme's blessing and instructing them to spread the word abroad as they travelled. A select few were kept, once I deemed their minds worthy and Caius deemed their fighting skill worthy. We clad them in cloaks of gray, so that other pilgrims and nomads might learn to recognize and fear them on sight. We simply called them the Guard; all they sought in payment was protection and blood and the happiness that their worship of Didyme brought them. Marcus was irritated at their constant attentions upon his mate- his wife, he now called her defensively- but wise enough to see what those attentions had brought us. He of all people could see the glittering bonds that were being laid down each time an oath was given, strengthening our place in the world. So he quietly remained at her side every moment, graciously sharing her with her admirers while warning them to keep their distance, both with his own teeth and with the new Guards. She was happy enough with this arrangement; Marcus was her whole world now, and she was his.
That was the problem. How Didyme could share my blood and yet not glory in this power for itself, I could not understand. I was grateful for her naiveté, but I was no fool. Her loyalty was only to Marcus now. I conceded that right grudgingly; the ways of love in this new world were still a mystery to me, but I had seen enough to know that it transcended the rights of blood and even venom. And so I found myself in a Coven of five- not myself and my creation, plus three, but myself alone and two mated pairs. There was only one thing for me to do: create a love of my own. I had created one for Marcus, after all, and I was not one to trust these things to the Fates. Covens like ours were a rarity in this new world; most vampires were wild and free, and I decided it was not wise to leave my heart flying loose, in danger of being snagged by something so wild and careless.
I found my medium easily enough. Our territory was growing rapidly now, thanks to our new Guards, expanding into the strange, barbaric lands of Europa. The Etruscan and Roman tribes were hardly civilized, but their blood was exquisite. These people had little in the way of knowledge about our kind, and as an experiment I decided to keep it that way. Even Caius, warlike, passionate Caius, saw the wisdom in this. With the humans blissfully unaware of our nature, we were able to make a permanent settlement on a long stretch of peninsula that grew out into the Great Sea. This placement at the doorway to the world, and our anonymity, granted us access to all sorts of exotic flavors- and granted me access to all sorts of exotic minds. But I found her not in the barbaric market-towns on the coasts, nor in the shipyards, but in a quaint little Roman village.
Sulpicia.
She was a lovely little thing, hardly fourteen years old. Her father had been some sort of chieftain, but he had fallen in battle with a neighboring tribe. At least that was the story she had been given by the weeping survivor, the story I had paid him to tell her. In reality her father and his entire retinue had been served as the main course for our thirst that week. I had been rather upset to learn of the man's importance, when I had taken his thoughts and his blood. We were new at this experiment of anonymity, and it had not been our intent to take any humans of stature. And so I had plucked one screaming soldier from a Guard's greedy hands, filling his own hands with gold and the story he was to tell.
There is no hardship, no matter how great, that cannot be transformed into an even greater opportunity. The story I concocted would be sure to revive another round of enmity between Sulpicia's village and the neighboring tribes- and the more battles between the local humans, the better for us. We had gold enough now to purchase whole armies of slaves for our consumption, and the port with which to do it, but that grew dull at times. And the blood of well-fed soldiers was always superior to that of slaves, fresh off a ship and ill from their voyage.
I followed the human back to the village, letting him see me once or twice on his journey in order to strike fear in his heart, lest he falter in his trust. He clutched the purse of gold and ran home, working himself into a proper frenzy as he wept and moaned and tore his clothes before the noble maiden who ran, alarmed, to hear his report. She despaired to hear of her father's death and withdrew into mourning; that was to be the end of it. I intended to leave her alive, to spread the story and stir up those battles which would serve our thirst well.
But something held me, that night, to stay in the shadows and watch her. When the household was asleep she fled into the gardens and wept again, begging her gods to avenge her father and to give her death, for she no longer had any place in the world. Her betrothed had also been slain- I believe he had been Athenadora's particular favorite dish that day- and now she was utterly distraught. She spilled out more of the story in her prayers: her father had spent the last of his fortune to finance that raid, and it was to have been their salvation, for their enemies were rich in horseflesh. She would need to sell the remaining slaves to settle his debts and, in turn, sell herself in marriage in order to secure some kind of passable future. I took that as my cue.
She gasped when I appeared, for the moon was full and I shone with the brilliance of the gods she had just been praying to. She knelt in proper humility, but I saw the gleam in her eyes before she averted them: she believed her prayers were to be answered. I touched her face tenderly, and my own breath caught as her mind rushed into my own. She was a delight! For a woman, especially in these uncouth hills, to have such a mind! She was hungry for all sorts of learning, for all sorts of excitement, but most of all for power, at least such power as the daughter of a lesser chieftain might aspire to. She was strong enough to beg the gods for death, rather than lose that power. I tipped her face upwards and she unabashedly gazed up at me, who she thought her blessed doom; her rescue from a base and unworthy future.
"But there is another future for you," I heard myself saying. I had not thought to seek out a woman such as this; I had imagined myself choosing some random specimen of great beauty and dull mind, someone soft who would willingly be formed as I chose. I was to be a sculptor, forming my Galatea not out of ivory or marble, but out of flesh and blood, to become living marble upon her completion. How, then, was it my own heart that I felt being carved asunder? I found myself pulling the girl up to stand with me, babbling like a fool and promising her an immortality in which she would be a queen. I promised her the blood of the tribe who had killed her father; I promised her the whole world. I promised her the stars, if she would come with me. I promised her unchanging beauty, bright and terrible. I promised her an army of fifteen gods and goddesses to serve us; I hadn't half that number, and most of those were border Guards, but that could be changed. I promised her riches and a castle and an empire that would circle the Sea. Her eyes grew wide as she listened; when the promise of my venom had changed from a gift into a suit I could not say. All I knew was that this was the woman, and some misbegotten part of my mind needed her to come willingly.
That should have been warning enough that I had met my doom. I had, as a new vampire, carefully scorned the gods once I realized that my immortality was at least equal to their own. But I had forgotten the Fates, whom no man may scorn.
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Sulpicia more than lived up to my promises; her beauty was indeed great and terrible. Her first act was to feast upon the entirety of the tribe I had promised her. She screamed her father's name as she fed, and I laughed indulgently as she bathed herself in their blood. When it was over, she washed in the Tiber and journeyed with me back to our home on the peninsula. When we crested the last peak from which she could see her village, she looked back at her old life with her new eyes. I grew anxious, for she stood and stared for two full days and nights, her wild newborn mind awash with things I did not understand. But then she turned to me and laid her hand upon my lips, thinking that my venom was the source of her immortality. Now, she thought simply. I knew, then, that my heart was not the only one that had been carved and given away. I took her offering and gave her mine, and we knew happiness.
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By the time Sulpicia was civilized enough to take her place, we were being called the Mediterranean Coven. I had little care for the ruling of our territory in those days; my mind was consumed with Sulpicia and with giving her every gift I could conceive of. I tore down the ruined fortress we had been calling home and built her a castle. She praised me for my cleverness in concealing our nature from the human natives, and she soon began coming up with new ideas of how to perfect the subterfuge. She delighted in the gifts and travels I conjured for her pleasure, and she learned voraciously, but she also took a keen interest in our affairs closer to home. We laughed and schemed and whispered in the dark, dreaming of ways to expand our little empire. I had chosen my queen well; now that I reveled in my glorious bride and her brilliant, delicious mind, I was glad that my heart had faltered in its plans. I had always grasped what I could, but now I had found my inspiration for doing what I had always done. My Galatea had become my Muse.
Caius was rather fond of Sulpicia, as a brother should be; he was especially glad that my fascination with her kept me out of his hair for a time. I had, in desiring to keep my promise to Sulpicia, created five new vampires to serve in our Guard, and he was quite busy wrangling their appetites and their instruction. Marcus showed little interest in my bride, though he was genuinely happy for me. I was disappointed to see, via his slightly smug thoughts, that my bond with Sulpicia could not rival his bond with Didyme. But I tried not to let it upset me; Didyme had a supernatural power over poor Marcus. He was just as enslaved by her aura as anyone else, more so for his unique closeness to her. Didyme herself was reserved, disturbed by Sulpicia's thirst for blood and dominion, but she never failed to be gracious and kind; but that was always her way.
Athenodora was skeptical of Sulpicia at first; she had always been far more ambitious than Didyme, and never thought her a threat. And so she had wielded, unfettered, that power that some women hold over their husbands. Caius was a terror to his enemies in battle, and a menace to those who served beneath him, but his heart was led on a string by Athenodora. I still had his mind, when I chose to, but she had never begrudged me that power. But now that I had a mate of my own, she felt threatened. She knew, even better than Caius did, that I was the true power behind every success, and so she would never have openly been unkind to her new sister, but she was wary. Sulpicia did not want or miss this companionship, though I cautioned her that Athenodora was to be treated as her equal. She was not, of course, and Sulpicia was wise enough to see this; but in her own little human way she had already become accustomed to playing that sort of game. She copied Didyme instead, wearing a gracious smile to cover a feline apprehension. Athenodora soon relaxed, though they were not friends.
But this new peace did not last; Sulpicia grew jealous of Didyme's admirers. I tried to explain the politics of this benefit, but when a woman's pride is wounded, a man may exhaust himself in vain trying to mend it. She was quick to heed my warnings, though she was still young, both in mind and in immortality; her mask slipped at times. Didyme herself was too sweet to realize the stirrings beneath the surface of Sulpicia's manners, but she felt them nonetheless, because she, too, was unhappy. She was restless in the enclosure of our new castle. And while we all ventured out to hunt and travel, she had grown tired of the pilgrims that were always passing through to taste her aura. She came to hate her gift, wishing for seclusion with only Marcus and ourselves for company. But within the castle she was equally restless, a problem which was aggravated by Sulpicia's coolness.
I saw it in Marcus' mind one day: he and Didyme had been thinking about going off on their own. He was watching me hesitantly for my reaction when he deliberately gave me his thoughts; I knew not what reaction to give. I did not, as Marcus' equal, have the right to enforce his place in the Coven, and I had long since lost any influence I had over Didyme's loyalty. But I was deeply hurt by his disloyalty; he had been my first ally and friend. Didyme's I could forgive, though the thought of losing her pained me deeply.
But there was more at stake than my personal happiness. I had worked hard to build the little empire that now circled the Great Sea, and I had, on my more ambitious days, more plans for its expansion. Marcus had always been a deadly fighter, and that loss would be crippling. But even more so, his gift had always been the key to our diplomatic successes. More often than not we avoided violence altogether, using Marcus' insight in order to splinter our enemies' alliances and talk ourselves into dominion. When violence became inevitable, his gift became even more crucial, allowing us to target the correct vampires in order to dissolve the purpose of whatever enemy force had been gathered against us, at minimal cost to ourselves.
And Marcus was not the only power I stood to lose. I would not miss Didyme's devoted pilgrims, to be sure, but that was how the Guard had begun. Would I still be able to command their loyalty, if the true object of their affections, and the aura of happiness she projected, were to leave the area? And there was an even greater risk: neither Marcus or Didyme were in and of themselves, ambitious. They both wanted nothing more than peace, whether that would come through wandering or through carving themselves a quiet little corner of the world to call their own. But I had enemies, some of which were far stronger than me. And many of those wandering nomads had the potential to grow in power if they were to attach themselves to Marcus and Didyme, to say nothing of the tremendous surge in power that my truer enemies would gain if they were to lure the happy couple into their clutches.
All of this and more flashed through my mind during the seconds that Marcus shared his thought, watching for my reaction. Should I attempt to forbid their departure? That seemed foolish; there was no quicker way to lose their loyalty than to try and command it. I smiled and wished him every happiness, deciding behind that smile to watch and wait.
I withdrew to Sulpicia's rooms afterward, to contemplate this new problem. I found her comfort cold, which prompted her immediate demand for information. I could never resist her curiosity; it so reminded me of my own.
"There is a new threat," I confessed, tracing her brow with my finger. Her mind flew to images of snarling little armies; if only it were that sort of threat! I smiled sadly as she imagined me, her god of war, shining and victorious as I slew my enemies.
"I am hesitant to act. Some wars are too costly."
"You promised we would rule," she whispered in the dark. "You said you would make me the queen of an empire that circled the Sea. You swore these things."
"And you have them," I pointed out.
She laid her hand in mine, her eyes bright and trusting. And what are you willing to do so that I may keep them?
I drew her close and kissed her hair. "Anything, dearest one," I murmured in her ear. "I would do anything."
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My course was decided for me in a matter of weeks. My sister had not offered her hand to me in over a year, but the change in her demeanor was obvious. As she and Marcus discussed their plans, she seemed to bloom with life. Her aura of happiness trembled with new energy as she contemplated her freedom, and my heart ached with renewed love for the infant sister I had spared. But princes are not permitted to let their hearts rule; there are times when we must be stern and swift in judgment in order to preserve that which is entrusted to us… that which we have promised, in the dark, to preserve. The simple facts were these: Marcus and Didyme could not leave. Marcus had always given me his loyalty until now. Didyme had not. If I lost Marcus' gift, the potential consequences would be disastrous, both in terms of my own loss and my enemies' gain. If I lost Didyme's gift, the consequences could be contained. Marcus was a valuable fighter. Didyme was not.
It was done later that same month. Didyme had a habit of hunting alone, and she had always liked to run in the rain; she loved Marcus and tolerated her admirers, but she had this one refuge of solitude. I circled around to the far side of the village she was heading for. I called out to her, saying I would spend time with my sister before her travels would take her away from me. She wept then, saying she had no wish to leave me, and promised to visit, and said all those things that girls say when they leave their family. I wept as well and embraced the sister I loved so dearly, cursing the Fate that had made her betray me in the end, and that now forced my hand. I would have done it then, but my heart faltered for there was no fire prepared; I would harden my heart to carry out the execution, but she must not suffer.
We walked for a time around the village, tasting the scents on the air. I teased my sister about her peculiar appetites- for she only took old men and women, out of the kindness of her heart- and even gave her a gift: a memory that was new to her. It was not a memory of my own; I had gathered it from the mind of another of our sisters as I took her memory and blood that fateful night. Didyme laughed as I recounted the story of how she, the petted baby of the family, had smeared mashed olives upon my face one day, when our mother had so foolishly asked me to feed her. I drew her near to a fire around which were gathered some miserable peasants, pointing out two of the older ones to her.
"I will take the others," I promised. For our little experiment was now Law, which even we ourselves obeyed; we had no wish to leave our castle, and so we continued to keep the humans unaware of our presence.
I struck just as she began to pounce, and just as the humans began to turn their heads. I moved too fast for their eyes; I would leave them alive to tell the tale. All they heard was the single burst of her cry before her throat was torn from her breath. All they saw was the outward explosion of sparks from the pitiful fire, and the beautiful face of a goddess that seemed to suddenly appear in the flames. It was gone in the blink of an eye, consumed in a cloud of purple smoke and the sweet stench of death.
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Marcus' grief was terrible to behold. His search for Didyme quickly ended when the humans gave witness to the miracle they had seen. He killed everyone in the village, and when he came home he killed all of Didyme's Guards and burned them in a great fire right in the main hall of the castle. It took Caius, Athenodora and myself to restrain him from throwing himself in the fire. We held him while Sulpicia extinguished the flames, and then he crumpled to the ground tearing at his hair and wailing and screaming like a madman for us to let him die. We could not leave him alone; whenever he had an arm free he would tear at himself with his own teeth, his mind eager to escape us so he could build another fire.
I wept with my brother there in the Great Hall, for I had lost my sister. My little Didyme! I had loved her so; why could we not have all lived forever in happiness? Why did she have to take her light away from me?! I felt her loss more with every passing day; we all did. Without the aura of her gift, we all found ourselves cold and sad. Caius was beside himself, tearing the countryside apart for evidence of the killer; he was afraid to let Athenodora outside the walls until the mystery had been solved. When I recovered from my first grief I went out to help him search, careful to fear equally for Sulpicia's security, lest he suspect me. We had only the two home Guards left, after Marcus' anger had been spent on the others; these were left to guard our wives as we searched. Marcus himself was too weak with thirst and grief to harm himself now. He was too weak to stand or even speak; he was a miserable ball of stone grief that refused to be carried out of the bed he had shared with my sister.
We returned at intervals, bringing humans home to feed our Wives and their Guards. We did not feed Marcus; we had no more manpower with which to Guard him against himself, and so we left him in his bed, trembling and petrifying in his agony. At long last we gave up the search, returning home to find that our Wives had grown close in their confinement, their grief turned to pity for poor Marcus.
We all held vigil over him for a time, each lost in our own thoughts. I was dismayed at Marcus' disability; he and Didyme had been together for hardly more than a century! I was in awe of the bond he must have had with her, to be so destroyed by her loss. I was grateful, now, for that observation Marcus had made when I had brought my bride home, how our bond was less powerful than his own. As an experiment I imagined losing my Sulpicia.
And then I understood.
The pain was so great, so very great! If my heart had been chipped and carved and reformed when I had given her my love, it was blown to pieces at this one thought. I fell to my knees at Marcus' bedside like a man wailing to the gods at an altar. My cries frightened the others, and would not stop until Sulpicia was crushed by my blind embrace. The others mistook my grief, laying their hands on my skin to assure me of their own sorrow over Didyme's loss.
"Didyme," I cried, barely altering the word in time as it crossed my lips. SULPICIA! You can never, never be in danger again! I knew, in that moment, the mistake that I had made. I had not safely anchored my heart by creating this woman: I had torn it out of my own chest, and it now lay trembling and vulnerable to the open air. I had formed a blade and turned it on this heart which now lay outside me, ready to pierce my sanity at any moment I should drop it. The Fates had returned my scorn, laughing as they allowed me to create my own doom.
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As soon as the moment seemed right, I approached Caius. He was relieved to learn that we shared the same fear, when I sought him out privately and insisted that our Wives needed more protection. Our first task was to create and train more home Guards. We considered bringing Marcus some blood, once we had enough muscle to keep him safe, but it seemed kinder to leave him to his private agony for the moment. Two of the new Guards were appointed as Hunters, and it became their task to bring blood home so that we did not have to leave Athenodora and Sulpicia as often.
Caius was distraught. He wanted to see Athenodora free and happy again, but he told himself that her security must be his first concern. The women drew even closer, finding solace in one another during their confinement; as they felt their power being taken slowly away, they had no further reason to quarrel. And when Sulpicia looked on me with hurt and accusation, I had little comfort to offer her. I had done what I did for her sake, after all; it pained me that I could not share with her the depth of that truth. When she finally grew restless enough to challenge me one day, asking what had become of that war that was too costly, I answered her with all the candor I could allow myself: that it was still upon us. She stared at me for a moment, her eyes falling black and inscrutable. I reached for her hand, anxious to see how she was interpreting my statement, but for the first time she twisted out of my grip and withdrew, leaving me standing alone with the one thought I had been able to hear in time.
It has cost you more than you think.
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Our Empire continued to grow, but it brought no joy to any of us. When Caius finally felt it was safe to do so, he ventured out with much of the new Guard, ceaselessly patrolling our vast territory and hoping to be challenged. He still felt guilty about Athenodora's confinement, and angry that he could not solve Didyme's murder and save our brother, and his old wounds still ached for vengeance against those enemies that we were still too small to challenge.
I focused my efforts closer to home. Desperate to ease Sulpicia's unhappiness, I worked to make the castle more of a home. I brought in humans to improve and beautify the structure, and then brought in more human slaves to serve us and sustain us. We had always had a few slaves, since the castle had been built, but there was no reason we could not live as kings and queens, when that was what we were. Our main source of blood still came from our territory, but Sulpicia should want for nothing. It was a simple matter to keep the slaves compartmentalized so that most of them were unaware of our nature at any given time. And with more minds being brought through our doors, I was free to travel the world without going outside our walls. I touched every mind I could, seeking for a cure for poor Marcus: for rumors of healers, shamans, priests, oracles, anything that might be turned into a vampire which might be able to bring him back to us. This was out of love for my brother, but also out of anger for myself; I had executed my sister in order to keep him, and for what? For him to lay on his bed, curled and frozen? This could not be borne.
And that is how a hardship, though it was great, was transformed into an even greater opportunity.
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I had seen the woman Charmion in the mind of a Greek slave. I said nothing to Caius, or to anyone, afraid it might come to nothing; I made the journey alone. She was right where the slave's memory had left her: standing in the shadows of a great tent erected on a field of battle. There was death all around, for Greece was ready to fall to her enemies. But inside the tent there was peace- men rank on rank standing quietly with their enemies as they watched their kings speak and treat quietly upon a dais, shadowed against the dying sun. And there in those shadows stood the woman, garbed in the robes of a priestess. A woman should never have been permitted this sight, but I already knew of her role; she was a talisman, a silent oracle who served the vanquished king and silently worked to bring about as favorable a peace as she could. Her mere presence had stopped the fighting the month before, when my fortunate slave had been sold and the Fates had sent him to me. And now, it was time for me to see if I could usurp the Fates forever.
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I used the same method that had succeeded two centuries ago, when I had created a series of vampires to serve as propaganda. I took the woman and bit her in the dark, careful not to speak or reveal anything about myself which might allow her to identify me later on. As my teeth and hands took hold, I choked on her blood in wonder, for her mind was indeed a kind of treasure I had never thought to seek. New dreams arose, distracting me from my task: the cure of my brother, but far more than that. I saw an empire that had no territory... that needed no territory, for it was an empire of minds. I saw my divinity realized and my greatest enemies burning in a cloud of ash. I nearly killed the girl, greedily devouring her blood as I devoured the world in my dreams. But I had not come this far to fail now.
I deposited her among the rocks of an abandoned shipyard, destroyed in the humans' little wars; she woke alone and afraid. I watched from afar as she massacred a family of fishermen and wept in her confusion on the beach, and then I played my newest role.
I took a little coracle that was still in good repair, delighting in the difficulty of my task; I had never, as a vampire or human, managed any kind of vessel on my own. Using purely the memories of those I had touched, I quickly learned to master the oar and went out to sea, coming ashore to find the newborn staring at me in wonder. I was glistening in the sunlight and she must have mistaken me for a god, for she knelt in the sand; rather amusing, considering she was glistening also. But in this role, I was a humble creature of the earth like herself.
"It is true, then," I whispered in Greek as I clambered ashore, speaking loud enough for her to hear. "The oracle spoke of this day; that I would find her on this very shore!"
She looked up, now realizing that we were the same.
"Rise, young one," I said grandly. "Who is your maker?"
"My maker?"
I pretended disgust. "Alas! There are many demons among our kind who cast their venom carelessly, Charmion… that is your name, is it not? Or perhaps the oracle was mistaken…"
Her eyes grew wide. "My name is Charmion."
"Ah! Then it is all true. You are the one who is destined to bring my brother's mind back to him."
"I am no healer. I am…" she looked down upon her new skin with horror and began to weep, striking angrily at her dry eyes. " I do not know what I am."
"I will instruct you, young one. For that is why I have been sent, to lead you in this new life. You are to save my brother, and I am to lift you up above the armies of the immortal gods. You are to bring peace and unity where there is chaos."
Her eyes lifted with hope at this last promise; that had always been her role. I held out my hand to her, ready to strike if she should decide to wield her mysterious powers against me. She looked back at the tent upon the field of battle, hesitating; I was glad to see her loyalty, both now and before, when she had not deserted her king for his conqueror. That was a good omen.
"You have served the mortals well," I praised her. "But now it is time for you to take your place among immortals." She laid her hand upon mine and I eagerly took in her new mind. I saw no clear evidence of her power having grown, but neither had I tested it yet. But I was not disappointed, for curled in the recesses of her expanded mind I could feel a coiled power, just waiting to be sprung. I also saw that she could already perceive our bond; her acuity was nothing like Marcus', but she already saw that she was meant to serve me, and that my intentions toward her were good.
"Good, indeed…" I breathed, staring into her red eyes with excitement. "I will take you home now, Charmion. And I will swear you an oath: that you will never have to serve a defeated king again."
As the sounds of Greece faded behind us, I heard the clash of weapons as Charmion's king found himself without her power.
That was an even better omen.
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"Caius!" I called excitedly. "Come down here and see this!"
The gate to the lower training rooms flung open angrily, slamming and deforming against the wall. "Have you gone completely mad?" Caius thundered, pointing to the stinking pile of embers and ash that lay between us. It was all that remained of the guard Amyntor. "I thought Marcus was the only one stupid enough to light the death fire inside the castle!"
"Peace, brother!" I laughed. "Now watch." I turned to another Guard, who stood serenely against the far wall with his red eyes fixed on me in worship. I snapped my fingers at him. "Secundus!"
He snapped out of his trance. "Yes, Master?"
Caius frowned, looking at me. "'Master'?" I waved him into silence.
"Secundus, end yourself," I commanded. The Guard immediately began to tear at his arms and hands with his teeth, and threw himself upon the smoldering ashes. Caius jumped back in horror as the flames leapt back up and took him. He did not even cry out.
I laughed, clapping my hands in delight and praise of Charmion, who was not even present. "Do you see, brother?" I said eagerly. "My little trip was not in vain."
"I see nothing," Caius said harshly, "except that you are an idiot. The whole point was to find someone who would prevent Marcus from taking his own life! And what was that 'Master' nonsense?"
I sighed in disappointment. Caius was always so short-sighted; but that was probably for the best. "I don't know about that part," I confessed. "They just started saying it when she bound them. But this was only her extreme effort, of course! I am only testing her at this point, refining her. Once she learns control, we will bind Marcus to ourselves, but only enough that he will not take his own life against our wishes."
"Test all you want," Caius growled, stalking away. "But use the human slaves from now on! It took me fifty years to get those two in order."
"My apologies, brother," I said softly as he disappeared around the corner. "But I think you will soon discover a whole new world of order."
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Ten months later, Charmion was ready for her appointed task. She spent a full hour in Marcus' bedchamber, staring down at my brother in his stone misery. I held her hand the whole time, watching in wonder through her gift as the new bonds were laid down. When she gave me a nod of satisfaction, I had two slaves brought in. I had to bite the first one myself, holding the human up to Marcus' lips until he had enough strength to drink on his own. As his mind and thirst began to blur back into focus, I quickly asked Charmion to bring in two more humans. By the time Marcus was sated, the room was covered with so much blood he might as well have been a newborn.
"Didyme," he cried, clutching at my robe in desperation. "Slay me, brother. I cannot linger when she is calling!"
I embraced my brother, genuinely full of joy to see him speak again. But my greatest joy was to see the new bonds that his own gift betrayed in perfect clarity; Charmion had wielded her power well. "The time to mourn has passed," I said gently. "We have other work to do."
"Other work to do," he echoed dully. He cried out to Didyme once more, and then rose to clean himself. I wished with all my heart that Charmion's power could have healed him of his grief, but it could not. But it was enough; my brother came before Caius and myself in the Great Hall later that day. His eyes were dull with grief, but he was composed. And when he turned his gaze on me, full of hurt at the betrayal he could plainly see, I smiled at him and gestured for him to take his place at my right hand.
And over in the shadows stood Charmion, full of relief at her success and in my pride, which had solidified her place. I nodded to her slightly and she turned her eyes to Caius.
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I was slow to employ Charmion in the years that followed. Caius was too dull to see that she had stirred his own mind, just with the very lightest of touches. He still shouted at me and got his way when I thought it best. But he was too occupied with our new experiments to bother much about his own loyalty, which had never wavered in the first place. We began making and testing new Guards, using Charmion's gift at various levels to see what had the greatest benefit. It would be foolish to forge any of those extreme bonds which she had achieved in those first days; half the power was found in ensuring that the one bound was unaware of the change. This was impossible with Marcus, of course, but in most cases a delicate hand produced a mind ready to serve, but still strong in itself.
But even as we worked at this new possibility, another one was stirring in my mind. I had encountered few like myself, Marcus, Didyme and Charmion: those who had that extra brightness of some power in their mind. I had found it occasionally, but it was rarely the kind of power that was worth using; I had little use for a mind that could conjure rainbows and even less for one that could divine truth from lie. It was true that I had transformed Didyme with the hope that some power would erupt from our shared blood. But it was not really until Charmion that this new possibility ignited in my mind, bringing forth greater dreams. What if I were to seek out these vampires? What if I were to try transforming certain humans, like I had Didyme and Charmion, to see if some power would blossom in their new minds? Could I really achieve that empire I had envisioned by the Sea, an empire not of land but of minds? With Charmion at my side it might be possible. I had lost the loyalty of our border Guards soon after Didyme's death, but that sort of defection would not be possible now.
I thought, briefly, about replacing Marcus with her; but she was no warrior. Even if she was, I would not risk her in battle. And Marcus' gift of discernment was far greater than her own; I needed him now more than ever. In any case, she was content. She knew that she was poised between servant and equal, if not with myself then with Caius and Marcus. This had ever been her role, and she knew far more freedom in it now, in her immortal life. I had given her more oaths and promises, each time she achieved what tasks I set before her. As of yet she had not made any claims to reward; perhaps she would someday. If she grew too great in her own eyes, I would slay her in an instant, and she knew this; her hand was always forfeit to mine, to ensure her own loyalty. But I had little worry; she had no desire to rule in her own right, and she still fervently believed in the prophecy that had brought me to find her in Greece. The shadows were her domain, and she was content. I now turned my mind to a problem closer to my heart.
Sulpicia.
I had been so busy, these last few years. I had given little time to my beloved, but in truth she would not have me. She was pleased that Marcus had improved, but every other step I took to ensure our future made her withdraw further. The farther Caius and I stretched out our grasp, the more careful we were to protect those we loved. More Guards now stood watch over our Wives, and this time we did not fear their treachery. There were thrones in the Great Hall now, but there were only three. Didyme's murder had never been solved, after all. We still had envoys and nomads to deal with, and we would not think of exposing our dear ones to the roving eyes of our visitors. For we had pilgrims again; this time they were drawn not to the joy of Didyme, but to the greatness of the Volturi.
Latin was a barbaric, emotional tongue, fit only for those barefoot villages and huts that had unwittingly produced my beloved and so many of our new Guards. But Caius had a fondness for its stark emotion, and had one day jokingly applied the term Volturi to our experiments, leaving the walls stained with blood and venom and ash: I take. I assign to myself. I register. I consume. I had scathingly replied that he was the one who kept consuming, splattering about the remains of our failed experiments in strength and loyalty and madness. But what had begun as a private joke became our new title, as we tentatively rid ourselves of the outmoded idea of plain territory. It was a message to those enemies that were still too great for us to challenge: we are coming. We will triumph, not in land and blood but in fealty and power. We will consume. In later years we would be compared to birds of prey, feasting on the spoils of the vampire civilizations that we were destined to destroy; an uncouth comparison, perhaps, but not inaccurate... if a bit hyperbolic. We had no intention of destroying anyone except those who stood between us and utter dominion. We introduced our new name to a few passing nomads, and sent them off with our blessing and a brief glance from Charmion; they did the rest for us.
I laughed at the future, watching as my dreams revealed themselves. But true joy was not within my grasp, for Sulpicia shunned me. She understood, with that keen mind of hers, that my first love was power, not her. But if only I could make her see! Without her adoration, it was all meaningless. I was driven, true, but to what end? If only she would look at me as she first had, with trust and worship and hope and revel in this power with me! Did she not see that I had so much more to offer her now? Could she not see that power only begot power? I needed her in order to enjoy it properly. If I protected her too much, it was only because she was so terribly dear to me. She was my heart, if not my source. Despite the power I had surrounded myself with, I stood to lose everything- either by instant tragedy of the kind Marcus had suffered, or by the slow decay of my happiness if she continued to keep herself from me. She was only hurting herself, by hurting me; I was her heart and her source.
And thus I ventured into a new blasphemy, taking up my tools again to perfect my Galatea. This time I had no fear of the laughter of the Fates, for they, too, served me now.
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Today was the day; I would need to be careful. Sulpicia knew of Charmion's power, and so did Caius. They both also knew that I had turned that power on our brother, and were wary of the day I might turn it on them. It had been turned on Caius immediately; that had been the first real test of Charmion's delicacy. If I was to wield that power in the magnitude necessary to alter my beloved, Caius would know. He would need to think it was his idea. And it would be; I would see to that. But first I needed to tend the garden in which I was soon to sow the seed; I would give Sulpicia a little gift to remind her of our love, before she learned what it could truly mean.
I found what I was seeking out in the servants' courtyard, hanging up linens to dry in the sunshine with another slave. Their chatter ceased as they saw me crossing the courtyard toward them, glittering like a god. Both their hearts raced as I drew nearer, and they averted their eyes.
"Ah, Glykeria!" I said grandly, stopping in front of her. "I've found you at last."
She raised her eyes slightly. "My lord?"
I frowned, scanning over her appearance. She was coated with odiferous sweat from her morning of labor, her tunic had several threadbare spots- not visible to her human eyes, but still- and her hair was dry and bound in an ugly, ragged knot. And what was that horrible stench on her breath? I laid my hand on her face, which made her tremble. I sifted through the onslaught of her new memories, reveling in the barbaric twists and turns of her native tongue.
I had bought her in early winter, as a gift: she was the closest to pure violet I had ever smelled. Sulpicia's favorite. But instead of giving my beloved her treat that day, I had stashed it away deep in the servant's wing, assigning the girl duties which would never bring her near Sulpicia. She had been on a special diet ever since: only grains and sweet foods. She was forbidden to have meat, fish, or any bitter herbs or vegetables. Plenty of candied violets, and she was only permitted to bathe in oils made from certain floral essences. I even gave her a new name, to replace the unseemly mouthful she had been saddled with at birth.
Glykeria. Sweetness. Her scent had grown even sweeter with her new treatment; I had been saving her for a time like this, when such an offering was needed. But was everything to go against me today?! I saw in her memory that she had snuck into the kitchen early this morning, craving flesh, and had stolen a strip of smoked fish. Today, of all days! I gripped her jaw in anger, reminding myself not to spoil her ahead of time. Sulpicia must only have perfection.
"How you plague me, sweetness," I sighed, speaking in her language. Her eyes flew up to meet mine then, surprised to hear her tongue spoken for the first time since her captivity. She blushed, mistaking my attentions. She had often wondered why she was receiving special treatment here in her new home, suspecting that I would come for her one of these days. That day had come, though it was not what she thought.
"You will do no more work today," I told her, touching her face more tenderly.
I knew it!
I laughed, bringing my hand down as I turned to her companion, who was glaring daggers at the maiden who triumphantly thought she had caught my eye. "Glykeria will be bathed now," I told her abruptly in Greek. "And I want her mouth cleansed, and her nails painted with…" I scanned the garden, striding over to a bush of violets and selecting a petal that seemed right. "This color," I announced, laying the petal in the slave's hand. "You will massage her with her special oil, also her hair. And she must have only candied violets to eat in her bath, and nothing to drink. No flesh," I added, casting a sharp glance back at Glykeria. She blushed again and lowered her eyes, no doubt wondering how I had divined her secret theft. "Bring her back here to me in two hours. Oh, and have her dressed in white silk."
The slave bowed her head, leading Glykeria away. I waited in the gardens, poring over the bushes to select the most perfect sprig of violets. It seemed only a moment later when Glykeria returned alone, smelling much better. She was delicately wrapped in white silk, with trailing fringes hanging down to frame her freshly painted nails. Her hair was swept up in a little tower, shimmering with oil.
"Ah, you are perfect!" I proclaimed, walking around her in inspection. I plucked the sprig of violet and carefully nestled it in her hair. "Come with me, sweetness. We must be silent," I added severely, finishing with a teasing smile that made her scent bloom upon her blush. Exquisite! I stood back to admire my handiwork again, feeling my throat burn with appreciation. How I wanted the treat for myself! But alas, such was love: to sacrifice such things on the altar of worship.
I led her silently to the hall adjoining Sulpicia's rooms, tapping on the door behind which I could detect her scent. "Are you within, my darling?" I called lightly.
"Where else would I be?" came the curt reply.
Glykeria stiffened beside me, suddenly unsure of her position. I tightened my grip on her shoulder imperceptibly, slipping my fingers under the folds of her tunic; it was so intriguing how various humans mentally reacted to these abrupt shifts in their circumstances. Glykeria, like most of the slaves in the lower halls, knew nothing of the nature of her masters. "I've brought you a gift!" I called out.
The door opened immediately. Sulpicia. She was clad in purple, her golden hair woven in a complex array of braids and shining along its length. She looked every inch a queen, even more so now that she was so often angry with me; the crimson eyes that had once looked on me with worship now flashed with disappointment. The cream of her skin and the symphony of her mind, once both mine to touch as I pleased, formed the same forbidden statue now. How my heart trembled, aching to see her smile return without reservation! How my gift pained me, needing to hear her thoughts! It was a terrible, glorious feeling. She was terrible and glorious.
Her nostrils flared delicately as her darkening eyes caught on the treat I had brought her. I knew that look; she was aching to attack but would refuse to show any interest in my effort. She was a delight! "Well?" she said imperiously.
I grinned, knowing she could not resist. I let Glykeria go and gave her a shove, and she ran down the hall in shrieking fear. Sulpicia pounced, losing herself in the delicacy I had prepared for her. I watched her with adoring eyes as she fed, and when she stood, still angry but greedily finishing the blood that lay on her lips, my heart melted. How could I mar this woman with my tools? Her indignant pride was exquisite! Perhaps it would not need to be done.
"It took me six months to get her to smell like that," I offered.
But she drew closer, and drew her hand back as if to strike me. Instead she composed herself and laid a hand like a claw upon my face to give me the first thought in months: That is not the gift I seek! You toil ceaselessly, Aro, but what has happened to your promises? You said you would make me a queen, but you have made me a prisoner. I want freedom, from these walls and from you! That is the only gift I seek.
Ah, she did not mean that; we both knew what anger can do to twist the words of women. I closed my eyes and held her hand tight against my cheek, drinking in her mind like a man dying of thirst. But she jerked her hand away.
"You are no prisoner, dearest," I protested. "There is the courtyard, and I will take you anywhere your heart desires."
"Having ten Guards hovering over my every step is not freedom," she replied icily. I smiled sadly at her back as she spun and disappeared back into her rooms. My course was decided, then; I had seen new poisons in her mind that would destroy both of us, if they were allowed to fester.
"Peace, my love," I soothed. "You shall have your freedom soon."
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"I don't understand women, Caius," I complained.
I had chosen this day wisely. Sulpicia was sated with her treat, and Caius was enraged as he stormed into the Great Hall. He and Athenodora had been quarrelling again; their fights were much more spectacular than Sulpicia's and mine. Athenodora was wise, but had little restraint over her passions, much like her mate. It would take the slaves weeks to repair the damage to her rooms made today. Perhaps the task should be assigned to the Guards so it could be done more quickly. It was just as well, for we lost another slave as Caius made his way between the archway and his throne. He lashed out in his rage, grabbing the slave and throwing him against the stone wall.
"Nor do I," he snarled, swishing his cloak angrily aside to seat himself. I sighed at his wastefulness, calling for one of our younger Guards to come and feast on the casualty of my brother's rage. Caius looked on as the Guard fed, his anger slowly cooling as we waited for privacy. "I ask so little," he hissed, turning to me as the Guard exited with a bow. "Must she be so infuriatingly difficult?!"
"I sympathize, brother," I sighed, and recounted to him my failed offering this morning. Caius enjoyed far greater access to his mate than I did; their passionate natures were not built for the long silences that Sulpicia and I were so skilled at hurting each other with. But he, too, was at his wit's end, and his raw emotion did not allow him to harden his heart the way that I could. And therein lay the key to my success, for I knew Caius as well as he knew himself. I also knew that Athenodora was not really the problem; she was old and wise enough to see that her power had never changed. Sulpicia was the one poisoning her against Caius, out of spite towards me. But this would still need to come from Caius, in order for him to never suspect that Charmion's touch already lay on his own mind.
"It breaks my heart," I continued, dropping my voice to the level of conspiracy; setting the mood is the necessary preface to any role. "I want to see Sulpicia happy again. Yet she asks more than I can give."
"Exactly!" he whispered back, his eyes pained. "I am no monster. I would give Athena the world- I have given her the world, and yet she is not content! All I ask is that she let me keep her safe, that I bring the world to her…"
"The world!" I sighed. "What good is the world in our hands if we cannot bring peace to our own household? Is this our doom, to conquer in power, only to wither within? To bring our order to a world of chaos, when we cannot bring happiness home?"
Caius' fist tightened upon his throne, crumbling the marble to dust.
"What are we to do, brother?" I asked mournfully.
We sat in silence as it slowly dawned upon Caius' dull mind. He looked guilty, and then doubtful; I itched to touch his hand, to make sure his thoughts were heading in the direction I had steered them, but it would not do, not right now.
"There is Charmion," he said at last.
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I had not intended for Sulpicia to be aware of Charmion's intervention. I tried using the same subtle influence that instantly worked with Athendodora; her loyalty to Caius had never really faltered, and she needed but a little nudge to calm her protests. But the Fates would have their way in this; I would have to suffer in order to achieve this particular miracle. But I was willing, and the miracle itself should make the suffering brief.
Once I made up my mind, there was no point in hiding what I was doing. Charmion filed into Sulpicia's rooms right behind me, and my beloved saw her fate an instant before it began. She turned to attack Charmion, and I held her fast.
There was no need! she thought wildly. I would never have betrayed you!
"I know," I said softly, shifting my grip so as not to hurt her as she struggled against me. "Hurry," I snapped to Charmion.
But it took a full day and night for her will to die. I wept as I held her, begging her forgiveness even as she screamed at me, cursed me, clawed at me. Her mind was strong, so very strong, and it was the greatest tragedy of my existence to watch her glorious pride soften and weaken as Charmion exhausted herself in her effort. I ordered her to keep her hand on my arm as I held Sulpicia, so that I could monitor her progress. Again and again I shouted for her to increase her influence, far past the point where I had planned to go. Caius came in once to see my progress, his face twisted in disgust and pity. Finally my beloved sagged in my arms in defeat, and the worst was over.
I dismissed Charmion, waiting in fearful silence as Sulpicia stirred in my arms, her thoughts blurring as if waking from a great sleep. Had I utterly destroyed her mind?! Had I ruined myself, in the end? But she blinked and looked up at me, and wonder filled her eyes. I smiled hesitantly in return, watching as her mind settled into its new form.
"Are you well, my darling?" I whispered.
"Yes," she breathed. I saw in her mind that she was about to call me Master, but I was quick to prevent it; I did not need to be reminded of what I had just done.
"Just Aro, love," I said gently. She smiled and rested in my arms, watching me in awe as if she had stepped into a new world. Her worship was even more pure than it had been on that first night in the garden. I knew that she would do anything I asked now, and gladly. She would never again question me, never again tire of her confinement, never again look at me in hurt and disappointment. I traced her brow, framing the soft red eyes that waited for me to give them life. I had done it; I had sculpted my beloved like I had sculpted the rest of my destiny. I had gambled, pressing too hard with my tools and fearing to fracture the marble of her mind. And I had fractured it indeed, finally clearing away the rubble to reveal the woman I had thought I wanted in the first place.
I had cleared away too much. I had fractured her beyond repair. I leaned back, surveying my marred creation with sadness. I heard the laughter of the Fates in my ears.
"Anything, Aro," she whispered, leaning closer. "Anything you wish."
I joined with her, mind and body, but it was not like before. I left her then, standing in the doorway and staring after me with longing. She had so little will left of her own that she would not cross the threshold until I asked her to.
I sat alone in the Great Hall that night, staring at the dried blood on the floor and reeling at my loss. But I would not lose heart; I would keep searching until I found other powers with which to rebuild the woman I had destroyed. Until then, I would accept her pathetic worship and continue with my task, taming the world before me until it was a glittering paradise, fit for my beloved to enjoy when she returned to me. And she would; I had no doubt of that. This was the greatest hardship I had ever endured, and that meant that an even greater opportunity was still to come.
And thus the romance of Pygmalion became the tragedy of Midas. I hope you enjoyed this weird little jaunt into Aro's brain! It was a fun ride, though I think I may need to bleach my keyboard after writing it.
I probably won't be able to update again before the New Year, as we're in the process of moving. I wish everyone a joyful Christmas and Happy New Year 2016!