Another Example of my Work

Before I got into writing my own stories, I really enjoyed writing FanFic for Vampire Academy by Richelle Mead. Here is a chapter that I wrote a while back. Please read and review! Thanks!

Chapter 1: The Cafe

Some say it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. Right now, I agree with that statement. The time that I had with Rose before I changed will always be a part of me. A reminder that I was once happy, that I once deserved to be happy. But I don’t deserve that any more. Not after what I’ve done.

Lissa saved me from the demon that I had become, but the life I lived as the undead has condemned me. I am dhampir, but I will never be who I was. I will never be the man who loved Rose completely. How can I love her when I hate myself? But whoever spoke those wise words was right. My life is better because I loved her, and even now that I have chosen not to keep her in my life, I am grateful for the love we once shared. I am grateful for the memories.

She keeps asking to see me, but I’m not ready for that. I need to let her go. I need her to not want me anymore. She doesn’t understand that seeing her, hearing her voice, kills my heart. She was my only reason for living, and I lost that when I lost my life. She became a game to me, and conquest. I abused her. How can she forgive me? Why would she? I can’t let her forget what I did.

My heart longs for her, for her connection, her understanding. No one understands me like she does. But now, not even she can understand. I can’t. Undead or not, how could I have done those terrible things to her? Every time I close my eyes, I remember. They aren’t my memories I see, but it is me biting her, bribing her, attacking her. It was me, I remind myself, and that’s why I can’t be with her.

The Moroi don’t trust me. I can’t blame them. But at least they let me leave my cell. I’m not free, though, always a prisoner to those horrid memories. The memories from when I was Strigoi, the memories of the pain her eyes. She trusts me so completely, so quick to believe anything I tell her. Oh, Roza. How could you believe me? Love fades. Mine has.

It was the hardest thing I have ever had to say, but she needed to hear it. She needs to forget me and move on, and maybe if she thinks I don’t love her, she will. But how could she believe me. How could she believe so easily? Years of practicing a façade of no emotion made it easy for me not to show my angst and my heart breaking with those words, but my eyes must have held the truth. I felt them pleading for her to understand. But she didn’t see. She just saw the stone cold exterior that held together my breaking soul. As she ran from the church, I almost felt dead again.

Absentmindedly, I turn another page to my novel. My eyes scan the words on the pages, but I’m not comprehending them. Though I’ve been stripped of my title, my instincts are still intact. My eyes dart from each of the Guardians of my escort, to the couple by the counter, the staff, the door. I know my escape route, and I’ve determined there is no danger, but somehow, I’m still feel alert. I turn another page.

I felt the chilled wind from outside invade the café as someone opened the door and entered. I keep my eyes down, knowing whoever it is will allow their gaze to linger on me as they try to determine if I’ve really turned back to a dhampir. I hate the states, so I pretend to ignore them. But this time, it’s different. The door to the outside has close, but a warm chill runs through my body. I know before I lift my eyes who will be standing in front me. I’m always aware when Rose is near.

Our eyes met for the slightest moment, and she turns away. She seems determined not to acknowledge me. I am grateful for that. I have to work so hard to keep the smile from creeping onto my lips, to keep my impassive exterior in place. Even as my heart breaks with the memories that flood my mind of the days she spent as my hostage, my stomach flutters to have her so close.

As the air between us grows thick, I know that she is aware I’m here. But she’s ignoring me. I’m not sure if I’m happy or disappointed. For her sake, I’m happy. She doesn’t need me in her life. I vowed to protect her, before I changed, and I will keep that promise, though now it takes on a different meaning. I must protect her from me.

The minutes she stands at the counter feel like hours and seconds all at the same time. Finally, she turns to leave, eyes set away from me when my guard calls out to her, “Hey Rose. Are you going to the Council today?” She hesitates. Not enough that I think anyone notices but me. I can tell she’s trying to compose herself. I hurt her worse than I thought. Love fades. Mine has. My words were haunting me, I can’t imagine how badly the stung at her. I hated to hurt her, but it’s what she needed.

And then, her hesitation was gone and a beautiful but fake smile played at her lips. She carefully spoke only to my escort, keeping her gaze from me. “Yup. Just grabbing a bite to before I go.”

With a smile on his face, another guard questions her. I wish they would just let her leave. “Are they going to let you in?” I can only assume from the direction of this conversation that Rose let her control slip again. Her passion for life and protecting everyone around her has an uncanny ability to get her into trouble, and it seems to have done it again.

“That’s an excellent question,” Rose replied, her forced smile relaxing into a genuine one. “But I figure I should give it a try. I’ll also try to be on good behavior.” My own chuckle was masked by that of the guardian who began the conversation, and I was glad it went unnoticed. I enjoyed her being near, and I didn’t want to have to push her away again.

“I certainly hope not. That group deserves all the grief you can give them over that stupid age law.” As the guardian spoke, my attention snapped into focus on the words being said rather than watching Rose. Age law.

“What age law?” I could no longer refrain from participating in this conversation. I knew some royals were considering pushing for such a ridiculous amendment to dhampir education, but I didn’t think the queen would ever take it seriously.

Rose turned towards me slowly, controlling her face, but her eyes betrayed her true feelings. Seeing the pain and confusion beneath her stony expression, I realized that I, too, betrayed her. Who was I to deny her anything she wanted? Could I really be with her again?

“The decree where royals think sending sixteen-year-old dhampirs out to fight Strigoi is the same as sending eighteen-year-olds.” Her voice was controlled, and cold. I couldn’t worry about that right now.

I felt my body respond to the threat the new law imposed to dhampirs, and I straightened into my guardian stance, no longer, forcing the relaxed, nonchalant exterior of someone enjoying a book. “Which sixteen-year-olds are fighting Strigoi?”

Around me, my five escorts also responded to a threat. Me. Instinctively, the picked up on my quick change in demeanor and were suddenly alter and aware. Hesitantly, whether because of the éclair she was trying to eat or maybe I had frightened her as well, Rose responded, “That’s the decree. Dhampirs graduate when they’re sixteen now.”

“When did this happen?”

“Just the other day. No one told you?” One of my personal guardians responded to Rose’s question with a shrug, confirming that our relationship was anything but a social one. They were assigned to me to protect others, not to become cronies. But Lissa hadn’t told me either. Had she tried? I quickly replayed our conversations. Did she not trust me either?

“No.” I answered both Rose’s question and my own. What did the royals hope to gain by graduating dhampirs earlier? Did they not realize that doing so was just putting their lives more at risk? These students aren’t emotionally ready to handle this sort of stress. Look at what it did to Rose when she killed her first Strigoi, and she was seventeen. How could they think this was a good idea? “That’s insane. Morality aside, they aren’t ready that young. It’s suicide.”

I realized that I was speaking my thoughts when Rose responded. “I know. Tasha gave a really good argument against it.” She hesitated, and color rose to her cheeks when she spoke again. “I did, too.” Roza. The color in her cheeks and the smiles on the faces of the guardians around us confirmed what I already knew. I sighed. She really needed to learn to control her temper.

“Was it a close vote?” As I questioned Rose, I felt myself fall back into my guardian routine. I locked her as a distraction back into the corner of my heart and allowed the more pressing conversation consume me. The lives of younger generations of dhampirs are more important than my tormented existence.

“Very close. If Lissa could have noted, it wouldn’t have been passed.” Rose started to relax a bit. It seemed she was enjoying our conversation about a topic other than us.

“Ah, the quorum.” The Moroi law seemed like a loophole to me, to give the ruling vote the ability to negate a Royal’s rank if needed.

“You know about that?” Surprise lacing her words. If I didn’t know her better, I would have thought she was insulting me.

“It’s an old Moroi law.”

“So I hear.”

As Rose and I discussed the new decree more, I tried to ignore the joy I felt for having her near and the anger that I felt towards the Moroi Royals. I always fight to maintain control, and when I referenced my treatment during the interrogation, I knew my voice faltered and resentment spilled through my words. Rose seemed content to let me play through the situation in my mind and talk through what I was thinking. I was calculating the meaning of the Royal’s actions. I recognized that something was out of place, but could determine exactly what it was.

I could see the emotions play through Rose’s mind as she was obviously recounting parts of our past. Her eyes mirrored the longing I felt, a longing I hope my eyes kept secret. Suddenly a change in her eyes startled me, and I could no longer see what she was feeling. The coldness in her gaze was bittersweet. Maybe she finally understood what I had been saying to her in the church. Love fades. Mine has. Maybe she finally understood we can’t be together. And with that understanding, I knew I would have to mourn her loss from my life. And my heart broke all over again. I felt my stomach fall to the floor and my body protest as my heart tried to cease beating.

None of this I let Rose see. I just kept talking about the decree, formulating my plan to take action. “The next time you see Tasha, will you send her to me? We need to talk about this.”

“So, Tasha can be your friend, but not me?” Rose spat hatred and jealousy at me and then flushed with embarrassment. For a moment her eyes were alive with emotion again, but I didn’t try to read them. I needed to make her understand.

I asked the guardians to give us some space, and obligingly, the stepped away to a whispered conversation would be unheard. As I turned back to Rose, she sat down across from me. Desperately, I needed Rose to understand, but I didn’t want her to know what I was holding inside. “You and Tasha have completely different situations. She can safely be in my life. You can’t.”

I forced the words from my mouth with no emotion, hearing how cold they sounded. Knowing I had to this, and hating myself for it at the same time. Her face was immediately streaked with anger as she flipped her hair from her shoulder. In that moment, nothing else existed except for the two small wounds and light bruise on her shoulder. As she protested her new role in my life, the bite on her should gnawed holes in my heart. I was slightly repulsed by the bite, but understood at the same time that it was her attempt to move on.

“It doesn’t seem like you need me in your life.” My words were colder than before, almost lifeless, and I was building the wall of control so she wouldn’t see how betrayed I felt. Confusion turned to understanding when I inclined my head in the direction of her shoulder, and she pulled a curtain of her hair back over her should to mask her disgrace.

“That’s none of your business,” she hissed at me, and I hoped again, that maybe she understood.

“Exactly. Because you need to live your own life, far away from me.” From the bottom of my heart, I know my statement is true, but I desperately wish it wasn’t.

Rose began to speak again. She hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t hear the rhythmic beat of the approaching guard. They were advancing on us quickly. I quickly assessed the room again. There was no threat, except for me. But I wasn’t sure why they would be coming for me.

As they entered the room, I noticed the red pin that marked this class of guardians as the Queens guard. Walking Death. In an instant, both Rose and I were on our feet. Months of training together, and I trusted her instincts, knowing she trusted mine. Without a thought, I turned my back to her to face the guards who were closing around us. My escorts, though obviously confused, recognized the guard was coming for me and joined their ranks.

A Guardian demanded, “You need to come with us. If you resist, we’ll take you by force.”

Before his threat left his lips, Rose was yelling “Leave him alone.” Protecting me, despite everything I had done to her. She is so pure at heart. So kind. But I knew from the looks on the guards’ faces, she was also so wrong. They weren’t here for me. They had come to take her. And I would protect her. As I promised.

Beyond confused, Rose questioned the response that confirmed what I read on their faces. “You’re… you’re here for me?”

“What for?” My anger towards the guard and pure fear for Rose filled my muscles as I prepared to do whatever it took to protect the woman I love. I couldn’t let anything happen to her, even if that meant I had to suffer internally to be by her side.

The guards ignored me, barking another order for Rose to go with them, as he showed the handcuffs in his hands.

“That’s crazy!” Rose yelled out in her natural defiance that tainted with fear. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me how the hell this—” The rest of Rose’s words were choked off by action as two guards lunged towards her. She defended herself against the two, as more advanced.

My vision was tinted in red when I saw a Guardian grab Rose around the arm and attempt to restrain her arms. Before my mind decided to act, my arms were already around Rose pulling her away from the threat. With a voice purely animalistic, I growled at the guardians, “Don’t touch her.”

I surrendered my body to the instinct to protect the woman I love and pinned her between me and the table, with my back to her. As guards attacked, I defended her, knowing nothing she did warranted this type of response from the Royals. I was aware only of her safely behind me and the space between me and the guards. As the guards displaced the air between us in their attempt to attack, I responded, careful not to kill them, but certain to incapacitate them.

In a haze not related to the fight, I could hear the faint whisper of a memory as I explained to Rose that I couldn’t love her. You and I will both be Lissa’s guardians some day. I need to protect her at all cost. If a pact of Strigoi come, I need to throw my body between them and her. If I let myself love you, I won’t throw myself in front of her. I’ll throw myself in front of you. Even when I spoke those words to her, I knew it was too late. Lissa would be my guard, but Rose was my priority. These guardians aren’t Strigoi, but they are threatening her all the same.

“Stay back.” My demand was a plea, my comment a promise, “They aren’t laying a hand on you.”

Not even a moment later, her gentle touch on side contradicted that harshness of her scream, “Stop! I’ll come! I’ll come with you!” I heard her, I felt her touch and longed to respond to it, but my instincts to protect her where still controlling me. No one else responded either, so I kept fighting. But she began to shake my arm. My body responding her touch, yearning for more, but still alert to the danger around us. She was pleading with me, “Stop! Don’t fight anymore.”

“Rose—” I’m not sure what I was going to say to her, but I raised my hand in response to another approach guardian.

Again, she screamed for me to stop, throwing her weight into me. Her gentle whisper pleading for me to hear her. “Stop. Don’t fight them anymore. I’m going to go with them.”

“I won’t let them take you.” I will throw myself in front of you. My words weren’t only a promise, but a request for her to hear the love I couldn’t profess at this moment.

Pain, angst, and fear shown through her eyes as she begged me. She was trying to tell me something without using the words. But as a guard stepped crept closer to wear she was behind me, my attention was focused on him. She then grabbed my hand and my full my attention and put herself between the guard and me. Like she was protecting me. Her intense gaze bore into my soul. “Please, now more.”

And I understood. She was protecting me. She was afraid for me and my image. People still don’t trust that I’m no longer Strigoi and my techniques that make me the guardian I was could also be interpreted as aggression associated with the undead. She was begging me with the touch of her hand and her soft, fearful eyes to stop fighting to protect me.

I felt my face fall with comprehension. The strong controlled exterior melted with her sacrifice. I will protect her until I fall or they all fall, but I will keep fighting. She must have seen my unspoken message because she shook her head and squeezed my hand before dropping it.

I held my hand out for a fraction of a second willing her to grab it again. Not to surrender, not to leave me. But with the maturity that marked Rose as a great guardian when she needed it, she kept her eyes locked forward and presented her wrists to the guards. She pleaded with the guards not to take me, “I’ll go quietly. But please… don’t lock him back up. He just thought… he just thought I was in trouble.”

As the guards snapped the handcuff into place on her wrists, Rose was selflessly trying to protect me when she needed to worry for herself. A plan was already beginning to formulate in my mind as to how I was going to get her out of this when the guard proclaimed, “Rosemarie Hathaway, you are under arrest for high treason.” My planning came to a halt as she asked the question that was already on my lips.

“What kind of high treason?” Her voice was calm, controlled.

And then my world stopped. “The murder of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Tatiana.” Death.

Published in: on 03.20.2011 at 1:15 am  Leave a Comment  

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