bloody rose

this is a story i wrote to amuse my friends on my lj... however it grew and expanded... and here it
is now!

special thanks to the band elf, zeke, the celtic fairy, the nowegian walrus, my owner (see i can be a good spaniel), the only girl on drumline, hate, legolas, and my chica

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~in the year 1717, 86 rouge vampires emerged from the old country, purging the world of human rule. with the mortals enslaved, vampires and demons feed freely, relishing in the freedom the once lacked. in this world of monsters, i would like to show you that not everything we percieve is black or white, good or evil, friend or foe, right or wrong. for we are humans: fragile, fickle, mortal, temporary. it is our greatest weakness. yet for the brief time we inhabot this earth we possess a potential to mold the things at our disposal into creations of art and beauty. it is talent, masked by weakness. a rose covered in blood~

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Evangeline sat on the small cushioned tuffet in the corner of the large common room. Perfect red ringlets fell about her pale face and down her alabaster shoulders. Her green eyes scanned the crimson notebook as she chewed the end of her black pen. This was the image presented to her husband, Tristan, as he stalked into the room. He peered through his long black hair at her as she thought. Evangeline quietly muttered the last few lines of poetry she had written, searching for the right words to complete the final stanza. Tristan watched, smirking, as her blood red lips moved, her eyes closed, and her sharp canines flashing in the abnormally bright lights. She slumped, frowning, obviously she had not found what she was looking for. Deciding it was time to give her a little insipration, Tristan cleared his throat and moved across the room. Evangeline\'s head snapped up as she heard her husband. Smiling broadly she jumped up to hug him, dropping the notebook on the tuffet behind her. Tristan embraced her warmly, if such a term could be applied to anything thier kind did. Pushing thoughts of the meeting he had just come from away, he tucked his head into her shoulder, inhaling her sweet scent. Evangeline hugged him tighter, realizing he was worried about whatever had just happened. Suddenly she had a wicked thought. Raising herself up onto her tiptoes she quickly sank her fangs deep into his neck. Tristan gasped, the sensation shocking him to the core. She so rarely bit him; it was usually the other way around. Evangeline swallowed a mouthful of his blood before pushing away and running down the hall. Tristan stood for a moment, eyes wide and mouth open, staring in the direction his mate had just gone. He felt the puncture wounds in his neck heal. She had just bitten him. Incredible, he thought, incredible. Sometimes she scared the living hell out of him. Recovering from the little surprise she had given him, he tore off down the hallway. It ony took a few minutes to find her, she didn\'t move to quickly with her full old fashioned skirts. He caught her in the hall outside their quarters, scooping her up and kissing her soundly. She threw her head back and giggled. Tristan turned and kicked the door to thier quarters open, Evangeline still in his arms. The notebook still laid on the tuffet, awaiting thier return the next night.

~*~

Morgana sighed for the seventh time in the past ten minutes. Evangeline and Tristan were supposed to have met her there twenty minutes ago. Sometimes it got so annoying waiting for those two.

\"Shut up! Shut up!\" came Evangeline\'s voice from around the corner. Evangeline giggled as she and a beat-red Tristan rounded the corner. Morgana raised an eyebrow, but she didn\'t dare ask. If it was between those two and Tristan was blushing she probably didn\'t want to know. All her previous anger dissolved away at the sight of them. She never had been one to stay angry, even at the worst offenders.

\"Well, it\'s about time!\" she said in mock exasperation.

\"Oh, Morgana! What time is it? Don\'t tell me we\'re late again?!\"

\"Just slightly,\" Morgana mumbled in response to Evangeline\'s inquiry.

\"Sorry, we just kinda ... well, um, Evangeline, care to explain?\" Tristan shot Evangeline a pleading look, apparently not wanting to have to explain whatever it was.

\"We, um, kind of were found,\" here she paused uncomfortably, \"by Lady Mariah, and, well, you know how she is.\"

Morgana blinked several times, waiting expectantly. When nothing further came, she prodded \"And?\"

\"What?\"

\"What we\'re you doing?\"

\"We were just kissing, really! But the way she yelled you would have thought we were having a massive orgy on the table in the main hall.\" That proved to be too much for Morgana. She collapsed against the wall and laughed so hard tears sprung up in her eyes.

\"Oh, that\'s great!\" she managed to exclaim between gasps and laughs.

\"It\'s not that funny when its happened to you, you know,\" Tristan muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Noticing her husband\'s indignation, Evangeline asked \"So what are we up to tonight?\"

\"Oh, I don\'t know. Any suggestions?\" Morgana smiled in reply.

\"Well i was thinking we could...\" Evangeline\'s comment died in her throat as she saw a guard of the Regent approaching. The Regent was left in place of the High King, Tamaros. Tamaros had died, some said, others said he only slept. But whatever the truth, the power of the Regnet he left behind was not to be questioned. To do so was treachery. The three vampires served the Regent, as her advisors and companions. They knew the purpose of the guard before he even spoke. Her Majesty had commanded them to attend the court. It was nothing new, nothing extraordinary, but it cancelled any other plans for the night.

~*~

Tristan, Evangeline, and Morgana strode across the cold, hollow ground of the cemetary. It was nearly midnight and they were late. Tall marble angels rose up from the overgrown grass on either side of them like the undead rising from thier graves. The only sounds in the night were the creaking of the leather they wore and the clink of the chain at Tristan\'s waist. Their footsteps fell eirily silent on the well wore path. There was only a slight breeze in the warm summer air as the trio made thier way towards the slave auction. As the immeadiate servants to the queen, they were required to oversee all slave auctions held in the area. It was a task that they usually relished, for they also got thier pick of the better slaves and recieved many discounts from the fearful auctioneers; everyone was afriad of the queen. They cleared the graveyard and spotted the small black building where the auction was being held. There were no lights on, and no sound came from the building. As they drew closer they could tell that the windows had been boarded up and the outwardly decrepit building was sound proof. It was a fact that didn\'t escape them once they stepped inside. The scent of fear hung heavy in the air and mingled with the heady perfum and incense ment to arouse the vampire customers. Though even more arousing was the lingering, coppery scent of blood.

Evangeline and Tristan headed up to the auctioneers booth while Morgana browsed amoungst the various booths and temporoary shops set up for just this occasion. There were many other things for sale besides slaves; gold jewelry and rare gems were laid out beside a variety of whips and manacles, and all of it next to booths selling clothes and books. It was one gigantic marketplace, the crowds of vampiric customers wandered about in seemingly aimless circles waiting for the auction to start. Entering the auctioneers booth, Tristan noticed that there was not as many people as he expected. Could it be a elitist auction? They were rare, you usually got better prices out of larger crowds, but, then again, the right buyers and the right merchandise paired together could bring in even more. Evangeline took a seat near the window overlooking the indoor market. One of the auctioneers would meet the there just before the auction began. Tristan looked over to her. Evangeline did not look happy. He grinned, they had been slightly busy when her majesty had summoned them with news of the auction. They had managed to escape court, but the auction had \"slipped\" her majesty\'s mind and a guard came after them within minutes. But now they were in a booth, all alone. His grin widened. He quietly stalked over behind Evangeline and snaked his arms around her, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. He moved his face down slightly and latched his fangs gentley around her jugular. Evangeline gasped, twisting her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck. Tristan let go and moved around the chair to kiss her. Their lips were inches away when the door burst open and Ronald, the auctioneer, entered. Evangeline swore under her breathe and turned her best death glare on the oblivious man. Ronald was short and fat, his ruddy complection made him look like a tomatoe. He was sweating, but then again, when wasn\'t he sweating? He didnt look like anyone\'s imagination of a vampire. Nevertheless, when he smiled there was that brief glimpse of ivory fangs. Ronald looked the glaring pair still twined around each other and laughed nervously as he formulated an excuse. Morgana burst in a second later and added her glare to Evangeline and Tristan\'s. Ronald got the message and excused himself.

\"Whats wrong?\" Tristan asked after untangling himself from Evangeline. Taking a good look at Morgana he relized she wasn\'t mad, just excited, and now she was pratically bouncing up and down.

\"They\'re selling bond slaves!\" Bond slaves were slaves that could be used for anything, sex, blood, labor, anything. That explained the lack of people there that night. Bond slaves took alot to train, they were usually more educated than other slaves and were often the epitome of physical beauty. Morgana had been looking for one since her last one had been killed while trying to esape. There was no escape for slaves, there was no where to run to, no one sympathetic to them. Morgana plopped herself down into a chair next to Evangeline and Tristan as a tenative knock came from the door.

\"Mi\' lord? Mi\'ladies?\" it was Ronald again, but he seemed to have learned from his last mistake.

\"Enter!\" Tristan called out angrily. He didn\'t want to deal with Ronald.

\"The auction is about to start, your excellancies.\"

\"Very well, leave us\" Evangeline barked at him. Ronald bolted from the room and closed the door after him.

\"He\'s such an idiot\" Morgana commented dryly. The stage at the end of the vast room was suddenly flooded with lights and the heavy red curtain was drawn aside. An auctioneer walked out onto the stage and announced the opening of the auction. Evangeline leaned forward and turned a knob on the control board in front of them and the auctioneer\'s voice filled the small room.

\"The first item up for sale today comes from distant and exotic lands...\" The narrative continued to say that the woman standing on the stage was from Africa and had spent three years in training in Asia. She looked terrified as the auctioneers voice continued to announce that she was a virgin, twenty three years of age, and very submissive. She tried desperately to back away into a corner of the stage but one of the guards on the stage grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back to the center. She stood with huge, doe like eyes turned to the audience, all of whom were now staring at the frightened thing like she was a cold glass of water in the desert. She stopped struggling eventually, regaining her composure. Virgins were rare, as were ones trained as well as the auctioneer said she was. Her fear only seemed to add to the appeal. The biding began at twelve marks and steadily rose till the auctioneer could get no higher bids and the woman was led away to her new master. The process was repeated countless times over the next hour, none of the three seeing anything worth buying. They lounged, bored, in the small room until Morgana gasped and sat up eagerly. \"That one, that one there! He\'s the one I want!\" The man in question was cowering in a corner of the stage against the door leading back down the way he came. He was crying and looked more terrified than the woman earlier. Most slaves, once trained, kept their composure on stage. This one didn\'t. He struggled weakly against the guards, but he was no match for them. He was tall and slender, naked except for a thin loincloth that barely covered him. His hair was light blonde and his skin a dark, dark tan.

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thats all for now folks... as my original readers will have noticed.... there have been changes... have fun kiddies....

please review, be it positive or negative... but note... all flames will be used to roast marshmellows... or possibly hotdogs...

your forever, kateri anne shale