Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chpt 60 Fatalistic Acceptance and the Stackhouse Gene
NPOV
Really, these vampire are going to be terribly lucky if my little ray does not obliterate them by the end of this night.
I am not entirely sure she has enough control or sense of self for such a test so soon but at least I am here and I will do my best to prevent her doing something she will deeply regret. Nevertheless I cannot break my dedication to allowing her to mature on her own. She can do this, she just needs to trust herself, and me.
It is not easy to allow though. Even if I am convinced that this is the right thing to do. I know I over protect my own children, and my grandchildren. My wife used to tell me so all the time. And there is nothing wrong with them, they are all quite wonderful in their way, aside from the stew issues in the female line, but they are all . . . . ah . . . . a little 'soft'? I suppose that depends how you define soft, my son, Nathaniel is the consummate warrior and swordsman, decidedly un-soft. But he does not like to, actually cannot, make difficult decisions, they give him gas, verbal diarrhea and chronic fence post issues. All of which subsequently afflict me, since we are kin.
I would not make those mistakes with my little ray. I would prefer her to know her own strength and mind, and be able to deploy them as and when required. Just as her vampire can.
The 'right thing' is an entirely subjective issue in my experience. I believe, to the core of my being, that I have mostly done the right thing, but there are plenty, alive and dead, who would vehemently disagree with me.
Is Faery at peace? Yes. Are supernatural wars a thing of the past? At the moment, yes. These are things I believed, and still believe to be right, but my subjective version of right has not come without bloodshed. Some of which I actually regret.
"What? Oh, apologies Master, the document is here."
I pass Desmond a random sheet of paper and he thanks me politely before bending his head and pretending to read it. Good luck with that, I think it contains instructions for making a cake of some sort.
He wants to laugh but he is not going to, Desmond and I have known each other a long time and we are friends for a reason.
Finally.
The officiating vampire, a town crier in a former life, is done reeling off all the pointless rules and we can start.
With him immediately proceeding to read the charges in his annoyingly nasal voice.
Stars! If only there were such a thing as fast forward magic. Perhaps there is, it is not an avenue I have thought of exploring before, surprisingly . . . .
Desmond elbows me and I pass him another sheaf of papers, something about the warranty on his automobile I think.
My little ray's eyes are literally boring a hole in the back of my head but her vampire has managed to avoid looking at me once since he took his place, regally if I may so, in the chair to the left of the dais.
Is it terribly wrong that I am probably going to enjoy this?
SPOV
Finally!
The charges are read and my friends know almost as much about what is going on as I do. Their speculative thoughts from earlier zeroing in on the truth. De Castro. The three of them trying to work out how he's engineered this, what is likely to happen, how they can thwart it, and what Niall's presence might imply.
Thalia is the most relaxed, her thoughts focussed on past experience of Niall that I can't focus on right now, there's so much I'm trying to catch as the nasal vampire calls on Nevada.
He stands, managing to beam at everyone in the room, and the hatred in me brings bile to my throat.
To keep quiet and still I focus on Eric's face, which is quiet and still.
He was lucky to come across this 'information' and saddened to have to bring it to the attention of the Rhodes Council, diverting them from their appointed purpose. Disappointed that an aged vampire with Eric's reputation should stoop so low in order to further his desires. Humbled and honoured to be afforded the chance to bring what he knows, and his witness, before a Council of his and Eric's peers. Afraid that his revelations will bring forth an even larger tranche of treachery and deceit.
I could make you toast in a heartbeat little man, do you know that?
Mississippi thanks him on behalf of the bench and he graces the room with his smile again, almost as if we're giving him a round of applause, which we aren't.
Hate.
Quinn, the tiger, is called and escorted in by yet more guards. His mind is a mess, weres obviously aren't easy to glamour, it looks like someone's taken a knife and fork to it. But I could undo it, given enough time, and a total disregard for the family Nevada is holding against him . . . .
Indiana begins the questioning. Starting back with Rhodes and Quinn's impressions of Eric's actions, it doesn't take long to see where thoughts are going with this. There's no prosecutor as such, it's more like the Council of Monarchs lead and every other vampire is free to join in whenever they get the urge. A Sheriff from Philadelphia wants to know if Quinn finds it suspicious that Eric managed to escape the hotel unscathed, in broad daylight and without the aid of Quinn's security team, whilst leaving his Queen to be grievously injured in the blast and subsequent fire. Or rather Nevada does and the Sheriff's going to be paid for asking the question.
The stress of knowing what's going on and not being able to do anything about is making me shake like a leaf, only Thalia's hand on my arm and Eric's presence giving me any kind of anchor.
"Not really." Quinn answers honestly. "His human, Ms Stackhouse, brought him out."
The Sheriff snorts derisively and several others laugh, all eyes in the amphitheatre turning to take in my tiny frame and then moving, like spectators at a tennis match, to Eric's magnificent Viking one.
"I see." Indiana drawls, sounding amused. "And how, exactly, did she do that?"
Again Quinn is completely honest. "I don't know." He shrugs. "She went upstairs to get him, one of his were guards was already up there, I'm guessing the two of them brought him out. The next time I saw her she was helping the human authorities search the rubble."
"Ah yes." Nevada intones, as if it's somehow dawned on him who I am. "The telepath who 'saw' the explosion and just in the 'nick of time' I might add."
Wow, that's doesn't sound incriminating at all.
I wait for Eric to say something, but he remains quiet, a look of disinterest pasted onto his face. Is he not allowed to say anything, should I say something, why didn't I pay more attention to the nasally voiced vampire? Not that the truth, that we tobogganed down the side of the building in a coffin as it collapsed, is likely to come over as particularly plausible.
Indiana resumes questioning Quinn, this time on events at the Palace when he arrived to plan the coronation. And that's when all Nevada's carefully crafted lies start spewing out. Overheard conversations, shifty behaviour, grossly overblown rumours of Eric's treasonous words to Andre, his abrupt absence from the Palace on the night that Philadelphia and Sophie Anne disappeared. His triumphant return the following night with me in tow, both of us clearly showing signs of a struggle. Talk about an unknown and untraceable, at least by Eric, force that attacked Philadelphia's men when they tried to recuse Sophie Anne's beloved child from the nefarious plottings of said Eric Northman and his co-conspirators.
There are hardly any questions, the assembled vampires are lapping it up like old ladies watching a soap opera. Where's the evidence?
Ah. There isn't going to need to be any is there? This isn't any kind of trial I'd understand. The outcome is predetermined, agreed.
More questions, from Washington this time.
First Charles.
Did Eric behave treasonously with Andre? Did Eric disappear the night the two Monarchs he's accused of killing did? Were the Louisiana vampires ever able to determine who attacked Philadelphia's men? Or what happened to him?
Charles's yes but, no but, answers don't appear to be doing much good.
Washington then starts in on Nevada, who's got something on him re his own past act of regicide, what had his former second and close friend Philadelphia told him about his visit to Louisiana?
And, he's off. Close ties with Sophie Anne, long time respect for her, glad Philadelphia was willing to look out for her when he himself was far too busy in his own state. Spoke to his friend by phone the night before he disappeared, was glad to hear he'd been able to visit the Queen, worried that it seemed several states, including Texas were planning takeovers, was pleased his former second was willing to assist in her defence and was appalled at the rumour that one or some of her own Sheriffs were plotting against her.
The Monarchs on the bench can all completely understand why the Sheriffs of a badly weakened Queen would be plotting against her but not one of them is planning to pipe up and say so.
The bench then questions Stan, who has his own ass to cover, which he does by admitting to nothing and pointing out the fact that he did, in fact, do nothing.
It goes on, circumstantial evidence and hearsay, but De Castro's done his homework well, the various vampires questioned, or who ask questions, they all manage to make nothing sound so damn plausible. All presented in an order that makes the whole thing flow like a Broadway play, he's even got me enthralled and I know it's all lies. Nan Flannigan is here, ready to report the wise justice of vampires to the world, I hope she's taking notes because Nevada's orchestrating a master class in making bullshit smell like roses . . . .
Except of course she doesn't know that, not even the vampires on the bench know that for definite, though they suspect.
Though I'm sick to my stomach it's kind of freeing in a way because the only thing that revealing what I am is going to achieve is to get me killed along with Eric and the other people he cares about, and call me a drama queen, but I'm okay with that. If Eric can vow to meet his true death before he'll let Nevada touch me then he's not going to complain about me coming to the same conclusion.
I don't know how he's figured it out but I can tell by the way his essence is coiled around mine in the bond, that he's come to the same conclusion without needing to hear it in the heads around him. He's just angrier about it than I am. Not that anyone but me can tell, his poker face is impeccable. And I can see it in his eyes, since neither of us can be bothered pretending to ignore each other any longer.
Thalia and Charles are starting to realise too.
Funny how we're all so calm about it, must be the fatalistic acceptance Eric's been channelling.
The 'questioning' continues. Eric is going to be last since it will be both more dramatic and leave less chance of anyone throwing a spanner in the works.
It's very difficult to sit still while De Castro's smug satisfaction is threatening to suffocate me like a noxious cloud but I know I'm going to get my chance to speak, since his plan is to lay claim to me during my testimony.
Good luck with that.
I don't know what, if anything, Niall is going to be able to do to help once I start down this path, but this isn't really his fight so I don't suppose it matters, I just hope he won't mind keeping me alive long enough to say my piece.
Tell the truth and shame the devil. If I had a dime for every time I heard some hard hearted Bon Temps Grande Dame use that phrase to excuse the 'bitchfest' they were about to embark on I'd be a rich woman right now. Tell the truth and shame the midget vampire? I somehow don't think he'll feel much shame but if I'm reading this situation right he might well end up just as dead as we are. Hell they might even let Eric kill him, which would cheer him up no end. Albeit briefly, since we'll be next.
I chuckle grimly and Thalia turns her head toward me again for a moment.
Rhodes has created a public relations disaster for the AVL, or rather the apparent culprit's abrupt disappearance did. Even the saner parts of society, that agreed with me that the man was a crazed despot and about as far off God's intended path as you can get, weren't impressed that vampires apparently felt it was okay to do away with him without following due process. The deaths at Newlin's compound, courtesy of one Fairy Prince, have been widely reported and discussed. If something isn't done vampires might have to actually start thinking more about the way they behave since there are a great many more of us 'cattle' than there are of them.
And Nevada isn't as stupid as my vampires seemed to think he was.
His carefully crafted, if flimsy, scenario has given the Council everything they need, and though they may regret losing such a fine vampire as Eric to the cause they're going to take what Nevada's offering them with both hands. Nasty Newlin planted the bomb, killing humans and vampires alike. But it was a single rogue vampire who went out and 'offed' him for his crime. A bad apple who then used the whole situation to his advantage, killing his Queen and her dedicated defenders so that he could assume her throne and feather his own nest. A rogue vampire and his despicable followers who were subsequently caught and emphatically and publically punished by their more honest and genuine peers.
No wonder Nevada's happy. He gets the state he wanted, the telepath he wanted, and the unending respect and gratitude of his peers.
Except he isn't going to.
Because there are two things he doesn't know. Yet.
One. The King of Texas is already preparing to kick him out of Louisiana, fair and square, before he can get his feet under the table. And two. The little blonde firecracker he's planning to dip his wick into is gonna burn that sorry little thing right down to the wax, except her aim isn't currently that good . . . .