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OSVP	By : LotornoMiko Category: +S through Z > Valkyrie Profile Views: 1214 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Valkyrie Profile or the charcters from it. I make no money off of the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-OSVP
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty One
- 22-Twenty Two
- 23-Twenty Three
- 24-Twenty Four
- 25-Twenty Five
- 26-Twenty Six
- 27-Twenty Seven
- 28-Twenty Eight
- 29-Twenty Nine
- 30-Thirty
- 31-Thirty One
- 32-Thirty Two
- 33-Thirty Three
- 34-Thirty Four
- 35-Thirty Five
- 36-Thirty Six
- 37-Thirty Seven
- 38-Thirty Eight
- 39-Thirty Nine
- 3
- 4
- 5
Off the distant coasts of Lassan, there exists an island. Where the forest grows wild and out of man's control, the tallest of trees seeming to stretch higher than seemed possible. A thick canopy of perpetual green made a roof over this forest, blocking out much of the sun's rays. Numerous untamed beasts ran this land, brought in from all corners of the world, to offer a thriving populace of wild creatures.
These beasts served as both a food source and a deterrent to ward off the humans that might seek to trespass out on this island. Of course the wild animals weren't the only dangers out there, there was far more sinister threats that existed within the forest. For monsters walked this land, ghouls and zombies, chimeras and wraiths. Those were just some of the undead that roamed this land, the monsters ruled under the thumb of the vampires.
This island was both a home and a base of operations to the vampires. The land they could return to when they were driven off from elsewhere in Midgard. At any odd time, there was at least several hundred vampires currently at rest on the island.
And somewhere near the heart of the ancient forest, there was a castle. It had existed for a millennia, the stone work old and bearing signs of both age and the weather that had blasted it on occasion. Every few decades, the stones would have to be replaced, the lesser undead laboring to make sure the outside walls did not give in to the temptation to collapse.
And still the castle was a beautiful if rickety sight to see. The stones, discolored from the rains, were bronze in color. With heaps of moss and vines growing up the sides of the walls, with flowers budding on the greenery. They reached as high as the third floor of the castle, stopping just short of twirling around the fourth floor turrets. Between the four corners of the castle towers, the fourth floor opened up onto a roof top courtyard. Many a vampire could be seen up there at any given time of day or night, relaxing in the shade, and holding conversations with one another.
Even now there was a group of them outside, speculating wildly on the recent events that had brought their lord back from the battlefield. Brahms could hear them, their voices carried on the wind. Like stray whispers that even Brahms with his enhanced hearing had to strain to hear. It amused him to listen to them, but more importantly it helped to pass the time.
They couldn't distract him though, not from the girl who currently lay in his bed. His crimson colored eyes constantly sought out her blanket covered form, Brahms seeking reassurance that she was indeed here with him. It was as though he feared she would vanish right from under him, even though he knew it would take quite the sizable army to tear her from his side. Nor would he allow her to flee him, Brahms determined that she would remain in his keep for all time.
It had been a difficult endeavor to bring her here, one fraught with peril from all sides. Including from his own people, Brahms fighting back an annoyed growl as his fingers clenched on the sill of the window he stood before. The rage that filled him was a familiar one, Brahms thinking back on how close he had come to losing the girl completely. And all through the careless actions of his own vampires, the group dispatched to kidnap the Valkyrie from the battlefield losing any semblance of control they had thought they had on the situation.
The vampires in question claimed it had been an accident. That the Valkyrie had been too wild and unpredictable, too aggressive in her fighting. Claims had come that she had forced their hand, made them attack and injure her in so great a manner. Brahms could understand a minor injury, one meant to briefly render her incapable of fighting. But what had occurred was far more brutal, the Valkyrie's armor torn open, her blood spilled every which way. She had nearly died then and there, if not for the intercession of her fellow Asgardians.
Brahms had been beyond livid when he had heard what had happened, and grew even more so when he had learned of how debilitating her injuries were. It should have been no surprise to anyone that he had torn apart several of the vampires responsible for the Valkyrie's injuries. Those that had survived the massacre had been staked, and left to slowly rot to death before the newly risen sun.
His advisors hadn't understood his upset. After all, what was a few injuries given what Brahms planned to do to the Valkyrie? They thought he had overreacted to the news, frowning disapproval and muttering things about how she had made Brahms lose his head. Some part of him wondered if that was true, if he wasn't becoming half crazed and obsessed with wanting her. But they all failed to miss the point, the Valkyrie could have died long before Brahms could have gotten to her. To force the change on her, and make her into one of his own kind. That would have been simply unacceptable, and more vampires would have died at his hand during his grief stricken rage.
All through his musings, his eyes stayed on the girl's face, taking reassurance from the fact she was still here. She wasn't alive in the strictly traditional sense of the word, right now mimicking the sleep of death. She'd continue to remain that way for a few minutes more, the sun not yet set on this, the third day since they had fed from each other.
Just remembering the feeding was enough to make him let out a moan of pleasure, Brahms running his tongue over his top most fangs' tips. A rumble of hunger worked it's way through him, Brahms thirsting for more of her blood, even though it was surely tainted after the transformation he had forced on her. The blood of a Valkyrie was always a sweetly addictive taste. This girl's had proven even more so, and Brahms had had to fight the temptation of it. Otherwise he himself would have drank her to death, and been left with nothing but the memory of her, and her blood warming his veins briefly.
Even three days later, he was still flushed with the power the Valkyrie's blood had given him. If anything he should have been out on the battlefield, ending more lives while he was empowered so. But fighting was the last thing Brahms wanted to do, and so he had rushed back to the island, the Valkyrie carried in his arms the entire journey. He had trusted no one else to handle her, especially not while she was in the midst of being transformed.
Brahms could admit that there was a strong part of him that had simply enjoyed clutching the battle maiden against him, enjoying the way her frail form felt in his strong arms. She felt like she belonged in his embrace, like she was the key to that which he had been missing all these long years. There was something about the Valkyrie, something that called to him. It made Brahms certain that she would be the one to end the loneliness he had begun to suffer through as eternity stretched onwards indefinitely.
He had lived a long life, just how long even Brahms could not recall. The endless years had stretched into forever, time and memories blurring so that even he could not remember it all. He was the oldest of the vampire race, and many myths and stories abound about him. Some said that Brahms was the source from which the first vampires came from, while others whispered he was as old as Odin if not older. Certainly the struggle between the Asgardians and the undead had lasted for an eternity, the conflict holding roots that stemmed from before the mortals of Midgard became civilized beings.
The mortals were part of the source of conflict between the Asgardians and the undead. The Gods had never looked fondly on the undead preying upon the race they had created, the very race that worshipped the Gods and looked to them for guidance. Just as the undead did not appreciate the Gods interfering with their food source, the mortals able to feed several different types of undead through either their blood or their flesh.
Both the Gods and the Undead sought to bolster their armies through the mortals, humans being taken to become einherjar for Asgard, or made into some hellish undead creatures. It kept the war going, and it would continue for as long as there was mortals to fight with and over. The mortals were a race that should have been considered insignificant, and yet almost everything that happened, occurred because of them.
Take the girl in his bed. Brahms knew that somewhere in the distant past, she had had parents. A Goddess who had lost her immortality, and been tied to a mortal man. Both had been warriors and together they had conceived, the child inheriting her mother's immortality, and her father's strength. In this particular case, the couple had conceived several times over, creating three daughters who would grow up to be Valkyries. Those eternal battle maidens, who fought so hard for their King, slaying undead, and gathering up mortals to become warriors for Asgard.
The girl in his bed had been responsible for countless deaths among Brahms' armies. Her sword stained with numerous undead blood. She should have been an instant enemy to Brahms, and yet something had drawn her to him instead. That first time he had seen her, a mere slip of a girl garbed in indigo colored armor, should have also been the last. It should have been child's play for Brahms to strike her dead. In fact he had move to do just that, his clawed fingers flexing in preparation to tear out her throat. But he refused to attack from behind, waiting for the battle maiden to turn to face him.
That had either been a great mistake on his part, or perhaps his greatest salvation, Brahms catching sight of her eyes. Colored blue, they reminded him of the ocean waters that surrounded his island, all turbulent with violent waves. But it wasn't anger that had festered within them, nor did she wear the typical disdain her kind bore when dealing with the undead. Instead she had seem tired, a weariness that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion. It was the same kind of weariness that Brahms himself knew all too well, the Undead King having tired of eternity, and the endless fighting between his kind and Odin's warriors.
Of course that alone wasn't enough to get him to stay his hand, Brahms moving to strike the Valkyrie. Hard and fast was his intent, but that brief glimpse at her eyes had distracted him to the point he hesitated. It slowed his strike, the Valkyrie having time to bring her sword forward in a defending strike that nearly sliced off his claws and the fingers they were attached to.
It should have annoyed him. Instead it nearly stole a laugh from him, Brahms finding he was growing excited to fight her. It was not a feeling he was used to, nor was Brahms accustomed to drawing out a fight, and certainly not for such a flimsy excuse as to hold on to a foreign emotion. But draw it out he did, giving a command that held back his warriors, Brahms intending to spar with the battle maiden alone.
That surprised her, the briefest flicker of it showing in her eyes. It made him wonder what she had heard of him, if she thought him so craven and cowardly as to rely on others to do his fighting for him. But he had never been the type of fighter to overwhelm an opponent with an unfair advantage, and it would be a sore day in Nifleheim before Brahms himself could not handle one girl. Even if she was a Valkyrie with eyes that stirred emotions within him.
There had been fighting all around them, vampires and einherjar battling. But that soon came to an end, the two sides calling an unspoken truce to watch the figures of their commanders do battle. The vampires and einherjar kept their distance from each other, one eye on their enemies as they watched Brahms and the Valkyire fight. The battle maiden had decades of practice with her sword, but Brahms? Brahms had centuries on her when it came to combat. That and the difference in strength between them had made them both painfully aware of how unmatched the Valkyrie goddess was in comparison to the vampire King.
And yet he hadn't struck a killing blow, more intent on playing with her. Her incensed reaction upon the realization of what he was doing had amused Brahms, the vampire King thinking it funny when she demanded he hurry up and finish with her.
"Are you that eager to die?" He had asked her, and something showed in her eyes. It was that tiredness again, a resignation that shouldn't have belonged in her expression. It wasn't that she was suicidal, never that, but something which he could not guess at, made her weary. Of life, or perhaps of the endless battles the Valkyries must take part in.
Save for that look in her eyes, the Valkyrie hadn't answered him, not with words. With a challenging scream, she had thrust her sword, aiming for his heart. It was a last ditch move, more desperation than anything. Neither she nor Brahms had believed she'd hit him. If anything, it was an attempt to anger him enough to finish the fight, to quit his game with her. He had still been taken with her eyes, the blue so expressive in the moment. He had just barely managed to catch her sword in his hand, the blade's sharp edges slicing open the palm so that his blood fell to the ground between them.
They had exchanged a long look, the Valkyrie glaring defiance at him. He had simply plucked the sword free of her grip, and threw it towards his vampires. Without even pausing, he had swept her feet out from under her, the Valkyrie landing on her back. He'd land on top of her, Brahms' claws on her throat, his blood dripping onto her. She hadn't look frightened, nor did she close her eyes to block out the sight of what should have been her death. Instead she had held his gaze, eyes challenging him to do it, to end her tiredness.
Naturally her einherjar had grown alarmed, their voices rising in a panic. They had known they'd never be able to reach her in time, not before Brahms ripped out her throat. A glance over his shoulder would have shown his army moving to attack hers, but he stayed fixated on her face. "I do not understand you." He had said, tone almost conversational.
"What is there to understand?" She had asked in return. "We are enemies...it is our duty to fight, to continue to fight until one side is completely wiped out."
"It won't be the undead that dies this day." Brahms had told her. "We are many, and you are but just a handful."
"Others will come to take my place." She had retorted with a sigh. "The fighting will continue...for eternity if need be. It matters not what happens to me...My efforts here, and in the past make little difference in the long run." And that had bothered her, he could read it plainly off her face. She had wanted to matter, and he was sure he wasn't reading more to it than that. This battle maiden wanted a reason for her existence beyond the fighting she did.
At the time he had thought it a pity that she would never find that reason, Brahms intent on taking her throat. She was meant to be just one more Valkyrie for him to drink of, and then a scream had been heard.
"Silmeria!"
That scream, the Valkyrie's name, had been followed by an arrow. Brahms could hear it whistling as it soared towards him, the vampire being forced to let go of the Valkyrie's throat in order to catch the arrow. A new Valkyrie had arrived, a cold beauty with black hair and a reputation of being ruthless. Her appearance on the battle field seemed to galvanize the blond beneath him, this Silmeria knocking him off her.
Someone had thrown sword to her, the Valkyrie catching it. She had immediately set about to trying to take his head, Brahms forced to dance back to evade both her strikes and the arrows that flew towards them. The tide of battle had been turned, the vampires having to flee in the advent of the new Valkyrie and her einherjar. He too had to leave, and yet he had paused, long enough to hold Silmeria's gaze. It was a moment that made him want to linger, a million thoughts had been in his head at that time.
It was one of his Generals that had moved him, the man hauling him bodily out of the arrows' reach. They teleported just seconds later, but not before Brahms had shouted to her. "Silmeria! Live! Live and find your reason!"
The shocked surprise on her face had been worth the arrow that had speared him through the left shoulder. The pain of that blow hadn't been enough to keep him from teleporting, Brahms returning to one of the undead's camps. The Valkyrie Silmeria had been heavy on his mind, Brahms intrigued with her in a way he had never before been with a woman. And even less so with one that was an enemy of his!
He tried to be subtle in his interest, playing it off as though it was mere curiosity about an enemy he had failed to kill. Brahms had let his advisors believe he was strictly interested in ending the life of the Valkyrie Silmeria. He had even tried to lie to himself that that was where his true interest lay. And yet he had been haunted by her eyes, the beautiful blue that was colored with the same look Brahms often wore.
Information would come, bits of trickling in as it was difficult for his vampires to get close enough to the Valkyries without it ending in death. Brahms would learn that Silmeria had two sisters, one of which had been the black haired Valkyrie who had interrupted his intent to kill the blonde battle maiden. He would learn she was closer to her other sister, the two often together on the limited downtime they were allowed from the battle field.
A Valkyries' life was harder than he had imagined, their King Odin allowing little if any breaks from the fighting. It wasn't like with Brahms' undead, the groups taking shifts and allowing for enough time between them for each one to suitably rest up. But not the Valkyrie, the battle maidens forced to spend nearly the entirety of their immortal lives out on the battlefield. It was no wonder Silmeria seemed tired of it all. She had been out on the battle field as early as the age fourteen, long before her immortality had set in and frozen her at an eternal twenty-two.
That was unusual for a Valkyrie to be brought into combat so young, but then she had two older sisters she had wanted to emulate. At a time when Silmeria should have been living among the mortals, doing things a young girl should, she had been learning about violence and death, and how to kill efficiently. She had been put into more life and death situations than any one that young should have been, and by the time she was of eighteen years, she had several vampires' deaths on her hands. It made Brahms wonder if she had ever gotten to experience anything beyond the battlefield, especially with two older Valkyrie sisters to look up to and emulate.
Of course, in between the bouts of information he gleaned from his spies, Brahms would take part in the combat personally. Sometimes he'd catch sight of blonde hair peeking out beneath a feathered helm, the long strands gleaming like the sun. Or at least, what he remembered of the sun, Brahms not having witnessed the actual rising of one in several millennia's time.
It was Silmeria who he saw, though always from a distance, the battle maiden fighting with the undead. He never tried to get near to her, always keeping a distance, though it would have been easy enough to teleport to her and resume their earlier fight. But he didn't want to end her life, Brahms sure it was pity that stayed his hand for the experiences she had missed out on.
Truth be known, every sight of her, every bit of knowledge gleaned, was feeding into an infatuation with her. More information would come to him, Brahms learning Silmeria had a lovely singing voice, even if the only songs she sung were funeral dirges at the bequest of Odin. Brahms found himself yearning to hear her song for himself, and it was that desire that led him to do something foolish. A journey to the heart of the enemy's land, to the castle stronghold known as Valhalla.
Of course, ancient magic had been employed to bespell the stones against the vampires' teleportation. But they couldn't ensorcell the land around the building, Brahms teleporting as close as he dared to. He had gone dressed in form fitting black, to better blend in with the shadows. And from them he crept, darting from one dark corner to another, evading the guards as he made his way about the castle.
He'd find her inside the enclosed garden that took up space in the South western part of the castle. There was a large stone fountain in the very center of the flowers, large spurts of water cascading down it's sides. Silmeria was with one of her sisters, the one with the platinum colored hair who was known as the Valkyrie Lenneth. It was a rare moment of relaxation between the two, both battle maidens having removed their feathered helms. Silmeria currently had her hands in Lenneth's hair, careful concentration showing in her eyes as she worked to braid up that long mass of platinum.
They talked quietly, much of their conversation discussions about battles, and the tactics needed to attempt a win against the undead. They seemed to be avoiding all talks of the ritual that would take place that very evening, the funeral procession that was set to begin in less than an hour's time. It was for that funeral procession that Brahms had snuck into the castle, the man intent on hearing the Valkyrie's song for the departed warriors.
Lenneth and Silmeria would talk a while more, though it was strange talk for two sisters. But he was quick to realize to the Valkyrie, they had no life other than the battle, and thus all their topics would stem from what they did know. Their parents had long been dead for centuries, and with their passing, all their ties to the mortal realm of Midgard had ended. Valkyries tended to be virginal in nature, so there was no lovers, secret or otherwise for them to giggle about. Frankly he couldn't imagine a battle maiden doing something as girlish as that, especially ones as war hardened as these two were reputed to be.
A gong would ring, the two Valkyries glancing up as startled birds took flight. Silmeria would hand Lenneth her helm, the Valkyrie carefully placing it over her hair so that not even one strand was drawn out of place But when she moved to leave, she noticed Silmeria lingered by the fountain. "Aren't you coming?"
"You go on ahead. I shall follow you soon enough."
"If you're sure." Came the reply, the Valkyrie Lenneth walking out of the gardens to step into the inside of the castle. Silmeria would continue to sit perch on the fountain's edge, staring off into the distance. Brahms had thought she was lost in deep thought, but the truth would turn out to be far different, the girl speaking out loud.
"I know you are there."
That had startled him, Brahms shifting so suddenly his back hit and disturbed a loose stone. Pebbles clattered to the floor, and Brahms could have blushed for his clumsiness. He hadn't expected her to sense him, for any of the Valkyrie to be able to know he was there when he was so determinedly cloaking his energy from them. He didn't know what to make of it, that this girl could sense him, that she might be more attuned to him than he had realized.
"Well? Out with you now!" Silmeria had demanded, her voice sounding impatient.
He was more bemused then anything than, Brahms practically shuffling his feet as he moved to stepped around the shadowed corner he had hidden himself in. As the torch light brought his features into focus, Silmeria had done something shocking. The girl had gasped, her eyes growing huge as she scrambled up out of her seated position. Her hand had already been reaching to draw her sword, and it was clear by the loss of her relaxed energy, that it was not Brahms she had expected to see.
Even as he had reacted to her movement, Brahms had had the time to wonder just who she had been expecting. Was she about to partake in some secret rendezvous? One that not even her sister Lenneth knew about? That thought had made something like jealousy spark in him, Brahms hoping it was not a lover but some messenger that had to do with the endless war. Either way, if someone came, regardless of their intentions, Brahms would have killed them then.
But for that moment he had had to deal with a shocked Valkyrie, Brahms' lunge putting him in reach of her. His right hand had closed around her wrist, squeezing it till she dropped her sword. As it clattered to the ground, his left hand was going across her mouth, to stifle her scream. He could not allow her to raise the alarm, to alert the people inside the castle to his presence here in Valhalla.
Her blue eyes had narrowed into a glare, Brahms staring into them. He had her restrained, but hadn't known what he had intended to do with her next. Brahms hadn't expected to actually initiate contact with her that night, and he had been loathe to even consider ending her life then and there. For the first time in a millennia, the great undead king had been rendered speechless, the vampire practically stuttering as he had tried to think of what he could possibly say to her.
She had taken the initiative for him, her teeth clamping down on the inside of his hand. He had grunted, more in surprise than pain, and more than a little shocked at her audacity. Not many of the Asgardians would dare risk being tainted by a vampire's blood, and yet she had risked it in order to dislodge his hand from her mouth. Instead he had squeezed her wrist harder, just short of cracking the bones there.
"You little minx." He couldn't help but be amused then, watching the anger fill her eyes. "If you promise not to scream, I'll uncover your mouth..." The poison filled look she had given told him she wasn't ready to give him that promise. It would seem he'd have to make threats, and as he had prepared to try and scare her into behaving, she suddenly bit him a second time!
"Stop that!" He had started to say, and then she had kneed him right between the legs. Mortal belief would have the undead, especially the vampires, painted as a lustless race. That the fiends were incapable of desire. The hard truth was vampire can and did have sex, and were well familiar with lust and desire. They bore no unfeeling organs between their legs, could feel pleasure or pain there. And right then, Brahms had felt pain, the vampire loosing his hold on the Valkyrie long enough for her to jerk free completely.
But she hadn't screamed, hauling away from him and lunging for her sword. He had still been gritting his teeth in pain when he had followed at her heels, reaching for the sword's hilt at the same time Silmeria had. Brahms had been a second too slow, Silmeria twisting the blade, turning it so that it's pointed tip grazed a slash across his chest. He had to jump back, eyeing her warily as she followed him.
"Calm yourself Valkyrie!"
"Why are you here?" She had hissed in retort, never taking her eyes off him. "If you think to slay my King..."
"It is not your King I seek this night..." It was an admission he shouldn't have blurted out, and Silmeria had looked startled at that. Interesting enough her face did not pale, though her gazed hardened, the Valkyrie thrusting her sword forward. He had been forced to spin to the left to avoid being impaled, the Valkyrie passing along the side of him. Close enough that he could have snagged his claws in her hair, but Brahms had resisted that temptation.
"If you think to finish what happened on the battlefield..." She pivoted about, already seeking to slash her sword at him a third time. "Know I will not go down without a fight."
"I wouldn't expect any less of you Valkyrie." Brahms had retorted. He had noted then that her lips were stained red from his blood. It had been a sensual sight, Brahms' own fangs lengthening in response. His voice had come out husky, he couldn't resist teasing her then. "How did you enjoy the taste of my blood, battle maiden?"
Silmeria had blinked in surprise, then had hastily brought her free hand up to wipe the blood's remains off her mouth. "I am no vampire to find enjoyment in tasting such a thing..."
"A pity for you. I know many who would die to get a taste of such a powerful drink."
"All who are damned and deranged, no doubt!" She had retorted, and struck again. This time when he had side stepped her, he caught her left arm, twisting it behind her back. She had grunted but otherwise did not cry out in pain, attempting to twist her sword and drive it backwards into him. He had grabbed that wrist, squeezing it until she dropped her blade. And then he had twisted the right arm to join the left behind her, Brahms pinning her against his broad chest.
She had trembled in agitation at the position he had held her in, Brahms leaning into her to sniff at her hair. That had instantly frozen Silmeria, her voice coming out perplexed. "What are you doing?"
Her voice had called attention to his odd act, Brahms caught with his nose buried in her hair. It hadn't stopped him from doing a deep inhale, nostrils flaring as he caught her scent. She had smelled very much like the polish used to clean her armor, and there had been the faintest smell of blood that no amount of washings could eradicate completely. Too often had this Valkyrie been showered with the blood of her enemies, it's scent clinging to her even at her cleanest. But it didn't turn him off from her, if anything it had aroused him. His fangs which had already lengthened in reaction to the blood coloring her pretty mouth, seemed to throb with a dull ache. It would have been all too easy to soothe that ache by plunging his fangs into her neck, a rush of power infusing him as he drank from her.
But he had ignored the insistent thirst within him, performing a move that had him nuzzling his cheek against her soft hair. She had said something then, repeating her earlier question. She had been unable to hide her unease, and it must have been a struggle for her to remain still without shaking. She was both prey and predator in the moment, and all it would take is one reaction to topple them both towards making her his prey.
"You smell of death." He had finally answered her, but conveniently let off how that scent of hers was arousing him. "The blood of my people is all around you, soaking into your skin..."
"You're one to talk." She had quickly retorted, voice snapping out angrily. "You reek of blood! Your breath is foul with it!"
Brahms had felt something like embarrassment then, for he knew to a Valkyrie the blood smell would not be an attractive quality. "I fed before coming here." He had admitted. The position he had had her in, kept him from seeing her face. Had she worn disgust then? He'd never know.
Silence had followed those words, brief but lasting long enough to be awkward. And when Silmeria had spoken, it had nothing to do with his feeding. "You've come here with a purpose. If it's not to kill King Odin...then..." He had felt her tensing up, she was preparing to do something, even though he had both her arms captive in his grip. "You've come to finish what was started on the battle field between us."
He had never gotten a chance to deny it, Silmeria had suddenly driven herself backwards so that her head had crashed into his face. His nose stung from the blow, the Valkyrie twisting desperately to get free of him. Even as he held on to her arms, she was stamping her feet downwards, the metal greaves she wore adding to the blow on his foot.
With a curse he had released her but only the one arm. She had jerked violently on the wrist he still held onto, glaring at him though she had never screamed. He had jerked on her arm too, causing her unwilling form to end up plastered against his broad chest. Quickly, he had put his other hand on the back of her head, claws almost pricking her scalp. She had glared up defiantly at him, Brahms staring down as he made an admission of truth.
"Yes, you guessed it. My purpose in coming here this night was to see you."
Why was the question in her eyes, but then a voice had suddenly called out. "Silmeria? Are you here?" A second voice soon joined the other, Brahms realizing that both the Valkyrie's sisters were looking for her.
Frustration had bloomed in him, Brahms not wanting the encounter to end. Silmeria had begun to renew her struggles, pushing at his chest with her free hand. The touch of her hand on his skin had electrified him, Brahms jerking back as though shocked. Silmeria lhad ooked ready to scream, he had been able to sense the nervous energy coiling within her.
"If you do not wish for your sisters to die this night, you will keep quiet about my presence here!" Brahms had hissed at her. Silmeria had read the truth of his words in his eyes. There would be a blood bath in the garden if he was forced to fight her sisters. She had nodded her understanding, Brahms dragging her towards the shadows. Mere seconds later, the two sisters would enter the garden, looking about for Silmeria.
Silmeria had stopped her struggles, a quiet tension working through her. She was uneasy, more so for her sisters' safety, than the fact she was in the undead king's arms. He could have lost himself to staring down at her face, but he hadn't let her nearness distract him so completely. Not with her two sisters prowling the garden, the women finding the forgotten helm and discarded sword of Silmeria.
Those objects were enough to raise the alarm, the Valkyries had initiated a search throughout the castle. The night's funeral procession had been all but forgotten, Silmeria's absence a far greater concern. It would take some maneuvering, but Brahms would manage to escape from Valhalla, with Silmeria in his possession. And the entire time, he hadn't known what he was going to do with her, the Valkyrie his unwilling hostage.
The smart move would have been to kill her, and flee. With her blood boosting his already considerable powers, it would have been too easy to take down any Valkyrie that crossed his path. And yet he had hesitated, and it had cost him, an enchantment being cast that extended beyond the castle walls. It was a temporary spell, but no less powerful than the ones on the stones of the castle. It had the power to prevent vampires from teleporting into the area, or out of it, forcing Brahms to travel in a more mundane way.
He hadn't even been able to steal a horse, all areas of the castle on alert for any suspicious activity. It had left Brahms and his captive to journey on foot, taking the less traveled paths away from the castle. He had bound Silmeria's hands behind her back with cord, even going so far as to muffle her voice with a gag. Of course, once they were far enough from Valhalla, he had removed it, wanting to hear her voice even if he thought all she would do is curse at him.
Their journey had been an odd one, the night seeming to stretch on to infinity. Silmeria had echoed his words from that first confrontation of theirs, telling him she didn't understand him. Back then he hadn't had a suitable reply, Brahms being just as confused as the Valkyrie was as to what he was doing. He hadn't come to Silmeria with the intent to kill her, and the more time he had spent with her, the further the line between them blurred. He hadn't wanted to view her as an enemy, and the conversations they had had, stilted though the talk was, further cemented his interest in her.
He had not gotten the chance to take her back to any of the undead camps. At that time, when Brahms had been at his most indecisive about Silmeria, it would have been sheer folly to take her among his soldiers. They would have demanded her death, and Brahms would have had to comply so long as he had not had a good reason for keeping her alive.
Her people would track them down, at almost the same instant remnants of his army would appear. Brahms had been surprised at the reluctance that boiled within him at the reality of parting from Silmeria. As surprised as he had been uneasy with it. Such that he had rebelled against the feelings he was developing for her, eagerly letting her slip his grip.
It would take some time for Brahms to come to terms with the feelings, and what had happened that strange night. But by the time he did, he would recognize Silmeria for what she was. A kindred spirit, a soul that matched his. Silmeria made his heart beat, his body yearn for something more than nourishing blood. And Brahms had been willing to be damned thrice over to possess her.
There would surely be consequence for what he had done, but Brahms was prepared to deal with those. As was he prepared to handle his people, some of which were worried over the making of a former Valkyrie into a vampire. No one knew what sort of creature he would have created, and many were uneasy about the idea of a Queen who had once been the death of so many of their own kind.
Brahms knew he would have to work to quell their fears, to overcome any worries his people might have. But the more challenging a task would be that of winning over Silmeria. Of getting her to accept her new life, both as a vampire, and as his bride. He wasn't sure what kind of adversity she would offer him, but Brahms was sure he would meet and succeed at all her challenges.
He could have lost himself in thoughts of both the past and the future he expected with Silmeria, but her awakening was upon him. The tell tale beat of her heart, weak as it began to flutter to life, was letting him know she was about to awaken for the first time as a vampire. His eyes went to her face, noting the slight tan of her skin. It would one day fade to the unearthly pale of all vampires, but for now she was still kissed by the sun. Her flesh wouldn't be the only change, her eyes would one day take on the crimson color of all undead. It was actually a shame, Brahms liking the lovely blue color of her Valkyrie eyes. But such a change would come, regardless of his wishes, once Silmeria actively began feeding on blood.
He would be there for her first feeding. A vampire's first taste of blood was always such a poignant moment, a significant first step towards accepting their new existence. Brahms intended to be there for all of Silmeria's firsts, to enjoy the highs and lows of eternity with his new bride. This awakening was the first of them, Brahms having kept strict vigil over her since arriving at the castle.
Her chest began to move, rising with feigned breath as her heart beat began to grow stronger. When Silmeria's eyes began to flutter open, Brahms felt a shiver of pleasure go through him. That beautiful blue color seemed to stare through him, and then they focused. He began to smile at her, a hint of fang in that expression as Brahms took one step towards the bed.
"Silmeria...How are you feeling?"
It was all he got to asked, she was suddenly lunging out of the bed with the preternatural speed of a vampire. Brahms had only seconds to react, his startled reaction showing on his face as Silmeria lunged towards him. As her hands went to close around his neck, her nails lengthening into claws, he had enough time to register that she was simply too fast for a newly awakened fledgling.
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To Be Continued...
I want to thank my friend Huntress for holding my hand as I struggled with this chapter. I let her read the first like...twenty paragraphs maybe...plus she listened to me ranting and raving in IM conversations as I got frustrated by this chapter, and how long it was turning out to be. It turned out so long, I have to push back Lezard's appearance to chapter six.
Michelle
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