A/N: I apologize greatly for the neglect on this story. I've wanted to update it sooner, but my health has been steadily declining since September. I currently have a couple of procedures coming up soon, so hopefully I'll get to the bottom of this. Unfortunately, between my college classes and my other obligations, I've been a bit bedridden, and I can't really promise any updates in a timely manner. For those of you who have stuck with me this far, thank you so much. This story is still of utmost importance to me, and I promise I will definitely not be abandoning it ever. One way, or another, I will finish it. Zarissis and I have been through too much to not finish it. :')
Zarissis buried her face in the pillows, trying to dismiss the light that threatened to tear through her sleep. She had such a long day, all she wanted was to continue resting…
At first all she felt was the ghost of a touch on her calf, then cold fingers dragging languidly up her leg to the crook of her knee. Before she had time to lift her head and glare at the sudden intruder, the fingers slipped under her nightgown and invaded the pressing heat of her thighs, fingernails digging into her soft flesh.
Her complaint died in her throat, and Zarissis moaned into the pillow pressed against her face. This had to be Lucien's doing; Zarissis could imagine that only the Speaker would have the gall to touch her so freely.
"Lucien," she whispered as the fingers returned, this time ghosting against the revealed flesh of her neck. She felt his breath against her ear, the sensation sending waves of heat to her core. Her fingers buried themselves in the sheets, fabric poking through whitened knuckles.
She tried to open her eyes but instinctively shut them as his mouth delicately came to her neck, lips teasing the flesh between his tongue. It felt so good, but something felt wrong, decidedly unnatural…
It was only then that Zarissis realized the tongue on her neck and the hands now creeping up her sides to linger on her breasts were both very, very cold.
Her eyes flew open and Zarissis rolled herself onto her back, coming face to face with her new uninvited lover. Red eyes stared intently into her own green ones, and the man languidly touched her cheek. Zarissis found she could only stare back in a mixture of disbelief and her own painful arousal.
"Isn't this what you've always wanted, little songbird?" The man above her whispered, his High Rock accent as present as ever, a small smile gracing his fanged mouth. Before Zarissis had a moment to respond, she found herself lurched out of the image, darkness flooding her senses before she awoke to the dim candlelight of the living chambers.
Her body bolted out of bed, partially out of shock and partially out of her own cognition. Instead of landing safely on her feet however, her sheets tangled up in a lumpy mess around her body and she tripped over them, landing ungracefully on the floor with a loud crashing noise, followed by her own shout of surprise.
It was perhaps her luck that the majority of her family was at that precise moment in the Dining Hall, otherwise Zarissis may have burned with embarrassment. It was worse enough that she still felt the aftereffects of her dream without having to explain why exactly she flew out of bed and collapsed on the floor.
However would she face Vicente again? The smallest glance at him and she knew her cheeks would glow with embarrassment, and perhaps she'd feel a bit of arousal…and he'd know, surely, because of the whole enhanced-vampiric powers thing.
To make matters worse, he was her boss, for Sithis's sake! She'd have to face him, sooner or later. Perhaps she could feign illness long enough for her dream to become forgotten, although she highly doubted even that would work. The feel of his fingertips along the insides of her thighs, his breath on her ear! It made her squirm and whimper on the floor in a decidedly humiliating way. She'd never even been with a man, certainly never been touched by a man in such a way, yet it felt so real.
Untangling herself from the floor, Zarissis smoothed out her nightgown and sat on her bed with a sigh. Perhaps illness could work. With any luck, Ocheeva, Tel, and Antoinetta would fuss over her for a few days, and Vicente would be too busy with work to bother seeing her. Hopefully.
She picked her sheet off the floor and shook it out before curling back up in bed. She could pretend to have a stomach ache, perhaps from eating something bad on the way home. Or maybe just a cold, given that she did hop into the freezing cold waters of the Imperial Bay.
Zarissis didn't have to think long, as at that precise moment Antoinetta dashed into the bedroom, her typical excitable smile plastered on her face.
"Oh Zarissis! You're awake, wonderful!" She smacked her hands together and hopped onto her own bed, pillows flying into the air on impact. "How did your first contract go? I hear you cut his throat. Sounds delightfully…bloody! And you got the –"
Antoinetta's voice cut off suddenly, and her mouth formed into a slight frown. "Something wrong, Zaris? You're not looking so well."
"I – I'm just not feeling quite well, nothing to worry about though. Some rest should certainly help me." Zarissis pulled the covers closer around her head, curling into a ball. Lying to her Sister and attempting to hide her own embarrassment was nearly making her feel ill, though.
Antoinetta's frown deepened, lines appearing on her forehead as she furrowed her brow. "I could get Vicente, if you'd like? He's a master at potions, could fix you up instantly. He wanted to see you anyway."
"No! – I mean, no, it's okay. I'll be fine. Tell Vicente I just need rest for a day or so." From under the sheet, Zarissis bit her lip hard, teeth imprinting onto the rosy flesh.
"Oh, well, okay. Hope you feel better then." Still frowning, Antoinetta got up from her bed and gave a quick wave before leaving the Living Quarters, a confused expression still plastered on her face.
Vicente was nose-deep in contracts, sorting through the piles of paper the Black Hand kept shoving on him. Or more accurately, what Lucien kept shoving on him.
There was no doubt that his relationship with the Speaker had been strained, as of lately, but his mind had been occupied for hours since his conversation with Zarissis. What happened between him and Lucien was truly quite a long time ago, even for a mortal, and perhaps it really was time for him to let go of it. Lucien was no longer the cursory, shallow child he had been decades ago. Since then, he'd grown into an ambitious and loyal child of Sithis, and there was no doubt in Vicente's mind that the Dark Brotherhood would be worse off without him. Not to mention that Lucien would stand by all the members of Cheydinhal, even Vicente, with his life.
Vicente feared that he may soon have to.
Talk of a traitor among the Brotherhood was increasing, and with the way things were occurring, Vicente sensed that the evidence was to point to Cheydinhal. Whomever this killer was, they wanted revenge, and someone in Cheydinhal had wronged them in some way. Vicente couldn't think of anyone he or one of the lower-ranked members could have offended, so logically it stood to reason that the culprit was looking to ruin Lucien.
Lucien stepped on many toes to get where he was, but he had always been careful. Somehow, Vicente knew this wouldn't be over anytime soon.
He gazed idly at a contract, while his mind glanced over different ways to formally apologize to his Speaker and former friend. It was long due to repair that relationship.
A loud and intruding knock sounded on his door, and without being invited in, Antoinetta dashed in. Her lack of respect for his privacy made him scowl, but he wisely chose not to mention it.
Vicente gazed up, expecting to see her usual joyous and unwavering gaze, instead replaced by a confused and unhappy frown. Immediately, he felt himself stiffen, dread washing over him silently. Antoinetta did not usually look so down, not unless Lucien rejected her advances, but Vicente knew for a doubt that the Speaker was off on his own business. He chose to prepare for the worst.
"I went to see Zarissis, and – "
The words were hardly out of her mouth before Vicente flew to his feet, hearing only Zarissis's name and pairing it with the expression on Antoinetta's face. If something was wrong, if someone hurt her…the idea was too painful for Vicente to finish. He wasn't sure when he became so attached to her, but he knew he had to see her. He simply had to.
He quickly seized Antoinetta by the arms, eyes flashing dangerously. "Is she okay? Did something happen to her?"
Antoinetta's voice died in her throat at the sound of his near-growl, and she did all she could not to stand and gape. "She – she's okay! Just sick, I swear!"
He roughly released her and stomped to one of the cabinets, nearly tearing the door off its hinges as he searched for a healing potion. Finding what he desired, he clutched the glass bottle in his hand and dashed from the room, leaving Antoinetta far more confused and disgruntled than she'd been in the first place.
"Vampires are crazy," she muttered to herself as he flew down the hall. Had he not been preoccupied, the comment may have made him frown.
His rushed stalk through the Sanctuary would have drawn attention had the majority of his Family not been busy, and had Lucien been there the Speaker would have been on high alert. Vicente was not the type to go on melodramatic walks and brood, especially during the day.
With little care for the privacy or modesty of those within, Vicente entered the women's Living Quarters and was beside Zarissis's bedside in an instant, aided by his inhuman speed.
Unfortunately, there was something somewhat terrifying by being alone one moment and having a vampire by your bed the next. Startled, Zarissis jumped and would have shrieked had Vicente not clamped his hand to her mouth. She quickly gathered the sheets around her and pressed her back to the wall.
Her odd behavior was the first thing he analyzed. She had been fine just the previous night, no scent of illness or disease clinging to her. If she was sick, how had he missed it?
"V – Vicente," she stuttered, her face turning an awful shade of red. Her voice died in her throat and she sat staring at him in an awkward kind of shock. Had he not been possessed with worry, he would have discovered what the problem was almost immediately. Instead, Vicente pressed a hand to her forehead, testing her temperature beneath his palm.
She seemed normal, other than her erratically beating heart. He tried to ignore it, but with the intensity of its pounding, he almost feared she'd have a heart attack. After a moment he placed a hand on the wall behind her and leaned closer, hoping not to pick up the scent of poison clinging to her skin.
And then it hit him, fully, in the face. Beneath her shock, fear, and the tantalizing pound of blood in her veins, there was something primal and desperate that Vicente was far too familiar with. He had smelled it on many others before, but never her.
That could only explain why she had her head turned so painfully away, so as not to look at him, and the deep redness of her cheeks.
Her arousal didn't embarrass him. Instead, the worry he'd felt over her wellbeing melted off of him, replaced by joyous relief. Vicente threw back his head and laughed, pulling the stiff and shy girl into his arms.
"Silly songbird," he murmured between his own bursts of joy. He did not laugh at her, certainly not, but over his own concern when truly she had been so embarrassed to come before him she faked illness. Surely, she had told Antoinetta not to send him; he likely would have heard that had he let her finish speaking.
He cupped her delicate face in his hands and nuzzled her cheeks as a Khajiit would, social boundaries pushed aside. She was well, and alive, very much so alive! Zarissis at some point realized he wasn't mad or upset with her, and he felt her relax in his arms, cheeks finally returning to a normal shade of pink.
As his own laughter receded, he glanced down to see her stare as she gazed at him with wide, chartreuse eyes. "So naïve," he murmured, not unkindly. His words only made her blush again.
When did he become so enamored with such a creature? As his own elation subsided, he became hyperaware of the thin piece of cloth barely covering her and the swell of her breasts pressed up against him. His arms tightened instinctually around her waist, grasping at the soft flesh there.
She must have felt the gentle shift, as an almost inaudible gasp escaped her lips. A mortal wouldn't have heard it, but Vicente's sensitive ears picked up the gentle release of air. He almost growled in a possessive manner, the vampire rising up against the firm human boundaries he placed in his mind. It was so very amusing, he thought, that only a few days ago she walked into his office flushed from kissing the Speaker, but his mere presence and touch made her painfully desperate.
He hummed in delight. "I sense that it was not the thought of Lucien to have you so riled up, now was it, little songbird?"
Zarissis buried her face further into the material of his shirt, as though she could hide from her own physical reaction. Vicente smiled against her hair, very much enjoying this new development between them. To others – to Lucien – he had been rough, aggressive, and at times violent, but Zarissis was a delicate creature, her own innocence standing out starkly against the bloodlust she'd already demonstrated. Bloodlust aside though, taking a life was far different than the passion and intimacy of romance and sex.
Had she been anyone else, someone more experienced and less endearing to him, he would have been tempted to throw her down and take her right there, regardless of who may or may not walk in. However, he was more than certain that Zarissis was as inexperienced as one could be. He would not be inconsiderate and rough with her; he intended to romance and court her as a man would have done the many years ago when he was younger.
He pressed a silent kiss to her forehead and looked down at her, stroking a finger over her cheek. "Why don't you get dressed, and then we can discuss the terms of your next contract?" She merely nodded silently in response.
She unwound her arms from around his waist, his body immediately missing the delicious warmth she provided. He merely ran a hand through her unkempt hair as she pulled away, orange waves sliding between his fingers.
After a moment he turned away, giving her the privacy to change. As he walked back down the hall to his chambers, he whistled a joyful toon, earning him the confused and suspicious glance of Antoinetta as he passed.
Zarissis had never before been able to say that dressing was agonizing, but truly, the slow process of stripping off her night gown and pulling on each piece of her armor could be described as nothing short of torturous. Every rub and scrape of fabric against her skin seemed far more intense than she had ever felt before.
Vicente's appearance did nothing to ease her arousal. At first she'd been terrified, and then his own amusement at her reaction had put her at ease, but being pressed against his body only made her need rage stronger. She had touched and hugged him before, but never had it been like this. Not even Lucien's touch had set her nerves alight like electricity.
Where did her relationship with Vicente stand now? He had been so affectionate, so loving towards her in a manner he had never displayed, and then even teased her about her apparent arousal toward him. He was not disturbed, or even mildly uncomfortable by this new advancement between them; he seemed to welcome it.
At last she did up the last buckle, and walked what seemed like an eternity to Vicente's room. Her stomach growled uncomfortably from lack of food, but she was so anxious she didn't know if she could eat.
He was certainly waiting for her when she knocked and entered, sitting at his table with a neat pile of contracts in front of him.
"Ah, songbird, at last." His smile was nearly contagious. If it hadn't been so filled with warmth, she may have been unnerved by the uninhibited display of his fangs, but even that aspect of his person seemed oddly endearing when paired with the look on his face.
Zarissis smiled back then for the first time today, just before her eyes flit down unconsciously to his throat. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, and Zarissis couldn't help but note that in her mind. Had he always worn them that way?
She sat across from him at the table, and he lifted up a contract as if to read it, although his eyes never left her face.
"Your last contract went quite well, so I have another one for you if you'd like. I suspect it will be a good test of your talents. Tell me, Zarissis, are you familiar with accidents?"
The last sentence was spoken almost breathily, and Zarissis was suddenly aware of how palpable the sexual tension in the room was. She now understood that her own arousal had, at some point, become a mutual experience. The thought nearly made her cheeks burn again, this time from shyness.
"Perhaps, just a bit," she whispered quietly, feeling the tiniest bit self-conscious at this new display of interest. "I am ready for my next contract, though."
"As I expected, excellent. Your target is a Wood Elf named Baenlin," his eyes broke hers to dart down to the contract now, but only briefly before meeting hers again, "You will find him at his home in Bruma. Enter secretly and avoid his manservant, Gromm. On the second floor is a secreted door leading to a crawlspace. Inside are the fastenings of a mounted head that hangs over Baenlin's favorite chair. Loosen the fastenings any night between eight and eleven, and the head will surely fall on Baenlin as he relaxes in his chair, as is custom. If Baenlin is killed in any other manner, or if the manservant Gromm is killed, you will forfeit the bonus. Sound acceptable?"
Zarissis nodded, trying to commit the information to memory. Eight to eleven at night, second floor, crawlspace, avoid bodyguard. "Got it," she nodded, trying desperately to focus on her contract and not the intense red eyes that stared at her intently. At last she tore away and stood, turning to leave, but Vicente stood with her and took her wrist, pulling her back to him.
"You should ask the Family for advice. You may find their suggestions to be invaluable." His face was inches from hers, this time not giving her a chance to conceal her face in his shirt. She simply nodded, not sure exactly how to respond anymore. It seemed as though a heavy fog was falling over her mind, blocking out anything but the immortal man before her.
At last he put a hand against the small of her back and pulled her against him, the other hand taking her chin in his fingers. With an incredible amount of tenderness, Vicente leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.
Zarissis felt her entire body respond to his touch, heat rushing through her. He was gentle and cold, and the graze of his mouth was nothing like the ruthless attack when Lucien kissed her. She was only somewhat aware of her arm wrapping around his shoulders while the other came to his waist. She leaned into the kiss, deepening it, and Vicente responded with his own increased aggression. His hands tightened around her and his lips pried hers open, turning something sweet into something far more passionate.
She was only aware he was pushing her backwards when her back hit the wall and he removed his arm at her waist to hold himself up against the stone. Zarissis's own breath came in gasps, slowly dissolving into needy pants as he kissed down her neck, tongue seeming to focus on one specific spot. She was surprised to feel his breath against her, despite not needing to breath.
At that point she felt his fangs, very sharp, against her skin. They did not pierce, but Zarissis gasped at the feeling. It was not unwelcome; in fact, in her present state the idea of sharing something so intimate with Vicente made her very aroused. One of his hands left the wall, coming to cup her neck on the other side. The pressure increased, and Zarissis wondered briefly why he seemed to hesitate.
After a very long moment he withdrew, and she was surprised to find herself disappointed. "Vicente?" she whispered as he pulled away, a very content but passive look on his face.
"You didn't push me away," he uttered quietly, disbelief slipping into his voice. Of all emotions, shock was not one she'd suspect to see from him. He ran his thumb down her cheek, stopping at the corner of her mouth. "Has a vampire ever bitten you before?"
Now he sounded worried. Zarissis scowled. "What? No! I didn't even know vampires weren't a fable until I met you. Why would you suspect such a thing?"
Relief passed over his features for not the first time that day. "There are not many people who will let a vampire close to their throat. Most who would have experienced it before or lack some form of self-preservation." This seemed to be some kind of private joke to him, as he looked up from her face and chuckled briefly, an unusually dark sound. "I admit, I did get a little carried away."
"You could have, you know. I wouldn't have stopped you." It sounded like somewhat of a foolish thing to say, but she did now feel trust for him. It seemed odd that just the previous day she was pining for Lucien, but now here she stood willing to allow a vampire to bite her. Perhaps she really did lack self-preservation.
Vicente just shook his head. "A vampire bite is no small thing. Perhaps once you prove yourself worthy I will pass on my gift to you. Now you have to contract to do. Go, and may Sithis be with you." He kissed her head and released her.
She nodded and glanced over her shoulder as she left, watching him as he watched her, his offer ringing in her ears.