The Vampire & Her Witch

After their bath, Nyrielle carried a noticeably pale Ashlynn into their bedroom, wrapping her tenderly in a soft, fluffy towel before setting her on a plush chaise beside the hearth.

”Just looking at you, I’m tempted to fetch my paints,” Nyrielle said while admiring the soft golden glow and deep shadows that danced across the surface of Ashlynn’s skin. ”We could keep the night to ourselves. There’s no rush for anything.”

”It’s tempting,” Ashlynn said. She allowed herself to sink into the plush chaise, listening to the crackle and pop of the fire in the hearth while soaking in its warmth. She’d allowed Nyrielle to drink deeply enough that she felt a bit lethargic. The idea of nodding off while Nyrielle painted her carried tremendous appeal.

Come morning, while Nyrielle slept, she could return to the forest of the Vale. A nap there, among the trees, would do more for her than a good meal tonight, no matter how much she craved a hearty plate of roast or a bowl of meaty stew... Anything with a large quantity of meat, really.

-Guuurrrgggllllle-

The thought of food pulled a distinctly unladylike grumble from her stomach and Ashlynn’s face heated instantly.

”I suppose not,” Nyrielle said with a light laugh. ”Clearly, you’ve had your fill of me,” Nyrielle teased. ”Now I’ll have to share your affections with Georg’s cooking.”

”It’s your fault for drinking so deeply,” Ashlynn said with a slight pout. ”You and Thane were the ones who taught me that the body needs to feast on meat to rebuild itself after you’ve fed on someone. You should have seen this coming,” she said, sticking her tongue out at Nyrielle.

”I did see it coming,” Nyrielle said with a broad smile. ”I told Georg what to prepare for tonight’s dinner when we arrived last night,” she said. ”He said he’d prepare an extra-large portion for you.”

”He’d better,” Ashlynn said, her stomach grumbling again at the thought of Georg’s masterful cooking. ”I’ve missed his delicate touch. Master Jean does an admirable job, but Georg’s standard is hard to match.”

It wasn’t that Marcell’s nephew was a bad cook or that he hadn’t trained to the skills of his public profession to a tremendous degree. Jean deserved to be called a master in the kitchens. But cooking was always something intended to conceal his other occupations, as spy and occasional assassin.

Beyond that, Georg had inherited a legacy that stretched back generations in his family. Cooking for vampires in the Vale of Mists was both demanding and technically challenging. Nyrielle and her progeny typically only nibbled at food, seeking the sense of normalcy it brought as a connection to the living.

While Nyrielle could subsist on nothing but blood, abstaining from ordinary food for the rest of her days, she said that doing so dragged vampires closer to the Abyss. The less their lives resembled those of the living, the more precarious their position on the knife’s edge between life and death became.

But they only needed a few bites of food to be content. Since they only ate for the experience of it, each bite that Georg prepared needed to be a delight all by itself. Few could achieve what Georg did without dedicating a lifetime to the craft, and tonight, Ashlynn was looking forward to sharing his delights with her mother, Jocelynn, and Micheline.

”Help me dress?” Ashlynn said, shifting herself on the chaise to a more upright position. ”I think it will be a few minutes before I can stand after...” she said, trailing off as her face heated again.

”I get to treat my darling like my own personal doll?” Nyrielle said, leaning in close to bestow a feather-light kiss on Ashlynn’s brow. ”This is a delight.”

The soft sound of fabric rustling filled the air as Nyrielle let her own towel fall, revealing her sculpted, lithe figure to Ashlynn in all its glory while Nyrielle padded across the room to open their wardrobes.

She could feel Ashlynn’s gaze following her as she moved, and she clearly relished in the feeling, slowing her pace to a languid stroll as if she were in no hurry at all to dress herself before dining with Ashlynn’s family.

”As much as I would delight in seeing you wear something impressive tonight,” Nyrielle said as her fingers brushed across one of Ashlynn’s fancier dresses. ”Since dinner tonight is for family, I suppose you want something simple,” she said, selecting a loose, tiered skirt that started as a light, caramel color, darkening with each tier until the hem of the skirt was a rich, dark mahogany.

”Can I be daring with you, my darling?” Nyrielle added, pulling out a pale, cream colored blouse with billowy, slit sleeves and a plunging neckline. ”Or is seeing you like this too much for your mother?” Nyrielle asked, pulling a more chaste, bell-sleeved blouse in a dark, forest green from the wardrobe.

”I think she should see me as I am,” Ashlynn said. ”We’re home. I have nothing to hide here. I like it when your eyes linger on me,” Ashlynn added. ”I don’t want to pretend that I don’t. But if you choose something daring for me, you have to choose something daring yourself,” she added.

”Don’t tempt me, darling,” Nyrielle said as she returned to Ashlynn’s side with the cream colored blouse. ”I’d wear a dress of black lace with nothing underneath just to hold your gaze a few heartbeats longer,” she said as she returned to Ashlynn’s side. ”Don’t think that I wouldn’t.”

”I know you would,” Ashlynn said, capturing Nyrielle’s hands to pull her down for another light, chaste kiss. ”But then we’d never leave the room,” she teased. ”And I’m hungry,” she added, biting playfully at Nyrielle’s fingers.

”And it’s all my fault,” Nyrielle said in comically exaggerated distress. ”You’re wasting away before my eyes...”

Elsewhere in the castle, Ashlynn was certain that her mother, Jocelynn, and Micheline were already waiting for her and Nyrielle to arrive for dinner, or perhaps they were still getting ready themselves.

There was a time when that thought would have been enough for her to rush toward them, unwilling to keep her family waiting. Now, however, she took advantage of every playful moment that Nyrielle offered her, allowing the days of fighting and tense negotiations to sink down, like layers of soil covered by freshly fallen, brightly colored leaves.

By the time Ashlynn and Nyrielle left their chambers, Ashlynn’s face all but glowed with warmth and happiness, despite the quantity of blood she’d lost.

This was the life she wanted. The life she’d been fighting for. And now, she could finally include her family in it...