Hi fam! This is another chapter that's centered around one from the original version, but I've expanded on what was already there and added brand new scenes that never existed in the original. I'm a little iffy on Paris's characterization here but I figured Mika needed to face some consequences at some point. So I leaned into Paris having some strong feelings about the situation.
Enjoy!
Chapter 5: Blame Game
It wasn't lost on Kurda that Mika was a little apprehensive of how Paris would react when he returned to Vampire Mountain to find out Mika had accidentally adopted a child in his absence.
Okay, that wasn't totally true. Mika and Kurda weren't adopting Gracie. They had every intention of finding a safe way to release her back into civilization... eventually. It was just a little hard to do reconnaissance when they both lived full-time in the mountain, cut off from the rest of the world.
Being more naturally inclined towards administrative duties than his peers (i.e. Arrow and Vancha who were happier running around in the wilderness) Mika had always spent the majority of time in the mountain. Not that he couldn't rough it with the rest of them, but things seemed to run smoothly when he was here. And Kurda had been living full-time in the mountain for over a decade now. Despite his controversial political agenda, he was still one of the higher-ranking Generals and spent a lot of time in meetings. And when he wasn't doing that, he could be found mapping every corner of the mountain. He was also frequently recruited by Seba to create blueprints for future renovations and expansions. Seeing as Kurda was just about the only vampire in the clan who was gifted enough in fine art to rise to such a challenge, he was useful to have around.
It had been strange not to have Paris in the mountain for the past year. He'd always been such a permanent feature of the place. After all, he was already quite old when Kurda first joined the clan almost two hundred years ago. Paris was still tough as nails, but he didn't travel as much as he used to. Prior to Paris's departure last year, Kurda overheard Vancha speculating that Paris probably intended for it to be the last grand adventure of his life. Mika punched Vancha in the head and told him to shut up; that Paris was simply doing exactly what he said he was doing, which was making a routine voyage to the tomb of Perta Vin-Grahl to make sure it still hadn't been discovered by humans. That turned into a fistfight between Mika and Vancha, which Arrow had to break up.
Anyway, that's not really relevant to anything. It's just something Kurda thought was kind of funny. Mika, Arrow, and Vancha were a bit of an unprecedented trio for two reasons. They were the three youngest Princes in clan history. Vancha broke an age record at the time of his investiture, which was broken by Mika less than a century later. Arrow was older than Mika, but still a hell of a lot younger than the vast majority of his predecessors. And even more remarkable, all three had been mentored by the legendary Paris Skyle. And all three ended up on thrones beside him. It was widely known that Paris worked his apprentices harder than the average vampire did, so the clan would never doubt that their accomplishments were a result of their own merit, rather than good old-fashioned nepotism. It sure did the trick - three times over.
Where we're going with this is that Paris, Mika, Arrow, and Vancha have a hell of a family dynamic. Paris Skyle sits not only at the head of the vampire clan, but as the patriarch of his own makeshift family unit. And that means Paris is the only living, breathing entity on planet earth who has the power to put the other three in their place.
Expectation: There are no ranks among the Princes. Once you have a throne, nobody can tell you shit - not even your peers.
Reality: Compared to the average vampire, Mika, Arrow, and Vancha are elite - that much is true. But compared to Paris, they may as well be glue-eating, nose-picking, marker-sniffing preschoolers. Alright, maybe that was a little harsh - even for Kurda's internal monologue. Mika, Arrow, and Vancha were highly qualified for their roles. It's just hard to look important when you're standing next to Paris Skyle.
Paris had been back for about half a day, and Kurda was surprised Mika hadn't gone up to the Hall of Princes to see him yet. But that worked in Kurda's favour that particular evening. Not that he enjoyed hanging out with Mika, but he needed backup tonight. After almost a month of willingly eating most of the food she was offered with minimal protest, Gracie abruptly decided to boycott all food with the sole exception of biscuits.
"I thought you were supposed to be a world-class negotiator or something." Mika growled at Kurda while Kurda did his damnedest to swallow the spoonful of beige baby mush he'd put in his mouth in an effort to convince Gracie how tasty it was.
"I thought the same about you. And I thought you were better than me. Seeing as you never let me forget you have a special wooden chair and I don't." Kurda replied disdainfully, after finally swallowing and only just managing to conceal his disgust. He forced a wide, cheerful grin in the direction of Gracie who was dead-eyeing him with way more attitude than a baby should've been capable of. The combined skills of the clan's two strongest negotiators were no match for her iron will.
But Arrow's sudden arrival forced them to put the food predicament on the back burner. The bald Prince came lumbering over just as Mika was about to cave and give Gracie the biscuit she'd been coveting since he made the mistake of showing it to her. It had been a failed attempt to bribe her into eating the mush.
"If it isn't the happy family!" Arrow greeted them loudly, eliciting eye-rolls from both Mika and Kurda. "Mika, where the hell have you been?"
"Subverting a hunger strike." Mika replied. "Just to confirm, they can't live off just biscuits, right?"
"I suppose... technically?" Said Arrow. He scratched his head as if he was seriously contemplating the question. "Probably not ideal, though. They need certain amounts from all five food groups. There's math involved. I don't really-"
"It was a rhetorical question. And there's four food groups." Said Kurda, with more scorn than was probably necessary. He was a little sleep-deprived, so respecting Arrow wasn't high on his priorities for the night.
"Careful, Smahlt." Arrow grumbled, shooting Kurda a reproachful glare. Mika glanced up at Arrow, arching his eyebrows.
"See what I have to put up with?" Said Mika, gesturing vaguely at Kurda.
"Excuse you? I don't see you stuffing this goop into your mouth to try to convince her to eat!" Kurda protested.
"Because it worked so well when you did it?" Said Mika. "At least she's strong-minded. Smart, too. I wouldn't touch that slop either."
"Keep it up and I'm going to throw this bowl of slop at your head, Sire."
"You're the worst fucking pacifist I've ever seen."
"I hate to interrupt your family time. Seriously - I could watch this all night. Best entertainment I've seen in decades." Arrow interjected, almost succeeding in stifling a chuckle. "But Paris wants to see you, Mika. Immediately. I'm sure I don't have to tell you why."
"You told him about Gracie?" Mika sighed in profound resignation.
"I didn't think it was a secret." Said Arrow. He looked mildly alarmed.
"It's not." Said Mika quickly. "I was just hoping to speak to him in private later, and explain everything."
"Ah. That's why you've been hiding out all day." Said Arrow, nodding.
The two Princes exchanged a knowing look, and Kurda felt a sense of foreboding. He already knew Mika was bracing himself for Paris to have some strong feelings about their snap decision to bring her home. But maybe it was going to be worse than expected.
"Guess I'd better head up." Mika mumbled, sounding more dejected than Kurda had ever heard him. "Been nice knowing you, Arrow. Gracie, you too. Smahlt... not so much."
"Don't be stupid. I'm coming with you." Kurda replied, choosing to ignore the barbed comment. He stood up and scooped Gracie into his arms. "This was a joint venture, was it not?"
"You think that's going to matter to Paris?" Mika growled as they began to walk. "I was leading that mission. I failed. I'm the one who ultimately signed off on her coming back to the mountain."
"After I suggested it!" Said Kurda, falling into step on Mika's left side while Arrow did the same on his right, clearly eager to watch whatever carnage was about to unfold. "You said it yourself. The only reason we didn't intercept the vampaneze in time was because I refused to accept your theory that he was mad, even though all evidence suggested it." Kurda added.
"Like you said, I could've overruled you at any point. And even though I knew better, I didn't." Said Mika bitterly. "Slice it however you want, this is still on me."
Kurda said nothing for the rest of the long walk up to the Hall of Princes.
Mika knew it would be bad. But it was so much worse than he expected.
"By the black blood of Harnon Oan! Mika Ver Leth, what the hell was going through your mind when you thought this was a reasonable course of action?" Paris Skyle thundered furiously as he paced back and forth on the throne platform of the Hall of Princes. His body was ancient yet his physical presence was as commanding as ever.
"Paris, if you'd let me provide more context-" Mika kept his voice steady even as alarm bells were screaming in his mind. He was used to feeling powerful, in control of every situation. This sudden humiliation felt like a surprise ice bath.
"- I can't believe this! I thought surely this had to be Arrow's idea of a very unfunny joke! Of all the stupid, reckless, harebrained-"
About two minutes into the conversation, Mika felt like he was 25 years old again and had just broken an ancient and irreplaceable artifact. Maybe "conversation" was too strong a word. It wasn't so much of a conversation as it was Mika standing there and weathering Paris's righteous fury like a ship in a storm.
"-a BABY in Vampire Mountain?! Have you been drinking? How could you be so irresponsible? I've never known you to be this outright stupid, so why on earth have you started now?!"
"I know it's not ideal. But-"
"So you were aware you were actively making the single most imbecilic decision of your entire career when you abducted that baby and proceeded to turn the Hall of Princes into your own daycare centre? Are you trying to undermine the reputation you worked for?"
Of course Mika was Paris's equal by vampire laws, yet he'd never felt less like a Prince. He was standing in front of the thrones, at the bottom of the platform stairs as if he was a disgraced civilian on trial, rather than a noble ruler. He stood still as a statue while Paris seethed and cussed. Kurda stood a few feet away, wringing his hands anxiously and looking as uncomfortable as Mika felt. Arrow was standing behind Mika, ever a dutiful friend. He held Gracie in his arms and kept her quietly busy while Mika tried to talk Paris down.
"Is being a Prince suddenly not enough for you? You felt compelled to test your skills at parenting too? My gods, Mika! What is wrong with you?!" Paris continued vehemently.
"We're not parenting her... it's temporary." Mika sighed. He could've tried harder to get a word in edgewise, but he knew there was no point until Paris calmed down. His ancient mentor had a long fuse, but on the rare occasion when the fuse was lit... the fireworks show was pretty intense.
"Look at her! She's not even old enough to walk, and you brought her back to one of the most dangerous places on earth!" Paris ranted, pointing a shaking finger at the oblivious little girl in Arrow's arms. "Are you happy, Mika? Are you proud of yourself?"
That touched a nerve. It broke the spell that had kept Mika subdued and respectful until now. Those words brought back the same acidic sting of frustration, the sick burning shame Mika felt upon walking into that house and finding the victims of the mad vampaneze.
"No, Paris!" Mika snarled back. "If you'd give me a chance to speak, I could tell you that she lost her entire family because I didn't track a mad vampaneze quickly enough! Two parents, and four kids! Murdered in their own home! Because of me!" He could hear his voice creeping up in volume with every word, but he didn't care. "And you're right, I probably wasn't thinking clearly! Maybe it was a terrible idea! And it's very possible that I did in fact ruin her life! But I can assure you I'm not fucking proud of myself!" Mika was shouting at the top of his lungs by the time he'd finished. His heart raced, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd yelled at Paris. Had he ever yelled at Paris?
Paris stopped pacing, and slowly descended the steps from the throne platform til he was eye-level with Mika. He still hadn't spared Kurda so much as a glance.
"So what's next, then?" Paris growled. "You've acknowledged your mistake. Now how are you going to fix this, Mika?"
Mika knew Kurda had been right - ultimately they were in this together, which meant Kurda should have been taking half of the brunt. But Paris had always held Mika to a standard that no one else, not even Arrow was expected to top. So Mika knew damn well if came in here claiming this wasn't entirely his own fault, Paris would've admonished him for trying to shift the blame to a General. So Mika decided to skip over that entirely - it'd just mean they'd be in here that much longer. The path of least resistance was for Mika to take responsibility and wait for it to be over.
"I've been trying to tell you. We're taking care of her until we can come up with a long-term plan. What would you have done, Paris?" Mika sighed.
"Leave her with the humans, of course! Charna's Guts! What is so complicated about that?" Paris grunted.
"Yes, it was a possibility." Said Mika. "That was our first instinct. Like I said before, we went to the orphanage. It was a horrible place, I wouldn't have left a tarantula in there."
"And was that the last remaining orphanage in the country? The world?" Paris spat, pacing again.
"I don't expect it was, no." Mika responded dejectedly.
"The next town over would have been no better." Kurda spoke up. "Nor the next one after that. The entire country is suffering. Drugs, gangs, corruption in the government-"
"Who's idea was it?" Paris cut him off, glaring from Mika to Kurda and back again.
"It was a mutual agreement." Said Mika immediately. Paris shrewdly looked him in the eye but the younger Prince didn't falter. Kurda blushed, but no one was looking at him. Bringing Gracie home was ultimately his idea. Although getting Mika on board hadn't taken much convincing. "We looked at our options, and I made the call." Mika continued "I felt I had no choice but to take responsibility for-"
"Responsibility?!" Paris laughed thunderously. "Let me tell you about responsibility. How old was I when I was blooded into the clan, Mika?"
Mika felt himself shrivel up inside. He'd known this was coming - because he knew exactly why this was a touchy topic for Paris.
"Two." Said Mika despondently, looking down at his feet.
"And how old is the girl you brought back with you?"
Mika groaned inwardly.
"Younger than that." He muttered.
Paris walked back up the steps, sat down on his throne and sighed.
"I didn't get a choice when I was blooded, Mika. Most vampires reach a crossroads in their lives where they are presented with an opportunity to choose between their humanity and a life with the clan. Like you did! I know, because I'm the one who initiated you. You knew exactly what you were getting into. But I had that privilege taken away from me. All because someone else decided they were 'responsible' for me."
Paris's anger seemed to be abating. But it was replaced with disappointment which Mika quickly decided was much worse. His face began to burn and he had to look away from Paris.
"But that isn't fair!" Kurda protested, and Mika cringed. "We aren't taking that decision away from her, Sire Skyle. Never once have we said anything about blooding her. The option isn't even on the table! You can't place all the blame on Mika - I was the first one to suggest bringing her home."
"Shut up, Kurda." Mika growled under his breath.
Paris arched an eyebrow.
"Is General Smahlt correct, Mika? Was this his idea?"
Mika shot Kurda a glare, then answered,
"It's true that Smahlt was the first one to say what we were both thinking."
Paris nodded contemplatively, then looked back at Kurda.
"And how do you feel about this, Kurda?" Paris continued. "Did the mission truly fail because Sire Ver Leth failed to do his job? And please, be honest. Brutally, even. I'd welcome it."
"My opinion is that failure is the wrong word for any of this." Kurda began steadily. "What happened to those humans was a worst-case scenario. Not to mention we lost three of our own Generals-"
"Pardon my manners, but that sounds like failure to me." Paris remarked coolly.
"It was a difficult situation." Kurda continued. "Killing a vampaneze unnecessarily would have dangerous ramifications upon the peace treaty as it currently stands. My priority was to confirm whether the vampaneze was mad before we took action, so we took a few days to scout the sites where the Generals were killed. I wanted to give the vampaneze the benefit of the doubt, for the sake of peace-"
Mika glanced at Kurda out of the corner of his eye. He'd seen Kurda in action during plenty of meetings and negotiations, but he had to admit he was impressed by how well the mild-mannered pacifist was keeping his cool under Paris's wrath.
"- whereas Mika considered the evidence we had, and felt it would be most effective to operate under the assumption that our target vampaneze was indeed mad, and proceed to track and eliminate him. If I'd trusted Mika's instincts, we would've gotten to the vampaneze before he got to the human family."
Paris's eyes roamed back to Mika, and they were radiating exasperation. He threw his arms up and scoffed loudly,
"Diplomacy is supposed to be your strong suit, Mika. You've been leading negotiations with the vampaneze since before Smahlt was a General! Yet he was the only one taking the treaty into consideration? And since when do you let anyone else call the shots?! You barely take direction from your fellow Princes, much less the Generals! Much less Kurda Smahlt!"
Mika laughed bitterly.
"Like I said... no matter how you look at it, it's my fault. So let's stop wasting each other's time. I only took this mission because Vancha broke his leg the day before we left!" Said Mika, frost in his voice. "But he specifically wanted Smahlt to run point on this, so he could assess him. Why Vancha wanted to assess Kurda, I have no fucking idea-"
"You are in no position to be that condescending." Said Paris, narrowing his bright blue eyes. Mika glared back.
"To make a long story short, this all could have been avoided if I hadn't been so dead-set on trying to prove something when the odds suggested I was wrong." Kurda interjected. "Where the mission itself is concerned, Mika was simply trying to honour Vancha's request and assess how I performed in a high-stakes situation. He should not be faulted for that."
"Smahlt wasn't wrong to take the treaty into consideration." Mika admitted. And those words tasted awful on his tongue. "It's true we aren't in a position to be confronting vampaneze without a damn good reason. If we'd attacked and he turned out to be sane after all, it could've made things really complicated. We both did the best we could with the information we had."
Paris nodded again. He looked back and forth at both of them, as though doing some serious contemplating.
"And when we got to the house and realized what happened, as a result of what we didn't do..." Kurda spoke up again. His voice faltered slightly but his composure didn't. "Well, we did the best we could with that too." He finished, looking Paris dead in the eye.
"I believe that." Said Paris gruffly after a moment of consideration. "But know this: You wouldn't have brought back her here if you weren't prepared to have some extent of involvement in her life. So what now, you raise her as a human in the world of vampires? She'll be exposed to years of violence and rituals that have no place in her world. When she's finally old enough to leave the nest, she'll have no idea how to function as a human! And if she stays here unblooded, she will be living as a vampire with none of the advantages that come with it! Is that what you want?"
Neither Mika nor Kurda had the mental fortitude to attempt a counter argument. Kurda hung his head in shame while Mika stared at a crack in the wall and wished he could crawl in and disappear. Paris was ever the North Star in his life, his guiding light. He adored the man but gods damn, did he ever know how to make Mika feel small. But the hardest pill to swallow was that the old man wasn't wrong.
"Sire Skyle, with all due respect, I'm asking you to trust we're going to do right by her. I want her to stay in the mountain under our care until we're able to come up with a long term plan. Something that'll give her the best possible chance at a good life." Mika offered, desperate to get out of this room.
"Oh, don't you Sire Skyle me." Paris snorted. "You're not a cub anymore. You've had your own throne for almost a century! Yet you're standing in front of me like a sorry little boy. I am not in charge of you. Make your own decisions."
"They meant well, Paris." Arrow ventured cautiously as he gently rocked Grace in his arms. She was babbling softly and tugging at his shirt with great interest. "Whatever happens, I hope you'll show Mika the same support you gave me when I chose to leave the mountain and marry Sarah."
Arrow's heart was in the right place but he was quickly shut down.
"Arrow, that is like comparing apples and codfish." Paris snapped impatiently. "There are no similarities to be drawn between this situation and that."
Arrow mumbled a halfhearted apology and went back to playing with Grace. Mika respected his attempt. Arrow never brought up the subject of his wife lightly.
"Well, of course you can't compare those two situations. Because one's Arrow, and one's me." Mika fired back at Paris, suddenly bristling all over again.
"And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?" Said Paris indignantly. His eyes were blazing far more dangerously than should've been possible for such an old man.
"You know exactly what I mean." Mika growled. He didn't give an inch. "If Arrow or Vancha showed up here with a kid, you'd slap them on the wrist, have a laugh and get on with your life! Don't insult me by pretending you hold me to the same standard when we both know that's never been true."
Mika heard Arrow sigh behind him, because after spending most of their lives together, Arrow sure as hell knew Mika was right. Not that Paris wasn't tough on everyone he mentored, but somehow he always found another gear where Mika was concerned.
"Do you want to go there, Mika?" Paris responded, voice even and cold. "Is that the fight you want to pick with me right here and now?" He stood up from his throne once again and fixed Mika with a blistering gaze.
"It's not a fight when I have over 200 years of evidence to back myself up." Said Mika, with a harsh laugh. "But you're right, I don't actually want to open that door today. Because we're done here."
He left before Paris could dismiss him.
Arrow and Kurda didn't linger in the Hall of Princes either. Arrow whisked Grace away on a piggy-back ride to give Mika and Kurda a chance to speak uninterrupted. They made their way to the Hall of Khledon Lurt where Mika wasted no time pouring a tall mug of ale for himself.
"I didn't know Paris got angry. Much less that angry." Kurda remarked lightly.
"Fuck, you have no idea." Mika snorted derisively and shook his head. "I love that man, he's been like a father to me. But gods forbid I make one questionable decision. He's acting like we've already blooded the kid. I don't know what part of "this is a temporary fix" he doesn't understand."
"Is he really that much tougher on you than Arrow and Vancha?" Kurda ventured. There was a cautious sort of curiosity in his eyes. Like he felt awkward bringing it up - but couldn't resist.
Mika sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair, resting his elbows on the table.
"He had high expectations. We all made mistakes over the years but he was always more disappointed when it was me." Said Mika, staring resentfully down into his mug. "He always knew exactly where to set the bar so I never quite reached it. No matter what I did, once I got close he raised it just a little higher. So I'd put in the work, do everything I could to take on the best training opportunities... then half the time he'd pass me over for someone with half my skill set. Just to see how bad I really wanted it."
"Ah." Said Kurda sardonically. "So that's why you're a pathologic overachiever. It all makes sense now. My heart bleeds for the emotional torment that paved your road to glory."
"Hey, you asked." Mika grunted.
"Whatever. Enough about you." Said Kurda, waving a hand. "No matter what anyone says, we did the right thing with Gracie. That's all we need to take away from this."
"Did we, though?" Mika slammed his mug down on the table. "Why didn't we just find the least shitty house in town and leave her on the doorstep?"
"We've been over this! It's not that simple and you know it!" Said Kurda. "You saw just as much devastation in that city as I did. Remember all the needles on the ground? And their government doesn't give a damn about any of it! We couldn't take that chance!"
"I can't believe you talked me into this." Said Mika, ignoring Kurda's entire spiel. The blond narrowed his eyes.
"I didn't exactly twist your arm, you prick." Kurda snarled, dropping his usual front of amenability. "I told you what I thought we should do, and you essentially said 'sounds good, let's go'! We have an equal stake in this. So you had better think long and hard next time you try to shift the blame. Especially considering I spoke out of turn to Paris for your sake. I risked my good standing so I might share the blame with you."
"I don't need you to defend me!" Mika shot back, feeling white-hot indignation flare up within his very soul. "I distinctly recall telling you to keep your mouth shut and let me handle it. All you had to do was nothing! And you couldn't even do that! Gods, Smahlt! This would be so much easier if you'd just listen to me!"
"Excuse you, Sire." Said Kurda through gritted teeth. "I seem to recall you also telling me there are no ranks in parenting. That we were on equal ground, for her. That you were all in, even though that included me."
"I KNOW, Smahlt!"
"Why are you so touchy about this? You knew Paris would have some thoughts." Kurda continued venomously. "So he felt more strongly than you anticipated, so what? It's not like you actually have to face consequences for anything you do! Unlike me!"
"Which is why I told you to keep your mouth shut!" Mika bellowed, his strained temper finally winning. "I know it's hard to comprehend, because you think I'm a heartless barbarian, but I was actually trying to make YOUR life easier. My fucking mistake! Won't happen again!"
"Wow, my hero!" Kurda retorted scathingly, rolling his blue eyes which were suddenly much chillier than usual. "How could I possibly repay you?!"
"Maybe start with a thank you?" Said Mika. He rolled his eyes right back - he hadn't missed Kurda's sarcasm, but he did ignore it.
"Listen up, Sire Ver Leth." Kurda snapped. "I know you can scatter most vampires around here with just a dirty look, but believe me when I tell you I am not most vampires. I respect you most days, but I am not intimidated by you. You don't get an award for showing basic decency. Not from me."
Mika felt a low simmer of irritation at Kurda's sharp words, but decided he was over it for the day. He slowly drained his mug while regarding Kurda out of the corner of his eye contemplatively. When the amber liquid was gone, he set the mug back down and folded his arms on the table.
"Is that it, then? Any other thoughts you'd like to share?" Mika inquired casually with a raised eyebrow. "Don't hold back. Tell me how you really feel."
"I just did." Said Kurda smoothly. Mika's face was impassive as ever but his posture softened slightly. A smug little smile worked its way across Kurda's face when he realized his point had hit home.
"Have you been waiting for an opportunity to say that?" Mika snorted.
"You'll never know."
"Nor will I care." Said Mika. Then he stood up abruptly. "I'm going to go get Gracie back from Arrow before he gets her started on throwing boomerangs."
"Alright." Said Kurda. "I have to go meet with Vanez - he wants to review my blueprints for the new armoury. I'll meet up with you in a bit. Then we can spend another hour trying to convince her to eat, only to cave and feed her biscuits again. Deal?"
Mika nodded grimly, and they parted ways.
Kurda's meeting with Vanez didn't take nearly as long as he anticipated, so he set about tracking Mika and Gracie down. Where the suppertime battle was concerned, it was best to get an early start. There was no telling how long it would take.
Kurda heard Gracie's shrill giggle coming from one of the armoury rooms between the sparring halls, so he followed the noise all the way down the corridor. He paused at the doorway - Mika and Arrow were sitting on a bench, but they were so wrapped up in their own conversation they had no idea Kurda had approached. Arrow was sitting lazily on the end of the bench, back against the wall as he lovingly polished one of his massive bladed boomerangs. Mika was sitting a few feet away, holding Gracie who was gnawing on one of her colourful teething rings.
Kurda slipped behind the wall, out of sight before they saw him. Mika was bitchy enough to his face - it'd be fascinating to hear what he said when he thought Kurda couldn't hear him.
"- but honestly, I think that went as well as could be reasonably expected." Arrow was saying. "I think we all just forgot how opinionated he can be. He's not usually like that, so it makes it feel harsher than it actually was."
"I thought he was going to dethrone me or something." Mika replied, sounding much more subdued than usual.
"He can't do that." Arrow sighed. "It'd have to be unanimous among all the Princes. And I'd never vote to dethrone you. Who else would telepathically talk shit with me during meetings?"
"I know he can't dethrone me, Arrow!" Mika sounded extremely stressed now. "Gods, you're awful with rhetorical questions. And don't swear in front of the kid."
"Well, you're awful in general today. Also, you swear in front of the kid at least once an hour." Arrow huffed back. "Go take a nap or something." There was a beat of silence, then Arrow added much more tactfully, "Oh. Still having nightmares, huh?"
Another beat of silence, and Kurda heard Mika sigh.
"Every fucking night, A. It's been a month." Came Mika's voice, suddenly low and strained. "I close my eyes and they're right there. All six of them, dead at my feet. I didn't even know them. Gods, out all the shit I've seen and done in my life... nothing's ever gotten to me like this."
"Seeing a handful of murdered children will have that effect." Arrow murmured. "It'd be more concerning if it didn't get to you."
Silence again.
"How'd you make your nightmares stop... back then?" Said Mika after a while.
There was a muffled thumping sound that suggested Arrow was patting Mika on the back or shoulder.
"You don't make them stop." Arrow chuckled sadly. "Focus on what you can do while you're awake. You're already a great Prince. One bad mission doesn't change that. You're also a great temporary guardian, or fake dad, or whatever it is you're calling yourselves. Look how happy she is in your arms."
Kurda heard Mika exhale slowly.
"I just want her to be safe." His voice was barely more than a murmur. He sounded dejected.
"Of course she'll be safe! She's with you." Said Arrow. "And stop telling yourself it's all your fault. You saved her. Nothing can take that away from you."
Kurda had no idea Arrow could speak with such kindness, but it was just him and Mika in there so maybe it wasn't so surprising. Either way, Kurda decided he was done eavesdropping for the day. He headed back up to the Hall of Khledon Lurt.
Mika joined him twenty minutes later, with Gracie in tow. Mika still looked irritable, but then again that was more or less how he usually looked. Gracie, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree as soon as she saw Kurda. And Kurda instantly felt his own face do the same. He didn't even have to think about it. It was an automatic reaction.
That was the thing neither Mika nor Kurda had seen coming; how quickly Gracie learned to recognize both of them. Even from the other side of a room. Any time she saw Kurda while Mika was holding her, or vice-versa, she'd hold up her chubby little arms and wave them eagerly while making a shrill laughy-squeal noise until they were reunited. She didn't seem to favour one of them over the other, which was good. But she did seem happiest when she was receiving attention from both of them simultaneously. Which was kind of unfortunate, seeing as Mika and Kurda had planned on staying in their own lanes and only seeing each other for the few minutes per day it took to swap her back and forth.
Mika sat down about an arm's length away, then gave Gracie a quick kiss on the top of the head before handing her over to Kurda.
"Hello there, sunshine!" Kurda greeted her, wrapping her in a tight hug. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring how warm she was and how happily she snuggled against him.
"I think she might be hungry enough to eat the slop this time." Mika commented tonelessly. "Arrow was eating jerky down in the sporting halls, then he gave me a piece and she just about chewed my arm off trying to get at it."
Kurda's eyes went as wide as dinner plates.
"Mika, I swear to the gods, if you gave jerky to a one-year-old -"
"Of course I didn't give jerky to a one-year-old! How incompetent do you think I am?"
"I don't think you're incompetent. There is no reason to be that defensive." Kurda groaned, rubbing his temples. But then to his surprise, Mika laughed. It was a little chilly, but a laugh all the same.
"Isn't there? Are you absolutely sure about that? Because you're looking at me like I just said something truly horrendous. So I feel like I'm allowed to be a little defensive." Said Mika.
And then, despite his best efforts, Kurda laughed too.
"Fine. You can be a little defensive." He chuckled ruefully. Then he glanced pointedly over at Mika. "And I'm sorry. I know you're not an idiot. You're actually really good with her. Even I can admit that."
Mika narrowed his eyes, as though he detected something suspicious about Kurda's statement but couldn't quite put his finger on it. But then he relaxed and seemed to accept the compliment. Although he didn't return it, unsurprisingly.
Then they went about recommencing the meal battle that had become all too familiar in recent history. And this was no different than the last attempt.
And then, Kurda tried something. He slowly raised the spoon of baby mush up to Gracie's mouth, which remained stubbornly closed. Then at the last second, he diverted from his path and spooned it into his own mouth. He'd already tried leading by example earlier that night, to no avail. But this time he made it a game. He'd hold it out to her, almost teasingly. Then he'd double back and eat it himself. She watched him closely, looking increasingly frustrated that Kurda was indulging in what was rightfully hers.
"This is starting to look like psychological torment." Mika remarked.
And then, finally, Gracie made a little growly-whine sound of displeasure, and reached towards the spoon in Kurda's hand.
"Oh, honey!" Kurda gasped in pretend surprise. "I'm so sorry! Did you want some of this? You should've said something sooner!"
That was it. Kurda held the spoon up to her mouth again, and she cleaned it in one slurp. Then another one, and another one. Until the bowl was empty.
"And that's how it's done." Kurda declared, shooting a smug smile in Mika's direction.
"Wow. Alright, then." Said Mika, still looking stunned. "Mind games work. I'll remember that."
"She's going to be a force of nature. Did you see how she stared at me when she realized I was stealing her food? I didn't know babies could glare!" Kurda laughed, grinning down at her. She was standing in his lap now, holding her spoon and drumming it against the wooden table like she was a one-woman band.
"How'd you think to try that?" Mika asked, as he gently pried the spoon out of Gracie's flailing hand before it ended up in somebody's eye.
"Don't let it go to your head, but I thought of what you said about Paris." Kurda admitted, with a wry grin. "How when he held something out of your reach and gave it to someone else, it made you want it that much more. All I did was apply the same concept to the baby food."
Mika's expression shifted from skeptical to outright flabbergasted.
"So... you want her to turn out exactly like me. That's what I'm hearing." He told Kurda once he'd picked his jaw up from the table.
"Don't reach so far, you might hurt yourself." Said Kurda, raising an eyebrow and shooting Mika a rather disparaging grimace. "Last thing we need is a miniature you running around. This place is barely big enough for your attitude, let alone hers."
"Because it'd be so much better for her to turn out like you?" Said Mika. "Wandering around with her face buried in a map, bumping into things..."
Kurda slapped his palm to his forehead in exasperation.
"Charna's guts! At least then she'd have one useful skill set! By the way, cartography is not my entire identity!" He informed Mika seriously.
"I'm not an idiot, Smahlt." Said Mika. He countered Kurda's indignation with a lazy, self-satisfied smirk. "I know you're also a pacifist. That's your entire identity."
Kurda had a cutting retort locked and loaded about at least he was known for something deeper than a big ego and a monochromatic wardrobe - which is more than anyone can say for you, Mika. The comment would've been a hell of a zinger, but then Gracie began to hiccup. And that was a new phenomenon which required their full attention. So within seconds, all thoughts of verbal warfare against each other had been forgotten.