by GR Griffin
"It's barbaric!" She said after a pause.
"Is it any more barbaric than slitting a cow's throat, and eating the meat off it's bones?" questioned Brahms. "Or is it the drinking blood aspect you find so disgusting? Unlike the mortals with their cattle, we don't have to drain a donor of all their blood."
"You don't?"
"We don't." He assured her. "There are many factors, many dependent on the age of the vampire in question. You'll find the older the vampire, the less he needs to drink. Whereas a fledgling..." A pointed look was directed her way, a reminder of what she now was. "Will find the thirst upon them often. It is often the fledgling who have the lack of control needed to not kill the donor."
"But I have seen your kind feed! I've seen the vampires kill, drink their victims to death!" Silmeria protested.
"I can guarantee you that was predominantly on the battlefield." Brahms told her. "War brings out the worst in all races, and we vampires make use of what is available to us." He purposefully flashed his fangs then. "Our fangs and our claws are potent weapons, and the blood of our enemies invigorate us. Just as the Valkyrie and einherjar strive to kill every last vampire they come across, we too attempt to do the same to them."
"But a Valkyrie would gain no advantage off of feeding off a vampire!" Silmeria was quick to point out.
"It is perhaps unfair until you realize the Valkyrie are minor deities in their own right. Little Goddesses fighting a war on Odin's behalf, working to exterminate my people."
"We fight to protect the realms from your kind!" Silmeria lifted her chin. "If we did not stand against you, who would?"
"If it was not for Odin, we would have little reason to war." Brahms countered. A frown flickered across her lips, Silmeria troubled by his statement. Do you not even know who started this war? Who continues to keep it going, century after century?"
"The vampires of course." But Silmeria sounded uncertain then. He thought that good if he was able to cast doubts on what she had thought as absolute truth. "If we do not stop you, your kind will run rampant on the nine realms...."
"Is that what Odin tells you? Is that the lies he feeds his soldiers?" Brahms scowled then. "Silmeria, we merely wish to be left alone. To have that chance at life that the other beings in creation have already been given." She was shaking her head no, a doubting look on her face. "Odin would take that chance from us, would see us all dead. Even worse, he distorts the truth, twists his lies so that my people appear as nothing but villains and monsters to the rest of Creation!" His own hands had formed fists, Brahms pounding one on the arm rest of the chair.
"Why?" Silmeria asked in a shaky tone of voice. "Why would Odin ever need to lie about your kind?"
"Because he hates me." Brahms answered in a cold and dispassionate tone of voice. Silmeria's eyes did a slight widening, registering her surprise at his claim. Brahms gave credit where it was due, watching as Silmeria pulled herself together.
"And you are surprised?" She asked. "After all that the vampires and undead have done....?"
"Anything my vampires have done, has purely been in reaction to Odin's misdeeds!" Brahms snapped. "He has persecuted my race, damned our existence, and denied our souls both the peace of the heavens and of the underworld. We'll know no rest so long as he lives..."
"ENOUGH!" Her shout was sudden, but not entirely unexpected, given the way her rage had
crossed over her features. "I will not stand here and listen to any more of these...these lies of yours!"
"They are not lies." His voice was low, quiet but no less angry than hers. He didn't mean to be angry at Silmeria, but the rage was building, a millennia of misdeeds performed by her King towards Brahms' kind festering within him. He felt the resentment of his people, the anger they harbored, the indignities they had suffered after hundred of thousands of years of oppression and degradation.
"They have to be." Silmeria's insistence was telling. There wasn't much, but there was an uncertain tremble to her voice that gave Brahms hope that he had unsettled her. Unsettled her enough to build upon any doubts she might have had, Brahms pushing and prodding her towards the truth. The real reasons behind the vampires and Asgardians' war.
"They have to be." Silmeria insisted, bringing her hands up to hug her arms. But then she saw her claws, and her expression hardened, Silmeria dropping them away from her body. "Odin would not fight a war unless he had reason to. A reason the vampires and undead give him. He is attempting to do good, righting the wrongs of an existence that includes the undead." She trailed off at Brahms sudden snort, the vampire King letting out bitter laughter.
"Odin has never done anything for the good of anyone but himself."
"You're wrong about that...." She protested
"Am I?" Brahms challenged. "Then why does he continue to let the people of Midgard suffer? Why does he not end their pain and misery, cast away all that torments them? Instead he encourages them to war with each other, all to bolster his own armies up in the heavens with the soldiers who died in their battles. Hel! Why does he not allow anyone into the heavens, save for those who die as a warrior? Why does he deny paradise to so many? A paradise that was meant to be experienced by all who proved worthy?!"
He could see Silmeria had no concrete answer for that, her mouth a disturbed frown. Relentless, Brahms continued. "Odin is a user and abuser, with no regards to those who can't further his own ambitions. He tolerates the mortals because they pay him homage, and give him strong warriors. Otherwise he would not give one whit towards who fed upon them!"
"N....no..." Another shake of her head, and then her expression hardened. "I do not know where this...this twisted belief comes from. Maybe it's born out of an existence that has extended for too long. Maybe you've lived long enough for your mind to grow addled, to distort the truth as you know it. But Odin? He is NONE of what you say! He is a kind and caring ruler, a merciful God that has been besieged for too long by the undead."
"He's never had a kind and caring bone in his body." Brahms retorted. "How old are you Silmeria? I suppose it matters not, you haven't lived anywhere as long as Odin and I have. Certainly you haven't lived long enough to become intimately familiar with the history between us, or the beats of this war. I dare say none of the Valkyrie that are still alive, are old enough to have walked among us during the first years of the war."
"Because they died fighting your kind!" Silmeria was quick to point out.
"Died in battle, or given away to marry and breed new warriors." Brahms told her. "Odin was always quick to utilize his tools, knowing the children of the retired Valkyries would produce the strongest soldiers for him to call upon. He cares not what happens to the Valkyries, so long as they can continue to be of use to him. If not in battle with a sword, than in bed on their backs!"
She moved with that preternatural speed, Silmeria's a blur that appeared right in front of his seat. Her arm was already lashing out, hand slapping him full on the cheek. Such was her strength, that his head turned to the side, pain ringing on his cheek. He tasted blood, Brahms realizing he had bit his tongue when Silmeria had slapped him.
"How dare you." She was hissing in a low tone, eyes brimming with anger.
"I dare plenty, though in this you know I speak the truth." Brahms caught her hand when Silmeria attempted to slap him a second time. Her lips drew back, fangs flashing as she snarled at him. He kept his expression as neutral as he could manage, given all the anger flashing in his eyes. "How many Valkyrie have you seen forced to a man's bed? Stripped of their divinity, and made into nothing more than a man's possession? How many have despaired at this fate, how many have preferred to die in battle rather than be given away like that?"
Some of Silmeria's anger had cooled, the girl looking shaken by whatever thoughts she was having. It made Brahms want to pull her down onto his lap so that he could wrap his arms around her in comfort. But Brahms knew she would go ballistic if he was to embrace her now. He softened his voice, trying for tender regret as he spoke. "I
know it's not easy to hear. You don''t want to face that your King could be a manipulative lair, that he could have used everyone around him, especially the Valkyrie. But Silmeria, there is so much more you do not know...so much more to the story than what Odin would want you to know. Here is your chance to find out the truth...and make a decision on what is really right and wrong."
"As if I could believe anything you would tell me." Silmeria whispered, trying to pull her arm free of his grip.
"You're not ready to take my word for it, but there are other ways." Brahms saw the suspicion flare to life in her expression. He kept on holding her arm, but his other hand rose, claws extending. But he didn't reach out to Silmeria with them, instead running the tips of his claws over his throat. They cut into the grooves Silmeria had made with her claws earlier, and immediately blood began to well out of him.
Just as immediate was Silmeria's hungry look, her gaze fastening on his throat before she could stop herself. With his grip on her arm, Brahms began to draw her closer, guiding her between his spread legs. At first there was no resistance, Silmeria practically floating forward. But she didn't take that final step towards taking his neck, Brahms fingering the blood before bringing his wet fingertips towards her lips.
A gasp from her, the moment ruined as she tried to jerk back. "What are you doing?!" She asked, tone alarmed. "I will not..."
"There is memory in the blood." Brahms told her. But he made no more effort to try and touch her lips with his fingertips. "Through feeding, I can share with you my memories."
"Share..." She repeated uncertainly. "You can do that....?"
"I can." He nodded. "Think of it Silmeria. With just a few mouthfuls of my blood, you can get the answers you so clearly need. You can learn for yourself the origins of the war, the truth behind Odin and ME." He made his tone seductive, as if that could will her towards drinking. "The truths you long for are yours for the taking. All you need do is drink from me...."
"And lose my soul in the process..." She whispered. But her eyes were once again riveted on his bleeding throat.
"Vampires are not soulless." Brahms corrected her gently. "We've merely been dealt a harsh hand by a God who hates what he cannot control." He was tugging her forward again, ready to take advantage of her distraction. She moved without protest, Silmeria actually licking her lips as she stared at the blood. Was she close to giving in? Would her desire for the truth bring her to take his neck? Brahms actually trembled in anticipation, letting his head fall back to offer up his throat to Silmeria. She seemed to shiver and shake in response to the sight of it, a helpless moan escaping her.
Triumph rocketed through him, Brahms certain he heard her surrender in that moan. He didn't dare speak though, not wanting to ruin the moment, and knowing almost anything would be enough to frighten her away from the feeding he offered. But still, Brahms closed his eyes, his trembles increasing as he felt Silmeria's breath on his skin. All too soon he would feel her fangs pierce his flesh, and already he was half hard with sexual arousal as he imagined how sweet feeding her would feel. He had to fight to keep from moaning her name, feeling as though this
moment was suspended in eternity.
Chapter 10: Ten
There was much to reflect on from the heated conversation she had just been having with Brahms. It hadn't yet escalated into full out argument, but Silmeria was angry all the same. She had slapped him for a most impertinent comment. A comment that had hurt her for the ring of truth it held to it. And all because Silmeria understood that Odin had only two paths laid out for his Valkyries. To fight for him, and to breed new warriors for him. It angered and upset her, especially the knowing look Brahms had given her as he had stated so cruelly the Valkyries' purpose.
It wasn't the only thing that was upsetting her. Brahms had been actively trying to get her to doubt Lord Odin. He was making claims, wild ones that spoke of the vampires not being at fault for the war. His words had even hinted at some personal vendetta the God had against Brahms, as if Odin was not motivated by a sense of justice and need to do right with this war.
Silmeria hated hearing these things about Odin. She hated that Brahms tried to make her doubt her King. She even hated that there was a small part of her that was intrigued by some of what Brahms had said. And all because she was full of curious longing that made Silmeria desire to know just exactly how the war had started. She wondered how the vampires had grown to be so powerful that they could stand against a God. Why Odin hadn't destroyed them before they could become a problem.
Brahms hadn't made her doubt Odin, not completely. But he did tempt her into wanting to hear more. To learn more, even if what she was told was some embellished lie. And all because Silmeria knew that to lie, some kernel of truth had to be planted inside the deception. She'd pick at the lie, until Silmeria found the real truth. And with that truth, she would equip herself with it's power, to better defend against Brahms and his temptations.
Unfortunately, the greatest temptation Brahms could offer Silmeria was before her now. The Vampire Lord had scratched open his throat with his claws so that his blood flowed out in a steady trickle. The red streams flowed down his chest in a seductive tease, slowly caressing over his muscles and going lower down his abdomen. Her mouth seemed to water as she stared at the blood, her eyes constantly returning to the source of it's flow. Silmeria had the strangest of impulses, the girl wanting to bend over Brahms, and lick up all that blood.
She could see herself, dropping to her knees to follow with her tongue the trail of blood. Licking it off each line of his body, before fastening her lips to the clawed open marks on his throat. Marks she would work to open even further, Silmeria sealing her mouth over them to drink up every drop of his blood. She didn't know how his blood would taste, but if smell was anything to go on, it would be absolutely delicious.
A moan escaped her, and without thinking, Silmeria stepped forward. Her fingers were curling, flexing rhythmically with the need to sink her claws into something. To clutch and hold onto Brahms' body as she fed from him. This was pure need that was driving her forward, Silmeria aware her hunger had been mounting the entire time she had talked to Brahms. Had talked and scented the dried blood on his skin.
The urge to feed had become a million times worse once a fresh source of blood was presented to her. Silmeria could barely remember what Brahms had been saying, only recalling some oddity about there being memory in the blood. She didn't know about that, but Silmeria knew there was danger in drinking. Danger in drinking from anyone, regardless of their race.
Even as she leaned in, her breath ghosting along his skin, Silmeria was trying to remember just what that danger was. She trembled from the force needed to restrain herself, Silmeria's own eyes closing. That dark seductive voice inside her? The one that was oh so hungry? It whispered now that just a taste would be all right, that there would be no harm it taking enough to remove the edge off her hunger.
Her flexing fingers caught on his vest, and Silmeria used her new found hold to pull herself closer to him. Her body was pressed against his now, Brahms' legs spread so that nothing prevented Silmeria from plastering herself against him. She didn't let go of his vest, fingers tightening their hold. She could smell the blood, and it was an enticing, rich aroma. It urged her closer, Silmeria's breath coming faster as she took in deep inhales of the blood's scent. The fangs in her mouth reacted to that tantalizing smell, lengthening till it became impossible to close her mouth around them.
She was quickly becoming all predator, the sounds from her throat no longer helpless whimpers but eager, hungry growls. Heightening her predatory instinct was the fact that Brahms was trembling against her. She wasn't fooled into thinking he feared her, but the predator didn't care. It just registered that there was prey before her, willing and not putting up any signs of a struggle.
Again she wanted to do that lavish lick across the bleeding claw marks, get her tongue thoroughly drenched with his blood. Something deep inside her tightened i
n arousal, all in reaction to the image in her head. But as strong as that arousal was, it frightened her. Silmeria was unused to sexual desire, in wanting something so badly it could make her body react so strongly. Even as her nipples grew taut, pushing against the fabric of her dress' bodice, Silmeria was fighting back through the arousal and hunger. And what Silmeria found when she opened her eyes was almost enough to tear a shriek from her throat.
Brahms had his head tilted back so that his throat was offered up to her. His eyes were closed, but his mouth was a near smirk. He radiated anticipation, and a keen sense of satisfaction in what Silmeria was about to do. Her hands gripped his vest harder, but she no longer wanted to cling to him. The blood's scent was both seducing and repulsing her, Silmeria trying not to choke on the sudden wave of nausea that coursed through her.
Brahms sensed the change in her almost immediately, his eyes snapping open. She shook all the harder, fists frozen in place on his vest. "Silmeria..." He began in a voice that seemed to rasp on her nerves.
"Don't!" She interrupted him with a curt word, her head shaking no. "Don't say it...don't say anything..." She might lose it if he urged her to drink, might tear herself screaming from him then. His weighty gaze was on her, his crimson eyes holding something that might have been pity in them. Silmeria couldn't bear his mercy, anymore than she could stand the cruelty of what he had done to her.
Of course he didn't listen to her pleas, expelling a deep breath before speaking. "Silmeria, it will get easier once you have fed. Once you continue to feed."
She jerked back with a convulsive movement, horrified when her claws snagged hold of his vest's fabric. She couldn't think clear enough to get them untangled, shaking hands jerking again and again in an attempt to get away from him. And all because she realized Brahms didn't enter into this feeding with the expectation that it would be a one time thing. He fully expected it to be the first of what would be an eternity of feedings, Silmeria's hunger never ending, not unless someone ended her miserable existence for her.