Yeah I don't know why I'm beginning a new series when I have several unfinished. I was meaning to post this days ago but my laptop completely broke so I lost all my stuff, including the original of this. Very annoying.
Anyway, I think this will be a 6 or 7 part thing, all quite short chapters like this one. Hope someone's reading - and if you are, please review!
(Also thanks for your reviews on Lonely Hearts and Begin Again "Guest" - obviously I can't reply to thank you privately, but I really appreciated your comments :) Hopefully you'll read this sometime so you'll see this reply!)
This takes up somewhere in Palace of the Damned, if you've read it you'll totally remember where I mean... but I don't have the book on me right now so I can't give any specific details. Anyway...
It didn't take long for Larten to see her again. It had been impossible to get Arra really talking the first time he'd seen her with Mika hovering around them, and in the end the two of them had retired before he'd managed to ask her anything about how exactly she'd left Evanna and ended up here.
Larten liked Mika well enough, though the two had never particularly been good friends, but he'd been left with the distinct impression that Mika was quite fond of his assistant and wasn't keen on her making many new friends during Council. Mika couldn't have known that Larten hadn't even considered getting involved with another woman after Alicia and that he had no impure intentions toward Arra whatsoever. He had liked her when she'd been one of Evanna's assistants, but he knew very little else about her. He just wanted to talk to her – wanted to talk to her a lot, more than he could reasonably explain.
He had vowed to keep an eye open for her after their first encounter, and though she was easy to spot in a crowded Hall of males, she was almost never alone. Tonight she was sitting with Mika again, only a few tables away from him while he distractedly chatted to Seba.
"If you find yourself at a loose end," his old mentor was saying, noticing that Larten was no longer paying him any attention. "I would be grateful of some assistance in the run up to the Festival of the Undead. There is a lot of preparation to be done, and I am only one man."
It was Seba's first year as Quartermaster and he was right, making the necessary preparations was a monumental task. Larten wasn't really listening, though.
"Of course," he replied, watching as the dark General pushed his bowl aside as though he had finished with his meal. He swung his legs to the side, preparing to stand, and then for a few more minutes continued the conversation he was clearly having with his assistant. Larten watched with bated breath, eager to find the exact perfect time to approach her after her mentor left.
Seba scowled.
"You are willing to sacrifice all of your free time in order to assist, then?" he asked tactically. Larten was staring straight over his shoulder, craning his neck and clearly focusing entirely on something else. He was likely to say yes to anything in such a distracted state.
"Yes, Seba," he replied dully, as Mika finally stood to leave, eventually being cornered by a group of vampires before he escaped the Hall. How he found such a large amount of time to devote to chaperoning his assistant was a mystery when it seemed almost every vampire in the Mountain was eager to speak to him about the infamous Vampaneze negotiations.
"Would you like me to fetch you a bowl of bat broth, Larten?" Seba asked, as a final test, knowing that bat broth had always made his assistant sick.
"Yes, Seba," he replied predictably. For a few moments at least, she was sitting on her own. Noticing his eyes on her, she gave a nod to acknowledge him. She didn't smile, but he imagined she probably didn't very often. The nod was enough to convince him he probably wasn't unwelcome. He eagerly began the process of getting to his feet, but before he could Seba reached out to give him a pinch on the arm with his sharp nails.
"Ow!" the young General cried in surprise, looking down at the small scratch.
"You have not stopped looking once since we came in," Seba accused, unimpressed. "Leave the poor girl be."
Larten scoffed. "No, Seba, I know her. She was one of Evanna's assistants once."
"What of it?" his mentor asked. "Plenty of those who know the Lady of the Wilds might have also stumbled upon her at one point or another."
Seba was being deliberately difficult. It was clear he felt it unacceptable that all new vampiresses were hounded by almost the entire male population of the Mountain, and wished to save this newcomer the trouble of refusing another.
"She remembers me, too," Larten convinced. Seba rolled his eyes.
"Regardless of your questionable interest in the girl," the older vampire said. "You have not listened to a word I have said. You have just agreed to spend every waking moment of the coming months assisting in the preparations for Council and asked for me to fetch you a bowl of bat broth."
Larten blushed, and finally focused completely on Seba. He was a grown man now and Seba was no longer his mentor, but he still found himself fearing possible punishment for his rudeness.
"I am not going to force you to eat the broth," Seba decided mercifully. Larten had convinced himself years ago that one night he would be capable of drinking the stuff, but each and every time he tried he was sick for days afterwards. It was a distinct possibility that he was allergic to bats, however ridiculous that seemed. "I am, however, going to insist that you follow through on your promise to assist an old friend."
Larten fought the urge to reveal his disappointment. There were certainly more interesting things to do with his time in the Mountain than source large amounts of ale and get hold of enough food to sustain a few hundred vampires for possibly several months.
"I would be delighted to help," he responded appropriately, not wanting to offend Seba further.
His old master laughed out loud at the blatant lie. "You can go and speak to your friend now, if you wish," he decided, feeling that the weeks of difficult tasks Larten had ahead of him might be punishment enough.
Larten immediately sprung to his feet again, but as he looked up, she was nowhere to be found.
Seba was chuckling again. "You know her, you say?" he asked knowingly, as his past assistant sat back down in front of him, defeated.
The old vampire smiled kindly. "I would not bother, if I were you," he suggested, studying Larten intently. The young General frowned and looked back at him quizzically.
"You wish to find someone else to focus on," Seba guessed. "Because you miss your human fiancée."
It had been almost a whole night since he'd last thought of her, and Larten wasn't happy to be reminded. Seba noticed his displeasure straight away.
"When I was a young man, there was a young vampiress with whom I was rather infatuated."
Larten started to chuckle. This was a story he and Wester had never heard before, and he had a feeling it might be good. It was useless trying to explain to Seba that he really didn't have any sort of untoward plans for Arra – the old man had already made up his mind and wouldn't be convinced otherwise.
"I cannot remember her name now, but I remember that I thought she was rather fascinating at the time. Unfortunately, I misunderstood the difference between a vampiress and an ordinary human girl. I thought I could charm her easily with gifts and begin to court her. She tired of my attempts at romance one night and challenged me to a fight, which I lost. Feeling that I was weak and soft, she gave me no more chances."
Though it sounded like it must have been annoying at the time, Seba smiled at the memory of his younger days.
"You will find the same thing with this young vampiress," he said. "It will be a lot of effort for very little in the way of a reward."
Larten rolled his eyes. Seba sometimes thought he knew everything, and most of the time he was right – but just this once, he'd got it all wrong.
"She is an old friend," he clarified, even though he'd only actually met her once. "You will not see me buying her chocolates and jewellery, I assure you."
Seba raised his eyebrows and shrugged, as though he was done trying to talk him out of it. He gathered himself to his feet and slipped his legs from under the bench, ready to continue with his daily duties again.
"I do not stare at old friends of mine like that," he said knowingly, and then scurried away before Larten could continue to argue with him about it.
The General sat by himself for a few moments after that, laughing to himself at the way Seba had spoken and lamenting how difficult it seemed to be to catch the young assistant alone at almost any time of night or day. It was all perfectly innocent, he reminded himself, but he would continue to search her out again anyway. That persistence hadn't anything to do with the memory of her grey eyes when they'd first met, or how she'd looked standing in the waterfall spray a few nights ago – nothing to do it whatsoever.