Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Ariana Lenoir]

---

[[Many, many, -many- years ago... Catherine = Ariana's great (x many) grandmother]]


Catherine watched solemnly as the parade of soldiers filed past her in a steady, scripted march on their way out of the city. She stood with her mother and father, her green eyes scrutinizing the faces of the young men as she searched for familiarity among their features for her beloved Lucius. She smiled brightly, the sadness washed from her beautiful face as she caught sight of him. She waved and smiled at him, but he didn't even turn his head to look at her. She frowned slightly as she studied his eyes, the once brilliant green seemed darker and colder than she had ever seen.

It has been only the night before that she had been given the dire news of his forced recruitment into the King's army. He had spent almost five years serving in an apprenticeship under his father who was a highly skilled shipwright. He had soared under his father's tutelage and experience, quickly learning the fine art of not only repairing ships, but building them as well. Only that last summer he had constructed a new design and built a prototype as a working model. The ship was magnificent and not only seaworthy, but an improvement. It's construction improved not only the speed, but its durability against attack with its triple-layered, lightweight hull. The design earned him not only his father's praise, but a lucrative contract by the military to begin construction on a dozen more.

That had changed overnight.

It was high summer and the King's army was passing from village to city as it marched. The head officers came to the central square, unrolled a parchment and began to read from it. "Hear Ye. Hear Ye. By order of the King, every able-bodied man between the ages of thirteen and forty are hereby drafted into the King's army. There will be no exceptions to this rule and status nor money will allow for any prejudice in this matter. All those who fit this criteria are to report at once to the officer's tend on the north side of the city. We will be immediately inspecting all homes and businesses to insure that no one is... accidently, of course, exempt from the King's law." He had rolled up the parchment and then motioned and several groups split from the ranks and began to file their way into the city. The night had been filled with the sounds of women weeping and the screams of young boys as the men were ripped from their families.

She took a deep breath as she continued to wave, trying to keep her eyes still against the tears threatening to cascade down her cheeks. She had lost her heart and her innocence to him as they had reaffirmed their love and their desire for a future together. They had even talked of marriage. The contracts after the Stormrunners were completed would provide not only for a sizable wedding, but see to a family's needs as was proper for him if he was to be her husband.

She waved until he was long out of sight. Her mother placed her hand lightly on her forearm, coaxing her towards the home. She looked down whispering softly as the shadows lengthened as the sun seemed to follow the army on its march westward, "Please watch over him and bring him home safely to me. "

[Epoch]

---

The betrayal: One life for another

The officer walked through the village with his detachment of soldiers grabbing every able-bodied man for the upcoming battle to be used as conscripts. He came upon a shipwright's son of notable fame for his designs in war vessels known as Stormrunners. He was 16, short even for the day. A topknot and fair features with a baby face, his eyes were as round as a doe and eyes as green as an emerald.

"You there!"

"Who there?"

"You!!"

"Me who?!"

"You're to join the kings army."

"Nu-uh"

"I'm not asking you boy!"

"In that case have a nice day."

He tries to walk away when a rope goes tight around his neck jerking him to the ground. The troops laugh. The young man laughs too. His eyes then go narrow and the laughter turns into a wide smile. During the long march, he hums children's lullabies to the chagrin of his captors who poke him to stop, which only causes the young man to start singing about wives cheating on their husbands while they're at war and funeral dirges of the fallen.

They come upon the main encampment and are ushered into a pen where the overlord tells them their mission.

"You are to go into the enemy camp while they're sleeping and kill the king!! With that done, the war will be over and you shall return home."

The young man smells a lie as a sheep herder can smell coming rain. Conscripts to kill a king. Most laughable.

"Are any of you scouts?"

"Aye." The young man raises his hand even though he has no training in ANY field other than shipbuilding. The overlord smells a lie to but doesn't care to call it out.

"So be it boy. You lead them in."

When night fell over the camp the cannonfodder were issued weapons for their mission. The young man grabs a spear and sets out with his group. He looks back at the overlord and smiles. The overlord feels unnerved. As he goes he scribbles on a scroll then takes off. The night is colder than usual as the men not covered begin to shiver. The young man walks ahead of the rest leading them......somewhere.

By mere chance just before dawn dumb luck prevails and the camp of the enemy is found. He goes up to the guards with the rest of his men still a ways back. Still in the dead of the night deep within the darkness a pair of eyes are set upon him curious to his goings on.

"Halt!!"

"Shut up. I bring news of an impending attack upon your king. I also bring news of numbers and where-a-bouts of your king's enemy and his desperation."

The men listen as the news is passed on. A trap is devised for the coming assassins. The young man returns to his group and states he has seen the king and how they should attack. They listen not knowing what lay before them. They charge in....the young man does not. Given his pardon he goes off into the dark.
"Not my king, I die for no one."

"Do you always talk to yourself?" The darkness asks.

The attack is not going well for the men.

"Yes. Perhaps I am talking to myself right now and have yet to meet the voice of my own making."

"No my young friend, my voice is claimed by me for it is my own voice."

"Does this voice have a face?"

"You do not fear what you can not see?"

"Why should I? For all I know you could be a cute little bunny. That would make me foolish for fearing and tiny bunny."

"A bunny that can talk?"

"Why not?"

"Interesting. A deal then? Given your current predicament of betraying your king leaving me as the soul witness. I offer an exchange."

"A trade for what?"

"I will take away your old life and give you a new one. Your old body will become forever young. never dying, aging, or getting sick."

"And you get........?"

"A new companion is all."

"Sure.....why not. Give me my new life little bunny and I shall be your friend."

A form materializes from the shadows as it jumps upon the young man. The supernatural strength holds the boy down with no effort as the fangs drive deep into his neck. At the brink of death, the older man slits his wrist and feeds his own blood into the boys mouth. He drinks from the man's wrist. A feeling of ecstasy washes over them both. Pleasure and pain more potent then the most erotic of drugs or the most powerful of hammers. The man becomes weak and tries to draw away. The young man now infused with the strength of the elder holds fast and strong. More panicked the man tries to push away yelling at him.

"Enough Lucius, Enough!!"

He pays the man no heed as he begins to devour his essence of being, his very soul. The deed being done the body dies only to be reborn now a member of the undead. The older man's body turns to dust.

"Say hello to the night for I already know what I am and what I am to do. I've always known Pontiface, I was just waiting for you to show up."

[Ariana Lenoir]

---

Catherine wept as she read the message.

"We regret to inform you..." it started.

Catherine's eyes scanned over the letter, her body heaving as the tears streamed down her cheeks. She placed her hand on her swollen belly as sobs wracked her very pregnant body.

It had been seven months, almost to the day, since Lucius had been recruited forcefully into the King's army. Soon after he had left, she had discovered herself with child. Out of fear of her parent's reaction, she had managed to hide the pregnancy for another 3 months until the swell of her belly became too large to disguise with loose clothing. They had yelled and exclaimed their disappointment and disapproval at her choices, but the time to terminate the pregnancy safely had long since passed. For the safety of mother and the ever-growing child within her, the healers said it must be carried to term.

Her mother came and laid a hand on her shoulder, even as she wept. Catherine turned to her, burying her face into her shoulder as she sobbed at the news. Her beloved Lucius was dead. The army had been slaughtered in the dead of night and the enemy had left no one alive. She cried, choking out the words, "He can't be dead... he was supposed to come back to me..." She laid a hand on her belly as she grunted out as if in pain, "He didn't know he was going to be a father. Our child will never know..." Her words with cut off with a sharp gasp as her other hand joined the first as it clenched her belly as a contraction gripped her. Coupled with the pain as labor began and the grief that seemed to grip her soul, the world became a blur as she fainted into his mother's arms.

Night descended and passed. It was well into the next evening, when a newborn's wails pierced the chilly night air.

A son was born.

[Ariana Lenoir]

---

Catherine looked down at the tiny bundled nestled safely in her arms. "Welcome to the world, my son." She smiled down at him, her slender fingers gently pulling the linen blanket from his face. She whispered softly to him as she leaned over to rub her nose against the infant's cheek, "I will call you Lucius... after your father. " She smiled down at his tiny face. Tears welled up in her eyes as the memory of the letter was rekindled, but fatigue smothered any chance of the tears spilling into reality.

"You can't name the child after him, Catherine." her mother's voice remarked softly from the foot of the bed. Catherine looked up to see her mother and father standing there.

"Why not?" Catherine asked, frowning slightly.

"The choice you made to lose your innocence to that boy..." her father started.

"... Lucius..." Catherine interjected firmly.

Her father cleared his throat with a stern expression, "The choice you made to lose your innocence to... Lucius... foolishly will be your shame to bear alone. We will not allow you to shame his family by broadcasting that their son shared in this shameful act.

"Our baby isn't something to be ashamed of..." she protested quickly.

Her mother laid a hand on her father's arm and looked at him a moment. he grunted and turned, leaving the room. Her mother came to sit down next to her, resting her hand lightly on the baby's brow. "The child can not have his name. It would dishonor not only his family, but his memory as one of the most promising shipbuilders this generation has seen. You don't want that, now do you? In your heart he will be Lucius's and your father and I will know the memory, but no one else."

"No one..."

"No one." Her mother said firmly, "Not even the infant when he is grown."

Catherine frowned as she looked back down to the sleeping infant. "What will I tell him?"

"We have kept you hidden since your belly became swollen with child and you know we have passed around the story that you were on a trip. Your father and I think it is best that we simply say that in your travels you were married to a man and were then widowed due to the war. With so many men being recruited, it is a plausible story. With the addition that the child came early, most shouldn't question its authenticity."

"He will never have Lucius's last name? What am I to call him?" she asked.

Her mother leaned over and kissed Catherine's forehead lightly, "That will be your choice. Your father will arrange the details and I will help spread the gossip at the washing rocks as that is the fastest way to have gossip spread. When you decide on a name, we will see it done." She stood and looked back at the two, "You've chosen a hard life, Catherine. Even under the false truth of widowhood, you may have condemned yourself to a life alone, I hope it was worth it "

Catherine looked up at her mother, "It was worth it..." She looked back to the baby boy, "He is worth it..." Her mother nodded gently and left quietly shutting the door behind her.

Catherine leaned over and kissed the baby's nose gently, "I am sorry you will never meet your father, but I promise I will tell you all about him even if its under the name of another. As far as a name..." She trailed off for a moment, her mind recalling the memories of all those summer days she and Lucius had spent together. It was in those hazy, warm memories that the child's name came to her. She smiled as her eyes refocused on the precious bundle in her arms, "I will call you Lucien Lenoir... Your real father was a fantastic shipwright and he designed a new ship called a Stormrunner that was said to be able to outrun even the weather itself. It was on the night that they christened the first of his ships and set it into the sea. He was given the honor of naming it. Le Noir. "

She smiled down at the child and placed him in the bassinet near her bed. She laid on her side as a gentle night breeze drifted in from the open window. She prayed that night softly to herself that whatever Gods there were, that they would give word to her Lucius that she had bore him a son. She drifted off to sleep asking them for a sign that Lucius knew, even beyond the veil of death, that his blood would live on even though he did not.

[Ariana Lenoir]

---

In the middle of the night, Catherine awoke to the sounds of little Lucien crying fitfully. Unbeknown to the young mother, it wasn't the sound of hunger, but rather the sharper cry as if the child were in pain. Being startled awake at the abruptness of the cry, she fumbled her hand to the nightstand and turned up the oil lamp. A warm glow filled the room as the flame flickered and grew. Catherine rubbed her eyes and looked down at the bassinet and screamed. There in her baby's hands was a red rose, its sharp thorns had pricked the delicate, thin skin of the newborn and set it to wailing.

Her mother and father rushed in even as Catherine scooped up the crying child into her arm and set to prying the tiny fingers from the thorny stem which now bore several droplets of the child's blood upon it.

"What is wrong?" Her mother exclaimed with a look of fright at having been awoken from the dead of sleep by her daughter's scream.

Somehow Lucien got ahold of this stupid rose and pricked his fingers. " she said as she wiggled the last part of the rose from the wailing child's hands. She discarded the rose upon the bed and brought the crying child to her chest, cooing softly. "There, there. Mommy is here now..." she said, pulling back and kissing the tiny marks on his hands.

Her mother went over to the side of the bed and picked up the rose. Her father grunted with a scowl and was about to turn to leave when the mother let out a sharp gasp. Written on one of the leaves in dark lettering were words. The words appeared dark red, almost black, against the vibrant green leaves. Even though the mother brushed her thumb over them they did not smear. It was as if the substance used to write them was absorbed literally into the leaf and not simply laid upon it.

The words read, "Your father watches..." and it was signed simply, "~E~"

The mother handed the rose to the Catherine's father even as she read the message aloud. Her father looked it over carefully and then his face paled visibly.Her father was a very religious, god-fearing man. "It is a message from God, surely " he stammered. He looked at the child as he dropped to his knees and clasped his hands. "It is a sign from God that despite the sinful way this child came to be given life, that he has not forsaken us or this child." He bowed his head and began to pray. The mother dropped to her knees as well, joining the father in the reciting of psalms and prayers.

Young Catherine looked down at little Lucien who had since quieted from his painful ordeal and smiled at the boy. She whispered softly to him before she followed her parents in prayer, "Your father knows... he knows..."

Meanwhile outside, perched on the rooftop across the street was a lone figure outlined by the faint light of the night sky and the streetlamps that flickered quietly. The one formally known as Lucius smirked as what seemed to be amusement flickered in his haunting green eyes. Epoch Le Noir took one last look and turned, walking loudly along the tiled roof as a woman in the house below his feet yelled at her husband, "Corbin! Get up! I hear those damn rats on the roof again. This is the fourth time this week. Corbin! Are you listening to me?"

[Ariana Lenoir]

---

"It's a rose..." the young girl said with a slight smirk on her lips.

"Yes, but it is a very special rose, " her father said as he watched her light blue eyes study the vibrant rose surrounded by glass. "How is it special, Ariana?"

The young girl drew her face closer and studied the rose. It was a vibrant red rose half-budded atop a green-thorned stem with a trio of leaves to one side. It rested against a a beautiful shard of y-shaped obsidian that was anchored to the dark wood circular bottom. A dome of flawless glass covered it and nestled securely into a a carved trench in the stained walnut base. The rose was beautiful and looked as if it has just been picked. Its petals looked like they were just beginning to unfurl into a beautiful flower. It had been that way for as long as Ariana could remember. She had never seen her parents water it, or even lift it from its protective case and yet it continued to live.

"It's alive." the girl answered, her eyes still intent on it.

"Yes. Why is that?" her father asked as her mother sat down next to him, her swollen belly heavy with the twins soon to come.

She scrunched her nose in contemplation as she answered, "I donnae know."

"Let me tell ye a story o' this rose an' why it is very important t'our family, " he said as he gently put it down on the end table and patted his lap. Ariana smiled and scrambled onto it, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck as she nestled down to listen...


Many generations and... many centuries ago. There was a beautiful young woman who fell in love with the most handsome of young men. They would often lay awake at night talking about how deep their love was.

"I love you more than the ocean loves the shore, " she would say.

He would smile at her and say, "I will always return, just as the waves come back time and time again, so shall I to you."

"I love you more than the moons love the sky, " she would whisper.

"I will always watch over you as the moons do the world, for even when I can not be seen, I will am always there."

"I love you more than life itself, my beloved." she would say softly into his ear.

"An' I love you more than Death itself, for even Death could not break the bond of our love and keep me from you."

The two enjoyed many years together, until one day when an injured soldier came to their doorstep. He told them, as they tried to give him water and comfort in his dying breaths, that he was on his way to warn the King that there was a plot against him from one of the most evil of barons. He managed to share the details of this horrible plot and as the last word escaped his lips, he passed away in the young woman's arms.

The young man whom loved his country and his king, told his young love that he must take up this poor soldier's task and inform the king of this treachery. She begged him not to go, but as he took her hands in his he said, "My love. If I did not do what is honorable, you would not love me as truly as you do. I will always return to you as the ocean does the shore, I will love you as deeply as the spring grass does the rain and I will watch over you endlessly as the moons do the world... not even Death itself would keep me from setting my eyes upon you once more." Despite the fear, the young woman nodded and after they buried the poor soldier, they spent one last night together before he would depart.

The young man left and the woman was beside herself with worry about her love. Many months passed and soon the woman grew with the child that was conceived the night before their parting. Nine months to the day after he had left on his journey, a messenger came giving grave news to the young woman. Her husband had been assassinated while he saved the life of his King from an assassin. The woman cried and wept at the loss of her one true love and the knowledge that their child would never meet him. It was that anguish which struck the labor pains upon her and by the next evening, she bore a son and she named him Lucien.

When she was alone or the child was asleep, she would weep as she remembered the promises he had made. She thought herself so foolish to truly believe that love could never be parted. She prayed to the Gods to give her some sign her true love was still watching over them and that his promise was true.

Late one night after she had spent many hours weeping and praying, she fell asleep near Lucien's crib as the child slept soundly within it. She awoke suddenly as Lucien's cries filled the room. She went to the crib to scoop him into her arms and was amazed. There in the child's hands was a beautiful red rose bud, it's tiny thorns had pricked the child's hands and set him to wailing. An inscription lay on the leaf that read ""Your father watches..." and it was signed "~E~"

It was a sign from beyond the grave from her husband that he kept his promise and the Gods surely felt so moved by their love that they permitted him to return. It was only after a couple days had passed that the true awe of the gift was realized. For the rose whose stem had been cut, had not died. In fact it continued to thrive and each year as Lucien grew older, so would the rose come closer to bloom. The rose seemed to be tied to Lucien's life for even when a cold or illness briefly passed over Lucien, the rose seemed to grow sickly-looking during that time as well.

When Lucien became grown and at the age when a boy becomes a man, the rose bloomed fully. It was full of life as if it's own vitality reflected that of the boy as he came into manhood. Every year after that, little by little, the rose seemed to begin to wilt and die.

Eventually a number of years later, Lucien took his own wife and to their home was born a son. On the next moonrise after the child's birth, the new parents placed the dying rose into the child's hands to honor Lucien's father. The child wailed loudly as the thorn's pierced his tiny hands. Lucien and his wife watched in amazement as the rose petals rained down and into the crib as if the rose had finally given in to it's mortality. An then miraculously before their eyes upon the top of the stem where the rose had once been, a bright red rose bud grew and thickened. It was a miracle and was determined to be a sign that the Gods who had once shown favor over Lucien's birth were still pleased.

This tradition was continued, generation after generation. Each first-born has been given the rose to hold and each time the rose has been brought back to life. None of those children have died before the birth of their first-born and some of our family say that is indeed a sign that the Gods show favor on our family.

That rose Ariana... bloomed for you... and some day it will do the same for your first child as well. Someday you will tell them our family's story and the legend of the the Lenoir rose.


_________________

[Ariana Lenoir]

---

Ariana had just stepped out of the bath. Her lithe frame bent over as she towel dried her long, dark hair. She gently rubbed the dark blue towel against her scalp, working it down to the ends of the strands. Tiny rivulets of water glided down her nude body and dripped on the bathroom floor. Thick clouds of steam rose from her skin and the hot bath, filling the room in a warm haze.

"Well aren't you just a living work of art?" an unfamiliar male voice said confidently from her bedroom.

Ariana startled visibly, almost yelping in surprise as she righted herself and looked in fear in the direction of the voice. In a quick scramble as if it was an afterthought in her shock, she quickly pulled the towel in front of her and backed up against the carved wooden screens. Ver few had access to her private chambers and among them only one man, Malekai. Malekai handled all her financial estate and business responsibilities and never intruded on her without permission. She had gone to great lengths and expense to ensure she was quite secure in her home; from hiring several guards to installing magical wards to prevent access. She called out hesitantly as if her mind hadn't quite given up hope it was him, "Malekai?" Is t'at ye?"

Time seemed to stand still as she clutched the towel closer to her chest, her blue eyes straining in the steam to make out a figure. From somewhere beyond her vision, the voice said with an odd tinge of amusement in his tone, "Not last I checked. Perhaps in a couple centuries. "

Dread filled Ariana, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to speak. A man taking advantage of her was the one thing she truly feared. She would rather die than lose her purity. She knew she had no chance in a physical confrontation and any man would be able to overpower her quite easily if they chose. It was this fear which had secretly led her to seek the company of vampires for in their company she felt assured by the lack of biological need that corrupted the minds of mortal men. It would be almost comical if it wasn't so tragic that she chose the company of vampires that might kill her on a mere whim, over the unfathomable chance of a mortal man taking her against her will. She took a quick breath, attempting to keep the fear from her voice. She failed as it quivered, "I donnae' know who ye are, but ye need t'leave immediately."

"I'm not ready to yet, " the voice said plainly, still unseen.

Ariana's knuckles turned white as she gripped the towel against her. She took a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could for her guards. Only a soft laugh of the man answered her cry for assistance. "They are quite unavailable at the moment. Should I take a message?"

Ariana screamed for them again and again. Each attempt betraying the growing desperation in her voice more than the last. Ariana rarely showed any genuine emotion and only numbly played the role of whatever manner best fit the social situation. That cold mask was completely gone as she began to as Sitka would described, "Freak out." She backed away, still calling for her guards as the first sobs began to give her pause.

"Goddamn. You really have a set of lungs on you, don't you, " he said, the amusement in his voice only adding to her frightened state as she noticed it seemed closer than before. She could not still not see the intruder. Her screams were now almost unrecognizable as her voice having broken by the desperate, smothering fear that pulsated to the core of her being.

"Get back! Ye stay back! " she screamed as she stumbled back to the firm wall and crouched. Her hands fumbled with haste in her discarded clothing as she searched for the dagger she normally kept strapped to her thigh. Her finger felt the cool metal as she quickly yanked it from the leather sheath and pointed it out in front of her. Her eyes intently scanning the entrance to the bath. Her hand trembled violently as her other hand to accompany the first, her elbows tucked inwardly to hold the towel as if still very keen on preserving her modesty despite the desperation of the situation. She yelled again for him to stay back as she began to hear confident footsteps slowly walk toward her.

Out of the haze, a figure appeared, a teenage boy. She screamed at him as he took one more step, his features coming more into focus. She searched his face for any familiarity or knowledge of who he was, but there was none. She was convinced she had never seem him before in her life.

"As I said, I'm not ready to leave yet, " he smirked as he looked down at her. "Put that damn thing down before you hurt yourself, child."

"Child? Ye are younger than me, " she shouted, "An' I'll kill ye if'n ye come any closer." She waved the dagger menacingly at him from her huddled position.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "You of anyone should know that appearances are often deceiving. " He began to walk deliberately towards her with over-dramatic steps, "Besides if you're gonna try and kill me, you really ought to pick something more deadly. That's just disappointing."

She slowly stood up as she fold her left arm across her chest to hold the towel and held out her right, the sharp tip of the dagger pointed at the boy's chest. Suddenly, she lunged forward, hilting the dagger deep into his chest. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Ariana looked down to the embedded dagger and then slowly up into his eyes. He grinned slowly and grabbed her and pulled her roughly against him. Forsaking her modesty in her desperation, she pushed at him with her left arm as she struggled to free herself. Her towel dropped to the ground as he snaked his other arm around her the gentle curve of her waist and harshly pulled her naked body back against him. The struggles stopped as their eyes locked on one another. The sensation was keenly unnatural as she felt her strong, determined will begin to falter as she slowly relaxed in his arms. He said quietly, unblinking as he released her right wrist, "Take the dagger out of my fracking chest and drop it to the ground." Still looking into his eyes as if unable to look away, she slowly reached over and pulled out the dagger and dropped it to the ground. Her movements were muted and sluggish as if she were almost in a dream-like state. "Good. Now you need to calm down, girl. We can handle this nicely or I can make it very unpleasant," he said still in that calm, confident voice.

Ariana shook her head slightly as if trying to rouse herself to look away from his eyes. His eyes narrowed at her stubborn attempt to overcome the domination. The resistance faded once again, as she once more relaxed in his arms. "Please donnae' ra.." she trailed off as if unable to even openly say the word that caused her so much fear.

He looked at her a moment and then burst out laughing as he held her securely against him. "Even your body can't raise the dead, child." Her mind worked over the words, confusion swimming in her blue eyes momentarily.

"Ye're dead? " she said slowly.

"... as a doornail, " he replied.

Suddenly the questions poured from her as her mind grasped the implication. "Who are ye then? What do ye want with me?"

"You could say, I'm your Great, Great..." he continued repeating the word dozens of times, "... Great Grandfather." He smirked slowly, "As for what I want... " He paused as he looked at her, his eyes narrowing dangerously, "You're in a dangerous position of ending my little game. No one ends my games, but me."

Ariana blinked, "Yer game?"

"Yes and that doesn't please me."

"I donnae' understand..." she said slowly.

He released her as he stepped back and looked at her. "You see every time one of you little brats are born, I can tell..." He reached up, tapping his temple with his index finger, "...up here. He made a noise that sounds like a "ping" as he grinned bigger.

She stood still, completely forgetting her vunerable nakedness, "... I donnae' underst..."

"My rose, " he said, watching her eyes intently for any recognition.

"Yer rose..." she said quietly as if using her own audible voice to trace the path of his intentions, "... the Lenoir rose?"

"Ding Ding Ding. We have a winner, " he grinned, "Yes, that rose."

"That rose was from Lucien's father nearly a thousand years ago... What does that 'ave t'do with ye..? she stopped short as the color drained from her face. She took a shuddering breath as her eyes widened.

"My rose..." he repeated, a hint of amusement on his face as he watched her grasp the concept.

"It's centuries old so the story goes. It cannae' be yers..."

"Actually, it is... " using his right hand to count off the fingertips on his left hand, "... nine centuries...give or take a decade."

Ariana's features paled even further and her body wobbled slightly as if she was on the verge of fainting. "Yer Lucian..."

"Pfft.. try one step up in your family tree." He smirked at her, "Faint and you won't wake up."

She swallowed, taking slow deep breaths, "What does this 'ave t'do with me?"

"You..." he stepped closer, the movements very much taking on the tinge of a predator, "... are threatening to make my game end. I won't permit it."

"Permit it?" she asked as she resisted the urge to take a step back from his approach.

"My game has continued unhindered all this time, until you. Usually your line is popping out the little snotheads by the time they're fifteen. You are almost a decade past that and I haven't had a ping yet." He stopped near her, his eyes dangerously watching hers with a genuine source of irritation lingering in them. "Where the frack is my ping?"

"Ye are upset because I haven't... 'ad a child...?" she asked, her voice teetering on disbelief.

"Have a three-headed monkey or some half-unicorn for all I fracking care. I want my goddamn ping."

Anger rose in Ariana as she grasped the concept, "An' what the hell do ye expect me t'do? Produce one out o' thin air for yer amusement like a magician?"

"Well, you aren't really trying hard, are you? Not like any of those vampires you have surrounded yourself with are going to be able to make it happen..." he smirked dangerously.

"A child doesn't simply 'appen..." Ariana smirked back at him, bolstering against the dangerous look in his eyes.

"It can..." he said as his smirk slowly slithered into a cold grin.

Ariana arched an eyebrow at the comment, studying his eyes. "An' what is t'at supposed t'mean?"

"It means..." he stepped in really close, looking fully into her eyes, ".. that I can make it happen if you don't, unpleasantly so if I have to."

Ariana paled, "Yer insane..."

"Delightfully so. If you don't find some way to give me my ping, I'll make it happen and trust me... you will not enjoy it. You really have two choices. Find someone of your own choosing, or I'll play God."

"Yer nay a God.."

"To you... " he reached out and tilted her chin with a curled finger, "I am." He grinned, "Consider yourself lucky I am even giving you a choice in the matter. The more time you waste, the more appealing the alternative sounds. I could have all sorts of fun with it. Maybe someone severely maimed, maybe some half-breed, maybe an orc. I could arrange many involuntary pairings to see which would work. I don't think a troll or an ogre can breed with a human, but I'm willing to give it a shot."

"Yer sick..." she stammered as she wrenched her chin from him and glared at him.

"Whatever it takes to get what I want."

"Ye cannae jus' play God with me. I have free will an' will do as I choose. If I choose t'marry an' 'ave a child I will, but my life is my own."

"Your wrong there, poppet. Free will is an illusion. There will always be puppetmasters and when we want you to dance... You will dance... and..." He looked at her face with cold amusement, "... don't even think about having those vampires save you with an embrace before I get that ping. If I have to spend centuries throwing one thing or another against your thighs to see it happen I will and death will not save you."

He stepped back from her as silence gripped her as she stood speechless. He made a slight, almost mocking bow to her, "Thank you for the lovely talk. Now if you'll excuse me I have to start looking for perspective fathers. The clock is ticking... " He stood there for a moment as he seemed to fade from view even before he turned around and began to walk away. His voice lingered in the still of the room as a chill crept across Ariana's naked skin, "Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock..."
_________________