Disclaimer first: I don't own the Coldfire trilogy. If I did I'd never cease writing stories about Erna, earn a lot of bucks and get those marvellous books on the big screen, preferably with Russel Crowe playing Damien Vryce. If some genius constructs a time machine for me I'd suggest a young David Bowie playing the Hunter, lol. But as it goes this is just a bit of fan fiction, no profit intended.
Excuses next: English is not my native language, and I did this without a beta reader, so please be gentle with me. Before I came across the Coldfire Trilogy last autumn and started to browse the www for some information I'd never been confronted with the fanfic phenomenon (well, I knew that some Kirk/Spock stories existed, but I'd never read one), and to make things worse I'd never written anything fictional before I felt tempted to write some Coldfire fanfics myself, so don't expect too much.
Hopes last: I hope that the Coldfire fandom isn't completely dead, that some of my fave stories will be updated soon ("new foundations", please?), that you can bear my sometimes queer sense of humour and that you will have at least half the fun reading my attempts than I had writing them. More will come soon, e.g. Little Red Riding Hood meeting the Hunter. No, that wasn't a joke. Maybe I can manage a whole series of fairy tales revisited, but I don't promise anything. There's still a lot of work to be accomplished concerning two very long (and very depressing) stories, and a Star Trek crossover is planned as well. So let's share our stories and have fun with our favourite couple. Lol!
A very last sigh: Some of you folks write so damn well! Maybe I should keep my writings inside my drawer (or inside the modern computerized equivalent...).
Of priests and patriarchs
A new start
Realizing that Gerald Tarrant's soul had survived the crusade Damien Vryce had somehow managed to make his peace with the Church of Unification, and when the Matriarch had practically begged him to teach at the priest seminary in Ganji he'd gladly accepted. Looking at the new exchange student from Jaggonath who was supposed to spend his third year of training in his class he seriously reconsidered the wisdom of his decision. The mischief and dark amusement which sparkled in those black, fathomless eyes inspired some very unholy wishes of strangling that arrogant bastard. Damien sighed. Some things really never changed...
Time to say good-bye
To contemplate saying good-bye again after enjoying each other's company for a year felt strangely uncomfortable, but they`d both agreed it was neccessary. Damien refused to leave his pupils, and Gerald wanted to finish his „education" in Jaggonath. Although some tension had been steadily building over the last twelve months they`d managed to keep their relationship on a strictly professional basis, mostly for Vryce's sake. But now, the last farewells at the seminary being said, Gerald wasn't in the mood to submit to silly morals. He carefully examined his looks once more and waited for his most welcome visitor.
When the door of his student's quarters finally opened Damien Vryce couldn't help but stare, resisting mightily the urge to pinch himself. He'd expected some polite farewell words, maybe accompanied by a few drinks, but he certainly wasn't prepared for the sight of Gerald wearing his long mane of black hair, an alluring smile and nothing else. In fact there weren't many words and no wine at all before he found himself naked on the bed with Gerald straddling him. The whole experience remembered Damien of being hit by an avalanche, including the bruises, but he would complain later. Maybe.
The letter in Damien's hand burned like hot coals, and he felt torn apart. After 15 years of teaching he still liked his job, but Gerald, who'd quickly risen in the Church's hierarchy, had offered him a prestigious position in Jaggonath. More tempting than the job itself was the possibility of spending more time together than the occasional passionate reunion. Damien wasn't sure what he actually preferred: the blissful lovemaking or Gerald lying sheltered in his arms, poking fun at his fellow clerics. Those malicious impersonations never failed to cause gales of laughter. Damien smiled tenderly. Time to move on.
The newly elected patriarch allowed himself a tired sigh when the heavy doors finally closed behind the last nosy journalist. The ceremonies had lasted all day, and on top of that every bloke who was able to hold a pen had wanted an interview with the youngest patriarch in history. Gerald Tarrant grinned sardonically. He might look not older that fourty, but he was pushing 1000 now. Still smirking he opened the door to his private rooms. His bed hadn`t looked more inviting to him in ages, it's appeal doubled by the even more inviting smile of cardinal Damien Vryce.
Footnote: Through all my stories that take place after "Crown of Shadows" I will stick to "Gerald", because in my opinion the Christian name is the soul's name, and in my humble opinion the soul is still fairly the same after the final transformatio. The events in those drabbles span approximately fifteen years, starting about two years after the ending of CoS. The thought behind the story line is me wondering what could happen if Tarrant returned to his old love, the Church of Unification. Getting some forged papers shouldn't be a problem, but as a "youth" he obviously can't claim to be a fully educated priest. To bring his creation in line he should be willing enough to grit his teeth and attend the seminary. Oh my God, I'd pay a lot of money to see poor Damien's face! Same goes for drabble three, of course. And no, I don't know if there are cardinals on Erna, but I was way too lazy to invent a religious title myself.