forum The Masochism Tango (o/o with lots of spice and drama~)

Started September 07, 2023 by Deleted user

tune

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Salem’s little prince was arriving today, escorted by his own most trusted guards to make sure his travels were as safe and comfortable as possible. Stefan would have had every luxury available to him, comfortable clothes, a warm bed, good food and drink and plenty of Salem’s favorite books to keep him entertained. Truthfully, Salem was dreading this. He didn’t see the point of the whole exchange, but as but a junior member of the Dark Court, he couldn’t say no to an offer to bring about yet another well needed peace treaty with the human world. He dreaded having to keep his deathly cravings at bay, after all, living flesh was all too tempting to a vampire. Well, and even if Salem rarely indulged in sentient beings outside of war it was a risk he didn’t like taking. Taking lives was all too normal for vampires, but when they could reason with you, it made it even harder to stomach.

This was essentially an early promotion, but it felt like a chore. Salem was used to those, but he didn’t think the Dark Court would stoop so low as to give the man who was clearly as uninterested in sex as you could get without being fully celibate a mate. Sure, Salem was used to sex, and could navigate the bedroom with ease. But he often ended up preferring to just… read? Sew up old tapestries, perhaps? Talk about philosophy and literature and really do anything but actually do the deed. It was clearly both mocking and praising his last brutal performance with the Northern Tribes, a conglomerate of mixed opinions that needed to be given a lesson in what happens when you disgrace sacred burial sites.

So, Salem sat in his room that he’d be sharing with the human for the next week, a shockingly short amount of time to get used to someone seeing as he’d lived well through half of the usual thousand years a vampire typically got. Why only a thousand years? Madness, typically, otherwise just run of the mill assassins trying to prove shit. Salem didn’t care for life after death, or death after death, he just wanted to be left alone with his books and his history. But the room needed a bit of preparation to look perfect, he’d not touched the corners in two centuries and they needed dusting. Typically the bedroom was reserved as a sleep spot and exiling ground for books Salem hated. Salem rarely came across a book he wasn’t willing to give a chance and rarely slept, so he needed to prepare the space in a way that actually looked presentable. Outside of routine maintenance, the place looked like a haunted house.

So Salem rose from his melancholic, pretentious stupor and set to cleaning about the room. He lit the lamps with fresh oil, moved anything unseemly out of the way that could be construed as a tripping hazard, and replaced the moth eaten curtains and bedsheets among other important cleaning tasks too numerous to list here, that’s how much the place had gone to shit. By the end, Salem was covered in dust and cobwebs and needed to shower. Which, he did, drawing some water and making sure to shave the stubble from his face, scrubbing off not to ceremoniously and then finding some fresh clothes. All of Salem’s clothes save for ceremony or war were the same, it saved him from having to make unnecessary time consuming decisions despite the fact that to all intents and purposes he was immortal and could probably get away with having to choose what to wear (he’d never admit that he just hated the way most clothing felt and didn’t like to be a showoff anyways).

Salem, satisfied that he was presentable, went to the front doorstep of his small manor to greet Stefan. He wanted to make a good first impression and then basically just hide from the human for the next seven days. If he was going to be married, he wasn’t going to go down without a fuss. Hopefully the Dark Court would see how much he hated this, and choose to void the contract or pass it along to someone else.

(haudfhkfzsd I'm so sorry for the late response. It was a messy weekend. I'd say this doesn't normally happen but I'm really not on all that much on weekends.)

The kingdom of Aranial was a small kingdom by the sea. Unfortunately, because their kingdom was in a peninsula, it meant that their kingdom was guarded by sea on all sides save one. Most kingdoms would be overjoyed with this. It was harder to invade a land when there was only so much land to pass through to be invaded. It was easier to watch their borders and protect them from invaders. Unfortunately, that was not so for the kingdom of Aranial. It was a small kingdom. Which meant they also had a smaller population than most other kingdoms. And they had no bordering allies, or really any allies at all. They were so small other kingdoms tended not to waste their breath on them. And this led to invading armies docking in their ports and pirates raising and looting and killing their people. They could not very well say no when opposing armies came marching through their land to reach the mainland. They didn't have enough soldiers to keep them out. They weren't a strong enough force to convince others not to trifle with them. And the pirates, well, it was always bloody when they came. And despite the rising talk of their citizens leaving, they never could. No one had the money to do it. So they were stuck in this loop of never-ending suffering. It was about time the king and queen did something to protect their people and their land. Which meant utilizing their firstborn son and betrothing him to a vampire lord. Something the people were perhaps even more nervous about than the pirates.

Stefan was brooding and rightfully so. He always knew his choice in marriage would never belong to him. That it was his parents that would chose for him. Something advantageous for the kingdom. Part of him was surprised it had taken them this long, and yet taken unaware that it had come so quickly. He was approaching twenty-five soon enough, and most crown princes had been long married by his age and already started producing little spawns so that they had heirs and spares. Disgusting little things. Stefan did not like children. He never had and likely never would. And now he likely would never have children, thank the gods, and thanks to his parents marrying him off to some vampire lord. A lord. Man. Male. Meaning no children. He would never have an heir. He supposed it was a good thing he had three younger sisters. One of them would have a child that could take his place when he went from old age. Though he wasn't sure what would happen to his vampire husband and king. Though if he was dead, he supposed it wouldn't really matter to him anymore. Because he would be dead.

Apparently, this vampire lord of his had requested that Stefan be brought to him for a week to test what. Compatibility? It made him want to laugh. There was no compatibility in arranged marriages. You simply learned to live with one another or you suffered for the rest of your life. Compatibility was a joke. If they were lucky, in time they could learn to be friends. Or at least civil with one another. But only the gods knew how long that would take. And Stefan was a stubborn, stubborn man.

The carriage ride was more comfortable than Stefan would ever admit. He had a three-day boat journey before arriving to the land that this vampire so occupied. When they had docked at port, there was already a carriage waiting for him there, provided by his vampire lordness. The trip to the estate was smooth and the carriage comfortable. The cushions were just the right amount of firmness. There was no stale or musty smell inside. It smelled like essential oils though he couldn't quite put his finger on what. The interior screamed wealth, especially with the soft blanket that had been thrown over his lap when he had unceremoniously fallen asleep. He hadn't meant to but well, he hadn't gotten much sleep on the boat. Sailing was not for him. The constant rocking kept him up and riddled with nausea. He had slept perhaps only a few hours in total on that three-day voyage. It had only taken a few moments in that carriage for him to pass out.

Stefan woke just as they reached the outside of the estate's property. His hair, which had been shorn, was slightly disheveled and he ran his fingers through to try and tame it. He needed to look presentable, if not for the fact that Alabaster was there. Alabaster was one of his father's advisors and closest friends. He was there to make sure Stefan behaved and would be reporting everything back to his parents. Which meant he needed to be on good behavior if he didn't want to come home to closed fists. His lip was currently split and there was bruising hidden beneath his shirt and splayed across his abdomen. He had made the terrible decision to go to his father, alone in his study and tell him exactly why he didn't want to go and what a terrible mistake that was. It did no go very well for Stefan. He didn't usually get into physical altercations with his father but when he did, Stefan never really walked away from that.

The carriage pulled up to the front and the door was opened for him. He placed the blanket to the side and climbed out of the carriage. He took a moment to straighten his clothes. he had been stuffed into that insufferable princely clothing. A blouse, a doublet, a vest, and even a jacket. It was made of fine fabric and embroidery. They were the colors of the sea. It was beautiful, but itchy and he would prefer anything else. Unfortunately for him, his mother made sure the clothes that had been packed were all like the ones he wore now. Absolutely terrible. He had tried to sneak in some of his preferred clothing but had been caught and it removed. So now he was stuck with this for the week.

He flexed his fingers at his side, trying to hide how much they were shaking. He had never met a vampire before. He had only heard stories about them. How terrifying they were. How they loved to feed from humans and drain them dry of their blood. Was this vampire lord going to do that to him? Honestly, he might prefer it if he did kill Stefan. At least then he wouldn't have to go back to his parents. But would it be terribly painful? Was this vampire just an immortal version of what his parents were? He supposed he wouldn't find out until he doors opened and he actually met this vampire.

(Oh, for the sake of the rp, is he transitioned completely or not?)

(Oh no worries! It’s been busy for me too lol)
(As for your question about whether Salem has transitioned fully, I don’t quite know how to answer that because like. Transition is very individual and case by case in how I write it, but he has had top surgery and uses spells to promote facial hair growth and deepened voice. He can still get preggers tho lol. Mostly just because like… I kinda like the whole “seahorse dad” thing just from a purely wholesome perspective as I am a trans man and I’m like…. very gay lmao.)

Upon the return of Salem’s best carriage and guards, containing the prince within, a feeling of dread settled in. Would this prince be demure? Complacent? Airheaded, even? Salem hadn’t any information on the prince besides a painting and a bit of information on the kingdom itself. Salem hadn’t even met the young man’s parents, for Goddess’ sake! He dreaded the idea of some bimbo moron waltzing around and causing more trouble than good. Salem simply wouldn’t consent to a marriage in that case.

Salem stepped out of the house, architecture much unlike what was typical of human living. It was drastic, gothic, but with colorful stained glass in geometric patterns spanning each giant window and enchanted to be temperature controlled, never too hot or cold within the manor. The scholarly robes Salem wore combined with the way the house was structured struck one as almost… churchlike, but not in the way of stuffy robes and ceremony. There was beauty and ritual and art here, and mysticisms and occult on top of that. The house almost seemed… alive.

Salem’s personal sorcerer, Asmodeus-also a vampire-as well as best friend and confidant was awaiting the carriage and unloading the young prince and his human guardian. Salem twirled his braids nervously, kept pushing up his glasses (despite being a vampire with literal night vision, he’d pretty much torched his eyes studying) and wouldn’t stay still. He sincerely hoped this human would want nothing to do with him, but he’d only be all to curious in that case. Salem had a bad habit of being just a bit too nosy for his own good.

But when the prince approached him, Salem could feel the sulky energy radiating off him lik he felt Stefan’s body heat. Salem opened his mouth to greet the prince, but decided to close it and see if Asmodeus could start the conversation by blinking at her in a way that meant, in no uncertain terms, that he was honesty too socially inept to make this conversation work without lots of padding from her. She smirked back, bowing politely before the young prince.

“Welcome to the Manor of the Cruel Lord Night. I can assure you, the name is simply for show. I greet you both with all the honors I have the power to bestow. I hope the journey was successful and comfortable?” she said, her lilting alto slithering into your ears and lulling you into an almost trance, Asmodeus’ voice was so lovely.

(Ahhh okay, sounds good. And haha, _{sometimes I like the mpreg thing so no worries here)}

(Also, I have a couple of exams this week and next so once that's over I'll be on a bit more. It's a work in progress trying to be on here a bit more regularly)

It was evident on Stefan's face that he did not want to be here. Even with the glower that Alabaster was giving him wasn't enough tor raise a smile on his lips. Besides, smiling hurt with his slip lip. Honestly doing anything other than his natural resting face, which was most definitely a resting bitch face, brought pain to his lip. If it could be helped, he'd prefer not to add further pain to the injury.

Stefan knew next to nothing about his supposed betrothed. He had been sent a painting that he had barely gotten to look at. He knew that he was a vampire lord, and he knew his name though he preferred not to say. It was easier to pretend he didn't exist when Stefan didn't speak his name into existence. Though he supposed it didn't matter now that he was here and standing in front of his manor. It was a beautiful manor and something he would never admit. It was a gothic style that was high unusual for human society, but Stefan loved it. It was the type of aura that he could just curl up in the library with a fire roaring and a blanket wrapped around him as he read a book. He detested that. He detested that this was a place he might actually enjoy, given he wasn't used as a human blood bag.

His vampire betrothed stepped out of the house and on to the steps. He supposed he should start calling him Salem now that he was standing in front of him. It didn't matter if he spoke it into existence or not, Salem was here and real and alive. Well, alive was debatable. Technically speaking, he wasn't. Another issue with this potential relationship, and one he was choosing to ignore.

He looked up the lord, watching him as Salem was watching Stefan. The lord was fidgeting quiet a lot and his frown deepened. He must not do this often. Stefan did. He met different people plenty. Well, not betroths, but still lords and ladies he had rarely seen in his life And there was the occasional monarch that he would visit. Stefan could delegate and negotiate and be cordial with others. It was what he was trained to do though he would much rather tell everyone to fuck off and shut down the borders.

His eyes shifted to the sorcerer as she spoke, trying not to snort as she introduced the vampire lord. Cruel Lord Night sounded like something out of his books. Of course, he had heard of his reputation, of course, he was terrified of being used once again by someone, but the name he had been given wasn't as terrifying to Stefan as it likely was to other people. He shouldn't find the situation funny but he deflected to humor in times of high stress.

"The journey was quick and smooth. Thank you for the warm welcome," Alabaster greeted in return with a warm smile. One that only Stefan knew was fake. "May I introduce the Heir to the Crown, Prince Stefan Augustus Fraiser." Said prince merely tilted his head in recognition. He did not bow. No, not when he was of higher status than this vampire lord. Even if this vampire lord could kill him easily.

Salem took Stefan’s hand, one arm behind his back and the other holding the young prince’s hand. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the man’s knuckles, carefully detached so as not to startle or bother the young man. Or at least, not too much. It was good to come off as commanding in some circumstances.

“It’s wonderful to meet you. You may address me as Salem.” he said, raising himself back to full height. “I hope we get along well and that we get to know each other in good faith.” Salem’s voice was gentle and soft, well mannered and kind. He smiled, looking over the young prince. Stefan was a tad too thin, as if he was underfed, and a tad too bruised to not be concerned. He looked ashamed, almost, of what Salem could only guess.

“Please enjoy all aspects of your stay here. My home is your home, just as my heart is to belong to you.” he said, doing a very good job of not panicking and stumbling over his words.

(Sorry for the short response lol I’ve been busy)

(You're fine!! I have been too)

Stefan watched with a careful eye as Salem bent at the waist to press a kiss to his knuckles. It took everything in him not to cringe at the contact. Was that his fangs he just felt? He did his best to disguise his disgust and lingering fear as he returned his hand to his side. He took half a step back, putting some space between him and the vampire. The problem was that it put him in closer vicinity to Alabaster. The latter placed his hand on Stefan's back, making him almost shrink in disgust. His parents had given the man permission to discipline him as necessary. He had already felt his stinging words more than once on the journey here.

The pressure increased on his back, all but demanding he respond to the lord. His jaw clenched. "Likewise." He did not mean likewise. "And you may call me Stefan." There, that was sufficient was it not? The hand on his back didn't lessen in the slightest. Perhaps not but there was nothing else he wished to share. Not at this time.

He didn't like how Salem was looking at him. How he was analyzing him. It felt like Salem was trying to look at his soul and untangle the web that lay inside of him. He hated that. He separated himself from others for a reason. He didn't wish to get to know anyone. He was content with his books for company. They didn't speak, they didn't hurt. At least not in the physical sense. They couldn't unleash years of trauma on him. Books were safe. People, vampires, were not.

"It has been a long journey. I think we would like to freshen up before dinner if that is alright," Alabaster said from behind him. That was code for a very strong and insulting talking to. One that he was not looking forward to but he couldn't very well object to it. Not when Alabaster was reporting everything back to his parents with ravens.

Salem didn’t know what to think of Stefan. The young prince seemed too distant to be truly and wholeheartedly interested in the marriage, almost as hateful of the concept as Salem was if not somehow more. He also saw how Alabaster set his hand on Stefan’s back, and instinctively, it made the vampire protective. Alabaster didn’t get to touch this head case, he was all Salem’s to dissect and figure out.

Salem made a mental note to not allow Alabaster anywhere near Stefan for the rest of their stay if he could help it. There seemed something all too telling in the intentions of that contact. He also made a mental note to have Asmodeus keep an eye on the prince’s guardian.

“Well, that doesn’t sound too bad to me,” he smiled, but his lips remained closed. Salem had always been a tad embarrassed of his fangs, not wanting to show them off the same way other vampires like Asmodeus did. “I’ll show you each to your rooms personally, I hope you don’t mind sleeping separately but I’d like Stefan to stay with me in my quarters.” Quarters that, unknown to Stefan and his guardian, Salem never used. It was all a ruse to get Stefan alone and recovering from whoever delivered those bruises-a person whom, Salem suspected, was likely unfortunately close to Stefan.

Stefan didn't know what to think of that. He would be staying with Salem. Every night. Would they be sharing a bed? Of course, they would be. He doubted that Salem would allow for a second bed to be brought it. He could try to breach the topic of Stefan sleeping on the ground, but again, he doubted that would happen. While Stefan was rather open with his sexuality, he worried that he might actually be used for his body. That would be a first for him. At least in a manner where he didn't reciprocate.

He had a few lovers in the past but not many and nothing worth noting. They had all been individuals of high intellect and had been more to scratch an itch than anything else. And they had never been anyone that his parents would have approved. Apprentices and acolytes and librarians. Someone who would "stain" his reputation should they be seen together. He had always been very careful at keeping those relationships hidden. And he had succeeded, for the most part, that was.

Alabaster's smile pulled slightly, his jaw tightening and his hand pressing more into Stefan's back. He did not like that in slightest, but who was he to tell their hosts no? He would find a way around this. He had been given clear instructions and he would follow them through. "Of course, lead the way." He gestured with his hand, indicating they would follow. It was only then that his hand dropped from Stefan's back.

Salem led them solemnly through the halls, but his silence was mostly due to an internal panic. He showed Alabaster to his room first, allowing Asmodeus to show the man around the plush and luxurious suite. She closed the door behind the two of them, leaving Salem and Stefan alone together.

“Er… I’ve never really met a human outside of the context of war before. Excuse my ignorance and shyness around you, I don’t…” Salem sighed. “I only really know about human culture from my books of your people, most of which are written by vampires with a bit of a prejudice. Our societies, as you may know, have been largely devoid of contact for the last few centuries.” he said, “well. Besides war, that is. It’s a shame, I’ve heard you have some wonderful culinary and artistic treasures I’d love to immerse myself in.” Salem noted as he led them up the winding stairs, up to his personal quarters.

Once they stopped at his door, he paused, opening the door before continuing his little questionnaire. “I recommend you stick to the books from your culture only. I doubt you’ll enjoy any of our literature, it’s a bit gory for what I’d assume any human would like. Plus, it isn’t even in the same language.” Salem added. “Would you like anything? The servants can get it for you.”

Alabaster smiled tightly as he was shown to his room and gave Stefan a look that promised that this was not over yet. These bedroom conditions would not keep him from the prince. He was given a task of the utmost importance and he would carry it out. He would not let this little prince ruin this because he did not want to get married. Princes and princesses had to marry all the time for political and financial reasons, this was no different. Once the deed was done, the prince could do as he wished. If he wished to have lovers, so be it, as long as this marriage was sealed.

Stefan merely turned his head away, appearing indifferent to Alabaster if only to anger him. He was smug with how easily it was to truly get on that man's nerves. At least it took more to irritate his parents. They put up more of a fight than their advisor. Despite his fear of the vampire, his interest was taken at the mention of literature. He could care less about what it was about as long as he found it interesting. And seeing the vampire side of history would indeed be interesting to him as long as it was in a language he could understand, which was many. He didn't particularly have a good view of his own kind so the prejudice would likely make him laugh.

He walked a step and a half behind Salem as if that would save him if the vampire lord or anyone else tried to jump him. Their inhumane speed would beat him any day, even if he was naturally gifted in cardio (and yes that has multiple meanings). He tried to peak into the room as the door was cracked open, while also trying to remain nonchalant and disinterested. "No," he simply said. He knew he could be more polite but he truly did not care at the moment. Not when he would rather be at home, where he at least knew what to expect than here. Here, he didn't know what might come flying at him.

Salem allowed Stefan to give the answer he needed to give. Being more emotionally healthy than most vampires came at the expense of not wanting to really push things, and it wasn’t much to show for when you still had more issues than any given human ever would. He simply nodded, giving him a small, softer smile that showed just the slightest amount of fangs.

“Very well. If you need anything, just ask the guards. They’ll be posted at your door day and night, everything here except the uppermost floor you can consider yours. Asmodeus isn’t very enthusiastic of people touching or meddling with her things.” he said. Salem then made his exit, politely greeting the pair of guards that now stood outside Stefan’s door.

Salem’s room was mostly full of books, but there was a wardrobe there that had a few outfits within, all the same color and style and cut. They were the same robes Salem had worn earlier, and they were a tad baggy on Salem but perfect for Stefan. They were almost like scholars’ robes, just with more royal colors. There were also several broken and spare pairs of glasses within a small box in the room, as well as a fireplace and a bed and a washroom. Otherwise, not much was here. It gave the impression of an unused space, full and empty at the same time.

Meanwhile, Asmodeus had long since left the room Alabaster was to stay in, in her current form she’d be of no use and so she cast a spell to turn herself into a small insect and crept into Alabaster’s room, hitching a ride on the tail of his robes. She kept an eye on his every move; vampiric guards lay outside his door as well and so there was no way he’d be left unchecked. She’d already gone through the same spiel as Salem, explaining that he could have anything he wanted and the guards would handle it. But it still was very restricting of at least Alabaster as she’d also instructed him not to leave the room for his own safety, too many magical things around to cause trouble as it was and besides, the place was comfortable enough and it didn’t really matter as long as he and the young prince were safe and blah blah blah.

(Not the emotionally healthy vampire XD)

The problem with being told not to do something made Stefan all the more curious to do it. Asmodeus had been the woman posted next to Salem when he had been greeted, and the woman currently with Alabaster. He wondered how well that was going. Alabaster didn't take kindly to women. He believed them to be inferior to men. What Stefan wouldn't give to see her put him in his place? He would sell his own heart to watch it happen. She was magic, and likely had magical artifacts that he now wanted to see. He wouldn't give in to these urges just yet. He would record her schedule and learn when she would be away from her rooms before going snooping. He just wanted to see her office and see any neat trinkets she might have. Not that he would ever admit that he was curious about it.

Stefan didn't know what to think. When it was announced that he would be staying in Salem's room, he had expected Salem to actually stay here with him. And, well, he thought Salem would have expected something of him, as one does when you're taken to the bedroom. Stefan was no virgin by any account, but he had never been forced or manipulated into it. And that's what he thought would have happened here. But his betrothed had shown him the room and simply left, leaving him to his own devices. So he did what anyone would do in his position, he began to snoop.

He opened up drawers, looking through them before placing everything back in its place. He looked through the books, looking for anything that might suggest otherwise to peace between his kingdom and here. He looked around the room for anything that might be of interest to him, all while remaining quite and refraining from making a mess. By the time he had finished, everything remained in its place and he wasn't sure he should be happy or not he didn't find anything incriminating.

The room itself was a mystery to him. It looked as though it was some place to hide away, not retire for the night. It felt as though it wasn't truly lived in. Sure, Salem's clothing was there and he had a few belongings, but it didn't truly feel like anyone cared about this room. Stefan supposed he could understand that. His own room at the palace was devoid of any life. There was nothing in that room that truly made it his. It screamed wealth and money and exactly what a prince should sleep in. It was his study that he had truly made his own. Anyone could walk in there and just know it was his. But this, this room felt empty.

With nothing else he truly wanted to do, he found a book on the shelf written not by his own kind, but by a vampire. He sat down on the windows eal seat and began to read.

Salem wandered the halls of his home, feeling a million little conflicted and confused emotions as he did so. On the one hand, Stefan probably hated him, and rightfully so. Salem didn’t like Stefan any more. Maybe Salem was more polite, but truthfully, he was only interested in understanding the man. Salem didn’t have or hold any sort of affection for Stefan, and he preferred to keep it that way. It wasn’t like they’d ever truly love each other. Salem just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t kill the human out of frustration, not that that was every something the rational him would consider. But still.

Meanwhile, the book Stefan had picked up was nonsensical. It was a mess of art and writing that looked like it was from another era. Truth be told, it was. Vampires didn’t do changes like that. But the art was diagrams of vampire anatomy, some parts being oddly intimate in the was they portrayed fangs, teeth, claws, venom. Eventually it got to the parts that were more similar to humans, and that was even worse.

It showed the differences between human and vampire in a very clinically artistic sense. It was all so strange and one could barely piece together the facts when the language didn’t even look like words. Just geometric shapes interlacing and entwining as they overlapped diagrams and drawings and seemed to suspend the art within.

Stefan was immediately captured by the book. It was clearly so different from his own literature and art. Humans were ever-evolving. There was always something new. Something to explore and to see. A new way of living. And yet, it seemed as though vampires were stuck in their ways. Sure, he had heard the rumors, but he had never truly understood how bad it had been until he began or read this book. It was so clear that they hadn't evolved for years. They were clearly set in their own ways. Stefan didn't understand why. Did none of them truly have that drive to learn more?

The sun was setting by the time Stefan had finished the book and his stomach was rumbling loud enough that he could ignore it no longer. He hadn't eaten since that morning and even then, he had barely eaten a bite. The nerves had prevented him from stomaching much. He placed the book back on the shelf before looking at the door. It was just a door. All he had to do was walk out of it. Yet it felt like he was walking into the war zone that was his country.

One step at a time, he finally placed his hand on the doorknob but he did not turn it. Not yet, anyway. He took a deep breath. he was no coward. He could do this. He turned the knob and pulled the door open before he could think otherwise. He stepped outside, looking at the guards posted by his door. Well, Salem's door. "I would like some dinner," he said.

Certainly, vampire society had been more successful and technologically advanced than that of the humans for a while, but eventually, all that progress ground to a halt in favor of a democracy and bureaucracy. They were certainly slightly above humans nowadays, but humans were catching up quickly and were forecast to surpass that of the vampires within the next 200 years. Certainly more than a lifetime for Stefan, but still. It was an important issue that vampires simply failed to address.

The guard signaled to another guard down the hall, this guard walked off in order to go do… something, apparently.

“Master Lysander would like to eat with you. He asked if you would mind meeting him in the dining hall.” the first guard, a large, broad, powerful woman said.

(I'M ALIVEEEEEE. I'm so sorry for disappearing. I just needed a few days away)

Stefan looked at the guard, a woman. It was strange to him to see such a thing. His kingdom did not allow women to be soldiers, or to have any real position of power at all. He had heard of a few kingdoms that treated women as equals but he had never truly seen it for himself. It was strange to him. Not because he didn't believe women weren't equal, but because he had just never seen it done before. His father would prattle on and on about the incompetencies of women, right in front of his mother, mind you. Any time a woman tried to do anything at all, he would constantly hear the gossip and rumors. He had never actually seen a woman with such power before.

However, his discrete awe turned to annoyance. Did he truly have to dine with his betrothed? He supposed he did. It was Salem's house and he was here to be with Salem. And if his family ever found out that he turned him down, well, it was better for him to join Salem for dinner. For now, anyways. But the moment any fangs went for his neck, he was gone and out of there. Damn the consequences. He would not be a human blood bag. He was already a punching bag. He didn't want to add more to it.

Stefan merely gestured for the woman to lead the way and he would follow. Begrudgingly, but he would follow.

The guard wordlessly ushered Stefan down towards the dining hall, down halls of thousands of bookshelves filled to capacity with books of every subject you could think of. From the cultures of the Fair Folk, May They Rest Undisturbed, to werewolves to dwarves to fauns and all number of others, you found it all. The dining hall was worse. It looked like a full-blown library, with different platforms and ladders showing you to all manner of books and information, scrolls and diagrams and displays of ancient artifacts. The only thing out of place in this labyrinth of books was the dining table, loaded with fine foods from every place imaginable, no expense spared to prepare the perfect meal. “Hello,” Salem said shyly, as if they were young lovers and not simply forced into this conundrum of a marriage by their respective authority figures.

Stefan couldn't hide his wonder as they walked through the halls. There were books everywhere. If he hadn't been in the home of a vampire, he would think that he was in heaven. He wanted to spend an eternity reading these books. He knew it would take him just as long to read them all, maybe even longer. There were so many. Where did he want to begin? He couldn't decide. Maybe he would close his eyes and pull one at random. Given the chance, he would spend his entire time here reading. He might even offer up his neck if it meant he was left alone to read.

It was odd to him to have a dining table amidst the labyrinth of a library, but no less welcomed. Perhaps the only thing that would have made it better was if his vampire betrothed hadn't been there. But he couldn't very well control that, and the awe of the books hadn't worn off just yet. He supposed he could tolerate him so long as he was still able to smell the books.

He pulled out a chair and sat as far away from Salem as he was able to, looking at the vampire when he spoke. His lip didn't curl up in disgust but he blamed it on the presence of the books. He felt at peace among them, even if he was in a strange place among monsters. He had lived his whole life with monsters. He could find peace in places not everyone expected.