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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #888129
Vampire, shapeshifting mage, ancient law and a way around it.
         Vallen was bored. The hunt had become nothing more than a joke, a faint glimmer of the glory it was Before. He was tired of the mincing, the bowing, and the cowering. The scent of fear was nauseating. He longed for blood spiced with anything other than terrified resignation. He would willingly pay everything in his treasury for even a drop of blood flavored by delight.
         You see, by the time Vallen became Prince, the vampires were king of all on Errantar. While they preferred the blood of the human slaves, none were exempt from their bite. Every creature was wary of the shadows and it was not odd to see even an elf with a clove of garlic as a pendant.
         Suddenly, Vallen chuckled darkly. It still amused him at the way time had changed vampires. Sunlight was no more a danger to them than to anything else. Garlic was now a bitter annoyance rather than a poison. A stake through the heart still meant death, but then it produced that effect in any creature. Vampires now savored the advantages of mortality without tasting its sting.
         With a growl of frustration, Vallen sprang out of his throne and began to pace. He felt like a caged animal. If that damned slave didn't stop cringing in the corner, she was going to find herself turned into a cringing mass of flame! That thought in mind, Vallen stormed out of the throne room, through the glass doors, and out into the sunlit garden.


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         Dawnfyr had just found the garden. It had been hidden behind a massive stone wall, nearly impossible to scale. Impossible, that is, unless you happened to be a faery, or could shift into one. It was the most beautiful garden she had seen in years. The reign of the vampires had a changed a lot of things. It seemed like an eternity since anyone had the inclination to have a garden.
         :It figures the only one around is on the castle grounds.:
         Shrinking down to the size of a large bumblebee, Dawnfyr flitted merrily from bush to bush, and flower to flower. Tails of fire trailed from her wings, the only indication her form gave of her elemental affinity. She had just landed on a large rose when a tall handsome man stormed through a set of glass doors across the garden. Stormed was the only way to describe how he came through those doors. Dawnfyr had seen thunderclouds with less power and suppressed fury.
         Fascinated, she watched as the vampire, he was too well dressed to be anything else, slowed and tenderly touched a flower petal. He smiled slightly and then sat down on a bench in a nook of bushes. When the vampire began to roll a small ball of fire across the back of his hand Dawnfyr really started to pay attention. She knew that sun no longer affected vampires, but she didn’t know that they could use fire magic. She knew she had to get a better look. Slowly she moved closer, using the flowers and leaves as cover. Closer and closer she flew, until curiosity had brought her less than a foot away from the handsome man.


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         Vallen noticed a presence almost immediately. It wasn’t very big, but the scents of magic and fire were strong. Intrigued, he sat on a stone bench nearby. For someone or something to make it inside the castle walls undetected meant either negligence on the part of the guards, not likely, or great cunning on the intruder’s part. He was bored enough to take the time to entice the being closer. Bored enough to wait.
         Assuming a look of mesmerized concentration, he began to roll a fireball over his knuckles. When he sensed the creature’s attention on him, he began to weave the ball over, around and through the fingers of his left hand. The fire seemed to draw a tiny orb of light and flame like a moth to a candle. Soon, it alighted on a branch with in easy reach of his idle right hand. He cautiously glanced over and was amazed to see that the creature was actually a pixie. With legendary speed, his hand shot out and gently snagged her out of the bush. Slowly, Vallen opened his hand. He wanted to get a better look at the clever creature that had stolen into his garden. He didn’t even worry that she would fly away; his reflexes were far faster than hers.
         Seated on his palm, looking slightly stunned at her change of location, was a beautiful woman in miniature. The woman quickly regained her composure and gracefully stood up. She then placed her hands on her hips and glared up at him. Vallen had expected nearly any reaction but this. He thought it was amusing that somehow, even though this pixie had broken into his garden, she seemed to take insult at his actions.


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         Stunned by his swiftness, Dawnfyr didn’t have time to react. She suddenly found herself off the bush and caught in the vampire’s hand. The abruptness in the change of venue caused her to lose her footing. She sat down hard on his palm. The long elegant fingers began to open slowly. She didn’t even bother to try and escape. By her thinking, as fast as he had plucked her from the bush, he could have her trapped again before she had flown an inch.
         When his hand was open, forming a slight cradle, she looked up. She was slightly stunned at the remarkable face looking down at her. The vampire had light blonde hair and dark liquid-brown eyes on either side of a long aristocratic nose. His lips, pulled into a slight smile, were wide and full. Not wanting to give him any satisfaction, she stood up and glared.
         :Really.: she thought. :If he wanted to see me, he should have asked!:
         “Well, hello there, little pixie,” he said with a smile.


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         "Pixie!? I am not a pixie, I am a mage!" Dawnfyr exclaimed with a laugh. Her face darkened suddenly. "How dare you touch me without my permission!"
         Vallen jerked back in surprise. For such a small thing, she looked rather formidable. Her bright green eyes flashed, her head defiantly tossed a mane of rich copper curls over her shoulder, and her wings shot sparks into the air. He could tell he had gravely insulted her.
         "A thousand pardons, m'lady mage,” he replied, a surprised smile flitted across his lips. "I meant no insult. I merely wished to know who had intruded on my garden."
         Vallen could not tell what shocked him more, the spirit she showed or the strength of his relief in it. He even permitted himself to hope it would last. His boredom was completely forgotten.
         "Yes, well, I suppose I am the trespasser here," Dawnfyr stated, mollified and contrite. "I am sorry. It is such a lovely place, and was too big a temptation to pass up.
         "In a way, it is your fault though. If you vampires would leave people alone once in awhile, they would have the energy to plant gardens of their own. Then you wouldn't have to worry about intruders."
         Slightly taken aback, Vallen didn't say anything for a moment. She was scolding him. He could crush her without a thought and she was scolding him. This tiny mage intrigued him as nothing had in a long time. He couldn't let her leave, but had a feeling that to do that he would have to make her want to stay. Finally, the words came to him.
         "You are right," he said, setting her gently on the stone bench beside him. "A garden this beautiful should be shared. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. No harm will come to you."
         Dawnfyr could not believe her ears. This vampire was agreeing with her. Not only was he agreeing with her, he was inviting her to stay. She could stay and take in everything in safety. There had to be a catch.
         "There is only one condition to this invitation," Vallen continued.
         :Ah, ha!: she thought. :I knew it:
         "All I ask, is that you return to your human form and allow me the pleasure of your company at dinner."
         Dawnfyr did not bother to hide the grin that went from ear to ear. She would be able to take in this marvelous garden and all she had to do was revert to her natural form. Of course, she would also have to accompany him to dinner. The very thought of dining with a vampire peaked her curiosity. One day, it really was going to be the death of her.
         "Alright," she agreed. "If you allow me to stay in the garden as long as I like, I will shift back to human. It would be my pleasure to be your dinner companion."
         Slowly, she began to grow. The wings on her back shimmered and disappeared. When she had reached full height, Dawnfyr turned and looked at him. A smile light her face.
         Vallen's breath caught in his chest. The mage was even more beautiful now that he could see every detail. Her eyes were greener than the leaves around them. Her hair fell in thick, full, copper curls down to her waist. When she spoke it sounded like bells chiming.
         "My name is Dawnfyr. What is yours?"
         "Vallen,” he replied, returning her smile.
         Thus it all began. It was strange, but it was a beginning. From that point on, their lives would never be the same. The love to come would defy even the most ancient of laws.


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         Vallen was at his desk going over some neglected work. He was studying a contract between two houses. It required his approval and he could not shake the feeling that he was missing something vital, something dangerous. Without warning every unlit candle in the room flared to life. He glanced up. Standing in the door, wearing little more than a sheer robe, was Dawnfyr. He drank in the sight of her for a moment, then extended his hand. She smiled and walked gracefully into the room.
         “Really, Vallen, however can you see with all the curtains drawn and only one candle lit?” she teased. “One would think you were an ancient.”
         Before Vallen could reply, she turned serious. Walking over to his desk, Dawnfyr began to speak in a rush.
         "I am tired of being ashamed of our love. I want to be at your side, to be a part of this life,” her hand gestured vaguely at the room around them. “I know what I am asking. I do not want to be just an onlooker. I want to truly understand your world and be your wife!”
He wondered when he would get used to being surprised by his consort. Secretly, he hoped he never would.

         While he knew she had a very good idea what was being asked, he did not think she really understood. For one thing, a vampire’s nature went against everything she was. He loved her and did not want to be responsible for snuffing out her flame. And for another thing, a vampire marrying a vampele, a turned vampire, while not forbidden was frowned on. He didn't have the heart to tell her that.
         “Dawnfyr, love, for that to happen I would have to turn you. In essence, you are asking me to kill you, to forcibly change your very nature,” he pulled her around the desk to his side. “Please, don’t ask it of me. I have been able to restrain myself this long. I do not want to jeopardize what we have.”
         Dawnfyr couldn’t believe what she was hearing. An ancient law, somehow passed down through the ages, forbade a vampire and a human from marrying. It had something to do with humans being alive and vampires not. The only way they could be man and wife was for one of them to become like the other. Since he could not become a human, she had to become a vampire.
         Throughout the three years she had been with this man she had seen countless numbers changed against their will. Changed to become little better than slaves. Now, she comes to him, the man she loves, willing to make that change in order to be part of his world and he refused.
         “Why restrain yourself?” she snapped, then a touch of desperation colored her voice. “You say you love me, yet you act as if you do not want me in your life. I will not have it. Either take me completely, or lose me forever.”
         That said, she reached across the back of her head and pulled all her copper curls over one shoulder. The neck she bared was ivory white. Leaning down close to him, she cocked her head to one side. The blatant invitation nearly undid all Vallen’s restraint.

         “No, not here,” came the hoarse reply and then, before she could protest, he grabbed her hand. “Not like this. For you, never like this.”
         Pulling her close to his side, Vallen, Prince of Vampires, led his consort towards their rooms. If she wanted to be turned, it would be out of love and mutual agreement. He would not have her resent him later on, for she would have an eternity to exact whatever revenge her clever mind could come up with. That, he would be unable to stand.
         Bewildered, Dawnfyr went along docilely. She was not sure if she had won or if Vallen was stalling. They had talked about this several times before, but it always ended the same. She backed down, not really being sure what would happen. Well, she feared losing him more than she feared dying.
         Upon reaching their set of rooms, Vallen let go of Dawnfyr long enough to open the glass doors that led to the balcony. Sunlight streamed through the opening, spilling across the lush carpet. Taking Dawnfyr by the hand, he led her out onto the balcony.
         "If life as a vampele is what you wish, I cannot withhold it,” he said, turning to look into her eyes. “All I ask is that you fully understand what it means.
         He went on to explain that life as a vampele was different than that of a vampire. While a vampele was gifted with strengths of his or her sire, there was no guarantee of which or how many. He wanted her to understand that she may not be able to see daylight, because immunity wouldn’t necessarily be passed on. He also explained that she would have a stronger thirst than a vampire. That would be due largely to the fact that she would be trying to refill her body with blood that could never be replaced.

         “Darling, I understand all that,” Dawnfyr replied softly. “I am willing and ready to take that chance. If I don’t, we can never marry. The law is very clear on that. I refuse to lose you to a political marriage.
         “If you are worried, change me here, in the light. We will know soon enough if I will be immune. I will not have my last memory of the sun be its setting.”
         Vallen knew he couldn’t refuse her. He had not been able to refuse her anything since the day they first met. Without saying a word, he pulled her to him. He gently lifted her off the ground and kissed her. Going back inside, he made a bed on the floor in the pool of sunlight. Gently running his hands over her shoulders, he slipped the robe off and let it pool on the floor at their feet. Their lips met in a kiss that grew more passionate with every passing moment. As one they sank down on the makeshift bed.
         Still unsure, and not really caring, if she had won Dawnfyr allowed her hands to explore his body. Unwilling to break the kiss, she hooked her arm around his neck and laid back, pulling him down with her.

         Soon, their bodies were entwined. Hands roamed and lips explored. Each caress brought them closer to what was now inevitable. Vallen kissed Dawnfyr's forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and then her mouth. Arching against him, she gasped, "Now, do it now!"
         Gently, he kissed her ivory neck. She moaned in response. As if the moan had triggered something deep inside him, he sank his fangs into the soft flesh. The taste of her was intoxicating. Never had Vallen tasted such richness. Dawnfyr's desire for him, for the new life he offered, threatened to overwhelm him. Along with the rush of passion, he could feel her life ebbing. Pulling away before he could take those last vital drops, he looked down at the woman that had changed everything for him. Her eyes fluttered open, and he was almost stunned at the strength they still held. She managed a small smile.
         "Is it time?" she whispered.
         He could only nod. Quickly, he opened a vein in his wrist. Gently lifting her head, and supporting her from behind, he brought the wrist to her lips.
         "Drink, beloved. Drink and be strong."
         As she drank, he began a ritual that had not been spoken in a thousand years. It was the marriage rites binding one vampire to another for all eternity. None had ever dared use it with a vampele, much less an 'infant'. The consequences were unknown, and thus it was forbidden.
         "As your blood is mine, so my blood is yours," Vallen intoned. "When you thirst I shall feed you, and the same also you shall do for me. Our hearts shall beat together, our fates tied. Were our hearts are bound by love, our lives are now bound in blood. Eternity is ours."

         The ritual involved the near complete exchange of blood, so Vallen let Dawnfyr drink more from him than any 'infant' had. When she had drank close to half his blood, anymore would be dangerous, he started to pull away. Her hold tightened convulsively.
         The hot liquid poured down Dawnfyr's throat. It began to fill her, replacing the blood Vallen had taken. The ecstasy of it coursing through her veins was incredible. Vaguely, she heard Vallen saying something and her heart repeated them, holding the words close. She wanted to say them, but her body needed more sustenance, more strength. To soon the source of nourishment began to withdraw. Dawnfyr gripped it tighter, drinking deeper.
         "Dawnfyr, my love," Vallen said, smiling at her strength. "You must let go. My blood is too rich and your body is not used to it. Any more could cause great harm. Harm that no amount of healing could fix."
         He was relieved when she reluctantly let go. His wrist healed almost instantly. Dawnfyr's tongue flicked out of her mouth and caught the blood that had spilled onto her chin. She smiled, and then repeated the words of the ritual.
         "Where our hearts are bound by love, our lives are now bound in blood. Eternity is ours."
         As if an omen of things to come, a cloud drifted over the sun, blotting out its light. The repercussions of Dawnfyr and Vallen's choice would reach farther than they could ever know.
© Copyright 2004 Faery ~needs longer days (aklafaery at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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