The Vampire Memoirs

by Mara Mccuniff

  "Are there any other rooms?" I asked the girl when she showed us the one room.

  "Any other? Ummm… I don't think so."

  "Mara… Mara…" Gaar kept calling to me until I turned around and glared at him.

  "Let's not tax their hospitality," he said, then to the girl: "Thank you. This is a fine room."

  "But—I" I started, only she quickly bowed and left the room. "But—!"

  Gaar took my arm gently, which startled me at first.

  "Never mind, Mara," he said. "At least we're getting a free room for the night, let's not try for two."

  "He thinks that we're married," I said. "Did you hear what he said? He said I was your wife!"

  Gaar muttered something almost inaudibly.

  "What did you say?" I asked.

  "Nothing."

  "Wait, I heard you! You said, 'What a horrible fate that would be.' Are you mocking me?"

  "It's late, Mara. Why don't we just go to bed?"

  He said no more, but threw his pack off into a corner and started taking his boots off. I watched him a few moments before dropping my own gear into another corner. Meanwhile, his boots off, Gaar was unbuckling his sword belt. I copied his actions, only much more slowly.

  Gaar threw his bedding onto the floor and started spreading it out. I took my own and did the same. The loom was very small, so I had to put my bedding right next to his. Then Gaar plopped down and pulled his blanket over him.

  "Good night," he mumbled.

  "Oh… good night," I whispered, I left on all my clothes but my boots and sword belt; Gaar had on the same but had taken off his nearly slashed vest. He was bare-chested now, that is. He hadn't done that on any of the other nights. I found myself staring at his back, and a slight chill crept down my back after I caught myself at it.

  I climbed onto my own bedding but sat up. I covered my legs with my blanket and let out a deep sigh. There was a long silence then before I gathered the courage to speak.

  "Gaar?" I whispered.

  "Mmm," he said. He didn't move, however. "What is it?" he then asked.

  It took me a while to speak, but finally I gathered the courage.

  "You hate me now, don't you?" I asked.

  Gaar sighed and rolled over onto his back. He was looking right up at me now.

  "No," he said finally. "I don't hate you. Gods know you've given me good reason to, but I don't hate you."

  "I wouldn't blame you if you did," I continued. "I can be very cruel sometimes. I suppose… I suppose you're right, what you said before."

  "About?"

  "Well, you know, about my having no heart. I mean, I—"

  "Oh, no, no, no," he said, sitting up now. "I'm sorry for those things, I didn't mean them."

  "But—"

  "I'm sorry for what I said, Mara," he continued. "I was angry, and tired, and—maybe a little drunk, too, I don't know. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

  "Forgive you?" I asked, looking him in the face now. "But—it's all true, all of it."

  "You have feelings, Mara," he said. "Everyone does. You just don't show them very well."

  "No, I suppose I don't," I mumbled.

  "Do you want to be that way always?"

  "No," I said after some deliberation, "I don't think so."

  "I didn't think you did," he said quietly, and then put an arm around my shoulder. I looked at him quickly, and then at the hand on my shoulder, but I did not struggle or pull away from him. He started absentmindedly squeezing my shoulder gently, which I found strangely relaxing.

  He whispered something then which I couldn't make out.

  "What?" I said.

  "I said, 'Gods help me.'"

  "Why?"

  He didn't answer right away, but sighed and looked over at me. After a time I met his gaze.

  "I said, gods help me, Mara; I think I'm in love with you."

  I remember mouthing the word "Wh-what?" to him, only not even I could hear it. I found myself unable to look away from him, not even in fear. He returned my gaze some moments longer before slowly pulling me toward him.

  I had almost no strength to stop his kiss. He pressed his warm lips firmly onto mine, which were quivering in fear, and held me with both arms and pulled me even closer. I was stiff all over: my arms, my neck, even my lips were almost rock-hard.

  The kiss must have lasted only a few seconds, but it was an eternity, really. He finally parted from me, and I'm not sure if I had begun breathing again.

  "I love you, Mara," he whispered. "Fool that I am, I've tried to hate you, but I can't. I can't!"

  "Uh," I said, and he pulled me forward again into another kiss. And another. And another. Scores of kisses all over my lips and my face and my neck. My head was spinning and my spine threatened to leap from my back and do flip-flops across the room, but I fought to remain conscious.

  "Relax," he kept whispering over and over in what ended up to be a rather rhythmic chant. Kiss, "relax." Kiss, "relax," until I closed my eyes and let my head fall back as he worked his way to my neck again.

  "Gaar…" I whispered. "I don't—Please…"

  "No words," he said. "Just relax. Follow me."

  His lips glided back to my face again, to caress my chin, and cheeks, and then my lips. I was still trying to voice protests, but he kept pressing his lips to mine over and over until the protests stopped, and I did as he said and followed him.

  And then just as suddenly as he'd begun, he stopped. I let out a great sigh and leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily, eyes shut. Gaar did the same, and we lay there wordlessly, with only our breath breaking the silence. And then, after an eternity, he spoke.

  "Mara…" he whispered.

  "Yes."

  "Stay with me. Stay with me always."

  Before answering I leaned toward him and wrapped my arms around him and let my face rest on his shoulder.

  "I've never been so afraid as just then, Gaar," I said.

  "I'm sorry," he said, "I couldn't take it any longer. I don't know what it is, what kept me going after you."

  "You are a fool to love someone like me," I said. "You need a woman, not a killer."

  "Silence," he said.

  "What am I supposed to be feeling right now, Gaar? Am I feeling the right things?"

  "I don't know. Are you?"

  "I can barely breathe; I can barely think; I don't understand. I know no man was ever supposed to touch me, and now look at me! Look at what I've done!"

  "You're doing just fine, Mara," he whispered. "You're only doing what's in your blood to do."

  "I don't understand…"

  "You will, I promise that. You're going to stay with me now. You'll never run from me again."

  "No…"

  "And I won't leave you, either," he continued. "I'll always be with you."

  "Gaar? What...?"

  "Marry me, Mara. Be my wife."

  Somehow I expected those words, but even that paled next to actually hearing them spoken. I looked up at him, my mouth trying to form words, but it was no use. I was paralyzed, unable to move or speak or do anything.

  "Be my wife," he said again. I still couldn't answer. So he brought his face close to mine and started kissing me again, and that snapped me out of my trance. I pushed him away gently.

  "No, not that again," I said. "Please."

  "Marry me."

  "I don't know if you mean that, or if you're just saying it."

  "I mean it. I would never joke about something like this. I want you to be my wife."

  "Gods, you are serious. But—but why?"

  "Why not?"

  "Why not, why, there are dozens of reasons. Y-you can't want to marry someone like me. I'm not a wife. All I know is killing, Gaar. You told me that yourself."

  "It's not as if you can't learn anything new."

  I said nothing after that, but unwrapped my arms from turn and leaned back against the wall and looked down at my lap. Gaar watched me a moment and then placed a gentle hand on my shou
lder.

  "You don't have to answer me right away," he said quietly.

  "Good," I said. "I mean, I can't answer you right away. Not something like this. Every part of me wants to run from you now, to get away and forget any of this ever happened. But I can't, not now, not… feeling this strange way. You keep saying you're in love with me, but I don't know what I'm feeling right now, or what I'm supposed to feel. Maybe that's why no man was supposed to touch me. It just confuses things."

  "I'm sorry, I've probably only made you miserable."

  "No," I said. "No, not now. I'm not miserable now, but I'm not happy, either. I'm not anything. I just need time to think about this. Will you give me that?"

  "Of course."

  "You won't follow me around, or—?"

  "No. No following. I promise. I'll leave you be for as long as you like."

  "Oh, you don't have to stay away completely," I said. "I mean, I just… don't want you to push."

  "All right, no 'pushing,' then. I promise."

  "Good," I said. "Uhhh—thank you. I mean, thank you."

  He laughed once, then leaned over to kiss me on the forehead.

  "You're welcome," he said.

  Chapter 4

  Gaar was true to his promise to me, for the most part. We were together for two days while I tried to decide whether to accept his marriage proposal. We walked and ate together and shared the same room at a cheap inn, but we didn't talk much during this time. Gaar kept his hands to himself, never even tried to kiss me good night, kept his distance. Meanwhile I was still in a daze.

  Naturally I started watching married people and observing how they acted around each other. I tried to discover if they were any happier than unmarried people, or if they were actually miserable. It was hard to tell by observation alone, and I was too afraid to just walk up to someone and start asking questions. I did try to ask Gaar some subtle questions about what he thought a marriage was supposed to be. But besides the usual cooking, cleaning, and baby-making wife, I learned that he wanted a wife he could talk to, and who would listen to him, who would stand by him and his decisions, but who would never be afraid to tell him when he was genuinely wrong. He didn't like vain or conceited women who asked for jewels and servants and wealth. I knew he was in no danger of that from me. But then, he must have known that, too. My only obstacle seemed to be that he liked women who were feminine, but then every man in that time felt that way, too. Feminine was the last thing I thought I was. After all, I'd fought my entire life to avoid that. But if Gaar's interest in me was that great, then apparently I had failed miserably.

  I made my decision late the second night, after I had spent our entire dinner staring at the table. Eventually I ate the food, but it was horribly cold by that time. We said little to nothing during the meal, but as usual Gaar would look up at me a lot and smile quickly. Sometimes I felt his feet touching mine under the table, and our hands brushed against each other and not just once.

  Finally we left the table and headed back to our room. Gaar unlocked the door and let me enter first. He yawned and stretched after entering and locking the door again.

  "Long day," he said.

  "Yes," I agreed. "Very long."

  He took his gear and tossed it off near his bedding and slapped and rubbed his chest quickly.

  "There isn't much in this town," he said, now reaching down for his boots.

  "No, there isn't," I said. Then: "Gaar?"

  "Mmm hmm," he said, still struggling with his boots.

  "I've decided."

  He stopped and looked up, one of his boots in hand.

  "You have?" he said. "Why, that's—Tell me, Mara! Tell—no, wait," he said, and sat down to put his boot back on. When he finished he stood up again and slapped his hips.

  "Yes, well," he said. "If my heart's to be broken, I want to be fully clothed."

  I laughed once and looked down.

  "You like that," he said. "And that's the first time I've ever seen you smile."

  "Uh… well… I don't smile much, do I?"

  "No. But—your decision. Tell me, Mara."

  "Um… yes. My decision," I said, and started fidgeting. "You know that… well, I've been watching married people and unmarried people. People with children and people without. People who—who touch each other in public and people who… don't seem to like each other."

  "Yes?"

  "It's hard to tell, you know," I said. "I mean, it's hard to tell if people are happy because they're married. A lot of them seemed miserable."

  "People aren't happy just because they're married," he said. "It's best if they're happy, while they're married. You should remember that."

  "Yes. Well," I said, not quite understanding his meaning. "Meanwhile, you say you want a wife who will cook and clean, and all that."

  "Well, it does go with the job," he said, and smiled.

  "I… believe it or not, I do know how to cook and clean, and some other things. I mean, my father still made me do all that, even if he didn't want me to be a girl."

  "So he got two in one, boy and girl. He must have been a splendid father," Gaar said sarcastically.

  I shrugged. "He didn't like me much, actually," I said. "He was always telling me how stupid I was."

  "That's too bad. Because you're not stupid."

  "Well, I know I'm not very smart, either," I said.

  "Your decision, Mara," he said. I looked up at Gaar and fidgeted some more.

  "I still don't understand why you want to marry me," I said.

  "To be honest, I don't understand why myself. But I do. And that's what's important in the end, isn't it?"

  "Um… yes. It must be."

  "Your decision, Mara. No more stalling," he said. "Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?"

  "Yes."

  We both wore our warrior vests for the ceremony, but I also wore a garland of flowers, which Gaar had made for me, in my hair. I had refused to wear them at first, but after I saw how my words stung him and he became sad, I complied. He also wanted to buy me a dress for the wedding, but I wouldn't let him, stating that I had met him as a warrior and I would marry him as a warrior.

  It was a simple ceremony, with no one else present but ourselves and the priest, as we knew virtually no one in the city. It lasted fewer than fifteen minutes, I think, and took place three days after I had accepted Gaar's proposal. The priest invoked the gods of marriage, the hearth, and the family to seal our bond for all time. As part of the ceremony, one finger from Gaar and from myself was pricked, and the priest brought them together, where our blood was to mingle and flow as one. Our bond was complete.

  The priest proclaimed me to be Gaar's forever. Gaar then bent over and swept me off the ground into his arms. I screamed.

  "Gaar, what are you doing?! Put me down!"

  "I want to show you to the world!" he cried. "I want everyone to see my joy this day! I" He began carrying me to the door leading outside, and I panicked.

  "No! Put me down! Gaar, have you gone mad? I beg you, put me down!" He burst through the door with me, still in his arms, and laughed for joy despite the passersby who eyed us curiously. I knew if I struggled too much, I would simply drop to the ground with a thud, so I was forced to be content simply yelling.

  "Put me down now!" I commanded. Laughing still, Gaar lowered me onto my feet and stood facing me.

  "I'm sorry," he said, even though he really wasn't. He smiled and held my head steady with his hands, and leaned forward to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and we embraced for an endless time, or at least I wanted it to last that long.

  I couldn't stay angry with him for long in that moment, not when I, too, was basking in joy. But Gaar had amorous tendencies as well as occasional urges to show off.

  He insisted on holding my hand as we walked through the streets, and he took to greeting nearly everyone we passed. I turned away in embarrassment any time he announced our recent nuptials to friendly strangers, which was often.

 
; We returned to his inn and dined from late afternoon to well past the sunset; he ate heartily, but I became full early on and took to watching him and other inn-dwellers feast. Alcohol never did take well to me, a tendency I also noticed in my father, although he drank often anyway, which usually made him vomit all over the hut later on. Gaar, of course, could take his liquor like any self-respecting man, but he took care that night after I made my extreme dislike of drunkards quite clear to him. He wasn't going to vomit all over the floor in front of me.

  Late in the night many of the inn-dwellers took to singing raucous drinking songs, and Gaar joined them in several. Often he urged me to join in, saying that they needed "the sweet trill of a lady's voice," but my singing voice is similar to that of a cow's in labor, and I wisely declined. Come to think of it, Gaar's voice was nothing to brag about, either.

  Reveling and celebration, for all the fun they may be, can take their toll on one's stamina. While I was hardly exhausted when we returned to our room, my heart beat a little faster at the sight of our bedding. Gaar held me in his arms, gazing at me dreamily, and then he reached out and removed the garland I still wore. The flowers had long ago wilted in the summer sun, and many of the petals had fallen away; it surprised me that I had even kept it on for that long, it was so ugly by now. He dropped the flowers and brushed my hair back behind my ears and cupped them.

  "Have you enjoyed yourself this day, my wife?" he asked.

  I couldn't help smiling at him. "Yes," I answered, "but it's been such a long day."

  "Aye, it has," he agreed. "But the best is yet to come." I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but it pleased me to hear it. Gaar poked my cheeks playfully.

  "It's good to see your dimples in a smile again and not a grimace," he teased.

  I pushed his finger aside and looked away in embarrassment. "You mock me," I said.

  "Oh, stop saying that," he said. "I only tease you. You have a beautiful smile, you know."

  "I do?"