Libido - A Versailles Fan Fiction
Title: Libido
Author: creative_kiss , rosen_schwert
Characters: Kamijo, Hizaki, Teru, Masashi, Yuki, OC
Summary: Noelle, a young bride, is lured away from her wedding by an enchanting vampire with a plan to make her his eternal princess.
Content to have finished his task so swiftly, Hizaki proudly claimed the parcel off of the damp ground of the alleyway and opened it. The garment bag had protected it from the dirt and moss that sealed the cracks in the stone streets, as well as from the puddles left behind by rain the previous night. It was a glorious, white wedding gown decorated with lace and beading, the skirt gathered in lovely, billowing ruffles. Hizaki could imagine the woman who was to wear it, her delicate figure sealed properly in a corset. The bosom of the dress was a rather immodest cut, very low, but she would fill it nicely. Kamijo would be very pleased. Even still, Hizaki knew that the dress lacked something.
He put this thought from his mind as the latest arrival approached him, absently observing the damp alley and the two lifeless corpses heaped into a pile to the side. Their blonde hair was stained with dirt, and blood dripped down their necks from two small but distinct puncture wounds. This brother was to be called “Teru”, Kamijo had said.
Teru had only been mildly surprised to find his brother in a dress himself, a simple peasant’s garment, but a woman’s dress still. His long, blonde hair and the makeup he wore fit him quite nicely, and altogether he looked like a beautiful young woman. Before Kamijo had sent Teru out, he insisted that they both had a role to play. Teru had not had to change clothes for his role; he had been a poor, peasant-boy before he had been bitten, and his role was to be one now.
“A messenger?” Teru asked Hizaki, distant.
“And a tailor,” Hizaki replied. Teru at last looked up at Hizaki, and his eyes widened with recognition as though he had not noticed the wedding gown in his new brother’s arms.
He admired it shamelessly, then asked, “What will we do with it?” referring to the gown. Hizaki smiled wickedly, handing Teru the gown to carry. He then took his brother’s free hand, the right one, and intertwined their fingers, guiding him down the street.
“We shall stain it with the blood of the rose.”
Noelle was a simple, fragile thing, only seventeen years of age. She was pale, with twinkling green eyes, a slender figure and petite feet. She had no use for her mind, her feelings, or her mouth as a young lady. Her only duty was to look pretty. More so than anything, her glowing auburn hair, so deep and passionate as love itself, had captured the attention of quite a few young men, most especially in the last two years, but it had not prepared her for marriage to any of them. Noelle had no knowledge of what neither attraction nor love meant to her, and the man downstairs meant to be her husband had aroused neither feeling from her, though perhaps fondness. She sat in the window so terrified that she felt nauseous, staring down at the empty, cobblestone street below. Not even the sun was out to warm her spirits.
There was a knock at her bedroom door. Noelle quickly wrapped herself in a silk robe, pale blue in color, and hurried to answer it. She was expecting her tailor to arrive with the gown she was to wear to the ceremony that day. She wanted to be excited but...
Noelle was both relieved and disconcerted at the arrival of whom she assumed to be her tailor and an errand boy. The tailor was late, and this was not the man she had consulted with months prior. She hardly had time to question the blonde young woman standing before her in a pretty peasant’s dress, or the man with the boyish face and black hair that accompanied her. This boy carried the gown in his arms, and though he was delicate with it, Noelle frowned at Teru most especially.
“You... are my tailor?” Noelle asked Hizaki. Hizaki nodded solemnly. “I must confess I was expecting a man.” Neither Hizaki nor Teru said anything regarding this, though the corners of Teru’s mouth twitched in an attempt not to snicker, forcing him to turn his head away with a tiny cough until he recomposed himself. More awkward silence ensued.
“Very well then, let me see it,” Noelle mumbled, brushing some red hair from her face and ushering the two inside. Her breathing was labored; even her eyes revealed great anxiety. Teru paused uncertainly at first, then hurried forward and draped the garment over a couch, opening it up. He procured the heavy dress from inside with some difficulty and held it up for Noelle to see.
“You like it, Madame?” Teru asked in a hushed whisper. Hizaki silently glared at him. He was certain Kamijo had made his orders quite clear; both were to remain as hushed as possible. They were not to distract Noelle from the window with sentiments or small-talk. Teru was new; it was clear that this task was already getting to him. He will learn... Hizaki thought.
“It matters not,” Noelle confessed. Turning to Hizaki, she asked, “You’ll help me into it, yes?” Hizaki nodded. Noelle brought her hands up to remove her robe when she noticed Teru standing put and staring at her. There was no hunger in his eyes, no emotion whatsoever, and yet his failure to remove himself from the room disgusted Noelle.
“I-”
“Out! Out you filthy thing!” Teru was in no hurry, but he complied with reluctance. Closing the door behind him in the hall, he glanced up at Noelle’s guard, called Yuki. He was a stoic character as well, and appeared rather strong with a face of stone. Yuki did not spare even an inkling of interest, but continue to stare straight ahead. Teru simply slumped down onto the floor in front of the door, then started drumming his fingers on his knees absently. He did feel slightly dejected; Hizaki was allowed to stay behind and observe the lovely lady in her underclothes under the pretense of womanhood. It was another thing that puzzled him. Hizaki had no reason to be dressed that way. Noelle, no matter how guarded she was of her body, would have expected Hizaki to perform such a service anyway, to help her dress, and yet....
Noelle began to feel warm as Hizaki laced up her dress for her. The weight of the occasion, the responsibility she would now and forever have to this man was so heavy upon her shoulders. The room felt like it was spinning, and she continuously gasped for air.
Masashi was a kind man, certainly, and very gentle, but Noelle was not positive she was ready to be a wife to anyone. Besides, they had hardly courted; her parents had rushed them to the alter to secure her future. Noelle had wanted to wait, but according to her parents, it was not an option. She felt guilty, marrying a man she did not love, but what could she do?
While Noelle tried in vain to fan herself with her hands, Hizaki inconspicuously watched the window for Kamijo. He had yet to make an appearance. No longer amused with Noelle’s fit, he hurried to find a paper fan to hand her, and once Hizaki finished lacing the dress, Noelle dashed to the window and threw it open, drawing in large gulps of the damp air from outside. Hizaki kindly approached her and showed her some combs he had chosen from her collection that he thought would look nice in her hair. Noelle smiled weakly and pointed to one she liked, a silver one decorated with blue pearls and diamonds. Hizaki imagined the contrast would look beautiful in her red hair, and silently instructed her to turn her head so that he could pin her hair for her. Noelle was facing the open window again, relieved at the fresh air but still not cured of her nausea or warmth, and that’s when she saw him.
A man of mysterious countenance, slim in figure, with silver eyes, long, blonde curls, and pale skin stood out in the street below. He was looking up at her window, at her, and Noelle froze. She did not move even after Hizaki had finished pinning her hair. Somewhere in the man’s face was a smile, though his lips were sealed and his face still. Noelle gasped, this time because she had never seen such a beautiful man before. He held her gaze calmly and without word, clutching a vibrant red rose to his chest. As Noelle’s heart began to flutter, she realized that this feeling that she had never felt before, this was attraction. No man had ever inspired such a feeling of her yet, and that very realization sent her dashing to the door wrapping a cloak over her shoulders. Hizaki did nothing to intervene, only watched.
As Noelle opened the door, she was startled to find Teru sitting right in the doorway. Still, she did not let this hinder her, and she leapt over him, the skirt of her dress billowing out above him. Teru was rather smothered by it at first, but once Noelle had disappeared down the hall he could not help but smile mischievously at Yuki, who rolled his eyes. Hizaki smiled down at Teru and helped him to his feet.
“It is done then?” Teru asked.
“Yes, Teru,” Hizaki replied, taking Teru’s hand in his again. Yuki later frowned, recognizing that a man’s voice had left the blonde female’s lips.
Masashi had long since been dressed, but nitpicked at every piece of lint and common rumple in his clothes. Much like Noelle, the stress of marriage was greatly weighing upon him, only for different reasons. Even now, it appeared his bride did not much care for him. It was disappointing, as Masashi was quite taken with Noelle, the beautiful, dainty little thing that she was. He could only hope that with time, she could come to love him. In a sense, she reminded him of a caged lark; unable to fly, unable to sing, and to him that was part of Noelle’s charm. The sentiment had aroused a longing within Masashi to be her savior, if only she would allow it.
Sighing, Masashi decided to open up the curtains to let some light in. Noelle’s family’s estate was luxurious in many respects, but also dark and dreary. Many of the rooms were entirely closed up and particularly musty, as if they were hiding something. What most did not know was that the Lorraine family wanted their daughter as pale and inaccessible as possible before this moment. They only revealed Noelle at special parties, or else passerby were forced to admire her from the one open window in the estate, that which opened to Noelle’s bedroom.
As Masashi turned from the window, a glint of red caught his eye. He turned back in time to see his lovely bride dashing into an alleyway in pursuit of a strange man. At first, he declined to accept that it was her. He was surprised that Noelle could even have made it out of the front door in her wedding dress past her foolish and overprotective parents. The scene before him stung, but he refused to insult her honor by jumping to conclusions. He resolved to follow Noelle and confront her himself. Grabbing his jacket, he headed off after her.
After losing herself in a maze of damp alleyways, Noelle at last gave up hope. The suspicious, blonde-haired prince had vanished entirely. It was as if she had dreamt up the whole thing in a state of deliria. But no, that couldn’t be right. She had seen him with her own two eyes, not just from the window, but as she had chased after him for minutes upon minutes. Noelle sighed. She had no business chasing after a mysterious man in the first place. How scandalously she had behaved. And look at where she had run to. The alley she now stood in was damp and possessed a stench unlike anything to be described; she had never in her life wandered through such a foul place.
“I’m a fool,” Noelle whispered to herself, turning to leave. She couldn’t hide her disappointment. Her heart was still pounding at the glorious feeling the man had awakened within her. Lust. How unfortunate that it had come at a time like this.
As she turned around she discovered the blonde man standing behind her. It was as if he had been there all along. But how? Noelle had sensed no presence, heard no footsteps. She faced him regardless, and slowly drank in every inch of him, from the hair on his head to the shoes on his feet. His clothing, most especially a sparkling, white and gold coat, was rather gaudy, even for an aristocrat, and Noelle assumed he must have been a foreign prince. That prince allowed a few silent moments to pass, and then he held out the rose to her.
“What a lovely princess,” the man remarked, his deep voice resonating in her ears. Noelle gulped, extending her arm to accept the rose with hesitation. “Don’t be afraid, dear.” Noelle still could not bring herself to take it from him. Impatient, the man took Noelle’s hand himself, kissed it lightly, and placed the rose in her hand. He then extended his arm for her expectantly. Noelle absently slid her arm through his while staring at the vibrant color in the rose; she had never seen one so red before. It appeared otherworldly to her.
“You called me a princess just now, but I am no such thing,” Noelle told the man after they had walked a short distance deeper in the darkened labyrinth of alleyways. “Not in the least. My parents were fortunate to keep their small business and their shares thriving, but most of our fortune comes from my grandparents’ estates.” The man did not say anything. In fact, he hardly appeared interested.
“Were you waiting for me?” Noelle asked suddenly, pulling herself from her trance. The man smiled.
“What is your name, princess?”
Frowning, she replied, “Noelle.” The man appeared deep in thought. “And yours?”
“Kamijo.” Noelle’s frown intensified. Kamijo noticed this out of the corner of his eye. “This agitated countenance does not suit you at all, my dear. Come now; wipe that hideous scowl off your beautiful face.” Noelle, startled, cupped her hand over her mouth.
“Please, sir, you did not answer my question,” she insisted in a muffled voice. Her flushed cheeks were now quite plum-colored.
“At the window?” Kamijo mused. “No, I was not waiting for you. I was passing through, and happened to see you. Such gorgeous red hair is hard to miss.”
“And so you always carry roses with you?”
Kamijo chuckled, yet his eyes appeared to remain stolid. “One must be prepared, must he not?”
“Prepared for what?”
“For the company of even lovelier flowers,” Kamijo replied, slowing to a halt. He took his arm from hers and faced her. Noelle was again stunned silent, and could only point to herself with a puzzled look on her face. “Yes, you.”
“I would have followed you out here anyway, rose or-” Noelle suddenly stopped herself. “Forgive me.” How could she say such a thing?!
“Is that so?” Kamijo’s smirk was purely wicked, and yet despite knowing how shameful it was, Noelle was entirely drawn to him. This man fascinated her. As she stared into his pools of melted silver, so unnatural in hue, her naivety consumed her, and her inhibitions slowly melted away with the intense heat of his stare.
“I-” Kamijo held a finger to her lips. He suddenly appeared distracted by something. Noelle clutched her rose to her heart and tried to be patient, but it was difficult. She was so eager for... something, and at the same time she was upset to receive only divided attention from Kamijo.
“Kamijo, I-” Kamijo’s gaze swiftly met Noelle’s, her eyes widening with both delight and apprehension. He leaned in close to her, pushing some of her red hair out of her face, and Noelle noticed the soft pink in his lips. Those lips drew closer and closer, and Kamijo released a small, triumphant smile before moving at last to kiss her.
Noelle slammed her hands into his shoulders to push him away, wrenching herself free of his grasp. This time Kamijo frowned, puzzled.
“What bothers you now, princess?” he asked. No, it was more of a demand than a request. Noelle did not spare him an explanation, she only turned and sprinted as fast as she could, dropping the rose into a slimy puddle. She had accepted Kamijo’s eyes as an oddity, but she could not accept the two prominent, pointed and gleaming white teeth in his mouth. Fangs.
Rumors of vampires had come and gone, but they had all been rubbish, pure myth. She had never taken one seriously before now. How could she have been so foolish to follow a man with blonde hair and silver eyes so blindly? And she had succumbed to his charms! Not only had she been prepared to accept a kiss from him, she had desired it with a burning hunger that no proper young lady ought to feel for any man; least of all one due to be married that very day. She had to get back to Masashi for their wedding. Once they were married, she would confess this moment of weakness and beg his forgiveness. This trial had granted her the certitude needed to overcome her marriage doubts. Ever since the announcement of their engagement whispers of Masashi’s incredible fortune had echoed throughout the ranks of high society. Noelle was now convinced it was quite the contrary. She was the lucky one. Men like Masashi were a dying breed; one of the few that truly warranted the title ‘Gentleman’. Unlike Kamijo, and innumerable other men vying for her affections, Masashi did not perceive her as an ‘object’ to claim ownership to.
Kamijo did not bother chasing after Noelle, at least not with the sort of vigor one might expect in a case such as this. No, he took his time and strolled at a leisurely pace. No matter where she went, or who she asked to help her, she would not be able to escape him. This was but a minor setback in his master strategy. His urge to have her was strong, but this was no ordinary conquest. She would be his princess, and they would share the burden of eternity together. Whether she gave her consent or not.
After running blindly without much sense of direction, Noelle was relieved to stumble across Yuki. For reasons unknown he was casually, almost aimlessly, passing down a boulevard; the alleyway Noelle now ran through opened out to it. Noelle did not scream out to him, she was already too frightened and too embarrassed for her family to do such a foolish thing now. She ran right up to him and grabbed him by the collar in the panic, looking all about for the vampire she was sure was following her.
“Yuki, we must return to the estate with haste and summon the police! I saw a vampire, a real vampire with fangs and silver eyes and he tried to.... to....” Noelle was panting heavily while her heart crashed painfully against her ribcage, and she had not looked directly at Yuki yet. Her eyes kept darting about for Kamijo. She then realized that Yuki had not uttered a word in response, and was merely standing still while she gripped his collar.
“Yuki?” Noelle’s eyes widened as a new horror struck her. “No!” She backed away from Yuki slowly, unable to grasp the concept of him being conquered. As his silence prolonged he only stared at her through hollow, silver eyes. Then he began to advance toward her slowly, matching pace with her.
“What... did he do to you?” Noelle demanded. “Yuki!” Yuki still refused to speak to her, but increased his pace. Noelle turned and ran even harder than she had before.
Who else might he have gotten to? She worried. The corset beneath her dress denied her lungs the full expansion necessary for a good breath, and after so much running, Noelle began to feel faint. Perspiration dripped down her neck and chest, and the breeze she created in her flight had tousled her hair.
In their frantic search, Noelle’s eyes strayed upon a door to an estate that was slightly ajar. It was not becoming of any young woman to barge into a home unannounced, but this was a dire emergency. How would she explain this situation to the owners though? She did not let this hinder her, and let herself into the home. The door snapped shut in her wake. Apparently it had been left ajar due to its tendency to jam when it was allowed to close. Or else someone had immediately locked it from the other side. Noelle discovered this detail in her plight to ensure herself an exit, but it was no use.
When she turned to face her surroundings she was immediately confronted by a large host of masks and alcohol. She had stumbled into a playful masquerade ball. Noelle was already so shaken by the previous events that as she was pushed and shoved into the party, she began to feel nauseous, and stumbled about with great uncertainty. Her vision faded in and out, and her head began to thunder from the uproar of laughter, music, and lively dancing. Noelle was certain that people were laughing at her because she was not appropriately dressed, and had no mask. The result of such mockery was harsh shoving to and fro, and many party-goers shoved drinks and treats in her face. Caught in the whirlwind of colors, Noelle fought to keep her early-morning breakfast down.
A plump drunkard, already red in the nose so early in the afternoon, grabbed hold of her cloak and tried to tug her into his arms. Noelle fought to free herself from his grasp, and when that did not work she slipped out of her cloak and ran, forcefully pushing people out of her way. She snagged her dress on a display of swords, the skirt of her gown bearing a large, unsightly hole.
Noelle found a back door that opened to another alley, and she darted into it without restraint, though now she was hopelessly lost, ill, and exhausted. She was crying pitifully, and stumbling as the world began spinning around her. What have I done to myself? Where do I go? Oh, I’m not even sure where I am! Noelle slowed to dizzy walk, tripping over her own feet. When at last she relented and stopped to breathe, she was grabbed from behind as if Kamijo had once again been right behind her all along. After everything that happened, it was just as likely he’d in fact been ten steps ahead of her from the very beginning.
Noelle spun around in Kamijo’s arms, kicking and screaming. The music from the party was too great, so her cries fell on deaf ears. “Let me go, you despicable monster! Release me!”
“What is the matter, princess?” Kamijo asked with a frightfully calm demeanor, his grip secure around the flailing young aristocrat. He cocked his head quizzically in a bored fashion. It was as though he could not comprehend a single, valid reason for Noelle’s vicious outburst. “I had been under the impression that you liked me.”
“You’re a cold-hearted vampire!” Noelle shouted. “I want nothing to do with you! Nothing!”
“But I want to give you everything,” Kamijo protested darkly. His features were starting to contort in moderate aggravation, and the game ceased to amuse him now. “Even eternity.”
“Unhand me! I’m to be married to someone else today!” The girl was sobbing uncontrollably, and with her strength long gone, she gave up her physical fight against him.
“Your lack of gratitude astounds me, prin-”
“Please!” Noelle begged. “Why would you have me cry so? A gentleman would not intentionally reduce a woman to tears.”
“Masashi is not waiting for you, Noelle,” Kamijo snapped icily, his patience worn thin. These words struck Noelle for three reasons. First, Kamijo had never used her name before. Secondly, his knowledge of her fiancé’s name was bewildering. And finally, over Kamijo’s shoulder, Noelle saw Masashi with the same cold, silver eyes as Kamijo’s, staring after her without an inkling of love or sorrow. Simply nothing. Noelle reached a feeble, trembling hand out to the ghost of her fiancé in a final bid for salvation, but he recoiled, turning on his heel and heading further into the depths of the alleyway where two others were waiting for him: the tailor and the messenger boy from before. Hizaki’s distant gaze fell elsewhere, but Teru offered Noelle a small, sympathetic smile before the two of them swiveled to follow Masashi’s retreating figure. This was the last thing Noelle saw before Kamijo sunk his fangs into the pale flesh of her neck, and everything faded.
Kamijo sat up in bed and calmly allowed his senses to drink in the soft aroma of roses that filled the room. Light beads of perspiration still glistened on his skin in the dim candlelight. Glancing back at his beautiful princess, he smiled and ran his fingers through a lock of her luscious, red hair.
“You’ve put me through so much trouble, princess,” he whispered. He climbed out from beneath the blankets quietly so as not to disturb her, and wrapped himself in a black, silk robe. He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Hizaki, Teru, and the newly conquered Yuki and Masashi all sat waiting patiently for him in the front room. It was a simple room, with two leather couches, ornate candle and holders, and only one large window, which was usually covered up with a gold curtain decorated in rose vines. The atmosphere it created gave each member of the clan an elegant, illustrious look.
Hizaki stood and handed his brother a glass of red wine. Kamijo raised the glass for a toast. “To the Descendants of the Rose.” Everyone raised their glasses and drank.
“Eternity is a long time,” Teru mumbled.
“Yes,” Kamijo agreed. “So let us each do our best to prepare her.”
Noelle’s eyes shot open and she jerked upright, her heart racing. Kamijo was no where to be seen, and she was alone in an unfamiliar bed. Slowly she managed to calm herself. Eternity, Noelle thought, picking up one of the many rose petals strewn about the bed. She hardly remembered anything at all, only Kamijo’s lips on her skin. He had taken her body... and her mortality.
Eternity.