The Handmaiden's Contract

Author's Note: So this is something I've been working on the past few days. Slightly experimental, but also just to play around in a new setting that I'm interested in exploring further. Do let me know what you think.

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The Handmaiden's Contract

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The moon was bright tonight, with barely any clouds to obscure the brilliance of the stars. The weaving band of green and blue lights were almost magical in their beauty, lending a light to the world that almost tempered Olivia's nervousness.

Wandering the streets of the city alone at night though, had her almost paranoid. She'd prefer to be back at the brothel, where the flickering flames in sconces, and candles on bedside tables, kept the night at bay. Where the clink of coin and the unloving thrusts of clients allowed her to pretend things would be okay. Even if she had no one anymore. Now that her parents were long buried, and her husband's corpse served in the Duchess's army.

The invitation from the Duchess Erika herself had been a surprise, and now Olivia found herself out here on the streets making her way towards the castle. If she were near the walls she might hear the howls of the dire wolves, or the wails of ghosts within the forest that surrounded this place. Isolated and alone. Much like Olivia herself.

Approaching the portculis of the castle, Olivia glanced to the two skeletal guards standing on either side. Their spears didn't waver, and their empty sockets stared at her approach. A cold shiver crawled up her spine as she presented her invitation to the one on the left. She could not fathom how it read, but it regarded the parchment, then its ever grinning visage shifted to look forward again.

They said nothing, made no gestures, and for a moment Olivia was unsure what to do. She stood there in the night, between two undead guards. The wind tugged at her hair and her skirts, and the chill began to creep into her skin.

Eventually she took a tentative step forward. The guards did nothing to stop her, so she moved through the portcullis and into the carefully tended courtyard. While her feet followed the carefully cobbled pathway, her eyes swept the colourful gardens and gargoyle statues that adorned the shorn lawn. Stopping at the double oaken doors, Olivia was unsure whether to let herself in or knock. She stood there, looking at the iron bars that reinforced the castle's proper entrance.

Taking in a breath, Olivia reached out and pressed her hand to the right door. Just before her skin pressed to the cold wood, the hinges creaked and both doors slowly swung inwards. Beyond lay the antechamber of the castle, a plush red carpet running up the centre towards the doors Olivia guessed would open to the great hall.

Standing on the threshold, Oliva took her first few steps inwards, until she could feel that carpet beneath the thin soles of her shoes. Behind her, the doors groaned as they swung shut. Turning, Olivia could see nothing to have actually closed them. A shudder ran up her spine and she began moving forward once more, even as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

No one came to greet her. No voices called to her. No dead men stared and beckoned.

She was alone.

Letting her eyes crawl along the walls, she saw vibrant tapestries of black and violet depicting the sigils of Aenkleth, and the Clan. Between them stood empty suits of armour holding to halberds. The plates of metal were polished to a shine that reflected the blue balefire flickering in their iron sconces. A few doors were tucked in behind carved columns that ran floor to ceiling. There was no heat in here, and goosebumps rose along her arms.

Crossing her arms across her chest she stepped quicker, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. She stopped in front of the next doors, and pressed her hand to them. Nothing happened.

She felt eyes upon her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw nothing. Just the empty hall. Just the carpet, armour, and balefires. The blue flames casting their cold glow over the stone. Turning back, she grasped the ring of the door and pushed. The well oiled hinges made not a sound as it opened to another chilled room lit by a balefire chandelier.

The grand hall of Duchess Erika Lyv Drakhel.

It was wider than the antechamber, and windowless. Two long tables, dusted and clean, ran the length of the chamber, with enough room between for guests to comfortably gather. At the head was a shorter table, with seats for only six, the two chairs in the middle taller than the others. There were more columns along the walls, casting tall shadows to partially obscure the exits, and more banners.

There were also two women standing near one such column. Their pale sharp visages turned towards the main entrance. Clad in tight dresses of rich red and black they were close to one another. The shorter of the two, her silvery blonde hair braided from her temples to fall down her back, had her own dress pulled off the shoulder to expose a breast. Even from here, Olivia could see two thin lines of crimson running from just above her nipple.

The other, her hair a red so rich only dyes could have accomplished it, had her locks pulled into a high bun before spilling down her back. Her dark lips glistened in the balefire light, and the slightest smudge of blood just beneath her smile.

"My, my. And who are you?" the blonde said in a sensuous purr, and Olivia felt her mouth go dry. Fear and desire clashed in her as the women slid away from each other and towards her. Their movements feline, predatory. Those seductive curls of the lips never dropping from their features as they came ever closer. The blonde only seemed to tuck her breast away as an afterthought, though the cleavage her dress offered left little to the imagination.

A hand gliding along Olivia's cheek had her turning towards the red headed vampire, now at her side. Her green eyes bearing into Olivia's own, promising pleasures untold, and death. The tips of her fangs, peeking from behind those blood glinting lips, promised the same things. Olivia's mouth opened and closed, as she felt the soft form of the blonde woman against her. Turning her head, Olivia felt the press of a bust against her. Felt the brush of the braid dragging over her own as the blonde leaned in. Her nostrils flaring as she sniffed, sensing the life pulsing through Olivia's veins.

"I... I was invited," Olivia finally managed, looking again to the red head. Feeling the tip of the blonde's nose gliding up her neck. The ghosting of lips without the familiar caress of breath soon reaching the edge of her jaw.

"And who invited you, pretty little morsel?" the red head purred, making Olivia want to flee. Making her want to be pulled into her embrace. She didn't move, letting them toy with her, and Olivia was reminded again of cats.

"The duchess," Olivia managed, her eyes locked into that green gaze.

She felt the graze of fangs, running along her jawline until the blonde's upper lip grazed the lobe of her ear. A soft little groan spilled from Olivia then, making the red head's smile widen, showing more of her fangs. More of those promises and pleasure and death. Heat swelled in her loins, while fingertips danced up her spine, before sharp claw like nails grazed the base of her neck. Each touch sending shivers.

"A shame. You smell delectable. I don't think the Duchess would mind us taking a small sample," the red head said, leaning in. Olivia watched those glinting fangs get closer, even losing track of those gorgeous eyes. Her heart pounded, as she felt a tongue gliding over her neck. Cool and wet upon the skin, and sending its own shivers to her loins.

"Perhaps not normally m'ladies. But this one is to be a gift. The Duchess wishes her unsoiled," a calm voice said from the far end of the hall. Glancing over tables and into shadows, Olivia saw a slender middle aged woman stepping into the light. Her own dress was plainer than those the vampire pair wore. The blue not as rich, the fabric heavier and not as flattering.

"As the Duchess wishes," the red headed vampire said, not taking her eyes from Olivia's neck. She was close enough that Olivia would have felt a human's breath. But there was none, just the scent of perfumes and the underlining tang of blood. Her tongue ran out, running along Olivia's lips.

"Have no fear pretty morsel. You may be able to savour my bite on another night," she said, only then peeling away. The blonde followed suit, her fingertips gliding across Olivia's lower back.

Standing there a moment, she tried to recollect her thoughts. To sort her mind. Her heart was still pounding, and her skin tingling from the touches. The heat between her legs almost demanded attention. A cold sweat had her skin glistening. She was relieved at the intervention, and frustrated by it.

"Please, take your time. I can see this is your first encounter so close with a vampire, and the first is always... something to remember," the woman said, and Olivia found herself nodding though she was still looking forward. To where the red headed vampire had stood but a moment ago. She settled a hand over her chest, letting out long breaths through pursed lips.

"My name is Helge. I am handmaiden to Duchess Erika Lyv Drakhel. I too remember my first time. It is certainly, terrifying, yet to me holding an eroticism that still has yet to fade," the other woman drew in a long breath and Olivia finally looked to her, seeing more details in her visage now that she was standing so close. The crow's feet at her eyes, the pale pink scars on her neck. Olivia guessed that there were more, but her dress concealed much of her skin, likely because of the castle's chill.

"Olivia. My name is Olivia," she told the handmaiden, who only smiled. It was a friendly one, welcoming and warm. Somewhat of a relief after the near sensory assault of those feline grins from the vampire nobles.

"I know. My Mistress asked me to come retrieve you here. In case some of the other residents found you. But, if you are ready, please follow me," Helge said, gesturing with one hand as she turned towards the back of the room.

Hoping her flush had finally died down, though her heart was still hammering in her breast, Olivia followed. Stepping into the darkness of the shadows and hearing only the whisper of the door opening. Helge's footfalls made no sound as she started up the revealed stairwell behind the door. The handmaiden herself was more akin to the shadows than a breathing woman, though Olivia had seen her chest rising and falling. She swallowed, and started up the stairs, making sure to close the door behind her.

In here the sconces were rare, and great swathes of darkness made the climb slow and difficult for Olivia. Ahead of her Helge often had to pause, glancing back to ensure the young woman was keeping up. She seemed entirely unbothered by the dark. Olivia wondered if she would be this way in a few years, when the lines of age began to etch themselves into her skin.

They passed a few landings, the doors leading back into the castle proper closed. Olivia felt lost. Unsure of where she was being led. Eventually Helge stopped, opening a door and moving through into a corridor. More columns, a few empty suits of armour, a few sconces of balefire, but no banners, no carpets.

"This floor is for my Mistress, and her sister when she spends time here at the castle. Which is often," Helge explained, once Olivia had walked out. Hearing exactly where she was, she felt her heart starting to beat faster again. Helge's stony expression cracked, a slight curl of the lips.

"Come. She is expecting you," the handmaiden said, walking down the corridor. It was still chilled, perhaps more so this high up. Olivia could hear the gentle slide of her shoes on the stone floors, but heard not a sound from her guide. She wondered how she had learned to move like that.

The thoughts were cut short when Helge stopped at yet another door and opened it, before she estured for Olivia to enter. She took a breath, knowing the Duchess was in the room beyond. She stepped forward, entering yet another unknown, and Helge made no move to enter. The door closed behind Olivia, letting her look around.

The room looked to be a study of some sort. A single candle flickered with balefire, but most of the light came from the moonlight streaming in through the large window that overlooked the countryside. Thick black curtains were drawn to the side and bound by red cord. A large desk was nestled towards one wall, facing towards that same window, and the walls were lined with book shelves and paintings. Most of the later Olivia could not make out through the shadows, but the one above the desk showed two women standing beside each other. Each of them beautiful, though there was little to their expressions.

"The rose stood alone and owed, and with time wilted. When through fields once more the blood flowed, the rose stood proud and alighted," a cool but honeyed voice purred from the shadows, followed by the snap of a book closing.

"Varia Irenea was an astoundingly educated woman, but her poetry left much to be desired. Still, it is a favourite of mine," the voice continued as a woman emerged from the shadows. The moonlight sliding over her svelte form like water. Her dark dress clung to those curves, the shadows of her cleavage enticing to the eyes. Olivia immediately recognized her from the painting, and knew she was looking upon the Duchess Erika Lyv Drakhel. The woman though, even with her cool gaze, seemed far more full of life than her painting could portray, or that her vampiric status had any right to convey.

"Of course, I primarily partake in her works for her observations in the shifting decorum of the Ryzan court when the Emperor and Empress found themselves cursed. So they claim to be anyway," Erika continued, moving to one of the bookshelves and sliding the tome she held between two others. Her hair fell over her shoulders and along her back like a silken waterfall of raven black. Olivia found herself staring, trying to keep her jaw closed.

The Duchess stood there a moment, slowly running her finger along the spine of the book. She turned her head, dragging hair over her shoulder and showing the angles of her shoulder blades. Eyes the blue of balefire looked at Olivia, rimmed with dark kohl that made her gaze all the more intense. Her sharp features seemed to be gauging Olivia, who only now remembered to dip into a curtsy.

"Rise. Lift your chin," Erika said as she seemed to glide across the room. Olivia hurried to meet the demands but soon enough Erika was standing directly in front of her. Her cool hands cupping Olivia's chin, thumb running across her lips. A shiver of desire ran up her spine. The Duchess seemed to notice, her dark lips curling into a sensuous smile.

"Olivia Niedenhoff. Orphaned, widowed, and childless. The body of your husband serves in my army, your purse near empty, and knew no trades. So you turned to the brothel and prostitution, and have been earning your keep there these past six months. Tell me, have you learned much there?" Erika said, and before Olivia could bring an answer forth, the Duchess leaned in. Close enough that the smell of jasmine and cedar ran across the prostitute's awareness. She let out a soft gasp, feeling the bust of the other woman grazing her own, and lips trailing towards her ear.

"From what I can see, you are quite easy to fluster," she said, her fingertips gliding downwards. Off Olivia's neck to her own cleavage. Cleanly cut nails ghosted along the edge of the neckline, teasing just under the hem of fabric. Eventually her hand curled, more fingers sliding within the dress.

"Some. Mostly ways to pleasure. And mostly men," she admitted, feeling that hand gliding further over her breast, starting to push back the neckline of her dress until she was cupped. She felt her own hardened nipple pressing into Erika's palm. Despite herself, Olivia let out a low groan. She felt Erika's lips curling against her skin, felt the fangs coming free and pressing just beneath her ear. Her heart was pounding incessantly. A drum within her breast.

"Mostly men. Tell me, do you enjoy your work? Or do you simply take comfort from having someone inside you to cure your loneliness?" Erika said, her lips brushing Olivia's ear with each word, the occasional graze of a fang cascading shivers through her scalp.

She licked her lips, her hands almost twitching at her sides where she still held to her skirts. Her mind whirled, unused to such a personal question. And feeling the vampire's body just barely touching her own, the hand now squeezing at her breast, she felt doors opening. Lust and fear now inviting in the sorrow that had plagued her since her husbands death those months ago. Her mouth parted to let free another groan, even as tears welled in her eyes.

"Comfort. The sex is... not usually in my favour. Those times it is, I let myself enjoy it fully," Olivia admitted, and felt the vampire starting to pull away. Part of her was relieved, much of her wanted it to continue. Even as nails dragged across her breast, leaving her exposed, she felt herself missing the intimate touch.

"I have a proposition for you my dear. A position in my staff," Erika said, moving towards her desk, and Olivia felt her eyes drawn to the sway of her hips.

Standing there a moment, watching the vampire, it took almost until the Duchess was at her desk before she hesitantly fixed her dress. Erika sat herself, and beckoned Olivia over with a simple crook of her finger.

"My sister has need of a handmaiden of her own. You will be paid a salary of 2 Krons a month, as well as provided room and board in the servants quarters of the castle. You will be under my employ technically, though you will take no orders from myself. This simply means you will be paid by my Chamberlain, Lady Moira Lyv Targan. You have not met her as yet," Erika said, bringing over two sheets of parchment cluttered with writing. She recognized the Drakhel seal at the bottom of each with two lines for signatures. It was a contract, and her eyes widened as she realized why she had been summoned.

Leaning back, Erika watched Olivia staring at the contract. Watched the open mouth, and listened to her heart pounding still in her chest. It had only slowed somewhat since she'd broken the touch, but the woman wore her emotions clearly. She had much to learn if she wanted to survive at court, but Erika knew her sister might appreciate something to help her get away from the courtly life.

"Your duties will be to serve my sister, Dame Lyra Lyv Drakhel, during her stays at this castle. This will include bathing, dressing, cleaning. You will be expected to provide some of your blood for her, and sexual intimacy. She may have other duties you are expected to perform, and so long as she is in this castle you will be at her beck and call. You will address her as Mistress, and you will obey her over all others, even if their standing is higher than her own. Do you agree to these terms?" Erika said, watching as Olivia's eyes ran over the parchment, reading every single word. Erika was impressed the woman had enough foresight to check the contract herself, even through the swirling emotions on her face.

Glancing upwards at the painting above the desk, Olivia studied the two women there. On the left was Erika, and from the rumours she'd heard, she had to guess Lyra was the taller woman on the right. Just as sharp featured, same balefire blue eyes that weren't quite captured with paints, same enchanting lips. But her bearing was more soldierly, disciplined. At least in the painting. The exposed arms in the painting showed more muscle definition, and Olivia found herself imagining those holding her down.