2. The New Born
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, but I'll be sure to let you know when they are.
A/N: I think I'm going entirely Zexen Knight happy. So after this, expect to hear from them. As for this chapter, I had a good time writing it. The more I went into it, the more I found myself making Sierra quote my grandmother practically every time she spoke. Which I actually find pretty amusing, that fact that my interpretation of the vampire Sierra is of a Polish Grandma. Neat-o.
Characters: Nash, Sierra
"When you've seen too much too young, "soulless" is everywhere."
"The New Born" by Muse
She was the first thing he saw as he opened the door to his tiny room in Budehuc. The one window he did have was graced with her figure. Her body tensed still as if no movement could possibly exist. She leaned her back against the side of the open window, with one leg propped against the opposite side, and one leg dangling freely in the breeze outside. Her cloak and shoes lay tossed to the floor, and a simple short sleeved peach colored dress remained on her body, almost giving an illusion of a sweet, innocent, young maiden.
Sierra Mikain was none of these. That, he knew. Closing the door behind him, he began his nightly routine by slowly unraveling the scarf around his neck. "How nice of you to come by, my dear." He said with a smirk, "After you were caught last time by the Alma Kinan girl, I'd expected you to, well you know, improve yourself a little before coming back here again." His own comment caused him to chuckle a little as he slipped off his tunic and rummaged through a drawer.
For the first time since he entered, she moved. "Thank you for that remark," She said bitterly as she relieved herself from her perch on the window, "It was terribly amusing."
He smiled. Her comment was obviously sarcastic, but the truth was, he was terribly amusing to her, and he knew it.
"So you're here to say goodbye, I suppose? Until ... several more days when I get back maybe?" He asked casually, as he turned to face her approaching figure.
She smiled back at him, though her smile was nothing like his cheerful one. "That is, if you're even alive tomorrow night." She cackled.
"That's true," He replied thoughtfully. Any other person would've have been chilled by her blunt words, but to Nash, they said something different, something uninterpretable by any other person. He leaned against a crooked bedpost, making it groan slightly. "What would you do about that, Mrs. Clovis?"
A breeze carried its faint weight in through the window behind Sierra, making her dress and lengthy hair seem to float for several moments, before settling back down. "I suppose I'd stay here for a while. I've seen plenty of men around here that I suppose would suit me for a night or two, what do you think?" She said softly, sitting down on the bed beside the bedpost where he stood.
"I suppose I shall run off with Chris Lightfellow, then." He replied, teasing her back. Sierra lay back on the bed and laughed dryly. "I should think such a woman would know better than to waste her time in such a way." Her eyes met his for the first time that night, and for a moment, he could've sworn he saw a trace of fear in her eyes. Not the paranoia of infidelity, (that most likely any other woman would experience at that remark), but the fear of change. The kind of change that happens when one loses something they hold close, perhaps too close. She sat up. "That would make her a fool." She finished slowly, her own eyes burning into his own.
"I suppose it would." He said, still smirking as he broke their gaze, crossing the room to a bowl of water that had been brought up earlier. Years of bitter teasing from Sierra had given him an understanding of time. He realized this as his proceeded to lift water to his face. And it had given her hope, whether she realized it or not. He continued washing he face several more times before reaching for a nearby towel.
"Listen to me, boy." Her voice was firm and commanding, though pain existed in it, it was not evident to the human ear. "As much as I wouldn't mind to rid myself of you, you must stay alive tomorrow. I've gone through even trouble to keep you here as it is."
He understood.
"Until then." She stated. He made his way, arms crossed to where she now stood, before the open breezy window. "And perhaps, perhaps you could do something with yourself as well. You look terrible." She added thoughtfully.
His left arm leaned against the top of the window frame, holding his leaning body inside. He positioned his forehead directly above hers. Closing his eyes gingerly, he inhaled. "I shall see you then, Mrs. Clovis." Leaning his neck downwards, he quickly realized that his lips were not meeting hers as they usually would. His eyes opened yet again to the sight of the starlit night sky before him.
"Old hag..." His thoughts replied.
Releasing himself from his leaning position on the window, he stood back and sighed with his hands running through his hair. "You left your stuff here," He said to the sky, yawning.
Before laying back onto the bed, he proceeded to close the window. Few things thoroughly irritated Nash, but that breeze was getting annoying, and tomorrow was going to be a long day.