At last! Sorry this took so long. This was exquisitely difficult to write for about a thousand different reasons but I finally hit the "it's as good as it's gonna get" wall, so we are moving on!
There's a lot of emotional angst in here, but that's kind of my thing. If you haven't figured that out in 20 chapters then I don't know what to tell you.
The first chunk of this chapter is the last chunk of precious chapter - re-written from Kurda's POV because I love that shit.
Also, I'm sorry I went and put Gracie through it. I know that may have been jarring - but I've known this part of the plotline was coming since like... oh god I want to say August? Occasionally I put a lot of thought into things, and this was one of those times.
Thank you for all your feedback via comments and Tumblr/Discord messages! You guys are literal angels. You feed my soul in ways you cannot even comprehend and I love you so much.
On to chapter 19! (And we won't talk about how irritated I am about the length differences between this story and the three that came before it).
Chapter 18: Rest Your Head, I'm Permanent
Song:Permanent by David Cook
Is this the moment where I look you in the eye?
Forgive my broken promise that you'll never see me cry
And everything, it will surely change
Even if I tell you I won't go away today
"Come back to the mountain with me." Mika barely managed to croak out as they sat there side by side, huddled together on that park bench. Both reeling after the chilling encounter with the vampaneze that had almost certainly altered the trajectory of their daughter's life.
Kurda felt his soul leave his body. If he hadn't known the crippling anguish it had surely taken for Mika to utter those words, Kurda would've resented him for suggesting it.
Of course Kurda wanted to go back. Of course he wanted to go home. But it wasn't his home anymore.
"You know I can't do that." Said Kurda, his voice low and fractured by bitterness. He reached out instinctively to rest his hand longingly on Mika's face. And the way Mika leaned into it was devastating. Kurda shifted sideways on the bench so he was facing Mika more directly. Time stood still as their foreheads pressed together. Kurda exhaled as felt Mika reach around to fingers run through that platinum mane he'd always been so enthralled by. Their lips maintained a distance. But this physical contact was so much more intimate than any kiss. This was more intimate than sex itself. Eventually Mika pulled back slightly; Kurda heard him inhale shakily.
What Mika said: "I'll make it so you can."
What Kurda heard: Help me. Someone please fucking help me.
Kurda knew there were countless different definitions of strength, and he over time he'd come to understand he was strong in his own way. But Mika had always been the tough one. Tough as nails. Hard as diamond. Sure, Kurda had accessed a more vulnerable side of him during the course of their relationship that most vampires didn't see. But the fact remained that Mika had never caved easily, in any context. So for him to sound this defeated... it was a red flag, tornado siren, fire alarm.
Kurda already accepted the face that his exile sentence, as he knew it, had come to an end. He knew that the second he found out Gracie was in danger. For seven years he'd been living in his "new normal". What had been new was now old - it was over.
Kurda took a deep breath.
"That's just the shock talking, Mika." Kurda whispered. The effort it took to keep his voice steady, to not shatter like glass all over again, was astronomical. He didn't think he had any tears left in his body after earlier but he didn't want to test that theory. "You and I both know it's not that simple."
"Then what are you going to do? Go home and sit in your cabin? Watch the boats in the harbour all day like this never happened?" Mika snapped, hurt and panic flashing in his steely eyes. How abruptly he could still ricochet back to his default restrained aggression. "While I help Gracie pick up the pieces of the life, on top of holding the clan together?"
"Mika..."
"I can't handle this alone anymore, Kurda!" Mika continued. Kurda flinched. He couldn't believe Mika Fuck-You-I'll-Do-It-Myself Ver Leth actually managed to verbalized that statement. His voice increased in volume but it didn't have the same bite it used to. Gone was the easy, rock-solid cadence he'd always maintained so naturally, even during arguments. He was spiralling. He'd been spiralling since long before tonight. "Every time I think I can't possibly fall lower, something else happens! What's next?! What's going to-"
"Babe. Stop." Kurda murmured, locking his gaze onto Mika's. And that was all it took. Two simple words. He watched as Mika's entire body relaxed. Watched the fight fade from his eyes as he stared back at Kurda. "Look at me. I know you've been dealing with my fallout alone this whole time. I know it's been hell. Apologizing won't change the past, but I swear to you, Mika: you're not alone anymore. I may not be there beside you, but I'm still in it with you. And I will not rest until we find a way to end this once and for all." Kurda finished, steeled by the intensity of the emotions surging through his body.
And he meant it. By the gods, he meant every single fucking word. His entire body was shaking - but not in grief or panic. It was white-hot rage that burned within him. He was done sitting on the sidelines. Done playing spectator while Mika ran for his life in this marathon from hell that didn't seem to have a finish line.
Mika slowly leaned forward, face in his hands while Kurda's fingertips ran soothingly through his hair. Kurda sighed in dismay as he detected the drying blood caked into it - the dark red invisible against its obsidian backdrop.
"What are you going to do?" Mika asked bleakly as he sat upright after taking a few minutes to compose himself.
"Whatever it takes." Kurda told him firmly as he lightly ran his thumb across Mika's cheekbone. Mika was nodding back at him slowly, almost imperceptibly.
Then something shifted in Mika's face. Kurda knew exactly what he was about to say.
"Kurda, I still -"
"Shhhh... I know." Kurda whispered. "Me too."
I love you too, Mika.
And Kurda knew Mika knew. Some truths speak louder than words.
Mika left several minutes later to begin what would undoubtedly be a long and gruelling trip back to the mountain. Kurda figured Mika probably could've used more rest than he allowed himself, but Kurda knew it was pointless to bring it up. But he also knew as long as Gracie was in Vampire Mountain without him, there was nothing in the world that would stop Mika until he was back at her side.
Kurda knew the sun would start to rise within the hour, so he began to head back in the direction of the parking lot where the battle had taken place. Even if the human police had arrived, Kurda figured he could stay out of sight while putting his heightened vampiric senses to work. It was a long shot, but maybe he could track the scent of the slain vampaneze, retrace the steps they'd taken before arriving here. Maybe that would lead Kurda... somewhere. Anywhere.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.
He was over a kilometre away from the parking lot as he reached the edge of the park but he could already smell them. Funny, the scent was almost as strong as it had been at the scene of the fight itself.
He froze, his entire body on red alert. The source of the smell was coming closer. Unmistakably vampaneze. And it wasn't a new vampaneze. One was still alive.
A flicker of movement. The snap of a branch, the accompanying sound of rustling foliage. There he was - approaching Kurda. Slowly, but purposely. It was the final vampaneze to go down - and no wonder the job hadn't been finished. Mika was being beaten to a bloody pulp and Gracie had just ran her car into a wall. Renley plunged his blade into the vampaneze, then he'd sprinted to Mika's side with Kurda at his heels. They should have double checked, Kurda knew that. Both of them were highly trained Generals. Ex, in Kurda's case. But you don't forget the basics. Unless shit goes really, really wrong. Which was exactly what happened.
Kurda's heart pounded in his ears but he let his guard down. The vampaneze may have been up and about, but by the looks of him he wasn't long for this world. Being the honour-bound creature of the night he was, he'd clearly tracked Kurda down in hopes of a duel. He knew he was dying and he wanted to go out fighting.
Although Kurda resisted violence whenever he possibly could, that ship had sailed far, far away for tonight. And although he respected the vampaneze code with every fiber of his being, he wasn't sure if he could bend to the whims of a man who'd threatened his daughter. No matter who's orders he was acting under.
"I see you." Said Kurda loudly. He left his dagger in its sheath and held up his hands unthreateningly. "I'll admit, you've caught me by surprise."
"You vampires... aren't as polished... as I expected." Croaked the staggering vampaneze. "I gave you the fight of your life... you left me to bleed out and die on the ground... in this concrete jungle. You'd damn well... better be ready to finish the job."
"My apologies. We intended no disrespect." Said Kurda coolly. "I've always held the vanpaneze code in high regard. It seems your legendary morals have shifted, though. Are you or are you not responsible for the slaughter of a young human man in his own home?"
"I didn't come here to be interrogated!" The vampaneze hissed.
"Tell me the truth." Kurda snapped back. "If you can do that, I'll give you an honourable end. If not, I flit out of here and leave you to bleed out next to that garbage can. We both know you're not coming back from those wounds."
"My duty is to serve the Lord of the Vampaneze, not bend to the whims of a vampire has-been."
"So you do know who I am." Kurda remarked, arching an eyebrow.
"Every vampaneze on this planet knows who Kurda Smahlt is."
"I suppose I made a bit of a reputation for myself." Said Kurda. "Will you share your name with me?"
"My name is Marcel Cage." Said the vampaneze, looking Kurda dead in the eye even as he swayed on the spot. Blood was trickling from his mouth and nose. Kurda knew he didn't have much time.
"Marcel..." said Kurda slowly. "If you know anything about me, you know unity between the clans has been the motivation behind my entire career. I believe the vampaneze are worthy of more respect than the vampire clan has given them over the centuries-"
"Lot of good your grand plan... did either side." Marcel interrupted, spitting blood. "Almost forty vampaneze slaughtered... in the tunnels of Vampire Mountain... seven years ago. More dying by the day. I've lost friends, men and women who I considered... family."
"We all have." Kurda countered. He kept his tone deliberately calm and even. "I may be estranged from both clans, but I know-"
"You know nothing!" Marcel growled, his breathing growing shallower. "You have no idea what this war... has cost us! Even if our Lord leads us... to the end of the war... a vampaneze victory... what will be left of us?"
"Tell me more about him." Kurda urged. "Tell me about your Lord. You owe him nothing now. You did your bidding - you lost the fight fairly."
"I don't owe you any help... you vampiric traitor! I do not have to agree with... the Lord. But he will have my loyalty... until my dying breath."
"You worry about your clan losing their ways in the new regime?" Kurda pressed determinedly. "It feels wrong to you, doesn't it? You were ordered to murder a human in his home, with the extent to trap and extort a Vampire Prince. Where's the honour in that?"
"I'm not labouring under the delusion... that there's any honour in it. But the prophecy is clear. But we must... obey our leader... as your clan has always obeyed yours."
"Fuck Desmond Tiny and his prophecies." Kurda snapped, and he could've sworn he heard a bit of Mika in his own voice as he said those words. "No Vampire Prince would approve of something this low. Nor would the noble vampaneze I used to know."
"We didn't have a choice." Said Marcel, his voice growing quieter by the minute even as his face maintained a stony glare.
"Have you ever seen him? The Lord of the Vampaneze?"
"I've stood in his presence... But I've not seen... his face."
"Where is he, Marcel? Where is the Vampaneze Lord?"
"I'd rather die... than betray my Lord." Marcel hissed, spitting blood to make his point.
"You're already dying." Kurda groaned. "Marcel, I've spoken with Desmond Tiny. He sought me out. The prophecy is off the rails. I don't understand all of it - all I know is that I was supposed to die in Vampire Mountain, but I didn't. And it changed something."
"It changed nothing!" Marcel wheezed, face twisted in pain and fury. "The clans could've... been stronger together. But instead... we'll all die apart. And there's nothing... you can do about it."
"No! It's not too late." Kurda fired back. "I won't accept that. Not for either clan. Destiny spared me, and I have to make that mean something! Give me something, Marcel. Anything. Please!"
"I'll give you my nails... in your throat!" Marcel panted. And finally, he sprung at Kurda with his nails outstretched. But he was moving slowly, encumbered by injuries, and Kurda withdrew his blade and buried it in the vampaneze's chest in one swift motion, keeping his blue eyes locked on Marcel's crimson the vampaneze crumbled to his knees. As clean and honourable a death as a creature of the night could ask for.
Marcel didn't take his eyes off Kurda's til he finally slumped sideways and collapsed into the grass. He was smiling eerily as the last of the life faded from his eyes.
"I am sorry the noble vampaneze clan is being eroded by the whims of a tyrant." Kurda whispered. "Know this: if there's a way to save your brothers, I'll find it. Even in death may you be triumphant, Marcel."
Marcel nodded almost imperceptibly and closed his eyes. Kurda was about to get up and walk away when he saw Marcel's lips open one last time:
"The Lord... go east."
Then he shuddered once more, and died.
East.
He's in the east.
With great difficulty, Kurda picked up Marcel's body and only just managed to flit outside the city limits before he collapsed in exhaustion. He found a forest and laid Marcel to rest there on the floor before carefully building a tomb of rocks around him, lest wild animals feed on his corpse and go mad.
Kurda had more than mixed feelings about taking such care for a man who had a hand in putting Gracie in harm's way. He knew Mika wouldn't have done for this vampaneze what Kurda was doing right now. Mika had always been better at seeing the gray area than many of his vampiric peers, but not where his daughter was concerned. And for that, Kurda didn't blame him in the slightest.
As Kurda stacked the rocks, he reviewed his conversation with Marcel on an endless loop. Something felt wrong but he couldn't quite place it.
Everything Marcel said confirmed what Kurda had been suspicious of - the Lord of the Vampaneze wasn't above cheating to win. And the vampaneze, a clan of fiercely honourable sons and daughters of the night, had lost the individual autonomy their forebears had fought for when the two clans divided. And Kurda was livid. But that part made sense. So what else was there? What part of that conversation was setting off some red alert in the back of his mind?
Those were the questions he asked to the stars above again and again as he laboured. And as always, they didn't give a fuck.
Will you think that you're all alone
When no one's there to hold your hand?
When all you know seems so far away
And everything is temporary, rest your head
I'm permanent
MEANWHILE IN VAMPIRE MOUNTAIN:
Seba's heart ached as he stood vigil by the sealed door to the Hall of Princes. Ached for Mika and for Gracie. As if they hadn't already been through enough with Kurda's betrayal. It sounded like Gracie was out there thriving and making a hell of a great life for herself despite the odds, and he'd been so happy for her. Seba had loved the girl like a granddaughter for almost her entire life. Hell, she'd called him Grampa for as long as she could talk. No doubt about it, both Grampa Seba and Papa Paris had adored their unlikely little addition to the clan since day one. (Okay, maybe like day four or five for Paris. Seba never would forget the nuclear scolding Paris had given Mika for bringing a human back to the mountain).
Gods, how he wished Paris was here. And not only because Hall of Princes was currently devoid of Princes - a fact that was stressing Seba the fuck out. He understood Mika's decisive shift in priorities. And he couldn't blame him. As fiercely as Mika loved the clan, it was still Gracie over everything. He couldn't help it.
The hours ticked by. Seba found himself pondering why it was necessary for one Prince to always remain in the Hall of Princes, if the hall could only be opened or closed by a Prince? What was the worst possible thing that could happen in that empty room? All the armies in the world could roll up to their doorstep with tanks and guns, and they still wouldn't be able to put a dent in that material, whether any Princes were there or not. The only force in the world who could crack that dome was Desmond Tiny himself. A lesson Mika had learned the hard way not so long ago.
Then he heard footsteps and a young guard came flying down the hall.
"General Azerion has returned with Sire Ver Leth's daughter. He is taking her to the infirmary." The guard panted.
Seba's back stiffened.
"And dare I ask where Sire Ver Leth is?" The Quartermaster inquired drily.
"I was told he is injured, but still capable of flitting short distances at a time." Said the guard. "He shouldn't be long."
"Gods..." Seba muttered, shaking his head. "Wake up every other guard and medic who is not already on duty. Mika will be approaching from the west. Wait for him - make sure he gets back to the mountain safely."
"Yes, Quartermaster Nile."
The flit back to Vampire Mountain was a blur. Mika didn't remember how many hours he spent, what route he took, or how many times he had to stop and take a break to keep himself from passing out. All he remembered was cold, exhaustion, and pain. But he tolerated it gladly - because Gracie was safe. Renley had confirmed it as soon as he'd arrived back at the mountain.
By the time Mika arrived at the entry cavern, it was a struggle to simply remain upright. A swarm of staff immediately descended upon him, offering blankets and vials of blood - all of which he waved away as he shoved through the crowd impatiently. They'd brought a stretcher for him, which he could only assume had been under Seba's orders. As if Mika had time lie down and enjoy a leisurely ride up through the mountain right now, when Gracie was up there waiting for him after the worst night of her life. Incomprehensible. He'd already lost too much time resting before and during the flit. So he dodged the small army of well-intentioned staff and charged recklessly onward.
There was still a grounded, logical part of his brain that was chiding the rest of him for breaking the rules so drastically where leaving the Hall of Princes was concerned. He knew he'd hear about it later from Vancha and Arrow - and they'd be well within their rights to give him proper hell about it. He made a lightning-fast detour up to the Hall of Princes for an obligatory check, then carried on to the infirmary once he'd ensured everything was as it should be.
It was quiet in the infirmary when Mika finally came crashing around the corner - stumbling, dizzy, frozen, but determined as ever. Gracie was laying on a cot on the far end, clearly asleep. And Renley was sitting in a chair next to her - loyal, sweet, fearless Renley who'd dropped everything to run headlong into catastrophe at Mika's side. Of course, Mika could've asked any vampire in the clan and they would've been legally bound to do exactly what Renley had done. But not every vampire would have done it with the same fierce devotion. You can force someone to fight for you, if you have that privilege. But you can't force them to WANT to fight for you. Mika wanted to fall head over heels with Renley like never before. And at the same time, he'd never been more certain he couldn't.
Renley looked on the verge of drifting off, but his eyes darted up sharply as he heard Mika approach. He didn't say anything. He just got to his feet and pulled Mika against his chest the second he was within arm's reach and held on silently for a good minute.
"Fuck, you're freezing." Renley noted in dismay at last. "Thank the gods you made it back-"
"How is she?" Mika cut him off immediately, observing Gracie from over Renley's shoulder. She was slumbering peacefully, and Mika was grateful for that small mercy. There were multiple cuts on her face from the car wreck, but they appeared to have been thoroughly cleaned and well on their way to healing.
"She's fine. We did it... she's safe. You can relax." Said Renley, employing a deliberately soothing tone as Mika withdrew from the embrace to focus his full attention on Gracie. Renley's hand found its way into Mika's though, fingers interlocking as though expecting him to disappear. "She's tough, like you. Jai gave her something to keep her asleep longer. Said she'll have a concussion from the impact, so that's the best thing for her right now. Other than that, just cuts and bruises." He paused, and squeezed Mika's shoulder. "She's lucky to have you."
It was a kind-hearted, well-intentioned comment. Renley was just trying to make Mika feel better in an awful situation. He didn't mean for it to have the exact opposite effect he intended.
She's lucky to have you.
No. It was all wrong. Gracie wasn't lucky. There's nothing lucky about being used as a pawn by an opportunistic enemy. Mika knew what he signed up for. He knew it before that first drop of vampiric blood hit his human veins. He knew it before he completed his Generalship trials. And he damn well knew it before he was invested as Prince. He'd consented to every battle he'd ever fought. To the countless times his life had been in danger. To his role in this war. To the crushing weight of responsibility he carried. For better or worse, he chose this life. Every single second of it.
She's lucky to have you.
Gracie didn't choose any of it. But she got dragged into it anyway. It wasn't luck. It was a nightmare come true. Of course Mika put everything on the line to save her - she was only in danger because of him! He would've done anything to protect her, including die. He'd almost done that, and it almost wasn't enough.
She wasn't lucky.
Mika didn't realize his ears were ringing until he heard Renley's voice, nearby but distant, cutting through the noise in his brain.
"Mika? Hello? You okay?" The General was saying, looking at Mika's face with concern.
"Yeah... I just... need to sit down..." Mika heard himself say, before his legs gave out and he crumbled in slow motion. But Renley moved quickly and grabbed him before he hit the floor, and half-lifted him onto the next cot over from Gracie's. Sitting half-upright but leaning heavily into Renley as his vision flicked in and out of focus. It belatedly occurred to him that he couldn't remember when he last ate or drank. It had been stupid to flit at all, he should've rested longer. Should've done a lot of things differently.
"There..." Renley murmured, running his hand up and down Mika's back in the way he knew he liked. Mika may be an enigma in many ways, but he's a simple creature in that he's a sucker for a nice back rub - most times. "You can rest now. You two can hang our together with your matching concussions. I'll go find Jai - he can give you something to sleep, it'll help with the pain."
Mika shook his head firmly; and the sudden motion made him dizzy.
"No sleep... need to be ready when she wakes up."
Renley sighed empathetically.
"Okay, baby." He said softly. He ran his fingers through Mika's hair and placed a soft kiss in his temple. "Whatever you need, I got you."
It could've been any number of things. The adrenaline crash, the concussion, the pain, the exhaustion, the fresh psychological trauma, the abrupt encounter with Kurda. (Who are we kidding? You know it's Kurda. I know it's Kurda. And Mika sure as shit knows it's Kurda). But the word 'baby' was where Mika's brain drew the line today.
Backstory: Mika had spent most of his life holding the opinion that pet names were stupid. Particularly 'babe', or 'baby'. Because come on, we're grown-ass centuries-old adults here. Then one night, early in their relationship, Kurda called him 'babe' on a whim without thinking about it. Just slipped out. And coming from Kurda's lips, that infantile, loathsome word was suddenly the most beautiful sound Mika had ever heard in his entire life. Years passed, shit happened, Mika kind-of-sort-of got over it. Then mere hours ago, Kurda sent him reeling right back to square one. And he wasn't even trying. That was the worst part. But even so, Kurda was not on the forefront of Mika's mind that night. He was fully consumed with much higher priorities than the godsforsaken soap opera that was his personal life.
Mika didn't pull away from Renley, but he didn't lean into him like he usually did. For the longest time neither said anything, just sat there with his eyes on Gracie's unconscious face. Renley broke the silence eventually.
"I thought I was going to lose you today." The General whispered. His hand was no longer running circles around Mika's back. It had gone still, palm resting between Mika's shoulder blades. As those words passed through his lips, he slowly leaned in and nestled his forehead into Mika's shoulder. A misguided attempt to hide the tears that were pooling in his mahogany eyes.
"Thanks for everything, Ren. You did great." Said Mika hollowly. It was a canned, generic response that he could've given any vampire after a decent performance - if he happened to be in a good mood. "Go get some rest. That's an order." Paused once more, and added: "I owe you everything."
To Mika's immense relief and admitted surprise, Renley didn't protest, and Mika was finally alone with Gracie. But she didn't look to be in a hurry to wake up, and that was perfectly fine. Because once she woke up, it would all become real. She'd have to start processing, start trying to understand this cruel prank of the gods that had suddenly became her life.
She's safe. She's safe. Nothing can hurt her here. It's over. She's safe, Mika told himself over and over again. A mantra to keep himself from spiralling into the dark place. He couldn't afford to let that happen. This wasn't his trauma, it was hers. He had no right to break down. Keeping a semi-clear head was literally the least he could do for her at this point.
He was determined not to fall asleep until he had a chance to talk to Gracie, so he waited patiently for her to wake up. He remained in the next cot over from hers. He still felt half-frozen from his trip through the icy wasteland, but he lay on top of the blankets rather than beneath them. If he got too comfortable, he'd be out like a light and liable to sleep through the next twelve hours at least.
Jai Yang, Vampire Mountain's chief medic, caught up with Mika not long after Renley left. Jai re-affirmed that Gracie would be perfectly fine and just needed some TLC and a good, long sleep. Mika then allowed Jai to treat a few of his external injuries as he continued waiting for Gracie to wake up. Jai mentioned (apprehensively) that Seba wanted Mika to report back to the Hall of Princes as soon as he could.
"Did Seba go and invest himself while I was out?" Mika asked seriously, arching one eyebrow impatiently.
"I don't believe he did, Sire." Jai responded with a wry grimace.
"Then I don't have to report to anybody. I'll get back to work as soon as I can. This is an extenuating circumstance and Seba damn well knows it."
Jai nodded in polite agreement, gave Mika a cold compress to hold against his throbbing head, and left him alone once more.
KS: You get back safe?
MVL: Yeah. Sorry. Should've said something. Lot on my mind.
KS: I get it. How is she?
MVL: Asleep.
KS: Good. Let her stay that way as long as you can.
MVL: I intend to.
KS: How you doing?
MVL: Exactly as you'd expect.
KS: Fair.
MVL: And you?
KS: Broken wrist. I'd say I got off easy.
MVL: No shit. Kurda, that could've been so much worse...
KS: You don't have to tell me. But I have to tell you something. That last vampaneze wasn't dead. I ran into him not five minutes after you left.
MVL: Fuck.
KS: No. It's a good thing. He was as good as dead, and seeking an honourable finish. But before I gave him one we had a conversation-
MVL: What did he tell you?!
KS: Easy. He didn't exactly draw me a map to the Lord. He was solid as a rock. I had to read between the lines. I gather the vanpaneze aren't exactly enthusiastic about their new management.
MVL: Old news. They've started using humans, they call them vampets and -
KS: I know about the vampets. Vancha told me when I saw him. He suspected the vampaneze are skeptical about the changes, but I think it's worse than any of you realized.
MVL: You know their clan better than I do. What do you think it means?
KS: They're just as scared as we are.
MVL: Wow. I'd love to give them my sympathy, but seeing as they threatened our daughter -
KS: I know. I'm not telling you to pity them. But this is bigger than us. Please tell me you understand that.
MVL: I understand. So what now?
KS: We both get some sleep.
MVL: Bold of you to think I'm ever going to sleep again.
KS: Try anyway.
MVL: You too.
Mika wasn't tracking the hours, so he really had no idea how much time had passed when he eventually heard a soft groan from Gracie's direction. He'd been fighting to keep his eyes open, but suddenly he was wide awake. He relocated to sit beside her, just in time to see her Smahlt-blue eyes flutter open.
"Ugh... Dad?"
"Right here, Princess. I'm right here."
He clutched her hand gently but firmly. It was impossibly warm - or maybe he was just too cold.
"Are we in the mountain?"
"Yeah. Infirmary."
"How long was I out?"
"Few hours. The medics gave you something to help you sleep. You have a bit of a concussion. How do you feel?"
"Sore."
"I bet." Said Mika quietly. He gently stroked her forehead as she stared back at him with glazed eyes. "Do you remember everything?" He added. A tiny part of him hoped she didn't.
"Everything." She replied in a hoarse whisper. Mika winced internally.
"You're safe now." Said Mika. "Nothing can hurt you here."
She slowly shifted to sit half-upright in the cot so she could lean into Mika's shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her carefully.
"I killed him, didn't I? That vampaneze?"
Mika exhaled slowly. For the first time in his entire life, he almost outright lied to her. Almost said, "No, he got out of the way and disappeared." After all, he was fairly certain the airbag had blocked her view of the impact.
But something told him she already knew the answer. And she'd know if he lied - so he didn't.
"You saved my life. You didn't have to do that, but you did. And I love you so much. Don't think about the vampaneze right now. All that matters is that you're safe."
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Why Dale?" She croaked at last. "He never did anything to anyone. He didn't know about the clans... I never told him anything. It doesn't make sense."
Mika closed his eyes for several moments, then took a deep breath. There was no sugar-coating this. She'd heard everything the vampaneze said anyway.
"They needed to threaten you without actually hurting you. So they hurt Dale instead. I know, it's not fair. They knew you'd get in touch with me, and they knew I'd leave the mountain to keep you safe."
"I thought they didn't kill people in their homes."
"They're not supposed to. It goes against their moral code. The Vampaneze Lord seems to be making up the rules as he goes. They needed Dale to be discovered quickly, so the news would get back to you... and in turn, me."
"I hate them." She croaked.
Mika winced at how abruptly her tone took on the same harsh desolation that had always been evident in Arrow's voice whenever he spoke of the loss of his wife or the vampanze clan in general during the earlier stages of his grief.
"I could spend the rest of my life telling you how sorry I am that you got caught up in this. I know there's nothing I can do to make this up to you." Mika told her. He spoke slowly, the words burning the back of his throat like acid. "But I'm going to try. I'll do anything."
"I won't even be able to go to his funeral... he died. I disappeared. They're going to think I was involved." She exhaled shakily and pressed her palms against her face before breaking down in Mika's arms again.
Mika thought that surely after everything that happened to him in the aftershock of Kurda's treachery, surely his heart couldn't possibly break any more than it already had. Surely it had reached that threshold years ago. But all Mika knew now was that if he had to choose between living through the night of Kurda's exile on repeat for eternity, or sitting here powerless as she endured this vicious twist of destiny... he would've gladly taken all that pain himself. He wouldn't have hesitated.
I know he's living in hell every single day
And so I ask, oh God is there some way for me to take his place?
And when they say it's all touch and go
I wish I could make it go away but still you say
Gracie eventually fell asleep again, but Mika didn't. He wandered over to the supply cupboard to see if he could find himself any of the sleep aid Jai had given her earlier, but he had no idea what was what, and was in no mood to go track Jai down. So he wandered defeatedly back to his deserted cot and lay in it. He knew the right thing to do would be report back to the Hall of Princes but he couldn't stomach the thought of leaving Gracie alone just yet. Every time he closed his eyes he lived the nightmare all over again. They may have been safe, but it was a near enough miss to shake him to the core. So all he could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling for hours upon hours while she dozed a few feet away.
A distraction eventually arrived in the form of Seba. Mika was surprised it took him this long. He thought the Quartermaster would have arrived ages ago, to drag him kicking and screaming back to the Hall of Princes to resume his obligatory duty. And honestly, Mika felt Seba would've been within his rights on that one.
Seba approached slowly, looking exhausted and strained. Mika felt a pang of guilt. Not for leaving; he'd make no apologies for the rules he broke to save his daughter's life. The guilt was for Seba. All the poor man had ever done was pour his entire heart and all his energy into his role of Quartermaster. That official job description definitely didn't include "babysit the fucking Princes when they're being reckless morons".
Yet there was Seba, once again determinedly filling Paris's shoes as the glue holding this damn place together.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you. But I'm not sorry for leaving. I know it was wrong. I didn't have a choice, Seba." Said Mika automatically as the red-cloaked man sat down beside him. He couldn't bring himself to look at Seba, though. He kept his eyes fixed on a blank point on the wall across from him.
"That is not why I came. It is over now. Are you alright?" Seba asked, very gently. Mika lowered his guard and slowly shifted his gaze to look Seba in the eye.
"All things considered, I guess." Said Mika.
"Good. How is she?"
"She'll be okay. Just scraped up and a concussed. And scared."
"What happened?"
"The vampaneze were waiting for us. Six of them."
"Thank the gods you made it back. Both of you." He croaked. "What was their intent? To kill you?"
Mika laughed hollowly.
"You don't want to know, Seba."
"Try me."
Mika exhaled slowly. Then he told Seba everything.
"By the black blood of Harnon Oan... this is a grim night. I do not have a tremendous opinion of the vampaneze clan, but this plot flies in the face of the honour they pride themselves in." Seba commented, shaking his head gravely. "Draining their human victims to death is one thing. I do not agree with the practice, but there is method and ritual to it. But using a human as a war pawn... to manipulate a Prince, no less. It is horrific, yes. But also very strange. I do not understand."
"I had the same thought. It's not exactly on-brand for them." Mika grunted. "They confirmed they were acting under their Lord's orders. If he keeps changing the rules, they won't even be the vampaneze clan anymore. Gods, what a fucking mess."
"How did you get out alive?"
Mika smiled grimly.
"I thought ahead. I knew I couldn't bring a whole army for backup. They already had the upper hand, a big crowd would only put Gracie's life at higher risk. I brought Ren, and then I reached out to Kurda. He met us there."
Seba's eyes widened for a moment, but then his face slackened and honestly, he didn't look all that surprised.
"He was the last thing they expected. I didn't even have time to tell him exactly what was going on. I just told him I needed help, and left it in his hands. And he saved us." Mika added with a tinge of defensiveness.
"Bold move, Sire." Said Seba at last. His face was unreadable. Mika vividly recalled the shock and loathing on Seba's face during Kurda's trial.
"Not really." Said Mika steadily. "She's his daughter too."
Seba nodded silently and glanced over at Gracie. He hadn't seen her in over six years now; she no longer spent her summers in the mountain after Mika left to spend time in the field. Last time Seba saw her, she'd been sixteen going on seventeen and despite the devastation of Kurda's betrayal, she'd still radiated the same pure, golden energy she had as a child. As though the sun itself had taken a human form in her.
Seba prayed someday that sparkle would return, because right now she looked like a shadow of the girl he once knew. Seba stayed with Mika for another hour or so, and they traded musings about the vampaneze and their disturbing plot until Seba eventually retired to bed. To Mika's astonishment, he didn't mention the Hall of Princes once.
Gracie slept for another eight hours, while Mika tried (and mostly failed) to get some sleep as well. He managed about two hours total. It'd have to be enough to get him through the day - he wasn't good at napping at the best of times. And this was the worst of times.
Watching Gracie wake up in confusion and slowly remember the events of the previous night was excruciating. Mika had never felt so helpless in all his life. All he could do was sit with her and provide a literal shoulder to cry on - while knowing it wasn't nearly enough. The entire first day was painful. Mika eventually felt like the walls were closing in on him, and when asked Gracie if she wanted to get out of the infirmary she agreed emphatically. With Dr. Yang's blessing, Mika and Gracie made their way to the upper level of the mountain in the direction of what had been her long-vacated childhood room.
Mika spent an hour in the room with her, helping to clear out seven years worth of dust bunnies and unpack some crates of belongings that had been stored in the mountain. But Mika knew he couldn't stay away from the Hall of Princes much longer. Gracie promised him she'd be fine on her own for a bit, and that she'd come visit him later. Mika gave her one last hug and reluctantly carried on his way.
As he walked down the long corridor up to the top of the mountain, Mika supposed his current frame of mind was as good as it was going to get for a while. Gracie was safe - he just kept repeating it in his head, over and over like a calming mantra. And it worked. With that said, Mika wasn't ready to pick up where he left off. But was acutely aware that he had no choice - he'd broken the oldest law in the book when he left the Hall of Princes empty. And he hadn't just left the Hall itself - that would be one thing. Not great, but permissible in an emergency. But he'd left the whole damn mountain. Yikes.
But as not-ready as he was to walk back into that room, he was even less ready to see that one of the thrones was already occupied.
Almost four months has passed since the week of Paris's death, in which Mika, Arrow, and Vancha had partaken in a historic knock-down-drag-out brawl in the Hall of Princes after a very heated argument fraught with personal jabs. Both Mika and Arrow had made peace with Vancha and vice versa - but Mika and Arrow hadn't spoken since the coolly civil words they'd exchanged out of obligation at Paris's funeral proceedings. And they hadn't conversed one-on-one since before the ceremony, when Arrow had clumsily tried to apologize - but it was a shitty apology and Mika had all but told him to go stick a boomerang up his ass. And the only reason he didn't say that was because he didn't think of it at the time.
And now, there he was in the Hall of Princes, larger than life, sitting there in his throne as though he'd never missed a day. He was having a conversation with a group of vampires at the front of the Hall, but his eyes darted upwards as soon as he heard the doors slide open. Arrow's face lit up with a mixture of relief and apprehension as he saw Mika standing there. Mika didn't exactly match Arrow's energy, he kept his face cold and impassive. And he didn't have to force it in the slightest.
Arrow quickly dismissed his meeting upon realizing Mika had arrived, and the group of vampires walked back down the aisle as Mika walked up it. Mika walked in the dead centre of the aisle, eyes fixed coldly on Arrow, letting the departing group go around him, like they were a stream and he was an immovable rock in the middle of it.
Mika stopped in front of the throne platform, staring expressionlessly up at his colleague and newly estranged friend. Neither of them spoke until the last vampire had left the hall, and Arrow touched his arm rest panel to seal the doors. Now it was just the two of them.
Arrow got up from his throne and walked almost gingerly towards Mika with his arms half-up, clearly with the intent of offering a hug. He looked weary and anxious, but there was a hopeful sort of glimmer about him. Mika wasted no time extinguishing it.
"Touch me and I'll break your arms." Said Mika flatly, piercing the silence. The light in Arrow's eyes died at those words. He stopped dead in his tracks and his arms hung defeatedly by his sides. Mika knew his comment was excessively cruel, but he was also running on two hours of sleep and very much feeling the physical effects of the previous day's battle. And we won't even get started on the PTSD. So no, Arrow's feelings didn't even make his list of priorities today.
"Seba told me what happened... that you could use some help." Said Arrow quietly, looking down at his feet. "Now you can take some time away from the Hall. I got here last night, a few hours after you from what I heard."
"Thank you for coming in on short notice." Mika replied, his words stiff and monotone. Robotic, almost. He had no choice but express some degree of appreciation here. As far as the heavy responsibilities of his job went, Mika knew he very much fumbled the ball. But Vampire Prince wasn't his only job. He'd made peace with that two decades ago. The clan had four Princes. And ever since the exile, Gracie only had one dad who was an active participant in her life.
"Why didn't you call me as soon as you knew she was in danger? I would've dropped everything and flitted to you. No matter what happens between us, Gracie's family to me too." Arrow murmured. Mika knew he meant it, but he didn't care.
"I handled it. I took Azerion. He was nearby, and he fights smarter than you anyway. Needed a cool head. And Kurda met up with us there." Mika explained bluntly, then added, "And you can keep your mouth shut about it. We made it out because of Kurda."
To Mika's surprise, Arrow barely blinked at the mention of Kurda. His face darkened for a moment, but that was it.
"I'm just glad you're safe. I know it doesn't mean anything to you, and I know it doesn't help..." Arrow's voice barely more than a whimper. A far cry from his usual booming tone. "...but I'm so sorry you went through that."
"Don't feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for Gracie."
"I'm sorry for both of you." Said Arrow. "So... what happened?" '
"You just said Seba told you what happened." Mika replied, devoid of all patience. Although he kept his tone cool and even.
"I know... I just thought you might want to talk about it." Arrow mumbled, eyes still on the floor.
"Sure don't."
A heavy silence hung between them for a moment.
"How's she doing?" Arrow ventured. He was looking at Mika, but didn't seem able to make eye contact yet.
"How the fuck do you think she is?" Mika snarled back. The logical, rational part of Mika knew Arrow was just doing his best. But that part wasn't steering right now. Mika's splintered heart and frayed nerves were in the driver's seat, and they were swerving all over the damn road.
"Fair enough." Said Arrow. "And how are you?"
Damn. Arrow was really pressing his luck now.
"Refer to previous answer."
"Mika... talk to me. I hate this." Arrow pleaded in an undertone. His eyes met Mika's at last, and the expression in them would've broken Mika's heart if there'd been anything left of it. Instead, he let out a harsh, cold laugh that made his throat hurt.
"You hate this? YOU hate this? Grudges like yours are the reason both clans have fallen this far! You have a lot of fucking nerve to even have an opinion! Much less voice it out loud!"
"Yes, I hate it!" Arrow bellowed, abruptly losing his cool. His face was red with frustration more than anger; Mika knew him well enough to recognize the grief under the surface, half-assed masquerading as rage. "I hate the war! I hate that we're all pawns in Desmond Tiny's sick game! I hate that Paris left us to deal with all of it! I hate that good vampires are dying because of it! I hate that I'm scared to death every second of every day! And I hate that I made you hate me!"
By the time Arrow was finished, his voice had reached such a volume Mika was surprised the walls hadn't started cracking.
On average, Mika was less apt to be enticed into a screaming match than Arrow - he'd always had more success keeping his temper in check than his tattooed colleague. But with that said, right now there was nothing he wanted more than to roar right back at him. To take all his pent-up rage, fear, hatred, and let loose on Arrow without mercy. To make Arrow feel some tiny part of the hurt inside.
He inhaled, preparing to do just that. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he never had much trouble finding words on short notice. Whatever was about to come out of his mouth would slice Arrow to the bone, that was certain.
But then Mika paused. Against his will, his brain took him back to the previous day, the gut-wrenching panic of watching vampaneze surround his daughter, the agony as he was slammed into pavement again and again, outnumbered and paralyzed, certain that he was about to be slaughtered, or worse - captured, tortured, used - and that the only three people he still cared about would bear witness to it. And then who would protect them?
But it didn't happen. His ultimate worst nightmare hadn't come true in its entirety. A near miss, but a miss just the same. He was alive. Gracie was safe. And she was in this mountain somewhere, trying to piece together what remained of the life that had just been ripped from her hands and turned upside down.
And where was Mika? Wasting his fucking time on this dead-end conversation when he could be helping her pick up the pieces. He exhaled slowly. Undoubtedly he'd have it out with Arrow again, but not today.
"There's no reason for both of us to be in here." Said Mika coldly. And he turned and walked away.
"Mika, this is bigger than anything you've dealt with. I want to be in it with you." Arrow called after him. He was no longer screaming, his voice was weak and ragged. Defeated. "You can hate me all you want, but you're still my best friend. And I'm not going to let you shut me out, or hurt yourself, or-"
Mika sighed irritably, and whipped back around to glare Arrow up and down, eyes cold and calculating.
"You really want to hold my hand and tell me everything will be okay? Why, so in seven years you can flip the script and tell me this was actually my fault all along? Just like how the war was my fault too? Only difference is, this time I KNOW it's my fault. So save your breath."
Mika didn't look back. He just walked. And he didn't have a problem with leaving Arrow confined to the Hall of Princes indefinitely, seeing as that had been Mika's life for the past four months now. It was well overdue for someone else to take a turn.
He immediately went to check on Gracie. Her room was around the corner from the long corridor where the Princes' suites were. It had sat empty since she grew up and stopped spending her summers in the mountain. But Mika had never let Seba re-convert it back to a storage room - just in case - and now he was glad of that.
"Hey, Princess." He greeted her quietly as he walked in. She flinched at his unexpected arrival, but quickly smiled when she saw who it was.
"Hey." Said Gracie. She was in the process of sorting through boxes of old clothes from over the years, she was red-eyed but focused. "I thought you had to stay in the Hall. Did you get fired?" She added wryly, arching an eyebrow.
"I wish." Mika snorted, rolling his eyes. She knew he didn't mean it, but the dry joke brightened her face for the slightest moment. "Seba called Arrow home so I could take some time off. I should've thought to do that myself, but Seba's always been a few steps ahead of the rest of us."
Gracie nodded slowly.
"Do you need anything?" Mika added.
"I don't think so. I'm just trying to keep busy."
"Good... That'll help."
"Maybe."
"I can stay nearby if you want me to... or I can give you space. Just tell me what you need and I'll do it. Because I feel just as lost as you do." Mika added, knowing raw honesty was one small way he could help her right now. He heard his voice catch in his throat. He hoped she didn't notice, but figured she probably did.
She stared deadpan at the worn-out t-shirt she'd been holding as though the pilled grey fabric might hold some answers. But when she looked up at Mika, she looked just as lost as he felt.
"I want you to stay here for a while." She told him as last, with the tiniest nod. He exhaled in relief.
He then spent a few hours helping her rearrange everything. Neither of them were ready to relive the previous day's trauma, so they appreciated each other's company mostly silently, making deliberately light conversation here and there. Mostly Mika told her about the little things in the mountain that had changed since she was last here. Things like renovations, upgraded furniture, future construction plans. Things that were comforting in their mundanity.
"How long do I have to stay in the mountain?" Gracie asked out of nowhere as she rummaged through a box of old childhood knicknacks.
"Till the war is over." Said Mika reluctantly. It was one of the things he'd thought about while lying awake in the infirmary. He didn't like it, but it was the only option. "We can't risk that happening again. Is that... okay with you?"
"Sounds like I don't really have a choice."
"Not really. I'm sorry."
"I'm alive. I shouldn't complain."
"Gracie, if anyone has the right to complain, it's you. You didn't deserve to be dragged into this. I chose this life. You didn't."
"Kind of feels like this life chose me anyway, Dad. I know you wanted me to find my place in the human world, and I tried. But I don't think life cares anymore." She exhaled a bitter, humourless laugh that Mika recognized all too well. Because it was his own reflexive defence mechanism when the only other alternative resembled an absolute meltdown.
"Just take it one day at a time." Said Mika in an undertone. I'll be with you for all of it."
"Do you believe in... you know... Destiny, or gods, or whatever?" She asked.
"I don't know, Gracie. I'm starting to get the feeling that it's all just random chance." Said Mika truthfully. "But I'll find out when I'm dead, I guess. I hope the gods are real, because I have some feedback for them." He added, unintentionally laughing in the same quietly bitter way she just had.
"What was it like seeing Kurda again after all those years?" Gracie inquired after a pause, shooting Mika a sideways, curious look. He could tell she'd been sitting on this question for a few hours.
"Well, I saw him for the first time since the exile when I delivered your letter last year. And it was... intense." Mika recounted. That was an understatement, but it was the only statement she was getting. "But this time we were just focused on keeping you safe. Didn't have time to dwell on the past." He added.
"Ah."
"How did you feel seeing him for the first time?" Mika ventured with some caution.
"Like you said, there was a lot going on. Mostly I just thought I was going to see you both killed right in front of me."
Mika cringed.
"I told you to drive away if it started going south... I know it wasn't a perfect plan, but it was the best I could-"
"Would you have driven away?" She interrupted.
"I don't have a driver's license." Mika responded. He knew that answer was evasive as all fuck, and he knew she wouldn't buy it. But he could buy himself some time.
She rolled her eyes at that. Her face was still pale and solemn, but for a moment there was a glimmer of her old self somewhere beneath the surface.
"Pretend you did." She told him drily.
"I don't have a car."
"Stop dodging the question. You're not even funny."
"Sorry. You're right." Mika sighed and ran his hand wearily though his hair, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. "It's not a fair comparison. I was doing my job. And my job is to protect you, not the other way around. You're an innocent civilian."
"It's a yes or no question, Dad." She pressed. "Would you have left to save yourself?"
Mika groaned in defeat.
"No, but -"
"There it is."
"You and I aren't the same, Gracie. No matter what anyone says, you aren't me. And I don't ever want you to have the responsibilities that I do." Mika countered softly. He glanced at her sideways, trying to gauge what was going on behind her stormy eyes. She saw him looking, and arched an eyebrow at him.
"I know we're not the same, but I think we both know I'm no average civilian either. I never was." She replied. Her voice was steady, and she held Mika's gaze.
"Did you want to be?" Mika asked after a pause.
Gracie was silent for several moments, occupied with unfolding and inspecting an old sweater she'd found in a storage crate.
"Sometimes I thought I did." She answered after a moment. "Sometimes I wanted to blend in with the humans and have a completely normal life, you know... cut myself off from all the clan stuff - except you, obviously." She added quickly, face softening apologetically for a moment.
"It's okay. I know what you mean." Said Mika. "I wanted that for you too."
"Good." She smiled faintly for a second, then is disappeared again. "But other times I'd be like, in a meeting with a disrespectful client at work, or waiting in the Starbucks line, or stuck in traffic or whatever. And all I could think about would be how there has to be more than this."
Mika's face fell.
"I thought you were happy."
"I was happy." Said Gracie matter-of-factly. "I loved my job most days, I was really good at it. But I couldn't shake the feeling that surely you didn't save me as a baby just so I could work for a corporation, pay bills and die in less than a century... like a human."
That statement jarred Mika, and he couldn't keep it from showing on his face. That didn't sound like her.
"...You talk about humans as if you aren't one." Mika ventured cautiously. She sighed, and gave a disconsolate sort of shrug before returning her eyes to the box of clothes in front of her.
"Of course I'm human. A human raised by vampires -" She replied. Her tone was strange, almost moody. "- who felt like a vampire living among humans. Makes perfect sense, right?"
"All I ever wanted was for you to have the best of both worlds." Mika told her. "I thought I could give you that. That's on me. I failed you."
She looked up at him, sympathy glimmering in her desolate eyes.
"Don't say that. You saved me, Dad. You said it yourself, this attack was out of character for the vampaneze. You couldn't have seen it coming."
"I don't care." Said Mika. "It happened because of me."
"'Because of you' isn't the same as 'your fault'." She said.
She seemed to say it so effortlessly. Like she had no idea how those words would pierce Mika's soul. It was as if Kurda Smahlt himself had materialized in the room. Everything from the tone to the unassuming determination in her eyes.
Mika didn't utter a reply to that, because he knew for a fact if he opened his mouth he'd break the fuck down right then and there. So instead he pulled her into a long hug. When they parted, they silently went back to tidying up the room until it was as clean and organized as if she'd never left.
They made their way down to the Hall of Khledon Lurt to for a bite to eat eventually; Mika strategically timed it when he knew it would be mostly empty. Most of the mountain knew what had happened by that point. The small handful of vampires in the hall began to make their way over to hear a firsthand account of the showdown with the vampaneze - but a quick glare from Mika sent them on their way again. Once they were fed, Mika and Gracie toured back to the infirmary for Jai to check them over - matching concussions and all. Thankfully, the airbag in Gracie's car had kept her from sustaining any serious injuries aside from bruised ribs and sore head. Jai was more concerned about Mika. Which, of course, was a massive inconvenience.
"Have you been experiencing any light sensitivity, drowsiness, headaches, or nausea?" Jai asked as he peered critically into Mika's left eyeball, assessing his pupils.
"No." Said Mika flatly, eager to be done with this.
"You know, a doctor is only as good as his patient is honest." Said Jai, shooting Mika a rather pointed look.
"Why ask the question if already know the answer?" Mika growled. "Seems counter-intuitive."
He hadn't meant to be funny - but he heard Gracie let out a halfhearted snort of amusement and he felt a tiny piece of his soul start to heal.
Truthfully, all Mika wanted was to order Jai to drug him up with enough sedatives to kill a grizzly. And if Gracie wasn't here, that was exactly what he would've done. But she was here, so Mika needed to stay alert.
They left the infirmary and met up with Seba who dug out some fresh blankets and pillows for Gracie from one of the storage rooms.
"I am sorry I did not warn you about Arrow." Said Seba ruefully.
"You did the right thing. Thank you. And again, I'm sorry." Said Mika. He gave Seba a curt nod but kept his tone guarded.
Seba and Gracie were happy to see each other, so they spent close to an hour catching up. They sat side-by-side on a storage crate filling each other in on their lives while Mika listened contentedly.
By the time they got back up to Gracie's room, the day (or night, depending how you look at it) was over. They'd made it through day one. Gracie seemed more willing to talk about Dale now, as if the conversation with Seba had cleared those pathways in her heart.
Sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, she showed Mika every single photo of him from the camera roll on her iPhone. Their selfies; full of glowing smiles and kisses on cheeks. The unflattering ones of Dale zoned in on some sci-fi movie or playing a video game Gracie didn't care about. The one of him grinning in his brand new dream car she'd helped convinced him to get. The two of them dressed to the nines at a company Christmas party. Then, side by side in a speed boat on a lake - Dale looking petrified (water wings and all) and Gracie looking elated. Photo after photo, date nights, the lazy Sunday afternoons, the Taco Tuesdays, it was all there in vivid colour.
Then the phone battery went dead. The screen faded to black, and there was no bringing it back. Not here in Vampire Mountain.
She broke down in Mika's arms again, and the only reason he didn't do the same was sheer exhaustion. When she eventually cried herself to sleep, Mika slowly transferred her into her coffin, moving at a snail's pace so as not to wake her back up. Then he carefully placed a blanket over her, and then a second one just to be safe, and retreated.
He made his way down to the Hall of Perta Vin-Grahl to soak off all the blood from yesterday, both his own and the vampaneze. The frigid waters had never felt so luxurious; the cold had a soothing effect on his bruised body and sore joints. He sat in the crystal-clear pool for almost half an hour before heading back up to finally get some sleep.
It wasn't til he walked through the door of his room that he remembered he hadn't actually set foot in here since before Paris died. Four months ago. Tired as he was, he wasn't ready to get into his coffin. He changed out of his bloodstained clothes into clean ones, poured a strong drink, and sat at his desk. Trying to clear his head, trying to keep himself from spiralling off into the dark place.
He was on his second drink when Renley made his way in. He didn't say anything for the longest time, just stood over Mika's chair, leaned in and gently hugged him from behind.
"How was today?" Renley asked eventually, so quiet he was barely audible.
"Long." Said Mika just as softly.
"How's she doing?"
"Her best."
"How are you doing?"
"My worst."
"Tell me how I can help you."
"You can't."
"Mika..." There was a desperate, almost plaintive pitch to Renley's voice. Barely a day ago, the sound of his own name rolling off that skilled tongue was intoxicating to Mika. Now, the same name in the same voice just sounded like a mosquito in Mika's ear.
"What?" Mika groaned, drawing the syllable out. He hated how ungrateful, how petulant he sounded but he couldn't help it. He leaned forward, pulling free from Renley's embrace, and buried his face in his hands. Elbows propped on the desk, massaging his temples with his fingers as though he could break the memories apart if he pressed hard enough.
"Let me in. Please. I know you're not in a good place... I don't want you to be alone for this." Renley pressed.
Mika experienced a very unwelcome sense of déjà-vu. This was way too similar to their conversation the day Paris died. And the one with Arrow just mere hours ago. He knew they meant well, and he knew he was being difficult. No, scratch that. He was being fucking obnoxious. And too overwhelmed to get out of his own way.
"Can we not get through one week where you don't corner me somewhere and force me to talk about my feelings?" Mika groaned. He couldn't imagine anything less appealing than a therapy session right now.
"I wouldn't have to corner you if you didn't completely withdraw every time there's a crisis." Renley fired back instantly. His voice was quiet but brittle with concern and determination.
Mika's back stiffened at those words and he swivelled sharply in his chair to glare scathingly at Renley, who took a few steps backwards in alarm.
"Listen, Ren. This isn't like when Paris died." Mika snapped. "This isn't another personal crisis you can insert yourself into, and save the day or whatever. This is my daughter's life. You don't understand. I don't get to break down here. It's not about me."
"I know I don't understand." Renley croaked, his voice suddenly shaky. A strange contrast from his usual polished cadence. "I never claimed to. I just don't know how else to make you believe I care about you!"
Mika exhaled slowly. The room was spinning again and he knew he wasn't doing his sore head any favours by letting himself get agitated.
"I do believe you. You prove it every day. And I know you're trying, and I'm trying to appreciate that you're trying, but I literally can't handle you right now. So please, Ren... just leave me alone. Please."
Renley glared at Mika for a second or two, then he seemed to deflate from within.
"I'll leave you to it, then." He said, a slight crack to his voice. "If you need me, you know where to find me."
Mika didn't look up to watch him leave. He finished his drink and then relocated to his coffin. He lay there in limbo for an eternity. Everything hurt. He wanted to cry, scream, punch something, or any combination of those. But he couldn't do any of it. He was frozen. Trapped inside his own head with the memory playing on an endless loop for hours upon hours, until exhaustion finally won over, and the world went black.
Will you think that you're all alone
When no one's there to hold your hand?
When all you know seems so far away
And everything is temporary, rest your head
I'm permanent
Kurda flitted east until the sun rose too high to continue. Then he broke into an abandoned house to wait out the daylight.
He lay on the dusty couch and stared at the ceiling, knowing he needed to sleep and knowing it wasn't going to happen tonight.
The words ricocheted off the inner walls of his skull until it caused him physical pain, but he couldn't stop them. Nothing could stop them.
It's not too late. I won't accept that. Not for either clan. Destiny spared me, and I have to make that mean something! He screamed at himself.
Destiny spared me.
But did it? Even Desmond Tiny himself didn't see that coming.
Like clockwork, his memory jerked him back to the terrifying day Tiny himself appeared in Kurda's home, his words branded forever into Kurda's subconscious:
"Alright, let's dive in! Kurda Smalht, I really can't emphasize enough how much frustration you've caused me." Said Desmond nastily, licking his lips. "Of all the possible future outcomes I could have predicted, you betraying Vampire Mountain but walking away with your life was not on my list."
Not on my list... what list? Destiny can't truly be set in stone, can it? He makes it sound like a numbers game. It's as if he doesn't choose destiny - he picks his odds and placed his bets.
Destiny spared me.
"This is just a social visit, Mr. Smahlt! I had to congratulate you in person for throwing a wrench into my plans! You know it's rather difficult to surprise me. I really was sure I'd thought of everything. All my planning... down the drain! And it's all your fault!"
Destiny spared me.
What had Vancha told Kurda about Tiny's visit to the mountain?
"I've only had Larten describe it to me about a hundred times now, I feel like I was there... Tiny implied to the other Princes that they blew the clan's first opportunity for peace when they had you arrested and exiled. Darren asked him if it was too late for you to have a hand in the outcome of the war... Tiny laughed and said since you were legally considered dead to the clan, it was irrelevant."
Destiny spared me...
No.
It's all wrong. Destiny was never going to spare me. I was supposed to die, or Mika was supposed to die. Or both of us.
But Mika would have been spared if my plan succeeded - nobody knew that but me. And when I failed, I was the one who was spared.
I intended to spare Mika... Then the tables turned. My life was in his hands...
Kurda drew breath so sharply his lungs burned as he sat bolt upright.
Destiny didn't spare me.
His heart hammered so hard against his ribs he feared his chest might crack open.
Mika spared me.
And destiny didn't see it coming.
The prophecies are irrelevant because they didn't account for this.
"Well, my poor disgraced friend... it's time for me to get going. I've got a war to watch. All bets are off now! Could be anybody's race. And I'll have the best seats in the house. Lucky me!" The words spoken by Desmond Fucking Tiny himself.
All bets are off now. Because I'm still here.
And I'm not going anywhere.
I'm permanent
Is this the moment where I look you in the eye?
Forgive my promise that you'll never see me cry
This chapter was all kinds of chaotic but you should know by now... that's the deal, friends. We love angst. We love intense emotions. We love playing fast and loose with canon. We probably love that more than anything else, tbh.
Chapter 20 is like, half done? I'm sorry I didn't touch on Kurda's letter to Mika in this chapter. Suddenly I was at 12k words and THAT needs to be its own thing. So this is where we say goodnight.
Also, nobody asked, but the letter itself IS written. I ghostwrote it for Kurda about a week ago. A few people had pretty solid guesses as to what it might be about. You'll see soon enough.
As always, thank you from the bottom of my very SOUL.
- Roxy