Title: Fool
Author: Mon Petit Pierrot
Fandom: Morganville Vampires
Rating: T (for safety)
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: Originally there was only going to be about 4 or 5 chapters, but I enjoy writing this too much to stop now. Myrnin is my FAVORITE character and I love writing from his point of view. The rest of 'Lord of Misrule' will probably be continued in a sequel to this once Myrnin is rescued. Will definitely be continued through Fade Out and maybe Kiss of Death, which comes out next Tuesday! I'm so excited!
And I hope you guys can forgive me for only posting a short chapter. It's short for a reason. But the next chapter will but much longer, I can definitely promise that.
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Fool
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MANY THANKS TO THESE LOVELY PEOPLE WHO HAVE ENCOURAGED THE CONTINUATION OF THIS: ShadowxMagic, chickentyrant5, LeeAnnxx, twirlgirl1996, NothingnessAlchemist, Chatterbox1603, bunyipbabe, xXxVampChicaxXx, sweet little nightmare, Xenakisfox10112, and Valentina-Lestrange.
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It was cold. So cold. Pain had caught up with me. Hours have bled past. How long have I been here? I don't even remember.
No energy to move. The silver continues to burn, though I am still. Distantly aware of the pain. I can't concentrate. So hungry. Babble to nothing. In the dark. Cold freezing my old bones.
My lady, please. Help. Help me.
Hunger claws at my stomach. Can't bear it. Too dark. Can't see.
Light sears my eyes.
I hiss, move away. A mistake. My skin seems to melt. I scream.
"My fool...are you dead? After all these long years?"
Pain is everywhere.
That voice pulls at me, dragging me forward. I remember now.
Bishop.
What does he want? Only a pawn, a pawn. A tool.
My lady, my lady.
"Such a shame."
Hungry.
My body moves. Slithers. I am standing. My feet are on fire, cold. Hot.
I whimper.
Talk, talk. Nothing but talk. Can't move.
"Tell me, Myrnin...would you ever change allegiances?"
Babbling spills from my mouth. Voice is raspy. Don't know what I said.
"You're delirious."
I focus on the white skin of his throat. Hungry. Lean forward to drink.
Sharp contact against my cheek.
I wake.