Chapter 10! This contains a brief scene that featured as a flashback in an early Bloodline chapter but the rest is all brand new.

PS - for anyone following Bloodline, I swear I haven't given up on it. It's slow going but I'm making progress. The fact that I'm working on this on the side probably doesn't help, but this story is like my reward.

Chapter 10: All In A Day's Work

There's a certain amount of power, glory and dare we say, a vampiric equivalent of glamour that comes with being a Prince. The prestige, the parties, the recognition, the fun shit. Because who doesn't want to be a celebrity that doubles as an authoritarian leader? When Mika says he loves his job and there's nothing on earth he'd rather be doing, that's what he's referring to.

He's not referring to the dark moments. The hard moments. The moments where the weight of responsibility feels less like privilege and more like punishment. The moments that either keep him from falling asleep, or wake him up in a cold sweat every now and then. They're few and far between, but when they hit… gods, they hit hard.

The moments like today, when a promising young General prospect named Dane Barnes came so close to passing his Trials of Initiation with flying colours. So close that Mika was already thinking about how good the cold drinks at the afterparty would taste that night. In fact, the prospect's mentor - Doran Lockheed, an old friend of Mika's - had even been sitting right there in the stands beside him. Mika and Doran had once trained parallel to each other and eventually completed their own trials in the same year, back in the day.

Then Dane tripped at the finish line, literally. His final task was to scale a sheer rock wall at the end of an obstacle course, atop which lay the audience loudly cheering him on. He was maybe an arm's length from the top, and his foot slipped. One slippery stone was the difference between promotion and execution. Dane fell fifty feet to the floor, sustaining only minor injuries. But Mika desperately wished the fall had killed him, because either way it was a clear-cut failure. There was no technicality, no tampering, no grey area. There was only the law.

Doran Lockheed, a seasoned General, knew the rules as well as Mika did. But nothing could've prepared Mika for the gut-wrenching despair on Doran's face the moment Mika officially confirmed what the entire audience already knew - Dane failed the trial, and would face execution.

Dane didn't beg for a second chance, or for the rules to be bent. He didn't even try to fight for his life because he'd consented to the Trials of Initiation with the understanding and acknowledgement of the terms and conditions that came with them, for better or worse. This was "worse", and Mika had the fortune (yeah, right) of being the Prince on duty for it.

This wasn't Mika's first rodeo. He'd completed the trials himself as he rose through the ranks, just like the majority of his friends and acquaintances. Most passed. A few failed. Like Dane, all of them knew exactly what they were signing up for. And when Mika took it one step further and upgraded his title from General to Prince, he did so with the understanding that his new job description would inevitably entail being the darkest chapter in someone else's story every now and then. Because more often than not his hands were tied by rules set by his predecessors' predecessors.

Dane looked Mika in the eye and accepted his fate with honour and dignity, and away he went to the Hall of Death. But whether you're a Prince, a cub, or anything in between, the sound of that cage and the vampire in it making contact with the bottom of the stake pit… there's no poetic metaphor for something like that. It's awful. Plain and simple.

Mika wasn't the one manning the rope; there were staff for that. But for the amount of difference it made, he might as well have been the one letting go. Dane was stoic until the very end. But the sound of his mentor's cries of grief would play on a loop in Mika's nightmares for the next three nights in a row.

Mika didn't go back to the Hall of Princes to deliver a report after the execution. Everyone would've heard all about it by now. There were very few things that could cause Mika to end his work day early, but the only coherent thought in his mind was to go hide out in his room and let the rest of the world fade away. If this happened a year ago, he would've gotten drunk or something. Maybe with Arrow, maybe alone. Didn't really matter. But now he had Gracie.

"Wow, you're back early! Must've been an easy night for you. Ah well, makes my life easier." an oblivious Kurda greeted him with a frazzled smile as Mika made his way into the three-room suite they shared. "I was just about to bring Gracie up to you in the Hall of Princes. I have that long bylaw conference with all the visiting Generals so that's going to take… well, I have no idea how long it's going to take. You have nothing else on your schedule tonight, right?"

Must've been an easy night for you.

"No." Mika replied hollowly.

"Good. Listen, Gracie's sleep schedule's getting more and more out of whack. She was up so late last night, I thought she was going to chew my arm off when I woke her up earlier. So I really, really need you to make sure she's asleep by a half-decent hour tonight. I know I rejected Seba's suggestion to rub whiskey on her gums, but I'm running out of ideas. I'm not saying you should try it. But I am saying if she smells like an old drunk when I get back, I won't question it."

Kurda was so focused, so keyed-up for his conference that he didn't even glance at Mika as he swirled around his room, packing the last of his supplies into his bag.

"Got all that?" Kurda added as he finally headed for the doorway.

"Yeah." Mika answered monotonously. If it was any other time, Kurda might've picked up on how withdrawn Mika was, but he was completely preoccupied with his upcoming meeting. Mika didn't hold it against Kurda in the slightest - the last thing he wanted to do was talk about feelings. Suffering in silence is the vampire way and it had worked out pretty well so far.

"Great. Have fun, Gracie! Daddy loves you so much." Said Kurda, kneeling to the floor to kiss Gracie's forehead while she coloured.

"Loves you!" Gracie echoed, eyes sparkling because her world was so simple, so safe and she had no idea how dark and shitty everything actually was.

Kurda disappeared, and then there were two.

"Hey, you." Mika rasped as he sat down beside Gracie. "Did I miss anything exciting?"

"U'corn!" Gracie declared, holding up her drawing.

"Ah, yes. Best abstract take on unicorns I've ever seen. What's it like having so much raw talent?"

The cold stone floor wasn't exactly comfortable or inviting, but Gracie was beyond content to be sitting there surrounded by a sea of art supplies. So Mika found himself just laying on the floor a few feet away, eye-level with Gracie as she worked on her masterpiece of the day. She was more focused on her latest unicorn than she was on Mika, but he didn't mind. For a single moment suspended in time, he was almost able to block out everything else. But when he closed his eyes for a second, it was all there waiting for him. The preceding optimism. The crushing secondhand disappointment he'd felt as acutely as though he'd been the one taking the trial. And finally, numb helplessness. Because for all his coveted power and glory, sometimes he felt like he really wasn't all that powerful.

All in a day's work.

Eventually he'd have to go back. He'd take up the mantle of Sire once again and walk out this door, leaving Dad here in this room. Mika would never regret the years of work he'd put towards his achievements. It was an honour and a privilege to have such immense responsibility, and it wasn't one he took lightly. But every now and then, there'd be a night like this. When it was so much easier to just be Dad, when the cruelest thing he ever had to do was cut Gracie off from cookies for the night. And sometimes that didn't even come easily.

"Daddy! Make u'corn!" Gracie's tiny but determined voice pulled Mika back to his senses, and he silently thanked her for it. Because this moment would be over far too soon and he needed to exist here in the present. Not the past. Not the future. Here on the floor, drawing unicorns with his favourite person in the world. She was pushing a handful of crayons towards him, so he smiled and selected a pink one.

"Okay, Princess. It won't be as nice as yours, but I'll try my best."

In almost three hundred years, Mika could honestly say he had never endeavoured to draw a unicorn. And it was harder than he'd expected. Being a perfectionist, he wanted it to be lifelike. Growing up wealthy in the seventeenth century, he'd been around plenty of carriage horses with graceful legs and long manes. All he had to do was draw one of those from memory, then add a horn. But bringing that vision to life was apparently impossible. He thought he had a pretty good eye for this type of thing but clearly he thought wrong. It wasn't that he didn't know his way around a pen and paper - he was a world-class speech writer, after all. But drawing?! How the fuck did Kurda make all those maps and scale diagrams look so effortless? Even Kurda's unicorn art from earlier was good - in a caricatured, animated kind of way. Mika decided right then and there he'd better stick to drafting laws, signing documents, and writing speeches.

"No, Daddy. Draw feet first!" Gracie chided him as though he was an absolute simpleton missing the easiest concept in the world. Then she slapped her palm against her forehead in exasperation, which made it clear she paid closer attention to Mika's mannerisms than he'd realized.

"Sure, now you tell me. After I'd already started on the face." Mika snorted. "I already know you draw the best unicorns in the whole mountain. You didn't have to sabotage me to prove it."

She wrinkled her little nose and grinned mischievously back at him, as if the word 'sabotage' was already in her small but growing vocabulary. Then she pulled the crayon out of Mika's hand and told him very sternly,

"I draw u'corn. Daddy just colour."

"Charna's guts. I know it was a rough first try but you can't demote me that quickly."

"Just colour." she repeated firmly, looking Mika dead in the eye.

"Wow, you're a mercilessly effective project manager. Please don't take my job, Gracie. It's all I have."

So they sat on the floor, and they made unicorns. Or more accurately, Gracie scribbled large, abstract shapes that Mika had to assume were unicorns, then she passed the sheet to him to colour in. Normally Mika wasn't into this type of thing. Fine art was more Kurda's arena - Mika preferred bonding via physical activities like playing tag or catch, or giving piggy-backs rides. But he had to admit there was something therapeutic about this. Eventually he felt clear-headed enough to relocate to his desk and make a bit of progress on the stack of paperwork that was waiting for him there. Gracie followed him like a pink-clad shadow so she could sit on the desk and continue drawing there. Mika figured he should probably get the carpenters to make her a little high chair for this purpose, because the more she grew, the more space she took up on his desk. Or he could get a bigger desk.

An hour or so passed. They partook in a bedtime snack, then Mika figured it was time for Gracie to call it a day. Mika would get in another hour of paperwork before retiring to his coffin and putting this difficult night behind him forever. But at least he could end it on a good note.

"Okay, Princess. Time for bed." Said Mika. He stood up from his chair and prepared to pick her up. As if she knew exactly how little willpower Mika had left, Gracie looked up with the most utterly betrayed look on her face, eyes wide and innocent.

"No bed."

"Why not? Aren't you tired after all that?"

"Want to stay with Daddy!"

Mika sighed, and sat back down.

"Well, shit. You've got me there. You can have another hour, but you have to help me initial this stack of assessments."

"I help!"

"Okay, you know your alphabet, right?"

"ABC's?!"

"How about the ones that come after that?"

"D, E, F, G-" she carried on and completed the whole thing seamlessly, and Mika obliged her with some light applause.

"Perfect. Just write the letters M -V - L. Right there on that line. No, wait. That's not even close. Yikes. Just give me the pencil back. Gods, I could've sworn your other dad said he was teaching you this. Guess I have to do everything myself. Just have a cookie and let me do it."

Kurda's conference that night left him exhausted and frazzled, so he really didn't feel like having the bedtime battle again. He anticipated this in advance, which was why he gently suggested that Mika do his absolutely damnedest to make sure Gracie went to sleep at a reasonable hour. After all, they both had a lot to do the following day. Council was just under a year away now, and preparations were in full swing. Keeping Gracie on a regular sleep schedule was just one of the many small ways they could make their own lives easier.

Backstory - i.e. why Kurda felt he really needed to go out of his way to drive this concept into Mika's brain:

Last year Kurda began this endeavour with some concerns about what Mika's parenting style might look like. In the early weeks of their accidental adoption, Kurda assumed the notoriously moody Prince would be something of a drill sergeant when it came to raising a child. After all, Mika never hesitated to bring the hammer down on any member of the vampire clan when required. Kurda vividly remembered the day Dean Warwent coughed during a meeting when Mika happened to be having a bad day, and Dean was kicked out unceremoniously. With that said, Mika didn't exactly go out of his way to be unkind, he just had very little patience for shenanigans. Kurda hoped that wouldn't have a negative effect on a small child.

But that was a long time ago. Kurda realized very quickly that he shouldn't have worried. If anything, his biggest criticism of Mika's parenting style was how much patience he had for Gracie's shenanigans. He wished Dad Mika had even a fraction of Sire Ver Leth's take-control reflex. But somehow those two beings were entirely separate entities.

At first it was charming, seeing Mika bend to the whims of the sweet little girl who suddenly took up way too much room in both his and Kurda's hearts. It was a side of Mika that was totally foreign to Kurda. Sure, he figured Mika would take parenthood seriously, and probably be pretty competent at it. After all, that was just who he was as a person. What Kurda didn't anticipate was the level of pure, earnest devotion with which Mika went about it all.

And that was all well and good. Wonderful, even. But Kurda wasn't exactly effective in the role of Bad Cop either. And sometimes, a foot simply has to be put down. Especially when toddlers desire to play fast and loose with their bedtimes.

When Kurda walked into Mika's portion of their suite, he stopped in his tracks and slapped his palm to his forehead in dismay (because we all know Gracie didn't learn that move just from Mika). Both Mika and Gracie wide awake. That in itself wasn't a big deal. The big deal was that Mika had clearly been making no effort to convince her to go to bed. And the whole reason Kurda unleashed Gracie on her art supplies earlier was to provide a quiet, wind-down activity to help her transition more smoothly to bedtime. And Mika had thrown that plan out the window.

Mika was sitting at his desk, surrounded by a collection of abandoned paperwork. Gracie was sitting ON his desk, and they were arm wrestling. Their variation of arm-wrestling involved Gracie pitting her three-foot-tall body against Mika's arm. It always ended the same. Mika pretended to put up a fight, groaning dramatically as he let her pin his arm to the table and claim victory. Clearly Mika had missed his calling as a comedian because Gracie was belly-laughing as raucously as any drunk at the Festival Of The Undead. And Mika was not only enabling it, but encouraging it. At this hour. Like some kind of psychopath.

Kurda felt an overpowering sense of what he could only describe as wrathfulness. He felt like picking Mika up and flinging him into the sun for inevitably adding an extra hour to this night because judging by Gracie's shrieks of unrestrained glee, she was having the time of her life and would not be easily convinced to go to bed.

"Mika!" Kurda hissed as he walked in, with a highly uncharacteristic bite to his tone. "Are you kidding me?"

Mika glanced over his shoulder and gave Kurda a rueful sort of grimace. He knew he'd fucked up.

"Hi Daddy!" Grace called from the table. "We fight!"

"I see that! I'm so glad you're already being conditioned to equate violence with fun! " Said Kurda with very false cheerfulness, forcing a thin smile for her. "Baby girl, shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

"Daddy say we stay up!"

In the words of Mika Ver Leth himself: Pardon the fuck out of me?! At least, that's what Kurda wanted to say. But he restrained himself.

"Did he really?" Said Kurda through gritted teeth, looking daggers at Mika.

"I tried to put her to bed..." Mika spoke up apprehensively.

"Not very hard, apparently!" Said Kurda, keeping his voice falsely lighthearted for Gracie's benefit.

"She wanted stay up until I finished my paperwork, and-"

"I want world peace and a hot tub in the Hall of Perta Vin Grahl. We don't always get what we want." Kurda retorted, picking Gracie up and kissing her cheek while murdering Mika repeatedly with his eyes. "Enough is enough. This is the third time this week you've let her choose her own bedtime."

"I know..." Mika groaned, running his hand tiredly through his hair. But he didn't attempt to defend himself any further. Kurda shot him a scathing glare as he ushered Gracie off to the little room where her coffin was. Once there, there was a very dramatic standoff before Gracie was finally tucked into bed. It required five bedtime stories and three lullabies and by the time it was over, Kurda felt like a zombie but he got the job done. When he reappeared in Mika's cell, his anger peaked because in the time he'd been fighting that battle with Gracie, Mika hadn't moved from his desk and had gone back to his paperwork.

Mika glanced up as Kurda approached, looking resigned but not exactly apologetic.

"Please, Mika. Explain to me how one of the toughest, most accomplished vampires in clan history is so easily bullied by a toddler. Honestly, at first I worried you'd be too strict. But I think this might actually be worse. No, I take that back. It's definitely worse." Kurda fumed.

Mika let out a long, loud sigh of frustration as Kurda stood a few feet away, leaning against the cabinet, arms crossed and still glaring.

"Kurda, I had to order an execution today. And I really, really didn't feel good about it." Mika rasped after a long silence that suggested he struggled to admit even that minimal amount of emotional vulnerability. Kurda felt his outrage simmer down a notch - but just a notch.

"What happened?"

"We had a really promising young General prospect fail his last Trial of Initiation. One of my old friends' apprentices. Did really well til the end. He would've been one of the great ones. But it was a failure, and the rules are clear cut. So I did what I had to do. And I have to do stuff like that all the fucking time." Mika's demeanour was calm, but there was a distanced look in his eyes as if he was only half-present. Kurda arched an eyebrow, a little challengingly.

"I'm sorry you had to adhere to the systemic rules you've made it your life's work to uphold. I'm sure that was very traumatic for you. But I would think enforcing a small child's bedtime should feel easy by comparison. I could be wrong, though." Kurda didn't care he was opening a major can of worms by broaching the topic of clan policies. This had endless potential to get very heated, very quickly. For a moment, Mika's eyes blazed like he was going to take the bait Kurda was laying out, but then the fire faded and he just looked defeated.

"Never mind. You wouldn't understand. I'm sorry I let her sleep schedule go off the rails. I'll make a point of being stricter about it." Said Mika robotically, as if trying to hit the buzzword that would end this conversation.

"That's it?"

"What else do you want me to say, Kurda? It's been a long day. If you're looking for a fight, I'll give you a rain check." Mika didn't get up from his desk but he turned his back on Kurda, folded his arms on the mahogany surface and nestled his face into them wearily. Kurda got the sense Mika was dismissing him, but he didn't walk away. He studied Mika curiously for a moment. This was a little odd. Even though they got along better than they used to, there were still plenty of topics liable to start a debate, and Kurda surely pulled that trigger. For Mika not to fire back, he must be taking the events of the day harder than he was letting on. So Kurda decided to change his approach. Because he had a theory, and he was pretty sure he was right.

"You like having a break from all of it, don't you?" Kurda ventured.

"Break from what?"

"Having to be the one makes the hard calls. The kind that leaves you feeling like you did something awful, whether or not it was within your control. And Gracie gives you that break. I have plenty of thoughts on our hard-line execution policies, but that's a debate for another night. My personal opinions aside, I know you're not cruel or sadistic - I can only imagine the toll your responsibilities take on you."

Kurda felt a sliver of satisfaction knowing his words hit home - he could tell by the way Mika's posture stiffened, and the shrewd, calculating look in his eyes as he slowly raised his head and swivelled in his chair to stare Kurda down.

Kurda ambled over to Mika's desk, sat down on it, and picked up the bottle of fine whiskey Mika always kept handy. Despite Mika's sharp glare, Kurda uncorked it and took a long sip straight from the bottle. Then he grimaced at the strong taste. He was more of a wine person.

"Go right ahead. You know I love it when you use my one-of-a-kind furniture as a couch." Mika grunted sarcastically. "Also, I thought you said only barbarians drink straight from the bottle."

"I've told you a million times. Get a second chair if you don't want me sitting on your desk. Want some?" Kurda asked, raising his eyebrow and holding out the bottle.

"Yes, thank you for offering me my own liquor. So generous." Said Mika irritably as he took the bottle and downed an even longer gulp than Kurda had.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Kurda still on the desk and Mika a few feet away in his leather chair, pointedly not looking at Kurda.

"I hear you, Mika." Said Kurda at last. "I know how hard you work to separate the Dad stuff from the Prince stuff. But you have to remember Gracie has no concept of who you are to the clan. She only knows who you are to her."

Mika nodded, and shot Kurda a wayward glance.

"Sorry."

"Sometimes I forget you know that word." Said Kurda lightly. "No hard feelings. For such an arrogant prick, you're actually very hard on yourself. But it's not fair to leave all of the "no's" to me when I know you're more than capable of putting up a fight. I promise she won't hate you if you stand your ground once in a while."

"Are you sure?"

"All things considered, you're an astonishingly good parent. So yes, I'm absolutely sure."

Mika looked rather curiously across at Kurda.

"Do... do you actually think that?" He pressed, his steel grey eyes narrowing skeptically.

"No, I'm lying to stay on your good side." Kurda replied scathingly, rolling his eyes. "Of course I think you're a good parent, you idiot! You see how she lights up when you hold her. Not to mention the look on your face when she runs to you. You don't see that part, but I do. It's like... you complete each other."

"Really?"

Maybe Mika was just tired but there was a note of disbelief in his voice that was almost childlike. If Kurda hadn't seen his lips move, he wouldn't have believed the word came from him. No sarcasm. No derision. Just awe.

"Yes, really." Said Kurda wearily as Mika looked back at him, entranced. But Kurda was over it. Mika wasn't the only one who had a long, difficult night. But Mika could barely open up about his own issues - there was no way he was going to talk through Kurda's. So Kurda took one more sip from the bottle before handing it back to Mika and sliding off the desk.

"Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"Night." Mika echoed, before refocusing on his paperwork once again.

Eight hours later, Kurda was sitting at the Hall of Khledon Lurt enjoying a quick breakfast in the company of Gavner and Vanez before he had to rush off to a meeting. He was nibbling on some bread when a loud stream of off-key singing pulled his attention. He glanced up to see Mika casually sauntering in his direction with Gracie perched on his shoulder. The singing was coming from her, but Mika was humming along supportively.

Mika stopped at the table where Kurda sat. Kurda was chewing but he gave Mika a small wave. Gavner and Vanez also greeted him politely before carrying on with their meal. Mika nodded to them, then stood there with a very expectant look on his face. Gavner looked back up at him in confusion. Mika raised one eyebrow, looking slightly impatient. Gavner caught on, and sheepishly slid down the bench a few feet so Mika could take a seat directly across from Kurda who was rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself.

"There was plenty of room." Kurda chided him. You could've sat a foot and a half to the left."

"It's my spot." Said Mika. "Anyway, back to our conversation last night -"

"It's fine." Said Kurda quickly. "I completely overreacted. I was just tired-"

"No. Listen." Mika interrupted impatiently. "You're a good dad too."

"I… what?"

"I was thinking about what you told me. And I realized I've never told you before. But it's true. Just wanted you to be aware, in case you weren't sure." Mika continued as bluntly as if he was dismissing a clan business meeting rather than delivering a compliment.

"Wow." Said Kurda in disbelief, peering across at Mika who looked completely unfazed. "Are you drunk? Did you get into Vancha's mushroom stash?"

"I've told you I don't know where Vancha hides the mushrooms. Trust me, I've looked. And no. I should've told you last night after you said it to me - it would've been the nice thing to do. But I'm only half of this equation... and it takes two. So there you have it."

Kurda was at a loss for words for a moment.

"Thanks, Mika." He exhaled at last, feeling his face flush. "Seriously. That means the world to hear, you have no idea -"

Mika smiled wryly and gave Gracie a kiss on the cheek before standing up. She was still perched on his shoulders, laughing at the funny faces Gavner and Vanez were making from a few feet away.

"Okay, Smahlt. It was one compliment. Don't make it weird." Mika snorted as he turned to walk away with Gracie in tow.

"You're really something, you know that?" Kurda laughed weakly, blowing Gracie a kiss as she waved at him from Mika's shoulder.

"I'm aware. Oh, you're good to take her after lunch, right? She can sit in on my morning meetings with me but I have to go train some brats on the axe range after that."

"Yeah, no problem!" Kurda said slightly breathlessly, still astonished Mika had sought him out specifically to give him a compliment. "...Sire Ver Leth." He added as the other vampires in the vicinity gave him funny looks.

"What did I say about making it weird?" Mika called flippantly without turning around.

ONE MONTH LATER

Kurda had been waiting for an opportunity like this for years. The vampire clan was finally willing to send a group of diplomats to meet up with a vampaneze troop in France who wanted to discuss some amendments to the Peace Treaty. And they needed a General to oversee it all. But not just any General. These negotiations were difficult territory, and required a certain amount of diplomacy and familiarity for things to run smoothly.

And Paris had asked Kurda if he'd be willing to take it on. The offer sent Kurda's head spinning with excitement but he knew he had to rein himself in before he got his hopes up too high. Things weren't that simple anymore. It would be a long trip, three months or more. He had Gracie to think of, and by extension... Mika. Damn it.

They split all their duties 50/50 whenever possible, but naturally their demanding schedules required a bit of give and take. It had taken a lot of trial and error, but overall their dynamic as co-parents wasn't terrible. They had a reasonable amount of respect for each other, even if they didn't necessarily like each other all the time. But they'd both fallen head over heels in love with the orphan they'd rescued, and after almost a year together, neither of them could imagine their lives without her. That meant Mika was part of Kurda's life, and vice versa. Whether they wanted each other there or not.

The end of another long day in Vampire Mountain found them both in the Hall of Khledon Lurt. They hadn't seen each other all day, and only had a brief overlap before Kurda would put Gracie to bed and do some paperwork nearby for a few hours before going to bed himself. Meanwhile Mika would head up to the Hall of Princes and do Mika stuff while the rest of the mountain slept. He'd already been up the entire night and looked quite tired. Kurda was very ambitious and driven in his own right, but Mika literally never stopped. Kurda didn't know how he did it all. He seemed to be involved in just about everything yet was constantly on the lookout for opportunities to take on even more. And yet he still consistently met Kurda halfway where Gracie was concerned. In fact right now he was carefully braiding her hair and having an in-depth conversation with her about her day. He was supposed to be using this time to eat, but wasn't doing a very good job.

"Hey, Mika?" Said Kurda offhandedly from across the table after watching them for a few minutes.

"Mhm?" Mika didn't look up from the braid. Arra had given the two of them a crash course in braiding a while back, and to Kurda's irritation, he'd struggled at first while Mika had picked it up very quickly. (Mika is one of those people that are just naturally good at everything. Kurda finds it sort of obnoxious).

"Do you have any plans to leave the mountain during the next three to four months?" Kurda inquired.

"Gods, no." Mika scoffed. For a moment, Kurda felt a glimmer of hope. But then Mika kept talking. "I won't even have time to breathe with everything going on, much less step out for fresh air."

"Oh. What's on your calendar?" Kurda asked with a slight frown which Mika did not pick up on. He was still hard at work braiding and nodding in appreciation while Gracie sang a song of her own creation.

"Fuck, what isn't on my calendar?"

"Mika! Language!"

"Shit. Sorry."

"Impressive save, Dad." Kurda snorted sarcastically. Mika shrugged.

"Well, for starters Arrow and Paris are both going away, both to different places. Vancha's going to come stay for a bit but he's even worse at administrative stuff than Arrow so I don't expect much help from him. I'll basically be running the place on my own." Mika explained frankly. "We'll have six different people taking their Trials of Initiation in that time, and we'll finally be starting that expansion on the storage rooms Seba's been wanting for decades." Mika paused, having completed Gracie's braid. He looked over at Kurda. "Hey. Do you have any of the things with you?"

Kurda didn't have to think about what things Mika was referring to. He reached automatically into his pocket and withdrew a tiny hair elastic which he passed over.

"Thanks. Oh, and the sporting halls all need about a thousand repairs with Council coming up, so Vanez and I have to figure out a lot of logistics there." Mika continued. "And I have to keep tabs on all the youngbloods arriving early. They've already started to train and Paris will want updates on which ones we should be watching, and see if there's any I think are high enough caliber for me, or Arrow, or Vancha to take on. Do you want to hear more or can I eat this steak before it gets cold?"

"I get the picture." Said Kurda lightly. "I don't envy you."

Mika gave him a strange and slightly offended look, as though he felt his schedule was something worthy of envy.

"Why the interest?" Mika asked. His tone was light but his eyes were shrewd, as they often were when his brain was hard at work.

Kurda sighed, and decided to be honest.

"Paris wants to send a delegation to France. Vampaneze negotiations regarding amendments to the treaty. He asked me if I'd oversee it."

"Sounds like your idea of a good time." Mika replied. "When do you leave?"

"I'm not. I can't take the mission on. Paris asked me to give him an answer by tonight. I'll have to decline."

"What the fuck? Why not?" Said Mika, eyes narrowing.

"Language! And you know I can't just leave for three whole months! You won't have time to handle Gracie on your own with everything going on here. It would be insane. Paris can send someone else." Kurda reasoned earnestly.

"Kurda, do you hear how stupid you sound right now? You can't turn that opportunity down! Take the mission. That's an order." Mika replied bluntly, staring across the table at Kurda with exasperation.

"Are you kidding?" Kurda groaned. "After everything you just told me? Thank you, Mika. I appreciate the encouragement. But I can't leave you both like that. It would be unfair."

Mika raised his eyebrows and did his best to look stern, but the babbling toddler wrapped around his neck like a large scarf made him look considerably less intimidating than usual.

"What would be unfair is your career suffering just because you underestimate my ability to get shit handled." Mika replied, rather haughtily. "You know, when I tell people around here to do something... they usually do it. It's a bit of an advantage I have. So I assure you I'll have no problem making whatever arrangements I need to get by. Gracie and I will be just fine without you. So go to Paris right now! Tell him you accept, or I'll tell him for you."

Kurda could do nothing but stare back at him in shock and disbelief, feeling like his jaw was about to drop onto the table.

"You've got to be joking..." Kurda croaked out weakly, but he felt himself begin to smile.

"Am I known for my jokes?" Said Mika reproachfully, but he was smirking as well. "Get out of here before Paris asks someone else! And stop gawking at me like a dying fish. It's not a good look."

"I... I can't believe this! This is incredible. Thank you, Mika!" Kurda exclaimed, standing up and starting to make his way to the door.

"Are you forgetting something?" Mika called nonchalantly as Kurda hurried away.

"Oops!" Kurda winced as he sharply doubled back and gently disentangled Gracie from Mika's neck and gathered her into his arms.

"Goodnight, Princess. Daddy loves you." Said Mika softly, kissing her forehead once more before Kurda swept her away.

"Wow, Mika! I had no idea you felt that way! Goodnight to you too." Kurda teased, suddenly feeling extra outgoing as a result of the sudden excitement.

"Oh, fuck off."

"Language!" Kurda scolded over his shoulder as he carried Gracie off to visit Paris, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

"Daddy, where going?"

"I'm going to France, Gracie."

"What's France?"

"It's a very old and beautiful country, part of the continent of Europe. They're known for a beautiful city called Paris-"

"Like Papa Paris?"

"Perhaps your Papa Paris was named after the city. You'll have to ask him."

Kurda was growing more excited for his mission with every passing minute as his departure drew closer and closer. Just one more sleep to go. Packing his bag took twice as long as it should have, seeing as Gracie kept crawling into his backpack. But he knew he'd miss her the second he stepped outside, so he made sure to absorb every last second of Gracie time while he still could. And not that Kurda wanted it, but he was also getting a booster dose of Mika time before leaving them both behind for a few months.

"You're getting those butter croissants I like, right?" Mika asked seriously. He was perched carelessly on Kurda's desk. And seeing as Kurda had co-opted Mika's desk on several occasions, Kurda let it slide.

"They'll be stale by the time I get back. And it's pronounced croissant." Kurda replied, enunciating the word with a polished French accent as he shot Mika an impatient look.

"That's what I said."

"No, Mika. You said cruss-ont like some kind of barbarian."

"Whatever. Just pick some up and flit back." Mika pressed. "I'll give you clearance. It's fine."

"So you want me to tell my travelling companions, 'sorry I can't endure the obligatory trek back to the mountain with you, Sire Ver Leth requires butter cruss-onts'?"

"Need me to write you a permission slip?"

"Why don't you just flit out for your own snack run? You could go right now and have your stupid croissants in time for breakfast, instead of months from now." Said Kurda emphatically as he began to carefully roll up the collection of maps he was taking with him on the journey.

"Because I'm busy, and you're going there anyway!" Mika argued, a little patronizingly. As though explaining basic math to a small child.

"Wow, yes. You're the absolute picture of productivity right now." Kurda snorted. He glanced up to run a critical eye over Mika who was still sitting on his desk like he didn't have a care in the world. "And you know I'm not actually going to be touring downtown Paris, right? I'll be miles from the outskirts of the city."

Mika rolled his eyes.

"First of all, if you're coming at me about productivity when I just finished an eighteen hour shift in the Hall, go hug yourself-"

"Your profanity filter has improved, I'll give you that much credit." Said Kurda, arching an eyebrow but allowing Mika a dry smile, which Mika mirrored.

"Fucking excellent."

"Mika."

"Admit it. You're going to miss this."

"You're right. I have no idea how I'm going to live without you lurking around me the world's biggest, snarkiest, hungriest raven. Would you get your hand out of my cashew jar? You don't even like them!"

Mika rolled his eyes again, but did as he was told. But in removing his hand from the jar, he took with him the last of the cashews and earned a withering scowl of reproach from Kurda.

"What? I was hungry! They would've gone stale while you were away. I did you a favour." Said Mika, as defensively as he could through a full mouth. Which wasn't all that defensive. Then he swallowed, and added: "You're right, I don't actually like these that much. Can you get some different desk snacks?"

It didn't even occur to Kurda to tell him off. In fact, he couldn't do anything but laugh because it was so gods-damned funny. Because less than a year ago, there was no reality in which this conversation would be happening. Before Gracie, Mika and Kurda could barely get through any professional function without snapping at each other. And then, everything changed. A year later, here they were sitting on each other's desks and eating each other's desk snacks.

Kurda managed to stop laughing long enough to formulate a response. But when he opened his mouth to say, "You can pry my cashews out of my cold dead hands, you entitled prick." What came out instead was: "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Mika tilted his head, a curious look about him. As though Kurda said something absolutely ridiculous.

"Do you think I won't be?" Mika countered dubiously.

"You said it yourself, it's a busy year for everyone with council on the horizon!"

"Kurda, trust me. I know exactly what I'm doing." Said Mika with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Last year I wouldn't have survived a week without backup. But things have changed. I'm looking forward to not having to share Gracie with you. The real question is how are you going to survive without us?"

It was a valid question, despite the fact Mika was joking. Kurda paused, and put down the cloak he'd been folding so he could watch Gracie determinedly climb up the desk chair, then onto the desk itself so she could sit beside Mika. A few months ago, both of them would've sprang to help her up, lest she tumble and hurt herself. But her smile when she made it to the top was well worth the effort it took to stand back and let her challenge herself.

"I'm not sure. I don't remember what my life looked like before this." Kurda replied. And gods damn, he had not expected his voice to catch in his throat. Luckily Mika was there to ruin the moment before anyone's emotions ran amok.

"I do. It looked really boring." Said Mika conversationally.

"Gods, you're the worst." Kurda scoffed, with an eye-roll worthy of Mika himself. Then he wondered how many times they'd tossed that exact line back and forth over the years. It was impossible to know, but it had been a lot. Kurda busied himself with rolling up a few more of his maps, then he glanced back up at Mika and Gracie. Apparently tired from her climb up the desk, Gracie was draped across Mika's lap like a large, spoiled house cat. And Mika was gently petting her hair like she was a large, spoiled house cat.

"I'm going to miss you." Kurda added more quietly. He was looking at Gracie when he said it, but he was addressing the room at large. Mika glanced back at him for a moment, the same shrewdly curious look in his eyes. Then he softened and looked back at Gracie once again and replied,

"She's going to miss you too."

I don't project onto Mika all that much, but when I do it's the little things like being a slut for butter croissants.