: ✧･ﾟ: on the 4th day of Christmas :･ﾟ✧:
"(Quick)Silver bells, It's Christmas Time In The Mountain"
Not that anyone asked, but Larten didn't particularly care for this Christmas business. It was a Christian holiday. Or Pagan, depending who you ask. And Larten was neither Christian nor Pagan. His family had barely even acknowledged the holiday while he was human. So why on earth was he suddenly obligated to celebrate now?
Mika and Larten had agreed to run point on decorating the Hall of Khledon Lurt. The mountain's carpentry staff had wheeled up a wagon laden with bright green spruce boughs they'd cut from their most recent lumber acquisition - waste not, want not. (And Larten didn't want any of this).
He initially took solace in knowing there'd be one other vampire in this place who'd see eye-to-eye with him. Surely Mika didn't actually want to do any of this. It had to be a calculated, strategic play to help the Princes stay in the clan's favour. And after last year's insurrection, it didn't hurt. But they could've just thrown a feast without bringing festivity into it. How could this be Larten's first major task as Quartermaster? It was an affront to his dignity.
And worst of all, his assumption was wrong. Not only did Mika completely fail to match Larten's lackluster energy (since when hasn't that been guaranteed?!), he had the nerve to be chipper.
Well, chipper for Mika anyway.
Larten had to assume that meant one of three things: A) Mika had achieved some kind of spiritual enlightenment. Or B) Mika was using heavy drugs. Or C) the apocalypse was nigh.
Larten hoped it was just drugs.
The band was practicing their festive medley over in the corner as Mika and Larten went about hanging the evergreens from the beams of the Hall of Khledon Lurt. Larten's job was to supervise from the ground and hold the ladder steady. But now he kind of wanted to give it a shake - Mika was humming along with the music. There was probably a correlation to the way he kept taking sips from his flask of spiced rum.
"Shouldn't we be doing that job for you, Sire?" A bemused guard offered as he watched Mika and Larten working away.
"One would think so." Was Mika's offhanded response. He was completely dialled in on the task at hand, and didn't even spare the guard a glance.
"Seeing as these festivities are for the enjoyment of the staff, we felt it would be redundant to have the staff manage the preparations." Larten clarified stiffly.
"Oh. Thanks!" Said the guard. He didn't look any less confused, but he was smiling as he walked away.
"How does this look?" Mika asked Larten, gesturing at the way he'd draped a thinner bough around a torch bracket.
"Like a fire hazard." Said Larten, voice almost as dry as the stupid branch.
"Fuck." Mika reassessed the situation, and carefully removed the bough from the bracket and tucked it around a crossbeam instead. "Better?"
"Spectacular. I didn't know you had an eye for interior design, Sire."
Mika didn't even bat an eye. "If we're doing this, we might as well do it right. And I'd rather do it myself than spend all week looking up at someone else's mess knowing I could've done a better job."
That tracks. He's a pathological perfectionist and more than a bit of a control freak.
"Ah. It makes sense when you put it that way." Said Larten, allowing a brittle smile. "For a moment you looked like you were having fun."
There it was. Mika glanced down at him, brow furrowed and nose wrinkling with disdain as if Larten was the one being weird here. At least he looked more like his usual self.
"And what if I was? What would you do? Judge me?" Mika snorted. "Gods forbid."
"I apologize. I meant no offence."
"Gods, you need to loosen up. You sure you don't want some?" Mika asked Larten for the third time that evening as he descended the ladder and held his flask out to Larten.
"I will pass, again. Thank you for offering, again."
Mika raised an eyebrow and took another sip. "What? Afraid someone's going to report you to your boss for drinking on the job?"
"Not as such. I simply do not feel this task warrants a beverage." Said Larten dismissively as he picked up the ladder and carried it to the next beam.
"Listen. You and I are much too close in age for you to act like I don't remember your Quicksilver phase. Quicksilver would've had some." Mika retorted far too pointedly. Every time Larten thinks he's finally left that nickname in the past, he remembers he's not that lucky.
Mika climbed the ladder again and held out his hand to signal he was ready for Larten to pass him the next bough. Larten obliged, and Mika carefully arranged it on the wooden ledge.
Larten narrowed his eyes slightly, but maintained his impassive front. "Quicksilver has been retired for quite some time now. I do not feel it is appropriate for the Quartermaster to drink on the job."
"Didn't stop you at the staff meeting."
"And look what that turned into. Look at us! We are decking the halls as humans do. It is preposterous. With all due respect, I am surprised you of all vampires signed off on this."
For a moment Mika stopped what he was doing so he could look down and fix Larten with the familiar glare that indicated his patience was depleting to a critical level. "You know how I feel about wasting time and resources." He told Larten coolly. "But look how far we've come. We survived the war. We've almost made it a year without going back to war. So we're going to take this as an excuse to have a huge feast and party all night. In my professional and personal opinion, that's a win. We deserve it."
"I am not denying there is no benefit from a morale boost-"
"Then why does your face look like that?"
Larten stiffened. "Like what, precisely?"
"Like a moody prick."
So Mika wanted to start something? Fine. Stupid games win stupid prizes. Bring it on.
"If I may speak candidly, that is rather rich coming from you. Sire." Larten fired back.
Mika snorted derisively. Larten could've sworn there was a laugh hidden somewhere in there too. "Larten, you're a moodier prick than I've ever been! People just haven't noticed because you dress like a fucking cherry."
Once Mika put the bough in place he finally had two free hands to throw in the air in exasperation. (No, Vampire Mountain does not currently offer any ladder safety courses).
"I am not!" Larten snapped. It was hardly an earth-shattering comeback. But it was the best he could do on short notice. Maybe Mika wouldn't be the one winning stupid prizes here tonight after all.
"Then why are you acting like you're being punished for something?" Mika pressed. As fucking relentless as always. "Gods, do you understand how miserable you have to look for me to harass you about your feelings?"
"My feelings are just fine. But thank you for your highly atypical concern."
Mika kept his laser gaze on Larten as he climbed down the ladder. Larten wasn't intimidated. Nor did he feel Mika was intentionally trying to intimidate him. Larten simply didn't want to go there.
But Larten rarely gets what he wants.
"Really? You don't have any thoughts about Darren reuniting with the parents who thought he was dead this whole time, and how that'll impact your ongoing relationship dynamic with him?" Mika fired back without a shred of hesitation.
Larten knew Mika was good at reading people. He'd forgotten just how good.
"I do have one thought." Said Larten, as diplomatically as possible after taking a moment to think about it. "I liked you better when you spared minimal consideration for the emotional well-being of those around you."
Mika let out a sharp laugh at that. "Yeah. Me too." He replied. Then he seemed to sober up for a moment and added: "Listen, I'm not enjoying this conversation any more than you are. So I'm going to tell you one thing. Then I'll fuck off and never bring it up again for as long as either of us live."
"As you wish, Sire." Larten sighed in defeat. He already knew he didn't have a choice.
Mika hesitated for a moment, as if he was second-guessing whatever he had locked and loaded up there in that ever-spinning brain of his. Then he took a deep breath and put it all out there: "Alright. I have no doubt in my mind he misses you just as much as you miss him. That's it. Pass me that branch."
Larten didn't know what he'd been expecting. But it wasn't that. He was so stunned he was unable to articulate a response at first. So he simply passed Mika the branch as instructed.
"Thanks." Said Mika.
Larten opened his mouth to respond you are welcome. And then he heard himself say instead, "Pass me that flask."
Mika paused his work and slowly glanced down at Larten again. This time his face was split into a wicked, almost mischievous grin. He obligingly pulled the flask from his pocket and held it out. Larten took a long drink. A little too long - it scorched his throat and he coughed a few times. To Mika's great amusement.
"Wow, Quicksilver. How far you've fallen."
Larten shot him what was intended to be an eviscerating glare, but it faltered when he felt himself smile back. "Shut up. I am out of practice."
Mika laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Larten got the impression Mika felt there was far more common ground between them than there actually was.
"You and I are not the same, you know." Larten added after taking a second drink. This one went down easier, loosening his tongue in the process. "You raised a human child as your own. I blooded a human child as an apprentice. I am not his father, nor did I ever claim to be. I am glad he has reunited with his parents." He paused, then blamed the rum for the way his voice hitched as he added "…The parents I took him from. So I am confident he is not even thinking about me. Much less missing me."
If Mika noticed the change in tone (and of course he had, because he notices everything), he was a good sport about it. He kept his eyes glued to his decorating as if placing that final bough was taking all of his focus. That meant Larten was free to take a quiet, steadying breath and discreetly wipe the very small pool that had appeared in the corner of his eye.
"It's not for me to say how Darren is or isn't feeling about… that." Mika ventured at last. He continued to not look at Larten, instead keeping his eyes on his decorating as he talked. "All I know is - for reasons beyond my comprehension - that kid fucking loves you. He always will. You're not losing him. You don't have to take my word for it. When the mission is over, he'll come back as if he never left. And you'll know I was right."
For the second time in as many minutes, Larten was blindsided. He didn't respond. He didn't think he could've strung a coherent counterpoint together if his life depended on it.
Mika climbed down from the ladder for the last time and they stood side-by-side, gazing around the hall. Larten could no longer deny the evergreen boughs lent a touch of jolliness to the communal space.
"Looks good, right?" Mika prompted him after a few beats of silence.
"Very sharp indeed." Larten affirmed, having successfully regathered his emotions after the unfortunate stumble.
"So what's next on the list, Quartermaster Crepsley?"
"You are the boss, Sire Ver Leth. You tell me."
"Like fuck I'm doing your job for you." Mika scoffed, snatching the flask back from Larten to another sip. He shot Larten a reproachful look upon realizing it was empty. "I said you could have some. Not all of it."
Larten shrugged, but managed to flash a brittle smile. "Quicksilver was thirsty."
They continued to stand there in silence for some moments longer. The Hall really did look magnificent. Only now was Larten able to comfortably coexist with the fact that Darren would've been living for this festive nonsense if he was here. But Mika was right. He'd be back. And Larten would be right here to welcome him home.
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧
It was convenient that the next item on their list was to stock the bar. That entailed carting bottles and barrels of alcohol up from the storage caverns.
It was Larten's idea to conduct a quality control check before loading each vessel onto the wagon. He was partially joking. But unfortunately for everything else on their schedule for that night, Mika was down for more shenanigans than you'd think.
"How are you so calm about all of it?" Larten slurred as they say there on the floor amidst rows of ancient wooden barrels of alcohol. Nearby sat the wagon - it only got partially filled before they got sidetracked. Barely an hour in and he was already talking twice as loud as usual, and with excessive hand gestures. "The world is very different than the one we grew up in! Do you not feel even a little concerned?"
"I'd sure fucking hope the world is different than it was back then." Said Mika, shrugging. He wasn't as prone to slurring his speech when he drank. Slumping over to rest his face against the wooden barrel, on the other hand… "Don't worry about Darren. If you taught him as well as you think you did, he'll do well for himself. Besides, he's got Gracie keeping him in line. She's smarter than him. No offence. You did your best."
Larten cringed, but not at what Mika said. A disturbing thought had occurred to him. "I just hope Darren does not act in the same manner I did when I first took a break from Seba's guidance all those years ago..."
"He's helping run point on one of the most significant missions of any of our lives, not storming out the mountain because he lost a combat challenge. Yeah, I know all about that story. These walls can talk." Mika smirked in satisfaction as Larten felt his cheeks turn as red as his cloak.
"It was one time." Larten grumbled. He reached over and attempted to cuff Mika upside the head, but they were sitting too far apart. Instead he overreached and tipped over onto the floor. Mika laughed without mercy.
"You know… once that mission is over, maybe a Quicksilver phase would be good for him." Mika remarked as Larten sat back up. "He skipped straight from kid to Prince and missed a few steps in between. That's hardly fair."
"You cannot be serious. Would you be okay with Grace running with a cub pack?!" Larten shot back, aghast.
"She won't. She's already been to college. From my understanding that serves a similar function as cub years." Mika shrugged, then shot Larten a very pointed look. "But Darren didn't get a chance to do either. That's what I'm getting at."
"You are dodging my question." Larten challenged him. "What would you think about your daughter partaking in a… a Quicksilver phase, as you call it?"
"Does it really matter what I'd think?" Said Mika. His face was difficult to read as he took another long sip from his refilled flask. "Do you think Seba and Paris approved when we did it? Did you give a fuck at the time? I sure didn't. And I turned out fine."
"You did not have a Quicksilver phase!" Larten scoffed.
"You're right. I was a lot smarter than you." Mika agreed with a crisp smile. "I had my fun, though. I just did it without making it part of my lifelong reputation."
Larten figured that was enough for tonight. He let out a huff of irritation and rose to his feet - or at least he tried. His crucial mistake was using the booze wagon to steady himself. It rolled away as he leaned on it, and he dropped like a stone.
Mika was carrying on like he had front row tickets to the comedy spectacle of a lifetime. He was doubled over, practically wheezing. Larten had never seen him laugh so hard. And he never wanted to again.
"Oh my gods, Larten. Fuck. I'm sorry. I really am." Mika gasped, wiping tears from his eyes as he tried to recollect himself. "That was a Quicksilver move if I've ever seen one. I wish Darren was here to see it."
For the first time that night, Larten smiled. Because he could hear Darren's laughter in his head as if the kid was standing here in the room with them. Just because Darren wasn't here, didn't mean he was gone.
And when Mika offered him a helping hand to get back up on his feet, Larten accepted.
"I give you a hard time because I know not only can you take it, but you can give it back to me. You know that, right?" Mika ventured as they reluctantly got back to work. "You earned your investiture nomination. Just because you turned it down doesn't mean I don't see you as my equal."
"I know." Larten answered. He did know. "And I must thank you for… looking out for me. It is appreciated." Then with great caution and no shortage of awkwardness, he reached out and placed his hand on Mika's shoulder. "And if you ever need someone to -"
It was a miscalculation.
"We're not that close." Mika cut him off bluntly.
"Apologies."
"Refill my flask and we're good."
Larten shot him a wry grin. The time for bickering had passed. "One cup of cheer coming right up."