Title: Bring Him Home
Author: IndigoNight
Summary: While in the silo waiting for the sun to go down Crepsley reflects on life, war, and Darren.
Feedback: Yes please, yay reviews!
Pairing: Could be very, very vague Crepsley/Darren if you wanted, but not really.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cirque Du Freak or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun. Nor do I own the song lyrics.
Spoilers: Through 9
Warnings: Angst, song fic, implied character death
Author's Note: Reading the books now for the first time, I immediately fell head over heels in love with Crepsley. So naturally, last night when I finished book nine I lay down and cried for hours, it was extremely upsetting. So to sooth my broken heart, I've decided to immerse myself in fanfiction. The song is Bring Him Home from Les Miserables, which a absolutely adore. It's such a beautiful song, if you don't already know it you really need to go listen to it, otherwise you might not get the tone of this fic. Anyways, Read, Review, and most importantly,
Enjoy!
God on high
Hear my prayer
Crepsley lays awake in the dim silo. He knows he should be resting, preparing for that night's battle, but he's restless and the pain in his ankle is keeping him awake.
His eyes pass over the huddled form of Harkat to Darren, his assistant turned Prince. The boy was stretched out, eyes closed, but his muscles were tensed and he obviously wasn't sleeping. No doubt he was too worked up and anxious.
He is young
He's afraid
Let him rest
Heaven blessed
In the pale light Darren's face looked rounder, softer. Crepsley was forcefully reminded of just how young Darren was; something that was often easy to forget.
He felt a brief stab of regret. Darren shouldn't be here. He never should have blooded the boy. He should have lived out his days peacefully ignorant, married some nice girl like Debbie and had a handful of annoying brats to keep them busy. He shouldn't have been thrust into this world of darkness, forced to face this threat of death and shoulder responsibilities that even those far older struggled with. Fate was a cruel thing.
He's like the son I might have known
If God had granted me a son
Crepsley had never really liked children, and had never really felt the loss of his ability to have some of his own. But Darren was somehow different. It had not taken long for his association with Darren to stir something deep in his heart that he hadn't realized he was capable of feeling.
He remembered one occasion when Darren had passionately informed him that he hated him. He'd responded bluntly, "Nor am I fond of you." But he'd lied. He'd said it because he knew it was what Darren had wanted to hear though it pained him to do so.
Although he couldn't quite pinpoint the moment when Darren had stopped resenting him, once he'd realized it he'd been deeply relieved.
And I am old
And will be gone
Bring him peace
Bring him joy
He is young
He is only a boy
Although as far as vampires went he was still quite young, lately he didn't feel it. War was exhausting. Darren should never have had to experience it.
He felt heavy, worn out, and not just because it had been nearly two days since he'd slept. They'd all known the risks when they'd taken this quest on. They all knew what would happen if they failed, but they also knew that in truth only one was needed to succeed. For some time now he'd felt as though some dark cloud was hovering over him, filling him with a deep foreboding that he might not survive this war.
If I die
Let me die
Let him live
Crepsley had made his peace with death long ago. Facing death was a way of life for vampires; he wasn't afraid to die. He almost felt ready for it, although he wouldn't actively seek it; he'd lived a fulfilled life. In fact his one reservation was Darren. The boy had matured lot in the past several years, but he still had much to learn.
If his time had truly come however, he could let go. Darren would not be left alone; the other Princes and Generals would watch over him and teach him what he had yet to learn.
Darren was not meant to die young. As long as he survived this war to live the full life he deserved, Crepsley would accept whatever fate had in store for him.
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home