The Darren Shan Saga is property of Darren Shan. I on the other hand am the proud owner of a cat and a lava lamp! :D

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The Bonds Between Us

Larten awoke earlier than usual, the evening torches had not yet been lit and Vampire Mountain was deafeningly silent. He sat up in his coffin, the cool air brushing his bare chest, and stared into the darkness.

So many thoughts preying on his mind like tiny insects in his brain flitting furiously through his head. The Vamapaneze war, Paris' ever-declining health, the losses of Gavner and Arra, Darren and what role he had to play in their destinies.

He felt such pity for his young Prince. He often saw behind that cheeky grin and happy-go-lucky attitude a terrible fear and loneliness. He wondered what Darren was doing at this very moment. Sleeping was unlikely. Despite all his years among vampires Darren had never fully adapted to the sleeping pattern and often awoke up long before night had fallen.

Larten could remember the beginning of Darren's reign as a vampire Prince, when blood and fire, water and wolves still plagued him in his sleep. He remembered so vividly that night, the tentative footsteps into his chamber, the soft creak of his own coffin lid as it was gently prised open.
He most remembered the voice that came through the darkness, choked with tears and embarrassment.

"Mr Crepsely? I know this is ridiculous... but ... I can't stay on my own. Please can I sleep here? Please? I can sleep on the floor, I'll sleep on the other side of the room just... I just need someone to be with... sorry... I know.. I just..."

At that moment, as the voice faded into a shamed silence, everything changed. That night his heart, so cold and hard since the death of Arra, melted as he silently took the boy in his arms and lifted him into the coffin with him. As he slowly rocked Darren to sleep, feeling every inch of his body against his, soft creamy skin against his own coarse muscles, Larten had felt himself bound.

As if melding together in the confines of his coffin Larten could feel the gentle beating of the boys heart pressed against his chest. He could feel the fear and desperation in the boy as if it were his own and suddenly he realised that he never wanted to let go.

Larten had long loved Darren like a son and now he loved him in a way that penetrated his very core. He knew that it was his duty as the one who blooded him to protect Darren, but now it went beyond any obligation. Larten wanted to hold Darren to his chest every night, just like this, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt and his small long arms stretch up and just around his neck as his breath softly brushed Larten's shoulder.

But as evening approached he knew he had no choice. He lifted the sleeping prince out of his coffin and laid him on the floor with a rolled up shirt tucked under his head and his red coat over his body.

That's the way it had to be.

Vampires gossiped like old women and Larten had no intention of being labelled as a "cradle snatcher" or some "old letch" or any other ridiculous label. He had caused enough talk bringing such a young, pretty boy to the mountain with him. Tactical meetings with other vampires had often descended into teasing riots with cries of "isn't he a little young for you?" and more irritatingly "are you up for sharing him?"

No. Larten was not up for 'sharing' Darren with any of the lecherous old vampires that leered and licked their lips while he walked past. His anger surged whenever any of them starting talking to Darren, too naive to see their advances, eagerly accepting invitations to go exploring caves around the mountains or join them for a drink, forcing him to step in and provide excuses for him.

So Larten had no choice. If he were to be seen by some foolish, young general bursting into his room with news there would be uproar. Worse still Darren would get a reputation. And in Vampire Mountain no young, fresh young vampire wants to get himself a reputation. He left Darren where he slept and when morning came acted as if nothing had happened. Darren had seemed a little put off but Larten knew he couldn't risk anyone overhearing anything about their encounter. However innocent it may have been, it would spread like wildfire embellishing and evolving with every retelling. He couldn't allow Darren to bear yet another burden.

"So here I am" he thought suddenly back to reality "sat in the exact same coffin wearing the same black sweatpants thinking the same old thoughts."

Since that night Darren had not returned to Larten's room. The old vampire sensed his embarrassment. The boy was afraid that he had disappointed Larten in showing weakness. In fact Larten's distant attitude towards him had simply been as a result of fear that the other vampires would sense something between them.

Larten both dreaded the return of those footsteps, and craved them. He wanted another night of just holding Darren, feeling bound to him by his emotions, surrounding them like ribbons looping round their bodies.

"The bonds between us" Larten thought "are too strong to be broken. But if they get any tighter they could trap us too tight."

Larten lay back and imagined those ribbons looping around him, binding him with Darren.

He could almost hear his heart beating in the darkness.

Well that was my first dip into the world of Darren Shan fanfiction. I do love Mr Crepsley :') Whyyyyyy Mr Shan? Why did you have to.. yeah spoilers haha ;)

ALSO ALSO - sequel/ another chapter? I have an idea for where this story could go but I want to know if people like the idea before I get the pen and paper out again.

Hope you all like it! Even if you think it's total piece of fail please do comment, I always love to hear feedback.. preferably not of the flamey variety, I don't like having to get my fire extinguisher out on people ;)

RIGHT *runs*