by Kallysten
And lying against the strong body of her Childe, with the hope of never being alone again.
He had closed his eyes, and she wasn't sure whether he was asleep or just resting. She was exhausted herself. The effort of walking had taken a toll on her body, while the strong emotions she had experienced in the past hour had left her mind worn out. Even so, she refused to close her eyes and let sleep claim her. She didn't dare to. She was almost afraid that, if she did, she would awaken to find out that it had all been a dream. It had happened quite often in the past. She had allowed herself to dream her Childe would come back to her, only to be disappointed to the point of tears by the time she woke alone.
She kept her eyes on his face, detailing his relaxed features, refreshing her memory and relearning each trait of his face. She ached to bring her hand from where it rested against his chest to his face, to caress his chest, his lips, his eyelashes...
"Sleep, Sire,” he murmured, startling her. “I shall be here when you wake. You'll stare all you want then."
She started talking, but remembered she needed to have his attention first. Cupping his cheek, she ran her thumb lightly over it until his eyes opened.
"You will be here when I wake,” she repeated, “but what about tomorrow? What about the day after that? What about..."
He silenced her by placing his index finger across her lips.
"You worry too much, my love,” he murmured, and held her just a little tighter against him. Gabrielle fell asleep within moments, her fears forgotten.
* * * *
Variations of the same dream played through Gabrielle's mind as she fitfully slept through the morning and early afternoon. Things could have been so different if she had only noticed earlier what had been going on with her Childe. She could have truly talked to him, then, rather than have her words be lost to him.
When she finally woke, it was worse, because the images kept running over and over in her mind, until she wasn't sure anymore what was reality and what was only wishful dreaming. The one thing she knew for sure was that Erik wasn't with her, and it had never hurt as much as it did at that moment.
By the time night came, she had made her decision. And changed her mind a dozen times. But as the sun sank toward the horizon, there was no doubt left in her mind. If this was her last chance, then she needed to see Erik. Apologize, if the younger vampire would let her. Talk to him. Explain. And after that ... Who knew what would happen?
As she rode too fast toward what remained of the village she had once called hers, she tried to find the words to start, decide what she would say, imagine how Erik would answer. Only the previous night, she had been riding to him with the same kind of thoughts. But now, it was different. Now she knew why he hadn't answered her before, and she knew how to make sure that, this time, he actually heard her message, if not her words. She would have to be careful, though. Her biggest mistake would be to make Erik believe she was acting out of pity—it wasn't the case, and it was a sure way to anger her Childe to make him believe it was. So, she wouldn't mention his hearing problem. She would keep it simple.
As simple as things could be between the two of them.
Why had it ever become so complicated anyway? Erik had been the best Childe she could ever have dreamed to sire. Decades of teaching him the hunt and the subtleties of clan politics had passed in a blink; decades of sharing the same bed, of coming together every day, of love even if they never pronounced that word. Things could have continued as simply, as beautifully, if only Gabrielle hadn't realized her Childe had grown into his power. She could only wonder, now, what would have happened if she hadn't pushed him away. Tradition demanded that a Childe leave his clan when becoming strong enough to have his own lair, but Childer who stayed with their Sires long after they had reached a Master level themselves were not completely unheard of. Maybe if she had talked to him about it, she wouldn't have needed to regret her actions, or to watch Erik learn to hate her.
No, things would never be simple again between them. But maybe they could be better. Just maybe.
It was hours before she reached the point where the road ended with a broken stone bridge. Horses were tied to nearby trees, and as she tried to urge her own mount forward and it refused to enter the shallow water, she understood why. She quickly slipped down and patted it gently before leaving it behind her without tying its rein. She had lost her last horse by attaching it to a tree while she had been scouting an area for a demon camp she knew had to be near; she had returned to find her animal slaughtered, and promised herself not to make the same mistake again. She would rather lose a horse because it had wandered off than prevent it from being able to flee in front of danger.
The stones were slippery, but she managed to cross the river without having to walk in the water. As soon as she was on the other side, she started running, letting long gone memories guide her steps. She had never come back since the night after the battle; she had never been able to. But now she had a reason, and that reason made the ache in her heart and the guilt bearable if not any less.
The village—the battlefield—was as she remembered it. Two hundred years had not changed much the chaos left after the battle.
Ruins. Scorched bits of building. All of it still echoing in her mind with shouts and cries, the sounds of a world coming apart at the seams as doomed humans and vampires had fought side by side for their lives. For Gabrielle. She could almost see some of the villagers fleeing, warned—but too late—that the village was going to come under attack, that they had to evacuate. Many had been saved, but many more had died, by the hands of demons or the power of the Primal Forces. If her plan had worked, not a single one of them would have been hurt, and the demons would have been exterminated before ever reaching the village. But her plan had failed, and the people she had been supposed to protect had died. They had been humans—fragile, and mortal.
Despite the centuries that had passed, there wasn't a spot of green anywhere, no grass or wild flowers. The land was dead. Barren. And it was fitting. Too many had died here for life to ever prevail again. The Primal Forces had killed more than humans and vampires, Gabrielle now realized.
A few times, she stumbled, the lightning that streaked the sky every few seconds not strong enough to allow her to see where she was setting foot. The lightning never seemed to strike the ground, and the roar of thunder was practically continuous by now; all of it reminded her more and more of the battle. The lightning and thunder had started at the instant they had begun invoking the Primal Forces, and they had still been going on when she had left the following night. She had heard, from rumors encountered over the centuries, that the storm never ceased over the Lost Grounds. She had always thought it was only a myth; now, she understood that it was more than that.
The new realization was chilling her down to her bones, but she kept running, following the pull deep inside her that told her which way to go. When she saw them in the distance, and realized where they were, she almost wanted to laugh. Of course. It had to be there. On the same grounds where her lair had once stood.
She could distinguish five silhouettes as she came closer, slowing down as she tried to calm her thoughts. There was suddenly a flash of light, blinding and oh so brief, only different from the lightning that still flashed in the sky by its bright blue color. When Gabrielle's vision cleared four silhouettes only remained standing.
Walking now, she continued to approach, still hoping beyond reason. She recognized the girl first when she turned toward her. The other three wore the long white and crimson robes characteristic of human warlocks.
She was too late.
She had lost Erik.
Again.
Chapter 16
Erik hated speaking the language of magic.
He knew very little of it; he had never been much interested in magic as a human, and his interest had been only minimal as a vampire, usually restricted to how to avoid it. But now, as he had to remember five words—five ridiculous little
words—he could only despise the whole thing. Why couldn't they simply have cancelled the whole spell?
A light touch to his arm brought his attention to Meghan. She gestured to the piece of heavy parchment he had been clutching since they had left the village. The light of the moon was barely enough for him to distinguish the letters. The image, in his mind, of Gabrielle teaching him how to read was much clearer.
"Got it memorized yet?” Meghan asked.
He nodded. In truth, he had learned the words days before. But as his horse brought him closer and closer to the remains of what had once been his village, he could feel himself becoming increasingly on edge. It wouldn't do at all to travel that far only to forget the five little words that could make all the difference.
"We have to leave the horses here and continue by foot,” she announced just as they reached the river and its broken bridge. Their horses and those of the three other humans who had joined them were getting nervous and started refusing to advance, as though sensing what had gone on decades earlier.
Getting off their mounts, they tied them to nearby trees and crossed the river by foot. Erik cast a last glance of goodbye to his horse as he waited for the humans to cross, their movements slowed down by the cumbersome robes they wore. Somehow, it was only now sinking in that he wouldn't be back to this world.
They had left a little after sunset, something about the stars needing to be in a certain alignment. It was full night, now, and Erik was somewhat thankful for the nearly complete darkness, broken only by lightning streaking the sky. He would see enough of the battlefield as it was; he had no desire to see more than he absolutely had to. Therefore, he kept his eyes on the ground as they passed through the destroyed village. Even so, the dead were there, silent as the rest of the world was to him, but swirling around him, making their presence known with ghostly touches, and he unconsciously drew his cloak closer around him in an illusion of warmth.
They had told him in what location they would do the spell, but he still felt a shiver run down his spine as they finally reached the ruins of what had been his clan's lair. His home. Somehow, the memories were stronger, here, demanding his attention with a harshness he couldn't ignore.
Memories of helping to build the lair with the men of his village, before they had even known Gabrielle would make a Pact with them. Memories of leading her to it, the night when they had first met; she had climbed down from her horse almost as soon as they had left the village, and had walked next to him the whole way, asking questions and answering his own. Memories of waking up next to her the following night, craving blood and being offered hers. Memories of learning how to fight, how to feed, how to love. Memories of the lair being expanded even as the clan grew. Memories of finding himself in front of a closed door, one morning, and of being too proud, too hurt to open it. Memories of waiting for three days for his Sire to come back to him, in vain.
He followed the directions of the oldest woman in the group and stood in the center of the square formed by the four humans. Meghan surprised him when she moved forward and pressed a quick peck to his cheek. He caught the ‘good luck’ on her lips before she stepped back, and he managed to give her a half smile. The humans started talking, their mouths moving in silent unison. Each of them held herbs that they threw at his feet at regular intervals. The scent of them was tickling his nose and he tried to ignore the ritual, focusing instead on the storm that was tearing up the sky. It was, at the same time, a grandiose sight, and a terrible reminder of the battle Erik was going back to fight.
A few minutes and that would be it. He would have a little time to enjoy the presence of people who knew him, cared about him; just long enough to give them a proper goodbye. Then it would be over again.
As the flash of blue light enveloped him, his only regret was that Gabrielle had not changed her mind.
Chapter 17
+ Two hundred years earlier
All day long, Erik paced through the lair, angry, worried, and more determined than ever. The following night, Gabrielle would put her insane plan in motion, and there was nothing he could do to stop it, or her. She had ordered him to stop fighting her, and rebelling now would be close to suicide. He didn't know if Gabrielle cared so little about him now that she could have staked him if he disobeyed her, but he certainly didn't plan to find out.
There were other ways to rebel, however. Ways that might not be as deadly as an outright confrontation. He intended to ask Gabrielle to free him after the battle, and tradition demanded that he wait to be a Master before siring a Childe, but he had decided not to wait. Despite Gabrielle's reassurances that the demons would never reach the village she was using as bait, Erik couldn't shake off his worry. If demons did manage to approach the village, he refused to leave Catarina without defenses in front of them. And the best way he knew how to protect her was to make her a vampire; give her strength, and as near immortality as she could have.
When night fell at last, he was out of the lair before Gabrielle could give out instructions; he had been doing that a lot, in recent months, and taken to hunting on his own. He had briefly seen Catarina the previous night, and told her he would come to her by nightfall and to wait for him in her small house. She didn't know what plans he had for her, but he knew she would understand; and he hoped, with all that he was, that she would accept. Humans had a right to refuse to be turned, even if very few chose to exert it. He wasn't sure he would obey her wishes if she did not want him to sire her.
Catarina was smiling when she opened her door to him, and immediately she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. The knot in his chest loosened a little; maybe he had worried too much.
"Are you taking me out to hunt tonight?” she asked eagerly when he broke off the kiss. He had been teaching her how to fight with a short sword for a few weeks, promising her that she would soon have the occasion to try her new skills while silently hoping she wouldn't need to.
"Not tonight,” he said with a weak smile as he drew her to the bed and made her sit next to him. “I need to talk to you."
Her smile slowly vanished as he explained what would go on this night, Gabrielle's Childer retreating in front of demons to make them believe the way was easy to the core of her territory; provided that they acted as they always did, the demons would push further in the following night, and Gabrielle would then fight them with the Primal Forces’ help, if everything went as she had planned.
"If everything goes as she planned?” Catarina repeated, frowning. “What do you mean, if? Surely Mistress Gabrielle wouldn't risk this if she wasn't sure she would succeed."
A bitter smile twisted Erik's lips; had he ever been so naïve, as a human? Had he ever believed so completely in the vampires’ ability to protect the villages with which they made Pacts?
Of course he had, he admitted to himself after a short moment. And, deep down, he still did even now.
"Gabrielle is sure of herself,” he answered her question. “But I ... I always worry too much, I suppose. That's why I taught you how to fight, so you could defend yourself if the demons reach the village. And that's why I want to sire you tonight."
She laughed at that, a clear, innocent laugh that said all too clearly she thought he was joking. But as he kept looking at her, she slowly calmed down, and understood.
"You ... you really mean that?” she asked, eyes wide with shock.
"I really do."
"But ... but you're not a Master ... you can't ... can you?"
There was fear in her voice, beyond the shock. But there was also, Erik was sure of it, the hints of hope and excitement he had been wishing for.
"I can,” he assured her, squeezing her hand gently. “If you want me to."
She answered the best way he could have hoped for, by leaning toward him and pressing her lips to his before pulling back shyly.
"Will it hurt?” she asked then, slightly apprehensive.
"A little at first,” he conceded, thinking back on his own siring. “But
not for long. And then it will feel good, too."
She considered his words for a moment, and then asked, a hint of shyness tinting her words: “Will you be there when I wake up?"
He had to think about that for a few seconds; she wouldn't be rising until the next sundown, which meant that he would need to stay with her the whole time to be there when she woke. He might get in trouble with Gabrielle for not having come back to the lair for a full day right before the battle; then again, she might not even notice.
"I'll be there,” he promised. “I'll always be there for you, my Childe."
She smiled at that, and nodded once, giving him the permission he had asked for. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he drew her to him and kissed her cheek, her jaw, her chin before finally coming to her mouth. He caressed her lips with the tip of his tongue before sliding in to meet hers. He could tell how tense she was despite having agreed to be his Childe, and he tried to soothe her and make her forget her fear. She soon melted into his kiss and relaxed against him when he pulled her down on the bed next to him. She reached for the laces of his breeches but he took her hand away and held it in his, their fingers woven together. As much as he wanted her, he was too nervous to exchange more than kisses with her before he turned her. His first Childe ... the moment was special; he wondered if Gabrielle had felt the same way, when she had sired him.
He froze at that sudden thought and pulled back a little, unwilling to have his Sire intrude on a moment that was his and Catarina's only. Catarina misinterpreted his movement, and tilted her head to the side, baring her neck to him. She was trembling, he noticed; he remembered he had trembled too.