A OneShot
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He couldn't quite believe his luck standing in the same room as the impossibly beautiful witch. Of course, the evening's events had been even more preposterous.
His master storming The Underground Vampire City of Sydney had been an act one could only describe as insanity. (Which as it turned out was a rather accurate way of describing his master). The storming followed by then demanding gifts? Also insane.
Apparently his master had a longstanding dispute with the Vampire Master of Sydney, known simply as Julian. His master had decided this evening he would take an opportunity to terrorise the city of vampires in retribution for some slight or other. His master had decided that after storming the underground city, he would then make demands of the city in atonement. This was evidently more insanity, but who was he to question his master?
It didn't stop there of course, additional insanity ensued when his master demanded Romulus also be given a gift. He was a guard, muscle, somebody you didn't pay attention to. It had shocked him when his master had asked Julian for a gift for him. When the Master of Sydney had turned to him and asked Romulus what he had wanted, he couldn't contain his surprise.
Romulus had given this some thought - it wasn't often one was able to obtain a gift from a master vampire, and so he wracked his brain for what he could possibly want. Money, land, jewels? Not interested. Weapons? He had plenty of those.
Every time his mind drew back to the beautiful woman he had encountered at the entrance of The Underground. She had no idea who he was or what his reputation was, but when they had stormed the city, she stood ready to fight him. Julian had called her 'Lena'.
Lena
, beautiful hazel eyes, gorgeous auburn hair, the most flawless face, pouty full lips and a body a man could lose himself in.
He was stunned by her strength, grace and sheer beauty. She was resplendent in the way only witches could be. His mind continuously drew back to her, and that's how he found himself asking for the witch. Specifically, just one night with
her
.
He should have felt horrified asking for an evening alone with a woman he had no acquaintance with. Did he really think she would come to him willingly?
Of course, he was not the sort of man to force himself onto a woman. The chances were low that she would accept, even lower that she would join him in bed of her own choice. In fact, he suspected they might simply spend the evening talking. Romulus steeled himself for that possibility and found he didn't mind the idea of spending an entire evening just talking to her. She had the kind of face one could watch for hours.
Still, a small part of him hoped she might want to enjoy his touch.
He wasn't ugly by any means. He just clearly wasn't a city vampire, unlike those of Julian's clan. All of them were handsome or beautiful, attractive, sensual. She would have her choice of such appealing men. She would not have a need for someone like him.
Previous lovers had called him 'rugged', 'angular', and on one occasion, 'chiselled'. Romulus suspected the striking witch would hardly be moved to fits of desire over
rugged
.
Yet here they both were, and that must have meant something. She had at least agreed to spend the evening in the same room. She stood at the entrance of the door, tentative and shy. He had hoped she had come of her own choice, but knew it was more than likely that Julian had persuaded her or even forced her hand.
He wanted to set her at ease, and so stood and nodded to her and tried to think of something kind or normal to say.
How did people speak these days?
"Good evening," he said softly. That seemed right, or in the very least, polite.
"Hi," Lena stepped forward into the room, and arm crossed over her body, hand clasping her other wrist.
"Thank you for joining me this evening,"
The witch simply nodded, her hazel eyes surveying the room. When they came to rest on Romulus, he was pleased to notice she didn't seem repulsed or angry like he thought she might have been. Lena seemed curious, which was a place he could work from. Maybe she might let him touch her after all.
"Can I get you a refreshment?" he offered to the tray next to him, "tea, brandy...?"
"Wine," she made unwavering eye-contact with the vampire, and walked closer, taking a seat on the lounge, "the pinot noir will do," she nodded towards the dark bottle next to the brandy.
"Of course," he fixed her a glass as she made herself comfortable on the lounge. Romulus leaned to hand her the glass, which she accepted with both hands, her warm fingers brushing his large ones. He marvelled at how such a sensation sent desire right through him.
Romulus took a seat opposite her, watching her take a sip of the wine and relaxing back into the couch. Lena seemed peculiarly confident and relaxed for someone who had potentially been coerced into the situation. He berated himself, he should not have done it this way, he should have asked for something else. She must have been sickened by the sight of him; he was more beast than man. Of course if she was disgusted she hid it well. But then, Romulus supposed, when you were around vampires, you had to get good at masking your true feelings. He had learnt that the hard way.
"So, Romulus," she started, and then paused "Can I call you Romulus? Or do you prefer another name?"
"Romulus is appropriate"
She smiled, something had amused her, he wasn't sure what but was relieved to see her smile.
"Romulus," she repeated, "I'm surprised I'm here."
"As am I," he couldn't stop himself. His answer seemed to shock her. She cocked her head to the side, gaze assessing him.
Romulus wondered what she was thinking in that head of hers, and what she saw when she looked at him. Possibly the same thing everyone saw, a tall, fierce warrior, no doubt horrified by the array of scars and tattoos which she would be able to see peeking out of the top of his shirt and covering his hands. At least his face didn't have too many of those, he supposed. Just two thin scars trailing from brow to cheekbone, where a sword had cut him so long ago.
The attacker's intention had been to blind him, but luckily his assailant was not as good an aim as he, and instead got the side of his face just missing the eye. He watched her assessment carefully, not detecting any sense of disgust or horror.
"Why are you surprised?" she finally asked after a long pause, "You asked for me, didn't you?"
"I mean to say, I'm surprised you agreed to come."
"I suppose," she nodded and smiled a curious little half smile which tugged at the corner of her mouth, "I guess I was just intrigued by you. I'm curious about the kind of man who uses his chance to get anything, and I mean anything, from the master of a city, and decides he wants to spend an evening with a woman he hardly knows. A witch no less."
He nodded, watching her as she continued to talk.
"You know you could have asked for money, or a position or a small country's worth of cheese." She finished, one shapely eyebrow raised at him.
"I don't have much use for cheese."
