For my wonderful friend, DxH, who has remained loyally by my side through the past year or so of my writing CDF fanfictions. You rock! Love ya lots :D
Anyway...after being dormant in the CrepsSails side of CDF, I decided to write this. It's kind of like...a follow up to all my CrepsSails, but is by no means my last. Lolz. It's just my last till I'm back from Colorado.
Anyway...enjoy!
You know the drill; I do not own any of the characters mentioned, the master Darren Shan does...lalala...
Enjoy!
He meandered down one of the cave pathways, pressing his hands gingerly into the rough rock. He would be leaving, soon: off on adventures he knew not of. He would be leaving with northing more than blessings from the fellow vampires and the clothes off of his back.
With a weary sigh he cast dark golden eyes up the top of the cave. He had been living there for more than one hundred years; it was more or less a home to him now. He had been offered so many high perks, but he had refused. He wasn't sure why he had refused. He was known as one of the best Generals in all of the Mountain, yet he was letting himself be stripped of his good name to take off on adventures unknown. His fingers clenched into fists unknowingly as he lowered his arms, scowling up at the rough rock.
A small hand seemed to be pressing against his back, pressuring him to leave his safe haven. He grumbled to himself, biting a lip and wincing slightly as his teeth sank through the skin.
"Why in the name of Paris Skye am I leaving?" he mumbled under his breath, looking down at his hands. He slowly spread them out, studying the dark smooth texture of his nails. They were slightly jagged, brought down from the length they would have been if he didn't gnaw on them quite as much as he did normally. The color was a shade slightly darker than they should have been, long, very long. Past his skin, by about half an inch. If he curled his fingers into his palm too tightly, he could sometimes cut his skin so badly he would have to dribble spit onto his hands to fix the incision.
He turned around, back facing the rock, and slowly slid down it. He grimaced as his back thundered with pain: the rock cut into his back viciously, but he didn't care. His favorite red cloak was already dirty and musty enough. Apparently, Seba had a gift for him waiting. So he could 'leave the Mountain in style,' which Larten took to mean a new cloak.
Pulling his legs up to his chest in a very human gesture, he laid his head between his arms. He fought the tears that wanted to escape. He didn't want to leave, yet he did, so desperately. He wanted to just be able to have someone make his mind up for him, like it had always been when he was human. To be human again…
"You okay, Larten?" came a small voice. He looked up to see Arra Sails, the toughest vampire in the Mountain staring down at him with concern filled eyes. They were somewhat of a couple, he supposed. They had signed the contract saying that they were 'married,' but hadn't gotten it renewed after the ten years were up. He missed having her so close.
He smiled at her weakly and shrugged. "I am not sure, Arra," he said truthfully. She slowly came closer, sinking to the ground as well. She placed a head on his shoulder, begging to be embraced. He answered her pleads by wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his body.
She mumbled against his shoulder, "I don't want you to leave."
Pressing his face into her hair, he shook his head slowly. "I do not want to leave, either. But, I have to. I do not understand why, but I have to."
"Can't you stay here…with me?" Her voice was small yet again, not used to being so raw, so open. Larten flinched and hugged her tightly, wrapping his other arm around his ex lover.
Sighing, he pulled his face away from her hair and took a hand to tilt her head upwards to him. "I want you to come with me," he breathed. "But would you? Could you? Could you be naïve enough to leave Vampire Mountain?"
With saddened eyes, she shook her head. "Not naïve enough—just not brave enough."
"Do not say that," Larten shushed her. "It is pure stupidness. I am not even sure why I am not sure why I am even leaving."
She let out a hysterical giggle. "Is 'stupidness' even a word?"
A smile pressed on his lips as he rolled his eyes, letting his lips linger gently on her forehead. "For the time being, yes."
She let her head fall backwards slightly, so that his lips were hovering over hers. He leaned down, pressing them against hers. It was sweet and simple, just a kiss of goodbye, just a kiss with many broken and severed promises. She yearned to deepen the kiss, but was afraid to. If she did, she would know what she was missing out on, and she didn't want to remind herself any more than she had to what she was missing.
He pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers, fingers running through her thick black hair. "I am so sorry, Arra."
Hand falling backwards, she reached into her bag that was slung across her shoulder. "Seba…told me to give you this," she mumbled. "He says great luck…and even in death, may you be triumphant. He is too busy to see you off, and he gives you his deepest remorse."
Out of the bag came a brilliant red cloak; Larten donned it with a haphazard smile. "Not as if I can wear this on the way out," he murmured, slipping off and throwing it into his ruck sack. Arra smiled at him sadly.
"I am going to miss you, Larten."
He stood up, taking her arm and pulling her up. He wrapped his strong arms around the stronger-than-him female and tried to swallow down the rising ball of depression in his throat. "I'll be back for you," he swore. "Just wait up for me, okay?"
She nodded, trying to fight the tears as well. "Meet me in Paradise, if things do not work well for you."
Nodding, he stole her lips once again for another chaste kiss, backing away before she could even enjoy it. "I love you, Arra Sails."
"I love you, Larten Crepsley."
With a last sad wave of goodbye, he pivoted on his heel and left the Mountain, unsure of when he was going to return, or what the circumstances would be like when he finally did.
