Heavy is the head that wears the crown
Heavy is the head that wears the crown
The torches were burning low and most of the mountain had long since retreated to bed when Mika and Arrow found themselves alone in the Hall of Princes after another long day of preparing for their upcoming individual missions. It would be the last night they'd both be in the same room for at least a few years.
"I think Paris was being sarcastic when he asked if we were going to end up with separation anxiety, but he wasn't far off the mark." Said Arrow conversationally.
"I can't remember the last time we were apart for more than a few months." Mika commented in an undertone as he gave his favourite sword a final sharpening.
"It was when I was married." Arrow replied. He was also putting the finishing touches on his own sword; the hilt required a bit of re-binding.
"Right..." Mika replied. "I should've remembered that. You know, I really got a lot done during those years, but it was never the same without you."
"I'm surprised you had time to miss me." Arrow snorted gently. "Between all the ladder-climbing and the ass-kissing you got up to."
"Kissing? No. Kicking, yes." Mika smirked.
"Call it what you want. I just remember coming back here and once I was sober enough to pay attention to what the rest of the mountain was doing, I realized my little brother with the notorious attitude problem had turned into some kind of celebrity while I was gone." Said Arrow, winking.
Mika shrugged.
"Like I said, I got a lot done. Didn't take you long to catch up with me though. Once you got back on track it was like you never missed a day."
"Once you got me back on track." Arrow corrected him softly. "I'm here now because you were there then. That's the truth."
"Well, we're even now." Mika replied darkly, and Arrow nodded understandingly. The night of Kurda's exile was still fresh enough that Arrow didn't need a reminder of when exactly he'd returned the favour.
"Gods, it's going to be quiet here without us." Arrow commented, slightly more loudly as he looked around at the vast, empty room.
"Paris is going to have the most productive years of his life." Said Mika, finally re-sheathing his sword and leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head.
"Not too productive, I hope." Said Arrow. "The poor man's over 800 years old. Gods only know how he's still with us. At least he'll have Larten and Seba to help run the show until Darren gets it figured out."
"Paris is doing great." Said Mika sharply. "He'll live for another century. Easily."
"I sure hope so." Arrow sighed. "We're going to need all the help we can get."
A silence hung between them for a moment or two.
"What do you think is going to happen out there?" Mika wondered aloud.
"I hope we find the Vampaneze Lord and kill the bastard." Said Arrow viciously.
"We will." Said Mika. "We have to."
"You sound awfully sure about that."
"I have to be. There's no alternative."
Mika and Arrow sat in comfortable, contemplative silence for a long while.
"I'm going to miss this place." Said Arrow suddenly, his voice thicker than before. "You know I never used to love it as much as you did when we first came here. I was always happier out in the world. But now... I just... fuck, I'm going to miss it so much."
"Almost three hundred years of memories in this big old rock..." said Mika quietly.
"We sure left our mark on it." said Arrow affirmatively.
"And it left its mark on us." Mika echoed.
"Three hundred years... and it all comes down to this." Said Arrow.
"You say that like we're never coming back. We're coming back. We're both coming back. This is home."
"The clan is home." Arrow answered quietly. "The mountain is just like... our house, I guess."
Mika looked across at him with a funny expression on his face. Arrow wasn't exactly wrong, but Mika didn't fully agree either. But then again, this place wasn't the only home Arrow had ever known.
His thoughts were interrupted by Larten's voice reaching out through their mental connection.
LC: May I come in?
MVL: Have at it.
LC: ...Will you be so kind as to open the door?
MVL: Oh right. You're still not a Prince.
LC: And you are still not funny. Sire.
"Crepsley's coming in." Mika informed Arrow before placing his hand on his throne panel to open the door and admit the red-cloaked vampire. Larten strode briskly to the front, paused quickly to bow as though he'd almost forgotten. Then he ascended up the platform and sunk down wearily in Vancha/Darren's throne.
"You can't bow to us like a civilian and then plunk your ass down in a throne uninvited." Arrow chuckled. "Pick one or the other. And for the record, we don't care which."
Larten blushed and started to stand up again.
"I apologize, Sire." He muttered. "I forgot my place."
"Sit down, Larten." Mika sighed. "You know we're past all that. We're just harassing you for our own amusement. You should be used to this by now."
"I suppose we are all a little hard up for amusement these days." Said Larten with a stiff smile. "Are you both ready for your missions?"
"I'd be readier if we knew what the fuck we'd be doing once we got out there." Said Mika.
"You do not feel Warwent's tip from last week will lead to anything?" Larten inquired.
"It's Dean we're talking about." Mika grunted disdainfully. "Man's never had an intelligent thought in his life."
You may recall Dean Warwent being a thorn in the side and a pain in the ass to Mika, Kurda, Arra, and just about everyone else he'd ever crossed paths with. He'd been out in the field with a troop of several men for the past five months but just days ago he'd come through with the best information they'd had yet: he was tracking a group of vampaneze that seemed to be travelling together; something that wasn't all that common. The theory was that they were heading to find their "Lord".
"Mika, Dean's always been a goldmine of information. You know that." Arrow chided him gently. "It's the only reason neither of us have killed him yet. He's useful. I hate him as much as you do, but he's good at detective work. That's what we need right now."
"You do not like Dean?" Larten asked Mika.
Arrow laughed raucously.
"Don't ask him for his opinion on Dean!" He chortled. "We'll be stuck in here until the war ends without us!"
Mika rolled his eyes.
"Dean Warwent is a vile excuse for a vampire, a waste of skin, oxygen, and every other resource required to keep him alive. Whoever blooded that man into the clan should be arrested. I've been looking for an excuse to break his neck for decades and honestly at this point in my life I might do it just for fun next time I see him."
Larten pressed his lips together, clearly trying to contain a laugh
"This is why my team is going to meet up with Dean's, while Mika's will be heading up the coast to try to corner the handful of vampaneze that've been spotted in that region." Arrow clarified, still chuckling.
"You don't like him either." Mika growled.
"Oh, I can't stand the man. But I figured we'll be better off if you don't end up strangling our best spy." Arrow retorted.
"Probably for the better. I'm not above hunting for sport." Mika admitted with a wry smirk. Then Larten smirked too, and Mika shot him a sharp look.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, Sire. Ignore me."
"I don't think so. Spit it out."
"Once upon a time, you may recall I ran my mouth during a negotiation with a very dangerous enemy, at your prompting. You later told me I had not learned to hide my emotions as artfully as you had. And that is a direct quote! Forgive me, it seems you are more forthcoming with your opinions as of late."
Arrow laughed even louder yet and Mika smiled thinly at Larten for a moment.
"I remember that negotiation as clearly as if it was yesterday. And not a day goes by where I don't wish I'd reached across that table, wrapped my hand around Franz's neck, and squeezed until that sick little smile disappeared from his face." Said Mika at last. "At the very least, I wish I'd told him to his face how disgusting I thought he was. I regret the neutrality I worked to maintain, and I envy how honest you got to be in that moment."
Larten sighed heavily.
"It is easy to think that way in hindsight. But it was so early, the war had not even started yet. We had no idea how bad it was going to get." He replied.
"They sure as fuck hinted at it." Mika growled.
"Your priorities were right. We did our jobs. We kept the clan safe." Larten reasoned. "How the war ended up turning out was beyond us."
"We should've done more. I should've done more." Said Mika quietly.
"Okay! That's a trip down memory lane that neither of you need at this moment." Said Arrow loudly, looking bath and forth between Mika and Larten. "Our war isn't going to look anything like their war. So just... don't even go there, alright?"
"Have you noticed he's the rational one now?" Mika asked Larten seriously, gesturing at Arrow. "You've been away for a while. Things have changed."
"Well, Mika's taken up the mantle of the unstable one, so someone has to have their head on straight." Said Arrow matter-of-factly.
"See what I have to put up with?" Mika added in Larten's direction. The orange-haired vampire snorted.
"The life of a Prince is rough indeed." He commented.
"Someone has to keep him humble." Said Arrow with a wayward grin at Mika. "And no one else is going to. It's all up to me."
"You are both leaving awfully big shoes for Darren to fill here." Said Larten unexpectedly, more softly than before.
"Do you doubt him?" Mika asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Never!" Larten shot back quickly. "He will serve the clan as well as any Prince ever has." Then his voice dropped several octaves. "It is just a heavy burden to bear on such a small pair of shoulders. There are so many things I wish I had done differently, so none of this ever had to fall upon him."
"Well, personally I'm glad it fell upon him otherwise we'd be dead now." Said Arrow frankly. "And you probably would be too, Larten. I don't know if everything truly happens for a reason, but some things do."
"He'll be fine, Larten." Said Mika bluntly. "They're a lot tougher than we are. Gracie led her team to victory just four days after hearing the news about Kurda. I can't even remember which sport it was. Soccer, i think. But while she was doing that, you know what I was doing?"
"He was drunk on my floor being completely useless." Arrow muttered.
"I was drunk on Arrow's floor being completely useless." Mika confirmed drily.
Larten gave a hoarse, humourless chuckle.
"The night we lost Arra... I did not take it well, as you know. At that point, Darren had been to hell and back but all he cared about was making sure I was okay. He was burned, broken, bruised and terrified for his life. But he carried on as if he could not even feel it. It was... humbling."
Mika nodded slowly and gave that some thought before replying to Larten.
"He shouldn't be in that position, but he is. But I'm not going waste my energy worrying about him while I'm gone. Know why, Larten?" Mika answered at last.
"Because he is a wise and honourable young man." Said Larten hoarsely.
"True, but no." Said Mika. "I'm not going to worry because he'll have you."
Larten's face turned as red as his cloak.
"Sire, you flatter me."
Mika shook his head firmly.
"I've never flattered anyone, ever." He said. "I'm just being honest. Sure, I'm also trying to make you feel better since you look pathetic and it's depressing me a little bit... But I wholeheartedly supported your investiture when you were nominated, and I've never changed my mind."
"You think we'd let you spend all your time sitting up here hovering behind the kid if we didn't think you knew exactly what you're doing? If he was any other kid, and you were any other vampire, there's no way this would work." Arrow added. "We don't expect Darren to fill our shoes. That would be cruel. You, on the other hand..."
"You were born for it." Mika concluded with a brittle smile as Arrow nodded in agreement.
"I am not worthy of this praise." Said Larten weakly. Mika rolled his eyes and held up his hand impatiently.
"Save it." Said Mika flatly. "Just shut up and take the compliment. Because I know you know I don't go around handing them out on a regular basis."
Larten nodded curtly.
"Thank you for expressing your confidence in me, Sires. It means more than you know."
"Oh, we know." Said Arrow.
Mika smirked and reached behind his throne, withdrawing a mostly full bottle of whiskey. He uncapped it and took a long drink.
"Are you technically allowed to drink in here?" Larten inquired politely.
Mika shrugged.
"It's frowned upon. But who's going to stop me? Can't take it with me on the mission, so I might as well enjoy it while I can."
Arrow reached out expectantly and Mika passed him the bottle. Arrow took a hearty swig as well.
"Crepsley?" Said Arrow, holding the bottle out to Larten, grinning wickedly like a bad influence kid holding a flask in the back of a classroom. Larten appeared to contemplate it for a moment, then he too accepted it. He paused before holding the bottle to his lips.
"Cheers." He said, looking seriously at Mika and Arrow in turn. "To the mighty Vampire Princes who followed through with their own investitures." Then his eyes crinkled and a sheepish smile spread across his face. "And to those who tripped at the finish line."
"You mean you, right?" Said Arrow abruptly. "Cause I'm not drinking to Kurda."
"Obviously he's not referring to Kurda." Mika grunted, rolling his eyes.
"Yes. I was referring to myself." Said Larten drily. "Even in death may we be triumphant." He took a drink from the bottle as well before passing it back to Mika.
"Even in death may we be triumphant." Mika echoed tiredly. "But for the record, let's try to do a little better than that."
Black dog
Drinks from the water
Trying to cool his tongue
Like the king
Finds no peace
His work is never done
MISSION WEEK FOUR:
There's a good reason Mika never took on an official apprentice. As in, never blooded anyone with the intention of serving as a mentor. Not a chance, he'd think to himself. Break my back to help some rookie climb the ladders, or devote my energy to climbing those ladders myself? Tempting, but I'll pass.
He hadn't been looking for an apprentice when he'd found Arra. But he never truly felt like her mentor. He didn't raise her, or even blood her. All he really did was let her follow him around, vaguely tell her what to do every now and then, and punch anyone who sexually harassed her. Until he taught her to throw a good punch herself. Once she could do that, she really didn't need him. He trained her to fight, but that was it. It was nothing like Larten and Darren's relationship, or even his own and Paris's. He was less of a mentor and more of a coach. He had zero interest in being anyone's devoted teacher. Sure he enjoyed working with some of the most promising young vampires in the clan and they relished learning from him, but ultimately he worked better alone.
Then the war began and overnight he ended up as the glorified babysitter of half a dozen young vampires that were barely ready to take on some of the easier Trials of Initiation, much less head into war.
They were still weeks or even months away from seeing combat. Right now was a whole lot of walking and camping. Two of Mika's least favourite things. He'd gotten well-accustomed to having flitting privileges to and from the mountain but Paris had been very specific when he firmly told both Mika and Arrow to save it for emergencies.
"Sire, do you believe in Desmond Tiny's prophecy?" Arlo Bracken asked earnestly one night as the group set up camp in a way station deep in a some forest somewhere.
"I believe it's best to take Desmond Tiny seriously." Mika replied tensely.
"Do you think Kurda Smahlt's treachery was justified?" Piped up Markus.
Mika shot him a death glare at the sound of Kurda's name.
Gareth elbowed Markus in the ribs and Mika heard a poorly-muffled mutter of,
"You idiot! Don't bring up Kurda in front of him! They used to be like, mates or something."
"Oh fuck." Markus groaned.
"'Oh fuck' is right." Mika grunted dispassionately. "To answer your question, no. The clan trusted him so implicitly, he was receiving the highest honour any vampire can hope for. When a Prince is invested, he holds the lives of the clan in his very hands. It's a heavier burden than any of you can imagine. And he would've sold every one of us out. So no, there's no justifying a betrayal of trust to that extent. And I don't want to hear any of you mention his name again."
Then he lay down facing the wall, with his back to the concerned and confused men who accompanied him, and said nothing further.
Mika didn't actually hate them. As irritable and guarded he may have been, he truly didn't hate them. He just hated the situation that had become his life. But that wasn't new. He'd picked them himself, after all. Granted there wasn't a large pool left to choose from since he'd waited a year to head out into the field. But he assembled what he hoped would be the best possible strike team with the resources available:
Jakob Wiles. You may remember him from knocking Kurda off the bars a few years ago. Decent fighter, but what Mika liked was his intelligence. That was why Mika chose him to be Second-In-Command.
Gareth Tarl. The only General on the mission. He was also Dean Warwent's apprentice once, hence why Mika passed him over for Second-In-Command despite the fact that he was the second-most experienced vampire on the team after Mika. Because if there's one thing that still makes Mika happy these days, it's flipping Dean off.
Arlo Bracken. Excellent fighter. Mediocre intelligence. Good people skills. A solid, dependable soldier. Arlo and Jakob reminded Mika of himself and Arrow.
Markus Veld. Bit of a runt, but fast as lightning and clever to boot. His fighting skills needed work but Mika figured that once he gained some confidence, he'd be a force to be reckoned with. His mentor died in the battle in the tunnels last year, leaving Markus as something of an orphan. Mika saw potential in him, certainly. But he also felt bad for him.
Osric Cole. Quiet and unassuming, but he was good at reading people. That would undoubtedly come in handy.
So there they were, like it or not. Mika couldn't exactly call them the "A-Team" since Arrow had called dibs on that phrase weeks ago. And "the M-team" just sounded dumb. Gracie suggested "Mika's Minions" shortly before her summer break ended and while she thought it was hilarious, Mika just about threw up at the notion.
They didn't need a name. They weren't a band, or a sports team. They weren't going to become friends, and Mika wasn't in the business of mentorship. He already had a kid and she was smarter than all of them put together in Mika's not-so-humble opinion. They were simply a group of soldiers with a job to do.
And the sooner they did it, the sooner the war would be over and Mika could move on with the rest of his life and be that much closer to erasing every last memory of Kurda Fucking Smahlt.
MISSION WEEK SIX:
PS: Status report, Mika?
MVL: Same as last week.
PS: Surely it cannot be that bad.
MVL: I hate them all. They're stupid and incompetent and I hate them.
PS: You chose them.
MVL: Because you ordered all the good Generals to go off with their own troops and left the scraps to Arrow and me.
PS: We're at war, Mika. Divide and conquer, remember?
MVL: I'm going to divide Gareth's head from his body if he doesn't stop commenting on the scenery.
PS: I can see I'm not going to get any useful information from you today, so I will find something more productive to do.
MVL: Take care.
PS: Behave.
Night falls
Smoke on the water
Darkness closes in
Cold white hand, in the deep
Will drown you for your sins
MISSION WEEK TEN:
War times bring out the worst in people. Sometimes, good men do things they aren't proud of. Desperate acts born out of necessity. A soldier does what they need to do to survive.
"Alright, Wiles." Said Mika heavily to his underdog of a Lieutenant, Jakob Wiles one night as the two of them sat high on a hillside overlooking a sprawling human town below. "Ready for your first solo mission?"
"I won't let you down, Sire." Came the determined reply.
"Well, I'd sure hope not. Otherwise why are you even here?"
"What would you have me do?"
"I need you to pick up supplies. We're in desperate need. I'm counting on you."
"Uh... which supplies, Sire?"
"See that green light way down there, the one on the white building in the northwest corner of town?"
"Yes, Sire."
"That's called a Starbucks. I need you to make a stealth entrance into that Starbucks. You'll see humans but just act natural. Ask for an an extra-large dark roast vanilla latte. Real milk. None of that almond shit. Give them this-" Mika handed him a few crumpled bills he'd taken from his emergency stash back in the mountain - "That should be enough. If you have any left over, buy yourself a nice water or something."
Jakob stared back at him uncertainly and Mika got the impression he thought he was kidding.
"Sire, please forgive me for asking but... is this a serious request or are you testing me?" Jakob inquired.
Mika arched an eyebrow impatiently.
"Am I known for my practical jokes, Wiles?"
"Not as far as I'm aware, Sire." Said Jakob defeatedly.
"Smart boy." Said Mika with a brittle smile. "Go make me proud."
MISSION WEEK ELEVEN:
PS: Mika Ver Leth, could you please explain to me why on earth you are using your teammates as your personal butlers?
MVL: What?
PS: Don't you "what" me. I know you sent Jakob Wiles into a human establishment just to bring you back a coffee.
MVL: He's my lieutenant. His job is to help me. So he helped me by bringing me a coffee big enough to keep me from strangling every last one of the idiots.
PS: Unbelievable. You are unbelievable. I could strangle you right now. I don't need this, Mika. I expect better from you.
MVL: Sorry. Who's the snitch?
PS: You know how vampires talk. Jakob telepathically connected with his mentor Boris who's still in the mountain. Boris wanted to know what sorts of exciting things his apprentice was getting up to in the field, I suppose! So then Boris told Vanez. Vanez told Seba. And Seba told me.
MVL: If needing a pick-me-up during the worst year of my life is a crime, drag me back to the mountain and toss me on the stakes, I guess.
PS: It's not just the coffee, Mika. You haven't made a plan. You aren't communicating with your men. You aren't even trying to connect with them. You know Vanez checks in with his students weekly, right? You aren't the only one reporting back to the mountain.
MVL: What are you, the fucking Human Resources department? Am I supposed to be hosting team building sessions out here? Charna's Guts, Paris. We're at war here. Sorry I don't have time to hold their hands and sing campfire songs.
Although they were communicating telepathically, Mika could clearly hear Paris heave a long sigh of exasperation.
PS: I know you're having a difficult time trusting anyone after last year, but -
MVL: Tread carefully here, Paris. I'm not interested in a therapy session. Say what you want to say and get out of my head.
PS: Fine! I'm sick of tiptoeing around your fragile ego anyway.
MVL: Ouch.
PS: Do better, Mika. That's all I have to say to you. You're smart, figure it out.
MVL: Noted.
Paris withdrew from Mika's mind without another word, leaving him in the company of his own thoughts once more.
MISSION WEEK THIRTEEN:
A: Having fun yet?
MVL: So much fun. The time of my life.
A: It's the Frappuccinos, isn't it?
MVL: Oh, fuck off. It wasn't a Frappuccino. It was a latte. And it was one time. I was having a bad day.
A: I wasn't judging.
MVL: Who told you?
A: Paris kind of went on a bit of a rant to me last week.
MVL: The mountain clearly isn't keeping him busy enough.
A: He asked me to talk to you.
MVL: Oh boy.
A: Look, we all know you're not exactly in a good place but we can't afford any weak links-
MVL: WEAK LINK?
A: Yikes. Sorry. Bad phrasing. Just try, okay? You're such a good teacher when you want to-
MVL: I like teaching on my terms. This isn't my terms. Giving some pointers in the sporting halls is a far cry from this endless fucking camping trip.
A: We're at war. We don't get to pick our terms. They're young, and scared, and they're already intimidated because you're a Prince-
MVL: They're fully-blooded vampires. I'm not here to hold anyone's hand and tell them it'll be okay.
A: Well, you can't just resent them because they're there and Arra isn't. That's not fair. Give them a chance.
Mika felt his stomach clench at the mention of her name.
MVL: I told Paris I wasn't interested in formally mentoring anyone ever again after her. I was very clear.
A: You know, Arra isn't going to feel betrayed if you do.
MVL: Yeah, well... I still don't want to.
A: We know.
MVL: Enough about me. How's the "A-Team"?
A: Not bad. We're hoping to link up with Dean's team within a week or two. Then we'll see if his information amounted to anything.
MVL: Good luck. Spent any one-on-one time with Kaden?
A: Not really. We work well together. I'm glad I have her on my team, but I'm not pursuing anything deeper. I can't.
MVL: Why not?!
A: We're at war, Mika. So much could go wrong. I can't take another loss. Besides, the clan needs the Princes to be focused right now. All of the Princes.
MVL: I can't help but feel like that's a subtle jab at me.
A: Wasn't that subtle.
MVL: Gods, you're a pest.
A: Miss you too.
It's a lifelong expedition
Second-guessing your decisions
Trying to find out what's been missing
Pages keep on filling
MISSION WEEK SIXTEEN:
A little over a month after Jakob ran his first successful solo mission (when he describes it, he leaves out the fact it was a Starbucks run) Mika's strike team got their first taste of combat. They'd been tracking a small group of vampaneze for several days and they were closing in - they couldn't get too close and they had to make sure to stay downwind so the purple-skinned men didn't catch their scent. It was a delicate balance but Mika knew what he was doing. Maybe they'd lead them to the Lord of the Vampaneze.
One night, Mika told his troops to stay in the way station so he could flit into a nearby village to refill the group's emergency blood vials. It was easier for one vampire to go alone rather than have the whole team wandering around a human establishment.
Mika couldn't remember the last time he'd taken blood from a live human. He'd been in the mountain so long, he was used to just grabbing a mug here and there when he needed a sip. Truth be told, he much preferred the taste of either alcoholic or caffeinated beverages if he had a choice. But he was a vampire, and vampires drink blood. So that's that on that.
He'd stopped at four different houses like some kind of morbid Santa Claus, taking little bits from the oblivious humans that lived in them. He was looking forwards to getting the last two vials filled so he could get back to the way station.
He was preparing to scale a brick wall to slip in through an open window when he heard Jakob Wiles' voice come jackhammering into his mind.
JW: Sire, we need you back at camp. Hurry.
Mika paused.
MVL: I've been gone for two hours. What could have possibly-
JW: We were attacked by vampaneze. The winds changed direction and they smelled us. We had no warning.
MVL: Fuck. Did you kill them? Is anyone hurt?
JW: There were four. They had the element of surprise but we were able to kill two. But the others captured Arlo and Gareth. The rest of us are banged up but nothing serious.
MVL: FUCK. Can you reach them telepathically?
JW: No, Sire. I think they're unconscious. Or worse.
MVL: They're still alive. The vampaneze wouldn't capture them only to kill them immediately. Can you pick up their scent? Start tracking them?
JW: I don't know.
MVL: Try.
JW: Okay... I can smell them, I think. Oh gods...
MVL: Take a deep breath and get your head on straight. Either you smell them or you don't.
JW: I do. I smell them. Okay, they went... south.
MVL: Move south then. I'll link up with you shortly. But don't wait for me, get moving.
JW: What if we find more? What if they double back on us before you get back?
MVL: Jakob, you're supposed to be my second-in-command here. You don't sound very commanding.
JW: I'm sorry, Sire! I've never dealt with anything like this before!
Mika cussed and forced himself not to punch the brick wall out of frustration. Then he took a deep breath. And then another one. Of course Jakob had no idea what he was doing. Jakob wasn't even a General. He was just a young man who'd been thrown into a mission well above his skill level, but Mika had chosen him to be his second because out of all his (admittedly limited) options, Jakob seemed to use his brain more than most. He could have designated that role to Gareth Tarl who was actually a General, but Gareth was also Dean's one-time apprentice and Mika just couldn't give Dean the satisfaction of thinking he raised a half-decent vampire. So Jakob it was. But Mika couldn't exactly fault him for coming apart after watching two of his friends get dragged away.
MVL: Jakob, just relax. You can handle it. Start tracking them. I'll find you as soon as I can. Then we'll get them back. Understand?
JW: I understand.
MVL: Good.
Mika severed their mental connection and quickly hustled away in the direction from which he'd came. Once he was out of the town, he took off at a flit, hoping it wasn't too late.
Jakob had been on high alert ever since his brief contact with Mika, and the second he heard the bushes rustle he swung his sword so fiercely it would've left a hell of a mark if his aim had been true.
"Charna's Fucking Guts!" Mika yelped, quickly sidestepping the swinging blade.
"I'm sorry!" Jakob moaned. "I thought you were a vampaneze!"
Mika rolled his eyes, but swallowed a biting retort about looking first and slicing second.
"It's alright. Good reflexes." He told Jakob drily. He glanced at the young man in front of him, and then the others.
"Are you all alright?" Mika asked them, as gently as he could manage with the amount of adrenaline that was coursing through his body. They nodded determinedly.
"Alright then." Said Mika calmly. "Let's get our teammates back."
They painstakingly tracked the vampaneze back to a shabby-looking warehouse and Mika's felt this confirmed his suspicion. The young vampires would more than likely be tortured for information in this building. Anything relating to how the clan was handling the news of the Vampaneze Lord. Their strategies. Their locations. And whether or not the vampaneze got what they wanted, the vampires wouldn't be walking out of here alive. The hardest part was that the sun was rising as they arrived so they knew they had no choice but to wait for nightfall. So they slept fitfully.
"We're not going in until we can get a mental signal from Arlo or Gareth." Mika told the group as they watched the warehouse from the shelter of the forest. The canopy of trees and the rocky hills offered them enough shade to keep from burning in the daylight, and finally the sun was setting again. "They won't be unconscious forever. Once they're awake, they can give us a better idea of what we're up against."
"Sire, what if they don't wake up?" Markus asked. He was the youngest of the group. He'd only been a fully-blooded vampire for a few years.
"They'll wake up." Mika affirmed grimly. "Otherwise what would be the point of taking them prisoner? They're only useful if they're alive."
"They'll torture them, won't they?" Said Jakob, his face going white.
"I expect that's the intention." Mika replied heavily. "If we can get in quickly, then we can make it out before the sun rises. But if the hours pass and we don't hear from them, we're going to have to make camp for the day and wait until the sun goes down again. We can't risk getting-"
"Arlo's awake!" Jakob yelped suddenly.
"What can he tell us? Can he transmit you an image of where he is?" Mika demanded.
"I can barely understand him... oh gods, I think they're hurting him. I don't know what to do!" Jakob groaned, clutching his temples in agitation. "Can you take over, Sire? Maybe you'll know what to make of it!"
Mika took a deep breath, understanding that his trademark Sire Ver Leth attitude wouldn't get him very far in this situation. So instead of getting abrasive, he gently placed his hand on Jakob's trembling shoulder.
"Jakob, Arlo is your best friend, right?" He asked quietly.
"Right..."
"I barely know Arlo. I won't be able to connect with him as well as you can. Telepathy isn't like picking up a phone like a human. The closer you are with someone, the better you can communicate with them."
"He... he's not thinking clearly. It's like he's only half-there." Said Jakob after a moment's pause. "I can only catch words here and there."
"Reach further." Mika encouraged him in a low voice. "He's there somewhere. Just talk to him. Tell him we're here and we're coming as soon as we can."
"I can't make sense of anything he's saying!" Jakob practically howled in frustration and Mika had to stifle a growl of impatience and remind himself this was just a young man doing his best in a frightening situation, and he really wasn't all that much older than Gracie.
"Yes, you can." Said Mika evenly. "Just slow down and think. You know, I have a best friend too. I'm sure you've met Sire Arrow. I had to track him down like this once. It was hard, he was in a bad situation."
"Did you find him?" Jakob asked anxiously.
"Sort of." Mika sighed. "I tracked him to his last location before he more or less decided he didn't want to be found. So this is is different. But you just have to tune out everything else and focus on what he's telling you. Pretend I'm not even here."
"Okay..." Jakob gulped, closing his eyes and sitting quietly for several seconds as he put all of his strength into maintaining his tenuous connection with Arlo. Mika watched tensely.
"He doesn't know how many vampaneze are in the building but he saw at least three others besides the two that captured him. He's in a big room, but I don't know where in the building... Gareth's in a room across the hall but he can't hear him. He doesn't think Gareth is awake yet."
"Good." Said Mika breathlessly. "You're doing great. Can you pinpoint his location within the building? Narrow it down to which quadrant, at least?"
"I don't know... it's hard to tell."
"Don't think too hard." Mika urged. "Just tell me where his mental signal is coming from."
Jakob closed his eyes again.
"He... he's in the east corner!"
"We're going in!" Mika barked, standing up abruptly and signalling the others to do the same.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown
Heavy is the head that wears the crown
Mad man
Blood on the altar
The Queen will have his head
His ghosts will shake those rattling chains
Long after he's dead
This time it was the vampires who had the element of surprise. Mika quickly ran his sword through the vampaneze who was guarding the door before he could tip off whoever else was in the building.
"Stick together and be ready." Mika muttered as he led the group down the dirty hallway.
"I hear footsteps!" Markus hissed.
"That's why I said be ready."
When a cluster of vampaneze came spilling around the corner, Mika's first thought was how young they looked. He supposed they were in the same situation as the vampire clan... all hands on deck, ready or not. The vampaneze stopped about twenty feet from the vampires.
"Halt, vampires! Your kind has no business here!" Snarled the purple-skinned man at the front of the pack.
"If you don't want vampires here, maybe you shouldn't be dragging them in as captives." Mika retorted coolly.
"Your group was tracking us! Our strike was pre-emptive. If you think we're hiding the Vampaneze Lord in here, you'll be sorely disappointed." The vampaneze spat back, staring down his nose at Mika in disgust. Mika was taller than average, but this vampaneze towered over him.
"Hadn't considered that, to be honest. That would be a little too easy." Mika remarked, hoping Jakob would catch on to the fact that he was using this banter to buy him extra time to hone in on Arlo's location. And as long as Mika was talking, he was in control. Which was how he liked it.
"Leave now and we won't follow you." The vampaneze growled.
"That's very generous of you." Said Mika evenly. "Just hand over my travelling companions and we'll be on our way. They don't know anything worth your effort."
"So you can go track and harass more of our clan? Such entitlement. Disgusting." Grunted another of the vampaneze. "Must be a senior General."
Mika snorted derisively.
"I'll do you one better. I'm Sire Mika Ver Leth. I know my orders don't mean anything to you, but I can guarantee it'll be in your best interest to do what I say. Because I'm good at getting what I want. Call me entitled if you want, you can't hurt my feelings. But I'm not interested in spilling unnecessary blood here today. I won't be making this offer again, so think carefully."
"You should have kept that to yourself, Sire." Snapped the tall vampaneze, lacing the word "sire" with disgust and contempt. "Then maybe I would have considered it."
"Regardless of your clan's legendary authority issues, you still wouldn't have agreed to it either way." Mika replied, arching an eyebrow skeptically. Meanwhile the tall vampaneze narrowed his ruby-red eyes.
"No. I wouldn't have." He affirmed coldly. "Why offer, then? I know you think your time is valuable. But you're wasting mine. Either challenge us, or leave."
A chilly smile made its way across Mika's face.
"Fair enough. That was always Plan B. Will you tell us your names?" He inquired with crisp politeness.
"My name is Ector Brannon. My companions are Arnim Kors, Ryker Pierce, and Remi Sikorsky."
"Gentlemen." Said Mika with a curt nod to the rest of the vampaneze who were looking more battle-hungry by the second. "Well, I've already introduced myself. These are Jakob Wiles, Markus Veld, and Osric Cole. And the ones you captured are Arlo Bracken and Gareth Tarl. Tarl's a General, actually. Not a great one, but I'm still hoping to leave with him."
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance." Said Ector nastily. "Alright, Sire Ver Leth of the vampire clan. We challenge you and your men."
"We accept. Have at it." Mika replied. Then he paused and glanced over his shoulder at his followers who were looking less apprehensive and more determined by the second. For the first time, he felt a glimmer of pride in them. "Oh, sorry. I guess I should check first. Be a team player and all that. Do we accept?" Mika asked his group in a would-be casual manner, giving them a subtle smirk. Jakob caught Mika's eye and grinned back wickedly.
"Yes, Sire."
"Lovely. Let's go, then."
They got lucky in this case. There was one vampaneze to each vampire. The pseudo-leader of the pack - Ector - trained his gaze upon Mika as he approached. He was a tough-looking man with a fire blazing in his red eyes.
But Mika didn't hesitate. As much as he'd been a ghost of his former self in recent years, he had no trouble charging headlong towards that throng of enemies. In fact, he felt alive for the first time in months as he drew his blade and heard the metallic scrape as it connected with that of his opponent. The fear and doubt that had hung over him like a dark cloud since Kurda's betrayal evaporated, and was replaced by a steely determination and a grim sense of homecoming.
Mika may have been the "smart" Prince. He may have been more likely than say, Arrow or Vancha, to use his brain first and his brawn second. But when it came down to it, don't be fooled by his quick wit and analytical methodology. Ultimately Mika loved nothing better than a good fight. And this was a good fight.
Ector fought well, but fell upon Mika's blade in under five minutes. It was a clean kill. But not before the vampaneze had landed a few good hits of his own, and Mika knew he'd be sore tomorrow. At least he was feeling a hell of a lot better than the newly deceased Ector.
Mika made the death's touch sign, then whipped around to see how the others were faring. And honestly, they were doing better than he expected. One of the other vampaneze - Remi - was already dead. Jakob was duelling Arnim, and Osric and Markus were tag-teaming Ryker, who was also the biggest. Mika slipped in beside Jakob and distracted Arnim.
"Go get Arlo and Gareth." Mika ordered him. I've got this one."
Jakob nodded deftly and continued down the hall, stepping over the dead vampaneze.
Ector may have been the big mouth of the group but Arnim actually seemed to be a tougher fighter. Mika had his work cut out for him. It didn't help that he kept glancing over at Markus and Osric to make sure they were holding up alright. They were the least experienced of the group, and their opponent was fierce.
Then Mika felt Arnim's dagger blade lodge itself between his ribs and he figured he'd better stay in his own lane and leave his two young charges to figure it out on their own.
Fuck sakes. This is why I don't do apprentices, he thought to himself, grunting in pain as Arnim wrenched the dagger free to take another swing at him.
"Too slow, Prince!" Arnim hooted gleefully. Mika rolled his eyes and drove his sword at the vampaneze's chest. Arnim ducked just in time but Mika's blade still drew a good amount of blood as it sliced the top of his shoulder.
"Too slow, dickhead." Mika mocked disdainfully.
"Call me names it it pleases you, the you're the one trespassing!" Arnim snarled, visibly enraged at Mika's remark. "We have done nothing to you, yet you drag your men in here and act like you own the place!"
Arnim sliced his dagger quickly in the direction of Mika's throat but Mika diverted it at the last second with a flick of his sword.
"You dragged our men in to be tortured!" Mika replied in exasperation as he launched another attack which Arnim wasn't able to evade. Mika's sword caught him heavily in the side and the vampaneze stumbled as he began to bleed.
"And you wouldn't have done the same if you'd found our troop first?" Arnim growled up at Mika as he swayed. "You aren't better than us!"
Mika glared and ended Arnim's life with a deftly placed sword strike through his heart. Arnim crumbled to the floor and said no more.
"Even in death may you be triumphant." Mika grumbled, bending down to close Arnim's eyelids for the last time.
"Are you two done yet?" He sighed irritably in Osric and Markus's direction. Admittedly, Arnim's parting comments had bothered Mika more than he was willing to let on.
"We're fine, Sire!" Osric hollered as he ducked Ryker's blade. "Go help Jakob!"
"As you wish, boss." Mika replied drily, arching his eyebrows while Osric flashed him a sheepish smile.
Mika turned and headed up the corridor in the direction Jakob had gone. And then like a miracle from the gods (maybe they'd decided to take a day off from shitting on Mika's life) suddenly there was Jakob himself lurching around the corner. But he wasn't alone, he was supporting Arlo who looked to be in bad shape but was alive nevertheless. Gareth was on Arlo's other side, helping him along. Gareth didn't appear to have had a turn on the torture rack yet. Mika had to bite back a bitchy comment about how even the vampaneze didn't think Gareth was first choice material. (He'd share that with Arrow later).
"I told you. You barely needed me." Said Mika, flashing a quick, tense smile at Jakob. "Let's get the fuck out of here."
Arlo had just enough strength left to flit, but barely. So the group made their way back to a way station they'd stayed in two nights prior. This was no time to go searching for new accommodations.
Lucky it wasn't far. Relatively, anyway. But it was far enough to take a toll on Arlo's already damaged body. The young man collapsed as soon as they arrived at the way station. Mika figured that would happen, but they were safe out here so Arlo would have plenty of time to recover. Jakob and Marius carefully carried him in and did their best to make a comfortable place for him to rest and recover.
The temperature was rapidly dropping so Osric built a fire to keep somewhat warm. Then he went with Marius and Gareth to hunt a deer to eat. Mika did a brief patrol of the area to make sure there weren't any hidden threats lurking around the corner. When he returned to the way station, Jakob was still huddled in the corner of the dilapidated little shed. He was refusing to leave Arlo's side. A flicker of motion caught Mika's eye; he could've sworn he saw Jakob quickly let go of Arlo's limp hand as Mika approached.
Throughout the mission, Mika had drawn parallels from Jakob and Arlo to himself and Arrow, respectively. They were very close, they worked well together, and seemed to trust each other implicitly.
But now Mika had a different thought. Maybe Arlo wasn't Jakob's Arrow. Maybe he was Jakob's Kurda.
Also, Mika had no idea why Jakob cared if Mika witnessed them holding hands or not. Seeing as Mika himself recently had a notoriously public and notoriously tumultuous relationship with a man, after all. Of course, the clan was less concerned with the fact that it was a man, and more baffled by the fact it was Kurda. Vampires may have been backwards in a lot of ways, but in some ways they were further along than humans when it came to concepts like acceptance. Mostly they just thought it was bizarre that Mika Ver Leth, who could've had anyone he wanted, chose Kurda Smahlt. But whatever.
"How's he doing?" Mika inquired offhandedly as he sat down on the floor a few feet away.
"He's just... sleeping." Said Jakob quietly, not looking up at Mika. "I don't know what to do."
"Well, you can't really do anything right now. His body needs to rest. Heal itself from whatever they did to him. The flit didn't do him any favours but now that we're far away from that place, he can get the rest he needs." Mika explained calmly.
Jakob turned his eyes from Arlo's face to Mika's.
"What if he doesn't wake up?"
Mika allowed himself to meet Jakob's uncertain gaze with his best attempt at a reassuring expression.
"He will wake up, Jakob. I've seen much worse. Trust me."
"Worse than this?" Arlo asked, anxiety written all over his face.
Mika exhaled a breath of humourless laughter.
"You have no idea."
No soul knows his trouble
High upon his throne
Loved by few and judged by many
He bares that weight alone
SIX YEARS AGO:
Hindsight being 20/20, Mika couldn't believe he'd ever looked forwards to this mission. The mission where Kurda had cheated death on an exploding rooftop when he made a sacrifice play.
Mika had a front-row view of the explosion, and he knew it would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. He was right.
For five minutes, he thought Kurda was dead. For five minutes he screamed as though his body was engulfed in flames like the wreckage of the hotel in front of him. He didn't know it at the time, but that was only the first of the many hits his psyche would take over the next half dozen years. The first step of a (literally) royal downward spiral. The moment Mika Ver Leth realized that he physically couldn't function in a world without Kurda Smahlt.
Mika thought he'd been in love with Kurda before that night, but it turned out he didn't even understand the true depth of it. Until sirens were wailing in the background, smoke was filling the air, and it took three grown vampires to hold him back from running into that collapsing building as if there was a chance anything could possibly be alive in there.
And as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. It was a miracle. A real-life nightmare that he'd woken up from when he heard Kurda's voice in his head calling for help.
Even years later, the memory of finding Kurda on the ground, broken and burned after leaping from the roof not a second too late, would feel like a fever dream. Mika remembered how he sat on the ground cradling Kurda as though if he relaxed his grip for a second he'd disappear again. He remembered looking up at Arrow, feeling numb and disoriented as every semblance of control slipped through his fingers. He was completely helpless. All feelings he'd never experienced to this extent, much less in the middle of a crucial clan mission. What if Kurda hadn't made it out alive? And what if Arrow or Vancha hadn't been there to take control of the mission?
Mika knew without a shadow of a doubt that if it had happened that way, he wouldn't have been able to stand back up, carry on, be the rock the others expected him to be. He would've failed as a Prince. And that was the moment the reality sank in like a suffocating blanket of fog. Love wasn't a strong enough word; the man was Mika's weakness in the purest form.
And fuck, that was a lot to process.
Kurda's injuries were extensive and even though he was alive, he was far from being out of the woods. They were lucky to find a deserted house so they could lay low and recuperate.
Kurda had fallen asleep in Mika's arms as they walked to the house, but he jerked awake and cried out in pain at the sudden movement when Mika lowered him onto the bed. Mika flinched at the sound.
"I'm sorry." He croaked. "It's okay, Kurda. You're safe, we won. You did it. I'm here. We're all here."
Arrow and Gavner carried Vancha into the bedroom across the hall and Mika could hear the green-haired Prince cussing in pain from his broken leg. Kaden Hale paused in the doorway to check on Mika and Kurda for a moment.
"I'm going to go through the house and see what medical supplies I can find for him." She said. Mika nodded, not looking up at her. "Do you need anything, Mika?" She added quietly.
"No. I'm okay." Mika mumbled, not noticing or caring that she'd addressed him by his first name.
"Arrow warned me you'd say that." Said Kaden wearily before retreating.
Mika didn't take his eyes off Kurda the entire time she was gone. Kurda was bleeding from wounds on his chest and shoulders, and his arms were marred by horrible burns. He seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. One minute he'd be lucid and focused on Mika, but then his eyes would glaze over and he'd become unresponsive. The overwhelming relief Mika had felt upon finding Kurda began to erode as he realized the severity of the situation; that this still might not be a happy ending.
Mika did his best to keep Kurda awake and alert. He sat on the bed, keeping a firm grip on the blond's bloodstained hand and talking to him in a low, soothing voice. But that was difficult to do when Mika had never felt less calm in his life. Even as he murmured over and over that everything was okay, Mika felt like his own lungs were closing, like all the oxygen was being sucked from the room.
It wasn't the first time he'd felt like that, nor would it be the last. But it was the first time Kurda was the catalyst of the panic. Mika had always handled stress incredibly well - a skill necessary in his line of work - but there was a certain threshold where the line was drawn. And when that limit was reached, he essentially imploded into himself and ceased to function.
And by this point he was very, very much past the limit.
Kaden quickly returned with a basket of mostly-expired ointments, wash clothes, and strips of towel she'd shredded to make bandages. Mika silently nodded his thanks and went to work.
He didn't realize how severely his hands were shaking until attempted to gently wipe the most serious of Kurda's wounds with the warm soapy cloth, and the blond General yelped in pain as the sensitive skin was disturbed. Mika recoiled in guilt and horror.
"I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to..." Mika gasped, throat raw from both smoke inhalation and fighting a losing battle to keep his emotions in check until Kurda was properly cared for. Mika didn't even realize Kaden was still in the room until he heard her speak:
"Are you sure you're okay? Can I help you?"
She sat down on the bed on the opposite side of Kurda and took a critical look at his wounds.
"I'm fine." Mika forced out.
"You're not fine." Kaden insisted, shooting Mika a meaningful glance. "You're shaking, you're bleeding, and you look like you're about to throw up all over him."
"Hale, go see if Sire Arrow needs your help." Mika ordered her through gritted teeth. She rolled her green eyes at him.
"He already ordered me to stay in this room and help you while he's busy splinting Sire March's leg. He also ordered me to ignore any contradicting orders from you." She informed him resignedly. Her tone was kind but her eyes said, 'Come on, man. Work with me here'.
Mika exhaled in frustration but couldn't be bothered to come back with a sarcastic comment. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and saw spots flash in his vision. For a moment he felt light-headed and it must have showed. He reached for the wash cloth again but could barely hold it in his trembling hands.
Kaden deftly reached out and placed her palm on the back of Mika's hand. He tried to meet her eyes but the room was spinning, he couldn't focus. He knew he had a concussion but he couldn't spare any mental energy on himself until Kurda was looked after.
"Just let me do it." Kaden urged in a low, determined voice as she tried to ease the cloth out of Mika's hand. "I've got this, okay? Give me the cloth... there. Thank you. Just hold his hand and keep him distracted - it's going to hurt."
Mika finally relented and sagged back into the dusty pillows of the long-forgotten bed.
"Hey. Look at me." He murmured to Kurda, his voice coming out as a harsh rasp. Kurda weakly tilted his head to the side so he could see Mika better. Kurda tried to speak but all that came out was a strained whimper.
"Shhhh..." Mika whispered. "It's okay. I'm here, babe. I got you." He leaned in as close as he could without touching the exposed wounds and carefully ran his fingers through Kurda's hair with one hand. In his other hand he held Kurda's like a lifeline and whispered a barely audible stream of reassurance every time Kurda flinched. Mika was well beyond caring that there was someone else here bearing witness to a level of vulnerability few of his clan mates would ever see. But Kaden was completely focused on the task at hand. She worked swiftly but it was still a long process. Most of the damage was too severe to be patched up with a bit of supercharged vampiric saliva. But if they could fend off infection, his body would be able to heal itself.
"That's the best we can do for now." She said at last, almost an hour later. "The rest is up to him."
"Thank you." Mika croaked out, voice brittle with exhaustion.
"Will you take care of yourself now? Or do I need to go get Arrow to hold you down so I can patch you up?" She inquired briskly in a way that reminded him strongly of Arra.
"Most of my bleeding is internal." Mika mumbled. "That's where the blood's supposed to be."
"Oh my gods. You're actually worse than Arrow and that is truly saying something." She sighed. She looked just as tired as Mika felt but there was a thin layer of amusement on her face.
"Careful, General." Said Mika, but without any real bite to his words. He slowly eased himself back onto the bed so he could lay mostly flat, but propped up on the pillows just enough so he could keep an eye on Kurda.
"My apologies, Sire." She replied, rolling her eyes ever so slightly. "Are you sure there's nothing you need? I'm just about done playing medic for the night but you might as well tell me before I put the first-aid supplies away."
Mika exhaled a long, weary sigh.
"Want my diagnosis? I have a moderate-to-severe concussion. Five broken ribs. Two on the left side, three on the right. Sprained left wrist. Not sure what's going on in my neck but Fox just about crushed it so it's seen better days and it hurts like a fucking bitch. New hairline fracture on my left collarbone but I already broke that last year, and I didn't let it heal properly so that's on me I guess. Did I mention the moderate-to-severe concussion?"
Kaden suppressed a snort of laughter.
"Sounds like you've done this before."
"Only a few hundred times. Don't worry, Hale. When I say I'm good, I'm good." Mika affirmed with finality.
"You're right. Bandages won't get you very far with all that." She admitted. "Be careful with that concussion, though. Wouldn't want you end up with permanent brain damage. Otherwise who'd make Arrow's schedules for him?"
Mika couldn't help it. He laughed at that. He regretted it immediately when a shockwave of pain sprang up from his ribs, but it was worth it for the brief moment of reprieve from a night that had been hell on earth.
"Go get some rest, Hale. That's an order." Said Mika gently when the moment had passed.
"As you wish, Sire." She replied, standing up and heading for the door.
"Good work today." Mika added as an afterthought. She turned back to smile at him, but he didn't see it. His gaze had refocused on Kurda and he didn't intend to look at anything else until he knew his other half, his better half, was going to pull through.
Mika didn't allow himself to sleep a wink. He couldn't. Even if he had to prop his eyelids open with toothpicks, he'd stay awake until Kurda came back to him.
There was an old radio in the room, he flicked it on to keep himself from drifting off. The hours ticked by until they blurred together. The only sound he heard besides the radio was the distant snores of Gavner and Vancha, and even those became white noise eventually.
Mika didn't move until the sun began to rise, then he got up to draw the blinds and darken the room before returning the bed.
Another hour passed, and finally he heard it. It was such a soft, quiet sound but it was enough to set Mika's world right-side-up once more.
"Ughhh... Mika?" Kurda whined suddenly. His eyelids began to flutter until at last Mika had an unobstructed view of those heartbreakingly perfect turquoise eyes.
"I'm here." Mika reassured him breathlessly, sitting upright and squeezing Kurda's hand. "I'm right here."
"What happened?" Kurda groaned weakly, clearly still in a lot of pain. "Did... did I make it?"
"Yeah, babe." Mika croaked. His voice broke. "You made it. Don't know how, but you made it. Fuck, Kurda... Never do that to me again."
"I'll try my best... where are we?"
"Some random human's house. No one's living in it at the moment, so we broke in. Needed somewhere safe to rest."
"Is everyone else okay?"
"Vancha broke his leg but everyone else is just banged up. How are you feeling?"
"...Like I was set on fire and thrown off a building." Kurda rasped.
"That just about covers it." Said Mika with a grim smile as tears of relief pooled in his eyes.
"How long was I out?"
"Almost five hours. You were kind of in and out of it when we first got here. Kaden cleaned you up, and you passed out while she was doing that. Do you remember any of it?" Mika asked hopefully.
"No, I don't remember anything after being on the roof." Said Kurda. "All I know is... I kept hearing your voice. I don't know if I was dreaming or not. But it felt like I was moving towards it..."
"That was real." Mika whispered. He lay down next to Kurda; taking care to keep some distance between their bodies lest he brush up against a sensitive injury, and nestled his forehead against Kurda's temple. That small amount of physical contact was enough to restore almost all of his fractured inner peace.
Inner peace was hard to come by in Mika's world. It was true that he was smart, successful, adaptable, and pretty happy on average - despite what his his chronic resting bitch face would lead you to believe. But he always had at least a hundred thoughts rattling around in his brain even at the best of times. Relaxation had never come easily to him - maybe that was why he he was so high-functioning in all aspects of his life.
But there was something about Kurda that just completely disarmed that one piece of his brain that never let him truly shut off and rest. Kurda had this supernatural ability to override Mika's borderline-neurotic need to constantly exist in a state of overdrive. All it took was one touch, one look, one word of reassurance.
Kurda was his safe place. Kurda was home.
Key word: Was.
It's a lifelong expedition
Second-guessing your decisions
Trying to find out what's been missing
And the pages keep on filling
PRESENT DAY:
"Sire? Hey, Sire Ver Leth? Hello?"
It wasn't until Jakob finally plucked up the courage to reach out and poke Mika in the arm that Mika jolted back to reality and realized just how far he'd travelled down memory lane.
"Fuck, sorry. I was thinking about something else." He mumbled.
"It's okay. You just looked... zoned out." Said Jakob ruefully. "I just asked if- if you were okay?"
Mika thought about that for a moment. His body ached terribly but that was the norm after a fight like that. However, there was sharp, throbbing pain localized to his right side.
"I forgot I got stabbed." He remarked, sliding his hand under his shirt and gingerly running it down his rib cage. Sure enough, he quickly located the wound. He flinched sharply as it stung, and when he withdrew his hand his fingers were covered in blood. It wasn't bleeding profusely but it wasn't doing him any favours either "Charna's Guts. That's the second time in less than two years... fuck me, right?" He chuckled as an afterthought. More to himself than to Jakob. Who looked increasingly concerned.
"The first time was at the second night of the Festival last year, before all of our lives went to shit." Mika explained conversationally. "I was wasted. Obviously. A few hours in, I realized there was a massive knife in my back. So the rest of the night was a write-off, but I came back strong for round three."
"I... I'm sorry to hear that, Sire. I hope the next Festival goes better for you." Said Jakob apprehensively, quirking an eyebrow.
"Oh, no. I had a great time. That's just how it goes sometimes." Mika clarified with a shrug. Jakob frowned. Clearly the younger man didn't quite know what to make of Mika yet. But he would.
"I suppose tonight's stabbing was probably less fun." Jakob ventured cautiously with a small smile.
"That depends. I don't suppose you packed a bottle of whiskey in your bag?" Mika asked with an entirely straight face.
"Regrettably not, Sire."
"It's alright, me neither. Paris said I had to be on my best behaviour." Said Mika frankly. He felt a strange sense of triumph as Jakob let out a weak laugh.
"Can I do anything for you?" Jakob asked ruefully. "I owe you. Your advice really helped me today. I don't know what I would have done otherwise."
"Well, I can't really get a good look at the wound. You can tell me how bad it is." Said Mika. He lifted his shirt and angled his body so Jakob could get a clear view of the wound. Jakob inched closer and dutifully surveyed the injury.
"It's pretty deep but I don't think it was a very big blade. Looks like it went right between your ribs."
"That's what it feels like. Think it needs stitches?" Mika mused. He knew the answer but he wanted to see how Jakob would respond.
"Uh... I don't know, Sire. I don't know anything about this kind of thing."
"Well, take your best guess because I can't exactly bend my neck far enough to look at it with my own eyes." Mika insisted firmly but gently. Jakob sighed.
"Okay... it's narrow. And it's a clean cut. As long as you don't let it get infected, I think you'll be okay. But you'll probably have a scar." He told Mika after a few moments of consideration.
Mika smiled wryly and pulled his shirt back down.
"Good. Was that so hard, Wiles?"
"Honestly? Yes." The younger vampire replied reproachfully, a slightly indignant gleam in his eye. "I didn't exactly sign up to provide medical consultations to the Princes. So if you die of complications, don't blame me."
Mika really had to fight to suppress a chuckle at that one. He reached into his travel bag and withdrew a cloth which he used to reach back under his shirt and dab at the wound.
"First of all, I'd have to be a special kind of incompetent to die from one little stab wound." He told Jakob bluntly. "Second of all, this is precisely what you sighed up for. No matter what the problem is, you have to be decisive."
Jakob shot him a look of profound confusion, and Mika elaborated:
"You could train for decades in Vampire Mountain. You could become the best fighter in the whole clan but that's useless if you don't know how to survive in the real world. And there's no easy way to learn those skills. It's trial and error. It's nights like tonight, having to do things you're not comfortable with, because the universe doesn't care if you feel confident or not. This is how you learn to survive." He explained patiently as Jakob listened with rapt attention.
"Look, I know you're young and you don't have enough experience to do what I expect you to do. Yet. But that's how the game works. We play with the hands we're dealt. I'm sure you'd rather be enjoying your cub years, drinking your way around the world. And that doesn't hurt my feelings, trust me. You think I wouldn't rather be working with Sire Arrow or March on this?Don't take it personally." Mika continued matter-of-factly. Jakob's eyes narrowed shrewdly as he took in the Prince's words. He looked like he was considering his words carefully, but he didn't respond directly to Mika's comment. Instead his eyes returned to his unconscious friend
"Sire, do think it's warm enough in here? For Arlo?" He asked after a moment.
"It's a little cool." Said Mika contemplatively. "Did you pack a blanket in your travel bag?"
"You're looking at it." Said Jakob woefully, gesturing at the threadbare blanket that was already wrapped around Arlo's unconscious form. Mika frowned, and reached for his own bag. He withdrew his own personal blanket, neatly folded and much thicker than Jakob's. Mika carefully unfolded it and laid it across Arlo while Jakob watched in astonishment.
"Sire, I can't let you -" he began, but Mika swiftly cut him off.
"I do what I want, Wiles. That's that on that."
"I... I... Thank you." Jakob choked out, his face reddening.
"Now what I want is to go sit outside by the fire. I suspect the others will be back with meat soon, then I'll help them prepare it." Mika added. "But you should probably stay in here with Arlo in case he wakes up, yeah?"
"Yeah. I'll definitely do that." Jakob rasped.
"Good." Said Mika nonchalantly as he rose to his feet. But he paused before he reached the doorframe. "Oh, you should try talking to Arlo. There's a good chance he can hear you, even while he's out of it. It'll... it'll help. Trust me."
Mika hadn't been strong after the mission years ago when he almost lost Kurda. Ultimately he still lost Kurda in the end, but he made it though to the other side. And never again would he allow himself be that weak. Not when other vampires were counting on him to for direction and stability. Only now did he understand that putting his heart and soul in someone else's was the most dangerous thing he'd ever done.
When the other vampires returned with the deer they'd hunted, Mika thanked them graciously and proceeded to help them skin and cook it, as if he wasn't accustomed to being waited on every day of his life. He helped them tend the campfire, and later he told them a slightly amusing story about the first time he went on a solo mission with Arrow and they botched it completely. They shared a laugh, and for the first time the team would start feeling like a team.
Because when it all came down to it, the truth was they were in the early stages of what was looking like a long, ugly war. Vampire Mountain was thousands of miles away and neither the universe, the wilderness nor the enemy cared that Mika was a Prince, or that Gareth was a (shitty) General, or that the others were just a ragtag band of inexperienced but determined cubs.
Mika would step up and be the leader he needed to be, but the era of snarky comments and "Hey you, fetch my Starbucks" had run its course. Now Mika regretted it had happened at all. It wasn't fair to the clan, or to his team. It had taken a near-miss for him to realize they deserved so much better than what he'd been giving him. The aftershock of Kurda's betrayal had all but taken Mika out of the game, but he hadn't yet dug himself into a hole so deep he couldn't pull himself back out.
And when he did, his team was there waiting for him. He didn't deserve their respect yet, but he intended to earn it. And for that opportunity, he considered himself damn lucky.
Crying out
Ooh go and wake the king
Call to arms
For those who kiss the ring
Stand your ground
Yeah the walls are coming down
It's do or die
Do or die
ONE YEAR LATER:
PS: Good evening, Mika.
MVL: It's been a while, Paris. Thought you forgot about me.
PS: Couldn't if I tried. And I must admit, at one point last year I did try.
MVL: Ouch.
PS: Status report?
MVL: Making progress. Caught a lone vampaneze last month. Didn't get much from him but the way he phrased his words suggested the Vampaneze Lord hasn't been blooded yet.
PS: Well, that's reassuring. I have a job for you. Yebba's strike team is about six hundred miles east of you. They were attacked yesterday. Their numbers were cut in half, and the survivors are injured gravely. I need you to go protect them while they're weak. Under normal circumstances the injured would go seek an honourable death, but -
MVL: - but these circumstances aren't normal. I know.
PS: Precisely. We can't afford to waste good men right now.
MVL: We'll go to them first thing tomorrow night.
PS: Good. And how are you doing, Mika?
MVL: Better. Honestly.
PS: You seem better. I'm relieved.
MVL: Had a rocky start but the team's started to click. They work well together. They're still green but they're learning.
PS: I'm sure that's a total coincidence and has nothing to do with you finally pulling your head out of your own ass.
Mika laughed out loud, and Gareth promptly snapped awake at the sound. (They were currently crammed like sardines in an underground cave to wait out the daylight. Everyone was sleeping except for Mika).
"Are you talking to Sire Arrow again? With all due respect, I'd prefer if you didn't tell him the story about me falling out of the tree last week." Gareth mumbled sleepily.
"Just giving Paris a status report." Mika corrected. "Sorry to wake you. And don't worry, I won't be debuting that story til next council. Can't do it justice without the sound effects." He added seriously.
Gareth shot him a reproachful glare but there was good-humoured gleam in his eye. Yes, Mika even sort of got along with Gareth these days.
PS: Still awake?
MVL: Yeah. Sorry. And you're right, it's definitely just a coincidence.
PS: Regardless, I'm very pleased to see your old self is making a return. He was missed.
MVL: Thanks, Paris. I won't fail you again.
PS: My dear, you've never failed me. Not even when I've implied otherwise.
MVL: While inaccurate, I appreciate the sentiment. Thanks for calling me out on my bullshit. I didn't want to hear it then, but I needed to.
PS: Pressure makes diamonds. I have to be hard on you because no one else will.
MVL: When this war is over, I think I'd like to just be an average rock for a while.
PS: I don't think you'd be very good at being average. But if we win this war, you're welcome to try.
MVL: I miss you.
PS: I miss you too.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown
Heavy is the head that wears the crown