I've decided to henceforth declare Monday nights official novel-working-on nights (except for on Monday's when I have a test the next day, natch). No fic, no not-absolutely necessary studying, no fretting over to do lists. Just working on my book. Tonight I did some background research on the life and times of Vlad Tepes. Fun stuff! In a twisted, nightmarish sort of way.

Anyway. I also did another character study. Which just might have to make it into the manuscript at some point, but we'll just pretend that it won't so I can post it here.

Magda

The moon hung large in the sky beside the castle. The river beneath it became a swath of pure silver, stealing light from the darkening sky and running away with it to the woods in the valley below. A fitting grave for a princess, thought Magda as she stood on the south bank, waching the rapids tumble and swirl, hands reaching up to take any gift offered, be it moonlight or bathwater or the defeated life of a frightened queen.

She looked up at the castle, at the towers where she'd last seen her mistress alive. She need only close her eyes to see the princess falling, arms open to embrace her fate, gowns flowing behind her ... an angel flung herself from heaven into the welcoming arms of a watery hell. Magda wept for her Princess, as she had that night, as she had on this night every year since. Now she also wept for her Prince. News of his death had not yet reached every corner of the country, but Magda's village had learned of it three days ago. They're proudest ruler slayn in battle, and with him all hope of freedom from the Turks.

Magda knelt beside the river and said a prayer for them both, her Prince and Princess, in the hope that their souls would find one another again. Then she kissed the cross around her neck, took up the flowers in her hand, and flung them into current. She stood and watched them float downstream, just as she'd once watched her master's bride. When they floated out of sight, she turned to start the long trek back to her village.

"Magda."

Magda spun around, pulling her shawl up over her head and wrapping it tightly around her. Frightened eyes darted over the landscape but saw nothing. "Who's there?"

A mist rose around her, swirling on the ground and flowing into the great castle's shade. Then the figure of a man stepped forth, out of the shadow and into the moonlight. Magda let out a gasp and backed away.

"Magda," he said softly, his voice full of mild reproachment, "don't you know your old master?"

Magda stopped, her eyes narrowing. "Perhaps you have not yet heard, sir." She put a mocking twist on the last word. "My old master, our Prince, is dead."

"Is he?" His tone held amusement. He turned his face up to the moon, a smile playing across his lips. Magda's eyes went wide as she recognized his unmistakable profile. She stood, frozen in terror and in awe, as he made his way toward her. An arm's reach away he stopped, looked down at her, and held out his hand. The mark of the Dragon adorned his ring finger. With a cry, Magda seized it and dropped to her knees.

"My Lord!" She kissed his ring, rested her forehead against his hand. She couldn't stop trembling. "They said you fell at Bucharest. They said the Sultan took your head --"

"Mustn't believe everything you hear," he told her, petting her hair with his free hand. "Don't you know that your Prince is immortal?"

She raised her head and smiled, joy bubbling through her like the angry river.

"On your feet," he commanded, taking her hand and pulling her up. He stepped close, like a lover, and traced a finger down her cheek. "You were but a child the last I saw you."

Magda felt her cheeks burn. She ducked her head. "Yes, my Prince."

Placing a finger under her chin, he forced her head back up. "You've grown into a very beautiful woman."

"I ..."

"Magda, your family has served mine for generations. You yourself were a faithful servant to my wife and our son ..." His voice trailed off and he shut his eyes. Pain etched every line of his face. When he opened them again, his eyes burned with a strange inner light. Magda found herself unable to look away. "I have need of a servant," he told her. "Someone to keep my household. Provide ..." His eyes roamed over her body like a soft caress. Again she blushed, but she made no move to hide herself. "Companionship," he finished.

"My Lord, anything you need of me, anything you desire ... you have only to ask. I am yours if you wish it."

"Is that so?" He reached toward her breast. She isntinctively drew back, but he snatched the chain around her neck and yanked it off of her. He held it up, away from his body, letting the cross dangle between them. "No servant can serve two masters."

"But --"

"And tell me, sweet Magda, what has this one done for you? Has he kept our homeland from falling prey to heathen invaders? Did he spare your father the night our fortress was taken? Did he spare our princess? My son?"

Magda swallowed. "No, my Lord."

He reached up and traced the tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. "Even now he steals your beauty. Your strength. Your life. Minute by minute, hour by hour ..."

"But the promise of eternal life in Heaven --"

"I can give you eternal life. Eternal youth and beauty. I will protect you from the ravages of time and save you from the pain of death and suffering. Serve me and you will want for nothing, Magda. You will rule my house and help me rule my kingdom. But you must choose."

Magda did not understand what she was hearing. "Lord?"

He grabbed her hand and dropped the cross into her palm, then closed her fingers over it. "Be his good and faithful servant," he whispered in her ear, "or be my bride." He let her go and stood back.

Magda stared at him in wonder, then she opened her hand and looked down at the cross. The silver shone like the river in the moonlight, a bright, shining symbol of her faith. As her eyes drifted to the spot where the river had swallowed her Princess whole, she realized it was a faith that had broken in that instant, spilled out with her tears and left her hollow along with her father's death. Closing her eyes, she raised up her hand and flung the pendant at the river. At the sound of a splash, she opened them again and spun to face her Prince.

He smiled, and opened his arms.

She flung herself into them.