I don't know where I got the inspiration for this little ficklet. It's awful short, and a little...eh, what's the word? Well, whatever. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I tried begging Judal-sama for the rights to Vampire Game, but after blocking my telephone number and my email address and burning all the letters I sent her, she sent Sharlen after me so I had to give up. Sorry, but that means it's not mine.
The darkened bedchamber was filled with priceless treasures and dusty relics, memories of kingdoms plundered and lives forgotten. The only light in the room was provided by candles mounted to the walls and lying on the tables. The flickering light painted the walls with dancing shadows; it illuminated the two men lying on the bed entangled in each other's arms. The black silk sheets beneath their bodies were rumpled and creased. They lay their like that for the longest time, silent and unmoving, their alternating breaths and beating hearts the only signs of life.
Abruptly, one of them rose from the bed and moved to the discarded pile of clothes in the middle of the floor. The other man, lying atop the rumpled sheets, lifted himself onto his elbows and watched him.
"Going so soon?
Phelios did not reply, merely went on with the task of donning his clothes. A pair of leggings, pants, a belt. His matted golden hair made a halo around his face; his grey eyes were clouded with undecipherable emotions. Sweat slicked his limber body, making him shine in the candlelight.
Silently, Duzell stood up and trod over to Phelios. Standing behind him, he ran his hands up and down the king's spine. Phelios shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Duzell pressed his lips to the space where his neck connected to his shoulders. Suddenly, quick as lightning, Phelios whirled and shoved the other man forcefully away from him. Duzell stumbled back in surprise, until he bumped into a chair and sat down in it.
"Don't touch me, vampire!" Phelios shouted. Then he paused and shut his eyes, forcefully calming himself. He continued putting on his clothes. An undershirt, a tunic, a cape. After what seemed an age, he spoke.
"My wife is with child. My child."
"Congratulations," Duzell replied scathingly. "Do say hello to your wife for me!"
Phelios didn't answer. He opened the door and silently walked out. As the door closed with a small click, Duzell whispered to the still air, "And so it begins."
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