Title: Fool
Author: Mon Petit Pierrot
Fandom: Morganville Vampires
Rating: T
Summary: "Ah, I expected you would say that also." Myrnin marked his place with the utmost care and closed the book, setting it in his lap. "I'm afraid I have to decline your offer, Bishop."
Note: This is a Myrnin-centric, post-Feast of Fools fanfiction taking place between Myrnin's capture by Bishop and his eventual rescue.
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Fool
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Many thanks to: ShadowxMagic, chickentyrant5, LeeAnnxx, and twirlgirl1996.
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Awareness came slowly, his body too heavy as he rose from the oppressing darkness of sleep. He could feel the cold stone beneath him and the faint murmur of voices just at the edges of his hearing. He moaned softly as he pushed himself upright. A headache pulsed just behind his ears, his throat dry of moisture, and he swallowed uneasily.
He heard a dull clink as he shifted, and then there was fire crawling up his leg. A startled scream pushed itself out of his throat and he whimpered, the thick scent of silver flooding his senses. He tried to ignore the increasing pain as it remained constant. He doubled over, pressing his body against the concrete in an effort to soothe the agony. He had never felt so disgusted with himself, to be reduced to this, a kicked dog.
"Ah, I see that my escaped fool has been recaptured."
Myrnin lifted his head, struggling to see Bishop through blurry eyes, and snarled in defense. "What do you want with me, old man?" he spat.
"You know what I want. My daughter. Morganville. Information. The book." Bishop chucked dryly. "You of all people should know this, my dear fool."
Hissing in warning as Bishop came closer, Myrnin shrank back and ignored the pain of the silver on his exposed skin. "You'll never get information out of me."
"So loyal, aren't you," sighed the older vampire.
"I don't have anything worthy to sell to you," Myrnin shot back. "I do not know Amelie's current location."
Bishop nudged him easily with his foot. It was just a simple push really, but Myrnin flew backwards and slammed into the wall upside down. His feet were jerked roughly, the chains chaffing against his ankles, the silver streak of powder covering his leg.
He curled up, defenseless against the pain, and hid his face.
"One of these days you will give the information I seek, Myrnin. And that day will come very soon."