Post by Katherine de Novek Dumont on Jul 18, 2009 7:42:09 GMT -8
The Beginning
Grace and LeZander
Grace and LeZander
She never really loved him. He was so much older, though his thick, animalistic blood made him seem young, and he could obviously kill her with a flick of the wrist. So what could she do? As Grace lay under the smoldering timbers, the towering male tugged her from the rubble of her family's destroyed cottage. His mouth was bloody with bits of flesh caught between his pointed teeth, and that beastly glare so apparent in his eyes. He'd hoisted her up with gore covered hands, letting a vicious snarl out in her face.. but then he stopped. What.. was it about the girl that cowered in his grasp? He'd killed many in her place before and feasted on them without so much as a pang of guilt. But the way she stared up at him with those large blue eyes, and even though her quivering expression was full of fear, it was absolutely angelic. He had to have her, he had to keep her, this much was apparent. Zander tugged the teenager out from the destruction, swiftly boxing her in the temple before she could understand what was going on. He hoisted Grace's limp body over his shoulder, and made his way back home.
LeZander would do simply anything to keep Grace happy. He lavished her in gifts fit for royalty, and brought her nearly everything her heart could possibly desire, but she could never smile. On their wedding night, Grace had to hide her tears. She knew now, that there was no escape. She had nowhere to run, her parents were slain, her house burned down, village destoryed. Even if there were other survivors, they'd all think she was dead aswell, and if she even managed to escape, LeZander would stop at nothing to hunt her back down, and she knew it. So, unwillingly, regrettably, she gave in to him. Nine months later, Akseli was born.
Zander was estatic at the thought of having a son. A boy he could train to fight, and produce a powerful lineage he could be proud of, that everyone would fear, but as the child grew, Zander became more and more disgusted with him. He called him pathetic, and though he tried, the boy never seemed to want to fight. He had a soft spot, much like his mother, and in Zanders eyes it made him weak. He called him a bitch, he beat him, but nothing soothed the anger. So he'd try again. Month after month, Grace went through her cycle, and month by month Zander grew angier and angrier that his wife couldn't give him another child. As he tore down villages in his quest for blood, and gore, he'd often stumble upon a child who hadn't died in the destruction. Much like how he took Grace, he'd take the children home, if they were boys, and try his luck with forcing them into the lifestyle he wanted Akseli to lead. He'd beat them, and torment them, after he pumped them full of thick, Lycan blood that Akseli already had running through his veins by lineage. One by one, each child failed him, none were ever good enough. Akseli lurked in the background, watching his mother care for Vlad, Sylice, and the other boy. Grace mothered all four, putting all of her love into them instead of holding a grudge against her husband. They all loved her, and they knew if their mother was in the room, Zander wouldn't whip them, or beat them, because he wouldn't want to upset her. Years went by, with Grace aging slowly though her husband only seemed to gain a year every five, along with her children.
The Boys
It was years later, when all of the children were nearly fully grown, that Grace announced she was pregnant. Nobody knew what was in store, but Zander, terrified that something would go wrong, sent his wife away to a small village, where she could give birth to the babe in peace. The woman was estatic, her small cottage much like the one she lived in as a child. She missed her own children, and worried, but with their father high off the thought of having a boy, she knew the boys would be safe. Zander sent Fenrir, an old friend, to look after Grace.. just in case something happened. He had many enemies, as he was aware, and the thought of losing Grace and a possible child was too much. They all knew his weakness.
Nine months living in her quiet little hut, with Fenrir poping in every day, Grace finally had the baby. But to her surprise, it wasn't one, but two. A baby boy, and a baby girl, whom she promptly named Crusnik and Katherine. She took her time, not quite wanting to send news to Zander that they had arrived.. she wanted more time in the cottage, but that soon turned into a dire mistake. One night, after she'd tucked the twins to bed in their cradle, along with a bear she'd knitted for each, their names embroidered in the soft wool, chaos broke out. The village was ravaged, her house set afire, and Fenrir was too late. He fought through, trying to reach his friend's wife and newborn babies, but the fire was too strong and the enemy too powerful. By the time he'd arrived, it was too late.
There was nothing but smoldering ashes where the house used to be, broken timbers and charred piles of wood laying all around the smokey village. Grace was dead, her body quickly unearthed by a horrified Fenrir.. how could he explain this to Zander. As the man sat in the rubble, rubbing his hands over his face, hoping to awaken from a dream.. he heard a noise. A baby, crying.. and quickly he delved into the wood, tearing the beams apart as claws protruded from his fingers. Maybe, it wasn't all bad.. maybe the twins survived, and, he happened upon a baby girl.
She was beautiful, with pale skin like her father, and her mother's large blue eyes. He held her in his arms, and rocked her into submission. Fen simply wouldn't reveal Crunik's existance. He'd say that Grace had died, but his child had lived, and that way, maybe, LeZander wouldn't go insane. Not if he had a daughter to care for, right?
