Moonlight and Firelight/Tag Alek

It was long past midnight and the palace was on high alert. Guards were stationed everywhere, there was a whisper that hunting dogs may be sent out and gradually more and more staff were made aware of the situation. The Princess Charlotte had been reported missing and everyone was secretly in a frenzy. Of course, the public had not been made aware of the situation, in fear that it might cause a panic.

Everyone was ordered to remain calm and alert and yet, Alek could smell the fear as soon as he arrived home.

Initially, he was not bothered by the commotion. Had the stallions gone missing again? Alek has told them a great many times to check the perimeter of their paddock, it was the stable master's own fault at this point. Were the guards nervous that he'd caught them shirking their duties? Truly, it held no meaning to Ask, as he was tired and stiff from handling Saoirse all throughout the day; the child still remained adamant that she would only sleep in his arms, unfortunately.

However, he heard the name of the princess from a young guard and stopped her, asking what all the fuss was about. When he figured that Charlotte was nowhere to be found, he felt the tired fury seeping into his veins as he watched the incompetence of the royal staff before his eyes.

But, he imagined the princess, riding out and leaving for no one to see her. It was only later that she had switched to the streets to streets to mindle about the citizens of Atelus. When she was younger, it was more common to think that she might have some secret place in the woods. Often together with the Queen the guard had watched over as the pair fled to their shared, secret place right in the woods during a certain phase of the moon. It was possible that she might have headed there.

It wasn't a place he knew well though. But perhaps he might find it...?

All the better if this situation was dealt with swiftly, and by his hand. It would not do if something were to happen to the young princess during her midnight rendezvous.

He rode out in the night atop King's Ransom, his stallion, and led themselves to the woods of Cerate. While the trees covered the grounds thickly, the moon was generous as it lit the forest up rather eerily. His leather clad hands gripped the reins tighter as he breathed in the strengthening scent of Charlotte. The sweet, savory aroma wafted through the cool crisp early morning air. Dark eyes narrowed to thin slits, a burning need to find it. The very smell seemed to have paste itself on the inside of his mouth, lathering over his tongue and caking the back of his mouth. He wanted to find it. No, every molecule in his body needed to find it...

Alek forced himself to remain focused on the task at hand, even if the contents of his thoughts... still had him wanting to shivering at the siren song of this saccharine-scent drifting into his nostrils. The trail led him deeper into the woods, until he was faced with an open space in the forest where there was an old, abandoned well and the moonlight shone down upon it. Alek unmounted swiftly, squinting to see if his predictions about Charlotte's whereabouts were correct.

"It's ahnly me, Your Highness. Are you alright dere?"

He sharped faced the direction of where the feminine voice came from and there, he felt a great deal of stress wash away in a single instance. She was unharmed from the dangers of the forest. Alek had a sharp mind and knowledge of strategy thanks to his combat training and a single blessing of his new found ailment: he knew how to hunt. Problem was, every time he followed it to the source he struggled. It was the fresh blood and the easy access. The only thing keeping him coherent was he'd learned ways to temper the prey drive. As long as he stayed fed and happy, he was no danger at all.

Rustic, sharp canines scraped thoughtfully across the soft, tender flesh of his lower lip.

Deftly, he led King's Ransom to a patch of grass where he might rest. His sword hung on the reins but as Alek moved he felt the sheath of the dagger strapped to his calf wiggle loosely. he was armed — but it was far less than what he'd carry to battle.

He released Ransom and let the horse be. Turning to face the princess, Alek made his way to her, aware of that familiar gleam in her eyes that only she could carry so well. "You're de princess Charlotte," he pointed out sharply. "You're mahre impahrtant dan nearly any sengle persahn wethin de palace. A secret search part 'as been sent in yooehr name, ded you know dat? De poor guards'll be whepped oehnless dey lahcate you." Alek was always sensitive to those people who were hurt under his command. He made a mental note to request their punishment be lessened with the authority he possessed. He made the mistake of inhaling deeply, readying another volley of stern words for the runaway royal...

But he froze instead, nose twitching.

Then promptly sneezed.

Alek's expression verged on comically by how such a simple action startled him to silence. His brain stutters for a moment, every part of him on pause while his thoughts catch up. Huh. There was a first. Vampires could sneeze. It seemed that he learned something new about them every day. After a wash of cold, he stepped from the shadows, mindful not to breathe in as deeply with the thick and cloying scent of flowers all around.

Alek allowed himself to smile, an indication of his relief to see her. However, he wasn't worried for her anymore of her safety. He was more concerned about her well-being, and why on earth would she bring herself to this place of isolation? Was it because the visiting dignitaries? Or...? "Pray tell... why cooehldn't dese flowers wait oehntil dawn?" he sighed, mild admonishment in tone as he looked over the girl. The faint taste of salt on his tongue made him wonder if he'd interrupted something- for a second he'd sworn he smelled tears.

Charlotte seemed in one piece, though. No blood in the air, he'd definitely of smelt that. So perhaps all was well.

Charlotte Durham

He stepped forward as Charlotte attempted to explain herself, a single brow raised as the words ended up trapped in the back of her throat, but didn't comment further. Her voice was soft and airy, elevated by the quiet of the woods. It is never silent in the Cerate Forest, though more hushed than any city street for sure. In all the years he had known Charlotte and her family, through their long relationship, rarely did he ever detect a quivering in her tone. While she may never believe as such, her words were poetic and thoughtful. She could spend hours talking about a single subject, finding little more than positives regarding it and not hindering on the negative. She drew upon her own experiences from time to time, or spoke aloud what was on her mind. Something was weighing on her.

"Aye," Alek confirmed, when she asked on the search party.

In silence he agreed with her unsaid words. The guards would get little more than a slap on the wrist if he had his way, although truthfully he'd not admit as much originally to try and get his point across. Guilt creeps in to haunt him as he takes in his next breath. Charlotte looked like a child under the moonlight and he felt the sweet pitiful sense of nostalgia creep up to him while she stood there. It seemed like yesterday that they were here together in the another area, where he first presented her with a wooden sword they could both use in mock battle. However, as cruel as it was, time flowed rapidly, leaving Alek to look back on the things that forced them to grow up.

The matter of these flowers seemed so terribly important to the princess, so when Charlotte fell to her knees, naturally, Alek followed. Crouching down low, he carefully helped her regather all she'd dropped. His jaw clenched as her words again trapped in the back of her throat. She was always a young woman so put together, emanating with vibrant youth. Now, she appeared so much younger... as if pain and fear trembled the years right off her bones. Her eyes were alive with sorrows and he rages silently over for the lack of shine in her eyes and the missing smile on her mouth.

His face bore nothing if not a brimming sympathy coming to the surface. He'd gotten to oversee her family close and he was given the opportunity to watch her grow and become a courageous young woman. Inwardly he knew the validity of her words. It was true that Charlotte wouldn't of been permit to leave this night, and he'd of had half a mind to stop her personally. Some of the burden fell on him; Alek knew he was bordering on obsessive in his efforts to safeguard the royal family. It was only...
There had been someone that he loved with all his heart, someone who relied on him and he'd failed her.

Alek didn't think he could survive to lose another loved one. Not this soon. Not this princess.

When her composure cracked, at last, Alek was quick to take the blossoms from her arms, set them aside in the grass. He did not hesitate, not for a moment, wrapping his arms around one of the very few people he still trusted. "I'm sahrry, Char, I dedn't mean to chew you ooeht. I've joehst been wahrried," he said sternly but gently, as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

He had watched her grow, just as he watched now his own daughter grow, and many others of the palace. The little girl who delighted in climbing trees and riding horses, but traded her reins for gloves and corsets. It could only be prayed that the Goddess looked favorably on the Durham's to allow them victory always and to not know the pain of defeat, for defeat for queens and princesses were death. Not everyone lived, of course, the late Queen Rosealyn was destined to go, but the love felt would not be lost, it would always linger. With that thought he lightly pressed his lips to her forehead. “Tragedies comb and go, and so do mahments o' peace, o' 'appiness, o' lahve, lives are naht joehst one set din, boeht de ebbin and flows o' events bot good and bad,” as he spoke he gave Charlotte a squeeze.

He felt an ache tug his heart. There was no question to what caused the distress and heartache in her. There was only one who could of comforted Charlotte... but she was no longer among the living. And she would not want the him to lament over lost chances and regrets when he had a princess to care for. The guilt hit his stomach, and he swallowed. Charlotte's sorrow made him ache, and he would have done anything, pleaded to anyone who might listen, to remove it from her. "I know 'ow 'ard it's been fahr you." His wistful eyes met hers. "I see 'er in you- 'er insight, 'er wesdahm, 'er beauty... every day, mahre and mahre."

Alek pulled back and reached to wipe the tears the rolled off the princess' face. "Dahn't dink dat you can't ask me anythin, either. I prahmise if you need me, I'll be dere. Always," he vowed, adamant, that if any of his words set it it would be these.

Charlotte Durham

The world seemed far away. The reality that they had social obligations to return to was tucked in between the folds of time. While Alek would have loved to remain in the company of the serene woods, sheltered from restriction, they had to leave. But Alek was willing to indulge himself. At least for now, they were away from judging eyes. He would relish in the moment until it was blown away like a fragile flower. He sat with her, allowing her to prop herself against him. She smelled like the wild grass and freshly mowed soil— an obvious testament to the long hours she spent in the forest.

This close, he could not tell the tears he knew filled her eyes, threatening to spill, but the scent was more than evident, wetness gathering across his shirt. A unfamiliar feeling of misery came over him, a pit in his stomach that seemed to feel heavy and grow with each passing second he watched her. Her words were confused, broken and distraught, all signs of an emotional break that was the cause of her desperate plea. A usual stoic, even expression changed to that of confusion, brows knitting together as she scrambled to find the words to describe just what had shaken her so. Why couldn't he protect her from this? Where was the fairness in the world, that this was necessity of life? He loved her too much, just like he loved any other member of his family, both those by blood or those he'd chosen. To lose her amidst the trials she went through would create a hollowness in him.

"Charlotte," he murmurs again, the words nearly collapsing in on themselves. Let me take this burden of her. Make her suffering stop just for now, here, please. Hadn't this child suffered enough? But who would listen to his pleas? Who had the power? There was no one; the gods left prayers unanswered, made their creations figure it out on their own with the subsequent gift and curse that was free will.

There were just the two of them, the two of them and an unavoidable pain.

The princess shook in his arms, he could feel it, his hands were warm, that meant hers were cold. They were never cold, they were now. His eyes met hers, sad and desolate. There were few words he could offer to better this, no way to shelter her from this suffering (no matter how much he wished so), there was nothing he could do to make her light up like she deserved. It simply was what it was.

There's a wry twist to his lips, small and fleeting. "Selly and flighty," he echoed in a murmur. Alek couldn't help but snort, to hear those words directed at her sounded like complete bollocks. His blue eyes flickered over to stare into Charlotte's face, his heart filled with such blind adoration. His chest tight with grief. "Dat's all de credit you give yooehrself? Selly girl, indeed," he chuckled, reaching up to wipe the flowing tears from her cheeks, even if it's futile and more will soon fall to take their place.

Fingers nudged the blonde tresses across the curve of her cheek to tuck hair behind her hairs. His expression verges on amused as he plucks a stray blade of grass from her hair and casts it aside. Her hair fanned out over her back like golden silk in the moonlight, marred only by a tangle here and there from the ride. Sighing, Alek reaches over to gather up the tangled mess of hair making quick work of arranging it into a loose braid. If he let his hands linger for just a moment among the golden hair as fine as silken ribbons—well, no one was going to comment.

He hummed, thoughtful as she comment on his own losses. Free one of his hands, ever so gently, he settled it across her cheek, using his thumb to wipe away her tears. "We each 'ave ooehr own weights to shooehlder, Char. Joehst because yooehrs is defferent dan me own doesn't mean it's any less 'eavy." His smile was sad, barely curving his lips at all. Sorrow was gathering in his eyes too, not spilling over but there all the same. When had he cried last? He could not remember.

"Ah, and do naht do yooehrself a descredit; you've been mahre 'elp to me dan you'll ever know. It's mahre dan a jahb now, de reasahn I stay 'ere is because I care abooeht you, and yooehr brahther and sester." He chuckled, weakly, the fondness of the memories drawing it out of him all the same as his hand fell away from her cheek, a dead weight at his side. He had always strived to be a honest man, and would never deny his charges the truth. Nothing would lessen his devotion. A devotion to the row that would never waver. He would never allow, not a single day, not an eternity without her. In his mind's eye a younger Sophia is lounged across the grass fields, murmuring a few lyrics here and there. Tiny bits of stray flowers caught in her golden curls as she continued to hum, bare feet shifting in the still dew damp grasses.

And Alek could not explain how much his heart bled for the thought of a future without his Queen.

How it still ached every morning to wake alone and remember how warm arms would once lace around his waist. How the very mention of his wife's name was like a shard of glass to his chest and how he tried so very damn hard not to think about her.

His eyes closed, his memories wrapping around that first image of her as Sophia had turned to face him. The daylight world had come to an end for him, perhaps it had. But even if he had to live a thousand lifetimes in that darkness, a thousand lifetimes in darkness and shadow, mind bent on nothing more but preserving some sliver of what he was, on being there for the ones who needed him, the memories he shared would last an eternity.

He managed to straight up a little, not much, just enough as his lips curved into a small smile. To smile again, fancy that. How Charlotte had this effect on people, even in times of sorrow... it was remarkable. She was remarkable. "'ah, like 'ell you wahn't!" he managed again, his voice sounding like himself as he shot her a playful smirk. "Moehch as it'd make me jahb easier- I oehnderstand you need to sneak ahff. It's 'ealthy dat you do, even." The words out he tipped his head to the side, allowing for an laugh. He couldn't help but laugh at her denial and immediate apology, the bright sound which left his lips, eyes mirthful once more. Charlotte's gaze becomes downcast, the light leaving her somewhat, though it's still an improvement. It may not take a couple months, or even a couple of years, but one day she'll learn how to manage this pain. Look back on the days in the sun with her mother with only happy reminiscences.

He picks up on the softer remark about growing up and nods. "You and me bot." A sigh, or maybe half a laugh, it was difficult to tell by now.

The sentiment of something that he is in firm agreement with. He knew that the royal family would need him less, more and more with time, they would look upon him, they would come into their own and not need the same surveillance and would come to rely more on close friends and lovers, of similar birth That, that did not matter to Alek.

Attention and praise from the Durham's was not... necessary with his job.

It should never held a place in his heart as much as it did.

Charlotte Durham

Charlotte didn't want his pity and he knew it was the most ideal thing to feel when he had been thrust in the same situation. The girl just wanted... to be a girl. That's all, just a moment where the world expected her to bare all of life's many woes and pains with a ever-present smile and poise. He looked over Charlotte, to really see who she was. Her body consisted of unnecessary despair and isolation. What had driven her to think she had to suffer in silence? When was the last time they even did this? Why had he just realized that she was already a woman now and there was no permanently getting back the little girl he had so loved from the past. She was different, but so was he.

As customary, Alek sat and listened, patient as he let her work through her grief. A pale hand was still resting against her back, perhaps a bit too close or intimate than one would like, but it had seemed to calm her.

He did not judge her on her turmoil, did not judge that she was so swept away in the tidal wave of her grief. It was a startling discovery to see she had kept it buried so tightly within herself so long. "If ahnly you asked mahre! It's de naht askin part abooeht yooehr city escapades dat give me grey 'airs." It was an attempt at lightheartedness in his tone, lips pulled back into a teasing smirk.

Though he had longed for this same ease to return with him and Sophia so deep that he scared himself with the thought of the desire being unearthed it felt a seemingly impenetrable wall had formed between them. Charlotte was different though, she was the first princess he had come into contact with that made it all to easy to forget his place. Concern filled his eyes as she indicated that she wanted this kept a secret. "Yooehr sester wooehldn't dink less o' you," he started to say, wanting to get that point across. The act of crying was one he knew far too well, yet he sat here, wishing to end the tears, to see her happier and glad to know that he somehow managed it by his mere presence. Wishing to see her and Sophia both come out of this pain stronger, together, instead of trying to shelter one another from their own woe as he knew them to do.

Then it happened. Prepared would be an overstatement he was thrown off with the full force at the face she directed his way.

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and his breath caught in his throat. Lower lip wobbled ever so lightly, cheeks flushed like dawn's painted fingers, silver tear trails shining under moonlight. Charlotte looked a cherub fallen from the heavens, the vulnerable expression she wore tore away any of his resistance and he knew in that instance if she had asked him to ram a stake into his chest he would of done so gladly. Without a second thought, more so without a first, his hand lifted to entwine his pinky with hers. "I swear ahn... de lives o' me dahgs," he promised, earnestly. No man, be they hero or villain, could of denied Charlotte when she wore that expression; it never ceased to zip past his defenses and dig straight into his heart.

Truth to be told had struggled for a moment- his own life had been forfeit now that he'd become a vampire, hadn't it? Swearing on Saoirse's life was something he couldn't do, ever. But his dogs... he could swear on them and it'd have the same impact as if he'd sworn on his own life; Finneas and Fayette were two more stars in his bleak and dismal world and had helped him through countless personal struggles, although Nes was just as much a troublemaker and pain in his arse  as her exasperating namesake he loved her all the same. Charlotte would know of his affection for the dogs this wasn't a vow he made lightly.

Granted, he would be there for Charlotte and Sophia all the same. It wasn't his place to disclose his charges secrets.

Alek's gaze left her, a thoughtful look as he eyed the forgotten flowers. "Do you dink we'll need mahre?" he inquired, already rolling up his sleeves. If it were her mission to pick flowers, then he would pick flowers with her.

A rare smile tugged at his lips as he echoed with her, "Moehst leave sahme fahr de faeries!" Alek knew the late Queen Roslyn well, he knew her better than some of the guard, during his time within her service he'd come to see her as a friend. It was often within her gardens that he'd oversee her, lend a hand here and there with the flowers she grew. He couldn't help but smile warmly at the memory of her. Even if his thoughts were trouble and happiness was something he found a little harder to show on good days, Charlotte was gifted at improving his mood. "Mend you I dink de fey get enooehgh as is... boeht dahse are wahrds o' wesdahm to live by," he agreed, a slight strain to his smile. Those words were practically the mantra he repeat internally every time he felt hunger gnawing away at the pit of his stomach. The urge to feed overwhelmed his senses when fresh blood filled the air, it was sung to him and still he struggled at restraint. A handful of those beneath his command had certainly offered but... it felt wrong.

He leaned closer towards Charlotte unconsciously. The quiet of the forest unsettled him; he couldn't let himself be lulled into a false state of security.

Deeply Alek inhaled, nostrils flaring as he scent the air, scenting past the strong aroma of the flowers. His jaw ached, sharp pin pricks of pain as sharp canines slid past gums. He felt exhilarated the moment the fresh air filled his lungs, and with it that sickly sweet fragrance that wafted off every living thing. Blood. A dozen leagues away a squirrel was resting within its niche, along with three of her young. Further, even, a predator of some sort stalked a hare that made the mistake of leaving its nest. There was no sign of any fey in the area.

Still his body yearned for just a taste of it, siren song though it were he had fed to recently for it to overtake him.

Helping Charlotte rise gracefully to her feet, he lingered on the ground as he gathered up the blossoms, bundling them within a strip of linen he kept on his person (unfortunately he was reduced to a terribly messy eater and blood strains were agony to wash out). Alek glanced over at the princess' muttering. It took a second for his vision to adjust to the darkness and glittering blue orbs melded into the crispness of the moon hanging high above. "Shit," he cursed under a breath, forehead creasing.

Oh Goddess, the sun would be up eventually.

Would it kill him?

Mostly he'd kept to the palace halls while he adjusted to this transformation- safe under the observation of trained soldiers, where he couldn't pose a risk to others with his blood lust. But there had been a couple mornings that the heavy curtains in his chambers had been left open... Alek shuddered in memory. "I fahrgot to bring a cloak," he admit, and for once he was relieved he didn't really blush same as he used to. The increasing paleness would of only made his embarrassment all the more obvious. "Moehch as I wance enjahyed de gahd's light, it'd be best dat we avoid it." Or I'll get a little more than a sun tan, he added silently.

Offering a calm touch, Alek did his best to place his cold hand over her own on his arm. It did not cause him worry; the princess had a good head on her shoulders and a heart three times as big the size it was meant to be. Together her and Sophia could overcome this tragedy and come out all the more stronger in the face of it. "Speak fahr yooehrself, lass. Sophia even cries prettily," Alek could not help but comment on it, with a genuine chuckle and a glint of affection mirrored in his eyes. Her beauty always made him awed, every single time he saw her. He could always feel it when she entered a room, always smile appeared on his lips as he closed his eyes and inhaled the air around him, the pleasant, soothing scent that she brought him. He seemed to regret his comment a second later, eyes widen and tips of his canines peeking from his part lips.

His flustered expression quickly schooled over. "Decide now whether you'll ride wit me, ahr take me saddle," he said absently, immediately turning the tide of conversation away as he headed back towards the horses with Charlotte. Luckily he'd had the foresight to at least bring a lead so they could tie the horses together during their return if need be. Alek could still ride Ransom despite how uncomfortable it were for a man to ride bareback. Growing up a horse breeder's son he had learned how to protect... certain sensitive things. Unfortunately, King's Ransom wouldn't allow any other rider on his back, arsehole that the stallion were so it left little option. "Next time you escape, bring a saddle wooehld you? Dat way we can race 'ahme." he suggested with a wink, well aware that there would be a next time.

That comment amused Alek, he cracked a smile, but the little huff of laughter did leave him as he glanced at Charlotte. He patted Ransom's neck comfortingly, an apology for the earlier flight to reach the wayward princess. Ransom's neck was lathered in sweat, curling the short, stiff hairs of his glossy summer coat. He'd need to give the horse a chance to cool down when they got back. "Meanwhile you, me dear, look as if you gaht into a fight wit a breck wall and lahst wit 'ow poehffy yooehr eyes are," he shot back, a smirk tugging at his lips as he brought his arm back to lightly elbow the youth. "If she's a deranged beast, you're mahre likened to a splahtched koi fesh." He grinned devilishly as he added, "It's alright, lass. You make a cute koi, at least!"

Bending down, he undid the ties to Ransom's saddle and threw the roughened leather over his shoulder. He took the spare lead he'd brought in afterthought, deciding it'd be safer if she had a better hold of that one. The stallion didn't look terribly pleased by this development, and Alek scoffed as the horse brayed at him. "I dahn't need attitude frahm you, you ass," he huffed, glaring over his shoulder at the less than noble stead. "You'll get sugar later, yeah? So stahp yooehr betchin and moanin." Ransom merely stared at him, contempt plain as day. Or so Alek believed he spied it there- honest, he talked with the horse enough that Ransom was more a companion. He knew the horse could understand him, in the same way he could understand that Ransom would make the ride back hell for him. Saoirse would doubtlessly be an only child at this rate. A mercy then, he mused dryly, that I haven't much use of my bollucks these days anyway. If he were a vindictive man, he'd have this bastard gelded for all the shit he put him through over the years.

"I realize," he acknowledged her words, spark of mischief as he peered around the carriage horse to eye her. "Boeht far be it frahm me to deny a lady de use o' a saddle." Alek considered it a mercy that he hadn't found Charlotte injured somewhere on the path after being thrown off. The youth may be a good rider, but this particular carriage horse - Amarylais - spooked easy, at night especially.

It was something of a relief to not have to ride against her, though. The close proximity of her would stir up certain urges... and Alek would much prefer it the typical arousal at the touch of a woman or male on his person, rather than the darker lust for consumption of their life blood. He hummed as he set the saddle on Amarylais and strapped it tight. "Mend yooehr tahngue, lass," he chuckled, wiggling a finger at her disapprovingly. "Ransahm's gaht ears, y'know. 'e's de sahrt to 'ahld groehdges." The temperamental git would be the death of him. Oh, but how he loved the horse.

After checking the mare over and finding her in riding condition, only then did he return to Charlotte's side with Amarylais' lead in hand. "She startles, dis one... so prahper race later, and you be carefoehl, yeah?" He couldn't help but add, worried crease between his brow as he helped Charlotte mount.