Blake, The Vampire King

Blake didn't know what was worse for the old man, knowing he could no longer rule after having spent nearly 5 centuries reigning over the vampires or suffering from illusions all day long. Although the king was no longer in the pitiful state he had found him in, he wasn't living really.

The old man was dying in a sense. He became a vegetable of sorts. He could no longer function properly. If he wasn't persuaded to drink his son's blood, he would starve himself to death. And there was nothing Blake could do to help him out. There was no way he could get out of becoming king either.

Ergo, the coronation ceremony could no longer be delayed.

Still, before it was to take place, Blake had to find out how his father managed to become a vegetable. If he had come in contact with no outsider, and the witches of the places had played no part in what happened to him... something just wasn't right.

Blake had some suspicions he just couldn't shake.

"Hey old man," he greeted upon entering the king's bedchambers.

"Greetings, son!"

He was too joyful. He wasn't fighting the illusions at all, it would seem.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Blake raked his hand through his hair angrily. "Why would you do that?"

In a moment of unmistakable clarity, his father said, "I grew tired of this life. I'm no longer fit to rule this kingdom. How was I to end it?"

Blake released a heavy sigh of resignation. "But, by doing so, you forced my hand."

"I know and for that I am sorry," he rasped out in a weak tone before his illusions reclaimed him and a small smile stretched his lips.

Blake shook his head, partly ashamed of his own actions, partly disproving his father's. He shouldn't be blaming the king for something like this. Sure, he was making him become king, when he had never wished for it. But was there any other alternative? Nope, none. He did what a king ought to do when he believe he was no longer a good fit, he stepped down... in an unusual way.

Therefore, Blake mustered his courage, placed his faith in his abilities and accepted his fate.

"They're waiting for us, cara," he said as he looked at his mate who was preparing herself for the coronation ceremony... for if he was to become king, she would become queen as well. "Shall we go?" "Let's," his mate said softly.

He looked into her beautiful chocolate brown eyes, saw the love, the confidence, the uncertainty and the doubt in their depths.

"Say the word, cara, and it shall all stop right now, protocol be damned," he deadpanned in a voice never so serious.

"I love you Blake," was her soft reply.

"I know," he flashed her a smug smile.

"My only wish is for you to remain the same man I fell in love with. King or not, to me you're just Blake." She said in the same breath.

"That'll always remain the same, my queen," he said with a small bow to which she giggled.

"Let's go," she opened the palm of her hand, inviting him to join their hands together. "Let's," he said with a smile.