nadya zakharyina . (vitium) wrote in exsanguious, @ 2015-08-27 01:44:00 |
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VALENTÍN: As if it were yesterday Valentín could remember clearly that night Nadya had given him her blood, when she had smothered him and stripped the limitations of a mortal life away from him. Where some might have seen that as a cruelty he had seen it only as a mercy, as a release from the restrictions that had been holding him back and keeping him locked into a life he had never wanted or asked for. In turning him Nadya had not only opened his eyes but broadened his horizons, she had given him more than anyone else had ever cared to and she expected only his loyalty and devotion in return, both things he could and would give to her in their entirety until the end of his days. There was no obligation on his part either, he did not give her those things because he felt he had to but because they had been earned. From the first second he had laid eyes on her he had known that she was something spectacular, something special and worthy of his love and admiration.
When her hand touched his face his eyelids fluttered closed as was so often the case when she initiated contact, it had an almost intoxicating effect on him, overwhelming and heady, like the purest and most addictive narcotic that he could never get enough of. Even after her fingers left his cheek he could still feel her there, an echo of a touch that never seemed to last long enough, and it was only when the water in the shower switched on that he opened his eyes properly and looked across the bathroom at her. With a dip of his head he acknowledged her words, unable to help the feeling of perhaps misplaced pleasure at the implication of her final words. “Come to bed?” That hadn’t been Valentín’s first choice of words but hers had struck a chord. Come to bed not go. In all the time they had spent together over the years that was a first, not something he had heard her say before.
NADEZHDA: Silently she stood to the side of the vast shower, blood on her night clothes but her hair still perfectly coiffed around her shoulders and neck in large curls, blood all over her hands but her posture absolutely, perfectly straight and poised. It did not surprise her that he repeated her words back to her, she had often invited herself into his personal space because it belonged to her anyway but she had never invited him into hers. Nadya took her personal space incredibly personally, it was intimate and precious to her and she did not share it freely with another unless she was feeding. As with so many things, however, Valentín was the exception to the rule. Not only that but he deserved to be rewarded for his survival, his determination to return to her tonight. To her sharing her bed when she closed down the shutters for the daylight hours constituted a very real reward, a privilege and an honour.
“You will sleep with me.” Nadya’s tone was deadpan but an eyebrow rose subtly. In the same way that it was potent and powerful for him when she touched him, initiated the kind of contact that was rare between them, his obvious devotion to her, his need to please and serve her was somehow absolutely vital to her continued existence. Nadya had existed for a very long time, she had been alone for large portions of it and she grew bored and, yes, lonely easily. Valentín in all his fidelity and reverence of her remedied that. “I want you close.”
VALENTÍN: What was his was hers, it was a simple and unspoken understanding that Valentín had never questioned, it made so much sense to him that he had never thought to fight it. On several occasions Nadya had come into his bed and spent the night there but this was something new, this was not something that was his being claimed by his maker, the woman who had remade him, this was something that was hers being offered to him to be shared. It was a powerful gesture, one that he would be foolish to overlook or dismiss. No other vampire she had made had been afforded this honour and it was not something Valentín would be forgetting any time soon. It was a reward, recognition of what he had achieved this night, and if anything it only made him all the more determined to kill the slayer the next time their paths crossed. Perhaps he would bring Nadya her heart when the job was done.
If Nadya’s intention had been to distract Valentín completely from his compromised physical condition then she succeeded effortlessly with those words, he forgot all about the blood and the injuries and the maddening outcome of the fight that had led them to this point in the first place. “I want to be close to you,” he said by way of response, his tone filled with appreciation and no small amount of awe and admiration. There was no denying the comfort sharing space with her would bring, as powerful and ruthless as he was there was still that human instinct deep down inside, the one that wanted companionship and closeness. Honestly there was no one he would rather be close to.
NADEZHDA: That was the nature of creating something. Valentín was hers and therefore so too was everything that was his, that was the way that Nadya had always seen things, the way she had been brought up to see things as much as she was loathe to give any credit to who and what she was now to the dregs from humanity from which she had raised herself. When she had been small her father had always made it abundantly clear that everything in the family was his. His wife. His daughters. The clothes on their backs. The words in their mouths. Everything. All of it. Nadya had shown him just what she thought of that once she was old enough. Now here she was, centuries later, very much living in her opinion while her dear father was nothing but bone turned to dust and dust turned to shit. Now she had Valentín and though she did think of everything that was his as being hers it was different. she did not take anything that she did not know he would give to her willingly anyway.
It had not been her intention to take his mind off the fight, not really, if anything she liked him angry, she liked him hungry for a fight, hungry for victory and vengeance; those were attractive qualities to her, strong ones. There had to be respite, though, from all things at the end of the day. “I know you do.” There was a faint smile on her lips then, not quite formed but certainly more than a shadow. It seemed that he had forgotten how his legs worked and so she reminded him that she wanted him to clean himself up fully first by holding out one of her blood streaked hands towards him, beckoning with an open palm.
VALENTÍN: Nothing had ever belonged to Valentín when he had been young, when he had been human. Nothing had really belonged to his poor excuse for a father, either, everything had always been gambled away or owed to someone else and the man had ruined his family so completely they had nothing, not even the clothes on their backs. Ultimately even those were supplied by whatever people they happened to be serving at any one time, those who kept meagre roofs over their heads and simple food in their bellies, those who had kept them from starving and freezing to death in the winter. Valentín had only had things that were his after Nadya had freed him from that life, in killing him -- for all intents and purposes -- and allowing him to be born again she had reset everything, rewritten the rules of his existence, so it wasn’t difficult for him to relinquish anything that was his to the woman who had given it all to him in the first place.
There would always be some of that fire in him, the flames she stoked with encouraging words and actions, the simmering heat and burn of anger that she had seen in him in the very beginning and never sought to douse like everyone else always had. It would never go out, not all the way. If anyone was going to see that in his eyes it was Nadya. Stepping forward, his wounded leg taking a little less weight than his unhindered one, he lifted the hand of his bloodied -- but not broken -- arm to take her extended palm.
NADEZHDA: When she took his hand in hers she gave it a very small squeeze. It was not the grasp of a bloodthirsty vampire, a woman who had murdered husband after husband, who had left her family in scraps of bone and viscera, it was the gentle touch of a lover, somehow so intimate even though it was chaste, not at all overtly romantic. “You are a good boy, Valentín.” At that she did smile a little, just a touch, a shadow, a portent of a one across her lips but gone so quickly it could have been imagined. “You always come back to me.” In releasing his hand again it was free to rise and touch his face again, examining and considering him, musing on the handsome, youthful features before her. For a moment she was possessed of the idea of giving him a swift kiss, while he was still bloody, but she changed her mind and turned away.
Nayda crossed the room and sat down slowly in a cream coloured chair in the corner of the large bathroom, crossing her legs as she did so, watching her progeny intently. Now that he had come back to her she had no intention of letting him out of her sight, she wanted him within reach, for without him she was sure she would survive but her existence would be very lonely indeed, empty in many ways. Valentín was not just her favourite, he was the only one who truly mattered to her.
VALENTÍN: If it was possible for his skin to feel warm where she made contact then Valentín was convinced it did then, her hand taking his was undeniably powerful not only as a gesture but in its effect on him. When his eyes locked on her face there was nothing but adulation, a little flash of pride coming to them when she praised him that way. That was so much of what he lived for, what fuelled him and gave him drive, it was all about Nadya’s approval, about his maker being proud of him. “I always will.” The words were out in an impassioned whisper as her hand lifted towards his face and laid against his cheek.
As she walked away Valentín couldn’t look away from her, she was captivating at the best of times and even when she was dressed so simply in her silk nightclothes with her hair loose and natural she was the most exquisite creature he had ever laid eyes on. Even the way she took the seat in the corner was breathtaking, or at least it would have been had he had any air in his lungs to begin with. As it was for several seconds as she sat there, watching him, all he could do was watch her in return before he recalled what it was she wanted him to do. The water was hot now, the steam had started to spill from the confines of the shower cubicle into the bathroom but Valentín didn’t see it, his eyes were still fixed on his maker when he lifted one hand to unfasten his belt and pull it free, the button and the zipper soon following suit so he could work his pants down over his hips. There was no shame in undressing in front of her, if anything Valentín was somewhat excited by the prospect, even with the blood and the torn flesh he couldn’t deny how it felt to be so valued, so treasured, by someone as powerful and influential as Nadezhda Zakharyina.
NADEZHDA: There was no shy looking away when he began to undress, no coquettish turn of her head or aversion of her eyes. Nadya did not get shy, she was not retiring or genteel. Instead of looking away at all she watched him, folding one arm across her middle and resting her elbow on her wrist. Her fingers wandered over the exposed, defined line of her collarbone. There was no logical need to sit there and watch over him, there was no chance of him being hurt when he was in the heart of her territory, in the core of her home, her own personal and private rooms, but she still felt protective enough of him to want to be there. As ever there was something illicit between them, though, something society as the world knew it would not understand or sanctify. Nadya had made him, created him, she had raised him from a young age, they were family in every sense of the word such that they transcended it. Their relationship was all things, encompassing, and it did not seek nor need the understanding or approval of mortals. As though they could.
“Continue.” Nadya nodded her head a little, twirling one of the straps of her silk top as she sat there. It was both permission and encouragement. Valentín was so concerned with doing what she asked of him, what she wanted, that sometimes she needed to verbalise it to make it clear for him, though often he was good at anticipating what she wanted of him.
VALENTÍN: If ever Valentín had possessed those traits himself they had long since died off, they had been worked out of his system decades and now he was bold and without care about such things. Clothes were just a barrier, scraps of fabric that mortals applied so much value and meaning to, and as much as Valentín could appreciate the finer things in life they were just things. They meant nothing at the end of the day, certainly not as much as his bond with his maker and keeping her happy, proving to her that he would be all right after the shock he must have given her collapsing through the back door in such a wretched state. Had it been any other progeny she likely would have finished the job, ripped their hearts from their chests and crushed them into dust but Valentín knew he was an exception and he wasn’t about to take advantage of that. As eternally pleased as he was to know he was valued above all others he was not so arrogant as to think he could do no wrong in her eyes. This was what she wanted and so this was what she would get.
There wasn’t much clothing left on him at that point, the footwear was easily worked from his feet without the need to loose down or bend to complete the action, even with the wound in his leg he managed just fine, and with the pants he had been wearing stepped out of as well he was soon enough left in only his underwear. Others might have hesitated, wondered what the implications of stripping themselves bare before her really were, but not Valentín. There were no questions, no doubts, no second-guessing, there was only compliance and yet still he managed to obey her commands with a quiet air of dignity. There was no shame in removing his clothing, he did not feel belittled or vulnerable, if anything it was oddly reassuring and not only because of that soft encouragement in her voice. Working his thumb under the waistband Valentín kept his gaze on her face, giving her his focus as he worked the underwear down over first one hip and then the other. Soon enough it had joined the rest of his clothing on the floor, leaving him bare before his maker, wounds and all.
NADEZHDA: Boldness was important. Boldness could get a person through the toughest of times if it was tempered with the right amount of pragmatism. That was what she had tried to encourage in Valentín and it had worked. There had been fire in him already, the injustice and indignity of his situations as a human had seen to that. Creating progeny was about finding potential in mortals like she had found in him, seen past the things that made him weak, mortal, so young and inexperienced, and into the core of who and what he was, into his soul if such a thing was to truly exist. Nadya had failed repeatedly over the years but in the end she had gained the most precious of all her creations in Valentín.
Nadya’s eyes swept over him before she stood from her seat and moved across the room again. She picked up a large towel from a stack of them by the double sink and placed it on the round sofa that was closer to the shower. Now that she had seen every wound she was more satisfied that he would heal sufficiently quickly. Though she was a patient woman she did not relish the idea of her right hand being out of commission for longer than necessary, not when she had plans to put in place, motions to start off. Whether she would admit it or not she had come to rely on Valentín for many things.
There was still blood on her own hands, on her arms, but she had picked up a towel for herself as well and held it in one hand, ready to wash the streaks off of herself before she, too, changed. “Shower.” It was whispered, tender as she lifted a hand and placed it,ever so gently, on his chest. “Then come to bed with me.”
VALENTÍN: Had his heart still possessed the capability it would have started to beat quicker then, as she approached and closed the distance between them. With all of his clothing stripped away it removed what little barrier had existed between them and for several seconds he did feel a little light-headed, almost, her presence had an effect on him, a powerful one, it always had, there was no denying it and no sense in even trying. Silent for a time he looked into her eyes and made a low sound in his throat, a sound of assent and approval, just the finest thread of anticipation and even excitement before he dipped his head. Nadya had told him what she expected him to do and now his job was simple.
That hand on his chest made it so difficult to think, it muddied his thought process -- such as it was -- and had his eyes sliding closed for a second, much as they had when she’d laid a hand on his face downstairs. There was approval in that touch, encouragement, a wordless prompt as well. Nadya was patient with him, more so than she was with any other creature, but she would not wait all night.
Reaching out with his left arm, the one that had not been snapped like kindling, he made sure the door to the shower was open enough for him to step in and only then did he take his eyes from his maker’s face, a difficult task in and of itself when she was so striking, so commanding in every sense of the word. Putting more distance between them after she had closed it wasn’t easy, there was nothing he was less keen to do, but there was also no denying just how it felt to have the hot water hit his skin and slide over it, sluicing away the blood which spiralled around the drain and down through the piping.
NADEZHDA: Once he was clean she would be able to reset his bones, dress what wounds required it, and put him to bed. Nadya watched him walk into the shower before she turned away and went to the sink where she used the small towel that she had picked up for herself to wash the majority of his blood from her hands and her bare arms. It displeased her greatly to have any of his blood upon her at all, whether it was technically his or not, she loathed the thought that he had been so injured. It made her very angry, actually, but like so many things she kept all of that beneath her glacial surface. Valentín might know that it was there, he had known her for such a very long time and he had seen her under so many different circumstances, but she kept it inside, ready to be unleashed when she might need it the most.
There was no helping her nightgown now but she had others and she would dispose of this one once she was finished taking care of her injured child. She dropped the towel she had used onto the pile of his ruined clothes and left the room only long enough so that she could retrieve some clothing for him from his rooms, Just like his house they were situated next to hers. All she brought for him was a pair of sweatpants, relaxed, something comfortable for him. Nadya left them folded on the sofa for him. Then she got out a first aid kit from under the sink and set that down too. Finally she sat down, patiently, to wait for him to finish.
VALENTÍN: It was not inaccurate to say that Nadya and Valentín knew one another better than anyone else could ever know them, they were certainly more intimately familiar with one another than anyone else could ever hope to be and there was a very good reason for that. For the better part of two centuries they had been close, incredibly so, and though Valentín had spent a good portion of time out in the world by himself he had always come right back to his maker. After a time he hadn’t wandered far at all, as the years had worn on he’d grown out of the habit of proving himself with distant deeds and instead taken to establishing his worth by her side instead, as her right hand. Nowadays they were nigh on inseparable, everybody with any kind of sense knew that Nadezhda Zakharyina was rarely seen without her faithful progeny Valentín Rezník close behind her, ever dutiful and loyal and ready at the drop of a hat to do whatever his maker asked of him.
Fully aware that she was just outside, within earshot, Valentín was methodical about his washing as he could possibly be given his injuries, he did the best he could with one fully functioning arm -- sore though the shoulder was given the hole that had been punched into it by one of those damned stakes -- and took just enough time to be thorough but not so long that he would keep Nadya waiting. Only when he was certain he had cleaned all the blood from his skin, all the dirt and dust from his hair, did he switch off the water and open the door to the shower cubicle again. With water trickling down his face and every other inch of his bared skin he looked across the room to where she was perched with perfect poise upon the sofa. With the slightest raise of his brows he asked her without words whether his condition was acceptable and only once she had given her assent would he step out of the shower fully.
NADEZHDA: Each time he had come back to her he had proved not only his loyalty but his strength and resourcefulness, his intent to survive and the will he had within to come back to her. Some of her progeny had gone off on their own to prove themselves and had simply never come back. Some of them she had taken it upon herself to actively hunt down and put an end to, some she simply could not be bothered to waste her time with. Others she had sent Valentín after as the years had worn on. Ultimately no one walked away from her without paying the price for it and Valentín had demonstrated to her that he was more than capable of fulfilling the duties that she asked of him. Now they were, indeed, inseparable. There was no one else she trusted to aid her in her affairs no one else that she could entrust with the tasks that she asked him to complete on her behalf, in her name. That was what he was now, her representative, he spoke for her when she was not present and that was no small thing, yet she trusted him with it.
Sitting perched on the edge of the sofa she examined him again as he came to the door of the shower, silently asking her whether he was suitably clean. He was. Now she could see the rips and ribbons of flesh where it had been torn. Fucking slayers. They never knew what they were getting themselves into and she was fully prepared to add the life of another one to her long list of kills for what had been done tonight. Betraying none of that, however, she only raised a hand and beckoned him over to her with a curl of her fingers. It was clear from the motion that she expected him to come and stand in front of her.
VALENTÍN: Why anyone in their right mind would want to walk away from Nadya and never return Valentín had never been able to understand, on the rare occasions when it came to his attention that such a thing had happened he had been beyond baffled, utterly at a loss as to why that would even be an option for anyone who had the chance to be close to such a powerful and influential creature. Who would waste such an opportunity, to learn from the best and be groomed to stand at her side? Idiots, all of them, and there were some who hadn’t deserved the opportunity in the first place, a small handful of whom Valentín had been lucky enough to dispose of personally, a task he had relished because anyone so ignorant and wasteful did not deserve to live.
His maker was not alone in her desire to punish the one who had caused him so much harm, Valentín was keeping what details he had memorised close to the forefront of his mind so that he could commit them to something more permanent later on, as soon as the opportunity presented itself. It wasn’t likely that he would forget the face of someone who had caused him so much pain, someone who had insulted him so much by actually drawing blood, breaking bone, but it also wouldn’t hurt to lay them out somewhere. Later, though, after rest. Stepping out of the shower with water dripping from his frame as he went Valentín crossed the room to stand before his maker, his eyes once again steadily fixed on her face where she sat on the sofa.
NADEZHDA: When he was standing in front of her Nadya offered him the towel that she had set aside for him so that he could dry himself off while she assessed him further. That arm would need resetting amidst the other wounds that needed to be dressed. It was unnecessary for vampires really but it would keep blood off the sheets and protect his healing skin. Come evening he would be in a much better state, sore most likely, but not so raw as he was now. Calmly, carefully, she took up one of the dressings that she had taken out of the first aid kit and held it between her fingers, patiently sitting in front of him, looking up at him with her dark expression, one of constant hunger and calculation.
“Did you injure her in return?” Not that it overly mattered either way, not now that he was back here with her, but she was curious, she wanted details even if Valentín was reluctant to give the, as she imagined that he might be having not returned the victor of the night. “Did you give her something to remember you by?”
VALENTÍN: It was almost like being watched by a shark, the weight of her gaze was so predatory and so steady that it felt like she could just devour him at any moment, it was the kind of focus he had become familiar with over the decades and yet it still had an effect on him. A chill chased across the surface of his skin even so soon after being underneath the rush of hot water. Valentín enjoyed that feeling, it made him feel alive even though most would argue a vampire was anything but, their hearts still and their lungs empty, their bodies animated by some power none of them could truly understand let alone put into words. With a steady hand he took that towel and with that predatory gaze fixed on him he began to dry himself off as best he could with only one responsive arm.
There was a slight hesitation before he responded, saying a little more quietly than he normally would have, “Not as much as I would have liked.” Lying to his maker would be pointless even if he had felt inclined to do so, she would see right through it -- right through him -- in the blink of an eye and Valentín was not in the habit of disappointing or deceiving her. “I mistook her for a hunter.” And therefore he had underestimated her. A foolish mistake.
NADEZHDA: Slowly she turned the dressing over between her fingers, observing him coolly. After a moment she nodded her head. That was understandable, mistaking the girl for a hunter, a human. Slayers were good at hiding, they were clever when it came to disguising themselves, or rather their watchers were good at that. Nadya had slain a few in her years, she had first hand experience dealing with both of them and she knew how difficult it was to assess them for what they were sometimes. “You would not be the first to do such a thing.” Nadya would never admit that she had ever made such a mistake, but she did not want him to think he was the only one in the world to have done so, either. “You will not make the same mistake again.” Not a reassurance or to placate. A command.
When he was done drying to her satisfaction she applied the dressing in her hand and then the others she had beside her. Nadya stood and directed him to sit down where she had been perched. It would hurt, she was sure, but once it was done it was done and they could both rest for the day. Come night they could feed again and she was certain he would heal all the faster for it.
VALENTÍN: Not the first and not the last, obviously, but that hardly made Valentín feel any less foolish for the fact that he had so naively mistaken a slayer for a run of the mill hunter. In doing so he had made the kind of mistake that Nadya herself had always advised he do everything in his power to avoid. If that slayer had been a little more precise and meticulous with her aim, if she had driven those stakes more carefully into her target, it was possible Valentín would not have survived the night. “No,” he said to his maker, lifting his chin a little, adopting that air of pride and self-assurance that she had always encouraged in him because if there was one thing she did not abide it was time wasted regretting what could not be changed. It would not do for her progeny to feel sorry for himself either, not strictly the truth considering he wasn’t exactly capable of such a thing, but it was better to learn from the mistake than dwell on it. “I will not.”
After taking her seat Valentín was quiet and still, permitting his maker to apply the dressings she had prepared and making the process as straightforward for her as possible. There were many vampires who would not take such care with their progeny and he knew better than to take her attentions for granted. Valentín even kept his reactions all but silent as those dressings were pressed over his wounds, restricting himself to only fleeting shifts in expression rather than anything verbal and disruptive.
NADEZHDA: Once she was done with the dressings she moved on to resetting his arm. Nadya was not gentle but she was precise, she took hold of the limb and snapped the bones back into realignment without so much as a moment of hesitation. It could have been viewed as a punishment for his carelessness out there in the night, in some way, but it was also so much like her usual demeanour that it was hard to tell what was behind her eyes or in her head when she performed the act. It drew a line under what he had said, though. No. He would not make the same mistake again.
Having completed that task she stepped back and picked up the sweats she had retrieved for him from his own room down the hall, offering those to him wordlessly before she turned around and headed into her bedroom. Nadya went right over to her chest of drawers and pulled open the top drawer; she would have to dispose of the nightgown she was wearing completely, the blood had ruined it utterly, and so she sought a clean one from the drawer. One which she changed into there and then, not bothering to seek such a small mortal thing as privacy, not caring a thing for modesty. In this day and age, old as she was, there seemed little point in blushing over every little thing.
VALENTÍN: More so than anyone Valentín was familiar with Nadya’s manner, that cool and businesslike demeanour she carried around with her everywhere she went, when she snapped his arm back into position like that he read into it exactly what he could, that he was not to make such a grave mistake again but also that she was relieved he had survived. Complex was an understatement when it came to Nadezhda Zakharyina, one simple action could mean so many things and even after a great number of years spent in her company not even Valentín could decipher them all. Many of them, yes, but not all of them. A tight groan of sharp discomfort knotted in his throat but that was all the sound he made. Nadya had raised him better than that, she had taught him much better than that.
It was only a few moments after she had left the bathroom that Valentín follow, the sweatpants she had handed to him pulled on over his legs and up to his waist, the drawstring loose but the material sitting naturally around his hips without the need for the knot to be tied. In following so soon after Nadya he was in plenty of time to see her remove the gown she had been wearing, exposing herself with the kind of cool and quiet confidence, effortlessly, and there was no way he could be anything but awed by that. Valentín stood just inside the room watching her because there was no way he could take his eyes off her, every flawless inch of her bared so boldly like that. “Beautiful.” It was little more than a whisper, he hadn’t meant to say anything at all but it brushed past his lips before he could stop himself.
NADEZHDA: With the clean night dress in her hands she turned around from the chest of drawers at his assessment of her. A smile came to her lips, a small one, the compliment was not needed but it was appreciated. For a moment she paused there, watching him watching her, and then she let the dress unfold from where it had been tucked into the drawer. Silently she slipped it over her head, let it fall over her pale frame as she moved across the dark room and over to Valentín. It would begin to grow light outside soon, the day would begin and San Luis Obispo would wake up and begin its day, it was time for the likes of them, the creatures of the night to turn in, to rest themselves in readiness for the next night. Nadya loved this time of night, the darkness before the dawn, the calm of it, the quiet. It made her feel young again, sometimes, though she was not sure how.
“Tomorrow night we hunt,” she said to him in a low rumble of a voice, fingers tracing the edge of one of the dressings she had applied to his flesh. “You may bring me a prize.” To prove himself, to reassert his position though it could never truly be usurped from her side she knew there would be a burning in him to prove himself to her. Nadya loved him for that. She loved him for a lot of reasons, that was just one of them.
VALENTÍN: It said a great deal that she stood there and allowed him to admire her, that she did not command him to look away -- either with words or simple actions, she was capable of either -- and mind his manners while she dressed herself in the new gown. That small smile was a powerful gesture as well and Valentín felt a similar expression take shape on his face by way of response, as unnecessary as the compliment had been it was good to know that she had appreciated it, that he could please her in that small way even if the rest of the night had gone so catastrophically wrong.
The smile grew, widening, when she came closer and said that, when she extended that offer to him, that chance to make amends and prove not only to her but also to himself that his place by her side was one he deserved. Lifting one hand he touched the tips of his fingers softly and yet still so boldly somehow -- in that it was bold to presume to touch Nadya when she had not expressly invited it -- to the underside of her arm. His voice was quiet but it possessed just enough of his characteristic self-assurance that it removed any trace of uncertainty as he said, “Perhaps I will bring you two.”
NADEZHDA: Having been through so much in her years, seen the rise and fall of dynasties, left villages in a bloody wake of thirsty destruction, murdered, hated, loved all in equal measures, she was not modest about her body, territorial of it, perhaps, in the fact that she truly would never allow just anyone to look on her naked but neither did she feel vulnerable when she was so exposed, it was difficult for her to feel that at any time given all that bloody, brutal history. Valentín was permitted into the heart of her home, he was permitted into her bedroom, the bed itself, he was as much a part of her as her cold, dead, unbeating heart was and so to stand before him while she changed her night dress was nothing to her and yet everything.
Nadya allowed him to touch her, the light brush of fingers a welcome contact. In fact after a moment, quick as lightning, she took hold of that hand and brought his fingers to her cool lips for a gentle, chaste kiss. “Ambitious.” From there she released his hand and moved around him to where there was a control for the shutters to the bedroom. They were automated, the kind of thing a hyper-paranoid human might install for security only these were specifically to keep sunlight out in the heat of the day. When she put the code in they began to move with a smooth, hydraulic sigh. Nadya passed him again on her way back towards the bed where she threw back the covers and slid herself between the sheets, leaving enough room for her progeny to join her, resting a hand on the space next to her expectantly.
No one would call her sentimental but she was sure she would rest much easier with him beside her today. Close. Protected. Safe.
VALENTÍN: Still and dead as it was in his chest Valentín was almost convinced he could feel his heart all but flutter when she kissed his fingers like that, as she brushed past him and started the shutters on their downward slide where they would remain for the duration of the day, keeping them safe from the harmful rays of the sun. Such things were far from his mind, however, all he could concentrate on was the movements of his maker as she made her way to the bed and slid herself beneath the sheets. For several seconds he could only look at her as she ran her hand, that strong hand that was capable of such devastating feats, across the mattress, his brain still struggling to catch up with what his eyes were telling him.
With silent footfalls he crossed the room, coming to a brief halt beside the bed but the hesitation was slight, it lasted only a few moments before he put one knee on the mattress and then the other. This was a first he did not intend to take lightly, it was not an event he was going to take for granted, this was something no other progeny of hers had even been granted and as such Valentín would treat it as the honour and privilege that it was.
When he turned his eyes to her that knowledge was plain to see, it was written all over his face. It was right that Nadya see such things, that she know her progeny understood that this was special.
NADEZHDA: As she made herself comfortable in the bed -- large and plush, expensive sheets, only the very best for someone of her age and with her means -- she made it clear that she expected him to not only come close to her but to place his head on her breastbone. The admiration was plain to see in his eyes, right there for her to read, and she cherished it even if it was not obvious that she did on the surface.
It was as much about reassuring herself of his presence as it was about demonstrating her protective prowess. There was no safer place in the city, in the world, than being there with her in her inner sanctum, in her bed itself. Nadya wanted Valentín to not only know that but to feel it; once he had been a fragile, warm fleshy human thing and she had protected him then, now he was a vampire, carved from stone, the heart of a killer in his chest, but she would still protect him with the same passion and determination that she had harboured all those years. In some ways he would always be young in her eyes, no matter what they saw together, the things they did, and that meant that she would always watch out for him.
VALENTÍN: If anyone could understand those wordless commands of hers, the orders she issued with nothing more than a lift of her feminine brow or a certain light in her keen eyes, it was Valentín. So it was that he settled himself down in the bed as well, shifting his weight just so until he was as close to her as was physically possible and coming to rest his head exactly where she wanted it to be. There was no denying her and not just because she was his maker, because she had given him life, lifted him out of the muck and mediocrity of his human life and transformed him into something more, something greater. Something eternal.
This was where he belonged. Not necessarily right where he was physically, nestled against his maker in a manner so intimate an outsider could be excused for thinking they were something other than what they were, something more than mother and child for all intents and purposes, but with her. In every sense of the word. It was all Valentín had wanted from the second he had lain eyes on her and it was all he would want, truly want and desire and crave with all his cold dead heart, until the day he was wiped from the face of the earth in whatever fashion fate had in store for him. If he had his way he would walk with her, at her side or in her shadow, until the very ends of the earth, until the sun had turned cold and the mountains had crumbled into dust, until there were only bones in the ground and ashes on the wind. No one had ever belonged with another the way he believed he belonged with Nadya and as the last of the tension of the night crept from his frame as he lay there in her bed, beneath her sheets, against her strong slender frame, it was impossible to imagine himself anywhere else, following anyone else, loving anyone else.