Chapter Text
Like a dream, Lena remembered…
Two years ago…
It was a clear night when she left. The full moon gave her plenty of light to guide her through the halls of the chateau. She quickly found the bag she had secured with her personal belongings that had been stored away.
Switching her extravagant nightwear for something easier to move in and easier to blend into a nearby town with. Lena finally made for her marked escape path.
With silent steps she crept through the manse, making sure to avoid the candle lights of servants and clinking boots and mail of guards in the night.
It was patience and persistence that saw Lena through the Chateau’s winding paths and long hallways. Despite her time there, she moved with the skill and subtlety of her previous vocation.
She finally made it to the courtyard, where her escape meant either failure or success. As she approached the gate, she saw the torches still lit, but as she approached the gatehouse proper, she saw the slumped figures of the guards. Their midnight drink was drugged to give them a proper sleep.
They’d be punished for failing to stay awake, and Lena did regret that, but she had no other chance of escaping.
“Sorry mates,” She whispered as she climbed the gatehouse and looked out to the moat surrounding the manse, then back to the Chateau Guillard. “Sorry, love.”
She turned, preparing to leap into the dark waters, when a shrill, echoing bell rang in the night.
“What the blazes-?”
“The consort! She’s missing!” Came the answering call.
“Oh shit-!”
A piercing, inhuman cry rang out in the night. Lena’s eyes glanced towards the top of the tower, where even at a distance, a pair of golden eyes glared down at her.
“LENA!” Came the cry. Lena felt her heart crumble as she looked back, seeing the fury, betrayal and abject heartbreak in the golden eyes as they glided down to her.
Unlike in her memory, Lena remained still on the gatehouse, closing her eyes and bearing her neck for the fangs to take her life.
Her guilt and own conflicted feelings held her fast. Tears brimmed her eyes as the enormity of her betrayal weighed on her.
“I’m sorry, Amélie.”
Gasping, Lena awoke, brown eyes flickering over the small room. Ale-stained walls, a coarse blanket, and an old plank door held shut and secured by a rusty lock.
Nope, definitely a dream, she mused, stretching and sitting up. A sleepy grumble to her left turned her gaze to a pair of sleepy green eyes and tousled scarlet hair.
“Nightmare again, pet?” Emily asked sleepily.
Lena grinned sheepishly, “Yeah, sorry.”
“No worries,” Emily said, turning and yawning. “Anything different this time?”
She started to shake her head, before pausing and nodding, “I didn’t leap into the moat this time,” She said. “Felt a pull and waited for her instead.”
“Hmm,” Emily hummed. “Do you think this Countess is still after you?”
Lena shrugged, “Dunno. Went on Pilgrimage afterwards, didn’t hear sight or sound of her since. If she was smart, she would give up on me.”
Emily snickered, “Give up on you? Impossible!” She leaned over in the bed and pressed a kiss to Lena’s temple. “Are you afraid of her finding you?”
“There’s plenty of Lenas in the world,” She said.
Rolling her eyes, the redhead rolled into Lena’s shoulder. “You never told me why it is you left.”
“I’m a thief, love, I chase the treasures of the world for the best plunder; Christians, Muslims, Herertics, and so on, there was nothing left for me there,” Lena explained, the lies second-nature at this point. Not that she wanted to lie to her lover.
Emily saw right through her though, an ironic smile on her face, “Right. You were the consort of a wealthy Countess with inhuman powers, and you decided to flee on your own accord without taking any of her treasures? Somehow I can’t believe that.”
The truth was harder, how could she look Emily in the eye and tell her that staying scared her? That remaining as the Countess’ consort terrified her, that for all Lena could do in her trade, Amélie could snap her fingers and Lena would be powerless against her. And the worst part? A free spirit like Lena had slowly began to enjoy the possibility. Far more than she should.
Taking the silence for an answer, Emily sighed.
“Best be up anyways, tavern won’t open itself.”
Emily rolled out of the small bed, brushing her fiery locks and putting on her dress for the day.
Lena chuckled appreciatively, “You look good for a serving wench.”
Emily rolled her eyes, “And you look good for a lazy spouse,” She replied dryly.
They both smiled weakly. Admiring the rings on their fingers, simple bands, but always they were forced to lie when asked about whom they married.
Neither church nor people understood or accepted the love between two women being as natural as that between man and woman. But neither would they accept that the two of them owned a tavern together, and not “Leon Oxton” Lena’s made-up twin brother who was Emily’s husband.
Thankfully, as her days as a thief Lena became a master at masking her presence through body language and disguise. So when she appeared without her long false hair, but her naturally short and wild hair, a false mustache and bound chest, everyone bought that Leon was the real owner of the Tavern and Emily’s husband.
The fact few asked about Lena’s husband, some Arnaud, who was “away on crusade” made it easier for the two to continue their proper lives. Even though openly loving each other in plain sight was off the table for them.
Lena grumbled and got out of bed, forcefully putting on her dress and preparing for her own day at their owned tavern, Calvary’s Rest .
Nestled in a crossroad, the tavern was always lively. Bringing news from Outremer on the fates of Crusades and Crusaders alike, what new schemes the Popes and Kings were up to in the world, and what new imagined slight was a sin against God.
It was always a lively crowd, and with two charming women as the principle cook and servers, the men loyal to holy matrimony prayed for their husbands, and those who sinned learned first hand they were not amenable.
It was quiet when the day ended, both wives washing down tables and glasses alike. The day was blissfully over, and with Sunday tomorrow, they’d both show up for church, pray for their husbands, then retire for the day and enjoy a further blissful day together in bed.
One of the benefits of the holy day.
However, fate was unkind that night.
A sharp knock sounded out in the darkening tavern.
“Sorry, we’re closed!” Lena called.
Another knock, and a muffled voice called out, “I seek the Traceless one,” the voice said.
Recognition flooded Lena’s eyes, and she stiffened. No…I gave up that life… She looked over to Emily, who shook her head. And yet, Lena found her legs moving to the door to the tavern. She opened the slot in the door, only to see the neck and mouth beyond it.
“My mother sends regards from Cairo,” Came a rich, foreign accented voice.
Lena snickered, unbolting the door, unveiling the stranger, “As-salamu alayakym,” Lena said as she opened the door, the stranger smiled.
“Mualaikumsalam,” She replied. Upon entering the tavern, the woman reached up and lowered her hood. A beautiful face with a tattoo under one eye was revealed, along with armor of blue and ringmail that looked the color of gold. Her dark hair was cut just past the chin, and her dark eyes were warm.
“Fareeha,” Lena said, she glanced down to see a necklace just under her armor, of white and gold. It was new.
“Lena,” The taller woman replied, glancing over to Emily who watched the exchange, “Lady Emily I presume?” Fareeha bowed.
“Lady?” Emily asked, bemused but unconcerned, “Lena, who is this?”
“This is Fareeha Amari,” Lena explained. “Her mother captured me after I went on pilgrimage and was under pressure from the Crusaders. Her mother, Ana, paid for my freedom and sent me back here.”
“So it's your mother I must thank for saving this fool?” Emily asked with a sickeningly sweet smile.
“That and the foolishness of the Crusaders,” She said tightly, turning back to Lena. “I’m sorry to be here on short notice, but…I’m here on business.”
Lena nodded, drawing three tankards, and sitting down at an empty table.
After sitting, Fareeha took a deep exhale, “I need use of your skills, Lena,” She said. “My…companion has been captured, and is being held in a castle to the Southeast.”
Lena let out an exhale, “You want me to help you infiltrate it?”
Fareeha nodded, “You’re the only one I know who could achieve alone what an army could not.”
Despite her reservations and Emily’s worried look, Lena was tempted. The peace she and Emily had achieved was a miracle, they had their own property, their own achievements to stand on, and Lena had stolen enough to easily remain retired for the rest of her life.
Yet, the temptation remained. The forbidden thrill and hunger for adventure hadn’t left her, more than it had been repressed. Still, she shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” She began, but it was Emily who spoke up.
“Your companion, she’s in mortal danger?” She asked.
Fareeha turned to her, dark eyes meeting her green ones. “She is…her release depends on a ransom, one they will not honor even if I pay, as I am a Saracen to their eyes.”
Emily looked back to Lena, meeting her eyes. “How dangerous would this task be?”
“The castle is lightly garrisoned, Lena need only open the gates, and I will handle the rest. If her skills are as they were, then she will not even need to draw her blades.”
Emily gaze didn’t leave Lena’s, she nodded. “You two will leave at first light.”
“Em-“ Lena began, but the redhead shook her head.
“Lena, as much as I hate the idea of you in danger, if your skill is what saves a life, then how can I be responsible for keeping you here?” She asked.
Lena didn’t respond, couldn’t really. Reckless and wild as she considered herself, Emily had a pure heart, and barely hesitated in sending her to help another person she didn’t even know. Truly, she didn’t deserve her.
“Thank you, both of you,” Fareeha said, her voice wavering, “Your kindness means much to me.”
After showing Fareeha to a spare room, Lena and Emily retired to theirs.
“You sure about this, Emily?” Lena asked.
Emily nodded, “You're an adventurer, my love. No one can hold you down, least of all me. And as genuinely as I love that you want to remain away from that life for my sake, I know you yearn to return to the adventure,” She leaned down and kissed Lena tenderly, “But so long as you come home, I will not stand in the way of what you must do.”
Lena smiled, “Careful, next thing you’ll know I’ll be on the next Crusade!”
Emily rolled her eyes, “The worst thing that could happen is you go along and actually make sure it succeeds,” She said. “Become the Christian King of Egypt.”
“Ooh, I like that,” Lena snickered. “Lena Oxton, the lady King of Egypt! Lover of women and ruler of Christians, Muslims and Pagans!”
Emily chortled at that, “At least someone with sense will be at the top there!”
Settling down, the two held each other closely, “Are you sure?” Lena asked again.
Emily nodded, “Just come back to me.”
“Couldn’t keep me away,” Lena said with a rougish grin.
Come the morning, Lena dressed in her traveling clothing; pants, mustache and all, heading down the road with Fareeha similarly disguised. She turned back one last time to wave at Emily as she made her way to church.
“Thank you, for this,” Fareeha said.
“I owe your mother my life, what better way to repay it than helping her daughter?” Fareeha smiled stiffly at that, then coughed.
She stiffened and grunted, like she was trying to clear her throat, “I only hope you don’t come to regret it,” She said thinly.
“What?” Lena asked, concerned.
“Sorry,” Fareeha said, coughing to clear her throat. “Swallowed a bug.”
“Ah, been there,” Lena replied, thumping her on the back.
“I only meant that I hope this is as easy for you as I expect, I’d hate to break your peace for my sake,” Fareeha clarified.
Lena shrugged, “If I’m as good as I think I am, we’ll be fine.”
“Keep that confidence with you,” Fareeha chuckled.
Two weeks passed, and the pair finally reached the castle.
“That it?” Lena asked.
“It is,” Fareeha confirmed.
“How many guards?”
“No more than a dozen for the night’s watch, total garrison is closer to thirty,” Fareeha said stiffly. Lena looked over to her in concern.
In the last few weeks of travel, the taller woman had been subject to bursts of stringent coughs or closed throats, often forcing words out that she quickly recovered from and explained what she meant more clearly.
Lena wrote it off as her concern for her companion, but she was starting to get a pit in her stomach over it all. Still, she trusted Fareeha, she was honorable and loyal to a fault, and wouldn’t lead her astray.
Waiting for darkness to fall, Lena scaled the walls in darkness, watching the roving torches and keeping sure to stay out of their light.
When a patrol passed them, Lena swung onto the wall proper, and made her way for the gate. Any guard in her way soon felt sleep’s embrace, and hopefully would be asleep long enough for them to finish their task.
Finding the gateway oddly bereft of guards, Lena peaked around. She was getting a distinct feeling that something was amiss.
It was a gut feeling she got every so often, and very rarely was it wrong.
Hope its just my aging nerves, she thought, creeping towards the gate. She took her time, making sure there were no traps, no sleeping guards, and no patrols waiting for her. None were, but still she was on edge.
This feels like a trap, She thought, but the other voice in her head, one of the bolder aspects of her personality insisted they never would have expected her. And that every moment wasted ensured the knocked out guards would soon be found.
She pushed the hinge to lower the drawbridge, and seeing Fareeha on the farside, turned the wheel to raise the portcullis. She left it open a bit to allow them a quick exit, and Fareeha soon ducked under it and into the courtyard.
“Okay, so what-?” Lena began to ask, only for Fareeha to bolt past her and into the courtyard. “Fareeha!?” She hissed. But the warrior didn’t heed her, instead charging further into the castle, entering a dark doorway.
“Fareeha! Damn it, wait!” Lena cried, pursuing her into the darkness.
Fareeha’s desperation made her heedless of the sounds of her own boots on the stone. That along with the jangling of her armor echoed across the courtyard and throughout the castle.
Turning into the dark hallway, Lena charged and rushed through the decrepit halls and hallways, keeping an ear out for Fareeha’s steps. It was a miracle Lena was both a fast runner and able to keep her presence quiet.
She had just caught up with Fareeha, who had entered through the only doorway with any light, then collapsed. Lena followed into what looked like a great hall with a single torch lit next to the entry.
“Fareeha, what the hell is into you? We’ve surely alerted the whole castle!” She hissed, crouching next to Fareeha who was panting hard. Lena frowned, she had run hard and in armor, but surely she wasn’t that winded.
Fareeha mumbled something, but Lena couldn’t hear her.
“What?”
“… Run….trap! ” Fareeha gasped out.
“My word, she has some will, yet!” Thundered a voice. With it, the door behind them slammed shut and all the torches lit at once. At the end of the hall was a throne, and seated in it, was a blonde woman wearing a long black cloak with white and gold flourishes. A wide brimmed hat rested on her hair.
Lena drew her daggers, “Who are you?”
The woman laughed, “Angela Ziegler, ruler of this castle and mistress surpreme of the magic arts.”
Lena paled, “A witch!”
“If you wish, it makes little difference,” Angela said, standing to her feet, a stave manifesting in her hand. She pointed towards Fareeha then curled her fingers inwards, “Fareeha, my pretty falcon, come here.”
Fareeha unsteadily picked herself off the floor and dragged herself forward.
“Fareeha-!” Lena grabbed her friend, but retracted her hand. Her armor, it felt white hot to her touch.
As Lena wrung out her hand, she noticed the white and gold collar, it seemed to glow and pulsate with every step she made.
“You’ve bewitched her!”
“Very good!” Angela praised, sauntering down the steps of the throne, “To her credit, dear Fareeha has been very stubborn, she has so much pride that would forbid us to become one. Sadly for her, I do not let go what is mine.”
Fareeha had crossed the grand hall and fell to her knees at Angela’s feet. Lena wanted to run to her friend’s aid, but wouldn’t risk further proximity to the witch.
“Don’t be disheartened though, dear Fareeha would never knowingly betray you, she is too loyal for that,” Angela explained, running a hand through the bewitched warrior’s hair lovingly. “Even against magic, she cannot be forced to yield.”
“Then…why am I here? You had her enthralled from the start,” Lena asked, fearing the answer.
Angela looked up from her mesmerized prize, and fixed a dark look on Lena. “Ah yes. My Patron is the one after you,” raising her stave she tapped it once against the floor and the flames of the torches fell to the floor and took human shape. They turned towards her. “Not unlike me, she will reclaim what is hers.”
Lena’s eyes widened, “ Amélie !?”
“Correct!” Angela praised. “When I first claimed my dear Fareeha here, she stubbornly resisted my questions. When she named you as the lost consort of my dear patron, well, I told her.”
That meant that Amélie knew where Lena and Emily were!
“Don’t worry dear, you’ll be back where you belong soon, maybe even leashed and collared as you should be, right dear?” Angela asked Fareeha, who had lost all of her resistance and was now kneeling subservient.
“Y-yes, Mistress,” She said, almost happily.
“Be a dear, Lena, and let me make this quick,” Angela snapped her fingers, and the fireguards slowly made their way to her.
Lena looked around. Years of training and experience drew her gaze to a window some four meters high, that was an escape possibility, and the pillar next to it would be perfect to climb up. However…
Lena turned back to Fareeha. The proud warrior had already stripped herself of her armor and weapons, now kneeling naked at the feet of the Witch. Angela looked down at Fareeha with abject affection which the warrior returned.
Lena knew that if she surrendered she’d see a similar fate. Amélie had orchestrated all of this to capture her, and if it worked, she’d make sure she never left again, if she didn’t torture her first.
Would it be so bad? A part of Lena asked. One part that was loyal and nostalgic for Amélie’s touch, dark kindness and dominant devotion to her.
However, a flash of red hair and green eyes entered Lena’s mind and she snapped out of it.
She may regret leaving Amélie until the day she died, but she would never regret loving Emily, and would not abandon her without a fight.
Looking back at Fareeha, the bewitched woman glanced back at her, eyes distant returning to their natural intelligence. She seemed to read Lena’s thoughts as her mouth formed a word.
“ Run.”
Unspoken, Lena made a leap over an approaching guard, and ducked past three others. She made it to the pillar, dodging a strike from a fourth, and scrambled up the stone. She glanced once more at Fareeha, she had her head rested against the Witch’s knee in naked devotion.
Lena pushed off the pillar with all her might and smashed through the window, landing on the roof of a subsequent building and began to scramble her way to safety.
It seemed there had been no real guards all along, for what awaited her were more guards made of flame and magic traps attempting to catch her like a fly to sticking paper.
She’d been through enough to know what awaited her around each corner. Her instincts that this had been a trap hadn’t been wrong, as such she had prepared for such an escape.
Before long, Lena Oxton, the Traceless, was over the walls of the castle and on her way back home to save her wife from her past.
Angela Ziegler suppressed a moan as Fareeha’s talented mouth tended to her clit. The month she’d been bereft of her dear Falcon had been too long.
“You're not leaving my side ever again,” Angela moaned, as Fareeha’s skill and familiarity began to tell and the Witch found herself close to orgasm.
It was rudely interrupted when a white light flashed by her throne. Groaning, Angela picked up the crystal ball.
“What?” She asked, keeping her lover between her legs. She continued doing her duty to her.
“Do you have her?” Came the thick accent and sharp diction of her benefactor, the one who allowed her residence to this castle.
“She escaped,” Angela said flippantly.
A low growl sounded, and the Witch rolled her eyes, “Oh come now, she has two weeks until she gets home. You have plenty of time to enact the back up plan.”
“ You’re fortunate that I don’t drain your pretty neck, Witch,” Her patron sneered.
Angela, shameless and nonplussed, pulled Fareeha’s tongue from her depths. “Fareeha, dear, tell me who it was who gave Mistress Amélie the information about Lena Oxton.”
“It was…me…” Came the sex-drunk and guilty response.
“Good girl,” Angela praised, before pulling her face back into her depths.
“Now… oh Circe yes! I’ve done my part… mmm …and besides, what better than not one prize, but two?”
“I only want Lena, the woman has done nothing.”
Angela would’ve orgasmed if she didn’t shirk at the comment.
“Come now! You’re a power of your own! You and I, we’re rejected by the world we live in! We are not allowed space, we take what we want! So take what you are owed!” Angela said as Fareeha ramped her up again, her mouth truly was talented.
The crystal ball stopped glowing, and Angela returned her attention to Fareeha, who brought her back to climax.
“Yes….YES! Oh my perfect Knight Do. Not. Stop!” She cried as Fareeha brought her the release she sought.
With the cry of thunder and the white flash of lightning behind her eyes, Angela came. It didn’t matter how much or how often Fareeha did it, she always found a way.
Looking past her blonde strands of hair, Angela stared down at her prize. The dark warrior looked up at her with utter devotion while Angela came down from her high. She’d done well, and despite fighting the collar, the Witch appreciated the spirit.
“Do you hate me for what I’ve done to you?” Angela asked curiously. “Be honest now.”
Fareeha shivered and some warmth returned to her eyes, but she did not sit up or back away. Instead she lay her head on Angela’s thigh and thought.
“Sometimes…it hurts doing as you ask,” She whispered, her breath cool against Angela’s pale skin. “But other times…I know you’re doing what’s best for us…and as much as I hate it sometimes, I love you. Witch that you are.”
Angela giggled at the honest, if measured, response.
“Such honesty and measure deserves a reward, I think. So you’ll pick how I take you tonight,” Angela said, coming to a stand, Fareeha following behind, a deep blush on her face.
“The phallus…all of me,” Fareeha whispered.
“Even your ass?” Angela asked teasingly.
Her slave blushed, but nodded.
“Good girl,” Angela said affectionately, placing a pale hand on the dark woman’s rear possessively.
Emily sighed after saying goodbye to the last visitor to the tavern.
She was tired, and more than concerned for her love. Emily missed Lena’s energy especially on a busy night like this one. News said there was something amassing, perhaps reinforcements for the Crusade, or the remaining Kings taking advantage of various lords having left with their fighting men abroad.
It must’ve been near midnight as Emily rapidly cleaned up the tavern for the next day. Once again lamenting the absence of Lena, especially as the fall nights grew colder.
Speaking of the cold, Emily shivered at the sudden breeze that seemed to enter the tavern. She frowned, Did I leave a window open? She wondered.
Entering back into the main floor, Emily stopped still at another figure in the tavern. Adorned head to toe in dark violet, blue and black, was a figure standing just inside the doorway. The only part of her skin uncovered were the eyes, the rest of the face covered by a black crape that obscured her features.
“Good lord!” Emily gasped, drawing the figure’s attention. “Sorry, you startled me.”
The figure bowed their head, “I apologize,” they said, their voice feminine and carrying a strong regality to it. Emily couldn’t see anything of her face except for her eyes, which were a beautiful gold. She glanced around, “Are you closed? The sign said ‘all welcome’…”
Must not have turned it, Emily thought. She really should have ushered this woman out, but, as Lena had often told her, she was far too nice for her own good times. It was midnight, and this woman seemed keen for a drink. Maybe she is a noble, in which case she might be able to make the cost worth it.
As if reading her mind, the woman reached to her side and pulled out a small cloth bag, which jingled with a healthy amount of coins. “If you’ll take pity on me, I’ll pay for your time.”
Emily smiled, “I can spare you one drink,” She said, gesturing to a table which the woman took. “What can I get you?”
The woman’s eyes snapped to Emily with such suddenness and sharpness that she stopped in her tracks.
“ You,” the mystery woman said, eyes seeming to pierce Emily’s and stare straight into her soul.
“I-I-I,” Emily stuttered , feeling like that gaze had seized her very spirit, she struggled to formulate words and her mind. Eventually, she closed her eyes and shook her head. The pressure left her chest, but her head no throbbed, “I’m…sorry?” She asked sluggishly.
When Emily opened her eyes again, and the woman’s eyes were no longer sharp with concern, but soft and concerned.
“You’re finest,” She repeated, “Are you alright?”
“Y-yeah,” Emily said, shaking her pulsing head, she held out her hand, and the woman dropped the coin pouch into her palm. “Of course! Coming right up.”
Emily counted the coins, she was floored when all them turned out to be gold. It was enough to buy the tavern twice over. She went to the back and retrieved a bottle of wine, one that a prominent Crusader had left behind before departing. If there was anyone worth drinking it, it was this woman.
Emily lay the glass on the table, along with her best glass, she poured it expertly. The amber eyes followed the deep crimson wine as it filled the cup. She took it then, carefully and pulling her crape out in front of her, slowly drinking.
“ Magnifique,” She praised, her eyes opening again to strike Emily’s directly. “Pray have some with me?” She asked.
Any rational or exhausted thought Emily had to refuse, left her. This woman had spent a lot of gold for that bottle, and so far had been exceedingly polite, despite the late hour.
What’s the harm? Emily reasoned, sitting opposite of the woman. She in turn poured for her with great expertise.
Taking the far more simple tankard in hand, she gently cheered with the woman.
Emily drank shallowly. Long had she and Lena been waiting to sell this bottle of wine, coveted as it was. This woman had more than met the price and should be rewarded for it.
The sad part was that Emily hated wine. And though donated by a venerated Crusader, crushed soured grapes still tasted the same to her. Her grimace must have showed, because the other woman laughed behind her crape. The sound measured and regal as it was beautiful.
“Not to your tastes?”
Emily shrugged, “Not one for wine, I think.”
“Understable,” the woman said, “Everyone has their own tastes.”
Emily nodded, forcing down another drink of the wine. “Do you have business here?” She meant the town, but it came out more about the tavern.
“Somewhat,” The woman replied. “I’m on the way back home, but with the dark of night I needed something to strengthen my resolve. I’ve heard of this establishment, you and your husband are well-renowned, even in higher circles.”
Emily’s eyes widened, “Truly?”
The woman’s eyes glittered with a smile, “Truly, even the highest of lords hear tell of you and your…sister,” She said quietly. “All the high borns consider arriving to elope with you both away from here and your husbands.”
The implication made Emily uncomfortable, not that she was unused to it, but she laughed in response, “That’s generous, but we’re happy where we’re at.”
Wanting to change the subject, “May I ask why you are dressed so?” She took another swig of the bitter wine.
The woman considered for a moment, before reaching to her sleeve, pulling it up revealed blue skin, “An affliction I’m afraid,” She said. “Any who see me would call me a corpse. It is…unsettling to many, so I wear all of this to cover my skin. Otherwise, it serves well to dissuade any who would accost me as I travel.”
Emily felt her heart pained for this woman, without thinking she grasped one of her gloved hands with her own. It was the fault of the wine, but the other woman didn’t seem perturbed by it, in fact, she seemed…pleased by the action.
“No one should have to hide who they are to satisfy others,” Emily said. “Everyone has a right to exist as they are.”
The amber eyes softened at the words, and the gloved hands reached around and squeezed hers.
It was a tender moment, one Emily basked in, until she realized she was holding another woman’s hands, and a powerful one as it was.
“Oh! Forgive me, my lady, I did not-!” Emily made to pull away, but suddenly found the grip around her hand like that of iron. “My-my lady, would you-?”
“I see why Lena loves you,” The woman said, her tone cool. Emily paused, looking up at the woman. Her amber eyes were still warm and entrancing, but now bore a predatory edge to them.
“Wh-what?” She asked.
The other woman finished her glass of wine, “I had reservations about taking you, as I truly only wanted Lena,” She said calmly. “But here you are; so polite, sincere and trusting. Not to mention, you gave me permission.”
“What? Who-who are you?” Emily asked, horrified, and feeling as if she was stuck in place. The strange grip on her soul returned, and with it, very real fear.
The woman reached up with her free hand and took off her crape, revealing a beautiful face with icy blue skin, and a delicate smile, framed by twin unnatural fangs.
“Amélie LaCroix nee Guillard,” She explained, “The Vampire who turned me was the one who forced me to kill my husband. And until I met Lena, I was certain I’d be alone for the rest of my life.”
She finished the wine and licked her lips, “So you’ll understand my desire to have her back by my side.”
Raising Emily’s hand, she pressed a cool kiss to the knuckles. It embarrassed the woman to note that she didn’t hate the sensation, and despite the fear she felt, she was enraptured by the unnatural woman before her.
“How…could Lena leave you?” She asked, not realizing she was speaking aloud.
Amélie assessed her with a quick glance, before placing more cool kisses up her wrist.
“I’ve wondered the same thing for these last two years. I thought at first she left for you, waiting at home, is this true?” She asked, but Emily couldn’t even think about lying when the answer came out unbidden.
“No, I met Lena just after she left your side,” She breathed out, it left her breathless.
“Hmm,” Amélie hummed, kissing up Emily’s arm. The coolness of her lips wasn’t discomforting, if anything, it made Emily’s head go dizzy and made her body flush with guilty desire. “Did Lena miss me?”
“Yes,” Emily said in a gasping moan. “She dreams of you…often. She won’t say it, but I know she regrets leaving you.”
Emily gasped again, feeling as though her thoughts were being robbed from her mind by her own breath. And this woman was causing it.
“You truly are honest, ma petit renard, ” Amélie mused. “Do you love Lena?”
“Yes!” Emily all-but shouted. Groaning as the pale woman kissed up her arm. “More than life…ah!” She gasped as Amélie arrived at her bicep.
Amélie glanced up, her eyes no-less sharp, but far more sedate and calm.
“Be careful with that phrasing,” Amélie breathed against Emily’s arm. “Might just be true.”
Emily was losing her senses now. Her mind was a storm of alcohol, lust, fear and guilt, and her body was enduring more torturous contrasts. Amélie’s cool kisses fueling more of the heat at Emily’s throat and head.
“Do…whatever you want to me,” Emily gasped weakly, “Just…don’t hurt Lena, please.”
Amélie paused, then lay a cool kiss to her lower shoulder, “My precious Emily, I’m not going to kill you,” She hissed gently, her lips pressing on her collarbone, a cool hand brushing her hair behind her ear. “You are an innocent in all this. Had it worked as I planned Lena would be back with me, and you would be unaware.”
Emily felt a spark of anger at that, but was unable to voice it. Amélie chuckled, kissing the edge of her neck.
“However, I’m glad Lena escaped and I’m here instead. You my dear are more than a delight, and while I intended to make you bait, now I think you’ll be prized within my household,” She promised darkly against Emily’s throat, her breath warm, but her skin cold. Emily tried, but couldn’t turn away. She almost didn’t want to. “And should the worse come to pass, you’ll make a fine consort if she fades to the wind.”
“She’ll come for me!” Emily protested, Amélie smiled against her neck.
“I know.”
Emily couldn’t see her, but she could sense the fangs near her neck. She didn’t feel pain when they entered her, but a warm and pleasant glow that encompassed her. It was like the euphoria after Lena brought her to climax, but without the physical element. Her soul felt rejuvenated from that bite.
Whether she screamed, moaned or fought, she didn’t know. All the redhead knew was that she was being carried in strong, cool arms, a blanket wrapped around her, and a warm haze in the night.
She realized it was the tavern lit aflame and burning to the ground. Instead of pain or outrage, Emily felt a nostalgic sense of loss, and a growing anticipation for what awaited her.
Before she lost consciousness, she considered what an odd thought and feeling that was.
So long as Lena comes, I’ll call it home. She thought as the darkness took her.
Amélie meanwhile smiled as she carried her new thrall away from the burning tavern, gazing into the night as if she could see Lena coming home.
“I’ll be waiting for you, ma cherie. ”