OSVP 40

Brahms was drenched in blood, the precious liquid soaking into his clothes along with the splattered remains of less appetizing things. To his right stood a einherjar, some human soul whose legs trembled badly. The einherjar’s hands were also unsteady, sword shaking badly in his grip. He not only knew what the vampire King was capable of, he had witnessed it first hand. Einherjar had been torn apart, Brahms’ claws knowing no more mercy to those that had turned their back on his offer of salvation. It was the same for his vampires, the many men and women who made this island their home turning absolutely ruthless as they worked to kill off those who had dared to invade this land.

Brahms’ vampires were especially vicious on this day. They had seen how the Valkyrie and their einherjar had turned up their noses on the chance Brahms had given them. How they had refused to grasp hold of the only opportunity that would ensure their continued survival, the Valkyries all but making a mockery of the truce the vampires’ King had offered them. A truce that hadn’t been popular among many of his own people, his vampires not understanding why any leniency would be shown to the enemy. Especially an enemy that had brought the fight to the vampire’s only home, endangering not only their lives, but their one place of belonging.

The vampires were a persecuted race. Unlike the humans that made Midgard their home, or the giants that lay claim to Jotunheim, Brahms people only had their island. It wasn’t even that big of an island, the land mass just barely capable of sustaining several hundred vampires at once. Unfortunately for the vampires, they existed in the thousands, many of the race forced to spend the entirety of their eternity waging war up in the heavens.

It was a slap in the face that the Valkyrie would not only come to the vampire’s island, but wage war on it’s grounds. It was an insult, and one that couldn’t go unpunished. Brahms knew that, just as he knew how foolish his actions would seem in trying to spare the Valkyrie. It left him with much explaining to do, his judgment being called into question yet again. But now was not the time for his detractors to call into doubt his right to be King. No, now was the time when both friend and foe to Brahms’ crown united and worked together, to rid their home of this blight of Valkyrie.

It wasn’t a quick process. The Valkyrie alone were a formidable opponent, each individual maiden worthy of several dozen soldiers alone. They had the strength and speed of Gods, and the wisdom of the ages. They had centuries worth of fighting and strategy to call upon, and not a single Valkyrie who had been sent to the vampire’s island, was a novice when it came to dealing with the undead. Unfortunately for the Valkyrie and their einherjar, there was a large amount of elder vampires currently in residence on the island.

Brahms refused to dwell on the disaster it would have been, had there only been fledglings residing on the island. Refused to think of the slaughter that would have ensued. Instead he kept focused on the battle at hand, his fangs and claws busy tearing apart any who came in reach. That included the einherjar who cowered before him, the man’s eyes almost lost to the white of fear. His courage was faltering, and he wasn’t the only one. Other einherjar were panicking, some attempting to retreat from the battlefield as one by one the Valkyries were slain.

Brahms himself had killed enough of the battle maidens to have grown bloated off their blood if he had so chosen. But ever conscious of the eyes upon him, Brahms had made the magnanimous decision to share the Valkyries’ blood with others of his race. The fact that he didn’t take all that blood for himself, would serve to heighten his image, vampires quick to forgive some of his more foolish decisions. But never forget, Brahms snarling as his claws tore open the einherjar’s chest. The killing was brutal, but Brahms never once held back. He had seen what little his mercy had gotten him, the Valkyries all but spitting in his face, and his own people appalled.

He couldn’t change the past, nor did he want to when it came to the reason why the Valkyries had come to the island. His attacks didn’t gentle as he recalled the woman who still lay sleeping inside his bed chamber. If anything, he became even more agitated, Brahms wanting to return to Silmeria’s side. But the battle kept him away, kept him from doing what he really wanted in the moment. His restless desires would have him stand watch over Silmeria, spend every waking moment keeping guard over her and her alone. But Brahms was not a free agent, but a King. And with that crown came the responsibilities of a whole race of people. As much as he wanted to pamper and dote on his bride, he had to take care of the threat to his people first.

How many hours more would he spend on what was considered the front lawn of his castle? How many more would die at his hands? The numbers would continue to dwindle down, the Asgardians suffering far more losses than the vampires this day. It didn’t mean his own people didn’t die or get injured. There was many vampires who were hurt, their blood mingling with that of their enemies. Sometimes those wounds slowed the vampires down, but never did his people stop fighting. If anything they became more vicious, their intent to wound, to cripple, to kill.

There would not be many left alive of the Valkyrie hunting party by the end. Even those few einherjar who had been spared from a killing blow, would soon find their life ended at the fangs of hungry vampires. The vampires wouldn’t show no care or tender mercy to the captured einherjar, the men and women feeding eagerly, three, sometimes four vampires to a single person.

Even with the sharing, there wasn’t enough blood for all his vampires to feed. Many would have to seek elsewhere for the blood they needed, those able to, teleporting off of the island while those who suffered the worst of the injuries, remaining to feast on the prisoners. When every drop was drained out of the prisoners’ bodies, the corpses would be given to the monsters of the island. The undead would at last have their feast, greedily gobbling down every bite and leaving nothing but bones behind.

The feasting couldn’t completely appease his people, but it went a long way towards improving their moods. Vampires and their meals were scattered about the surrounding area, the screams of the einherjar slowly being muffled as those souls gave in to the oblivion that awaited them. His undead monsters waited impatiently at the edge of the forest, watching with hungry gazes.

Brahms himself was back on the ramparts of the castle, his watchful eyes studying the carnage below him. His still wet claws flexed, the vampire King finding it hard to calm down. It was not just the battle that had his energy so stirred, nor that of the chastising that would follow. In the moment he cared little for what his enemies would say, what they would find fault with of his actions this day. His thoughts were on Silmeria, Brahms waiting, wondering when and if she would wake up. That he could even doubt her awakening made him cringe, but it had been two days since the sun had forced her to sleep. Two days and one night, the former Goddess sleeping through that evening completely.

It worried Brahms, the vampire wondering if perhaps he had made a mistake. His blood was powerful, having had several millennia to refine itself. Could a fledgling, even one as strong as Silmeria had proven to be, handle such a drink? He didn’t know. It had been centuries if not millennia since he had last allowed anyone to drink from his own vein. Perhaps his blood was no longer a viable drink, perhaps he had evolved to the point it would poison another vampire, overwhelming and shutting down their systems. Brahms could not say for sure, only going by what he had seen, Silmeria staying dead even with the stars blanketing the night sky.

It pained him to even think like this. To worry and wonder if the act that he had longed for, had instead brought about Silmeria’s end. His claws curled, sharp tips digging into the palms of his hands. With the battle ended, there was little to do except think. To worry and let numerous fears form in his mind. But there was one thing he didn’t think about. One path he refused to go down. Even as memories lingered in the wings, waiting for the chance to sweep him away into a recollection of pain and misery. It was a recollection he did not want, Brahms finding the experience once had been misery enough. And yet that misery, and the need for vengeance, had been the propelling force that kept Brahms moving. The force that had allowed Brahms to rise up from nothing, time and time again, until at last he had his own empire.

Brahms well new that empires could come and go, that kingdoms could crumble. Sometimes it took an army to destroy one, other times a single being. More vampires than he would have cared to count, considered Silmeria that destroying being. And if not her, then Brahms himself! And all because of that which he had set into motion by going after Silmeria.

It left Brahms with much to atone for. His detractors would most likely gain even more vampires to ally with, and all because Brahms had shaken their faith in him. He couldn’t simply kill off those most vocal against him, for that would reduce their numbers of elders by a drastic amount. Now more than ever, they needed the elders, needed them to continue making fledglings to bolster the size of their armies up in the heavens. For once where his crown was concerned, force wasn’t the answer. Brahms had to be diplomatic, and he feared his skills as such had long since rusted from disuse.

Certainly no one would think him a diplomat in these moments, Brahms who was an imposing figure under normal circumstances, now even more so covered in the blood and gore of his enemies. He stood like a stone giant, glowering down from atop his perch on top the castle ramparts. Anyone who looked his way, could tell in an instant he was agitated. They might not know the reasons behind that agitation, but they knew enough to look away. Few if any would approach him, conscious that his claws were out, Brahms visibly showing how eager he was to continue to fight.

The sound of footsteps on the stone blocks that lined the pathway between the castle towers, had Brahms tensing. He did not fear a sudden attack, not with the one approaching him making so much noise. But he did worry for the news that approaching vampire was bringing him. Brahms would not turn to look the vampire’s way, continuing to stare down at his vampires, who were now looting the corpses of the dead for weapons and any valuables they might have carried.

“What is it, Gideon?” Even with the heavy smell of blood clinging to the older looking man, Brahms had been able to pick up on Gideon’s scent. There was a rustle of clothing behind him, the vampire with the salt and pepper colored hair doing the slightest of bows.

“We’ve finished assessing the damages.” Gideon told him. “The castle has weathered worse from the elements than the attacks of today. We will not have to spend much time on repairs, thankfully.”

“And the death tally?” Brahms grumbled. “How many of our people did we lose today?” Even one death would be intolerable, but Brahms was no fool. A battle like the one that had been fought on this island, was bound to have casualties on both sides.

“We’re still actively searching for several notable figures.” Gideon said, tone apologetic. “But as it stands, of the thirty-five that were slain, they were mostly fledglings, still too new to their powers.”

“Mostly?” inquired Brahms with a sharp emphasis on the word.

“Ah…” Now his tone was bland. “It appears at least one of your detractors was killed during the fighting. An elder by the name of Rodoliant.”

Brahms remember Rodoliant well, the man having been part of the group who sought to take the crown. Rodoliant himself had had no true aspirations to lead, the man several centuries too young to successfully rule over the vampire kingdom. But he had been pushing for another, helping to groom that vampire into a king Brahms’ enemies could all get under. Unfortunately, the name of that upstart wanna be, had never been discovered. Not even by Gideon, who worked tirelessly to protect Brahms’ crown.

“There are two others missing.” Gideon continued when it became apparent Brahms was not going to speak. “No sign of their corpses.”

“Do you think they ran?” Brahms asked, fighting not to gnash his teeth in anger.

“It seems that way…”

“Cowards.” Brahms spit out. There could be no excuse for abandoning their home. When it came to the elders and the power they wielded, even the absence of one could have changed the fate of the vampires. Brahms thought of the thirty-five said to have been killed, and felt that the numbers might have been less if the two elders hadn’t run away.

“If they dare return…” Brahms began, but it was Gideon who finished the thought.

“They will be charged with treason, and summarily executed for their crime.”

“Spread the word.” Brahms ordered. “Our people must be made aware that such an act will not be tolerated. Especially by elders who should know better.”

“Of course.” But Gideon didn’t immediately leave, instead lingering by Brahms side. It didn’t take much skill or instinct to know the salt and pepper haired vampire had more on his mind, concerns he felt Brahms had to hear, regardless of his king’s desire to seethe alone.

“What?” It was more anger than Brahms wanted to voice, but fortunately Gideon knew him well enough to not take offense at that growl.

“The…” An actual hesitation from Gideon, as though the man did not know what word to use. “Your bride’s sister, and her man….”

“What about them?” Neither man tried to lower their voice, knowing there was little they could do if the vampires below them chose to eavesdrop. There was both benefit and hindrance in the sharp hearing of a vampire, making it difficult at times to maintain one’s privacy on the island. There was of course rooms that could be enchanted to subdue the travel of sound, but such spells were costly, the mages prone to respond to the highest bidder. Brahms felt certain that if anything Gideon had to say was requiring true discretion, the vampire would have waited until they were elsewhere to bring it up.

“They’re still on the island.”

Now that got Brahms to actually turn and look at Gideon. “What?!” It was a heated roar.

Gideon raised a hand in an effort to appease him. “You left the sister in no condition to travel. Certainly until her wounds heal, the pair will be at the mercy of the island.” Gideon did not smile or smirk, simply stating plain fact. “It is unfortunate, but it takes more than one pair of hands to man even the smallest of vessels off this island.”

“And the damn fools will most likely not tolerate any offer to assist them!” Brahms grumbled. He and Gideon both knew that the Valkyriie Hrist would go on the offensive the instant a vampire drew near to her. Hrist would mostly likely rather die than allow a vampire to lay hands on her, or to allow a vampire to teleport her off the island.

Gideon said nothing, expression patient as he waited for Brahms’ assessment. “My orders still stand.” Brahms told him. “Hrist and her lover, are to be left alone. We will of course monitor them from a distance, but so long as they continue to travel AWAY from the castle, we will not do them any harm.” There was no need to ask what their fate would be, should the Valkyrie and her einherjar be foolish enough to return to the castle.

It would take much restraint on his vampire’s part, the men and women having to hold back their natural impulse to go after the Valkyrie and the sweet blood contained in her veins. Especially one as hurt as Hrist had been at the end of her encounter with Brahms. Truthfully Brahms wasn’t sure his people could resist such temptation, and he could only hope Hrist healed quick enough from her injuries so as to make her escape from the island.

Such was Gideon’s loyalty, he did not complain about Brahms decision. He might not have approved, but never did he raise an objection. But Gideon knew as well as Brahms did that the order to leave Hrist alone would not prove popular. It was just one more thing that Brahms would have to explain and justify, and he feared his promise to Silmeria would not be a good enough reason to many of the vampires.

He had a lot to explain, and not just to the vampires. If, WHEN he corrected hastily, Silmeria woke, she would surely have questions for him. He wasn’t sure how much of his memories she would choose to believe, but even if Silmeria tried to deny what the blood had showed her, there would still be a discussion. Brahms was prepared to shoot down all her arguments, all her insistences that what she had learned was lies. It wasn’t a confrontation he was entirely looking forward to, Brahms not only despairing should Silmeria not accept his memories as truth, but embarrassed by some of what she may have seen.

But he refused to dwell on the memories now, refused to so much as think of the Goddess he had so wronged in his infancy as a vampire. For good or for bad, Hel was a part of his past, and as embarrassing as his behavior towards his former fiancee was, it had also helped shape him. Made him into someone different from who Brahms had been as a God. Most days he felt sure the vampire Brahms was an infinitely better being than whoever he had been as a God. But Silmeria had a way of making him doubt, of making Brahms almost ashamed of what he was. And that had been before Silmeria had even a glimmer of the truth behind his origins!

For all his long existence, Brahms had never had to truly answer for the things he had done in his past. Even Hel with her hatred, hadn’t been able to do anything about what he had done, not so long as she remain bound to him as his blood slave. And though something, Odin most likely, had freed her of their link, Hel for all her anger and blustering, had never been able to successfully exact revenge on Brahms. Silmeria however, held the potential to be different. Her disappointment in him would be crushing, her disdain devastating. With just a few choice words, Silmeria could destroy him.

It was no wonder he was lingering outside the castle now. Silmeria wasn’t even awake yet, and already Brahms was all but quaking in his boots. He feared rejection, feared Silmeria would turn her back so completely on him now that she knew the truth. Before, when she was ignorant of his past, Brahms had been able to reassure himself. To tell himself Silmeria felt the way she did because she knew nothing but the lies Odin had told about Brahms and the vampires. What if she looked at his past, accepted it as the truth, and still hated him? Something would surely shatter, Silmeria vanquishing his one chance at true happiness. When that happened, what would be left to him, save his vengeance against Odin?

Thoughts of Odin always raised his hackles, Brahms scowling in response. He wondered if he would ever get his chance to revenge himself upon Odin, to right the wrongs that God had done. The war between them had been never ending, and the only time a victor every seemed set to emerge, was when Odin had Brahms on the run. Brahms could only take comfort in the fact it had been a small eternity since he had been on the losing side of his fight with Odin. But coming out even was a long way from winning, and Brahms had allowed his need to avenge himself, his father, even Hel fester for far too many years.

Brahms needed a resolution, not just for himself, but for the race he had created. He wanted, needed them to belong, to finally be allowed to live. It wasn’t right that Odin punished the vampires simply because they were born of Brahms’ blood. It was one of Brahms greatest wishes, to see his vampires thriving, accepted or at least tolerated by the other races of the realms. That once would have been enough to sustain him, but that was before he had encountered Silmeria.

He couldn’t help that his thoughts kept coming back to the former Valkyrie. She who held so much power in her delicate hands. Power to make Brahms complete, to make him happy in a way no other being, man or woman, had ever been able. He had a feeling eternity would be worth living if Silmeria would only open her heart and accept him. He didn’t know if he deserved that chance though, not after his mistakes with Hel. But Brahms was determined to grasp onto any sliver of chance Silmeria would give him, even as his relationship with the former Goddess put his crown in jeopardy.

Now that the fighting on the island was over with, Brahms had nothing to do but think. The way that his thoughts kept coming back to Silmeria, to what he hoped for, and even what he feared from her, let him know he wasn’t going to accomplish much. Not tonight, and maybe not even tomorrow night, so long as he was left waiting for Silmeria to awaken. They needed to have that discussion, whatever direction it took, for Brahms to even hope of functioning beyond that of a mindless killing machine.

His claws were back to flexing, Brahms wanting to sink them in to someone. To tear out chunks of flesh from an opponent. It was fortunate his senses were so attuned, that his nose picked up Vandimeer’s scent long before the vampire reached him. It was perhaps the only thing that kept Brahms from lashing out, from doling out pain to a man he considered one of his closest allies.

Like Gideon, Vandimeer made a show of making as much noise as possible as he walked. Neither vampire had wanted the misfortune of sneaking up on their king, especially given his agitated state. That would have been the quickest way for a vampire to end up gutted by Brahms’ claws.

Vandimeer was in mid bow, when Brahms turned to glare at him. The vampire hardly reacted to that look, or to the demanding growl Brahms let out. “Why are you not with Silmeria?” Vandimeer opened his mouth to answer, but Brahms was continuing, his tone menacing. “You know there are few I trust to watch over my bride.” And even less that held enough power to deal with the threat of a Valkyrie like Hrist.

“Forgive me.” Vandimeer said, straightening slowly from his bow. “But I thought you would like to know. Silmeria has awakened. She is up and about…..”

“Awake?” breathed out Brahms, his eyes raising to the sky. It was still crowded with the storm clouds the vampire mages had summoned, blotting out the sun that had to have set by now. Brahms didn’t wonder how he could have let night falling pass without his notice, the vampire well aware of how distracted his thoughts had had him. “How…how is she?”

“She seems agitated.” Vandimeer told him. “More so than usual.”

“I must go to her.” As nervous as he was, it was not a tough decision to make. He NEEDED to see her, to look at her. To breathe in her scent, to even hold her if she would allow it.

Vandimeer was nodding, but as Brahms prepared to teleport, he reached out. His hand didn’t quite touch Brahms’ arm, fingers hovering over the blood stained gauntlet. “A word of advice….”

“Yes?” Brahms asked, though he was distracted, the energy gathering within him for the teleportation he was about to attempt.

“I would not go to her immediately.” A gesture at Brahms’ bloody state. “Not looking like this. Lady Silmeria will not appreciate you arriving covered in the blood of people who were part of her former life…”

The energy had been about to shift him into the castle, into the very room Silmeria paced. Now it seemed to explode inside him, Brahms wincing in response. But at least he hadn’t teleported, realizing the merit of what Vandimeer suggested. “You’re right.” He said, and grimaced down at his torn clothing, and at the blood and gore that clung to his bare skin. “A quick bath is in order…”

“I will return to my post.” Vanidmeer looked as though he was fighting a smile. “No one will disturb the lady so long as I stand guard.”

Brahms nodded to him, knowing Silmeria was as safe as she could be, given it wasn’t he himself who watched over her. It was with this confidence that he gathered the energy needed to teleport, Vandimeer being whisked away by his own energies, presumedly to return to Silmeria’s side. Brahms himself would teleport inside the castle, to the chamber he had taken over as his temporary quarters. It was a large room, neat with barely a sign of having been occupied in recent days. Brahms barely gave notice to the room, save to do a probing with his senses to make sure he truly was alone. Once satisfied, he hurried into the bathing chamber, his clothing being stripped off as he ran.

Brahms was impatient as he bathed, the red colored water sloshing over the sides of the tub. Impatient though he was, he did not hurry. At least, he didn’t rush the bath as quick as he could have, the vampire taking time to clean his claws so that not a trace of blood and grime remained. The scent of the carnage he had participated in, wouldn’t wash away completely. Silmeria would be able to smell that he had killed this day, a vampire’s sense of smell was simply too strong to hide away what Brahms had done.

Brahms wasn’t ashamed of the deaths. Not when he had killed in order to protect not only Silmeria, but his vampires and their home. He wouldn’t try to flaunt what he had done, but neither would he hide it. The Valkyrie and their einherjar, were the enemies of all vampires. That would remain a hard truth for as long as Odin continued to rule over Creation, maintaining his lies and vendetta.

A vendetta that even now targeted Silmeria. Odin feared her, feared the truth Silmeria would learn. Brahms wondered what power Odin thought it would give Silmeria, even as he knew there was another reason for the God to target his former Valkyrie. Silmeria held the potential to make Brahms happy, and petty as it was, Odin would never be able to tolerate the idea of his hated brother achieving true bliss. Odin would do his best to take Silmeria from Brahms, to destroy her and end whatever threat she might have been to Odin’s own rule over the realms.

Whatever Silmeria decided, whatever she deemed truth from the memories his blood had shared with her, she was still a vampire. She would have to fight for the right to live in a world ruled by Odin. Regardless of what she believed, so long as Silmeria wanted to live, the divine assassins would come for her. Brahms had regrettably damned her in that way, her life forever in jeopardy.

He grimaced as he thought that unfortunate fact, Brahms raising a bucket of warm water to pour over his head. The water rinsed out his hair, and sluiced down his back. Brahms wouldn’t even wait for his hair to dry, letting that impressive mane hang down straight rather than in it’s usual spiked fashion. Just as he gave little regard to his hair, Brahms also didn’t bother to fuss over his clothes. He’d put on the first clean outfit that he found, barely finishing lacing his boots before teleporting outside Silmeria’s room.

Vandimeer was standing guard just before the open door. He smiled in greeting at his King, but Brahms barely noticed. His eyes were seeking out Silmeria, the vampiress having turned. She had sensed his arrival, perhaps even sensed the energy he had used to teleport to her. He got only a brief glimpse of her face, eyes that were now red, and looking far more startled than he had expected.

She didn’t speak, and at her turning away from him, Brahms heart sunk just a little. He couldn’t know for certain what was going on in her mind, but he felt it a rejection. And yet he wouldn’t run, inhaling a deep breath as he tried to gather his courage to confront her.

“Leave us.” Brahms ordered. Vandimeer was hardly surprised, taking only seconds to teleport away. Brahms would step into the room, allowing the newly repaired door to fall close behind him. Silmeria gave no reaction to that sound, drifting instead to the window. Her hand hovered over the sill, the vampiress not quite touching it. The enchantment on the window wouldn’t have tolerated her touch, would have zapped her for sure.

Brahms wanted to walk over to her, to take her by the arms and force her to look at him. Instead he paced over to the chairs by the bed, though he didn’t sit down. In the moment he was all riled energy, too tense to relax. He didn’t even know what to say to her, where to begin. The examination of his past would hurt, and already he felt Silmeria stabbing her claws into him though she hadn’t said a word.

The bed was not made, the sheets rumpled and tossed aside. It was no slow awakening Silmeria had done, but a frantic lurch free of the bed. Brahms wondered if his past, his memories had been that distasteful, that distressing to send her fleeing from them. He almost asked her then, his lips actually parting, the question half voiced when Silmeria spoke.

“They didn’t leave the island, did they?”

There was no need to ask who the they was that she referred to. Brahms would slowly nod his head, a grimace on his lips. “They refused my generosity.” To his surprise, Silmeria didn’t bristle at his choice of words. Instead her shoulders slumped downwards, Silmeria looking the picture of grief.

“I knew there was a chance they wouldn’t…” She all but whispered. “But still. I had to try…” She didn’t ask if there was any survivors, for Silmeria knew better than that. Vampires rarely if ever took prisoners of war, preferring to feed off the blood of their enemies. It wasn’t that different from the Valkyrie, the Asgardians killing all vampires and undead, rather than risk them getting free.

“Your efforts were not all in vain.” Brahms tried to reassure her. “Your sister, Hrist and that man she traveled with. They alone still live.” Silmeria seemed to sag with relief at those words.

“Thank you…” It was a surprising show of gratitude, Silmeria turning to cast him a sincere look. “Thank you for that…”

“Their fate is all but out of my hands.” Brahms interrupted her. “Should Hrist decide to return to this castle….”

“I can only pray that she won’t…” Silmeria said, then made a dismayed sound. “Pray….such an odd concept for a vampire to embrace. Or…is it to you that they direct such things to?”

“To me?” Brahms asked, wanting to laugh at the idea. “No one has truly prayed to me in over a millennia….”

Silence descended upon them, Silmeria’s gaze considering as she stared at him. He didn’t shy away from that look, didn’t so much as fidget. Instead he gazed back at her, eyes almost daring her to voice the questions they both so desperately wanted her to ask. Silmeria didn’t step away from the window, but at least she didn’t turn away from him. He’d spy her cute fangs which looked as small and delicate as the rest of Silmeria. The tips pressed into her bottom lip, but didn’t draw blood. It was a betraying gesture, showing that Silmeria too was nervous.

“You’ve been forgotten.” She finally said. “That’s why they don’t pray to you….”

“No, you’re wrong.” Brahms told her. “To be forgotten, I’d have to have existed in their memories in the first place.” He gave her an unhappy smile. “Many of the races that populate the realms? They came after.”

“After…” A slow blinking of her eyes, Silmeria seeming to strive to gather her courage. “After your fall from the heavens you mean?”

He couldn’t exhale a relieved breath, not sure what to make of her question. Did this mean she accepted his memories as truth, or was it something else? But he didn’t sense a disbelieving air about her, Silmeria more nervous than anything. Slowly, Brahms nodded a yes to her question.

“The einherjar I saw….they were…a kind of…fairy were they not?”

“The race that came before the elves.” Brahms answered. “The fair folk were among the first to walk Creation under the guidance of the Gods.”

Silmeria seemed to digest this tidbit of info, nodding slowly to herself. “The others would come later…” She whispered to herself. Brahms could only nod in response, waiting, breath practically held for what Silmeria would say next. “There are….so many questions I have. So many answers I need.”

“Were not the memories in my blood answer enough?” Brahms asked her.

She quickly shook her head no, seeming agitated. “They give me answers, yet leave a hundred more questions for me to ask!” Silmeria exclaimed. Her gaze searched out his, Silmeria taking a step towards him. Brahms held himself absolutely still, savoring her approach. He was so used to Silmeria backing away, so used to her attempts to avoid him being near. That she would willingly approach him now? It built his hopes up, the smallest of pleasures filling him, warming him.

“Questions…” Brahms managed to say when Silmeria stopped just short of his arms’ reach. “What exactly do you wish to know?”

“Everything!” She exclaimed, an impatience vibrating through her. If the mood hadn’t been so to tense, so serious, Brahms might have been amused. “There’s so much…..I haven’t the faintest idea where to begin…”

Brahms allowed himself a small smile. “How about we start at the beginning then?” He inquired, and Silmeria nodded.

“Yes, that would be best…” A lowering of her eyes, Silmeria seeming to gather up her courage before locking gazes with him once more. “You. You are a God?”

“I WAS a God.” He corrected her. “I haven’t been a true divine in years, since before most of the realms became populated with the races that dwell upon them now.” She seemed to shiver in response, her expression hard to read. “What?” He asked softly, not truly expecting her to answer.

“I knew you were old…” Silmeria began. “But to have existed at the start of creation? That I did not expect.”

“I am sure that applies to much of my past.” Brahms told her. She nodded.

“I certainly wasn’t expecting to….to learn what I did.” Silmeria admitted. “I mean there were rumors….things whispered about among the races. But it’s all been pure speculation….”

“The truth has been all but lost.” Brahms agreed. “Odin has manipulated everything, ensuring that only lies about our feud, and the vampires remain.”

“And the vampire’s reputation is such, that even if you were to speak up….few would believe you…” Silmeria said.

“Exactly. Without proof, without backing from the other Gods, who would dare believe the word of a monster?” A grim, humorless smile. “I cannot give my blood to every single being in Creation…and few would take Hel’s word as proof even if the Goddess was willing to support me on this.”

“Hel…” Silmeria frowned, the strangest look in her eyes. He was unable to interpret the true meaning behind that look, many of Silmeria’s expressions still too unreadable to him. He hoped to change that one day, to be able to learn and understand all of the emotions that she experienced.

Except for the saying of Hel’s name, Silmeria remained silent. It was a silence that stretched awkward between them, Brahms tensing once more. He wondered what Silmeria was thinking, wondered if she was privately recalling the complex, and far too sordid history that existed between him and the underworld’s Goddess. There was far too much bad blood where he and Hel was concerned, a knot of tension working into Brahms’ shoulders. He had done things, embarrassing things, shameful things, terrible things. He had been a victim to the parasite within him, preying on Hel in more ways then one. The line between cruelty and caring had often been blurred, Brahms using Hel even as he kept her alive. What if Silmeria found the things he had done unforgivable?

“Lord Odin….Odin has done Hel a disservice too.” Silmeria said at last. Brahms practically choked on his worry, barely managing to gasp out an agreement.

“I am not the only one to have been forgotten.”

“Hel at least, retained her divinity…..She has a place in Creation, even if many hate and fear her…” Silmeria pointed out.

“She was never meant to be so despised!” grumbled Brahms. “She would have….should have remained in the Heavens…She was an innocent…” He fought to keep from turning away from Silmeria’s piercing gaze. “I ruined her…”

“It was not just you.” He wondered if Silmeria was trying to be reassuring. “Odin had a hand in helping to bring down that Goddess.”

“Odin has been cruel to her, it’s true…” Brahms hesitated. “But where Hel is concerned, my hands are far dirtier than his.”

“I’m not so sure I agree with that…” Silmeria’s words were like a beacon of light, cutting through the darkness of the feelings that threatened to eat at him. “Odin is the one who set everything into motion from what I understand. It was Odin who created that which was meant to kill you…his greed for the throne of Creation, has led him to do despicable things…patricide, torture, attempted genocide of an entire race….if he had only honored your father’s wishes….”

“I have long mused on the many whats that could have happened if Odin had been different…” Brahms admitted with a sigh. “But such thoughts accomplish little except to paint how bleak a picture the truth truly is….” He paused, needing to gather more courage. Funny how he could face a dozen or more Valkyrie in a single battle, and not know fear, and yet this talk with Silmeria almost scared him witless.

“Silmeria. You are taking this well.” Once again they locked eyes, neither one willing to turn away. “Perhaps better than I dared hope or anticipate….”

“You want to know why. ” It was a statement not a question, Silmeria in no doubt of Brahms answer.

“Yes. You could have had many different reactions….you still could….” Brahms held in his sigh. “You could have insisted the memories were false, that I speak of nothing but lies…..”

“I wanted too…” Silmeria admitted. “I don’t think you’ll ever truly comprehend just how badly I wanted to cling to the truths as I have known them for my entire life…..But….” A biting of her lip, and then Silmeria was frowning. “The memories your blood gave me….they were just too real. Too detailed to have been created on a whim. The depth of feelings I gathered from the memories, your pain, your anger, even your shame…..in my heart, I don’t believe that could have been faked.”

Now she gave him an almost chastising look. “The blood….it’s shown me the good and the bad, and even the ugly. I’ve seen things, experienced moments I think you would have preferred I did not. At times, those moments hardly offered a flattering image of you…” Wonders of wonders, an almost smile quirked the corner of her lips, Silmeria looking mildly amused. “You want me.” It was a bold acknowledgment, the woman for once choosing not to flee from his need of her. “I doubt very much you would have shown me such things that might be detrimental to your…..courtship of me.”

Now he was really embarrassed, mortified heat warming his face. “I wasn’t always in control of my actions….not entirely…” He told her. “Especially when I first transformed…..and the hunger was….new to me. I behaved shamelessly and deplorably to Hel…..”

“I do not know if I am any fit to judge you…..not when my own transformation…has led me to moments where…I could not, was not, myself…” The faintest pink bloomed on her cheeks. “I was out of control amongst your vampires….I couldn’t contain my anger….or the new feelings my….transformation has brought me. How can I blame you for something I couldn’t control myself?”

“It’s one reason why I pushed you to feed…” Brahms said. “A stomach full of blood helps to avoid such loss of control…”

“You were trying to protect me….and those around me from such problems.” Her blush grew more intense in color, the pink a darker shade now. “I see now I should have listened sooner…”

“You weren’t ready.” Brahms quickly reassured her. “You had a wealth of misconceptions about me, about the vampires. And until you were ready to live as one, you wouldn’t have been ready for the truths my blood would give you….”

“I’m not entirely sure I was ready for all that I learned. But…I suppose no one can truly prepare themselves for such a thing.”

He managed a weak chuckle. “I lived it, and sometimes I think I am still not prepared for all that has happened to me, to Hel, to Creation itself!”

“It’s been an awful burden for you, hasn’t it?” Silmeria asked. “With no one to truly talk to, no one to share what has happened.”

“Not to mention the only people who knew the truth, wanting to kill me.” Brahms added.

“You are even stronger than I first thought….You were able to endure it…to endure all that has happened to you, even the loneliness and despair….If I had been in your place….I don’t think I would have survived those first days….not alone…”

“You are not giving yourself enough credit!” Brahms protested. “You have your own strengths….were you not the first Valkyrie to enter the battle at age fourteen, years before you were frozen into your immortality?”

“That’s not quite the same….I had my sisters. Not only to look up to and emulate, but to draw support from. They have always been there…lending me their strength. You however, were truly alone….abandoned by your bother, forgotten by all others. Even when…Hel was with you, you could not truly say you weren’t alone….You went through the fire, and you didn’t end up crazy.”

“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that…” Brahms admitted.

“Believe me…I have your memories….and I have not come away from them with doubts to your sanity.” Silmeria told him. “You’ve not only endured, you’ve of a sort managed to prosper, to carve out an existence for yourself as ruler of the undead….”

“The need for vengeance can be a great motivator.” His expression darkened. “I cannot, will not die until Odin pays and all is set right within Creation!” Silmeria seemed to shiver in response to that. He hesitated, feeling vulnerable as he corrected his words. “At least…I used to think that way.” Now he stepped forward to close the distance between them, reaching for her hands. “I have a reason beyond vengeance to live now…I have…I have you….”

Before he could get out the words, she was pressing two fingers against his lip. How Brahms wanted to kiss and taste those fingers, the vampire staring down at his bride. But her words were hardly the reassurance he would have her speak, Silmeria sounding almost desperate then. “Don’t! Do not…do not put this burden on me…do not make me responsible for your happiness…”

“It’s too late…” He whispered, watching as she shivered again. “It’s always been too late….from the first moment I saw you…..perhaps to even before that….Hel, none of the Goddesses, moved me…..I cared, but did not love any of them. I thought myself incapable of love, long before I was ever infected by Odin’s parasite. I know now I was waiting for the right one, the right woman to complete me…..”

She drew away from him, looking shaken. “You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?” Brahms continued ruthlessly. “The connection between us, the attraction that pulls us together? It’s what kept me from killing you, what kept you from resisting my kiss that night on Idavoll…..”

“Stop it….” She whispered, distressed. “Stop it!” Louder then, Silmeria fitfully shaking her head.

“You can accept my memories as truth, but not my feelings for you?” Brahms demanded, a hint of anger in his voice. She responded to the anger more than the words, glaring back at him. He held back his exasperation, understanding that perhaps now, on top of the truth of Odin’s misdeeds, Brahms love, the attraction that existed for both himself and Silmeria, was too much for the girl to face. Odin’s manipulations and tyranny was probably a much easier and more palatable opponent to face, than the idea of love and desire to a former Valkyrie who had never experienced such things before. Brahms could grudgingly understand and accept it, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He yearned for Silmeria, yearned for a closer bond and intimacy with her than had been experienced. He hadn’t expected the memories his blood contained to make everything better, and indeed they hadn’t, Silmeria still holding herself detached from him where her heart was concerned. Brahms didn’t know what it would take, what would push her towards facing the attraction she felt, but he hoped he would lose his sanity completely waiting on her!