You don't want to know how long I spent on this chapter or how much fun I had it. This is one of the rare ones I'll miss working on now that it's finished. This is low-key the first chapter where we actually get a hint of what's to come, feelings-wise. And when I say "we" I mean everyone but Mika n Kurda.

Biggest thanks to Dan for recommending the song GUY. exe because the scene where Kurda describes his "checklist" is directly based on the first verse. Everyone say THANKS DAN!

Chapter 14:Me, Myself, and Mika

It would be Kurda's luck that the one night Mika found himself completely unoccupied was the same night Kurda was preparing to go on his first date in at least thirty years. That meant Mika had nothing better to do than lounge in the background and be an overall nuisance.

"I'm sorry you're so hard up for amusement, but I promise this isn't nearly as funny as you think it is." Kurda bluntly informed Mika, not looking up from the small drawer of shirts he was rummaging through.

"So, what's his name?"

"None of your business."

"You can't tell me you're going on a date and not tell me who it is."

"Caliban Montoya. And I didn't say it was a date."

Mika was standing doorway with Gracie was perched on his shoulder like a parrot. He arched an eyebrow with casual curiosity.

"Vaguely rings a bell. General?" Mika asked.

"Nope."

"Guard?"

"Nope."

"Then what is he?"

"He's a normal vampire who does normal things, Mika! He arrived early for Council and he plans to spend a couple years in the mountain while his new apprentice trains with the other cubs. Why are you invested in this?"

"Not a lot else going on." Mika shrugged. "So where's he taking you? The Hall of Khledon Lurt?"

"Really? The borderline-neurotic workaholic has nothing else going on? How convenient." Said Kurda stiffly. "And it's not a date. If you must know… we're packing a picnic and hiking to some waterfall he wants to show me."

Mika laughed so hard he had to set Gracie down. And because Mika was laughing, Gracie felt she should be too. If we're being honest, she's pretty easy to influence. Kurda plans to fix that.

"Thank you both for the support." Said Kurda drily. "You know, Mika, I liked you better when you went out of your way to ignore me. Can we go back to that?"

"Gods, you're tense. Maybe this will be good for you. How long has it been since you got…" Mika paused and glanced down at Gracie, then back up at Kurda and spelled out in a stage whisper: "…L-A-I-D?"

Kurda rounded on him, releasing a sigh of immense exasperation.

"Don't you have a job to do?"

"My night's wide open, actually." Mika replied. "How'd you meet him?"

"Friend of a friend."

"Are you going to introduce him to Gracie?"

"I don't know!"

"Well, do I get to meet him?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"I guarantee he already knows who you are."

"But I don't know who he is."

"And I intend to keep it that way. I'm not letting you scare him away. If this goes well, I'd rather this not be our last date."

"So you admit it's a date!"

"Shut up."

"Also, why would I scare away someone who could potentially sweep you off your feet and out of Vampire Mountain forever?"

"You wish. We still have a kid, remember?" Kurda snorted.

"I'd let you visit on weekends, holidays, and Council." Said Mika carelessly as he gave himself a manicure with the dagger he always kept strapped to his belt.

Kurda glared and threw a balled-up sock at his head.

"Do not blow this for me, Mika."

"As if you need my help with that. Good luck, though."

It was a perfect date. So perfect, Kurda couldn't even believe it happened to him. Because these things just didn't happen to him. It wasn't that no one had ever been into Kurda before. But you can't be a radical pacifist in a clan of barbarians without a pretty heavy stigma hanging over your head at all times. Feelings of belonging and acceptance weren't exactly high priority for Kurda, but by the gods did it ever feel divine to have someone look at him the way Caliban did. With intrigue, fascination, and best of all… genuine attraction.

Kurda wasn't as naive as his peers tended to imply, but he did fall head over heels on the first date. The second date was just as magical. They ended up seeing each other five times in the first week. And the best part was, Caliban wasn't a fellow General, or mountain staff, or anything of the like. Which meant it was fresh. Simple and casual, but so wonderfully fresh.

Kurda didn't know when was the appropriate time to introduce your casual new flame to your child and co-parent. He knew it would happen. He just wasn't prepared for it to happen so soon.

One second he was laughing over breakfast as Cal pointed out a bit of food stuck to the corner of his mouth, asking if he was saving it for later. The next second, the entourage showed up.

Mika strolled into the Hall of Khledon Lurt to an uproarious fanfare, as if these idiots didn't see him in here every fucking day. Kurda couldn't help but roll his eyes as the breakfast crowd toasted and applauded as Mika made his way down the aisle. Mika took it all in stride, nodding politely. Gracie walked happily beside him, one of her hands holding Mika's, and the other one waving eagerly to the crowd.

"Holy shit, it's him." Said Caliban, eyes wide as he watched Mika from a distance. Of course, Cal knew about the Kurda-Gracie-Mika dynamic. He just hadn't actually witnessed it firsthand yet.

"He's lot less intimidating once you've seen him change a diaper." Kurda replied dismissively.

"You didn't tell me I was meeting him today!"

"I wasn't aware you'd be meeting him today. It'll be fine. It's not like he's going to put you on trial."

"Hi, Daddy!" Came Gracie's sweet voice, and Kurda couldn't help but smile. She was the centre of Kurda's universe, and if Caliban was going to stick around, he might as well get familiar with her sooner than later. And regardless of how Kurda felt about it, Mika was part of his universe too. There was simply no point in pretending otherwise. Hopefully Caliban could handle that.

"Hi, Gracie!" Kurda greeted her with a smile and a little wave. "What are you doing here?" He added to a Mika with a falsely chipper smile as he sat down beside Kurda, Gracie in tow.

"I work here." Mika replied with the same casual lightness.

"In the Hall of Khledon Lurt, specifically?" Said Kurda, eyebrows raised.

"You should've told me you were on a date. I would've requested takeout from the kitchens so as not to embarrass you." Mika shrugged, rolling his eyes and plunking himself down unceremoniously beside Kurda.

Gracie climbed up and gave Kurda a big hug, and being passive-aggressive to Mika was suddenly the last thing on his mind. He caught Caliban's eye across the table and grinned. Caliban returned the smile, but it seemed a little forced. Kurda didn't let that phase him - he chalked that up to Mika's abrupt arrival. After all, Mika was widely regarded as an intimidating individual. Kurda was part of the minority who knew better.

"Mika, this is Caliban Montoya. Caliban, this is… well, you already know." Said Kurda.

Mika flashed a smile that was both uncharacteristic and fake as fuck, and extended his hand to Caliban.

"Hi. So nice to meet you, Cal. I can call you Cal, right?" Mika inquired, not waiting for a reply as they shook hands. "I'm Mika, but you can call me Sire Ver Leth."

Under the table, Kurda booted Mika in the shin as hard as he could. Mika didn't even flinch.

"I'm honoured to properly meet you, Sire." Said Caliban with an awkward smile. "You knocked me over a few Festivals ago because I was standing between you and the drink table. You probably don't remember."

"I don't, no. But that sounds like something I'd do." Said Mika, nodding amicably.

"Gracie, this is my friend Caliban." Said Kurda gently (after rolling his eyes at Mika). "Can you say 'hi Caliban'?"

Gracie peered at Caliban studiously - as if she was sizing him up.

"Nice to meet you, Grace." Said Caliban. His tone was pleasant, but there was a stiff formality to it that suggested he had no idea how to interact with children. He hesitantly extended his hand to her, like he was introducing himself to a business associate - that might have rabies.

Gracie glanced up at Kurda, then Mika, as though silently asking for their input. This was unusual - she was never known to be standoffish or shy. Mika nodded encouragingly. Gracie looked back at Caliban, considered it for a moment, then slowly extended her hand to him. Kurda was pretty sure a toddler had no business looking that patronizing. But then again, she was half Mika's kid.

"Your dad's told me all about you."Caliban ventured. "I hear you like spiders."

Gracie nodded in affirmation.

"Why don't you tell him all about Lovely?" Mika suggested gently, and Gracie's eyes lit up. Kurda winced internally; he hadn't told Caliban there was a five pound tarantula living in the room next to his own.

"Lovely my best friend." Said Gracie very seriously.

"Oh yeah. Lovely's the best. Just wait til you meet him." Mika told Caliban, just as seriously as Gracie. "If he tries to kiss you, let him. The pincers are a little cold but his fur is soft."

"What's Lovely?" Caliban asked, glancing nervously from Mika to Kurda.

"Personally I think he looks more like a big hairy rodent, but Seba's assured us he's just an uncommonly large tarantula." Kurda assured him with a breezy chuckle.

"Perhaps I should get going." Said Cal, glancing meaningfully at Kurda. "I don't want to intrude on your, uh, family time."

"Please, don't stop your date on my account. Pretend I'm not even here." Said Mika earnestly like he was tuning into a sitcom. He reached over and snaked a piece of pancake from Cal's plate. "Still warm." He added approvingly.

"That's because he wasn't finished eating, you gigantic seagull." Kurda replied through gritted teeth.

"It's quite alright. It's an honour to share my breakfast with Sire Ver Leth." Said Cal, only looking mildly apprehensive.

"See, Kurda? Great first impression. And here you were thinking I wouldn't like him." Said Mika casually. He reached for Cal's plate again - this time bypassing the pancakes for a fresh, crispy slice of bacon.

"I didn't say that!" Kurda snapped, smacking his palm to his forehead. He glared daggers at Mika while slicing his hand across his throat in a silent but unmistakable cut-it-out gesture.

"Yes you did! Remember when you begged me not to acknowledge you in public because you thought I'd scare him away?" Said Mika innocently, through a mouthful of bacon. Kurda kicked his shin again. Mika didn't react.

"Don't mind him. He's reprehensible. And he was just leaving." Said Kurda, forcing a smile at Caliban who laughed awkwardly as Mika rolled his eyes and stood up.

"Whatever. Gracie's better company than you anyway. Have fun, kids!" Mika called over his shoulder as he carried on his way with Gracie in tow.

"He's older than you." Kurda hissed at Mika's departing back.

"Well… he's a lot… friendlier than I expected." Said Caliban, once Mika was out of earshot.

"Don't be fooled. He just likes to mess with me for his own amusement, that's all. Sorry about that." Said Kurda, grimacing.

"Did you actually think he wouldn't like me?" Cal asked. His quirked eyebrow paired rather endearingly with his little pout.

"Of course I didn't think that! Just because we share a kid doesn't mean I need his stamp of approval anyway." Kurda assured him, reaching over the table to squeeze his hand.

"That's a relief." Said Cal, seeming to relax. He flashed Kurda a grin, and Kurda felt his heart melt a little. "Now can you walk me through how exactly you ended up raising a human baby with one of the Princes?"

"Really? You've never adopted a child with your boss?" Kurda laughed. But he faltered when Cal's smile faded. Sarcasm came second-nature to Kurda, and all the time he'd spent with Mika had only increased his fluency. But Cal didn't seem to process it in the same way, so Kurda had been making a concerted effort to tone it down.

"Sorry." Kurda chuckled sheepishly. "It's actually quite a story. You comfortable?"

Cal smiled again, and his eyes softened as he propped his elbows on the table and looked back at Kurda.

"Always comfortable with you. Tell me all about it."

EIGHT HOURS LATER

"What?" Kurda grunted expectantly at Mika's back. Mika was at his desk, and Kurda had walked in here on the hunt for some of Gracie's missing socks - she liked to leave singles in arbitrary locations for them to find. Like she thought her dads weren't busy enough and would appreciate something akin to a weekly Easter egg hunt. So that's what Kurda was occupied with. But there was something subtle about Mika's posture that distracted Kurda from the sock search for a moment.

"What yourself? I'm just sitting at my desk minding my own business. I wasn't even looking at you." Said Mika calmly, not taking his eyes off his paperwork.

"You have something to say. I can tell." Kurda pressed. "So go ahead. Give me your official feedback. Not that I want it, but I suppose we might as well get it over with."

"You're overestimating how much I care. Cal's fine."

"So you were judging him. I knew it."

Mika sighed in exasperation and slowly turned around to fix Kurda with a long-suffering stare.

"Trust me, Kurda. I wish I didn't have to pay attention to what or who you do in your personal life. But the people in our lives are also in Gracie's life. So yes, obviously I was judging the shit out of him. I don't know why you'd expect any different." Said Mika evenly.

"Glad to know you have so much faith in me! What were you expecting, a serial killer?" Kurda replied drily.

Mika arched an eyebrow, but didn't react to Kurda's irritation.

"You're telling me if I started seeing someone who'd inevitably end up spending time with Gracie as well, you wouldn't want to know every single thing about them?" Said Mika.

Kurda narrowed his eyes, but felt his flaming indignation cool a little. Mika wasn't exactly wrong.

"…So you liked Cal, then?" Kurda asked bluntly.

"I thought he was alright." Said Mika with a shrug, arms crossed impassively across his chest as he held Kurda's shrewd stare.

"Just alright?"

"He seems nice enough. Not exactly the picture of confidence, though. Surprised you're into that."

Kurda bristled.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"He's insecure." Said Mika as simply as though commenting on the weather before turning back to face his paperwork again.

"Can you blame him?! He met up with me expecting a casual breakfast, not a full panel interview with Sire Ver Leth!" Kurda fired back, immediately defensive.

"Please. I've conducted execution sentencing trials that were less awkward than that. He kept looking around like he was hoping to see an emergency exit. Did he think Gracie was going to bite him?"

Kurda bristled further.

"That's hardly fair! You showed up unannounced just to haze the poor man for two minutes, and leave!"

"You told me to go away, so I did!"

"I didn't want you there in the first place!" It took all of Kurda's self-restraint not to shout at the top of his lungs and he only managed to keep his cool because Gracie was sound asleep in the next room.

"You think I don't know that? Gods, Kurda. Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" Said Mika coolly, glancing over his shoulder again. "All I wanted to do was make sure your new thing wasn't a complete degenerate. And now that I've confirmed Cal is perfectly adequate, you can rest assured I've lost interest in the matter completely."

"You can't judge someone based on a two-minute interaction they were completely unprepared for." Kurda seethed.

"I've judged people on a lot less. And I haven't been wrong yet. Do with that information what you will."

"Go fuck yourself, Mika."

"Yeah, I know I'm single. You don't have to rub it in." Mika replied sardonically.

And even though Kurda wanted to beat him senseless with a rolled-up stack of parchment, he still had to turn away so Mika wouldn't see the faint smirk of laughter on his lips. Because even though Mika was a first-class royal pain, that was a good one.

But Kurda was still mad at him, so he went to bed without another word.

A week later, they had their first argument. Kurda and Cal, that is.

Cal invited Kurda down to the Hall of Baker Wrent for an evening of recreational sparring with his friends. Kurda hadn't met Cal's inner circle yet, so he jumped at the opportunity even though a trip to the sporting halls wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Kurda figured he'd just hang out on the sidelines and play the role of Cal's one-man fan club. That sounded like a reasonable comprise.

Cal had taken the liberty of planning a mock combat tournament, splitting the friend group into teams of two against two. And unbeknownst to Kurda, his name had been added to the roster.

"I didn't agree to step in the ring! What were you thinking?!" Kurda protested when he pulled Cal into an empty locker room while the others got warmed up.

"You knew I was planning this tournament. You told me you wanted to get to know my friends. What am I missing here?" Cal shrugged, scratching his head as he leaned uncomfortably against the doorframe.

"Did it not occur to you that your pacifist boyfriend might not be interested in getting to know your friends by dodging their punches all night?" Kurda groaned.

"It's not that big a deal, Kurda. I'll just tell them to go easy on you! Come on. You'll do great!"

"That's not the point! You know I don't do this stuff!"

"It's one night! Gods, you're acting like I'm trying to force you into some kind of death match. This is supposed to be fun. Don't be so uptight!"

"Cal, do you know me at all?! Do you realize what you're asking me to do?"

"I'm asking you just try to have a good time! Sorry, I didn't realize that would offend you so much!"

"I'm not offended! I just don't want to do this! I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there are lines I won't cross. I'll see you tomorrow." Said Kurda coldly.

"Are you serious? You can't just leave!"

"Watch me."

Kurda turned to go, and suddenly Cal's hand slipped into his, soft and longing.

"Wait. Don't go, baby. I'm sorry." Cal groaned. "I dropped the ball on this, I'm so fucking sorry. I know better than to put you up to this. I'm crazy about you. You know that, right? I just got so excited to show you off to all my friends, I got a little selfish."

Kurda sighed, and turned back around to glare patronizingly at Cal. On some level, he knew that was a shitty apology. But no one had ever looked at him like that. Hell, half the people in this place barely wanted to look at him at all.

"You don't have to spar with us. We'll figure something out." Cal added, flavouring it with an unflattering pout that really shouldn't have made Kurda soften a little. "Just please don't go, okay? I can't do this without my biggest fan rooting for me."

"You have a lot of nerve to assume I'll be rooting for you instead of whoever's taking a turn beating you with a staff." Said Kurda at last.

Cal's eyes lit up with adoration, and he pulled Kurda in for a long, slow kiss.

"You're my superstar. You know that, right?" Cal purred as he leaned back from the kiss.

"Honestly, I completely forgot. Maybe you should remind me more often." Kurda snorted. He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop himself from cracking a smile.

Cal rolled his eyes too, but he didn't smile at Kurda's sarcasm.

"You're doing it again. How am I supposed to know when you're joking and when you're serious?" He sighed.

"You plotted the worst date night in history. I think I'm allowed to be sarcastic." Said Kurda, arching an eyebrow.

"You've got me there. I'll let it slide this time." Cal laughed reluctantly, in a way that almost sounded defeated. He leaned in to kiss Kurda one more time. Kurda returned the kiss, but didn't prolong it.

"Alright, let's get this over with."

"Lead the way, angel face."

They left their mutual irritation in the locker room. It wasn't a bad night, after all. Kurda actually had a little bit of fun. At least, as much fun as he could possibly have in any of the sporting halls. Cal's friends were overall cool about it, and one of them even brought a few bottles of wine to pass around while waiting for their turns. Kurda dutifully cheered Cal on, and he managed a third place finish. Then Cal kissed Kurda in front of everyone, like he was proud to simply have him there. By the end of the night, the abrupt argument was the last thing on Kurda's mind.

THE NEXT NIGHT:

"How's Cal?" Mika inquired, with a notably singsongy emphasis on Cal.

"Stop calling him that." Kurda shot Mika a reproachful glare across the table as he scooped his meeting notes into a bag. He was eye-to-eye with Mika; the Princes had just dismissed the senior Generals from a lengthy conference, and the meeting room behind the throne platform had all but completely emptied out.

"Calling him what? His name?" Mika remarked, while leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head and his feet propped on the table as though he'd never been bothered by anything in his life. And Kurda knew enough to call bullshit on that one.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're being condescending on purpose." Said Kurda curtly.

"Kurda, I really wish I had time to be condescending on purpose. Maybe I can fit it in after Council, but not before then."

"Whatever. Cal's excellent. Thanks for asking."

"Excellent? Is that what they're calling third place now?" Mika smirked, still eyeing Kurda as though he had some sort of upper hand in this. Kurda bristled immediately.

"Really? All those council preparations on your plate and you still make time to run recon on my significant other?" Kurda challenged him. "Thought you lost interest."

"When I heard there was an amateur combat tournament last night, I had to confirm if Cal was still as adequate as I thought he was. I got a copy of the final score card from the ref. Happy to report there's been no change." Said Mika conversationally.

"I know. I was there."

"So you admit he's just adequate?"

"No! What is your problem?! Are you really too emotionally stunted to be happy for me? I know I'm not your favourite person, but we still share a daughter. What kind of example are you setting for her by dragging me down every chance you get?" Kurda snapped, fingernails digging into the top of the ancient cedar table as he leaned into his hands and narrowed his eyes at Mika.

Mika held Kurda's challenging gaze for a moment. Finally he sighed heavily, removed his feet from the table and sat upright. He stretched his arms before crossing them over his chest. The expression of lazy indifference on his face shifted into something that looked… diplomatic. As though Kurda had done something vaguely wrong, but not wrong enough to incur actual wrath.

"I could ask you the same thing. Look, Kurda. You're a pacifist. I don't get it, but I respect it. It's excruciatingly obvious that your beliefs are very important to you. So why exactly are you putting up with someone who doesn't give a shit about what you stand for?" Said Mika bluntly, arching one jet-black eyebrow.

Kurda saw red.

"Pardon you?!"

"I had an unrelated meeting with Vanez the other day, before the tournament. Saw a list of names on his desk." Said Mika with a shrug, resting his elbows on the table. "Being the nosy prick I am, I asked about it and he told me a Caliban Montoya submitted it the night before so he could reserve the hall. Paired up the teams and everything. Cal may not be interesting, but at least he's organized. Guess that counts for something."

"My relationship is none of your business. You've had your fun. Now go shit on someone else's happiness. I don't deserve this." Kurda forced out, words clipped and icy. Mika's gaze never wavered, and Kurda couldn't help but feel like Mika knew something he didn't. But that was impossible. This was the one thing in the world Mika didn't get to have an opinion about.

"I'm going to ask you a yes or no question." Mika continued. "If you answer yes, I'll personally officiate your mating ceremony and give you my blessing-"

"Which is worth nothing to me. What if I answer no?" Kurda fired back.

"If you answer no, I'll just leave the room so you can think long and hard about why your answer was no."

"I'm not playing this game with you." Kurda huffed. He stood up and turned his back on Mika.

"Did Cal ask before he signed you up for the tournament? Yes or no?" Mika inquired to Kurda's retreating back. He spoke as casually as ever but Kurda knew him well enough to pick up on the subtle edge to his voice. Because Mika already knew the fucking answer to that.

Kurda didn't stop walking. He didn't even turn around.

Kurda barely looked at Mika for two weeks after that. It was easier to be mad at him now that Gracie was a little older and more independent (well, as independent as two year old can be). They didn't need to lean on each other for support as much as they did when their baby was an actual baby. Not to mention council preparations were taking up the vast majority of both their schedules. Whatever spare time Kurda had, he spent with Cal. And he was more than okay with that.

Aside from the sparring tournament debacle, it had been smooth sailing. Kurda felt seen, appreciated, and adored. Not to mention the sex wasn't half-bad either. Hell of a lot better than adequate, anyway.

All was well.

Until it wasn't.

Kurda didn't think he was doing anything wrong when, during lunch with several of Cal's friends, he politely called Cal out on an incorrectly cited statistic about illegitimate vampaneze-on-vampire attacks within the past two decades. He didn't try to start an argument. All Kurda did was simply stand his ground because he was right. It wasn't even a matter of opinion, in this case it was a literal fact. Kurda didn't say anything rude or inflammatory; he didn't want to embarrass his boyfriend. Kurda thought he handled it pretty respectfully, all things considered. It was Cal who got heated when Kurda called gently him out.

Kurda backed down as soon as he saw Cal's face reddening. After all, they were in the middle of the Hall of Khledon Lurt at peak dinner hour. Not to mention Kurda didn't know Cal's friends very well. Normally Kurda didn't particularly give a shit whose toes he stepped on where politics were concerned, but this relationship was so new and he wanted it to last. So at least for now, he'd tread carefully.

Within minutes they were back to laughing and joking, but Cal's demeanour was stiff and Kurda knew he was annoyed.

Following lunch, Cal left the table with a tepid goodbye. Kurda had a full schedule ahead of him, so following up wasn't any option until later that night when Kurda showed up to Cal's room.

"I'm sorry, Kurda. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you." Cal sighed dejectedly as they sat side-by-side in Cal's hammock. He sat with his face in his hands for a moment, then glanced over at Kurda with a strangely wounded look in his big brown eyes. "But you know I hate when you make me feel stupid! I swear you do it on purpose. Like, we all know you're smart. You don't have to act like that." Cal added reproachfully.

Kurda took a minute to pick his jaw up off the floor and re-compose himself.

"It was not, and will never be my intention to make anyone feel stupid." Said Kurda quietly. "Especially you. And I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. With that said, improving clan relations has been my life's work. And I'm not afraid to speak up when I hear someone spreading false information that puts that at risk. Not even if it's someone I care about. If you can't respect that, we don't have a future. You understand that, right?"

Cal stared long and hard at him. And for all his skills at reading people, Kurda couldn't make sense of what was going on behind those deep brown eyes.

"Say something." Kurda prodded gently after a few moments, bumping Cal's shoulder affectionately with his own.

"You're gorgeous." Said Cal, finally flashing a smile and kissing Kurda on the forehead. "You gonna sleep over tonight?" He added hopefully, running his hand hungrily along Kurda's inner thigh.

"Not tonight." Said Kurda ruefully. "I have to get back to Gracie. Mika will be leaving for the Hall of Princes soon. But if you want to come join us for story time, you're more than welcome."

"I'd better stay here and get some sleep." Cal sighed. "Big night tomorrow."

"Really? I had no idea." Kurda chuckled, not even thinking to check his sarcasm. Cal's best friend had just passed his Trials of Initiation, so it was a feast in his honour. Kurda wasn't normally all that enthusiastic about parties, but this one was going to be their first big social function as a couple. And against his better judgment, Kurda was really looking forwards to it.

"You're real funny." Said Cal. Then he arched an eyebrow pointedly. "How's that for sarcasm?"

"Maybe there's hope for you after all." Kurda teased, leaning in to give Cal one more kiss before heading out the door. "See you at breakfast tomorrow."

Tomorrow arrived.

Cal wasn't at breakfast. And neither were any of his friends, so Kurda couldn't ask. He nudged Cal telepathically, and was a little put-out when Cal's response was a disappointing something came up, sorry.

Cal wasn't a General. Or a guard. Or a staff member. He didn't work here, so there wasn't a whole lot that could come up on short notice for him. But as always, Kurda's schedule was so full he didn't have time to worry about it.

The night went on, and Kurda didn't hear from Cal again. The party drew closer and closer til Kurda finally showed up in Cal's room to make sure he was okay.

"Oh… hey!" Said Cal as he opened the door. The forced smile on his face made Kurda's stomach clench. Cal didn't say anything for a moment. He stood there in his doorway with a bizarrely expectant look on his face, as though Kurda owed him an explanation for showing up here.

"Hey! I've been worried about you." Said Kurda, raising an eyebrow. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah… sorry. Just been a busy night, you know?" Said Cal with that same artificial smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"I wouldn't know, because you bailed on breakfast with no explanation. Are you okay?" Kurda replied. He purposely kept his voice even, despite the fact that Cal's false-casual demeanour was putting him on edge.

"Yeah. Come in." Said Cal at last, almost reluctantly. He turned away and retreated into his room, Kurda following behind.

"Are you getting ready to head down to the party?" Kurda ventured. And if he hadn't already been internally panicking, Cal's reaction to that question would've set his alarm bells ringing loud and clear.

"Oh… the party. Right. Totally forgot." Said Cal. He wasn't smiling anymore - his handsome face twisted into a grimace as he ran his hand uneasily through his hair.

"How exactly did you forget? You've been talking about this party for weeks. The other day you were going on about how excited you were for our first big public appearance together." Kurda countered, hearing his suspicion come to life in his voice.

Cal smiled again, and there was nothing charming or casual about it. It wasn't even a smile, really. He just turned his grimace upside-down for a second.

"Mmm… I did say that, didn't I?" Cal replied sheepishly.

"Seeing as this is the first time in about a decade I've actually been looking forwards to attending a Vampire Mountain social function, I think I'd remember." Kurda affirmed. His stomach was churning painfully now.

Cal exhaled heavily and turned away from Kurda, both hands running through his hair now.

"Do you not want to go anymore?" Kurda pressed.

"No. I'm still going. I wouldn't miss Brennan's big night." Cal sighed. He paused at his nightstand to take a drink from the mug of ale there, then turned around to face Kurda once more.

"Alright." Said Kurda tersely. "So… should we get going?"

Cal's jaw seemed to twitch as he looked Kurda up and down. There was a resigned, checked-out look in his eyes. Subconsciously, Kurda registered that he might as well just walk out of the room now and save himself some time and pain. But his subconscious wasn't in the driver's seat, so feet remained rooted to the floor.

"Listen, Kurda. You're great and all. I've had fun spending time with you the last few weeks. But I just… I don't think this is going to work. In fact, I know it isn't. We can be friends. And I'll see you at the party - I just don't think there's much point in us going together."

And even though Kurda knew it was coming, he didn't have nearly enough time to brace his heart for impact. So it shattered.

"Cal… what are you talking about? Where is this coming from?" Kurda choked out, feeling his face blister in shame.

"Come on… you really gonna make me say it?"

"Say what?! What the hell changed?Two days ago we were fine!"

"Don't get me wrong. It's not that I'm not attracted to you. You're an absolute knockout." Said Cal, with a pitiful attempt at a reassuring smile. As if that made any of this better.

"Gods, what a relief for me." Kurda heard himself snap back. "So it's my personality you have a problem with?"

"Don't say it like that. You're making me sound like a monster." Cal groaned. "Think about it. This can't come as a shock to you! The way you start arguments, always looking for something to criticize. And gods forbid anyone expresses a political opinion in front of you, because you never fail to turn it into an entire thing! It's exhausting. I'm done. You're just… too much for me."

There it was. The final death blow to the short-lived relationship that had been too good to be true.

Kurda didn't say anything after that. What was there to say? He felt his stomach clench, his limbs starting to tingle, and blood rush to his face as he turned and walked away. No matter how far he walked, those words hammered his heart and soul relentlessly until they were all he could hear.

You're just too much for me.

You're just too much for me.

He numbly made his way back to his room where he intended to spend the rest of the night wallowing in heartbreak. He couldn't think of anything worse than attending the party at this present moment. Kurda loathed himself for looking forwards to this night, because the anticipation was practically intoxicating. Now it was gone. And it hurt so bad.

Kurda dragged out a pile of paperwork and sat hunched at his desk trying to make sense of the shapes and lines through his burning eyes that were suddenly unwilling to cooperate with him. He felt like such an absolute moron. What was he thinking, letting himself fall head over heels? He was supposed to be smarter than this. How could he be this stupid?

After about fifteen minutes of sitting alone with his thoughts, he heard the door swing open two rooms away. And he hadn't closed the door that connected his suite to Gracie's room, so out of the corner of his eye he could see Mika stroll into his own room on the other side of Gracie's.

Mika was humming under his breath and had a pep in his step; he was just as keen to get to the party as Kurda had been before it all went to hell. That was normal for Mika, though. He lived for this shit - the parties, the revelry, the fighting, the drinking. Because as always, Mika was the poster-child for Normal, Successful, Well-Adjusted Vampires (tm) whereas Kurda was the misfit, the odd duck who'd accidentally wandered into this mountain at some point and just never left. No matter what he did or said, he'd never be anything more than that. Cal proved it by pulling an ice-cold 180 as soon as Kurda dared to show a part of himself that didn't quite agree with him.

"Get up from that desk, Smahlt!" Mika called loudly from the other room. "We're not finishing our homework tonight. Let's go!"

Somehow, the uncharacteristic pleasantness in Mika's tone made Kurda feel even worse. Kurda had essentially been giving Mika the silent treatment since their argument, and now Mika had the nerve to be amicable.

"Not going." Kurda mumbled. But he knew Mika hadn't heard him because by the sounds of it, Mika was fully engrossed in scouring his closet to locate his most formal plain black t-shirt.

"I've heard Gareth Tarl is going to challenge Renley Azerion in the sparring ring tonight. I don't want to miss that. Tarl's gonna end up wearing his own ass as a hat." Mika added with relish, because nobody in this place was above gossiping like a high school kid. Not even the Princes. Especially not the Princes.

"That'll be an improvement for Tarl." Kurda replied tonelessly, face in his hands as he massaged the temples of his pounding head. Mika proceeded to obliviously make everything so much worse.

"Kurda, have you seen my shirt?"

"What shirt?"

"Black, short sleeves…"

"You just described all four hundred shirts you own."

"No, this one is new!"

"Is it a V-neck?"

"Is it what?"

"My gods, they really will let anyone sit on those thrones." Kurda remarked icily through gritted teeth. "Use your brain. Is the neck hole shaped like a V?"

"I don't know. I think it's just a normal one." Came Mika's comically serious reply

"If it's the one that was on your desk chair yesterday, I put it on top of your dresser because Gracie was eyeing it while covered in fingerprint." Kurda grunted while praying Mika would disappear.

"Found it! Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Ever again. Where's Gracie, anyway?"

Mika made his way to Kurda's doorway and stood there eyeing him with a mildly puzzled expression while Kurda did his best to maintain eye contact without crying.

"I dropped Gracie off in the Hall of Princes to stay with Paris and Seba for the night, remember?" Said Mika. "They offered to take her so we could both go to the party?"

"Right, sorry. I forgot."

Kurda tried to refocus on his paperwork, but Mika was surveying him critically now.

"You alright? You look a little stunned."

"Don't you worry about me. I'm living the dream." Said Kurda.

"Whatever you say. Now I have to go check on something, but I'll see you at the feast." Mika arched an eyebrow skeptically before turning to go.

"Wait. Tell Paris he doesn't need to watch Gracie after all. I'll go pick her up once I'm finished writing this draft." Said Kurda. His voice was strained, but not so much Mika would pick up on it , seeing as he had no real reason to expect anything was wrong.

Mika shook his head, shooting Kurda a funny look.

"The feast's going to be loud and crowded, and the party after will be worse. And Paris loves spending time with her. She's the only one who hasn't already heard all of his stories."

"Well, that's irrelevant. I'm not going to the feast. Or the party." Said Kurda. Keeping his voice from shaking took an effort of monumental proportions, but he managed. Then he silently begged the gods for Mika to either take the hint, or lose interest and fuck off for the rest of the night. But it clearly the gods were enjoying this a little too much.

"What? Since when?" Mika asked, surveying Kurda with great suspicion.

"Since I decided I don't want to!"

"Charna's guts, what's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem!" Kurda snapped. He stood up abruptly and brushed past Mika, roughly picking up handfuls of Gracie's toys from the floor and jamming them back on the shelves in an effort to distract himself and shield his watering eyes from Mika's observant ones.

"I thought you were all excited for your first big appearance with Cal." And the mocking tone in which Mika spoke the name was more than Kurda could handle.

"There's no Cal!" Kurda exploded at last, at a volume that caused Mika to blink in surprise. Gracie was far on the other side of the mountain so Kurda supposed he might as well take advantage of a rare opportunity to shout a little. "It's over! He ended it! So no, I don't want to go to a fucking party in honour of his best friend tonight!"

Mika's entire persona changed in the blink of an eye. His face fell and his jaw dropped about an inch.

"Oh. Wow. Sorry to hear that." Said Mika at last.

"Please, spare me your fake pity! Go ahead, Mika! It's the moment you've been waiting for! Look me in the eye and tell me you told me so!" Finally Kurda lost the battle against the tears that had been scalding his eyes all night. He sunk to the floor with his back against the wall and his reddening face in his hands as his body heaved with strangled sobs.

"Fuck." Mika muttered to himself, apparently caught off-guard and uncertain whether he should be feeling sympathetic or inconvenienced at Kurda's abrupt meltdown.

"Why are you still here?" Kurda whimpered, lacing it with as much resentment as he could muster. Which wasn't much. "You're going to be late."

"You should still come to the party. Gracie's already looked after, so you might as well make the best of it." Mika suggested cautiously. "Have some good food, few drinks. Or more than a few. Take your mind off it. That's what I'd do."

"I don't care what you'd do. I'm not going anywhere. Now can you please just leave?"

Mika slowly moved towards the door, and Kurda felt a flicker of hope. Then Mika paused and Kurda felt like he might just explode in anguish and frustration and obliterate the entire mountain in his wake.

"Do you… need anything?" Mika offered awkwardly.

"GET OUT!" Kurda's abject frustration burned hotter than ever as Mika continued to do the opposite of leave. Kurda buried his face in his palms again, and waited to hear the door close.

But all he heard was Mika heave a long-suffering sigh of resignation. Then muffled footsteps approaching, and finally the telltale hshhh of fabric against stone as Mika slowly slid to the floor, sitting a couple feet away from Kurda with his back against the wall. To Kurda's utter misery, he seemed to be getting comfortable.

"I was going to leave. But then you yelled at me, so now I'm not." Said Mika conversationally. But his voice lacked the biting snark that usually accompanied his retorts. "Just for the record, I actually am sorry. You don't have to believe me. But it's true." He added in an undertone.

Kurda had nothing to say to that, so he continued to sob. There was still a part of him that hated showing weakness in Mika's presence, even though in his heart of hearts he knew Mika wasn't actually judging him. After all, they'd been privy to every high and low of each other's lives since Gracie entered the equation. Were they friends? Depended on the day. Did they like each other? That changed by the hour. But they'd evolved past judging each other.

Kurda heard Mika shift beside him. A few moments later, a hand made contact with Kurda's trembling shoulder. The touch was hesitant, and definitely awkward. But it was well-intentioned. Unfortunately that opened the floodgates further, and Kurda sobbed harder than ever. He felt Mika wince slightly, as though Kurda's breakdown was causing him excruciating secondhand embarrassment.

"You should get to the party. They'll be wondering where you are." Kurda managed to gulp after a few minutes of weeping.

"It's not that important." Said Mika dismissively. "We get new Generals all the time."

"Thought you were excited." Kurda sniffled. "The other day you and Arrow were complaining that nothing interesting has happened lately."

"It's just a party, Kurda. There'll be another one in a month. Maybe by then you'll have gotten up off the floor." Mika's hand shifted from Kurda's shoulder to his hunched back, and it remained there. Kurda broke down once more, because right now the idea of getting up, walking out of this room, and inevitably running into Caliban was unthinkable.

"Hey… don't do this. Come on. He's not worth this much time or energy. I promise." Mika offered at last as he ran his palm in cautious circles around Kurda's back. Mika completely dropped the front of indifference and was speaking in the steady, reassuring cadence that, til now, Kurda had only ever heard him use to calm Gracie when she was upset.

"I thought we had something. I was happy. Do you know how rare it is for someone to look at me like I'm worth something?!" Kurda choked out, surprising himself with his own raw honesty.

"So what went wrong?" Mika asked.

"He didn't like how I challenged him. When he ended it, he told me…" Kurda paused for a moment to catch his breath, because the wound was still so fresh and he didn't even want to think about those cruel parting words, much less speak them out loud. But with great trepidation he forced them out at last - "He told me I was too much for him."

"Wow." Mika murmured. There was a strangely bitter note of disdain beneath the gravel in his voice. And somehow it came through clearly in that singular syllable. Kurda hummed in affirmation, and said no more. He simply rested his head defeatedly against Mika's shoulder, because this night was already a total write-off and it wasn't like he could embarrass himself any more than he already had.

Mika remained quiet for so long that Kurda eventually glanced up at him. Mika's face was stony and expressionless, as if deep in thought.

"What that actually means… was that he wasn't enough for you." Said Mika eventually, without looking at Kurda. He was staring dead ahead as though trying to laser a hole into the wall across from him.

"Pardon?" Kurda scoffed, wiping his nose unabashedly on his sleeve.

"Your confidence made him feel insecure. You were too close to see it, but I did." Mika continued. And somehow, there wasn't a trace of vindication in his tone. "You know who you are, and what you believe in. And you are a lot. But that's not inherently a bad thing, and if he felt like he couldn't handle you, it wasn't because you were too much. He just wasn't enough for you."

There it was. The stars had aligned and Mika had finally been granted his golden moment to stand up and declare to the universe, "Ha ha, Kurda. I told you so, you dumb fucking loser." The opportunity was right there in front of him. And he swerved.

Kurda blinked up at him through puffy, stinging eyes. Totally speechless. Who was this man? And more importantly, where had he hidden Mika Ver Leth's body?

"And you were out of his league anyway." Mika added, after another prolonged silence.

"I'm sorry, what?" Kurda croaked.

"I've spent over a year sharing my life with you, completely against my will. I think I know what I'm talking about."

Kurda took a breath, trying to gather himself enough to counter with sarcasm of his own. But all that came out was a shuddering,

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Seriously, let's never speak of this again." Said Mika. His tone was suddenly brisk and businesslike again. "Now do you want to get drunk?"

"I told you I'm not going to the party."

"Kurda, who do you think you're talking to? I have a fully stocked liquor cabinet in my room. How often do we both have the night off from clan stuff and the Gracie stuff? Sit on the floor if you want, but I'm not wasting the opportunity."

ONE HOUR LATER

"All I want is someone who's respectful, supportive, almost as smart as me, good with Gracie, and isn't afraid to be challenged! Is that so much to ask?" Kurda slurred as he lay on Mika's bearskin rug and stared up at the ceiling with a lopsided grin on his face. Around them lay an assortment of used shot glasses and opened bottles of liquor. Rather than pick one, they decided to sample a bit of everything. After all, it was a special occasion (or something like that).

"Of course not." Mika agreed vehemently, also lying on the floor a few feet away. "Never settle!"

"And ambitious. And funny. With good hygiene." Kurda rambled, taking another slurp from his glass. He vaguely registered how loudly he was speaking, and didn't care in the slightest.

"Well, nothing's impossible." Said Mika.

"Attractive, too." Kurda added seriously.

"You might have to settle."

"Please. I can't picture you having a reasonable list of demands yourself. No wonder you're single."

"I don't have a list." Mika replied simply.

"Of course you have a list. Everyone has a list." Said Kurda.

"Fine. They'd have to like me. That's it." Said Mika.

"Okay, you're cut off. That makes no sense." Kurda sat up and shot Mika a funny look.

"It makes perfect sense. I'm not looking. But if I was, the most important thing would be to know they actually like me." Said Mika decisively. He was staring up at the ceiling as though expecting the secrets of the universe to reveal themselves there. His arms were folded comfortably across his chest, and he was still holding a mostly-empty bottle of schnapps.

"Mika. You literally can't go anywhere without your fan club trailing you. The level of hero-worship you experience on a nightly basis is actually a little gross, if I'm being honest." Said Kurda, rather disparagingly. Then he reached for the nearest bottle and took a hearty swig before adding, "You have this entire clan in your damn pocket! You could have anyone you wanted."

Mika didn't sit up from the floor, but he tilted his head slowly til his thoughtful gaze rested on Kurda.

"Maybe I could. Doesn't mean anything. They admire my accomplishments and respect my authority. That doesn't mean they like me. They don't even know me!" Mika insisted emphatically. He wasn't slurring as much as Kurda, but his eyes were hazy and unfocused. Kurda took another drink, one quizzical eye still fixed on Mika.

"Well." Said Kurda at last. "They're not missing much."

And Mika laughed. Like, genuinely laughed. He was still laughing as he slowly sat up, at eye-level with Kurda now.

"You know why I was so into Arra years ago?" Mika asked, still with that absent-minded grin on his face.

"I have no idea, because I was still actively avoiding you at that point. You two would've been a match made in heaven, though. Mean and Meaner. And by the way, she's Meaner." Kurda replied as he grinned hazily back at Mika.

"She knew me before I was important. I'd only been a General for six months when I met her." Mika reminisced. "Then I started to rise through the ranks, and everyone started looking at me differently. They either wanted something from me, or felt threatened by my success. But not Arra. She was never afraid to put me in my place and remind me where I started. And when she saw me at the feast after my investiture ceremony, the first thing she did was steal the drink out of my hand and tell me my speech was boring. And I felt like I was coming up for air when I didn't even know I'd been drowning."

Kurda nodded studiously back at Mika for a few minutes, letting all that sink in.

"That's a lovely sentiment, Mika. Really heartfelt. Just for the record, when I think of the top five worst bullies I've encountered in my life, Arra is three of them." Said Kurda at last. Mika rolled his eyes for a second, then broke down laughing again. And Kurda couldn't help but do the same.

"You know what's fucked up? I still don't know if I was ever truly in love with Arra, or if I was just comfortable with her. All I knew was that she felt like home." Mika sighed, still smiling as the laugher died from his lips. He was still sitting upright, a few feet away from Kurda on the other end of the bearskin rug.

Kurda didn't immediately reply, mostly because his brain felt like it was floating peacefully through space with no ties to logic or ration. Instead, he just watched Mika for a moment, asking himself how he got here.

How did Kurda get here? Both literally and figuratively. How did he end up on the floor of his arch-nemesis' bedroom, blind drunk, laughing so hard his abs burned, mere hours after some idiot curb-stomped his heart? And how was it that he felt completely safe from the rest of the world for the first time since he was a child? How had this become home?

Vampire Mountain had always been Mika's home. It was clear by the way he walked around the place like he was proud to be there, the way his eyes still lit up whenever he opened the magic Hall doors even though he'd been doing it for almost a century. Mika had always loved this place in a way Kurda only wished he could. When they found Gracie, Mika's home became Gracie's home. He took his personal sanctuary and made it hers. That was on purpose. But then, by some cosmic accident, it became Kurda's too.

That was how.

"What're you looking at?" Mika inquired critically, noticing Kurda was smiling dizzily up at him.

"Home."

"Huh?" Clearly Mika had already forgotten what he'd just said. He wrinkled his nose in confusion as he peered down at Kurda through unfocused eyes.

"Never mind." Kurda chuckled. "Hey, what's in that green bottle?"

"Tequila."

"Ah. You know, I've never actually tried tequila before."

"You probably wouldn't like it."

"Sounds like something someone who doesn't want to share his tequila would say."

"What's mine is yours. Just don't say I didn't warn you, General Smahlt."

Kurda didn't remember drinking the tequila, but his body kept the receipts for him.

He woke up on Mika's floor, face-down on the bearskin rug with a hangover so all-consuming he could feel it rotting his very soul. It took several minutes and every bit of his strength to slowly sit up. And once he did, it was another few minutes before the room stopped spinning and he could see the discarded liquor bottles on the floor around him. Just the sight of it made his stomach lurch, and he barely made it to the water closet on time.

Once he'd barfed to within an inch of his life, he took a few moments to breathe and try to assess how exactly he'd gotten here. Unfortunately, he remembered every bit of the last-minute heartbreak that sidelined his plans. Less unfortunately, he remembered how weirdly nice Mika had been about it.

Kurda dimly registered he wasn't totally alone. There was a familiar voice drifting softly from the next room - Mika must've already woken up and collected Gracie from the sleepover with her doting duo of grandfathers. Kurda slowly made his way over to Gracie's room. He had to use the wall for support but when he finally opened her door, the view was well worth the trip.

As expected, Mika was there. And Kurda wished so terribly he could take a photograph and wallpaper the entire mountain with it. Because Mika looked like an absolute trainwreck. There was no way around it. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, green-faced and red-eyed. Even standing ten feet away, Kurda could feel Mika's hangover in his bones.

But that wasn't even the best part.

The best part was Gracie - because it's always Gracie. She was sitting in Mika's lap. They were both wrapped in a fuzzy pink blanket, which was pulled up all the way over Mika's head like a hood. Gracie had a picture book in her hands, and was in the process of "reading" it to Mika by way of ad-libbing her own interpretation of the pictures on each page. Mika looked roughly forty percent conscious, which was just enough for his eyes to focus on whatever picture Gracie was pointing to, and hum in agreement every now and then. It took him a minute to notice Kurda was standing in the doorway.

"Wow. It's alive." Mika rasped, looking almost impressed. "Didn't expect to see you up and about so soon."

"Why'd you let me try every bottle you had?" Kurda groaned.

"I didn't let you do anything! You were pouring my drinks by the end of the night! And don't say I didn't warn you about the tequila."

"What's a 'quila?" Gracie asked, peering up at Mika with earnest interest in her wide eyes.

"Spicy juice. You'd hate it." Said Mika decisively.

"Yucky." Gracie agreed, while vigorously shaking her head.

"How was your sleepover with Papa Paris and Grampa Seba?" Kurda smiled despite the pounding in his head as he sat down on the floor beside them and ruffled her wispy golden hair.

"Papa Paris let me eat all the cookies, and Grampa Seba let me stay up late." Gracie informed him rather smugly, eyes alight with relish.

"Sounds about right." Kurda sighed. Without even thinking about it, he edged closer and slipped under the fuzzy blanket Mika was currently using as a comfort cape. Luckily it was big enough for the whole crew.

Kurda closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall as Gracie began to "read" again. Within seconds, Mika's conscious silently bumped up against his own. Even his internal voice sounded more subdued than usual.

MVL: How you feeling?

KS: Fresh as a daisy. You?

MVL: I wanna fucking die.

KS: I can tell. Your face is the colour of Vancha's hair.

MVL: I let you sleep in, and this is how you thank me?

KS: Go back to sleep, then. I got her.

Kurda glanced over at Mika, and found himself smiling. Mika didn't actually look perturbed in the slightest. In fact, he looked more at peace than Kurda had ever seen him before.

MVL: And miss this? I'm good. You can go back to sleep if you want.

KS: I'm good.