Pinpricks of light fell through the lace curtains, giving the dank meeting room and already ominous glow to the chandelier on the ceiling. It fell on the shoulders of about a dozen or so stern looking men, each with their own wine glass placed exactly one foot to the right and two feet in front of them on the table, also covered in black lace. They were filled to the brim with red colored liquid, not wine, but something else, more...aromatic.

None of the men in the room touched them, hands too busy trying to prove their owners point.

"But Sir," one yelled, a five foot eleven brunette, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, "if we carry the plan out tomorrow, he'll be too occupied to notice anything!"

"Kuhn, you know that is a foolish plan. He has people, as we do, and they know where he is going, what he is doing, what he's going to be eating for Gott's sake. We can't just go in and..."

"What other choice do we have, Mauer? No other days are open for him, after that he disappears for another year, and we don't have enough men to tail him half way around the country!"

"We won't need to", came the simple reply, said from the head of the table. There sat a small boy, probably twelve, thirteen years old from the looks of it. His head was shrouded in the darkness the light couldn't reach, letting the silver buttons on his shirt gleam in the scant moonlight.

"S-Sir?" asked Mauer, wondering what the boy was thinking. Surely he didn't think they would go with Kuhn's plan? The man was foolish, thinking they could go in and...

"We follow Kuhn's plan. We go in, take everyone as quickly and quietly as possible, and no one is ever the wiser. Is that simple enough for you, or should I be plainer?"

That jab infuriated Mauer. "Who do you think you are?" He stood abruptly, almost toppling the wine glass and its contents onto the table. The chair fell back with a loud thud.

"Me? Well, I suppose I am the boy with your life in my hands, if I am not mistaken. Oh, and the lives of your wife and child if my facts are straight. Why? Do you feel like gambling tonight?" the boy teased, sitting back more comfortably. He played with the lapel on his collar, flicking a dust bunny off and onto the carpet.

Mauer gave a loud growl, stomping out of his chair from halfway down the long table and heading towards the boy, fangs gleaming and muscles tensing for a fight. Everyone's eyes were on either Mauer, or the child, nervous but excited for the upcoming fight. The larger of the two reached the other, grabbing him by the throat and yanking his face up to eye level. The room fell deadly silent and twin glares were exchanged, both pairs of eyes going deep red and fangs protruding pasts their lips.

"Listen, boy," Mauer started, increasing his grip on the small neck, "I don't take orders from a worthless child. If you think I'll let you-".

His voice died, not from realization that he was assaulting his boss, but from the fact that a large knife had pierced his throat, pinning him to the wall parallel to the table. Ludwig was pulled to the side and choked momentarily, but a pair of hands held him up as Mauer's own let go, falling beside his bleeding body. Red drops fell on the floor with soft noises, and a few moments later the other men in the room were in a frenzy, ripping limbs off of the body, chewing and grinding.

With a sigh, Ludwig dropped back in his seat, rubbing his pained throat.

"Did he hurt you?" his savior asked, a tall albino with eyes a deeper red than anyone else's in the room, matching only Ludwig's. His large hands pressed out the wrinkles in his shirt and smoothed out the blonde hair.

"No, I'm fine. I've taken far worse hits than that." Ludwig looked over to the animals that were once his trained men, and to the mangled limbs that used to be a vampire. "And get these cretins out, and clean up the blood. Any more time in here and I might go feral too"

"Yes, master" Gilbert walked over, picking up what was left of the body with his thumb and forefinger, opening a window and throwing out onto the lawn. The creatures followed, trailing the blood as it dripped down the wall. He left the window reluctantly and glanced at the bloody carpet.

"No. You promised you'd fast until the plan was carried out. Now come with me." The elder followed the order, dragging the table cloth with him, spilling the blood from the wine glasses onto the table. If he couldn't have any, no one could. With an exaggerated sigh he knew his master could hear, he left the room, blocking out the tempting smell and inhaling the new and more pleasant aroma of his young mate.

"Well?" Ludwig looked up at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. He tapped his foot and glared. Instead of words, he received a sharp laugh and a lift into the air. The smell, the sound, the sight of Ludwig could always bring him out of his sour mood, and the blonde couldn't help but laugh with him. The memories of the fight were temporarily put out of his mind, until a tender hug from his lover sent pain up his throat.

"Are you okay, my lord?" Gilbert halted his steps, pulling Ludwig away from his body to inspect closely the fresh purple bruises. His long fingers rubbed the skin around it tenderly, watching the color fade to a slight pinkish as he did so.

"I already told you, I'm fine. And drop the 'my lord' charade, no one's here but you and me." He clung tighter to Gilbert's chest.

"You didn't seem fine when it happened. Why didn't you do anything? What if I couldn't stop him?" Gilbert asked worriedly, stopping on the high stairs, turning Ludwig's body to face him. "I won't be around to save you forever, mein Prinz."

"What? Of course you will, why are you saying that?" He looked up confused and hurt, did this mean Gilbert didn't love him anymore? Tears pricked in his eyes, but he willed them away. He was always told that crying was for girls, and especially not dignifying for a soon-to-be vampire lord.

"I...just forget about it, I didn't mean anything by it." He walked up the stairs again, only stopping to open the door to Ludwig's bedroom. He carried the now silent blonde inside, setting him down on the bed and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Ludwig let him, as the nightly ritual gave him time to get his mind on other matters than the unsettling comment. When he was almost fully nude, save for his underwear, Gilbert grabbed a pair of pajama's from the dresser, slipping them over his mate's head and pulling the pants up his legs.

No words were ever exchanged during it, not even a glance was spared. Ludwig, feeling too awkward, and Gilbert knowing this, didn't want to make it any harder. When he was done, he stood up and turned to the door.

"I trust you can brush your own teeth, Ludwig. Goodnight." He finished quietly, lowering the oil lamps glow at the door. His hand was about to reach for the doorknob before he was interrupted.

"Stay." The word was not asked, but commanded, and, as servant to master, Gilbert obeyed, but without some remarks first.

"I should not. You know the rules of the bond, I cannot sleep with you, innocent or otherwise, until the plan is carried out" he said blankly, not turning around.

"It was not a question, but an order. I was not asking for you to sleep with me. Just get on the bed, you fool." The words could have been taken as a tease, but instead they stung, as he intended them too. With a quiet growl Gilbert turned around on his heel, striding like a shadow to the large bed, but not sitting down. With more force than was really necessary, or possible had he been human. Ludwig took hold of the others wrist, jerking him sharply onto the bed.

"I told you to sit, you disobeyed me."

"Yes, I did. I do not believe doing this is prudent or wise. You know the rules, I cannot-"

"I only want you to be with me until I fall asleep" Ludwig said quietly, looking at a random spot on the floor, fiddling nervously with the black bedsheets. He heard a small laugh and then the groan of the bed springs as Gilbert sat on the bed. Then he felt his neat hair being mussed, long fingers running through the blonde strands.

"You are still too much like a human, kleine. Sometimes I regret turning you, you would've been much funner to keep than you are now." Ludwig rolled his eyes at the teasing, laying back and watching as his mate copied him, pulling him close.

"But, if I didn't, I wouldn't have an heir to my kingdom, so I suppose I'll have to settle with you as you are now."

"Settle? What, am I not up to your standards as your successor?" he teased back, turning up a fake hurt and confused expression.

"Oh no, my lord, you are handling everything wonderfully. Other than the fact that you challenged one of your most trained followers and I had to rescue you. No, you're doing great."

At mention of the fight, Ludwig fell silent, thoughts running through his head like wildfire. "My lord, is everything all right?" the older inquired, puzzled by the silence.

"What did you mean by you "wouldn't be around forever to save me"?" The child all but shouted, tears forming again, but running freely down his face. "You told me we could live forever, what were you talking about?"

"Ludwig, what I meant was that...you know what I told you the night we mated, right? That you would take over my empire?" Ludwig nodded, wiping his eyes. "What I didn't tell you is what would happen once you did so," he explained, placing his hand over Ludwig mouth just as he was about to protest. "When you become of age, and the documents are fully signed and sealed, I will disappear completely from this world, and unfortunately, there is nothing you can do or say to stop it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but know you know."

He lifted his hand slowly away, placing back on Ludwig's cheek, rubbing circles in it with his thumb. Understandably, Ludwig was mad-furious was more like it-and screaming profanities at the top of his lungs, salty tears staining his porcelain face. They weren't true words, but Gilbert could understand them anyway. He got up after Ludwig sat up, smashing everything in his reach. Bookshelves, glassware, the oil lamp on the side table all fell. The last created a small fire, but it was ignored as his rage strengthened. He felt cheated, lied to, and most of all, heart broken. Here was the creature he gave his life to, his innocence to, his trust to, and he tells him he has to disappear, without his consent?

Soon he had gone feral, and even for a twelve year old, he was strong. Fangs protruded, hair flew wildly around his face, and eyes grew to a menacing blood red. Down the stairs he went, bent on destroying everything in the mansion to ease his torment. First came the kitchen, the decorative and useless pots, pans, and glasses were torn out of the cabinets, and soon those were ripped off the wall too. Shards of glass crunched under his feet as he scrambled to the conference room where he was several minutes ago. The legs of all the chairs were ripped off, the lace tablecloth torn, and the bloodied section of the carpet chewed up. Ludwig spit it out and breathed deeply, the blood invading his senses.

He went straight back to the table, just about to lap up the spilled life that Gilbert toppled, when said vampire appeared, pulling him back. Ludwig struggled fiercely, out of anger, hatred and newfound bloodlust. He growled ferally, nails scratching at the only part of oak table he could reach, bringing it ever closer. Gilbert gave a frustrated sigh, extending his own fangs.

"Ugh, I hate it when I have to purge you" he muttered, splitting the soft skin on his mates neck. The blood from the carpet hadn't gone very far in his system, so it only took a few moments for it to resurface and reappear in his own mouth. He spit it on the floor, holding a now limp child in his arms, sapped of all energy. He planted himself on the only chair left standing.

"I...hate you...so much..." Ludwig mumbled, tumbling his head back onto his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing shallowly. His fangs retracted slowly, and soon he opened his eyes to an exasperated mate. "What?"

"I told you already you can't drink blood before the plan is carried out. You need to be pure." Gilbert stood up, Ludwig in his arms, and set back up the stairs, returning to their room.

"The plan? Is that all you can...think about?" the blonde asked exhaustedly, trying not to pass out, "I think you owe me...an apology. You lied to me dammit."

"Lied? I did nothing of the sort. I merely neglected to tell you that I would leave. After our consummation, I was rather...intoxicated by your life, it is rather strong you know, and I had a sort of hang-over the next morning. You were exhausted, but quite cute when you were sleeping. Newly changed ones often are." A glare from Ludwig made him clear his throat nervously, searching for a new tactic. "What? It's true! Anyway, I forgot, and it only occurred to me now to tell you. Granted, six years is a long time to forget-"

"You owe me" Ludwig cut him off quickly. He climbed down from Gilbert's arms once they were in his room. Once he was back under the covers, he shuffled around, giving Gilbert the cold shoulder. Gilbert smiled. All was forgiven. He leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the child's temple and walked out, stomping out the last of the fire from the spilled oil lamp.

"Guten nacht, mein Prinz"

"Master Ludwig Beilschmidt and Sir Gilbert, his Majesty Duke Alexander Christoph Jaeger and her Majesty Duchess Maria Abigail Elsa Jaeger cordially invite you to attend their masquerade ball, on the fifteenth of October, in the year of our Lord Eighteen hundred and Fifty Five at seven o'clock p.m. This ball is invitation only, please make sure you have this invitation in your possession upon arrival. White collar attire is required, and only clothing of a costume nature will be allowed. Please reply with your answer by no later than-"

The fire flared up and consumed the invitation, causing the edges to curl and blacken as they crackled. The expensive ink melted and let off fumes, overpowered by the oaken scent from the burning wood. Once it was done burning, the fire returned to its usual level, light flickering on the brass grates. Two figures stood in front of the fire, one considerably smaller than the other, but you already know who that one is.

"Really, a masquerade? Are they making it easy for us on purpose?" asked the taller. He straightened his mask. It was a tall, feathered, red and black tower, shaped like a strange monsters skull. It stuck uncomfortably to his paper skin, tugging on his stray hairs.

Ludwig ignored the comment and fixed his own beak-like atrocity, reminiscent of the face coverings doctors used to wear during the time of the Black Death. Gilbert insisted, seeing as he was there during the time, and he needed the entertainment of reminding himself of the foolish humans he encountered during the onslaught. He strode to the tall mirror on the side wall, brushing off his cream colored suit, the frills itching his wrists and arms as he stretched them out.

"Maybe they are simply asking to be taken, perhaps?" continued the albino, buttoning up the last of his buttons on his red lined tuxedo. He was ignored again. "Is something wrong, my lord?" No answer. "Nervous?"

"No, just...anxious is all" He finally got his answer, and smiled. "What if something goes wrong? What if it ends early before we can do anything?" Ludwig looked up from his spot towards Gilbert, who had moved just behind him. He put his hands on his mates shoulder's, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"Nothing will go wrong, Ludwig. We've planned this moment from the beginning, I planned it before I even changed you. I was the one who gave the Duke the idea for the party, and I casually tipped him off that you should be invited too.This is a momentous occasion, you should be happy! You will experience your first kill! Back when I was your age, it was me, in the woods, without any help. I had to find a human in a whole area of forest, and when I came back, there was no celebration, not even a word was said."

"You were born in the year 666, remember? They probably thought you were a direct descendant of Lucifer himself, seeing as you were the most ferocious of your kind." Ludwig smiled a bit, tugging on the edge of his costume nervously.

"Yes, well, that may have something to do with it, but I personally think it was that fact that there weren't so many of us at the time. They probably thought I was still human, they sent me out the day after I was turned. And there was still some hype about witches, even among our kind." Gilbert tugged on the ribbon confining Ludwig's face, leaning over him for a slow and lazy kiss. "Come, we must get going, the ball starts in a hour, and their castle is a while away."

Ludwig gave a reluctant sigh and turned to the door, stepping out into the bitter fall breeze. They got into the carriage, Ludwig running over the night's up coming events in his small head, Gilbert copying him, although looking less concerned. The horses trotted off on the gravel, whinnying occasionally, as if in warning. They couldn't get there fast enough in the youngster's opinion, but they finally arrived at the tall mansion. It was considerably smaller in stature and architecture than his own abode, but of course it was built only ten years ago. Their castle was erected in the twelfth century, and had withstood much more than elaborate get-togethers and balls.

They rode up smoothly around the tall fountain, settling finally at the front steps. Gilbert got out first, leading Ludwig up to the dark teak doors, flashing the bouncer a small grin. They entered without incident, and followed the throngs of the elite through the wide hall. Dozens of servants, butlers, and other, most likely hired for low wages, lower class people tittered around, checking their superiors supplies of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. They were being smacked in the face by waving arms or sleeves of dresses, and had to bend down to pick up the discarded food.

"Ugh, human are vile, horrendous creatures." The young wrinkled his face at the sight, not of the servants, but the indifferent higher class, treating them as if they were dirt.

"Yes, yes, you may tell me all about your opinions of them later, Ludwig. I do share your sentiments, but for now we must find the Duke, I want to show you off." Gilbert replied, sliding them both through the warm bodies, discreetly covering his nose at one woman's excessive use of perfume, which did nothing to cover up her husband's horrible body odor. The man was finally spotted near a low table, laden with cakes and other foodstuffs, of which he was filling his already mountain high plate. Both vampires gagged at the sight. They stifled it quickly as the Duke turned their way. Sidling stealthily to him, Ludwig was abandoned, watching Gilbert tap him on the shoulder and whisper discreetly in his ear.

The two adults shared a bout of raucous laughter, Gilbert's own cleverly disguised. They turned back and walked towards Ludwig, who respectfully kissed the hand offered to him, smelling the sweet, over ripe life beneath it. They made small talk for a few minutes, the boy always being ignored by his elders, Gilbert only doing it to play the part. "I can't believe such a boy as yourself is here," commented the Duke at last, his tone a high, uppity, snobbish one, as if Ludwig wasn't the boy who had successfully reached a high rank in the military, and at the age of twelve no less. Being the life partner of a well known and ferocious vampire did have its perks, including the extensive library full of tomes of military tactics and defenses.

A few minutes passed and Ludwig was still being treated like a common child. Several other nobles came over, including the duchess, the woman wearing too much perfume, and some obscure member of the royal court, who had a monocle that cracked right along the edge, and an off color tail coat that did nothing to hide his enormous backside. Each had a small mask, but they were not on, instead held in their pockets. Ludwig sighed frustratedly, resisting the urge to just get it over with and kill them all, but he had to wait. It was only when one person spoke up that he listened.

"...He is British, isn't he? His first name is Terrence." The fat man chimed in, getting obnoxiously close to the duke. "Surely you should know."

"Yes, but his surname is French, it is Rousseu. Which is he, French or English?" Replied the woman, talking snappishly.

"If you knew anything, you ignorant twits, you would know that he is both. His mother was Éléonore Rousseu and his father was Peter Westbrook." Ludwig mumbled, glaring at the so called 'educated' adults. "They met in Liverpool in eighteen ten, eloped and fled England. They couldn't stay together though, because Peter was brutally murdered in Stuttgart, leaving his pregnant wife." Gilbert looked down and smiled behind his hand, shaking with suppressed laughter. "When Terrence grew eighteen, he took his mother's maiden name, seeing as he had severe abandonment issues and despised his deceased father, who he blames for his mother's now failing health."

"Did you say something?" asked the duke.

"No. Nothing at all." he said cutely, turning on the childish charm and revealing a toothy grin, and watched as he turned back. "Nothing that you shouldn't already know, seeing as he is your top priority. Terrence is planning on invading Germany to find his 'father', who he is deluded into believing is still alive and in your royal court, and he plans on killing anyone else in the way. If you had known all of this, we wouldn't be here, frittering our time away on silly parties."

"Well since all of that is true, I think we are doing Terrence a favor. News travels like wildfire in this country and we don't want him to waste all that energy for nothing." The words tumbled off Gilbert's lips languidly, a sadistic smile curling his lips. He looked over to see the duchess eating her third piece of cake, her dress groaning invisibly under the strain. "At least he won't have to waste his time on her, it might take some time for a bullet to rip through all the fat."

The elitists looked over to them, a loud laugh catching their attention. "Have we said something amusing to you?", one of them asked, annoyed. Ludwig's soon to be frank answer was cut short, however, by the tuning of instruments, a low rumbling bass note catching their attention. He recognized it as a cello, harmonizing to the high pitched drone of a viola. Ever since he had come under Gilbert's wing, he had grown a curious love for string music. It was new, exciting, and so much more... captivating than Mister Edelstein's obsession over piano pieces.

The other guests took their respective places on the floor, waltzing slowly to the melody. The others left without a backward glance, Gilbert dragging Ludwig over to the floor. They began to dance. "Don't worry. The time is soon to come. Once the dance is over, the others will arrive. All hell will break loose, and you'll have your first kill under your belt."

"I wish I didn't have to kill the Duke, though. He is such a high standing member of society, it would be a real shame if he disappeared." A guest, dressed in long dark purple coattails, swayed in front of his vision, blocking his view of the portly man. They weaved in front of them, getting ever closer. Out of the corner of his eyes, Gilbert spotted Kuhn, standing out side of the large window a dozen feet up the wall.

They had arrived.

They danced for what seemed like hours, switching from slow waltzes, to faster tempos, each vampires eyes fixed on either the Duke, or their companions outside the walls. "Is it almost over?" came the quiet whine, and the taller laughed.

"Not yet, not until the dances are over." They kept up their motion boredly, their bloodlust becoming stronger by the second as they watched each human dance, unaware of their fate to come. Finally they had stopped moving, and they all turned to clap respectfully. The Duke and Duchess moved up the grand staircase that ran along both walls, looking over the banister at the commoners. Smugly, they received the applause, and began to ramble about how it was a pleasure to see you all again, and we hope we will be able to have this wonderful little gathering again next year, if weather permits, hahahaaa garbage. Ludwig leaned on Gilbert, fiddling with his mask, just about to lose control, take it off and attack.

"What in Vlad's name are they doing?" Gilbert hissed, and Ludwig followed his eyes. The others outside the window had become as restless as he had, if not more so. A couple were prying at the locks on the window with their claws, and soon they had burst open, vampires and demons pouring in like rain. Face to his hand, Ludwig sighed. "Idiots" he murmured, he was supposed to give the signal for them to invade.

Shouts and screams were heard, but drowned out in Ludwig's mind as he changed, eyes dilating and muscles bulging slightly. He was still a boy, so he wasn't as developed as Gilbert, whose torso had shed its cotton skin. His body had turned an ashen gray on command, and fangs lengthened, muscles tensed, snarls ripping themselves from his throat. Now that chaos reigned, they were being summoned, and they couldn't resist it's sweet song. He pushed his way through the frantic crowd, trying to get to the Duke before he escaped. His vision was blocked a few times, but eventually, he got to the base of the stairs. He practically flew up them, standing at the banister.

The sight that met him wasn't pretty. One of the lower vampires was already gnawing away on the flesh at his neck, blood pooling on the ground and dripping down the second flight of stairs. His second choice for a victim was screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs, her pearls and diamonds falling off her neck as she ran out of the building. "We have to find you someone before they all leave!" said Gilbert, scanning the crowd for any wounded prey. There, there was a man lying face down on the floor. He didn't seem to be breathing, and there were some blood spatters around his head.
He jumped down, accidentally landing on a running woman.

"So sorry my dear." He strode over to the man. It was the same one that had blocked their view of the Duke during the dances. He tipped the mans face up, looking at the mask covering his features. Odd, he looks familiar...

"I suppose he will have to do." Ludwig had come down the steps, weaving his way in between the remains of the crowd. He stooped down, wiping some of the blood off his forehead. "Is he still alive?"

"Yes, but just barely. You had better finish him before loss of blood does first."

Ludwig gulped. He was more than nervous now, frightened out of his wits was more like it. This was the most important time in his life (other than being potty trained of course), and it was finally here. He leaned down and inserted his canines into his prey's jugular. Instantly the life filled him, flowing out of pinprick hole at the back of his mouth, simultaneously filling his mind with a warm, almost heavenly sensation. Blue eyes closed as he sucked on the piercings, and it ended all too soon for him. The life was drained, and the deed was done. Carefully, he tipped the mans face to the side, peeling the mask off slowly. Everything in the world stopped when he saw.

Roderich. Roderich Edelstein. He had just killed his caretaker of more than ten years, the one who had cared for him and loved him like a father. His heart shattered, and if he was able to cry anymore, there would have been tears.

"I...I am deeply sorry", murmured Gilbert. Choked back laughter formed in his throat, but he managed to disguise it as sobs. Now his mate was fully and totally his. No one, except maybe Elizabeta, would take him, but that could be easily remedied. Ludwig was teetering on the edge, however. His veins were still coursing with blood that was not his, but he felt relieved. Now he was free. Free from the guilt of leaving without a trace, giving no warning, telling absolutely no one about his whereabouts. He stood up stiffly, tipping Roderich's head back with the tip of his boot, and turning on his heels.

"Burn the place."

"Excuse me?"

"I said burn it. Burn everything. Leave no trace that this building ever existed, and have all the bodies removed. Let the others have a feast if they wish, but bury him properly."

"As you wish, Ludwig." The elder looked around at his companions, giving a high pitched whistle. "You have one hour to purge this place of the scum that devoured our land and people! Leave no survivors! After that hour, this will be burned, and no trace will remain!"

The two left, the sounds of tearing flesh ringing throughout their ears. The sight of the flaming mansion was forever engraved in their minds, the carriage passing out of sight into the darkness and away from the unmarked burial mound on the side of the hill.