Late April, 2000
Alice wasn't a vampire. She'd trained her body for years, but even so, she was a mere human.
But none of that mattered now. When it came down to it, one did what needed to be done.
Especially for someone you—
Debbie was still conscious. Good, Alice thought, letting that relief become energy as she carried the other human through the snow, through terrain that wasn't meant to be crossed by creatures of the sun.
The way station couldn't be far.
She told herself that, over and over again, regardless of whether or not she believed it. Darren's map was in her pocket, but she couldn't reach for it to check. If she put Debbie down, she might—
So Alice kept moving.
All the while she knew what Debbie was thinking.
If only Darren had come. She'd never said it, but Alice knew — and at the same time, Alice understood why he couldn't come with them. She wondered where he was now, and if somewhere, even right this moment, he was doing just as she was, walking through an unkind terrain, carrying the person who meant more to him than anyone else.
He's where he needs to be, Alice thought. Just as I am.
Could she tell Debbie that? How, without revealing her own—
The way station—
It came in to view ahead, suddenly — or had she just not noticed it before, through the snow?
Once inside, once they were safe, she put Debbie down and made a fire. As her senses started to return, Alice handed her something warm to drink from the fire, made from melted snow and whatever edible herbs she could forage. Debbie drank it down as she recovered.
They would stay there as long as they needed to, Alice decided.
It was still a while before Debbie recovered enough to speak.
"You saved me."
That was the first thing she said.
Alice shrugged, not looking at her. "It's what I do."
Debbie shook her head. "No, not— it's not just that." A moment passed. "You…"
Alice was sitting close to her. They needed each other for warmth. Close, but not too close. Not…
But in this moment, to Alice's surprise, it was Debbie who closed the gap. Suddenly, she had turned herself over so that she was on top of Alice, close, closer, before Alice could react—
When their lips met, Alice realized she had nothing to worry about. Debbie knew her feelings — all along even, perhaps, — and now she — was it just because Alice had saved her? No— more than that—
Debbie broke the kiss, pulling back just a bit to catch her breath.
Alice, blushing, gaped at her.
"B-but— Darren—"
Debbie smiled. "Darren can kiss Harkat for all I care," she said, lifting her fingers to Alice's cheek, and continuing where they'd left.
June 2000
When Harkat woke up late that afternoon, his body felt strange, and it took a moment for the memory, the realization, to fully hit him — it wasn't a dream… he really was whole again… restored.
It was almost evening — their trailer had the necessary blackout curtains, but he could see the time lit up on the digital clock. It must have been sunset already. He grabbed the flashlight from the bag next to his hammock, and smiled as he switched it on. These sorts of things were so much easier to use with human-sized fingers.
He looked down at his hand, those slender, lovely, elegant fingers, and though he was happy, he was also uneasy — this can't be my hand. That strange feeling was back again, that alienation, that unfamiliarity with his own body — and yet, he also had all of his old memories, the memories of the 120-odd years he had lived in this body, echoes that told him, yes, this was right, this was his.
No, wait, he reminded himself. Those memories aren't mine. They're mine, but that wasn't me, that was—
He frowned. But what did that really mean? It had to mean something, didn't it? It had to be…
He sighed, and turned to the mirror, and the cup of grooming tools that Truska had given him last night. He pulled out a brush, and as untied his hair and brought it over his shoulders to brush it, he thought about his meeting with her last night. She had been overjoyed to see him. He and Hibernius had explained what had happened, that this was Harkat, not Kurda — that he was actually still Harkat on the inside, but that before, he had been Kurda. That he wasn't Kurda anymore. She'd understood, but did she accept it? Did Hibernius, for that matter? And would others?
Would the vampires? That was what he truly worried about. There were plenty of vampires who had ties with the Cirque, and any of them might stop in at any time, to visit any of the members.
He ran his fingers through his hair, admiring the honey-golden shade even in the low light of the battery torch. But… was this really safe? Shouldn't he dye it, or do something to disguise himself? He considered… it was a very unique shade, rich and bright, easily recognized. Even if he dyed it, he wouldn't lose it forever. It would still grow back that shade, once it was safe — assuming it would ever be safe!
But no… dying his hair wouldn't do that much to protect him. And besides… he wanted to enjoy his looks, at least for a little. He looked at his reflection in the trailer's small mirror, and smiled. It was such a strange feeling, being beautiful. Strange… dreamlike.
And maybe, living with this body, this reflection… it might help him understand.
He turned to the three jackets, all blue, that Truska had selected for him, choosing one to wear tonight. A part of him — the Kurda part — wanted to go for the most flamboyant of them, but he restrained himself — it was too soon for that. He chose the simplest of them, and wore it over a plain white shirt, brown pants, and gladiator-style leather sandals that strapped over the bottoms of the pants.
He had just finished tying his hair back with a simple blue cord when he heard Darren waking up behind him. He thought to greet him, but stopped — Darren had a habit of forgetting the previous night at first when he woke up. Would he be surprised to see…
Harkat took a deep breath, and decided to risk it.
"Good evening, Darren," he said softly.
At the sound of his voice, Darren snapped up, blinking, startled — then he smiled.
"Right… Harkat."
"Of course," Harkat smiled. "Who else?"
Darren's smile widened as he gazed at Harkat for a few seconds, then he caught himself. "Ah— good evening…" he fidgeted awkwardly, looking down and away from his friend as he stood up from his hammock.
He wore only a loose t-shirt and dark underwear. Even though he was just waking up, his posture and bearing were that of a well-trained warrior — he was always so strong and graceful, despite how silly he could sometimes be. Walking lightly on his long, elegant legs, he made his way from his hammock to their water basin to wash up.
Harkat looked down, clearing his throat. "I'm… going to go out for a walk," he said, and Darren turned to look at him just as he did. "Just to get some air," he explained before Darren could protest. "You stay here and get dressed… we'll meet with Hibernius in about an hour, alright?" He pulled up the hood of his jacket, and tucked his long ponytail inside of it.
He looked back at Darren, and noticed the other vampire looking at him. Darren caught himself and averted his eyes, throwing an awkward look around the trailer. "It's just, I mean… it's weird to hear you call Mr. Tall by his first name like that, that's all…" he finally said.
Harkat blinked. "Is it?" It wasn't until then that he realized that as Harkat, he had never… "I always used to… that is, before, at least." Before… "A-anyway, just get dressed. We can talk later." With that, he hurried out.
Of course, this was all as difficult for Darren as it was for him. And he was avoiding the topic, he realized — and avoiding Darren.
He sighed. They'd have to talk about it later, at their meeting. He would let Darren have a bit of time alone, to sort out his thoughts… and if he let Darren have that time, that would let him have the same. He needed it too.
———
Harkat arrived exactly at 8:00. He knew Darren would already be inside — for all his clumsiness in other respects, the Prince was never late. He entered Hibernius' trailer and took a seat on the sofa opposite where Darren sat, putting the blue canvas backpack he carried on the floor at his feet.
He nodded at the circus owner, who sat behind the large desk at the far end of the trailer, then he looked around the room, casting only a furtive glance at Darren — and he realized that Darren was similarly avoiding looking at him.
Fear won't do us any good. He knew that, but…
"Good evening, Darren… Harkat," Hibernius said. The former Little Person didn't fail to notice the emphasis on his name. Hibernius nodded at each of them in turn, and they returned the greeting. "I'm sure the two of you experienced many interesting things in the course of your mission," he said, and fell silent. His request for them to fill that silence was unspoken but clear.
Harkat and Darren started to speak at the same time, but both stopped when they heard each other. They turned to look at each other, and Harkat saw the expression on Darren's face — nervous, almost shy, a look that he wasn't used to seeing from the Prince.
Darren didn't say anything.
"You first," Harkat offered.
Darren blinked, as if he wanted to pass it back, but then he nodded, and began. "Well, first, there was the panther…"
And just like that, he was off, telling Hibernius all about the various things they'd encountered. At first, Harkat aimed to keep silent, to let Darren talk without forcing him to remember the outcome of their journey, but the more he found himself contributing, the more he realized it was better that he did. In this unstoppable flow of conversation, when Darren was too occupied with the story he was telling to worry about Harkat's appearance, they both would have an opportunity to get used to the change — or at least, Harkat hoped so.
Yet there were times, moments when Darren would catch in the strange and awesome truth of it all, when pure wonder would cause him to just stop and stare at Harkat. When that happened, Harkat would gently prod him to go on, reminding him of the next part of their adventure, and Darren would snap out of it, eager to relay the next part of the story. Truth be told, he did it as much for himself as for Darren — or, even more so for himself — he was feeling the same disorienting sense of wonder as Darren.
At last, they reached the point in the story where Darren distracted the dragons while Harkat fished for his soul. Having told all he could, Darren trailed off, and fell silent, and both he and the magician looked to Harkat to finish.
"I… don't know how to explain it. That feeling of knowing, of recognizing myself. Of seeing this person who I had known…" who I had admired so much more than I ever admitted… "and — to remember…"
He looked down at his hands, flexed them. He still couldn't believe they were really his.
After a moment — he wasn't aware of how long — Hibernius brought him out of his thoughts.
"What will you do now?"
Harkat looked up sharply. The ancient magician's voice was soft as he spoke, but even so, as he sat there calmly behind his desk of dark wood, Harkat could feel the weight of the question.
It seemed as if Hibernius looked neither at Harkat nor at Darren, but neither did he look away from them. His deep, black eyes seemed to take them both in, comprehensively, not so much neutral as all-embracing.
Perhaps, Harkat realized, that was part of his power.
Without hesitation, Harkat looked to Darren, only to find again that same nervousness on the face of the other vampire.
And yet, it wasn't Harkat's decision to make.
"It should be your decision, Sire," Harkat said softly. Darren flinched at the formal styling, Harkat knew he would, but it had to be said.
"Don't… don't call me that," Darren half mumbled. "You never… I can't… not from you…"
"Why not?" Harkat asked — he tried to ask it softly, to clam Darren, but he hadn't intended to make his voice sound quite so sweet. When he realized how that came out, he wasn't surprised that Darren didn't look at him.
"You're… you're my friend," the Prince replied, still looking at the floor. "You've always been…"
"And I always will be. But I'm also a vampire, and as such, I obey my Princes."
"And as a Prince, I know when to take advice from my friends," Darren countered. Now, he looked up. "Especially when it's about things that concern them more than me."
Harkat relented, with a smile. "Well, I think there's one thing we can both agree on — it'd be best to stay hidden for a while longer, wouldn't it? As happy as I am to be in this body again, it would raise more problems than it solves, wouldn't it?"
It wasn't yet the right time — he had to sort these things out for himself first — but eventually, they'd have to talk about it with the other Princes, the Generals, the entire clan. Would the vampires demand that he be executed again? And if they did, what would Darren do? Would it be right to defend him?
Hibernius nodded at his decision. "That is probably for the best. Darren?"
Darren stayed silent a moment before responding. "We were away for about three months, weren't we?"
Hibernius nodded. "Time has been the same for us as it has for you."
"Have you heard any news about the War of the Scars?" Darren asked.
"None."
Darren leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "I hope Debbie and Alice were able to reach Vampire Mountain safely," he muttered, and Harkat was hit, just as Darren was, by the realization of how little they'd stopped to think about the concerns of the war they'd left behind in their world —
— or in their…
He looked down instinctively at the bag at his feet. He wanted to tell Darren about the postcards, but he felt — he wasn't sure why — that it would be better to discuss them alone, and not in front of Hibernius, whatever the ancient magician's position was.
"I wouldn't trouble myself if I were you," Hibernius said, responding to the worries of both vampires. "This is where the two of you are meant to be right now. The War of Scars will find you again when destiny decrees."
When Des Tiny— Harkat felt a sharp burst of anger, of defiance, at the mention of— but at the same time, this reaction, this feeling scared him. It scared him because it was a feeling so strange, unfamiliar, …and yet also familiar.
It was Kurda's feeling.
And it was the same hatred of Tiny, and the same desire to break free from his influence, that Harkat recognized from Vancha.
Suddenly, his mind was filled with memories, long nights under the stars, alone with the wild Prince, through so many decades, in so many places around the world, discussing philosophy, fate, and more than anything, what it would mean to break free from the influence of that cruel meddler, that frighteningly powerful being who defined so many boundaries for all creatures of the night… and whether or not such freedom could even be truly possible.
"For the time being," Hibernius continued, breaking Kurda out of his thoughts, "relax." He paused for a moment, then, slowly, lowered his hand and tapped a finger against an item on his desk — some kind of bottle, one of a set of five or six there, and as he did, a tone echoed from it, and filled the room. He tapped a second one, and another tone joined the first. The sound was smooth, calming. "Relax, and enjoy this calm between storms."
Neither vampire responded at first. Eventually, after the singing of the bottles had faded, it was Darren who broke the silence.
"There's just… so much I want to know, though," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "Mr. Tall, do you…" he trailed off, before finding his words and continuing. "Do you know what that place was, through the portal?"
Hibernius waited a moment before responding.
"You will know… in time. For now," he said, turning to Harkat. "I believe you have a rather more pressing concern — even if you do not rejoin you clan in their war for the time being, will you take further steps to conceal your identity?"
Harkat didn't fail to notice that Hibernius had changed the subject, but he thought it wiser not to mention it.
"I don't want to alter my appearance to hide," he said, looking to Darren and hoping for the Prince's approval. "At least, I want to come to terms with… with my past… with myself… before I change anything. I don't want to do anything that would allow me to hide from the truth, even a little."
"But you have nothing to hide from!" The words burst suddenly from Darren, and Harkat looked up to see his friend standing, suddenly full of energy. "You've atoned for your crimes — you've more than atoned, you've—"
Harkat smiled softly at him. "That's not it…" How should he put it? "It's just a lot to process. It's not bad — it's not all good or bad, it's a big mix of everything, it's…" he shook his head. Darren still gazed at him, a look of wonder on his face.
"In any case," Hibernius said, standing from his desk, "I have business to attend to, and I believe you have things you would rather not discuss around one who is not a vampire. I will leave you with the issue of what to tell, and to whom. I will not tell anyone even so much as that you have returned."
"Thanks," Darren said, and Hibernius waved a hand as if to say not to worry about it. With that, he exited the office trailer, leaving the two vampires alone inside.
They both sat silently for a moment.
It was Harkat who spoke first this time.
"Did you… did you bring anything back with you from that place through the portal?"
Harkat asked.
"Huh? No…" Darren thought about it for a moment. "Just the clothes I was wearing, and they were so torn and filthy I just threw them straight into the fire last night."
Harkat smiled, and knelt to sit on the floor, gesturing for Darren to do the same, opposite him. Harkat placed the bag he had brought between them. He took out the contents of the bag and placed everything on the floor between them — the blue robes he had worn as a Little Person. From within their many hidden pockets, he revealed the panthers' teeth, and the postcards he had taken from the kitchen beyond the portal.
First, he spread the panther's teeth on the wood floor between them, and started to arrange them, starting with "K", then "U"…
Darren quickly realized what he was doing. "Your names are an anagram!"
Harkat nodded down at them, grimacing as he set the final "T" in its place. "I doubt we could
have skipped the rest of the journey if we'd realized it then, but…"
"Not only that," Darren said, shaking his head slightly, "The map on the panther's skin… I don't know why, but it reminded me of the ones you used to make — I mean, I don't know anything about maps, I'm sure half the ones I've ever really looked at were yours."
Harkat nodded, remembering how even after Kurda was executed as a traitor, and his very name declared taboo in the halls of the mountain he'd so loved, the Vampire Princes and Generals had continued to use his maps — indeed, they'd made more use of them after his execution than when he had lived. There weren't just maps of Vampire Mountain, but also of other places around the world that are difficult for humans to access, but perfect for vampires.
"I'm glad they could be of use," Harkat said. "I wouldn't — I mean, he wouldn't…" he sighed. "You should use them. They're meant to be used."
"There was also…" Darren started. "I mean, there's no way Tiny could have planned it that way, but when it panther scratched your face, it… well…"
Harkat smiled, and instinctively brushed his fingers over the scars on his cheek, and then back, pushing his hair behind his ear, as if to conceal the gesture. As soon as he did it, he and Darren looked at each other, and it dawned on them both at the same time.
"That gesture —" Darren said. Harkat nodded, understanding exactly — he'd done the same thing all along, in his other body.
Darren laughed. "And all that time, I thought you were just making sure your head stayed stitched together right!"
"Very funny," Harkat responded with a sigh. "But yes, it's things like that," he continued, trying to find the words. "These little… vague shadows of my past, that lingered even though I wasn't aware that that was what they were. It's almost as if I never knew myself until yesterday — no, that's …" He took a deep breath, as he realized. "That's exactly what it is. But at the same time, even though I always knew that I didn't know who I really was, I'd gotten so used to not knowing that I'd… I'd almost stopped feeling like anything was missing…"
He shook his head, and leaned back against the base of the sofa, smiling. "And in that time, I was able to make myself… myself. That is, I developed a new self, regardless of who I was before. That's…" He looked at Darren. "That's why I want you to still call me Harkat. I'm… I'm still the Harkat you knew. I'm still your Harkat."
Darren looked at him, wide-eyed, and Harkat realized how serious his expression was. He blinked, and shifted backwards. "That is…"
But then, his Prince smiled, almost with a slight laugh.
"I mean it," Harkat continued, relaxing. "Kurda was a long time ago for me. A very long time ago— I was in the Lake of Souls for thousands of years before I was taken out to become Harkat."
His heart still trembled a bit, and Darren seemed to shift a bit. Had he made things awkward? But then the thought of time travel reminded him — the postcards.
"Ah!" Jumping on the chance to change the subject, he reached out and picked up the stack of cards. "I wasn't sure if I should mention this, but now I think it's probably important that I do."
Darren blinked. "Oh, those," he said, jarred by the abrupt change in subject. "I could tell they were bothering you, but… why?"
"It has to do with where we were… or rather, when."
Darren tilted his head to the side. "You think that portal took us into the past?"
"No," Harkat replied. "The other way."
"What? But…" Frowning, Darren took the postcards that Harkat held out to him. "That date — it's—"
"Yes. The others, too." He looked up at Darren, and what he saw surprised him.
He'd expected surprise, but not like this. Darren seemed frozen, his shaking hands barely holding the worn and withered postcards.
"Darren?" Harkat leaned over and placed a hand on Darren's arm, attempting to calm him. "Darren? What's wrong?"
After a second, Darren seemed to make himself snap out of it. "Ah- it's nothing." He put the postcards down, pushing them away to the side. He leaned back against the base of the sofa, needing its solidity.
Harkat blinked at him. He looked like he wanted to talk about it. Harkat waited another moment, to see if Darren would say anything further, before he finally spoke. "It… doesn't seem like nothing to me," he said softly.
"No, it's…" Darren started. Why was he hesitating? "It's just a weird dream I had. That's all."
"That's not nothing," Harkat said. "Dreams can be important. Vancha believes they can, anyway. And my dreams — well, now we know where all those visions came from." What will Vancha do when he hears about that? About a lot of things…
Vancha…
He brought himself back to the conversation at hand. "Darren, if your dreams are anything like that future, then perhaps…" He moved closer, turning to sit by Darren's side. "Perhaps you should tell…" He trailed off. Tell someone? … tell me?
Finally, Darren spoke. "Do you think it all depends on the War of the Scars?"
Harkat blinked, then thought about it for a moment, taking a deep breath. "That… well. It might be what we're meant to believe, but how could it? Vampires and vampaneze aren't the only powerful beings in the world. There are others, so many other forms of supernatural beings that could easily put an end to anything vampires might do. Even humans, with the technology they have nowadays."
"But our war is spilling over into the human world," Darren reminded him. "Isn't that future just like what Alice and Debbie feared would happen if the Vampets came to power? If they took over human countries, and used nuclear weapons…" Darren shook his head. "Harkat, was it… was it wrong to let them bring even more humans into it?"
"I don't think so…" Harkat responded. "It can't just be that…" he trailed off.
Reasonably, yes, it couldn't just be that, but… there was more to this, he realized. The pieces didn't fit. There must be some missing piece. Something they didn't yet know.
A memory from his previous life echoed through his mind — Glalda and Raven, bringing him what news they'd heard of the human designated to become their Lord, and his first orders, and the tone shift that had occurred amongst the vampaneze since that human had been found. It didn't fit — why would an uninvolved human suddenly be so vicious against the vampires, and yet have such blatant disregard for the ways of the vampaneze? Now that he'd met Steve for himself, and learned of his past with Darren and Larten, and that for him, it was all about revenge, some things had slotted into place, but it still seemed… his mind spun with memories, information that needed to be pieced together, connections he'd made in one life, information he'd heard in the other—
Suddenly, he snapped out of his thoughts and looked up, only to find Darren gazing at him with that same strange expression on his face. That expression that Harkat still couldn't quite read — what was Darren thinking?
He almost looked like he was about to cry, but Harkat couldn't tell from what — pain? Sadness?
"Darren?"
The Prince blinked himself out of his clouded thoughts. He fumbled for a second, then he took a deep breath, and gazed, soft but unwavering, at the other vampire.
"You promised you wouldn't leave me," Darren said, his voice almost a whisper. "And you didn't."
Harkat blinked. "I… I said that? When…"
Darren blinked, and shyly fell back into his shoulders, but didn't waver.
"When we were… back then, eight years ago, when you were helping me escape."
"Darren…" Harkat said, touching his arm to comfort him.
"I'm sorry…"
"What? Darren… You have nothing to apologize for."
"How can you say that?" Darren's voice was suddenly louder. "I ruined your plans— I got you killed!"
"What else could you have done?"
Darren's breath caught in his throat when he heard that.
"I mean it," Harkat said. "You have nothing to apologize for."
His eyes caught Darren's, and they stayed there, just like that, a gentle calm flowing between them, echoing between them.
Darren leaned closer, and Harkat could feel his breath, soft and gentle.
"Kurda…"
At that name, Harkat blinked back. He was an arms length away before he'd even realized he'd moved. Darren, too was surprised, leaning forward over what was now just an empty place on the floor. Flustered for a moment, he quickly regained himself.
Harkat brushed the tension away with a smile, and raised himself from the floor to sit back up on the seat of the sofa across from Darren.
"A-anyway," he started, desperate to return the conversation to something light, something clean. Something easy. "Anyway, if I hadn't died, I wouldn't have been able to travel with you as Harkat. Another vampire can't help you hunt for Steve, remember?"
"Oh, right," Darren said. He also stood up off the floor and moved onto the sofa, staying across from Harkat. "What does that mean for you now, though? Are you… a vampire now, as far as the prophecy goes?"
Harkat sighed. "To be honest, I don't care."
"What?"
"Are we going to go on trusting Tiny's prophecies like that? Following his orders?"
Darren opened his mouth as if to protest, to ask what else they were supposed to do, but stopped himself. "Following orders… Is that what we've been doing all this time?"
And Harkat himself let his own words sink in as well, the words of one side of himself to another. It was true, there might be another way. But how could they even begin to…
"Hey…" Darren said, and Harkat could tell he was changing the subject. Darren had something on his mind, and Harkat listened. "Stand up for a minute," he finished.
Harkat blinked. "W-why…?"
"I just need to see something." He said. He suddenly sounded serious — half serious, at least. "I-it's an order."
Harkat smiled at that — it couldn't be that bad if Darren would joke like that, and Harkat knew that he must have been joking. "As you request, Sire," Harkat said, standing.
Just as he did, Darren stood as well, and came right up to him. Close… even closer than they had been before. He brought his face right up to Harkat's, coming so close that they could feel each other's warm breath. Before Harkat realized he should pull away again, Darren gave him a look that locked him in place. The Prince raised his hand, put it just on top of his own head, and ran it forward, to where it just touched the top of Harkat's head.
"You…" he said, stepping back a bit, but not far enough — Harkat could still feel his breath as he spoke. "You're taller than me!"
Harkat blinked. "Am I?" He laughed. "If I am, it's less than a centimeter — and when the Purge hits you again, you'll probably be taller still. And besides…" he lifted his hand to Darren's head and petted him, stepping back as he did so. "The way your hair sticks up, it more than makes up the difference."
Darren laughed. His laugh was sweet, clear, so charming. It was true, they were the same height now, and his emerald green eyes were level with Harkat's blue ones, making it all too easy for the two to lock onto each other, and…
No, not—
Harkat caught himself, but just as he did, Darren moved in, closing the space between them, tilting his head…
Their lips met, and Harkat melted.
He didn't resist, but neither did he respond. For the moment, he simply accepted. The way his hands felt, holding him, his gentleness, his taste, everything he had ever dreamed…
——
A lightning bolt of a thought broke through the sensation, and he stepped back from Darren. And Darren, too, seemed to suddenly wake up from a dream, as if his mind had been dazed and out of control — as if he had acted less from consideration than from impulse. Both of them had…
"Please…" Harkat finally managed to say. "N… Not now." He took long, slow breaths, trying to calm his heart. "Not now."
Not now. Just as with Darren, his mind hadn't given him the words, his lips had formed them of their own accord. It wasn't "no".
It wasn't no…
And Darren seemed to realize it as well. As his breathing continued to calm, he smiled, softly, gently.
Harkat wanted to tell him… don't wait for me. Don't… it's not a promise. There was so much to sort out, so much that was uncertain… so many memories that, when pieced together, might change his views, his feelings about any number of things…
And yet… all of that was a different life, and right now, he was Harkat, standing in that trailer, looking at the beautiful, heroic Prince who stood with him, the one that he had watched with admiration for as long as he had existed. Now they gazed at each other with a feeling, a love, that was mutual — but… who was it that Darren wanted?
As Harkat thought through all of this, Darren had been standing there, quiet, letting the reality of what he had done sink in, and now Harkat looked up and noticed that Darren was blushing, and staring at him wide-eyed.
Before Harkat could say anything further, Darren turned and ran out the door.
Harkat smiled. He understood. He sat back on the sofa, alone with his thoughts, thinking, for the first time in so long — the first time at all in his new life — that, perhaps, he might have something bright and beautiful to look forward to… as soon as they find a way to end this war and prevent that dismal vision of the future from coming to pass.
AN: In the manga, when Larten is hanging off the bridge just before he dies, he apologizes to Darren for everything, and in the beginning of book 10, when Darren is crying in Truska's tent he says "You have nothing to apologize for!" In response to that memory. Then, in the end, with pre-Harkat Kurda's spirit, Darren apologizes to him, and Kurda says "for what?"
Neither happened in the novels. I like both of those moments, but… if Darren had had that kind of character development, books 11 and 12 would have gone very differently (hence this fic lol).
