"Larten, it's been a week. Please eat." Arra looked concerned, as she had been looking for days, an unusual look for her considering her usual belittling of both of her male friends. Gavner sat next to her, slurping his Bat Broth (quieter than usual), and also concernedly at his friend. Larten was subdued, stirring his soup with a long handled spoon, even his scar seemed droopy.
"He shouldn't be dead." Days ago, Vincent Price failed his trials, a fate that could have easily have befallen any of the three of them, and was executed for it, Larten the only non-official member in attendance. Not half-an-hour after his failure, he was dropped on the stakes, screaming as they hit him, but died quickly. Larten had watched, a horrible knot twisting itself into his stomach that neither of his friends could understand.
They didn't question, not like he did. They didn't dream, not as he did. They didn't think like he did, and he was sure, didn't feel. They wanted to be Generals, to live by the Vampire Codes and aspire to become history, to be brilliant and the best. Larten know knew he only wanted one of those things, to be a General. Princes listened to Generals; Generals could change things. Newly-blooded Larten Crepsley could never do that.
He picked up his spoon, the smallest amount of liquid quagulating on the spoon and forced it down his throat, so that Arra would leave him alone. "You can't save him, Larten. He died like a true vampire, a warrior. He's in Paradise know."
"He shouldn't be dead." Larten repeated quietly, pushing his bowl of soup towards Gavner, who flashed a guilty look at Arra before reaching for it. She beat him to it, shoving it back towards Larten.
"If you don't eat something, you'll be dead to Larten Crepsley, and if you think that that is going to happen, you're sadly mistaken." He met her glare. "Drink the damn soup."
He took another spoonful, drinking it slowly, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. They were frustrated but full of an understanding he didn't know she had. Sadness, marred with the tiniest hint of anger that he knew was not directed at him. A connection that he knew she saw too.
And in that moment he realized that he wasn't the only one who disagreed, nor was he the only who could fight. Even Gavner, who was now watching the silent exchange between the two of them with an uncommon seriousness, could fight against this. They had power. They had strength.
Or at least, they thought they did.
(A/N) Yeah, so I've been so neglecting the fandom, so here's a totally random one-shot for it. Hope you enjoyed, I shall try my best to write more for you people. Companion to "The Pain of Casualty" aslo written by your truly. R and R
And in honor of what today is, at least if you're American, always remember those who died, and those who lost. If you lost anyone, I'm truly sorry.