Private Tales For Now and Evermore

[Kerrick Vandergard]

The Forest of Evermore... It was a name Kerrick found he related to, one he found fitting for the two of them to step outside of the quiet little haven they'd found for themselves in the bedroom and into the waiting world at large. Evermore, just as his life seemed to be, twisted and expanded by the curse of night that birthed the fangs in his mouth, the thirst for blood in his heart, and the pallor to his flesh. Evermore, just as her beauty seemed to be, nigh a single sign of age upon flawless elven skin that glowed in the thin rays of sunlight that dared break through the treetops to find them.

Her.

Only a week ago, Kerrick had lived the isolated lifestyle that he'd chosen for himself when he broke from his kind, leaving the warrens behind and emerging out from hiding into the hostile land of those who looked down upon the creatures of the night. It was not a happy lifestyle, but Vandergard did not seek happiness. All that he wished for was peace; With himself and his actions, with his existence and how it affected those around him. Loneliness was a burden he could carry. Guilt? It had been much more difficult.

To believe that one woman, with hair of flaming scarlet and ears as sharp as knives, could so effortlessly rid him of both guilt and loneliness in only a night... It proved only that there was much about the world even one as ageless as he did not understand. Maveriel Valthoras knew so little about Kerrick, and he so little of her. And yet, only a scant few days after meeting, they'd found themselves as lovers, unable to deny the magnetic attraction they felt so strongly towards one another.

In Maveriel, Kerrick saw life, burning so beautifully bright that he was drawn to it like a moth to flame. Not with the desire to extinguish it, merely to bask in it. Basked he had, more than a day they'd spent holed up alone, expending themselves upon one another, speaking their feelings not through words, but through touch. As difficult as it had been to pull themselves from that bliss, Kerrick now admitted to himself that he was glad they did. Watching the elf, as she carefully treaded through the tall grass and brush of the forest floor, her garb in the setting it was meant to be worn in, her hair like fire in the sun... It was a beauty he could not see from the comfort of a bed.

Valthoras was made for the forest, as most elves were. Kerrick? Well...

The Vampire tightened his coat around his body, securing the hood over his head as he followed close behind his lover. The canopy overhead broke the sunlight, but it still drained him of his energy, little by little. For now, he was fine, but he could not withstand the day for long hours at a time the way Maveriel could. Vandergard stuck to the shadows, walking in the shade cast by the tall trees surrounding them whenever possible. It was strange, though... every time he looked over at Mave, he didn't feel tired in the slightest.

"You know..." Kerrick muttered, a smirk on the corner of his lips as he leaned forward to allow his words to roll off the back of his companion's nape. "You've yet to enlighten me as to what exactly the prey of this 'hunt' is, Maveriel. My curiosity is killing me, you know..."

Valthoras didn't strike him as the type to prey on harmless game. Surely, they sought something more combative, something with a bite. Something that would bring them effort and sweat, that they could revel in their victory over when the moonlight returned, something Maveriel had made it clear she intended to do with him just the same as the last night.

"...Is this something so meager you will be taking it down on your lonesome? Or will I be allowed to participate?"

Maveriel Valthoras

 

[Maveriel Valthoras]

Strange, the things you remember…

She thought as she walked across the land. Grass stretched upward toward her shins, tall enough for her fingers to curl within, long enough to bend as they did. Leaves blew in the wind, fallen from treetops further above, as crown after crown of sylvan royalty surrounded this woman. The forest was kind enough to bid her in, give her entrance, permit her to step its breadth, and Mave listened with grace.

The people…the places…

There were so many forests in this world. A number of them looked similar. Others were different. None of them were the same, however. Whether sunlit woodland where the sun greets the trees of the forest more than it peeks, with green leaves all but hugged by warm rays.

The moments in time burned into your heart forever while others fade into the mist…

Amid this embrace, there were darker woods, if moonlit, where leaves were thin and branches danced to the murmur of ghosts over a river. Yet, among the giants whose roots sit in days ancient, where souls rest in the soil and the songs of tribes exist as echoes, even these stark differences painted the same image, coiled like a snake in a cycle of nature's fate.

I’ve always known I lived a life different from other women…

For a woman like Maveriel Valthoras, it didn’t matter if summer enveloped the rainforest to the point that its birds chirped, its critters sang and its creatures danced, or if the forest was frozen over with snow, and the sky had no sunlight for it was crisp white.

Different, even, from my own elven kindred spirits…

It didn’t matter if the jungle was filled with adventure that left the adventurer exhausted, or if the woods were possessed with hooded cultists and haunted. Whether the trees were breathing or withering, at this very moment, just give her trees.

Take her away from the bed, despite its silence and its peace, where Maveriel Valthoras and Kerrick Vandergard had bonded over and over again. While it was their choice, and Mave may have stayed there all day, just listened to his voice and touched his skin, kissed his lips ripe as his eyes, eyes grey as moonlight on fog’s horizon, she needed noise. She needed wind on her skin, sunlight on her face, and the kind of bonding that only hunting can bring.

We all have a choice. And I have made it.

Kerrick spoke. Mave listened but she did not give him her attention. She simply walked onward; quietly, nimbly, the way a woman of her species knows when it comes to an environment like this. It was alive but not lively like a city. Even the town at their backs was a distant memory. She made sure to navigate her partner into the shade, under the canopy, away from the sun as much as she could, as they walked the woods.

“The Forest of Evermore,” she reflected. “Rather poetic, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for his answer as she brushed a lock of hair back to the nape of her neck. Mave had her armor amid her outfit: silver plate here and there with a grey cloak over a green surcoat, but the hood was lowered, and her red hair showed in all its scarlet waves.

“Yet rumor has it that this forest is also home to some of the deadliest creatures ever to exist in this dangerous world.” She wondered what kind of beasts Kerrick had taken, what monsters he had slain in his days. “I speak of…” Biting her lip, she stopped her walk, turned his way, gave him her attention. “...Squirrels.” She grinned.

“Kidding. We are hunting wargs; a fierce breed of wolves, vicious by nature, rumored to have been twisted into existence by nefarious means. To start with, however.” She adjusted the bow and quiver on her back. Sword on her hip, she was ready for this. “I want to get the measure of your caliber. First we find wild boars. That is the warg’s favorite prey.” She stepped closer. “Unless you prefer to hunt the boar and called it a day.” Close enough to kiss his face.

Kerrick Vandergard

 

[Kerrick Vandergard]

Even now, out of the warm, comforting embrace of the silken sheets of their bed and out in the whistling winds that weaved in and out of the city of trees like yarn weaving cloth, she taunted him. Every act Maveriel made seemed at least in part meant to garner some response form him, to bring a boil to his cold blood. More often than not, she succeeded. As her face hung only inches from his own, lips begging to be claimed once more, Kerrick forgot about is disdain for the sunlight, and the constant itch on the back of his neck reminding him of his thirst.

"I would propose that I've already given you ample display of my measure." Kerrick purred, eyes as dark and grey as a storm, with the spark of lightning behind them every time they met hers, glimmering off of the steel of her armor. "But if you wish to see a creature of the night hunt his prey, I'm not going to disappoint you." And there was a time when Mave could have been considered such prey. The hot blood in her veins only naturally called to him, after all. What other outcome could one expect?

Passion, or something beyond it that Vandergard could not place. Maveriel was no longer a lesser to him, no longer something that he could ever feasibly feast upon. In the eyes of the Vampire, the beautiful elf had become something equally as otherworldy as he. Divine, full of life more endless than an ocean and more powerful than an army.

And Gods both above and below, he craved her.

"Though I think there's little in this forest that could be considered dangerous or deadly." He continued, running his tongue along his bottom lip, showing well the fangs he sported as he allowed his body to meet hers, his arms to slink around her waist like the serpent he very well could be. "Not when you and I occupy it. We are the opposite ends; the peaks of both life and death. With you by my side, in my arms... Not even the sun could hope to quell my fury."

To stay here, in the embrace of Evermore, and revel in her again... It would be boon. But there was blood that called to him, flesh to be rended and a hunt to be embarked upon. Even a creature of the dead could not ignore the call.

"Yesterday, we were lovers. Two souls melded into one, perfectly fitting like the turning cogs of a machine. But today..." His words were but a hot whisper against her lips, grazing them with ever movement. "I am your weapon."

Lips finally met hers, as he growled into her mouth.

"Loose me upon this Warg and watch him end."

Maveriel Valthoras

 

[Maveriel Valthoras]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Was there pleasure in this for her? Perhaps. To know how much his thirst burned within this sunlit forest even amid those shadows. Was it punishment for the crimes he had committed in his old life? Perhaps not. A repentant man, vampire or otherwise, did he deserve a second chance in this life? Who was Maveriel Valthoras to judge this one?

She was no one in comparison. Just a woodland elf. Sure, she delivered justice where she considered it fit for her sword, but maybe the rays of sunlight split between the canopy of these trees were judgment enough as they stung like blades if her significant other ever lifted his face.

Of course, Kerrick just had to twist her words at the mention of ‘measure’. Oh, he had another member beyond his sword, were that piece a part of his equipment, and truly he had given her much and more the previous evening. Also the following morning. They had given each other their flesh and hearts as much as skin and blood. Perhaps not literally for the latter, however, fortunately for Valthoras.

For Vandergard? Maybe he needed somebody like this elven lady to keep him company in the world, to treat him the way he needed to be treated, beyond some dumb girl; not so quickly discriminated against like that idiot in the tavern when they had first met. After all, could one blame the warg for wanting to tear into the boar as its prey? Yet this vampire was no wild beast. He was just as much a man and, if anyone dared contend with that assessment, this woman would tell them different. Kerrick had proven his manhood more than once and she had loved every second of it.

Then again, maybe Mave hadn’t deliberately brought Kerrick to this forest just to test his endurance under the sun but as much to taunt him over the other hunger that burned within him against her flesh; what lurked beneath her skin; the blood that pumped. He wanted it as much as he wanted her body, over and over again, only she could return just one of those sentiments.

Even now, Mave was tempted to drop her armor, do away with her garments, make this creature of the night consider her as his prey this morning, force her against a tree and just have his way with her. At that moment, as Kerrick gave her his gaze, she felt that same rush of blood within her, and beneath her armor her chest grew fuller, though he wouldn’t notice it.

Even as his tongue escaped his lips, baring his teeth as if to seize her neck between those protruded fangs and bite like a bat, stirring fear within her alongside fervor, he wouldn’t notice her bosom as her chest pressed against his.

Yet he might notice another fire rise within her, like a predator smelling its prey, feeling its heartbeat quicken, breathing getting faster, chest rising. With his hands gliding past her hips, blood filled the vessels of her pelvis, muscles tightened, and if he kissed her right there and then or, hell, bit her neck, she wouldn’t fight it.

You are gone. A voice inside her mind that was hers but wasn’t uttered just then. I am lost.

She wanted to call him a bastard just then. The nerve, calling them on opposite ends, life and death, as if either might burn the other in a heartbeat just for being. Not even the sun… Mave might scoff. What about my fury? Yet she did not. All she wanted was to take him under the sun and show him how ferocious a woman could be once again, that she didn’t need to be a vampire, because she was fire.

He teased her lips with his own, making her close her eyes, tilting her head to the sunlight like a creature does when it yearns for warmth; and his lips were cold, his countenance pallid, but that difference was just an amalgamation of excitement and wonder for her, not a contradiction to be swept aside.

Finally, just when Mave was ready to give Kerrick the knee, they kissed. He growled into her mouth. Trees surrounded them, swaying in the sweet breeze, indifferent to man and woman. Loose him upon this warg, he beckoned, commanded, but she rescinded.

“Oh…Kerrick…” She broke their kiss for a moment, cradling his gaze, eyes into eyes. Unable to resist, Mave sank a hand into the side of his pants, gripping his hip and skin, cradled his face with her other fingers, as the forest forgot its own existence, gave itself to their bliss, and they had only themselves within it. “...You are already free…” She kissed his lips, lowered hers, bit his chin. “...Take me…” The warg could wait. The war within Mave, however, could no longer be contained.

Kerrick Vandergard

 

[Kerrick Vandergard]

Tempting. How incredibly tempting it was... To cast aside this hunt they'd embarked upon and to make Maveriel his prey of choice for the evening. She was ready for him-- The Vampire could tell from the heat of her blood as she grew excited, the shiver of her spine as he sent waves of need through her body and into her core. It was an aching space, one only he had ever filled so perfectly to make such a powerful elven warrior practically plead for more.

Kerrick felt her hand, so dangerously close to that which she had so powerful a craving for, felt the heat of her lips as she claimed his own time and time again, each with more searing need, more unbridled desire than the one before. Vandergard felt himself come alive, felt those parts of him that he'd thought long dead reinvigorate at her touch, at the way she so forwardly asked to be made his again, right here in this Forest of Evermore.

And the Vampire shook his head.

"You musn't get too greedy now, love." The creature of the night pressed a soft, yet oh-so-dangerous kiss to the side of Valthoras' neck, teasing her flesh with the very tips of his teeth without breaking her skin. His words were but a whisper, and his hands debaucherously weaved underneath her armor, teasing her supple, sensitive backside with sharply-pointed claws. "If I wished to repeat our last day together, I'd have not left that room with you. As much as I crave you, as much as I wish for nothing more than to feel you unravel around me once more, this day is for the hunt."

Kerrick pulled away, like a serpent uncoiling from its prey, where once a fearsome elven hunter stood was now, temporarily, a beautiful elven woman in need of attention. Kerrick would provide, but life always brought priorities. Sliding his hands into his coat, Kerrick looked towards the canopy. "I hunger for blood, and I shan't leave these trees until I'm sated." A Vampire had needs, and their passion, while glorious, had deprived him of that basic necessity for several days. Certainly, he wasn't about to feed on his new partner, his Scarlet Life.

Vandergard smiled, though, a toothy, sly smirk that spoke to an suffix to his words. "Remember what you told me, Maveriel..." He all but purred. "Today we hunt, but tonight I will return you to your bed..."

Kerrick began to walk, strolling so confidently through the brush as if he already knew where to find this Warg they sought to slaughter. As he passed Maveriel, he leaned in close, whispering into her ear the very words she'd spoke to him.

...And we will fuck.

Maveriel Valthoras

 

[Maveriel Valthoras]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Taunting. Watching this man watch her, feel his gaze bite her eyes like his teeth might if they gave way to her skin. It was a haunting thought, ever since she had first met him, to the moment she had bedded him. The night they met in that tavern, O how her heart had burned like the fire in her eyes, first as embers, then bright as sunlight.

Like then, she didn’t know what might happen from one moment to the next, where time might take Maveriel Valthoras and Kerrick Vandergard, and that was par for the course. That was part of the chorus in this song of two hearts entangled in a dance like they had been on that tavern floor.

Just as much, they were a man and a woman in a battle of the mind, day and night. Mave and Kerrick. To rewind time and to have never met, which was its own temptation, well, hell with it, she wouldn’t dare it.

Maybe he had cast a spell on her already. Might be this was the vampire’s incantation and he was just this elf’s captivation. Maybe that was the heat rushing through her body against her better senses that evening and this morning. Perhaps she really was already lost like a wind and the forest was gone like this chorus given to the violin.

His skin, soft and cold all at once, like snow under a moonlight touch, warmed before her fingers beneath the sunlit canopy, bidding and begging. Oh, Valthoras could inch her fingers just a little more and Vandergard’s steel would be as brittle as iron. His skin was already hers, as hers was his, and if his blood was also hers then was not her own blood his?

That was a deeper question, perhaps, and one that beckoned an answer. Yet the elven woman did not want to get lost in thoughts of right or wrong, better or worse, what should be or couldn’t be. Despite the war within her, driven like a knife between the ribs, she just wanted him. Wasn’t that enough as they kissed? As her fingers slipped to his hip to cradle him like a fable that would never last.

Lips on lips, then lips on neck, as Kerrick tasted Mave’s flesh with the tips of his fangs. That sent a shiver up her spine, shifted her chest closer to his, and she dared not open her eyes in fear of this morning becoming night. One bite. One inch. Sink your teeth in and that’s it. One grip. Would that be punishment? Or would that give this aimless woman of the woodland some new purpose?

“Love…” The word escaped her lips in that same faint whisper as his. Mave might have whispered further, might have uttered her resistance against those teeth that teased her skin, but didn’t. Couldn’t. The moment she felt his fingers slip down the back of her pants and grip her bottom, she almost lost it, giving into his grip and shifting beneath him. It was a zone that showed he wanted it as he taunted this woman.

And, like the bastard he was, he pulled away with his words. He said as much: that he craved her; but his hunt was on a different kind of flesh. Maybe it always was. Mave let her mind drift as their bodies shifted and split, and she opened her eyes to take in his with the faintest grin on her lips. The night we met.

He hungered for blood. But not hers.

She was silent, still engulfed in that lull of limbs intertwined, and never mind the wine or the juice when it came to the nectar of him and her; Mave was almost lethargic as she slowly shook her head with a grin that didn’t quit. Her eyes were in his, refusing to stand down even as her hands had, and the man and woman stood their ground.

His words became a whisper, his whisper a purr, and suddenly his hunger for her and thirst for blood no longer mattered. The hunt for the warg and its better was like a worm to a bird. Only he had better know that his words were a promise.

“Hunt for your blood, Kerrick,” she whispered back just as he turned away toward the brush. “Or return to dust,” she teased after her words he repeated. Or did she? Perhaps it was a sting of sadness and pity Maveriel felt just then, knowing that what she needed to eat and drink was different to him, for Kerrick was at the mercy of his curse. And I am a woman cursed to him. For better or worse remained to be determined.

Kerrick Vandergard

 

[Kerrick Vandergard]

It wasn't lost on Kerrick the hefty weight of the four letter word he'd used. Love and lust were distinctly different beasts, even a fool could tell you so. Last night, as they'd tumbled against one another time and time again, a mess of limbs and sheets and sweat, they'd embodied the latter. That they were in the Forest of Evermore today, though still together without the walls of a bedroom to contain their mutual frenzy, hinted at something different, something more.

Was it, as the vampire had so boldly hinted toward, a feeling of true adoration for this elven beauty? Had Valthoras so quickly warmed a heart that had been frozen in ice for more than a century? If anyone could do it, certainly the fiery heat of The Red Wind was the one. Or was this wishful thinking? Did Kerrick wish himself to be in love with a mortal? That she might deliver him some sort of release from the monotony and dread that comprised his accursed life.

Vandergard knew not the answer, and he didn't wish it revealed to him. Not yet, anyways.

He didn't need to know the truth to enjoy the way Maveriel melted against his touch, the way her body begged for his against her own will. In truth, he would have preferred to bend her against the nearest oak and add her cries of bliss to the symphony of nature that already filled these trees, but his tongue was parched, and his stomach empty of what it needed most.

And despite his nature, he could not bring himself to tarnish the beauty who'd warmed his bed and body.

"Only so long as you are beside me, my darling." He looked back at her with a smirk, crooking a finger for her to follow. "I would not traverse these woods without my Scarlet Life to guide me. I so eagerly wish to see you track our prey."

The brush was thick, and Kerrick knew not the layout of the forest. Were it not for Mave's expertise in tracking, he would wound up lost rather quickly. This was her world, far removed from his own; the prey of a Vampire was most often found in civilization, rather than in nature. It was why the idea of such a hunt had intrigued Kerrick so: To see Valthoras doing what he could not, to watch her as she lived, as she exercised her prowess, it was perhaps nearly as invigorating as the sight of her wrapped only in sheer bedsheets had been.

Nearly, but not quite.

"Once we've found our warg..." Kerrick muttered from close behind his companion, breath hot against the back of her neck. "I can follow its scent, wherever it tries to flee. Though, if you're half the woman I think you to be..." A smirk rested upon his lips, and a hand slid slowly up her back, to rest upon the side of her neck. "It won't have time to run."

Maveriel Valthoras