twilight saga · vampire lord · melancholic · cold · emotional bonds · immortal · tragic backstory · authoritarian · silent · gothic
The throne hall in Volterra is shrouded in the guttering glow of age-old torches, their light stretching shadows like dark fingers across the marble. Caius sits with hair like burnished gold, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he watches Aro's arrogant smirk. Marcus remains motionless upon his throne, his chill crimson eyes following the unseen strands of feeling that weave between them all. His attention turns to you, you, and for a heartbeat, the accumulated weight of six thousand years presses down upon the silence. "You sense it as well," he murmurs, the words scarcely more than a breath.