It was the final night of the Festival of the Undead. Despite the roar of drunken vampires inside the mountain a fresh blanket of snow deadened the sound outside of the mountain. A full moon illuminated the mountain, outlining the silhouette of a lone figure standing tall on one of the mountains many ledges.

Arra's long dress fluttered in the slight breeze, torn over the course of her many challenges during the Festival. She drew her arms across her chest with a sniffle, convincing herself it was merely the crisp mountain air and not her hurt pride. The vampiress let out a low chuckle as she heard a faint humming behind her, and then a familiar chorus she had not heard for more than a century.

Lovely Arra Sails,

How I would like to spear you

As a sailor spears a whale

"You always did have a talent for putting your foot in your mouth." She turned to face Larten, a small smile spilling across her face despite herself. The tall orange-haired vampire was in the middle of pulling off his shockingly red tuxedo jacket.

"So I have been told," Larten commented dryly, draping it over her shoulders.

"You didn't have to do that," Arra said, pulling the jacket tighter across her chest.

"Always so proud."

"I have no reason to be proud at the moment."

Larten scoffed, "Do not be stupid- well, that is-" He coughed hesitantly when she threw him a withering glare, "Do not pay too much attention to it, you lost to a prince elect, I hardly think that makes you a failure in the eyes of our brethren."

"A pacifist prince elect." Arra scoffed, "Nobody is going to let me forget it."

"You are overreacting."

"You've lost some of your charms Quicksilver."

Larten smiled wryly, "I am afraid women have raised their standards somewhat these past fifty years."

Arra snorted, "It's about time they did."

"I still believe my point stands," Larten interceded.

Arra sat on the edge of the cliff face, Larten's jacket still draped around her shoulders, her head fell into her hands. "You don't know what it's like." She said softly so that he had to strain to hear her.

"What?" He asked sitting beside her and draping an arm around her.

"You don't know what it's like to be a woman in the clan." She whispered.

"I can imagine-"

"No," She interrupted, "I don't think you can."

Larten was silent for a few moments, trying to figure out the right words to say, "I remember the first time I saw you in the mountain." He said after a while, "You were with Mika. I tried to win you over, but you had no time for me."

Arra chuckled, and Larten was pleased to see a smile grace her face once more, "I remember that. You and Mika were too busy fighting over me to respect that I had a reputation to build if I wanted to be part of the clan."

"And yet you persisted, despite the jeers and the taunts and the constant pursuits. You rose through the ranks with the utmost pride, and you will do so again. This is merely a setback."

She patted the hand on her shoulder, "That's not really the point. Though I take back the comment about losing your charm. For anyone else in the clan, it wouldn't have been a setback, even if they had been champion on the bars." She said bitterly.

Larten's eyes cast downward and he sighed. "I am sorry, I did not think."

"It's not exactly your fault." Arra said, "As I said, it's not like you could understand."

"Arra-"

"Could we talk about something else?" She asked, turning her face away.

"Such as?"

"How are you holding up?" Arra asked seriously.

Larten ran his other hand down his face tiredly. "It is nice not having to worry about Darren for a few nights. Though I still cannot help but think that the remaining trials will be the worst."

"He's a tough little kid," Arra said encouragingly.

"I know he is," Larten agreed, "And I would not have allowed him to participate in the trials if I did not think him capable, but I still worry."

Arra turned so that she could face him, undraping his arm from her shoulder and taking both his hands in hers. "I promise you I'll personally train him if he chooses one of the worse trials."

"Do you not have General duties to attend to?"

Arra waved his concern away, "There are hundreds of Generals in the Mountain right now, the princes won't miss me. Besides, Darren is more important right now."

"Thank you." Larten said sincerely, "For everything you have done for him."

"He's a good kid." She stood, still holding his hands. She traced the scars on one of them with a nail.

Larten stood, taking one of her hands and placing it on his shoulder. "Care to dance?" He asked sheepishly.

"Without music?" Arra asked eyebrow raised.

Larten smirked, "I could always sing-" He trailed off.

"On second thought, the wind in the trees suit me just fine." Arra amended, putting his other hand on her waist, allowing him to spin her in a circle.

Later, as she lay dying at his side, he recalled her swaying in his arms and reminded her of how many more dances he still owed her after all the years he missed. "You can't let them kill him," She rasped, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

"Shh," He hushed her, "You will tell them yourself."

"Just in case," She said defiantly, squeezing his hand. Her breaths grew shorter and shorter, and Larten blinked back his own tears, knowing full well she would not want him to waste them on her.

"I swear to you I will not allow any harm to come to him, my dear."

"Good," She coughed, "You need him."

"You are mixed up love."

Arra shook her head, despite the pain. "No," She disagreed. "You need him, this is the happiest I've ever seen you, even Gavner..." She trailed off, though whether it was from the pain or because she realized talking about the fallen General would hurt him too much, Larten could not say. "He makes you a better vampire, a better man."

"I will keep him safe." He promised, watching her closely as she struggled to breathe.

Even though her last words were too soft for him to catch, he could have sworn she said something about a "Good kid," before her stormy grey eyes went glassy and Arra Sails would not see even his shockingly bright hair anymore in this life.