A Thousand Years Ch. 04

Vladimir's fingers were curled tight together. The ceremony was to be in two nights. What difference did it make: now or then? She'd take her prize, she would take over his kingdom, and what did it all matter to him anymore now that Melanie was gone? Vladimir's royal blue eyes shut tight, as he tried to smooth away the face that now filled his mind, the soft brown waves that framed that laughing, peach face and warm smile. Her hazel eyes, brown in the dark, and dotted with green specks in the flickering sunlight. It was all gone. Vyeila pulled at the edges of Vladimir's robe, her fingers slithering over his marble chest. Vladimir shut his eyes tighter.

"My king," Vyeila's words were like daggers at Vladimir's heart. "Mine. My kingdom." Her quiet, deadly voice broke off into the gasp of a laugh as she basked in her own triumph. She pressed her cold red lips to Vladimir's shoulders, and left a dark red stain there, a mark of her entrapped prey. Vyeila's eyes gazed admiringly over Vladimir's muscular, translucent torso, but he was already lost in his own world, the world behind his eyes where he lay with Melanie in a cave, covered with hay, days when he had found his meaning to life, when the love he'd never known had come to him like a gift of light in the darkness, and now the ache still burned deep, covered by its owner, but smoldering and wounding in the cores of his being.

"Shall I take you now?" Vyeila's voice concealed desperation, like that of a dangerous monster playing at acting the role of an innocent, little girl. She lifted her lips to slightly reveal two sharp teeth, as her horrid breath pressed closer, closer to Vladimir's cheek. She traced a finger over the ridges in Vladimir's stomach, the sharp, cut surface of his body, but she felt no response, no shudder or even recognition of her presence. It was like touching an empty vessel, or a frozen sculpture.

"Tomorrow night, then." Vyeila reluctantly slid her hands off Vladimir's shoulders and backed away from the throne, but her words hadn't even entered Vladimir's ears. As she left the room, she turned back and saw him still, sitting there motionless, his face barely recognizable in the dim room, but his fingers still curling, ever so tightly, over a lost dream he held in his palms.

After she was gone, Vladimir shuddered involuntarily at the spot where she'd pressed her lips to his shoulders. What was he anymore, now that Melanie was gone, but a pawn of his kingdom, father, future queen? And what motive did he have to fight it anymore, as there was no one to be free for, no one to come to and take away forever. His head fell forward into his palms, as he bent head down, sitting on the throne, a broken royal masterpiece of beauty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melanie and Kathry both gasped as they landed on the ground, the vampire they clutched onto having reached the edges of the palace grounds. He bowed to the Duke, and having served his duties, left the grounds. Lorenze extended a hand to Melanie, who looked a little shaky, standing in front of the scene of her most hated memory-- leaving Vlad that cold, wintry day and watching his heart shatter into pieces right in front of her. She leaned a bit on the Duke's arm, and looked down apologetically when he turned to her in concern.

"I'm fine, thanks," Mel whispered. Kathry followed behind carefully. They entered the main gates of the royal structure, and Mel combed her fingers nervously through her hair as the cold night air whipped her chestnut locks left and right.

"Hey, Mel," Kathry's bouncing red curls suddenly appeared at Melanie's side. "It's going to be okay, all right?" She peered at Mel worriedly, and Mel nodded. "And then after this is all over, we're going to go home, and everything will be fine." Kathry glared at Lorenze as she said "home," apparently not expecting this stranger to take them back ever.

They reached the large, bolted front doors of the palace, and the Duke entered with a heavy set of keys that he fished out of his pocket. Inside the walls of the ancient undead, their footsteps were loud and clumping on the cold floor, unable to glide silently without effort like the vampires did. They paused outside the door of the ceremonial chamber. Mel looked at the Duke with fear in her eyes. Had it already occurred? Was he already wedded to his dark, deadly bride? The Duke was unable to return her look, and turned to the door cautiously. He pried the creaking sides open, and they peered inside.

There was no one. The dim room reeked of a certain smell of myrhh, alcohol, and herbal grandeur. It was the scent of the royal robes, but the wearer was already gone. Kathry's eyes widened as she took in the scene around her. This had to be some setting of a princely family...but just how dangerous that family was she had no idea. She was silent, trying to take in all the information and help Melanie in her situation as best she could. The Duke led them out the chamber and down the hall. He stopped in his tracks however, and turned to both ladies, putting a finger to his lips.

"Shh, listen," his voice was muted, and they crept into the shadows behind the chamber doors. The sound of gliding cloth filtered down the hallway, and they watched as Vyeila walked into view, a bottle in her hand, and the other lifting its bony fingers to remove the cork. She lifted the bottle to her spread nostrils and took a whiff. Her wide lips smirked in satisfaction, and she continued down the hall, the moonlight barely highlighting her long black hair as it slightly fluttered in one line behind her.

"That women is pure evil," Kathry commented quietly but insightfully. The Duke looked at her curiously. "It's my woman's intuition." She shrugged, causing Lorenze's lips to twitch up in a slight smile.

"I think we should hide," Melanie told the other two. "We don't know where Vladimir is right now, and we don't want to endanger him by angering Vyeila. It's better for her not to know I'm here. Or Kathry." The Duke nodded, agreeing.

"I'm sorry, ladies, but tonight you'll have to rough it out," the Duke continued. "I'll have to situate you in the cellar, the safest place in this palace until I find where Vladimir is first."

"Hmm, lots of wine and space to sleep on the ground, sounds good to me." Kathry grinned. The Duke looked a little taken aback, but returned her smile. He waved the two women on, and they followed him as he went down the hallway and towards a set of stairs set in a corner of the palace.

They reached the musty, dark cellar, and the Duke unlocked the doors. Inside, the place reeked of opened wine, and there were two jars that had been opened, it seemed, recently. They found a little nook in the area next to the shelves, and the Duke left to get blankets and other provisions. He returned shortly, and the two girls settled down into the uncomfortable surroundings. Lorenze bid them good night and left promptly, leaving them with a set of keys to his room, in case they needed to find him urgently in the night and could do so secretively.

Both girls tried to go to sleep, but Melanie was too worried, and Kathry was eyeing the wine jars with, it seemed, no idea of sleep in mind anytime soon. Melanie forced herself to lay down, and get the rest necessary for the long day ahead tomorrow. As she counted sheep in her head, she slowly drifted off on the wings of sleep. Kathry, however, decided to taste the open bottle of merlot by her head. While she was here, she might as well have fun, right? And didn't they say that a little bit of wine was good for the heart...

An hour later, a slightly drunk Kathry, keys in hand, began to wonder what was outside these halls. No one had explained anything clearly to her yet, and her fuzzy mind figured it would be quite safe to walk out into the hallways and ask Lorenze herself. After all, it seemed that this was some sort of Gothic ruins, the type that was a benchmark of many tourist vacations. And that raven-headed woman, probably a tour guide or something, who had to dress in the style of the ancient times, so she should be just fine venturing out by herself. Kathry bumbled and tripped her way up the stairs and out into the hallways, jingling the keys in her hands. She remembered the Duke's room was on the right, and fumbling, inserted the keys into the keyhole. As the door clicked open, she saw a startled Lorenze sitting at his desk drawer writing suddenly whirl around to face her.

With a slightly amused, but surprised expression, Lorenze rose quickly, and led Kathry over, closing the door quickly before anyone should come down the halls and see the redheaded newcomer. The Duke let Kathry take over his bed, which she jumped into with glee, in her fuzzy mind state viewing it as a bed of clouds. She rolled around on the pillows, and the Duke, with a smile on his lips, left the room, closing the door as he left, to sleep in the empty room next door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melanie awoke when she heard a scratching on the door to the cellar. She pulled the blankets tight around her and hoped it wasn't Vyeila. Then, she noticed that Kathry was no longer by her side. Mel shifted out of her blankets gingerly as the door opened further. In the dark, she couldn't see the person but quiet footsteps glided into the room. There was the descent of swift feet down the stairs, and then a sudden wash of light as a lit candle held by a long arm entered the room.

She stared up, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as Vladimir's face was suddenly just a few feet away from hers. Her hazel eyes gazed up into his cold blue orbs, as she feared that he would look back into hers with hate and pain. Mel didn't know if she could take seeing his face filled with the deepest disgust for what she had done to his emotions. But the face that gazed back at her held no flickers of emotion.

Vladimir's features were as cold and smooth as a washed chalkboard, and he stood up straight again after having bent to see who was sitting in the dark corner of the cellar.

"What brings you here, Melanie?" Vlad's voice was cool, collected, and not at all angry. Melanie gazed up at him speechlessly. There was no sign of any meaning in Vladimir's voice. She looked over him carefully; he didn't seem hurt or in danger in any way. Perhaps the Duke's warning had been exaggerated. After all, Vyeila may be an unpleasant woman, but why would she want to harm her own fiancee, the key to her future status? It made no sense. Melanie wondered if Vlad was intentionally playing his feelings off, not wanting to let her know how much he had been hurt, or if he had truly gotten over her, truly decided to let go and forget. If that was the case, then she shouldn't tamper with his emotions. She would have to play along, to act as cool and careless as he.

As soon as she made sure he was safe, and that Vyeila had no evil intentions, besides being Vlad's bride, then Mel would return home. After all, Vlad and her were impossible, for them to be together was to endanger the future and security of both. Furthermore, in the depths of her heart, Mel didn't want to be the reason that Vlad would fight with his royal family, would leave behind all the wealth and fortune that he was born into, the privileges of the royal bloodline. She didn't want to be the reason for his downfall, a burden that could benefit him in no way, but harm him in many. All this Mel thought in the span of three minutes, and then she turned her eyes to Vlad decidedly, without betraying her inner yearning on her face. Her own straight, unmoving features stared back at him.

"I came here with Lorenze," Mel came up with an excuse. "He told me he needed me to tell him about the conditions in my homelands in person, since he's planning on doing some travelling."

"Quite reasonably," Vladimir nodded. "Might I find you some better accommodations for the night, then? I presume you are busy, and won't be able to stay the whole week?" Vladimir let the candlelight drift gently over the room, and looked at the pile of blankets that Mel slept in with a shrug.

"Ah, yes, well, I'm actually just going to stay here, thanks," Mel stammered, not wanting to leave the hall and see Vyeila in this most unfortunate circumstance whatsoever. "The marble furniture in the rooms are too cold for me." She didn't mention that the marble based bed hadn't been cold when Vlad had lay in it with her, in the days that now seemed so, so long ago.

"I see," Vlad nodded again. Without any further words, he bid her goodnight, and left her the candle for lighting. Then, he exited the room, and Mel watched his retreating footsteps with an odd sense of loss. It was true then, that she had damaged him beyond repair, he couldn't even muster up the tiniest hint of the old flame that she had felt rekindling in her own body, but it apparently had long stopped affecting him. The door to the cellar closed with a creak and groan, and Mel dove into her blankets, covering her face in the folds. Vladimir was still the same Vladimir. His silver-blonde mane still trailed behind his elegant, tall face, and his dark blue eyes contained the same stormy seas that Mel had fallen for, deeply, irrevocably. Staring at his strong, tall figure, she remembered tracing her fingers softly over the planes of his chest, and leaning against him, head under his chin, her mahogany waves cresting out over his marble torso. But now, the Vladimir she saw, though dressed in the same dark robe, only with a red royal draping over it, was never going to be hers again.

The tears fell like rain over Mel's cheeks, even as she suppressed her sobs into the soft lining of the blanket. She felt a lump in her throat, and had to take a deep breath to fight the unpleasant sinking feeling in her stomach. She deserved it though. Wasn't this what Vladimir had felt when she had all but abandoned him and went home? Except now he was nearby, and she had to keep repeating to herself that he was gone to keep herself from bounding up the stairs and back into his arms. Those arms would no longer be open, if she did face him again, he most likely wouldn't let her affect him again, wouldn't open himself to that vulnerability and pain one more time. She could imagine standing in front of him, with her arms outstretched and her eyes pleading, could imagine the split second it would take to cross the room to wrap both arms around him. But he wouldn't budge; he would be as cold and hard as the stone walls that surrounded them, and he would look back at her, those cool blue eyes as merciless as the unending sea.

She wouldn't take that risk of hurting herself, of widening the wound that now throbbed inside her. Melanie could feel the abyss inside begin to widen, could see herself staring into her own hopeless future. She wrapped the blanket tightly around her head, and stared at the darkness that the sheets she was muffled in created. For one second, she tried to put it all out of her mind, to let herself wallow in the emptiness. It was going to be okay. She would deal. Taking a deep breath, Mel opened the blanket again, and wrapped the layers around herself, settling back to attempt to return to sleep, the only place where the bittersweet ache would disappear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning sun didn't reach the depths of the cellar, but the Duke had woken up early and prepared a tea in the veranda on the edges of the forest that had been the vestiges of when earlier royal families had resided in the grounds, before the Count and his dark lords had taken over. He was now on his way to find Vladimir. Kathry had passed out in the bed, and the Duke didn't disturb her, leaving only a note for her to stay in her room, and that there was food prepared on the desk drawer for her when she woke. He hoped Kathry would note the danger of the situation, and do as advised.

Lorenze stepped out into the hallway and strode briskly down the hall. He paused outside Vladimir's door and wondered how he should phrase the meeting. Surely, Vladimir was still hurt by Melanie's decision, but how would he react to finding out that Melanie was in the castle? The Duke knocked on the door, and waited for Vlad's quiet footsteps. The door opened, and Vladimir appeared, smiling courteously.

"Morning, my dear friend, did you sleep well?" Vladimir's tone was even and calm, without any hint of depression or inner turmoil. Lorenze wondered if he had escaped the dark spell he had been in for so long.

"Yes, you too, I hope." Lorenze replied customarily. "Listen, Vladimir, I have some good news, and bad news." He glanced at Vlad anxiously, but the latter made no response. "It's about Melanie. She's here, and I thought the best occasion for you two to see each other again, after that, uh, the past incident, is in a secluded gathering at the veranda, the one right by forest grounds. I've prepared some tea and dessert, and you can walk over right now. I'll come with Melanie."

"Melanie?" Vladimir echoed. "Oh, yes, she's in the cellar. I left her a candle. I hope she didn't sleep too uncomfortably, but she seemed fine. Well, then, I'll see you at the veranda." With a closed smile, he left the room, and headed out towards the forest grounds. The Duke stared after him questioningly. He had left Melanie in the cellar with a candle? Could it be that Vladimir no longer had any feelings for his past love, that he no longer even cared what she did or where she went? The Duke couldn't believe it. Well, it wasn't entirely impossible. Vladimir had been in a dark and stormy mood after Melanie left, and now that he seemed to be recovered, it's quite possible that the recovery had involved a change of heart, a letting go that could never be replaced. The Duke shook his head. This would be difficult. But now that he had set the event in process, he would have to get Melanie anyways. He headed off towards the cellar.

Everyone sat around the limestone table, which had been tarnished with the passage of time. There was elegant silverware on the tableware, which the Duke had brought from his home in the valley kingdom nearby. He poured some tea into cups for everyone and sat down. Lorenze coughed to break the awkward silence, but Vladimir just glanced at him reflexively, and then stared back into space, his mind obviously far away from the scene. Melanie, meanwhile, was clutching the apple tart in her hands tightly, and staring down at it, unwilling to subject herself to the cool, careless look in Vladimir's eyes.

"So, I guess we should tell Vyeila, then," the Duke looked at Vladimir. Vladimir looked back with a smile.

"Tell her what?" Vlad looked genuinely confused.

"That the marriage ceremony is off," the Duke continued, as if the fact were obvious. "I mean, now that," he looked towards Melanie.

"No, why would it be off?" Melanie now piped up, and lifted her head slowly, her brown tresses falling gently off her shoulder.

"Well, I," The Duke looked left to right, from Vladimir to Melanie, speechless.

"My fiancee should be preparing for the ritual today, I think," Vladimir commented, almost as if it were a natural, accepted fact. "I should get back soon to help her."

"Yes," Mel added meekly. She looked up sideways to catch Vladimir's eye, but he didn't even seem to notice her furtive glance. He had a slight smile on his lips, as if he found the conversation very pleasant and common, as if they were a bunch of friends discussing the weather. Mel felt her heart throb suddenly in a sharp pang.

"Vladimir, are you crazy, fellow?" The Duke suddenly burst out. "With Vyeila? You've accepted this?"

"Accepted?" Vladimir tilted his head to the side, his blue eyes wondering. "I think it should be a good ceremony. We are, after all, a good match, in name and tradition." Mel swallowed, these were her exact thoughts. She could never measure up to Vyeila in terms of wealth, status, or even that air of royalty. If Vlad thought this too, then there was no way he would ever return to Melanie again. Without being able to help it, she looked up at him carefully, trying to memorize the structured line of his face, the exact color of his eyes, his sculpted figure, before it would all be too soon and she would have to leave again.