The arrangement

[Ycharley]

@Syrrus


Lucina sat at her vanity with a sigh. She ran her fingers gently over the cool marble top as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was all dressed up in white, her pale blonde hair pulled back in an elegant updo, and her porcelain skin flawless. A handmaiden sat behind her, carefully adjusting her veil. She didn't want to get married, she hadn't even met the man she was expected to spend the rest of her life with. All she knew about him was he was a vampire of high royal standing. For all she knew he could be hideous, he could have been a monstrosity yet she would be expected to find happiness with the man.


"Leave me," She spoke, waving off the handmaiden. She needed time alone. She looked around her grand room. She would miss that room, she would miss her own space. She could feel tears burning her eyes as she thought about leaving her home, leaving everything she had ever known. Of course she knew this would happen, she had been raised her entire life being prepared to be pawned off. Still, it was a lot different when it was happening.


She gave one last glance in the mirror, looking at her own crimson eyes. She would have to be strong, she would have to make her family proud. She stood, turning and made her way out of her room. She stopped at the door, giving one last glance over her shoulder at her old life, the old life she was being forced to turn her back on. Her mind was buzzing as she made her way through dimly lit hallways. Her skin tingling with memories.


She was getting married, but how could her heart ever belong to that man when it belonged to another? Could the vampire ever compare to her werewolf lover? Would she have to imagine Clement's face in place of her soon to be husbands? She let out a deep sigh as she moved the veil over her face. She was glad that her face was shielded as she made her way down the grand staircase. She held her breath preparing to see the face of the man she would have to spend the rest of her life with.

 

[Syrrus]

Standing by an altar made by the grayest of stone, Valgard Von Drake stared at a non existing being in the dim moonlight which broke through one of the tall windows. His gaze was nothing but unimpressed and his usual curled up smile long since gone. He held his glove decorated hands behind his back, dressed like one would assume from a man of his standards. He was a noble man, a lord and a Vampire, a great mix of possibilities, and known by all. Though a bit different on the inside than what others would assume. He was dressed, as always, in a long black coat, a vest, a fluffed up purple bowtie, a white and neat shirt, as well as black trousers and newly shined shoes. He always dressed this way, though the clothes was hardly what made him feel tense.


Valgard was a proper looking man. A sharp face with a strong jaw, a thin hawk nose, high sitting cheekbones and piercing grey eyes. His hair was neatly slicked back over his skull, some unruly curls touching his neck all too gently. He looked like a sculpture made by God himself, oh the irony. The Lord was hardly someone to mess with, though his gentle creature - again, irony at play - he was a lonely soul he wished nothing but to be left alone. To be left with his poems, piano and violin. Marriage was hardly something he had hoped for, not this early at any rate. Though he was all by himself, no family to speak of. Kissed by the very first vampire and brought to live life forever and eternal.


The idea of marriage had not come from himself, but a dear friend who spoke of a young girl. Valgard had accepted, without a second thought - to end the gossip about his bachelor life once and for all - not expecting that the day would have come so soon. The thought of guests had also slipped his mind and he suddenly started to feel rather frustrated. This was not what he had hoped for. A quick ceremony, a toast and then back to his study - to his beloved work and passion of his mansion. Why others made such a deal of marriage surprised him gravely, it wasn't as if a vampire could receive the blessing of a child, or treasuring notion of a never ending lineage. He would live with his wife, until the day he either found someone to give the nights kiss - to further his legacy - or until the swift wings of death ended it all. There was no family to be had, not in the mortal traditional way anyhow.


Valgard's eyes fell to the side, on a woman moving down the stairs; dressed like a bride would be. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat and straightened out his back, as well as polishing his coat - to look presentable. "Here we go." He mumbled, under his breath.

 

[Ycharley]

She saw her soon to be husband as she turned the corner and felt her breath catch. He was stunning. That was a relief, as vain as it was, as vain as it made her feel, his pleasantness to the eyes would make her unwanted commitment easier. She quickly regained her composure. As her feet touched the landing the small orchestra started to play a wedding march. She matched her steps with the beat of the music, slow and steady. She could feel the eyes of the guest on her form. She cast quick side glances at the countless guests. It seemed they were more excited than she was.


Her exquisite gown seemed to draw the eyes of many as well. Her dress was made of the finest silks and lace and as white as snow. The train of her dress was long, almost to the point of it being excessive. Two handmaidens walking behind her to guarantee it didn't catch on anything. The corset was the grandest part of he dress though. The corset embroidered with silver thread and adorned with diamonds, even then it wasn't the grandest part of her outfit. Her necklace was the show stopper. A large ruby the same color of her eyes hung down resting right above the slight cleavage that showed.


It seemed that it took no time at all to walk the length of the aisle. Soon she found herself face to face with the man that would be her husband. What caught her eye was his eyes, they were such a gray, that they were nearly mesmerizing. She waited for the man to pull back her veil with patience, half hoping he would decide against their communion at the last moment. She didn't even realize that she had clenched her fists, she didn't feel the slight pain of her nails digging into her palm. All her concentration was on breathing, keeping herself together, and trying to focus on the ceremony. The quicker it went, the quicker it was over.

 

[Syrrus]

He watched his bride step forwards. Peering at the long white cloth as it moved across the cold floor. He couldn't say he knew how to great her. A smile, with two sharp fangs was all he could muster. A marriage of his kin was different from the one of mortals. He would move her veil, which he did. Stopping for a second. His eyes got caught in hers, his hands stopped mid way and he simply stood there, a bit dumbfounded. It wasn't his luck to - without even knowing it - be able to web himself to such a beautiful woman. His thought about marriage snapped him back into reality and he did was he was meant to do, remove her veil and continue with the empty words of comfort.


The words were poetic enough to get his full attention, and respect. His voice was deep, strong though had a sly growlyness to it as if he has enjoyed a few forty-chain-smokes a day, in his life time. He spoke the words as if he had done so a million times. Promising that 'I'll be your wine' and 'with this hand I will lift your sorrows'. All the classic ways of giving a promise of a long lasting life together, with a woman he did not even know.


With a golden dagger which he pulled off the altar, he cut himself over the palm of his hand, dripping grey-spotted blood into a gold decorated wineglass. Blood he had stolen recently from a mortal lady not too long ago, for this exact purpose.


"I ask you, to be mine." He said, sternly as he held out the glass towards her. She would drink his stolen blood, become a part of him. Before his lips would touch hers.

 

[Ycharley]

Lucina found it odd, as she looked up into the man's face, how easily he said such words to her. The man didn't even know her, did he even know her name? She didn't know, really she didn't care. She didn't know his name and she didn't really care to know it. Of course, she had no choice. She stared up into his piercing gray eyes as he spoke words that should only be spoken to someone you love. In the moment, they were hollow and worthless. How could the man lift her sorrows if he didn't even know what they were? How could he make such promises if he didn't know the first thing about her? For all they knew they could end up hating each other, not being able to stand one another.


She wished she had the resolve to say no. She wished she had the heart to run away and be able to bear the shame that would bring her, but, of course, she didn't. Lucina placed her hands over his, her delicate fingers finding nor giving any worth with her new husbands. She guided the cup to her lips slowly, praying for some type of miracle. Praying that someone would bust through the door and object to the wedding, object with some logical reason so she wouldn't have to go through with it.


She drank a small amount of the blood from the ceremonial glass. The blood staining her lips red. Of course, she knew marrying one of her kind was for the best. She didn't want to have to watch someone she cared for grow old and die. Not to mention mortals had children, something she could never give to Clement. She slowly looked up at the man from under her thick lashes.


She knew what was coming up, the worst part of the whole ordeal. The long anticipated kiss. She prepared herself as the "you may now kiss your bride" was said. She felt her body stiffen. It wasn't that the man was unattractive, he was the opposite. No, it was she simply did not know the man and she wasn't the type to go around kissing strangers.

 

[Syrrus]

A kiss meant nothing, he kissed women almost every night, mortal women - but women none-the-less. The fact that he had to touch lips with a young lady who would become his mattered very little to him as well. He knew her not, he had only agreed to get people off his back, so he could return to what he once used to do without being judged. He was a lord, for Death's sake, why in hell did he had to justify anything he wished to do? With a slight frown upon his brow he leaned down, two hands gently curling around the woman's face and with closing grey eyes he lightly touched her lips with his own. It was a kiss with fangs, something he surely wasn't used to. It even made him flinch slightly, though what had he expected? A Vampire without teeth? Hardly.


Moving away, with applauds ringing in his head Valgard returned his hands behind his back, still watching his bride silently. He would indeed lift her sorrows, would it be a light burden to carry. He had his own issues and troubles. The pulsating feeling of thirst, aching in his throat, for example.


They would now have their party, the guests party, for he wished for non. Reaching out his arm towards his bride, awaiting her to take it before walking her towards the ballroom of the great mansion, he wondered if this was truly such a great idea. Her gorgeous eyes prove more to him than any words could possibly do. Her heart belonged to someone else, someone Valgard had now stolen the rights to. One side of his mouth curled up into a sly smirk as he looked away, pulling down his sunglasses from the top of his head, placing them neatly over his eyes to hide the grey with lenses of thick red glass.

 

[Ycharley]

Lucina shuddered as the man's cool lips brushed her own. She found the kiss repulsive. She had grown used to the warm soft lips of Clement, lips she shouldn't ever kiss again. The thought was painful, though, she didn't know if she would be faithful to the man so was now bound to for life. Who said he would be faithful to her? Vampire Lords were known for there sleeping around with mortal women, there lechery. Vampires, in general, had a name for being carnal, but when one lived forever, why not enjoy the pleasures of the flesh?


Lucina reluctantly took his arm, letting him lead her to the ballroom. She was glad her handmaidens had made quick work of securing her train so it wouldn't be in her way. She was sure the Lord would know how to dance, it was something that was all but expected. She cast a glance up at her new husband, thick red lenses shielding his piercing grey eyes with a smirk that simply made her skin crawl. He seemed proud of himself for some unknown reason, or at least a reason she couldn't fathom. Lucina quickly found herself ready for their first dance to be over so she could recluse. She was in no mood for a party, she was in no mood to put up with people who would soon be intoxicated.


She would say she was a patient woman, but she knew she would find it difficult to keep up face in the situation she was in. She wanted to hide in her room, pinch herself and wake up and it all be a dream. She knew she would have to leave her home after the party and live with the man she walked beside. She would be expected to share a bed with the man, the thought made her shiver.


Soon she found herself in the middle of the ballroom facing her husband. She looked up into his face, her crimson eyes lingering there as if trying to figure out a puzzle.