The Formative Years
A Larten Crepsley De-aging Story
by asth3nia
~*~Having just arrived back at the Cirque Du Freak, Darren Shan has had enough of his mentors babying and nagging. In a rage, he wishes Larten was a teenager once more, so that he too could suffer the dreaded faith of pimples, young love and testosterone. What Darren didn't know, was that on that particular night, a red crescent moon shone and Destiny lurked on the horizon. ~*~
Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Darren Shan, nor do I own any of the characters. Any of the names, plots, themes or characters which occur in this FanFiction that are familiar belong to the author of the Darren Shan Saga - Darren O Shaughnessy . This is just a work of FanFiction.
Chapter One: The Crimson Crescent Moon
It had been a long journey. Flitting across 3 states had brought a wave of exhaustion over both vampires. The night was silent, almost deadly. A map of stars lay above the country side, twinkling brightly and nestled between an unknown constellation, lay a red crescent moon. Darren traced the outline with his eyes, gazing mesmerized at the blood red tips. Moons, alongside spiders had always fascinated him. He was amazed at how something so far away could light the darkest corners of earth. He wondered what would happen if the moon suddenly vanished, just left the view of earth and orbited another planet. His eyes flicked to the horizon, just above a hillside in the distance. A purple haze, almost like a foggy mist lurked on the horizon.
"Darren!" his mentor snapped, spinning on his heels and glaring down at him. Darren looked back perplexed. "You have been insufferably negligent this past hour."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Negligent - day dreaming, at an intolerable rate. You have trodden on the back of my heels twice since we walked over that hill." Larten snapped.
Darren glared up at him. His brown eyes met the green orbs of his mentor and he scowled. "You know, you're not as pleasant as you make yourself out to be either, Mr Crepsley. You've done nothing but snap at me for the last few miles and you've been constantly nagging me about drinking blood!"
A thin smirk cracked Larten's lips. His long fingers made their war to his coat ruffles and he tugged on them conceitedly. "Ah, now I understand. Perhaps it's the lack of blood in your system that is cause for your teenage mood swings. I've known children to be quite -"
"I'm not a child! Quite calling me that."
Darren stormed around the tall figure of Mr. Crepsley and marched across the bridge and through the Cirque entrance. He could hear the large strides of his mentor behind him and could feel his eyes on the back of his neck. Annoyance bubbled in the depths of his stomach. He was sick of hearing about blood, vampires and teenagers. Mr. Crepsley used that excuse every time, teenagers this, teenagers that. Darren clenched his fingers. He wasn't concerned about the looks he received from the other Cirque members. He preferred they knew of his annoyance and secretly, he hoped someone would ask him why he was now muttering angrily to himself, that way he'd let them all know about Mr. Crepsley.
"You're the insufferable one!" he snapped, ripping the door to his and Evra's tent open and slamming it in Larten's face.
He flopped onto his bed and rolled over to face the window. From there he could see the red figure of Larten striding across the camp, and into his own tent. Darren closed his eyes. He was tired and his legs were sore. Despite being carried on Mr. Crepsley's back while flitting, his muscles were still sore having been tensed for so long on the vampires hips. Things had been on edge between himself and Mr. Crepsley the past few days. They had just returned from a journey to meet an old friend of Larten's; Gavner Purl, from what Darren can remember. He was a nice vampire, very cheery, he even offered Darren a pint of larger. He would have accepted to if it weren't for Mr. Crepsley forbidding it.
Scowling again he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Loneliness, Mr. Crepsley had said, would be a trait of the future and with time Darren would adapt, he would learn to treasure the moments. But now more than ever, Darren felt that loneliness was becoming a fear and it was quickly growing in strength. Despite having the company of Mr. Crepsley, he couldn't adapt. He was angry, frustrated and more than anything, scared. Scared of the future, scared of the present, scared of everyone and everything. He missed friends, fun, family. He missed normality. Staring up at the coloured ceiling, his eyes grew heavy and he yawned.
0
Larten downed a tumbler of blood in one quick swig. Smacking his lips, he gasped happily and leaned back into the couch of pillows. Stretching, he wrapped an arm around Madame Truskas shoulders. She moved away.
"What's the matter?" he asked, in a deep voice. His ginger curls flopped in front of his eyes, casting a shadow over his eyes.
"The way you treated Darren," Madame Truska replied, moving to the edge of the couch. "Larten he is just a boy! How could you be so insensitive?"
"Vampires aren't sensitive, we do not thrive on emotions. The sooner Darren realises that, the easier things will be for him. Do you know he spent the last two days sulking on my back? It was like carrying a growth, very unpleasant."
Madame Truska scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Larten think back to when you were a boy. Remember how awkward it was. He is just being a normal teenager boy."
Larten scowled, pushing himself up from the couch. "That is exactly it!" he snapped. "He is not a normal boy. He is a vampire."
"Half-vampire."
"Half insane. Truska, darling, I am 170 years old. My teenage years ended 150 years ago, in an era where patience and tolerance were placed at the end of the scale of importance."
Madam Truskas turned her back on him. "Go speak with him Larten."
"I'm not babying him."
"You treat him like a baby, why not live up to it!"
Larten sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had only been awake for 4 and a half hours and already, he could feel a migraine developing. It was rare he suffered migraines, but they were becoming more frequent the past few weeks. Between the tension with Darren, the stress of avoiding Mr. Tiny and now having Truska down his throat, he felt like crawling back into his coffin was a far better idea.
"I will speak with Darren."
"When?" Truska demanded crossing her arms and turning to face him.
Larten smiled, raising his eyebrows. "Tomorrow."
"Now."
"Tomorrow."
"Larten."
"Now."
He turned round and swept out of the tent, his crimson coat cracking the air as he turned. Crossing the camp, he nodded courteously to the other members, smiling politely, like Larten Crepsley does when making an impression. He paused outside the tent and cleared his throat.
"Darren." he called. There was no reply. "Darren!"
Pushing the door open, he barged into the room, banging the door loudly against the tents support poles. Darren grunted from the bed and leapt out of it. He stared toward Larten, gasping loudly.
"Mr. Crepsley?"
"We're talking. Sit." he commanded, pointing to the bed.
Darren sat. He stared up at Mr. Crepsley. The Vampires face was twisted into a mixture of annoyance and frustration. Darren frowned.
"As of late, things between us have been rigid. It should not be that way, Darren. I am your teacher and you are my student. It is my responsibility to care for you and ensure you receive as much experience as possible. I cannot do that when you refuse to accept it."
"I refuse? You constantly nag me! I don't refuse anything Crepsley, I go along with all your schemes. You put me through a crazy amount of hours hitting trees and running into walls. I'm trying and you don't recognise it!"
"Darren Shan I blooded you because you had potential!" Larten snapped, banging his fists against a table. "I did not blood you for pleasure, power or my own personal profit. You didn't just accidentally fall into my arms boy, everyone has a destiny. You are mine."
Darren growled. "You're impossible! It's always about you. Why don't you ever consider anyone else?"
Larten grabbed Darren by the shoulders and stared hard into his eyes. "Listen to me boy-"
"I hate you." Darren hissed, snarling lightly and baring his teeth. "I hate you and everything about you and I just wish you could understand what its like to be like me!"
Welcome to chapter one of The Formative Years - A Larten Crepsley De-aging story. I hope you subscribe and review and come back for more. Let me know what you think. See you all in Chapter Two.
- asth3nia
