You guys know me. New movie. New books. New obsession. NEW FAN FIC!!!!!!!!!! Sorry. Anyway, I just got into the Cirque Du Freak series by watching the movie, and have read the first three books so far. (No spoilers please!!!!) Well, despite their differences, I love both the books and movie, and this fan fic was in the back of my mind. Please forgive any spelling errors, I tried to get them all. Enjoy!
By the way, considering the book repeatedly mentions that Darren has a heartbeat, I am assuming Crepsley does as well. After all, he mentioned something about it in the movie.
The night had been very long. First Darren disappeared. Then the clash with Murlogue. And, to top everything off nicely, the night ended with a knife in his leg. Well, he mused, at least it hadn't ended up in his heart.
Larten Crepsley limped across the quiet camp grounds used by the Cirque Du Freak during the winter, his mind heavy from his conversation with Gavner. The old general was right of course, soon as nightfall came he and Darren would have to move on.
First though, he needed to rest. Pausing momentarily, he glanced at his tent, considering whether or not to head to his coffin just yet. He certainly didn't want to miss sleeping in its womb-like interior for the last time in who could predict how long.
Undecided, the softly glowing light coming from Truska's tent caught his attention. Thinking for a moment, he made up his mind, limping painfully to the right, soon arriving at the door to her tent. Knocking quickly, he tried to stand naturally, concealing his leg wound with his blood red cloak. He didn't feel like re-living the night's events because of her inevitable questions.
Mere seconds after he'd knocked, Truska answered, her worried face telling him he was far from off the hook.
"Where have you been?" She asked immediately. "And why aren't you asleep yet?!!" She demanded, more alarmed once she realized how close to sunrise they were.
Before the wounded vampire even had a chance to explain, Truska grabbed hold of his cloak with both hands, deftly pulling him into her tent. Crepsley, too tired to argue, let himself be dragged to safety.
Shutting the door and covering the 'windows', Truska whirled on him, looking much the same way she had when he'd been missing for a few days while retrieving Madam Octa.
"Are you all right?" She asked as he sat heavily in the cushioned couch behind him.
He sighed, giving her a placating look. "Now now Truska, do I really look that bad?"
"You want the truth?" She asked, filling a glass with his favorite wine and handing it to him. "You look exhausted."
She sat next to him as he took the drink gratefully, sipping it down maybe a little too fast.
"Larten, what happened last night?" She prodded, more gently this time, noticing how he jerked reflexively when she placed a hand on his leg.
"Murlough was back." he said tiredly, staring into the remnants of the ruby liquid at the bottom of his glass. He would need to feed before he left.
"That crazy Vampaneeze you told me about?" She asked, studying his features.
He nodded, still not looking up. "I can't stay." he said softly, his eyes flicking up to look at her.
"Oh Larten." She said, her tone sympathetic and sad. "You really have to go?" she asked, rubbing her thumb back and forth where it rested on his thigh in a soothing gesture.
He winced, nodding. Looking at his leg, she realized the fabric of his pants was torn and wet. "Larten, what happened here?" She asked, moving to inspect the cut.
He covered her hands with one of his own, stopping her mid-movement. "It's nothing. I'll take care of it when I retire for the day."
"And when will that be?" She demanded, gesturing towards the quickly lightening door of the tent. "It's too light now."
He shrugged. "I'll be all right."
She shook her head, crossing her arms. "One day Larten Crepsley, you are going to show up on my doorstep with a stake in your chest and still you'll be trying to tell me that you're all right."
He smiled weakly, but he could see the genuine fear glittering in her eyes. If only she'd known how close he'd come to having that very thing happen just a few hours ago. For the first time in a long time, he'd actually thought he was going to die.
"Nothing a little spit will not fix." he assured her, pulling her close. "And see?" he said, bringing her hand to rest on his chest. "Still intact." He kissed her forehead gently, no longer wanting to be anywhere but there.
Truska sighed, not having the heart to press the matter. If he really had to leave, like she'd always known he eventually would, she didn't want to waste their last day bickering. She might never see him again.
The sat that way in silence for a long time, Truska leaning her head on his shoulder, her thumb stroking back and fourth on his chest, watching him breathe. His slowing heartbeat was detectable under her palm, and she smiled to herself, glancing up to see he'd given in to sleep. His troubled face was slack now, the worry lines lost in blissful oblivion. Listening to him breathe, Truska couldn't help but shake her head in amusement at the hoards of people who thought vampires to be cold, dead beings.
She knew most of the superstitions came from the vampaneze, but truthfully, she couldn't imagine not feeling the steady pulse under her fingers. She couldn't stand to try.
Knowing she had work to attend to, she gently kissed his throat and then lips before covering him with a blanket, slipping out silently.
Crepsley slept soundly all day and well into the evening, and when she returned that evening he was still soundly asleep.
Glad he was sleeping, but concerned that he'd exhausted himself to such and extent, she sat back where she'd been before, resting her hand and head on his chest. It wasn't long before his warmth and rhythmic breathing lulled her to sleep.
It was in this position that the vampire found her when he woke shortly after. Sensing that he sun had gone down and time was short, he rose carefully, shifting her gently to lay more comfortably on the couch. Slowly, he kissed her hand, then her neck, then her forehead, stroking her hair back gently.
Shortly after he emerged from the tent, heading to find Darren. Knowing she'd understand.
When Truska awoke, Crepsley was no where to be seen. Sitting up slowly, she found a rose had been tucked under her folded hands and a blanket had been pulled up around her shoulders.
Sensing in her heart that he was gone, Truska got up silently, laying the rose on the couch as she headed for her wardrobe. She had a show that night; she should get ready.
But her spirit wasn't in it. Despite the fact that she knew he couldn't stay around forever, his final absence left a space in her that was too distracting to ignore.
Trying to distract her thoughts, she stepped into her performer costume, wishing he'd at least woken her to say goodbye. Catching her reflection in the mirror as she pulled the sleeve of her shirt over her left shoulder, she paused, looking closer.
A tiny scar was barely visible at the base of her neck. Pressing her lips together, she brushed her fingers along the mark.
She didn't know if she'd ever see him again, but he had left her an eternal reminder; a Vampire's kiss.
Some might feel violated by what the mark meant, but that was the last thing she was feeling. Tears welling in her eyes, she smiled.
"Take care of yourself, Larten Crepsley."
You like? Or did it suck? (ha ha, vampire, suck XD) Ok, that was bad. Just review? Please? (I'll sic Octa on you)