by GR Griffin
"What is it, Gideon?" Even with the heavy smell of blood clinging to the older looking man, Brahms had been able to pick up on Gideon's scent. There was a rustle of clothing behind him, the vampire with the salt and pepper colored hair doing the slightest of bows.
"We've finished assessing the damages." Gideon told him. "The castle has weathered worse from the elements than the attacks of today. We will not have to spend much time on repairs, thankfully."
"And the death tally?" Brahms grumbled. "How many of our people did we lose today?" Even one death would be intolerable, but Brahms was no fool. A battle like the one that had been fought on this island, was bound to have casualties on both sides.
"We're still actively searching for several notable figures." Gideon said, tone apologetic. "But as it stands, of the thirty-five that were slain, they were mostly fledglings, still too new to their powers."
"Mostly?" inquired Brahms with a sharp emphasis on the word.
"Ah..." Now his tone was bland. "It appears at least one of your detractors was killed during the fighting. An elder by the name of Rodoliant."
Brahms remember Rodoliant well, the man having been part of the group who sought to take the crown. Rodoliant himself had had no true aspirations to lead, the man several centuries too young to successfully rule over the vampire kingdom. But he had been pushing for another, helping to groom that vampire into a king Brahms' enemies could all get under. Unfortunately, the name of that upstart wanna be, had never been discovered. Not even by Gideon, who worked tirelessly to protect Brahms' crown.
"There are two others missing." Gideon continued when it became apparent Brahms was not going to speak. "No sign of their corpses."
"Do you think they ran?" Brahms asked, fighting not to gnash his teeth in anger.
"It seems that way..."
"Cowards." Brahms spit out. There could be no excuse for abandoning their home. When it came to the elders and the power they wielded, even the absence of one could have changed the fate of the vampires. Brahms thought of the thirty-five said to have been killed, and felt that the numbers might have been less if the two elders hadn't run away.
"If they dare return..." Brahms began, but it was Gideon who finished the thought.
"They will be charged with treason, and summarily executed for their crime."
"Spread the word." Brahms ordered. "Our people must be made aware that such an act will not be tolerated. Especially by elders who should know better."
"Of course." But Gideon didn't immediately leave, instead lingering by Brahms side. It didn't take much skill or instinct to know the salt and pepper haired vampire had more on his mind, concerns he felt Brahms had to hear, regardless of his king's desire to seethe alone.
"What?" It was more anger than Brahms wanted to voice, but fortunately Gideon knew him well enough to not take offense at that growl.
"The..." An actual hesitation from Gideon, as though the man did not know what word to use. "Your bride's sister, and her man...."
"What about them?" Neither man tried to lower their voice, knowing there was little they could do if the vampires below them chose to eavesdrop. There was both benefit and hindrance in the sharp hearing of a vampire, making it difficult at times to maintain one's privacy on the island. There was of course rooms that could be enchanted to subdue the travel of sound, but such spells were costly, the mages prone to respond to the highest bidder. Brahms felt certain that if anything Gideon had to say was requiring true discretion, the vampire would have waited until they were elsewhere to bring it up.
"They're still on the island."
Now that got Brahms to actually turn and look at Gideon. "What?!" It was a heated roar.
Gideon raised a hand in an effort to appease him. "You left the sister in no condition to travel. Certainly until her wounds heal, the pair will be at the mercy of the island." Gideon did not smile or smirk, simply stating plain fact. "It is unfortunate, but it takes more than one pair of hands to man even the smallest of vessels off this island."
"And the damn fools will most likely not tolerate any offer to assist them!" Brahms grumbled. He and Gideon both knew that the Valkyriie Hrist would go on the offensive the instant a vampire drew near to her. Hrist would mostly likely rather die than allow a vampire to lay hands on her, or to allow a vampire to teleport her off the island.
Gideon said nothing, expression patient as he waited for Brahms' assessment. "My orders still stand." Brahms told him. "Hrist and her lover, are to be left alone. We will of course monitor them from a distance, but so long as they continue to travel AWAY from the castle, we will not do them any harm." There was no need to ask what their fate would be, should the Valkyrie and her einherjar be foolish enough to return to the castle.
It would take much restraint on his vampire's part, the men and women having to hold back their natural impulse to go after the Valkyrie and the sweet blood contained in her veins. Especially one as hurt as Hrist had been at the end of her encounter with Brahms. Truthfully Brahms wasn't sure his people could resist such temptation, and he could only hope Hrist healed quick enough from her injuries so as to make her escape from the island.
Such was Gideon's loyalty, he did not complain about Brahms decision. He might not have approved, but never did he raise an objection. But Gideon knew as well as Brahms did that the order to leave Hrist alone would not prove popular. It was just one more thing that Brahms would have to explain and justify, and he feared his promise to Silmeria would not be a good enough reason to many of the vampires.
He had a lot to explain, and not just to the vampires. If, WHEN he corrected hastily, Silmeria woke, she would surely have questions for him. He wasn't sure how much of his memories she would choose to believe, but even if Silmeria tried to deny what the blood had showed her, there would still be a discussion. Brahms was prepared to shoot down all her arguments, all her insistences that what she had learned was lies. It wasn't a confrontation he was entirely looking forward to, Brahms not only despairing should Silmeria not accept his memories as truth, but embarrassed by some of what she may have seen.
But he refused to dwell on the memories now, refused to so much as think of the Goddess he had so wronged in his infancy as a vampire. For good or for bad, Hel was a part of his past, and as embarrassing as his behavior towards his former fiancee was, it had also helped shape him. Made him into someone different from who Brahms had been as a God. Most days he felt sure the vampire Brahms was an infinitely better being than whoever he had been as a God. But Silmeria had a way of making him doubt, of making Brahms almost ashamed of what he was. And that had been before Silmeria had even a glimmer of the truth behind his origins!
For all his long existence, Brahms had never had to truly answer for the things he had done in his past. Even Hel with her hatred, hadn't been able to do anything about what he had done, not so long as she remain bound to him as his blood slave. And though something, Odin most likely, had freed her of their link, Hel for all her anger and blustering, had never been able to successfully exact revenge on Brahms. Silmeria however, held the potential to be different. Her disappointment in him would be crushing, her disdain devastating. With just a few choice words, Silmeria could destroy him.
It was no wonder he was lingering outside the castle now. Silmeria wasn't even awake yet, and already Brahms was all but quaking in his boots. He feared rejection, feared Silmeria would turn her back so completely on him now that she knew the truth. Before, when she was ignorant of his past, Brahms had been able to reassure himself. To tell himself Silmeria felt the way she did because she knew nothing but the lies Odin had told about Brahms and the vampires. What if she looked at his past, accepted it as the truth, and still hated him? Something would surely shatter, Silmeria vanquishing his one chance at true happiness. When that happened, what would be left to him, save his vengeance against Odin?
Thoughts of Odin always raised his hackles, Brahms scowling in response. He wondered if he would ever get his chance to reveng
e himself upon Odin, to right the wrongs that God had done. The war between them had been never ending, and the only time a victor every seemed set to emerge, was when Odin had Brahms on the run. Brahms could only take comfort in the fact it had been a small eternity since he had been on the losing side of his fight with Odin. But coming out even was a long way from winning, and Brahms had allowed his need to avenge himself, his father, even Hel fester for far too many years.
Brahms needed a resolution, not just for himself, but for the race he had created. He wanted, needed them to belong, to finally be allowed to live. It wasn't right that Odin punished the vampires simply because they were born of Brahms' blood. It was one of Brahms greatest wishes, to see his vampires thriving, accepted or at least tolerated by the other races of the realms. That once would have been enough to sustain him, but that was before he had encountered Silmeria.
He couldn't help that his thoughts kept coming back to the former Valkyrie. She who held so much power in her delicate hands. Power to make Brahms complete, to make him happy in a way no other being, man or woman, had ever been able. He had a feeling eternity would be worth living if Silmeria would only open her heart and accept him. He didn't know if he deserved that chance though, not after his mistakes with Hel. But Brahms was determined to grasp onto any sliver of chance Silmeria would give him, even as his relationship with the former Goddess put his crown in jeopardy.
Now that the fighting on the island was over with, Brahms had nothing to do but think. The way that his thoughts kept coming back to Silmeria, to what he hoped for, and even what he feared from her, let him know he wasn't going to accomplish much. Not tonight, and maybe not even tomorrow night, so long as he was left waiting for Silmeria to awaken. They needed to have that discussion, whatever direction it took, for Brahms to even hope of functioning beyond that of a mindless killing machine.
His claws were back to flexing, Brahms wanting to sink them in to someone. To tear out chunks of flesh from an opponent. It was fortunate his senses were so attuned, that his nose picked up Vandimeer's scent long before the vampire reached him. It was perhaps the only thing that kept Brahms from lashing out, from doling out pain to a man he considered one of his closest allies.
Like Gideon, Vandimeer made a show of making as much noise as possible as he walked. Neither vampire had wanted the misfortune of sneaking up on their king, especially given his agitated state. That would have been the quickest way for a vampire to end up gutted by Brahms' claws.
Vandimeer was in mid bow, when Brahms turned to glare at him. The vampire hardly reacted to that look, or to the demanding growl Brahms let out. "Why are you not with Silmeria?" Vandimeer opened his mouth to answer, but Brahms was continuing, his tone menacing. "You know there are few I trust to watch over my bride." And even less that held enough power to deal with the threat of a Valkyrie like Hrist.
"Forgive me." Vandimeer said, straightening slowly from his bow. "But I thought you would like to know. Silmeria has awakened. She is up and about....."
"Awake?" breathed out Brahms, his eyes raising to the sky. It was still crowded with the storm clouds the vampire mages had summoned, blotting out the sun that had to have set by now. Brahms didn't wonder how he could have let night falling pass without his notice, the vampire well aware of how distracted his thoughts had had him. "How...how is she?"
"She seems agitated." Vandimeer told him. "More so than usual."
"I must go to her." As nervous as he was, it was not a tough decision to make. He NEEDED to see her, to look at her. To breathe in her scent, to even hold her if she would allow it.
Vandimeer was nodding, but as Brahms prepared to teleport, he reached out. His hand didn't quite touch Brahms' arm, fingers hovering over the blood stained gauntlet. "A word of advice...."
"Yes?" Brahms asked, though he was distracted, the energy gathering within him for the teleportation he was about to attempt.
"I would not go to her immediately." A gesture at Brahms' bloody state. "Not looking like this. Lady Silmeria will not appreciate you arriving covered in the blood of people who were part of her former life..."
The energy had been about to shift him into the castle, into the very room Silmeria paced. Now it seemed to explode inside him, Brahms wincing in response. But at least he hadn't teleported, realizing the merit of what Vandimeer suggested. "You're right." He said, and grimaced down at his torn clothing, and at the blood and gore that clung to his bare skin. "A quick bath is in order..."
"I will return to my post." Vanidmeer looked as though he was fighting a smile. "No one will disturb the lady so long as I stand guard."
Brahms nodded to him, knowing Silmeria was as safe as she could be, given it wasn't he himself who watched over her. It was with this confidence that he gathered the energy needed to teleport, Vandimeer being whisked away by his own energies, presumedly to return to Silmeria's side. Brahms himself would teleport inside the castle, to the chamber he had taken over as his temporary quarters. It was a large room, neat with barely a sign of having been occupied in recent days. Brahms barely gave notice to the room, save to do a probing with his senses to make sure he truly was alone. Once satisfied, he hurried into the bathing chamber, his clothing being stripped off as he ran.
Brahms was impatient as he bathed, the red colored water sloshing over the sides of the tub. Impatient though he was, he did not hurry. At least, he didn't rush the bath as quick as he could have, the vampire taking time to clean his claws so that not a trace of blood and grime remained. The scent of the carnage he had participated in, wouldn't wash away completely. Silmeria would be able to smell that he had killed this day, a vampire's sense of smell was simply too strong to hide away what Brahms had done.
Brahms wasn't ashamed of the deaths. Not when he had killed in order to protect not only Silmeria, but his vampires and their home. He wouldn't try to flaunt what he had done, but neither would he hide it. The Valkyrie and their einherjar, were the enemies of all vampires. That would remain a hard truth for as long as Odin continued to rule over Creation, maintaining his lies and vendetta.
A vendetta that even now targeted Silmeria. Odin feared her, feared the truth Silmeria would learn. Brahms wondered what power Odin thought it would give Silmeria, even as he knew there was another reason for the God to target his former Valkyrie. Silmeria held the potential to make Brahms happy, and petty as it was, Odin would never be able to tolerate the idea of his hated brother achieving true bliss. Odin would do his best to take Silmeria from Brahms, to destroy her and end whatever threat she might have been to Odin's own rule over the realms.
Whatever Silmeria decided, whatever she deemed truth from the memories his blood had shared with her, she was still a vampire. She would have to fight for the right to live in a world ruled by Odin. Regardless of what she believed, so long as Silmeria wanted to live, the divine assassins would come for her. Brahms had regrettably damned her in that way, her life forever in jeopardy.
He grimaced as he thought that unfortunate fact, Brahms raising a bucket of warm water to pour over his head. The water rinsed out his hair, and sluiced down his back. Brahms wouldn't even wait for his hair to dry, letting that impressive mane hang down straight rather than in it's usual spiked fashion. Just as he gave little regard to his hair, Brahms also didn't bother to fuss over his clothes. He'd put on the first clean outfit that he found, barely finishing lacing his boots before teleporting outside Silmeria's room.
Vandimeer was standing guard just before the open door. He smiled in greeting at his King, but Brahms barely noticed. His eyes were seeking out Silmeria, the vampiress having turned. She had sensed his arrival, perhaps even sensed the energy he had used to teleport to her. He got only a brief glimpse of her face, eyes that were now red, and looking far more startled than he had expected.
She didn't speak, and at her turning away from him, Brahms heart sunk just a little. He couldn't know for certain what was going on in her mind, but he felt it a rejection. And yet he wouldn't run, inhali
ng a deep breath as he tried to gather his courage to confront her.
"Leave us." Brahms ordered. Vandimeer was hardly surprised, taking only seconds to teleport away. Brahms would step into the room, allowing the newly repaired door to fall close behind him. Silmeria gave no reaction to that sound, drifting instead to the window. Her hand hovered over the sill, the vampiress not quite touching it. The enchantment on the window wouldn't have tolerated her touch, would have zapped her for sure.
Brahms wanted to walk over to her, to take her by the arms and force her to look at him. Instead he paced over to the chairs by the bed, though he didn't sit down. In the moment he was all riled energy, too tense to relax. He didn't even know what to say to her, where to begin. The examination of his past would hurt, and already he felt Silmeria stabbing her claws into him though she hadn't said a word.
The bed was not made, the sheets rumpled and tossed aside. It was no slow awakening Silmeria had done, but a frantic lurch free of the bed. Brahms wondered if his past, his memories had been that distasteful, that distressing to send her fleeing from them. He almost asked her then, his lips actually parting, the question half voiced when Silmeria spoke.
"They didn't leave the island, did they?"
There was no need to ask who the they was that she referred to. Brahms would slowly nod his head, a grimace on his lips. "They refused my generosity." To his surprise, Silmeria didn't bristle at his choice of words. Instead her shoulders slumped downwards, Silmeria looking the picture of grief.
"I knew there was a chance they wouldn't..." She all but whispered. "But still. I had to try..." She didn't ask if there was any survivors, for Silmeria knew better than that. Vampires rarely if ever took prisoners of war, preferring to feed off the blood of their enemies. It wasn't that different from the Valkyrie, the Asgardians killing all vampires and undead, rather than risk them getting free.
"Your efforts were not all in vain." Brahms tried to reassure her. "Your sister, Hrist and that man she traveled with. They alone still live." Silmeria seemed to sag with relief at those words.
