: ･ﾟ: on the 8th day of Christmas :･ﾟ:
"Ye Merry Gentlemen"
Seba always had a penchant for keeping his cards close to his chest. From his emotions, to his goals, not to mention in the literal sense when he actually sat down and played a card game. In any given circumstances he made a point of only showing as much as he felt necessary. Especially where Larten was concerned. Part of his success could almost certainly be attributed to Seba's skill at withholding praise. Is that a healthy way to go about things? Seba will answer your question with another question: since when do vampires prioritize their health?
There's no way to know for sure. Maybe Larten was naturally skilled enough to reach the same level of success even if Seba did make a habit of throwing the phrase "I am proud of you" around like confetti all those years ago. But Seba wasn't about to test that theory now. He said it once this year; the day Larten officially took over as Quartermaster. There was a little ceremony and a small feast. Seba muttered the comment out of the corner of his mouth as everyone raised their mugs in toast. Larten muttered his thanks, and that was it. No muss, no fuss. Seba assumed Larten knew he was doing a stellar job in his new role. He didn't feel the need to remind him every day. Nor did Seba feel the need to ask him how he was doing. He was a grown vampire. If he needed help, he could ask.
And in the unlikely event that night ever came, Seba would be right here.
(The spider cave, specifically).
"Good evening, Mr. Lovely." Seba murmured fondly as he reached for the cavern wall to stroke the familiar grey fuzz of an old friend who'd crept over to see him. Gracie's childhood pet had been living down here among his own kind ever since she first set out for boarding school, but she still made regular trips to the spider cave whenever she spent time in the mountain. And to this day Lovely was as abnormally affectionate towards people as ever. It was as if he was part dog. Or more likely neurologically damaged somehow. Either way he was a pleasure to interact with.
"Your girl is doing well. I know she thinks of you often. And in a few short years she will be home to feed you grubs once more." Seba added as he ran his finger gently across Lovely's fluffy back. He spoke out loud because it helped the spiders get used to the sound of a live voice, but he simultaneously transmitted the concept to Lovely by way of telepathy to get the message across.
Lovely wasn't alone; the notorious Madam Octa was never far away. She was far less outgoing than her mate. And as always she had zero desire to be petted. But Seba was proud to call himself one of the few she'd taken a liking to. He was no Larten, though.
"You are as fiercely beautiful as always, Madam." Seba told her, keeping a respectful distance. "I see you have been busy building your dynasty. They are magnificent."
While Octa wasn't nearly as expressive as Lovely, Seba knew her well enough to read her more subtle mannerisms. She seemed to be focused on the corridor behind him.
"Larten is not coming this time, but he sends his regards." Said Seba gently. "Do not look at me like that! You know he is very busy these nights. It does not mean he does not care. I am sure he will be down for a visit when he is able. Do not hold it against him."
Octa's gaze shifted away from the door and seemed to refocus on Seba.
"I know." Seba murmured. "I wish he had been able to make it."
Octa didn't actually nod, because spiders can't nod. But her body twitched in a way that Seba interpreted as a "Whatever." Then she scuttled back up the wall to get back to the dead bat she'd been feasting on.
Lovely remained right there, watching Seba expectantly.
"Maybe I forgot your grubs, hmm? What then?" Said Seba, arching an eyebrow at the impudent spider. When Lovely didn't budge Seba laughed and produced the small bag of grubs from his pocket.
As Lovely devoured his feast with gusto, Seba smiled and watched the spiders go about their business. For a few minutes, the rest of the world faded away. It was just him and the spiders. That was the singular silver lining to retirement - he could spend as many hours as he wanted down here without worrying if anyone needed him. They had Quartermaster Crepsley now.
A sudden patter of footsteps caught Seba off-guard. Nobody ever came down this way unless they wished to see the spiders. Which meant nobody ever came down here except Seba. But his alarm only lasted for a second; he identified the owner of the footsteps with ease. He was smiling as he turned to see Larten appear around the corner.
"Sorry I am late." Larten greeted him, puffing a little from the hike.
"No need to apologize considering I was not expecting you at all." Seba replied evenly.
"I did not think I would have time. And truth be told, I still do not have time." Said Larten. He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace to Seba.
Seba squeezed Larten's shoulder as he drew even. "And yet here you are."
Now that he was standing so close Seba could see there were dark circles under his eyes and tired lines etched into his face. But the moment he spotted Madam Octa his eyes lit up like fireworks and he looked at least a decade younger.
"Ah! There she is. Hello, my friend."
If Seba didn't know any better, he would've sworn he heard Larten's voice catch in his throat a little. Luckily Seba knows better.
Within minutes Octa was scampering up and down Larten's arms, across his shoulders, and even peeking through his hair. Seba's heart grew three sizes at the youthful grin on Larten's face as they played. He seemed to forget Seba was even there, and Seba let him. Larten needed this. Seba busied himself by seeing if Lovely remembered any of his old tricks. The extra grub in Seba's pocket jogged his memory nicely.
"She is happy to see you." Seba ventured, glancing over at Larten and Octa after several minutes had passed. "This might be the most enthusiasm she has ever shown."
Larten's smile faded and Seba's heart sank. It had not been his intention to make Larten feel guilty. Octa was doing just fine down here. The emotional range of a spider isn't that complex.
"I truly do wish I could visit her more frequently." Said Larten with a mournful sigh. "It seems that every time I attempt to set aside an hour for myself, there comes along another problem for me to solve. And I -"
"Have no choice but to drop everything and solve it. Yes, I am familiar with the job description." Seba chuckled.
Larten nodded pensively and continued to indulge Madam Octa. He looked like he had more on his mind than he was letting on, but Seba did not pry.
"How did you manage it for all those years?" Larten asked, catching Seba by surprise. But not because he didn't already know what Larten was thinking about - the surprising part was that he came right out and said it.
"Do what, precisely?"
Larten's shoulders sagged as he met Seba's gaze. "All of it! I trained under you for decades while you served as Quartermaster. I do not believe I ever witnessed you blink, much less break a sweat. By the black blood of Harnon Oan, how did you make it look so effortless?!"
Seba had known Larten was struggling to shoulder the weight of his new responsibilities. He'd known for weeks; it was why he'd wanted him to take an hour out of his night to visit the spider cave. He just hadn't anticipated Larten actually opening up about it.
"I am flattered that was your impression as a bystander." Said Seba at last. "And I do not know if this will make you feel better or worse - but I assure you the job has never been effortless for anyone."
"I didn't expect it to be easy." Larten groaned. "I knew it would be a monumental challenge. But I hoped I would have risen to the challenge by now."
"What leads you to the assumption you have not?"
"I feel as if every night is my first night on the job! Every time I think I am figuring it out, a whole new problem arises and I am left scrambling for a solution and feeling like an utter fool!"
"New problems will never stop arising. But you will grow comfortable with not having an immediate solution every time." Said Seba. "And that comfort will allow you the mental flexibility to steady yourself and find those solutions at every turn."
Larten pressed his lips together. Seba could practically hear his mental gears whirring.
"You are not satisfied with my explanation." Seba added wryly.
"Of course I'm not!" Larten burst out at last, cheeks flushing pink.
Seba tried to bite his tongue, but he just couldn't help himself.
"I am not." He replied, arching an eyebrow and pointedly over-pronouncing each word.
Seba felt a little bad for going there while Larten was experiencing a rare moment of vulnerability. But the reaction was so comical it was worth it. Larten's cheeks went from pink to crimson and the way his eyes bulged indignantly. He turned on his heel and began to stalk away.
"Forget I said anything. I must be getting back to work."
"No. Wait, Larten." Seba groaned. "Don't leave."
Larten froze in his tracks as if struck by lightning. He slowly rotated on the spot, looking a whole new kind of shellshocked.
"What did you just say?"
"You heard me." Said Seba gravely. "I will not be repeating myself."
It occurred to Seba this would be the first time in Larten's memory he heard a contraction pass Seba's lips. Seba intended for it to be the last. But it had done the trick magnificently - it had caught Larten's attention.
"Now you listen to me." Seba added. "I did not spend nearly fifty years postponing my retirement and refusing to designate a successor - despite the Princes practically begging me to start training a replacement - just to hear you question your worthiness. You will be the finest Quartermaster Vampire Mountain has ever known. And I am proud to have played a part in making you the vampire, the man you are today. Do I make myself clear?"
Larten's eye twitched. So did his mouth. His entire face, really. Seba was actually surprised he held it together as well as he did.
"Crystal clear… Master Nile."
"Good. We shall speak no more about it."
"First I must tell you I am sorry for bringing my foul mood down here with me." Larten sighed. "It was not my intention. And please do not think me ungrateful for my promotion. It is the honour of a lifetime. I am just…"
"Tired." Seba supplied.
"Yes. Tired."
"The role of Quartermaster is a dance in which Vampire Mountain is your fearsome partner. Now, the tricky bit is that you are to take the lead in that dance." Said Seba. He paused, then added - "And forgive me if I am wrong, but I seem to recall you having ample experience with fearsome dance partners." He glanced meaningfully at Madam Octa who was perched on the wall where Larten left her.
Larten seemed to ponder that for a moment. But when he finally smiled again, his entire posture changed along with his face. As if he'd shed the invisible weight he'd been carrying.
He extended his hand to Octa and she settled comfortably in his palm once more.
"Did I ever tell you we had a special festive routine we'd perform at all of our December Cirque appearances?" He asked Seba.
"I do not believe so."
Larten winked and reached into his cloak pocket to withdraw his flute. Then he glanced surreptitiously to Octa. She seemed to match his energy like she knew what was coming.
"What shall we start with?" Larten asked her seriously. "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, or Frosty The Snowman?"
As far as OCs go, Lovely the tarantula comes second only to Gracie in my heart.