Hi guys! Sorry for another hefty delay - at least it wasn't as long a wait as last time! I hope this chapter doesn't seem slow. There's a lot of talking, but these aren't conversations I could skip over. This is the type of chapter that I enjoy writing (dialogue-heavy) but then I worry other people won't find it as exciting as I do. But don't worry, the action will pick up again very soon.
Chapter 24: Where The Light Won't Find You
Song: Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde's cover. (Original song by Tears For Fears but the Lorde version specifically has the vibes we're going for here).
Welcome to your life
There's no turning back
Even while we sleep
We will find you
Darren eventually lost track of how many hours he spent praying to every deity he'd ever heard of that Mr. Crepsley would open his eyes again. Harkat was beside him for every excruciating second, muttering half-hearted reassurances that didn't convince either of them.
Darren felt numb. Surely the end of the war should have brought him an overwhelming rush of relief, gods only knew how many hours of sleep he'd lost over it. How he'd spent every waking moment living in fear since Desmond Tiny showed up in Vampire Mountain with his all-telling final prophecy. Which wasn't even fucking valid because Kurda hadn't actually died and Tiny went out of his way to be purposely misleading about that.
And then, seconds before he would've struck a fatal blow to the man he once called his brother, Steve played the final card he'd clearly been hiding up his sleeve as a last resort, a fresh angle of manipulation. The one where he knocked up Darren's beloved kid sister and got them involved with this fucking nightmare.
Darren only left Mr. Crepsley's side once that night, and it was when he went to go be violently sick in the nearest water closet. Because all of this was well beyond the threshold of too much. Mika was still up in the infirmary sitting by the cot where Kurda was sleeping, and he shot Darren a funny look that sort of looked sympathetic - as if he tried but didn't commit all the way. Coming from Mika, that was about as good as it ever got.
Gracie was there too; she slept for a few hours and then woke up shortly after Mika did. Darren felt a pang of sympathy for Gracie. Nobody's feelings towards Kurda were simple these days, least of all hers. Both Gracie and Mika looked dazed as hell, and deservedly so. But they didn't look upset or angry by Kurda's unexpected presence.
Mika and Gracie conversed quietly as Kurda slumbered on. Darren didn't try to eavesdrop. He kept his focus on Mr. Crepsley, waiting desperately for a telltale twitch of an eyelid, something, anything that might signal a return to consciousness. But Larten was motionless.
Eventually, Mika got up from Kurda's bedside. He paused at the foot of Larten's cot as he went by.
"No changes?" Mika asked in an undertone.
Darren shook his head, unable to look Mika in the eye.
"I stand by what I said yesterday." Mika added, with an air of very forced casualness. "He's always been indecisive - it's so typical of him to waste everybody's time because he can't decide if he's coming or going. But he always gets there eventually. Trust me, he'll come back to us."
"Thanks." Darren mumbled.
Mika took a step closer to Larten's cot, his shrewd face unreadable.
"You hear that, Quicksilver?" Said Mika sharply, but not coldly. "Enough fucking around. Either hurry up and die already, or wake up and be useful. Just pick one."
Darren managed a ghost of a smile.
"That's an offer he won't be able to refuse." He told Mika weakly.
"I'm heading back to the Hall of Princes to switch off with Arrow." Said Mika, with some reluctance. "I'm sure he won't actually go to bed... there's too much going on. And I've probably been sitting up here longer than I should have. Time to go do my job." He gave Darren a rather pointed look, like he was implying Darren should be doing the same.
"I know." Darren sighed. "It's just... hard. You know?"
"Oh, I know." Said Mika, with a hollow, bitter laugh. Then he sighed too, sounding just as weary and strung-out as Darren felt. Mika slowly reached out and put his hand on Darren's shoulder a little awkwardly, and added: "Sometimes you just have to suck it up and do it anyway. But you can take a little more time if you need it. You know where to find us."
Darren nodded mutely. Mika squeezed his shoulder firmly, then carried on his way.
Darren knew Mika was absolutely right; he couldn't sit here forever. He had to face the clan at some point, had to tell the story of the Cavern of Retribution. Had to try to make it make sense... somehow. How was he supposed to do that when it didn't even make sense to him?
And then he'd have to face Steve. Ask for answers. No, demand answers. There'd be no more asking Steve for anything. Darren wouldn't let up until his family was safe. And if not for Gannen's deal, Darren would've already given the order for Steve to undergo a violent interrogation. Because Darren didn't have a shred of sympathy left for him after everything else. And Gannen knew that when he made the deal. Clever bastard.
Darren didn't entirely realize how far he'd disassociated from reality until he felt the cot shift slightly. He snapped to attention, waiting to see Larten finally stirring. But Larten was as still as ever. Gracie had sat down beside him.
"How's things?" She inquired in a would-be-casual manner.
"Oh, you know." Darren replied, hearing a rasp in his voice that made him sound like an old man. "The usual... everything's a mess."
"You holding up alright?"
"I feel like I should be celebrating. The war is over... we're working towards peace." Darren croaked. "It's everything we've wanted for years. And we did it without losing anyone in the cavern… That is, if Mr. Crepsley wakes up."
"He will." Said Gracie firmly, and Darren nodded while blinking back a fresh onslaught of tears. Then again, he'd already cried in front of Mika. So crying in front of Gracie wouldn't be that bad by comparison. He'd still rather avoid it, though.
"And how are you doing?" Darren asked her seriously.
"You showed up yesterday with my estranged, war-criminal father and pretty much said, 'Surprise! Look who I brought!'" She laughed bitterly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful you saved his life. I can't imagine losing him on top of everything else. Just... having him here is a lot to process."
"I'm sorry." Darren offered, feeling a pang of sympathy. "I heard about the attack on your boyfriend. I can't even imagine what that must feel like."
"Really? I feel like you of all people would know exactly." Gracie replied wryly, arching an eyebrow. "I was there when you told us how they tried to use that girl against you. She's going to be okay, right?"
"I guess it's close enough. And she'll be okay. Eventually." Said Darren, sighing heavily. "For what it's worth, I'm still sorry that happened to you. No one deserves that."
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
They lapsed into silence for several minutes. Darren went back to intently watching Mr. Crepsley's face. Waiting.
"Do you want something to eat from the kitchen?" Gracie asked gently. It wasn't until that exact second Darren realized he had no idea when he'd eaten last.
"Yeah. I really do." He admitted, a weak smile breaking across his face. She smiled too, warmly and empathetically. And for a moment Darren was transported back in time to the first time he met Kurda - the warmest welcome he received on that first day in Vampire Mountain by a long shot. Somehow she resembled him more closely with every passing year.
"Okay. Pick me up a snack while you're down there. I'm starving." Gracie replied in that same innocent manner. But her eyes were sparkling wickedly. Just like that, the Ver Leth side jumped back out.
By that point, Darren had almost forgotten he was capable of laughter - so when he burst out laughing, that sweet rush of endorphins that followed made him feel momentarily weightless.
"Is that any way to talk to a Prince?" Darren snorted, only partially managing to feign sternness for a moment.
"I'm not a vampire." Gracie replied, grinning. "You're not my Prince. You're just the prepubescent dork that works with my dad."
"I am not prepubescent!" Darren protested. "I've grown almost half a foot since you last saw me!"
"Well, you're sure not postpubescent." Said Gracie.
"Excuse you! I'm literally growing a beard right now!"
"Two hairs isn't a beard, Darren."
"Harkat said it's coming in nicely!"
"That doesn't mean you're growing a beard. It means Harkat is a people-pleaser." Said Gracie, straight-faced.
Harkat let out a wheezy chuckle of affirmation. Darren hadn't even realized he was awake.
"Have you been listening this whole time?" Darren scolded him, trying not to laugh. "Glad you're so quick to jump to my defence!"
"It was... funny." Harkat chuckled, elbowing Darren. "I'm glad there's still... one person in this mountain... who doesn't take you seriously… no matter how important… you are."
"I liked you better when you didn't talk." Said Darren, swatting Harkat in the shoulder. But then he laughed again. And it felt so good, he let himself enjoy it.
Acting on your best behaviour
Turn your back on mother nature
Everybody wants to rule the world
When Kurda woke up in the infirmary, he thought he was dreaming. Then he assumed he was dead, and this was some peaceful afterlife because there was no part of him that could accept it to be true. This wasn't his life anymore. He didn't deserve this.
But he was here. It wasn't a hallucination.
His body still ached terribly when he came around, but it was a clean sort of pain. He could tell the worst of his wounds had been cleaned and treated. He was bundled up in a soft, thick blanket. And he was warm.
And Gracie was there. And she'd brought him tea.
"What did I do to deserve you?" Kurda croaked as he slowly eased his sore body upright and took the mug she held out to him.
She shrugged, a little stiffly. That shrug, the fleeting smile that followed, coupled with the plain black hooded sweater she was wearing, and the quiet tenacity in her eyes exuded so much of Mika that Kurda couldn't believe he'd once thought their paths crossed by coincidence.
"You were asleep for quite a while." Said Gracie. "Dad stayed as long as he could, but had to go meet with the other Princes and a bunch of Generals. Lot going on. But I told him I'd stick around... supervise you. And I remembered you always liked tea better than coffee."
"You don't have to sit here and look after me." Kurda murmured. "I'll be fine. I just needed a few stitches and a long sleep." Even as he said the words, he prayed she wouldn't leave.
"It's alright. My schedule was actually pretty open today - believe it or not." Gracie replied. The lightly sardonic words could've easily been a Mika line. But even though she had so much of Mika's indomitable spirit, they still weren't the same person. She wasn't hardened yet, or cynical. She was still just a kid trying to handle the flaming messes life kept throwing at her.
Kurda set the mug down on the bedside table so he could pull her into a shaky hug. The movement sent twinges of pain through his body, but it was worth it.
"I have so much I need to tell you, Gracie." Kurda whispered as he clung to her. "But I need you to know I love you, and I'm so proud of you. But above all else, I'm just so sorry."
"I know you are." She replied. Her voice trembled as she hugged him back. "I love you, and I never stopped loving you, even though I tried. But I need you to know it was wrong to keep that letter secret."
Kurda just held on tighter. Because as long as they were hugging, she couldn't see his face, or the tears that were streaming from his eyes. But he couldn't stop his body from shaking, so he was pretty confident he wasn't fooling her. When Kurda realized he couldn't hide from his consequences any longer, he reluctantly withdrew from the embrace. He looked Gracie directly in the eyes and willed himself not to waver.
She held his gaze just as firmly, and that was when he knew she'd been waiting seven years for this. To look him in the eye and demand an explanation. Until now, all she had was the secondhand summary of his trial proceedings, and more recently the heart-wrenching letter that closed some wounds but left new ones. Finally it was her turn to hear Kurda tell his story, not as a disgraced ex-General-ex-Prince-Elect, but as her dad. He owed her so much more than that, but it was a place to start.
So he started.
The long-awaited conversation wasn't any easier than it was the night Mika showed up unexpectedly at Kurda's doorstep. The pain and confusion that lingered between Kurda and Gracie was vastly different from that between Kurda and Mika - but it was equally difficult to navigate. And just like his conversation with Mika, at times it became excruciating.
And just like Mika, she'd never truly written him off. Not even when all evidence suggested she should. She was angry, and hurt - rightfully so. But she listened carefully to every single word he said.
But when it was over, Kurda felt lighter than he had in years. And the tears that stained his face didn't burn like they used to.
"Dad always told me I needed to form my own opinions about you, after all that happened." Said Gracie, once it was all said and done, and she was sitting on the cot beside him and leaning into his less-damaged shoulder. "He gave me all the information, and told me there was no wrong way to feel about it. But there was no right way to feel, either. That was the hardest part."
"You know, after my trial he took me into that little meeting room behind the thrones and laid out the new rules where you were concerned... that I wasn't allowed to visit you, or contact you. And I don't blame him at all, after what I did. But it was still the worst moment of the worst day of my life."
"That entire week was a pretty low point for the family legacy, if we're being honest." Said Gracie with a hollow, bitter laugh.
"You're not wrong. But I never respected Mika as much as I did that day." Kurda added, struggling to get the words out. "Because he promised he wouldn't try to turn you against me. Even then, he knew I loved you as much as he did, and he knew I'd never hurt you. He told me he was going to be honest with you about everything, so you'd have all the information to form your own opinion. And he kept his word."
"I know. Even when he was a complete mess, he tried so hard to keep it together for me. Maybe too hard. Sometimes I wish he just told me how to feel. Whether it was to keep loving you or start hating you, at least I wouldn't have driven myself crazy trying to do both."
"Mika never was very good at telling you what to do. Which is ironic considering who he is as a person." Kurda murmured with a ghost of a chuckle, his arm wrapped snugly around her shoulders. As hard as this conversation was, he never wanted it to end. "Not even when you were little. It used to drive me crazy." He added.
"You weren't exactly hard on me yourself." Gracie snorted.
"Oh trust me, I'm aware." Said Kurda. "But the way Mika treated you contradicted everything I thought I knew about him before you came along. It was incredible, getting to know that side of him." He paused for a moment, lost in the memories. For the first time in a terribly long time, he realized he was really, truly smiling. And he continued his train of reminiscing. Gracie didn't seem to mind. "Until it was time to put a foot down - like when you'd throw tantrums because you wanted to stay up later, and suddenly Mr. Autocratic Dictator Prince was nowhere to be found, and I'd get stuck being the bad guy." Kurda added.
Gracie managed a thin smile and rolled her eyes.
"I remember the first time I met Darren... his jaw hit the table when he found out you two raised me." She recounted. "It was pretty obvious he thought you were made of sunshine and rainbows, and that Dad was the world's biggest asshole."
"Based only on Darren's first impressions of both of us, that certainly adds up. In his wildest dreams that poor boy would've never predicted how that council was going to end." Kurda sighed. And his smile began to fade. He supposed he should've known the crippling guilt would never truly disappear. "Darren trusted and befriended me immediately, and I was plotting against the clan the whole time. And on the other side of that coin, Mika was only ever trying to do his job to the best of his abilities. Although I'll admit I was disappointed by his harsh reception of Darren, considering he had a daughter the same age. I hoped he'd have been more sympathetic than he was."
Gracie nodded thoughtfully.
"I wasn't a vampire. Darren was. Well, at least half a vampire." She said at last, with a tiny shrug. "It all comes back to that. In Dad's mind, he separated me from everyone else."
"You're absolutely right." Said Kurda quietly. "We did it, though. I'll never regret our decision to adopt you. Not for a single second. I wish we -mostly I- did a lot of things differently, but you will forever be the best thing that's ever happened. To me, to Mika, to this entire world. Whether the world knows it or not."
It's my own design
It's my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the most
It wasn't exactly effortless for Mika to refocus on clan business, but he didn't have a choice. He was also acutely aware how bad it would look if he dropped everything to sit at the bedside of the man who - as far as the clan knew - plotted to kill him once. While Kurda's reception hadn't been as vicious as his grand exit, it wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy, either. And Mika knew he couldn't entirely blame the clan for that. Most of them knew better now than they did back then, Mika included. But no matter how you sliced it, it was still convoluted as all fuck.
At least he didn't have much time to think about it. As promised, Mika, Arrow, and Darren gathered everyone in the Hall of Princes the next day to give their official explanation of the sequence of events that had ended the War of the Scars. It was long and exhausting and chaotic. But by the time it was all said and done, there was an undeniable sense of relief in the room. While it wasn't the clear-cut total vampiric victory the clan had been longing for, it was progress. Of course, there'd always be the staunch protestors who loathed the idea of a peaceful coexistence with the vampaneze at this point. There weren't as many of them as Mika expected, but they always seemed to have the loudest voices.
"Fucking do it then, if you feel that strongly!" Mika snarled across the hall after the fifth time Darren was interrupted by someone ranting belligerently about how they'd rather die on the stakes than take part in the direction the clans seemed to be heading. "You know where the stake pit is. Nobody is forcing you to do anything. So either make good on your word, or sit down and shut the hell up."
His reprimand wouldn't change their minds, but it did keep them quiet long enough for Darren to fully explain the situation and to spend the last hour answering miscellaneous questions from the crowd.
Finally it was over. The audience had long since cleared out, and the Princes had dismissed the handful of senior Generals that had stayed behind for a brief high-level discussion. Renley, of course, was among them. His face was unreadable, but he was as civil as ever and Mika did not attempt to decode him. He had enough on his mind.
With the Generals gone, it was just the core group left. Now that the first hurdle had been cleared, the Princes would discuss next steps upon the throne platform. Just as soon as Larten Crepsley hauled his sorry ass up the stairs. Against Dr. Yang's recommendations, Larten had broken free from the infirmary, arrived late, and had sat in the front row for the entire conference looking like his body was trying to pass out but his mind was keeping him conscious out of pure spite.
"Alright, I can't watch this anymore." Said Mika bluntly after watching Larten struggle up the first two steps and swat away Darren, Seba, and Harkat in turn when they tried to help him. "This is the saddest thing I've seen this decade, and that's saying a lot."
Mika swiftly stood up from his throne and made his way down the platform steps, despite the mutters of protest he was met with.
"I have told all of you, I do not need assistance!" Larten growled hoarsely while Darren and Seba rolled their eyes. "I am wounded, not incapacitated. Please do not-"
"Oh, shut up." Mika grumbled, not unkindly. He linked his arm through Larten's and began to help him up the stairs, cane and all. "I don't answer to you. While your tenacity is admirable, we don't have time to watch you trip your way up the stairs for the next two hours."
"It's good to see you back in this room, Larten." Said Arrow, as Larten collapsed (i.e. gently shoved by Mika) into Vancha's vacant throne. "I admit I didn't expect to see you at today's meeting. You weren't... all there when I visited you in the infirmary yesterday."
"I cannot sit idle... as clan history is being made!" Larten huffed back, breathing laboured. "It will take more than a few gruesome injuries... to keep me from being... part of it."
"Thought it was because you like doing the opposite of what Darren tells you." Mika chipped in wryly.
"Darren hand-delivered the vampaneze clan's filthiest, most dishonourable criminal... to our sacred home." Larten snapped back, dead-eyeing both Mika and Arrow in return. "Forgive me, Sires. But I refuse to obey the orders of a Prince... who would allow something so utterly depraved."
Mika flicked his gaze over to Darren and raised an eyebrow. Mika had heard all about the moment when Larten finally regained consciousness after spending over a day in a comatose state. Darren wasted no time filling Larten in on what happened. And then he added the cherry on top: the infamous Steve Leonard had not only been spared, but shipped back to Vampire Mountain as part of the terms and conditions of the deal Darren and Vancha struck with Gannen. Larten took the news so poorly that Jai had to sedate him lest he injure himself further.
"You're still disowned, huh?" Mika asked Darren, arching an eyebrow.
"Completely." Darren affirmed grimly. "It'd be one thing if I'd acted completely of my own accord... But Vancha also signed off on it, and Mr. Crepsley knows-"
"All I know is that Sire March will be hearing from me when he shows his face back here." Larten spat, not looking at Darren. "He surely must have suffered some sort of blunt-force head trauma during the battle, because he was a bloody fool to have a hand in authorizing any of this!"
Mika sighed and ran his hand through his hair, leaning back into his throne wearily.
"Larten, you know we all consider you an equal." Said Mika, with a valiant attempt at patience. "But this isn't getting us anywhere. Honestly, I probably would have objected to Darren and Vancha's decision, if I'd been there. But I wasn't, so I trust they acted in the clan's best interest in a difficult situation when time wasn't on their side. Darren knows the prisoner better than anyone-"
"I am the one who tested his blood!" Larten cut Mika off, wildfire raging in his eyes. "I do not know if anyone told you, but Darren has an incredibly poor track record with naivety where this man is concerned!"
Mika opened his mouth to say, "I have literally no idea what you expect me to do about it at this point" but Darren had his own response locked and loaded, and it was way better. So Mika kept his mouth shut and observed them hash it out.
"You don't think I've figured out who and what he is?" Darren roared, going from collected to vicious before anyone could blink. "You don't think I clued in when we walked into the giant underground death trap he built for us?! I'm not a child, Larten! But my nephew is! And until I figure out where Steve's hiding him and my sister, he's not going anywhere! Gannen made us a damn good deal. Vancha and I would've been stupid to pass it up. And if you'd been conscious to protest, you would've been overruled! Because you had your chance to be a Prince, remember? And you walked away! I'm only in this situation because of your recklessness, so the least you can do is back down and let me do my fucking job!"
At least a full minute of ringing silence followed Darren's outburst. Mika broke it eventually - no one else seemed to be leaping at the opportunity. Larten was positively apoplectic with fury, but Darren wasn't budging. His arms were crossed and his face was severe as he glared back at Larten.
"I don't know what's more impressive, Darren. The fact that you called him by his first name, or that you said 'fuck'." Mika remarked drily. Darren shot him an equally dry smile that didn't quite reach his tired eyes, before looking back at Larten.
Part of Mika fully understood where Larten was coming from. A bigger part of him than he cared to admit, actually. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't quite place it. All the blood, sweat, and tears both clans poured into this war... and suddenly, it was just over? The legendary Vampaneze Lord was punted into a flame pit by a ragtag group of rebels Kurda had seemingly pulled out of thin air, and Vancha's brother immediately followed up with a peace offering in exchange for his bratty apprentice's life?
Maybe the vampaneze - like the vampires - had reached the grim understanding that a blood feud wasn't worth the price both clans had spent seven years paying. Maybe Gannen Harst truly loved the wayward human-turned-halfblood who'd stumbled across his path years ago. Who was Mika to judge that? Sure, Mika's adopted human turned out a hell of a lot better than Gannen's homicidal trainwreck of an apprentice. But sometimes you can't help who you love. Be it romantic, platonic, familial, or anything in between.
"Mika and I don't want to get involved in your... pseudo-family drama." Arrow was informing Larten. "But if you keep this up, we'll either have to give you an executive order to stop being a fucking moron, or have you escorted from the Hall of Princes. And both of those options would be really embarrassing for you."
Larten fixed Arrow and Mika with a pained expression.
"You do not know this man." Larten almost whispered. "I do not know how else to explain to all of you that having him in Vampire Mountain is a threat to all of us."
"Larten, we get it." Arrow groaned, bowing his head and running his palms slowly along his tattooed scalp. "He's in the maximum security dungeon with a rotation of our most experienced guards. Clearly you've lost all faith in us, but I promise you we're taking this seriously."
"I put Jakob Wiles in charge of Leonard's security detail." Mika added seriously. "I fought at his side for five years and he's one of the best. He was already good when I started putting the finishing touches on his training - now he's solid as a rock. And he lost someone he loved to the vampaneze, so I assure you he will not be fucking around. Not that the guy will be going anywhere anytime soon. Jai told me he was in worse shape than you or Kurda."
"How is Kurda?" Larten inquired rather stiffly, electing to ignore Mika's comments on Steve. "I admit I was rather preoccupied when I came to. I did not think to ask about him."
"He had a rough night, but he'll be fine." Said Mika carefully. Larten's face was unreadable, but Mika braced himself for another argument. He vividly remembered the night of the funerals for those who'd fallen in the Battle of the Tunnels. Mika had stepped out of the Hall of Princes to get some air, and was greeted by Larten attempting to rock his jaw. Having endured the losses of Gavner Purl and Arra Sails in quick succession, he was wracked by grief and unable to accept that Kurda was allowed to walk away with his life. Ah, sweet nostalgia.
"Kurda's actions were incredibly honourable." Said Larten in the same clipped tone that suggested it was paining him to admit it. "His intuition ultimately saved us. I will always resent him for taking Gavner from this world, and for his indirect role in Arra's downfall. But I am willing to admit he saved us."
Mika hadn't expected that. Larten's eyes remained fixed on Mika as he spoke. The expression on his face was difficult to read. A begrudging sort of approval, almost.
"Why are you looking at me, Larten?" Mika asked, suddenly weary. "In case you missed it, Kurda and I parted ways a long time ago. Let me be perfectly clear. I'm assessing this situation as a Prince. Not as Kurda's one-time significant other."
"I apologize." Said Larten briskly, reddening. "I was not implying-"
"Whatever limited connections I've maintained with Kurda are for Gracie's benefit, and all of that is completely separate from clan business." Mika continued icily. "Kurda told you I had no idea he was planning any sort of intervention, and that was the truth. Wasn't the first time he withheld information from me."
Fact: Mika's glad Kurda's back. That sense of relief is tied up in a lot of other complex emotions, but it's definitely there. Mika also still loves Kurda. That's old news. At this point, he'd never dream of actually doing anything with those feelings ever again. He's learned to live with them, and be okay with it.
Fact: Mika now knows Kurda was instructed by Evanna to not tip off any other vampires of his plans. Mika understands that - in theory.
Fact: Mika also knows Kurda was clinging to life by a thread in that cavern, and only survived because Darren had a moment of dangerously impulsive altruism. Kurda really almost died and left Mika and Gracie with a ball of excruciating emotions so tangled they'd never find full closure. Sure the letter helped, but it didn't undo all that damage.
Fact: Sometimes things are just hard to accept, no matter what the facts tell you. Seven years after his world ended, Mika still isn't entirely sure how he's supposed to be feeling from one moment to the next. Only difference is, he's used to it now.
"I still cannot believe those vampaneze took direction from Smahlt." Seba contributed, speaking for the first time since they'd gathered. "Half their clan reviled him for his betrayal, just as ours did - and many still do. The rebellion against their Lord contradicted everything we know about them. I am glad it achieved the desired effect, but it is a little hard to fathom."
"Like Kurda said, they felt their Lord's reign of chaos was doing more damage to their clan than their decision to defy their own laws. They were trying to walk in the footsteps of the original vampaneze who broke away because they didn't want to answer to the Princes back then." Said Darren. "And ironically, they had to take a cue from an ex-Prince-Elect to do that." Darren was staring contemplatively at the ceiling now, slouched sideways in his throne now with one leg dangling over the side. He looked so much more confident there than he used to. And he'd earned it.
"If I may be so bold as to ask, what is next for Kurda?" Larten asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
You have mixed feelings, Quicksilver? Mika thought. Join the fucking club.
"We'll be discussing it when Vancha gets back." Said Darren evenly, ignoring the fact that Larten had clearly been addressing Mika (who was perfectly fine with not being the one to answer that question).
"No traitor has ever walked away with their life. Much less circled back afterwards." Arrow added. "I'm not saying Kurda has fully redeemed himself, or ever will. Even if all four Princes came together and unanimously agreed to pardon him, I feel that would be unfair to the clan not to have a public trial. But even I can admit that Kurda's actions were unexpectedly impressive, and I've always been his loudest critic even at the best of times."
"We know." Mika muttered. He couldn't resist.
"You're right, Arrow. We can't overlook the past. He didn't just turn on the sitting Princes at the time. He turned on every vampire in this clan. We can't order everyone to just let it go." Darren continued, firmly looking Arrow in the eye. "That's why I believe Kurda deserves the opportunity to earn back the position he once held."
Larten stiffened, as Mika knew he would.
"It is one thing to accept his intervention was beneficial. It is entirely another to suggest he will ever be a General again, never mind a Prince-Elect!" Larten growled. Darren whipped around sharply to glare at his mentor.
"Did I say we should reinstate his titles?" Darren retorted, eyes blazing. "I'm saying Kurda was respected and admired once, titles or not. And he accomplished that against all odds, with half the clan rejecting everything he stood for. Knowing what we know now, why shouldn't he have the chance to do it again? And don't you dare look at me like that when you know damn well I was the one to witness Gavner's murder firsthand!"
Mika felt his chest tighten at that reminder. The image of Kurda crumpled against a wall in a deserted hallway the night Darren and Gavner disappeared, sobbing his lungs out in apparent blind terror was forever seared into Mika's memory. Mika, already having a PhD in panic, literally picked Kurda up off the floor and carried him to a safe, quiet place. He had no reason to expect the words he eventually coaxed from Kurda's trembling lips weren't the truth. They weren't a total lie - Kurda was indeed sickened and devastated by the outcome of Darren's failed trial. But it was Gavner's blood on his hands that brought him to his knees that night. And Mika knew without a shadow of a doubt that Kurda truly loathed himself for it, and would regret it as long as he lived. But as Mika has coldly reminded Kurda during last year's painful reunion, remorse didn't make Gavner any less dead.
Larten narrowed his eyes further, but didn't argue. At least, not out loud.
"I do not know how I feel about Kurda's role in all of this. But I do know the boy speaks like a true Prince. I am proud of you, Darren." Seba murmured, his eyes seeming to glisten in the light of the dome.
"The boy has been a true Prince for like seven years now, where have you been?" Mika commented bluntly, breaking the contemplative silence he'd been holding throughout the exchange regarding Kurda's future. Seba nodded affirmatively and exhaled a soft chuckle. Darren rolled his eyes but shot Mika a grin in return, a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. He may have been a grown-ass adult, but he was still Darren.
"If we're all in agreement that we won't make any executive decisions til Vancha gets back, we might as well move on. Otherwise it'll be the same dead-end conversation. Just because the war is over doesn't mean this is an easy situation for any of us." Said Arrow, not without empathy. "And by us, I mostly mean you three." He added, glancing a little uncomfortably from Darren, to Larten, to Mika in turn.
"Really?" Said Mika sarcastically. "I feel like I'm breezing through this. It's past midnight and I haven't even started drinking yet."
"Your professionalism is truly inspiring." Arrow snorted. He rolled his eyes and patted Mika heavily on the shoulder. It was a lighthearted gesture, but it didn't match the more serious look in his dark eyes. And Mika knew full well that Arrow was remembering the first night of Kurda's exile seven years ago. The bad night.
MVL: I'm not fragile. Stop looking at me like that.
A: I'd never imply that. You're the toughest bastard I know. But you can't deny he has a history of getting in your head.
MVL: Fucking sue me, I guess. It's not like we're getting back together. But we still have a kid.
A: I get it. But you know as well as I do how Kurda makes you... less like yourself.
MVL: That used to be a good thing.
Arrow sighed, but didn't press the issue.
Of freedom and of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world
Gracie was still at Kurda's side when Mika returned to the infirmary to check in.
"How are you feeling?" Mika asked as he sat down on the foot of the bed.
"I've been better." Said Kurda, with a wry smile at Gracie. "But I've had good company."
"Well, I'm currently an unemployed freeloader who just moved back into my dad's place, so I don't have much else going on." Said Gracie. Her tone was dry, but she was smiling too.
"I missed you both today." Said Mika quietly, looking pointedly at each of them in turn. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long."
"How'd it go?" Gracie asked.
"As you'd expect." Said Mika. "A lot of people have a lot of opinions. About the pending peace treaty, about the prisoner Darren brought back, about your role in all of it..."
"Imagine that." Said Kurda with a ghost of a smile. "I'm going to end up on trial, aren't I?"
"Yes." Said Mika quietly. He heard Gracie inhale sharply, so he added, "But it won't be like the last one."
"How do you know?" Gracie asked, her voice uncharacteristically urgent.
"Because everything has changed." Said Kurda. "But for better or worse, I still committed high treason once. I'd never be so presumptuous to believe I have the right to walk back into this mountain with no questions asked."
"The official trial will be once Vancha gets back." Mika explained, glancing at Gracie and Kurda in turn. "Assuming he agrees to it, and I think he will. I'd never let any harm come to you, and the other Princes agree that you shouldn't be punished for breaking the terms of your exile. But your original betrayal impacted the whole clan... so it wouldn't be fair to revise your sentence behind closed doors."
"I thought your words were the law." Gracie spoke up, a cutting edge to her voice. "Since when do the Princes need to run their executive decisions by the general public?" She was surveying Mika with a narrowed, steely gaze that was so scalding he actually leaned back a little bit.
"Because this clan isn't out of the woods yet." Said Mika evenly. "Just because the Vampaneze Lord is dead doesn't mean we'll all live happily ever after. Half the clan is going to riot when word of the peace treaty spreads. We only just laid down our weapons against our blood cousins. We don't need a civil war within-"
"So you're holding a trial for someone who risked everything for peace TWICE?!" Gracie snapped.
"It'a okay, Gracie." Kurda murmured. "He's right. Look what happened to the Vampaneze Lord. When a group of his followers felt he was disrespecting their clan laws, they literally pushed him into a flaming stake pit. I know - I was there."
"The Vampaneze Lord is nothing like the Vampire Princes." Gracie shot back. "Not even close! You can't make that comparison."
Mika drew breath to argue, but Kurda cautiously reached out and placed his hand on Mika's forearm, and Mika remained silent.
"They're more similar than you realize." Said Kurda seriously. "At least, in theory. Not literally, as it turned out. The Vampaneze Lord was a depraved man without a shred of honour or decency to his name. He was chosen by a magical artifact, not by his clan mates. Whereas the vampire clan has control over who gets leadership positions, and an intensive screening process to keep that power from falling into the wrong hands. Guess they weren't paying attention when they let me slip through the cracks... was that too soon?" He allowed himself a dark chuckle, but Mika and Gracie were both glaring reproachfully at him.
"I think inappropriately dark comedy should just be my thing." Said Mika tonelessly.
Kurda rolled his eyes, cleared his throat and carried on:
"The Vampaneze Lord was supposed to have the same power as a Vampire Prince - unconditional obedience from his clan, total control. But he acted without honour, he disgraced the legacy of the original vampaneze who fought to separate themselves from the original Princes and preserve their own freedom. So the Lord's downfall came at the hands of his own, because they felt their betrayal against him was a lesser crime than the ones he was committing." Kurda continued.
"And I respect the hell out of the Last Stand for that." Said Mika sombrely. "In a million years I never would have seen that coming."
"That's why, no matter what the ancient laws say, it's a leader's responsibility to respect those impacted by their decisions. This is why we have open trials. Because no matter what else happened, I still hurt the clan seven years ago. And if I come back for good, it needs to be because the clan thought I deserved to - not because the Princes told them to get over it." Kurda finished.
Gracie still looked troubled, but she didn't try to counter Kurda's gentle explanation. She sat on the cot with her head bowed and her face in her hands, processing. Kurda tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away and he withdrew.
"I don't like it either, Gracie." Mika added in an undertone. "But he's absolutely right. You think I want to put him on trial again after all this?"
After a moment, she raised her head to look Mika dead in the eye once more. For a moment she looked like she was about to speak, but couldn't get the words out. But she didn't need spoken words or even vampiric telepathy for Mika to hear her loud and clear.
"You won't lose him again." He told her firmly. And he meant it so thoroughly, it was enough to keep his voice steady. "Not like before - I won't let that happen. I don't know what the future will look like, but I promise you will both be okay."
She nodded shakily and wiped a tear from her eye. Then she looked to Kurda. And suddenly Kurda knew exactly what was coming next, so he braced himself. Because that was all he could do now. It was out of his hands. Maybe it had never even been in his hands in the first place.
"I'm joining the clan." She said. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you because it's happening, and I still want you to be part of my life."
She held up her hand to show Kurda the five tiny half-closed cuts on her fingertips.
"Gracie-"
"No, let me finish. Dad was about to blood me yesterday. We got this close, and he stopped at the last second because he got the message from Uncle Vancha. We didn't know you were coming back - but you did. And now I know it was because you were meant to be here for it."
Her voice began to shake as the tears began to fall again, but she didn't back down and Kurda didn't try to interrupt again. He just held her. He hugged her tightly, and his eyes found Mika's - weary but determined. Kurda heard his familiar mental presence reach out silently through the few feet of space between them.
MVL: I'm sorry. But you and I both know she deserves to choose. And you fight against her on this, you'll be fighting me too. And I don't want to be on opposite sides ever again.
KS: I'm not fighting. She's right.
Kurda watched Mika's face immediately shift from resignation to suspicion - clearly Mika had been bracing for an argument. But Mika didn't yet know about Evanna's revelation, because there simply aren't enough hours in a day, and yesterday was fucked up enough without Kurda also dropping that bomb on top of everything else. But the time was quickly approaching.
Kurda shifted his attention away from Mika as Gracie steadied herself and met his eyes once more.
"There has to be a reason you found me as a baby. I refuse to believe all of that happened just so I could live out my days as a human somewhere!" She choked out. "Part of me always wondered if I truly belonged in the clan, but now I know I do. So I'm choosing it for myself. I know you hate the idea of me becoming a vampire. Dad didn't want it for me either, but at least he respected me enough to honour my choice-"
"Gracie, stop." Kurda croaked. "It's okay."
"...It is?"
Kurda closed his eyes and heard Evanna's words in his mind, as if he was back in her cave all over again.
"You heard me. Where do you think she came from? Don't tell me you've never considered how convenient it was, that the orphan you plucked from certain death in the very middle of nowhere turned out to be a precise blend of both you and Mika, as if she was woven from your very DNA? That she has his mind, or your heart?"
Then the cave faded away, and he was back in Vampire Mountain. But not in this room. He was in the Hall of Khledon Lurt, and it was about twenty-one years ago. He was sitting at a table labouring over a particularly challenging map. It had been going on two hours. Gracie was with him, patiently colouring on her own sheets of paper beside him. Kurda was driving himself crazy trying to get the scaling right on his map - but for whatever reason the thing just wasn't cooperating with him. At one point he got so frustrated he tossed his pencil and let out a groan of frustration. Gracie, age four, asked him what was wrong. Her little face looked so worried, Kurda instantly felt guilty. So he put his arms around her and pulled her into his lap and gently explained (in the simplest terms he could manage) why his current "art project" was causing him such a hassle. And Gracie had smiled up at him with the most impeccably pure look in her eyes, and said:
"That's okay, Daddy. You can have my map."
And she handed him the sheet of paper she'd been drawing on. Kurda had been so wrapped up in his own work, he hadn't been paying attention. Admittedly, he'd given her a few throwaway comments like "that looks nice, sweetie" while he worked, but he never actually looked at it. But when he finally did, it was clear she'd been quietly copying him the entire time. Her map was even less to scale than his, and a lot more purple, but she put more effort into it than could've been reasonably expected from any four-year-old. Kurda still had her map folded up somewhere, safe in his room.
But trips down memory lane are always fleeting.
"What's going on, Kurda?" Came Mika's voice. Soft and unchallenging, but pointed enough to cut through the memory and jolt Kurda back to the present. Kurda glanced back at Mika for a second, and was unable to keep the emotion from his face. Mika looked concerned, and Kurda could see the gears turning in Mika's head, the realization that there was still another shoe to drop. Mika's concern began to look more like badly disguised panic, but Kurda didn't linger on him. This wasn't about them.
"You're right, Gracie." Kurda whispered. "It wasn't an accident. You're a bigger part of us than you know."
"I don't understand. All my life I couldn't even joke about becoming a vampire. I know we haven't talked in a while, but that's it?!" Gracie challenged him. She narrowed her eyes shrewdly, once again channeling pure Mika.
Oh gods, if only she knew. But she was about to. Kurda sighed, and gave her shoulder a little squeeze.
"I'm not going to sit here and pretend I don't have strong feelings about this." He told her slowly. And it was true, the idea still scared him more than half to death. "But you're right. It's not my place to step in and try to change the course of your life. Mika was right to honour your choices."
"Okay. So what the hell changed?"
"It's a long story. You said your schedule was open all night, right?" Kurda asked with a grim smile.
"Like I said..." she chuckled darkly. "Unemployed freeloader."
Kurda's gaze returned to Mika.
"And you?" He asked. "Got any pressing engagements?"
"I'm the boss." Said Mika with a grim smile. "I do what I want."
Kurda took a deep breath, and then another.
"You were both there when I told you about my meeting with Evanna, and how she told me things I didn't know I needed to hear... Well, I didn't tell you everything." He began at last.
Kurda's heart clenched as he watched panic flash through Mika's eyes. He couldn't blame him for that knee-jerk reaction to finding out that once again, Kurda withheld serious information from them. With his left arm still wrapped around Gracie's shoulders, Kurda cautiously extended his right hand to Mika, who looked utterly disconsolate sitting there alone at the foot of the bed. Mika stared back at Kurda, his eyes glazed over with dread.
KS: This is the last thing. I promise.
MVL: No. I can't handle another thing.
KS: You told Gracie and I we'd be okay. And so will you. Trust me.
Mika looked down at the hand Kurda was offering. For a moment, he thought Mika was going to get up and leave. But when Mika slipped his hand into Kurda's, Kurda knew neither of them could imagine being anywhere else. The way their fingers locked together wasn't a glimpse at romance, nor a misplaced spark of hope at any sort of future. It wasn't even a teasing reminder of what they used to be. It transcended romance, and in that moment Kurda truly didn't care if he even kissed Mika again as long as they lived. Because after seven years of living in two private hells, they had each other back. And they had Gracie.
So Kurda began to talk. And he didn't stop until he was finally out of secrets.
There's a room where the light won't find you
Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down
When they do I'll be right behind you
Mika truly hadn't been exaggerating when he told Kurda he couldn't handle any more earth-shattering twists of fate or bombshell revelations. He automatically braced himself for the worst, feeling physically ill as Kurda slowly began to retell the story of his visit to Evanna's cave. Surely there had to be some fresh dose of terror or trauma in whatever details he hadn't wanted to share with the others upon his return yesterday. And Mika prematurely drew that conclusion with the evidence he had:
First, Evanna was Evanna. The legendary sorceress was not in the business of fucking around. Arra always had plenty of stories about the time she spent as one of Evanna's apprentices. Anyone who wasn't scared of Evanna was an idiot.
Second, Kurda looked more serious than Mika had ever seen him. And that was scary.
Third, Mika knew better than to hope. For anything, ever.
Mika's cynicism was a wickedly effective defence mechanism he'd spent his entire life honing to perfection. He'd let his guard down in the past, and paid for it dearly. But the ice-cold iron bars around his heart didn't stand a chance against the truth. Because the truth was better than anything he would've dared to dream of. It didn't make a shred of sense, but at the same time it suddenly seemed like the only possible reason for any of this.
Somehow, against all logic and reason, she really was theirs.
"It was never a coincidence." Kurda finished at last, almost unable to get the words out by the time the story was all said and done. His eyes were wet, but he was smiling. "We were always meant to find you, Gracie. She took the best of both of us... and she gave us you. And that's it. You finally know everything. Both of you."
Mika felt his entire body trembling uncontrollably, and the tears streaming silently from his eyes. But for the first time, they didn't burn. Sure, this new revelation was confusing and scary as hell, but so was everything else that had happened. The difference was that this didn't leave Mika feeling like yet another piece of his soul had been taken from him. This felt like one of those broken pieces finding its home. Or maybe it was a piece that had been missing all along, a piece he didn't know he needed. And now that he had it, he didn't know how he ever lived without it.
A firm squeeze of Kurda's hand pulled Mika back down to earth. And when Mika looked up, the first thing he saw was those starlit eyes that pretty much took up the entire horizon. At least, as far as Mika could see. There was profound worry in those pools of blue, though. Kurda squeezed his hand again.
"Still with us?" Kurda murmured. And those three simple syllables were as soft and soothing as the thousand other times he'd been the anchor when Mika was tripping over the lines between the good, the bad, and the ugliest places in his own mind. Suddenly, those dark ugly corners seemed so small and far away.
Kurda squeezed his hand again, and Mika realized he'd been staring at him silently with his mouth hanging open, probably looking mildly catatonic. No wonder Kurda looked so worried.
Before Mika could coordinate his last few stubborn brain cells to say he was better than okay, that the universe finally made sense, Gracie got there first.
"So I wasn't an accident after all." She croaked out, her voice wavering. But she managed a shaky laugh.
"Nothing about you has ever been an accident." Kurda whispered urgently, squeezing her shoulders tightly with one arm while the other limb remained connected to Mika. "This changes nothing. It only proves what we already knew. You're our daughter - no questions asked."
"I've known you were mine ever since the very first time you stopped crying when I picked you up." Said Mika. And finding those words was the easiest thing he'd ever done. "I don't need a sorceress to tell me that. I'm just sorry she used you."
"I'm not." Said Gracie. "For better or worse, I am who I am because she used me. I wouldn't want to be anyone else. And I wouldn't trade you for anything... either of you."
Kurda exhaled heavily, and his eyes found Mika's again.
KS: This is us.
Mika nodded imperceptibly. And the profound understanding that passed between them was comparable only to the moment at the orphanage when they unknowingly made the decision that would change the course of their entire world. So much had changed since then. But the parts that mattered were all still there. Bent, cracked, and tarnished by the passage of time - but as strong now as they were then. Maybe stronger.
Kurda folded both his arms around Gracie and held her against his chest. Mika had been sitting on the foot of the bed til that point, keeping a respectful distance as Gracie and Kurda took those first small steps to repair what had been broken. But Mika was so done with the three-way distance that had fractured them. So he closed the space between them, held them both as tightly as he could and let the rest of the world fade away. Nothing outside this room mattered.
"Can I please just be a vampire now?" Came Gracie's voice after an indeterminate amount of time, muffled against Kurda's shoulder.
Kurda's body shook with a weak laugh as he nodded. Gracie slowly looked up, and she was grinning from ear to ear. The smile itself was sweet and childlike as it had always been, but the look in her eyes was anything but naive, they were blazing with fierce determination. She hadn't asked for any of this, and she most certainly hadn't deserved any of the curveballs destiny had hurled at her without remorse. But she'd risen from the ashes, and now she was strong enough to take those curveballs and throw them back in destiny's face. And she wouldn't be alone.
"If I wasn't out of excuses before, I am now." Said Mika. He sat up a little straighter. "I'm ready whenever you are, Gracie."
"I've been ready for this my whole life." She affirmed.
Mika watched with light concern as Kurda closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, and then another.
"I'm so sorry I ever doubted you." Kurda told her. "You're going to be better than either of us ever were."
"I understand why you tried to steer me to the human world." Said Gracie. And she spoke with all the diplomacy of a career politician. "I know it won't always be easy. But now that I know this life chose me, I have to choose it back."
"I'm just glad I get to be here." Said Kurda, reaching out and ruffling her hair like he used to when she was little. That brilliant white-gold hair that had always been eerily similar to his own.
"Okay..." said Mika. "Let's try this again." He took a deep steadying breath, withdrew the dagger he always kept on his belt, and made ten neat slices in his fingertips. Gracie did the same on her own hands.
And at last, she slowly raised her hands and pressed her fingertips into Mika's. Like before, her hands weren't shaking at all. But unlike before, neither was his.
So glad we've almost made it
So sad they had to fade it
Everybody wants to rule the world
You learn a lot by living in a cage while the rest of the world carries on around you. You make observations. You pick up on things. The people around you tell you their secrets - and they don't even realize they're doing it.
Steve still couldn't believe how easy it was to get into Vampire Mountain. Darren played right into his hands. And this is the legendary Child Prince of the vampire clan?! If their management was that piss-poor, they deserved everything that was coming to them as far as Steve was concerned.
Darren had already been here twice. Already screamed at Steve through the bars til he was blue in the face, alternating between begging and threatening Steve for even a crumb of information on Annie and Darius. And Steve hadn't even told Darren the kid's name yet. Hadn't given him an inch. And none of these vampires would lay a finger on him, because if they did, the "deal" Gannen proposed would be off. And apparently the vampires were over the war. So much for barbarism being a staple of their culture. If they'd gotten that soft, they had no one to blame but themselves.
As for the vampaneze who'd turned their backs on their Lord? (Well, man they thought was their Lord. Same difference). They could go down with the vampires.
Maybe not all the vampires, though. One of the guys they put in charge of Steve's VIP experience (i.e. maximum security imprisonment) was quite a conversationalist. At first, he sneered down his nose at Steve just like the rest of them. Steve didn't care, of course. If you go to the circus, expect to see clowns. But Steve had always been good at connecting with people.
"Learn anything new at the company meeting?" Steve greeted him with a toothy grin as the young vampire returned to his cell to switch out with the much less interesting guard who'd been standing there in the interim.
"Nothing you wouldn't already know, half-blooded scum." the guard growled. "Apparently you're a bit of an engineer, though."
"I prefer the term artist." Steve smirked back lazily. "Has Smahlt the Snake been torn apart by an angry mob yet?"
The guard's face darkened, and that caught Steve's attention. Steve was damn good at reading people, but even an idiot would've picked up on the fact that this guard had some opinions about the matter.
"Smahlt is protected under orders of the Princes." He growled.
"All of them?" Steve inquired offhandedly, arching an eyebrow. "Even the psycho vampaneze-hater?"
"Sire Shan gave the order that Smahlt wasn't to be touched, and the other two didn't argue." The guard replied with a shade of bitterness.
Steve let out a peal of raucous laughter that echoed back at him off the walls of his cell.
"What's so damn funny in there?" Said the guard, eyeing Steve reproachfully. "Finally lost your marbles?"
"Oh, nothing." Steve cackled. "Just the thought of the mighty vampire clan bowing on their knees for the kid who used to cry if his mom was five minutes late to pick him up from football practice. It's a little amusing. You vampires really will let anyone in here."
The guard rolled his eyes, but didn't jump to defend Darren's competence.
"So, what are they gonna do with Smahlt? Is one act of good behaviour all it takes to get back in the club after the first stunt he pulled?" Steve added, with a level of casualness that was nothing short of breezy.
"What's it to you?"
"Just making conversation! In case you haven't noticed, I'm bored out of my fucking skull in here." Said Steve, grinning again. "Even zoo animals get more enclosure enrichment than this. Don't let it go to your head, but our little heart-to-hearts are the highlight of my day."
"You made your bed, now lie in it. And be grateful you're alive to do it, because gods know you shouldn't be." The guard snarled. "Just shut up."
"You don't think much of Pacifist Barbie, do you?"
"What's there to think about? Once a traitor, always a traitor. We could've won the war without him. He's not a hero - he just seized an opportunity to gain our trust back and resume the only agenda he's ever had. I'm not falling for it."
Steve whistled appreciatively and slapped his knee.
"Damn!" He chortled. "Tell me how you really feel!"
"That's enough out of you for one day." The guard snapped, reddening and regaining a little composure. "Shut your mouth or I'll make sure you're not fed tonight."
"If it's bat broth again, don't bother." Said Steve jovially. But he didn't antagonize the guard any further. At least, for the rest of the night.
Steve had no earthly clue why these rock-brained vampires even thought they needed to keep an armed guard at his door constantly. There was no weak points Steve could exploit within the confines of this stony prison. Because obviously that was the first thing Steve looked for, on account of him not being a total moron. Stationing guards here was not only a waste of resources, it was an incredibly useful tool at Steve's disposal. They'd figure that out eventually.
And by then, it would be too late.
Everybody
wants
to
rule
the
world
At this point I've spent over 11 non-consecutive hours on this chapter, which is pretty much the norm these days. I am once again asking you to please for the love of god validate my need for outside approval by leaving me a comment. I am so tired.
Also, if you're invested in the Dirty Chai AU you probably know I've started re-writing This Is Us to make it fit the tone of Endgame and Bloodline a little better. So switching back and forth from writing this era of Bloodline, to those early chapters where Gracie is a baby and Mika and Kurda barely tolerate each other... my emotions are a little fried. In the best way, of course.
- Roxy