Forever Again Ch. 01

"Yes my Mistress." The handmaidens said as one. Lapis could only moan uncontrollable as she slowly drowned in a roiling sea of ecstasy.

Cleopatra lifted her head and opened her mouth wide, showing her two gleaming fangs, the price of eternal life and eternal beauty. Her goddess had indeed demanded a high price for eternity. Once her transformation was complete, Cleopatra could never again see the sunlight. She was doomed to an existence of living off mortals, devouring their souls in the darkness, drinking their life blood to sustain herself. But the rewards had also been high, eternal life, eternal beauty, inhuman strength and dominion over any mortal she wished. Such as the poor, pathetic criminal who lay writhing under her touch.

With a hiss she sank her fangs deep into the woman's breast and devoured her soul even as the woman shrieked in rapture as the most intense climax she had ever experienced ripped through her body, consuming her mind and shattering her soul.

At the taste of the woman's blood, Cleopatra cried out in her own climax as an unearthly delight surged through her body. She could feel, actually taste Lapis's physical pleasure even as her soul was consumed.

The two handmaidens also cried out in their own bliss, sharing their Mistress pleasure through the intimate bond they held with her.

Cleopatra, veiled in a haze of pure rapture, let out a loud moan of satisfaction as the last of the woman's soul was consumed and mingled with her own. She could still feel the hot rush of the woman's final moments, an eternal climax that Cleopatra now held inside her. The feeling was beyond anything she had ever even dreamed. And there would be many more nights like this to come, an eternity of nights, an eternity of ecstasy.

* * *

Cleopatra wrapped the rough robes about herself and gave both Iras and Charmion a final kiss on the lips. "You have done your parts well my pets."

"Yes, my Mistress." Said the young women in unison.

She had tried to convince them many times to accompany her but they had steadfastly refused, insisting that they must stay to complete the ruse and ensure her safe escape. Their devotion to her was total and Cleopatra had finally come to realize that arguing with them would not change their minds and only serve to insult their devotion. She had finally capitulated and allowed them to sacrifice themselves for her.

She had already bitten both of them, taken a bit of their life, kept a bit of their souls with her, but she could not take both of them completely so soon after Lapis. They had known this and though she knew they would have preferred to be taken by their Mistress, they gladly accepted their end. The poison they had both already taken at their own insistence was flowing through their veins. The poison acted quickly and was blessedly painless. As she spoke, Iras sagged against the foot of the bed, draped over the inert body of Lapis. Cleopatra looked down at the dead peasant woman. A criminal who in death, had become a queen.

From the bathing room where it had been secreted two nights prior, Cleopatra carried a woven reed basket and placed it at the feet of her handmaidens. Moving carefully, she removed the cover from the basket and stepped back. She watched as the dark, serpentine shape of an asp raised its head up over the lip of the basket.

Charmion smiled weakly. "Go my Lady, for time is short."

With a final glance, Cleopatra opened the door and slipped out of the room. The guards were just waking up and glancing around groggily but she was able to slip past them with ease. She wound her way through the palace, unnoticed or unheeded dressed as she was in the robes of one of the palace staff.

She made her way out through the servants' quarters and finally out of the palace into a back alley filled with rubbish and debris. A figure stood there waiting for her holding the reigns of two fine white horses.

As she approached the figure stepped into the light spilling from the open door and Cleopatra stopped, gazing with rapture.

The face was that of a woman, pale and beautiful with long, golden hair and flashing black eyes. She was tall and comely with lusciously curved hips and full breasts, ripe with her young womanhood. "Mistress." The young woman breathed.

"Yes my Valamera, I have made it back to you." Cleopatra said warmly.

"Thank Isis. I had worried for you so since you were captured. What of Iras and Charmion?" The girl asked.

"They stayed." She answered simply, trying to hide the pain in her voice.

Valamera nodded in understanding, "Then they gave their life in the service of their Mistress, no death could be more glorious. Their souls will rejoice."

At Valamera's words Cleopatra felt the ghost of a smile cross her lips at just how completely she had captivated the beautiful young woman.

Valamera's appearance was completely unlike any woman Cleopatra, or indeed almost anyone else had ever seen in Egypt before. Born the daughter of a wealthy and powerful merchant house, Valamea's father was a wealthy and influential Roman noble of more than modest ambition. However, despite her father's noble family, her mother had not been born a Roman. In fact she had been a commoner from the far north that her father had met while he had been a soldier in one of Cesar's great campaigns. Entranced by the woman's golden hair and black eyes, her father had taken her back to Rome with him, first as a slave, and later as his wife. That marriage had produced several sons and daughters, the youngest of which was Valamera.

Cleopatra had first met Valamera many years ago while she was in Rome with Caesar at a grand banquet. She had immediately been taken by the young girl's striking eyes and lustrous hair. They had spoken at length that evening and had met many times again over the following weeks, deepening their friendship. When Caesar had been killed by the conspirators, Cleopatra decided it would be best for her to return home to Alexandria. She had arranged to have the young woman accompany her. Valamera's father, sensing the opportunity to further increase his influence and wealth, had eagerly accepted the request and arranged for his daughter's journey.

In the following years, Cleopatra had slowly, gently seduced the beautiful young woman a little at a time until finally, she had made the girl hers. Then, after she had struck her bargain with the Goddess Isis, Cleopatra had used her newfound powers to increase her hold over the girl.

But in the process of possessing Valamera, Cleopatra had discovered something she hadn't expected or planned for. While she had indeed enthralled Valamera utterly, Valamera had in turn enthralled her just as completely. Cleopatra had become obsessed with the beautiful young Roman maiden and wished only to be with her at all times. She cherished every minute spent with the young woman and never grew tired of her company. Everything about Valamera seemed to entice and enchant her, from the quirk of her smile to her soft, demure laugh; from the curve of her neck to the luster of her deep, black eyes. Her pulse quickened as she thought too of the way she could lose herself for hours or even days enjoying the pleasures of her supple young body.

But it was not only the young woman's body that enticed Cleopatra. In fact it was the girl's mind that she found most enthralling. Unlike so many Roman women that she had met, this girl was well educated for her station, owing not to her father who was a traditional Roman believing that a woman should only be knowledgeable about running a household, but more to her own inquisitiveness and perhaps to her mother. The girl searched out information and absorbed it like a sponge. She enjoyed talking with travelers and learning of distant lands. She sat for hours watching the stonemasons work, learning something of their craft. She talked with the rug merchants, learning what made one weave superior to another. At night she could be found on the palace roof charting the stars or simply studying the moon. By day she was down at the docks seeing what had been brought in by the fishermen or down in the fields watching the men dig new irrigation ditches.

Valamera was a woman who wanted to understand how the world around her worked and was not shy in seeking out that knowledge. Cleopatra found her drive and intelligence to be powerfully enthralling and the desire to be with her was becoming ever more irresistible the more time they spent together.

In some way that Cleopatra didn't understand, the two of them had become bonded to each other, two parts of a whole, two bodies sharing one soul. She sometimes wondered if it was some trick that Isis played on her as another price of the bargain. Or perhaps not, perhaps it was fate.

Now that her power was fully manifest, Cleopatra intended to take Valamera at the first opportunity and share her Goddesses gift with her as well. They would have eternity to share.

"Come my Queen, we must leave, the sun will be up soon."

They rode off together down to the dockyard and up to a small, single masted sailing ship moored alongside a decrepit old pier. Once they were aboard the aging cargo hauler it immediately set sail and headed north into the sea.

* * *

Four days passed slowly as the small ship crawled across the vast sea. Cleopatra was sitting on the deck with Valamera at her side. She was wrapped in a heavy shawl with a hood that covered her almost completely as protection against the suns deadly rays but it was hardly necessary today.

Over the last few hours the clouds which had been thin and wispy for their entire journey so far, had thickened and lowered. They now hung across the sky from horizon to horizon, heavy and menacing, pregnant with rain. As ominous as the sky overhead was, it was the western horizon that concerned them more. Spanning the entire western horizon was nothing but a wall of roiling black clouds, occasionally illuminated from within by flashes of lightning.

"Storm is coming in fast." Said the Captain, a big Spaniard with sandy hair. He spoke passing latin but with a thick provincial accent. "Hopefully we'll make port before it strikes. We're getting very close now." He glanced to the west and then up to the sails. He pursed his lips and tapped his fingers on the railings for several moments before speaking again. When he did it was in a low voice so that only the Cleopatra and Valamera could hear. "It's going to be a bad one my lady."

"I know Captain. I've sailed many times before." She smiled. "Fear not, I have come much too far for the Gods to thwart me now."

"I hope you are correct my Queen, for I fear we will need the hand of the Gods today."

They still hadn't made port four hours later when the tempest's full fury struck. Howling winds and towering waved pounded the small ship, tossing it about the sea like a child's toy. The rigging sang in the wind and the hull groaned under the constant pounding. Sheets of driving rain slashed at the crew as they struggled to keep the small vessel on course.

Valamera and Cleaoptra huddled together by the base of the mast, trying to avoid being thrown about and also keeping out of the crew's way. The small ship had no proper cabin to seek refuge in and the small canopy that the crew used as protection against the elements had long ago been torn away by the storm's fury. The cargo hold under the decks where they had been sleeping and sheltering from the sun was now too sloshing with knee deep water in addition to cargo that had broken free from its tethers and was now floating and shifting about dangerously with the ships wild movements. Already one crewmember had been grievously injured while trying to restrain the shifting cargo while another had been lost overboard.

"My Queen, I believe we will not live though this!" Yelled Valamera over the wind.

"We have to!" Shouted Cleopatra as she clung to a stanchion. "I've come too far for it to end now!"

"Land!" A voice shouted.

Both women turned and looked forward. Over the curved bow a dark wall loomed before the small ship.

"Port!" Cried the Captain. "Turn! Turn damn you, TURN!"

But it was far too late. Valamera grabbed a hold of Cleopatra and said in her ear, "I fear it ends now. I love you for all time Mistress."

"And I you." Cleopatra said as the air was filled with a blinding sheet of spray and the crunching sound of tortured wood.

The small ship lurched and rolled onto its side throwing them into the churning water. In the tumult, Valamera was torn from Cleopatra's grip and swept away.

"Valamera!" She screamed when she could get her head above the water. "Valamera!"

But the only reply was the pounding of the waves over her. All traces of the ship, crew and passengers were gone.

A thundering roar filled her ears and she turned just in time to see the rock face of the cliff looming before her... then nothing.

* * *

Chapter One

Forbidden Dreams

Austria, 1558

With a strangled gasp, Vala Strauss sat bolt upright in bed. Sweat prickled her skin in the cool air and her heart hammered at her ribs as she looked wildly around the darkened room. The straw mattress crackled under her as she shifted about nervously for a few moments, trying to get her bearings. Gradually her eyes picked out the familiar shapes of the small, second floor bedroom. She sighed and rubbed her face, surprised at the amount of sweat on her brow. Turning, she put her feet on the rough wood floor but remained sitting on the edge of the bed she shared with her two younger sisters.

The straw mattress rustled. "What's the matter Vala?" Her youngest sister Adeline mumbled sleepily.

In the darkness Vala couldn't see Adeline's face but she could picture the fourteen year old girl's curly brown hair and big innocent hazel eyes staring back at her sleepily.

"Nothing Sweetie. I just had a dream. Go back to sleep."

A yawn followed by, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, now get some rest." Vala soothed her.

"Ok." The girl murmured as she lay her head back down and drifted back to sleep.

Vala looked to the far side of the bed to where her other sister, sixteen year old Odila, lay. She couldn't make out anything past a vague lump under the blankets but she could tell that Odila didn't stir in the slightest. Nothing short of a war in the room would wake her up once she was asleep.

Vala got up and padded silently to the room's one small window. She pulled back the curtains and gazed out at the darkened countryside. It was cloudy and the waning quarter moon didn't provide much light. She could just barely make out the vague shapes of the barn and cowshed only a few dozen paces away from the house.

Her warm breath fogged the glass of the window as she leaned closer, straining her eyes to see more. She looked to where she knew the road lead past her family's farm and down the hill to the village but she couldn't see anything. For a brief instant she thought she could see the briefest glimpse of light from a candle or lantern in the direction of the village but then it was gone again and there was nothing.

Almost involuntarily her mind strayed back to her dream. Her thoughts touched on it tentatively, like one would probe a hurting tooth, gently, knowing what's going to happen but unable to resist trying it anyway. She had lost track of how many times she had this particular dream, or any of the others that while different, sometime wildly so, were also strangely similar in certain ways. She couldn't recall exactly the first time but it had been about the time of her eighteenth birthday, almost a year ago.

She didn't have to think hard to recall the details of the dreams. Every image was burned into her mind as if she'd actually lived through it all. Unlike many dreams, these didn't seem to fade with the morning sun. They remained, vivid and frightening with their intensity.

She shivered again at the images and tried to push them from her mind but they refused to go. She tried to think of other things but every line of thought eventually lead back to the dreams and she gave up.

With a shake of her head she got up and headed down the narrow, steep staircase to the ground floor of the farmhouse. The main room was dark and the fire in the hearth was burned down to a pile of dimly glowing embers. She picked up a couple small logs and placed them onto the fire, blowing it a little to fan the embers. After a minute one of the logs caught and the small tongue of flame spread a soft glow around the room.

Vala wrapped a heavy quilt about her shoulders and sat in her father's chair in front of the fire, watching the dancing flame, trying to empty her mind.

Several minutes later a creak from across the room drew her attention. Her father stood in the door to his bedroom and looked at her sleepily but with a bit of concern.

"What's wrong Vala?" He asked in his deep, sonorous voice.

"Nothing Papa. I just... I couldn't sleep."

His brow furrowed, "The dreams again?"

Vala looked back to the fire, unwilling to meet his gaze. It had been impossible to keep her nocturnal problems a secret for long but so far she had managed to keep the true nature of the dreams from everyone. So far she had only related limited details of the dreams and none of them had been in the least bit scandalous, but as time went on it was becoming harder and harder to maintain her composure when the topic of her restless nights came up. "Yes Papa."

The big man sighed and walked over. He grabbed the big bench he had carved for Vala's mother years ago and dragged it closer to the chair where Vala sat. As he sat, he placed one huge hand on Vala's knee and squeezed it gently. "I wish I knew about these things. Your mother would know what they meant I'm sure but I... I'm just a simple man I'm afraid."

Vala looked to the big, rough hand on her knee and then up to her father's weather worn face. Most of the time his eyes were bright and cheerful but occasionally, usually when the topic of Vala's mother came up, the light in them seemed to fade.

"You're very far from a simple man Papa. And anyway, it's nothing I'm sure. They'll go away on their own soon." She patted her father's hand and looked up into the big man's eyes. She was surprised to see them wet with tears.

She smiled a little then said softly, "I miss her too."

"I know you do. We all do." said her father, his voice choking with emotion as it often did when talking about his wife.

Vala's mother, whose name had been Rica, had died fourteen years ago, a short while after Adeline had been born. Adeline's birth had been difficult and Rica had never fully recovered. About a month after the birth, Rica had fallen ill with a fever. She had lain in bed for several days resting and at last seemed to be getting better. But on the fifth day of her mother's illness Vala had come into the bedroom to find her father weeping at the side of the bed, holding her mother's hand.

Vala, only five at the time, still remembered the look of profound peace on her mother's beautiful face as she lay in her bed. It had been the peace of death.

Vala's eye strayed to the portrait of her mother that hung over the fireplace as she called the distant memories back.

Her mother had been a very beautiful woman in every sense of the word. Tall and slender with pale skin, long silky blond hair and pale blue eyes. She had a warm, inviting smile that showed her caring personality. But Rica had been more than just a pretty face; she had been a woman of substance as well.

The only daughter of a successful merchant, Rica had been well educated for a woman of her station and spoke three languages. In her youth she had traveled with her father, seen many lands and met many noble people. By chance Rica had met Vala's father during the war and been enchanted with the big, rough soldier. After the war he had come back and courted her for months. Rica's beauty had made her the object of many men's affections and she had dozens suitors. Several of them had even been sons of wealthy, powerful men but Rica had seen something in Vala's father that made her choose him instead.