by P. Mattern
…But it turned out the way it was supposed to. And see? You are happy. I can tell you are. You are always smiling!”
As I relaxed back against my cushions, waiting for my morning goblet of still warm fresh blood, toast with lingonberry jam, and kippers, I saw something move in my peripheral vision outside the huge floor to ceiling windows on the left side of my chambers.
I turned my head toward the windows and froze.
It was a giant eye.
The screams came out of me involuntarily, and in mere seconds the door of my chambers was kicked open and the Prince burst in, along with several of his Royal Guard.
“You’re not safe!’ he told me, scooping me upward into his arms, ”Ice Giants are surrounding the Silo on three sides,” he told me as he hurried away, ”The fourth side is press up too closely to the glacier leading to Mount Zephyr for them to access it. We will be fighting them off this morning!”
I saw that he was taking me to his chambers, and to my vast relief Theda was waiting there.
“Take her down the back staircase leading to the citadel and wait for me there,” the Prince told her. Today he was dressed in black and red, his mask reminded me of a gargoyle. I had learned that black and red were warfare colors for the Arctic Cliff dwelling vampires, so I knew he would be fighting.
As if he had read my thoughts he suddenly pulled me back toward him and kissed me, his mouth covering my own with a searching desperation.
“I will return to you Tristina my love,” he told me as he turned and walked away.
“Come quickly,” Theda told me, taking my hand in her larger one. Next to her I always felt safe.
She pulled me into the Prince’s large wardrobe, through the door that was hanging open, and then pushed on the back wall of it.
At first nothing would give, but then it opened with a heavy sounding metallic squeal. We were on the circular landing of a part of the silo I had never seen before, though I had explored much of it during my time there.
It seemed that we were crossing over to a separate but parallel structure, solidly constructed of the same fieldstone that had been used in the interior of the silo. We were standing at the top of a tight circular staircase and with a tug on my arm from Theda we began to descent to what turned out to be a lower floor.
And to my vast relief, as I struggled with my own feelings of shock and apprehension, there was Oliver, standing in the passageway in front of us.
He was immediately at my side and without thinking I threw both arms around him. For a few delicious seconds I felt his body pressed against mine and relaxed, as if he was able to absorb all my fears.
At last he held me away from him, looking down into my eyes.
“You saw your first ice Giant,” he said, a slight smile playing around the edges of his lips, “What did you think? Impressive just by their sheer size, yes?”
I shivered involuntarily, realizing that I was still in my dressing gown and had forgotten even a cape.
“Here,” he said, taking off his green hooded cape and tying it at my throat, ”You’re shivering. I know you must have left in a hurry.
Once I found my voice I couldn’t stop talking his ear off.
“How the HELL will they be able to kill those monsters Oliver?” I wondered aloud,” I mean just the sheer size! What do they use?”
“Flaming arrows along with semi automatics take out just about anything Princess,” he answered in all seriousness, Any moment now you will hear one of them fall I think. Some of the heavy artillery if trained on an Ice Giant’s midsection will literally cut it in two halves!”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth I heard a booming sound and felt the strong vibrations from the aftershocks travelling upward from my slippers to the top of my head. Even the stout stone walls around me shivered for a few seconds.
“There goes one of them!” Theda said smiling, ”No worries my Princess! Ours is the superior firepower!”
Something about being in the impromptu company of two of my favorite people began to relax me.
“Well—where are we supposed to go?” I asked. I turned to Theda with a mock perturbed expression, ”And WHY am I the last to know about the citadel anyway? It seems both of you are very familiar with it and somehow never happened to mention it to your Princess! Why exactly WAS that hmmmmm?”
“To tell you the truth it was on the Prince’s orders,” Oliver told me as we walked further down the passage, ”After you managed to run away in the fashion you did, everyone was shocked. What you did took not only luck but guts, finding the abandoned portal and all…
Well the Prince called you –what was it—oh yes, ”A damn little Houdini Vixen” I think the phrase was that he used—and he forbade us to mention the citadel to you at all. And of course he IS the Prince!”
It was my turn to laugh.
“Thanks for telling me that. It shows that the Prince has a sense of humor, and I honestly don’t get to see that side of him much. It seems like we are either in front of others, or having private time, or fighting over something, you know?”
Theda squeezed my hand.
“You know what? You’re right? You never got to go through the ‘getting to know each other ‘ stage! You never, well, DATED or anything! You’re basically in sort of an arranged marriage Tris!”
I looked at her, realizing not only was I short enough that I literally looked up to her, but also that she had always given me the best advice of anyone.
“And Theda, you were in kind of a similar situation. I mean we both ended up here as snatchlings! We were abducted for Gosh sakes! But still you adapted so very quickly, even figured out what you wanted and didn’t want…”
I looked pointedly at her eye patch.
“You even figured out what to sacrifice,” I said soberly, reminding myself for the thousandth time that I would owe a debt to Theda forever because I still had two good eyes and she only had one.
I turned suddenly to Oliver.
“Why is it okay to serve a Prince who abducts young underage women and basically enslaves them Oliver? Why is that just fine with you?”
Oliver held his hands up defensively.
“Okay, well first a bit of a disclaimer….I don’t make the rules Princess, never have in fact. I was BORN into this kingdom. And frankly I think many of the abducted females end up better here than they would have ended up in the outside world…
“From what I’ve heard, things aren’t going well there lately. And if you will allow me to speak plainly, it’s pretty fucked up. True or not true?”
I knew he had a least somewhat of a point, but I felt stubborn about the whole being abducted against my will scenario.
“Be that as it may,” I said, ”And even given the completely skewed morals and mores of this Kingdom, there is just something wrong about abduction as your preferred vehicle for replenishing the female population in the Silo. Period.
“In fact, I shall speak to the Prince about it after the Ice Giant threat is over!”
Although I managed to shoot Oliver a superior look, I could see Theda, her eyes wide, shaking her head at me. It had always been a fault of mine that I could not stand to lose an argument, or even a board game. I felt a lot of resentment toward Oliver at that moment. I thought it was callous of him to assert that the ways of the Cliff dwellers were without reproach, and should never be questioned.
It wasn’t until later that night, after we’d heard the gunfire again followed by a second and then a third loud sound, as though a glacier had somehow collapsed, that I realized my resentment toward Oliver was based on unrequited lust.
Later I would blame the Prince being wounded. He had gotten sliced in the shoulder by the edge of one of the Ice Giant’s flair. It consisted of a blackened , spiked metal ball on a long chain.
From all the retellings of the events of the battle that day, I gathered that the Prince had blown his battle horn as he stood facing the biggest of the monsters. It had immediately charge
d him of course, swinging its flail.
If even one of the spikes on the huge weapon had caught him across the body he would have been shish kabobbed, but as luck would have it the Prince managed to fly almost entirely out of harm’s way.
Almost being the operative word. Because the end of a spike had caught him on the outside of the shoulder, slicing the massive, flesh of his bicep to the bone on the right side.
Although it healed enough to prevent the Prince from passing out, the monster’s weapon had been dipped in a poison that impeded the Prince’s ability to heal as rapidly as he was usually able.
Being the Prince, he had wrapped a tourniquet around the wound and fought on until the last Ice Giant lay in large fleshy chunks on the ground, defiling the beautiful landscape around our part of the Arctic Circle.
I had run to his side when they brought him back in, barely able to stand from both his battle fatigue and his loss of blood.
He had looked at me, holding out his arms.
“Jeg elsker deg,” he told me, ”Alt for deg”.
I had run into his arms, his blood soiling my beautiful dress. He had just said that he loved me and everything he did was for me. To hear such a confession from the beautiful man that had claimed me body and soul should have been enough. I should have spent that night with the doctor hovering over him, at his side as he lay recovering from his wounds.
But as it turned out, I did not.
I meant to, I really did. I read to him for awhile from his favorite books, especially the ‘Referendum’ by Pollux Noble which was his favorite inspirational book. I knew he was sleeping but I hoped the sound of my voice would soothe him, perhaps even speed up his healing process.
Finally, deep into the perpetual night, I felt someone shaking my shoulder.
It was one of the nurses. As I opened my eyes I saw that the Royal Physician himself had fallen asleep in a large comfortable wing backed chair at the side of the Prince’s bed.
The nurse peered into my face.
“You must get some rest,” she whispered. The Prince has been given a sleeping draught and will not awaken before noon tomorrow, and even then Doctor is determined that he should rest one more day. Please retire in your chambers. I will come to get you if anything changes Princess Tristina!”
I rose from the uncomfortable chair I had pulled up closely to the Prince’s bed. His bed was so immense that I could not kiss his face, but one of his hands was sprawled across the coverlet and I bent and kissed the back of it.
When my lips brushed over the Prince’s skin, the silver and ruby signet ring he always wore glowed and pulsed for a few seconds, as though registering approval for my tenderness toward its owner.
I was halfway across the room, out of the nurse’s sight, and walking slowly toward the door when something caught my eye.
It was the Prince’s wardrobe, still hanging open on one side.
As if in a trance I walked toward it, my heart racing that the nurse or a servant would come racing around the corner and question what I was doing.
That never happened, and I slipped inside, feeling with my fingers in the darkness for the edges of the door we had slipped through that day, not even realizing why I suddenly felt that it was so important to me to return to the passage behind it.
The shadows were long in the stairwell. I had no flashlight and the torches, a mix of electric and traditional, cast wild shadows along the stone wall of the spiral staircase.
At last I was on the bottom, and as I stepped into the passage the first thing I made out was a tall shadowed figure.
Wordlessly, barely breathing from both apprehension and excitement, I approached the shadow, though I was sure of who it must be.
It was Oliver.
As we stood directly under one of the torches, I could see that his eyes shone brightly in the gloom, and his handsome face was filled with pain.
“Oh GOD Tristina,” he whispered hoarsely, ”Why are we here?”
I was mute. I couldn’t begin to answer his question.
He looked around furtively, then took my hand and pulled me down the passage, stopping before a narrow unmarked arched door set back into an alcove.
Taking a key from his pocket, he eased it into the lock and pulled me in.
Inside there was only a lit candle, a nightstand, and a narrow neatly made bed with a blanket folded on the end.
“My room,” he said , smiling a little, ”I’m sorry it’s not better.”.
I looked up at him, shaking my head.
“I don’t care,” I told him, and then it was if some invisible floodgate had burst open.
Oliver ripped at my clothing with ferocity that he had never shown me, as I tore at his with the same anguished and frenzied desperation.
When we were both nude, devouring each other with hungry eyes heavy lidded with lust, he placed me back onto his bed and lowered himself over me, never allowing his gaze to stray from my face.
“You have to keep your eyes open Tristina,” he said, his voice a deep rumble as he changed position, gently pushing my legs apart and insinuating his throbbing shaft between them, ”I have to know that you are giving yourself to me willingly. That you want me inside of you as much as I desire to be there. Can you do that?”
I nodded, expecting to feel a warning of some sort, but instead I felt that I was melting, my lips melting against his, my melting sex straining toward him.
Oliver pushed my thighs up until they encircled his waist and then opened me with his penis. I heard myself moan with the pleasure of having him inside me at last. No more arguing about nothing at all to dispel our sexual tension, or pretending we didn’t want each other.
We were finally fucking and it was glorious. I abandoned myself to his touch, and he abandoned himself to mine. It was the first time in my young existence that I felt sexually free.
I had picked up some bedroom talk from the maids.
“Knulle meg hardt!” I told him, and he responded,
“Jeg vil knulle deg hardt, Prinsesse!”
And he did fuck me hard. He did everything I wanted him to. But finally we both became aware that time had passed, and that accidental discovery could mean both our deaths.
As we helped each other redress, I noticed a tear running down his cheek. And then another.
“Oh no,” I breathed , my mouth against his, ”No… please Oliver I am so happy. Please don’t be sad.”
“Tristina these are happy tears. I thought I would die without ever having the joy of being close to you, of making love to you. Of making you come….
“I love you, you know. I have from the first moment we met. I didn’t care that you had a terrible smart mouth and a hella temper…I just adored you from the start.
“You have made me the happiest I have ever been in my life, Princess. And the saddest. Now I have betrayed my Prince, by loving what is rightfully his…
He kissed me on the mouth, and then the forehead.
“You must leave now, before we are discovered. Sweet dreams Tristina. I am a happy man, and I hope I have loved you well as you deserve.”
He had loved me better than I deserved.
THE OPPOSITE OF LOVE
When I woke up later it was because the maid servants were clucking their tongues and fussing over me. I had fallen asleep in the gown I’d been wearing when the Prince was carried in . I immediately sat up, realizing that I hadn’t checked on the Prince for hours. My first impulse was to run to him to make sure he was healing.
I knew I needed to bathe and change clothing, but I felt impatient. It seemed to be taking forever.
How was I feeling? Like any woman who was anxious to find out how her wounded man was doing. The events of the previous night had disappeared from my mental focus entirely. As soon as I was ready I ran to my Prince.
I did think of it fleetingly as I walked past the laundry cart where the servant had tossed my bloodstained dress for laundering. One side of it from the shoulder to past the waist
line was covered with a crimson swath.
I found it fitting in a strange way that I should have given myself to Oliver wearing the Prince’s blood like a banner.
I wondered where the shame I thought I should be feeling was? Was this what it meant to be a vampire, that I could sleep with both the males I desired without remorse? Oliver was human and the Prince was not.
I had to face the fact that I had changed, and probably was still changing. I was not the same naïve, frightened young girl that had been brought here to this harsh and glistening land.
I was the Vampire Princess Tristina.
When he saw me enter the room he said my name and stretched one hand out toward me. He was sitting propped up on cushions against the head of his bed, naked above the waist except for a swath of bandages wrapped across his chiseled torso. His mask was a plain black silk one. I was sure it had been chosen for comfort while also observing decorum.
“You look wonderful!” I told him delightedly, ”How do you feel? Are your wounds healed?”
“I’m going stir crazy,” he told me, looking deeply into my eyes and smiling, ”And wanting my Princess. I don’t care what the Physician says I refuse to stay in this bed!”
Looking around him at the servants milling about he announced,
“ALL OF YOU LEAVE US!”
After some scurrying and bows as the staff assigned to the Prince’s care exited, we were finally alone, and he pulled me to him, kissing me long and hard. His warmth was reassuring to me, his lips searching mine endlessly was intoxicating.
He flipped me over at one point and I heard him say something uncharacteristic.
“OU
CH!” he said loudly.
I gasped and tried to turn around.
“No it’s okay,” he said, but I could hear that his breathing was ragged, ”Damn it all I forgot that I could ever feel pain like this. It’s been awhile.”
I twisted back around, looking at my masked lover with a sense of amusement.
