Work Text:
“Where are your parents?” the beautiful little boy asked him again. His hair moved with the wind, the same splendid shade as the tips of bumblebee fur in sunlight. Just as delicate and fine, it was enchanting, beguiling, enthralling.
He was tall, well-formed, and flawless. Skin like the sky quieting into the night; that soft, romantic blush of pink that surrendered into the dark. But his eyes, they drew you right in.
Deep, liquid gold. It seemed that Midas himself had trapped all his power inside the orbs peering out at him. If you were caught in them, you found yourself inexorably walking forward, as though he’d sunk a hook around your sternum and lifted you out of consciousness by your collarbones.
Hector would know; he’d been drawn to the boy from the moment he looked up. Those eyes belonged to a predator and seemed ancient in such a lovely, flawless face. Like all predators, this little boy had times when he would be hunting and times when he would be observing. Right now, he was just watching.
Hector recognized the waiting state because he looked at everything, all the time. He’d come to learn what could be carefully handled, and what would mean death when you turned your back. The beauty and pain of existing meant that there was always something that would dazzle you even as it tried to devour you.
Anything in the natural world was beautiful and wonderful in its forms. It could also be deadly.
“My parents are dead,” Hector told him. Distress filled the beautiful face, the liquid gold somehow darkening like goldfish scales in midnight water. Inexplicably he was sorry. Hector tried not to bring grief to beautiful things that were innocent in their wildness.
“I apologize; I didn’t realize. Forgive me,” the boy said and stepped closer. The aristocratic clothes, the small but fine brooch at his throat, neatly looped ribbons at his wrists and holding his hair--they all suggested vampire nobility. But the sun peeked through his gently pointed ear; rosy, blushing and direct. The boy didn’t seem to notice.
“I am not bothered sir, but thank you,” Hector answered and wondered if he should be concerned. In Lord Dracula’s castle, Hector knew he would be at risk. The vampire lord had told him as much. That is why they thought it best for him to spend the day in the isolated section with the gardens until nightfall, when the journey to his new home could be completed. Vlad Dracula had warded the gardens and forbidden entry for everyone.
Everyone but this child apparently. “If it is not too bold,” the boy asked him, long elegant fingers cupping one of the swaying pink roses in his hand. “What is your name?”
Hector considered. Some vampires and witches needed your name to strengthen glamors and compulsions. Would it be wise to lie? He decided on a half-truth. “Vasilis,” he replied, giving his middle name.
The slow spread of the pale lips was irrationally pleasing to Hector and he felt a tug of kinship to a creature who would consider him prey.
Sometimes the lambs and lions would lay down together. Who could say where friendship would develop. His connection with Lord Tepes certainly fell into that category.
“Vasilis,” the child repeated happily. “How fitting, for you certainly do look like royalty.” He plucked the rose he’d been admiring and offered it to Hector. “It’s my pleasure to meet you Vasilis, my name is Adrian.”
Surprised, Hector took the bloom. The sweet peachy sunlight of the petals offered a gentle fragrance that whispered of summer.
Hector sketched a small bow, and Adrian giggled. The sound was charming, the tinkle of a sunshower on leaves, or the quick dance of a ladybug with a milkweed. It was the happy noise of a child, underscored with an innocent seductiveness that was unstudied. It was likely that Adrian was unaware of it.
It was an inherent survival mechanism of all vampires to be captivating and while Hector recognized it, he could still enjoy it.
When he came out of his bow, Adrian returned it, surprisingly formal even if his face was radiant with amusement. “Look at us, two boys bowing to each other. Father would approve.” His face was earnest. “He always says we must offer respect, even if we are owed it.”
“And who is your father, Adrian?” Hector asked, curious if perhaps he’d heard of him before.
Those golden predator’s eyes slid away and he ran long fingers over the petals of another rose. “He’s part of the court,” the boy said and quickly asked, “How old are you Hector?”
“Ah, I am eleven years old, sir,” Hector said, noting the blonde’s discomfort with speaking about Adrian’s father. He left it alone. Hector understood not wanting to dwell on your parents.
“Oh!” Adrian’s smile returned, wide enough that a small, sharp canine peeked for an instant. “You are older than me, I am eight in two months!” Hector blinked. He’d been sure Adrian was his age or even a little older. He seemed physically mature, but his manner of speaking and the way he carried himself made him appear even decades older.
“You are not a vampire,” Adrian stated. It was not a question and Hector nodded in response. “And you smell human but..” He sniffed delicately. “You have magic!”
“I do too but I’m just learning!” Adrian exclaimed excitedly. “Mama says that I should be patient but I want to know how to do it all right now. After all, it’s not fair for me to have the power but not the skill, right? But my Father says that--!”
He abruptly stopped and a faint flush powdered his pale cheeks. “I apologize, I got carried away.” There was that formal manner coming back. “But,” Adrian looked keenly hopeful, “could you possibly, maybe, tell me about your magic? Please,” he added quickly.
Hector found the little ramble incredibly endearing and it disarmed him more than anything else would. He wasn’t used to other children, but it was almost like Adrian wasn’t either. Maybe they both had the lack of friends in common?
“I don’t understand it entirely myself,” Hector said slowly. “But it’s always been there since, I think, four or five years old? Maybe earlier but no one told me if it was.”
No one in his family ever wanted him to admit that he had magic, or wanted to see what he could do with it. And then there’d been Lord Tepes, who told him that his gift was special, beautiful and valuable; words that no one had ever given to him before.
It was flattering to Hector that this exquisite child might find it interesting about him too. “I can make simple magics,” he said and held up the rose Adrian had given him.
He snapped the stem and Adrian gasped. “Don’t worry!” Hector said hurriedly, afraid that the boy might think him rude or ungrateful. “Just watch.”
He smiled at the faint blue glow starting in his fingertips. Unlike the magic he used on animals, which needed his coins, this was a simply structured thing and he could do it unaided.
Green sap dripped out of the split end, some of which he sprinkled on the petals of the rose. The remaining beads of sap solidified and grew opaque, sealing off like dried wax but eventually fading into nothing. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the wonder and excitement on Adrian’s face. The blue glow around the rose faded and he smiled, passing it back to the boy.
“That was astonishing!” Adrian said happily. “What did you do to it?”
“It will last for months now, maybe years; it’s hard to say,” Hector told him. Adrian looked up in surprise, the wonder and joy like the sun rising in those gold depths.
“May I keep it?” Adrian asked him, the formality rumpling a bit with the exuberant hopefulness in his voice.
“Of course, it was meant as a gift. I would be honored if you would accept it,” Hector said with a small smile.
Adrian’s face softened and he looked down at the rose in his hand. “Thank you Vasilis. This is a beautiful gift. I wish I had something for you,” he said with a sigh.
Hector shrugged and the cornsilk hair of the boy lifted in the breeze. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been given a gift before the rose and didn’t feel the lack of one now. Lord Dracula had given him clothing and was arranging a homestead for him, but he also understood that these were investments in his abilities. While he was infinitely grateful, he was aware that he was accepting lordship, not a gift.
“Would you like to see my magic?” Adrian asked shyly and Hector nodded, curious. Carefully, the boy placed the rose on the stone bench down the path and then motioned Hector out of the way. “I don’t want to hurt you, so please stay to the side!” In response, Hector stepped between a bed of calla lilies and the trunk of a cherry tree.
There was a streak of vermilion and Adrian appeared on the other side of the garden, waving happily. “See?” he called and Hector blinked. It had been so fast he wasn’t sure if Adrian had flown or simply disappeared and reappeared.
“That’s extraordinary!” he said with stark wonder. “Are you flying or…?” Adrian appeared on the other side of the tree, the red blur fading rapidly from around his body.
“No, more like running ridiculously fast!” the boy grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “I can--well, I sort of can--turn into bats; want to see?” He didn’t even wait for a response, just stepped back onto the path and exploded into a swirl of screeching black bats. Hector laughed, he couldn’t help it.
It was extraordinary, and he felt envious. To be able to fly, to become someone, something else, even for a moment…
The bats rose up into the sunlight and artfully tumbled around, a shifting complex dance of movement. Hector watched as they arrowed into a fluid line and streaked down toward him. He felt the gust of their passing and even the brush of wings against his hair. Hector laughed again, a delighted giggle that bubbled up and flew alongside the creatures.
They soared down the path, wheeled and came back toward him. Hector teasingly ducked when they swooped. “You can’t catch me!” he crowed happily and wheeled around the trunk of the tree. Adrian materialized on the other side, a grin so wide that his fangs pressed into his lower lip.
“I bet I could!” he responded with excitement. “I’ll give you a head start!”
Hector took off down the path, heading for the little stone niche with a bench he’d noticed before, when he heard the running footsteps behind him. “Ready or not, here I come!” Adrian called gaily.
Hector dove to the side, creeping stealthily along the moss and thyme to try to muffle his footsteps. He was determined to win this, if only to prolong the game. He didn’t recognize the almost painful joy for what it was; a long-buried dream being fulfilled. Someone wanted to play with him.
“Oh sneaky, Vasilis!” Adrian cried out with glee. “But I will find you!” Hector came to the end of the flowerbed and eyed the path toward the niche. It would expose him for a moment and he decided to go on all fours to stay as low as possible. Nimbly he crept over the stone and onto the riotous vines.
The niche was within sight now and he could see where he might tuck himself in behind the seat. His body would be mostly hidden and if he was still, it might be awhile before Adrian found him.
“Vasilis?” Adrian called and sounded a little worried. “Are you still here?”
Hector debated answering and then heard a triumphant, “ah-ha!” from the next row over. “I see your footprint in the moss! I’ve got you now!” He scrambled toward the niche, unaware that he was euphorically grinning as he carefully climbed over the bench and tried to fit himself behind it. It was a tighter squeeze than he’d thought.
He caught sight of the top of Adrian’s head and panicked, shoving his body recklessly into the space. The rough corner of the stone seat cut into his arm in a long, shallow rip across his bicep. He gasped in pain and immediately hushed, peering through the space between the seat and the wall.
Adrian stood in the path, eyes wide as he took a long, shuddering breath. There was something alarming in the almost jerky movement of his muscles and suddenly his head swivelled unerringly to the niche.
“Vasilis! Are you bleeding?!” he yelped and blurred in a crimson flash. “Are you alright?”
There was a solid thud that shook the niche and Hector realized he’d run into the wall right beside the space. Adrian squealed in pain and dropped into the dirt. Hector tried to leap up to help, but was caught behind the seat, bent awkwardly at the waist.
“Adrian! Are you alright?!” Hector asked urgently and the little boy sniffled.
“I ran into the wall again,” he said mournfully. “It hurts.”
“It looked very solid,” Hector said apologetically. “I’m really sorry it hurts.”
“You must think I am really pathetic,” Adrian whispered as he slowly got to his feet. “A dhampir that runs into walls.”
It didn’t immediately dawn on Hector what that meant, he was too focussed on reassuring the beautiful, now a little scraped up, boy. “Everyone makes mistakes,” he said. “You’re learning; it’s alright. I would probably do it all the time if I had your speed.”
Golden irises glimmered hopefully at him. “You really think that?” he asked and Hector nodded. The little boy smiled tremulously and brushed his hair back from his scraped cheek. As Hector watched the scrape vanished with a little curl of smoke and his face was flawless once more.
“Oh, I wish I could do that with this cut,” Hector said appreciatively. “It stings.”
“That’s right; you are bleeding!” Adrian said anxiously and Hector remembered what the blonde had said.
“You are a dhampir?” he asked curiously as Adrian offered him a hand and gently lifted. Hector winced as his hips popped free and he awkwardly clambered over the stone seat.
“Yes, I am, and oh no, look at your arm!” Adrian clucked unhappily, spreading the ripped fabric to eye the gash.
“It’ll heal, I’m alright,” Hector said, trying to hide his disappointment that the game was over. He wanted to ask Adrian about being a dhampir and wracked his brain for a polite way to frame it.
“We should clean it though,” Adrian insisted. “Mother always says that you need to remove the debris and bacteria from a wound to allow the body to knit properly.”
“Your mother sounds very wise. Is that something she learned recently, or centuries ago?”
“Ah, no, my mother is human. My father is the vampire,” Adrian said, stepping back and looking thoughtful. “There is a small kitchen past the hall and up the stairs. I think I have everything I need to clean you up there. Would you follow me, please?”
Hector followed him down the path and past the tree that they’d played beside. He didn’t see where Adrian was going until he rounded an enormous rose bush dripping with peach colored blossoms peeking blood red hearts.
There, half-hidden in a gentle sway of a willow tree was a gracious arch in dark stone, and a polished set of stairs heading up into shadows dotted with torches.
Hector suddenly remembered Dracula’s warning not to leave the garden and the set of rooms on the other side of it. “Adrian,” Hector started to say and the blonde child ducked past the curtain of green. There was an unexpected stillness in the garden that was only disrupted by the lazy, fat bobbing of a bumblebee onto a dahlia’s weighted bloom.
Uneasy, Hector wondered again how Vlad Dracula’s decree could apply to all the castle but not to this child. What did that mean? Was it foolish to follow him knowing he was essentially prey for this boy? Perhaps Dracula’s decree protected Hector in the garden, but not outside of it. Would leaving mean he was forfeiting the sanctuary?
“Apologies!” a cheerful blonde head popped out of the darkness and grinned at him. “I realized you might not feel safe leaving the sunlight for the dark, but I assure you, no one will bring you harm while you are in my company. You have my word.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but Lord Tepes himself told me not to leave the garden or the adjoining rooms,” Hector said apologetically. He didn’t want to insult Adrian but he also would prefer to maintain whatever small scraps of humanity he had left. He might not be entirely human anymore but he certainly was more human than a vampire.
“He did not know that I would be accompanying you, I assure you,” Adrian said earnestly but he also nodded. “However, you are right to be cautious and I understand that. Give me a minute to gather the necessary items and I will return. A moment, please.”
The long supple branches twitched and the dhampir was gone. It was only a second before Hector started to wonder if Adrian himself wasn’t at risk in the castle. After all, he was half human--surely that would be enough human blood for a vampire to consider him worth attacking. Maybe Adrian was visiting too and wasn’t actually a resident. Maybe his father was here to consult with Dracula and Adrian had been brought along to see the vampire court, got bored and wandered off…
Hector started forward. No cut was worth Adrian potentially mauled or drained on his part! He readied the sole flame spell he knew, which would flare sharply bright for a few seconds before dissipating, and stepped forward resolutely. Past the fresh green of the willow branch and into the dark shadow, he climbed the winding stairway up.
He intended to borrow one of the torches on the wall for light and found it to be a self-contained lantern with a floating flame. Hector opened the lantern and uttered a few words. The flame twirled out to hover over his outstretched hand and he heard Adrian’s voice coming from the hallway above him.
As quickly but quietly as possible, Hector took the stairs to the landing and peered down the hallway. The light wasn’t as dim as he’d been afraid of, but it was still dark. The smell of the garden was strong here and Hector tried to reconcile the rich fabric and old wood with that delicate floral and green scent.
Adrian was talking to a tall, burly man with long pointed ears and deathly pale skin. The man wore livery of burgundy and black, which Hector knew was Lord Tepes’ colors.
“No Michael, I do not wish to return to my quarters yet. I have some business in the garden and then I will make my way back.”
“Your mother was very clear that you were not to leave your quarters so early.” The tall vampire sounded unfriendly and Hector tensed. Would he punish Adrian? “Frankly, I resent being awake when the sun is still out, young Master,” the vampire continued.
Master? Is that a term that all the servants use regardless, or is he actually nobility? Hector wondered.
“Tell my mother that I will be there for breakfast, never fear,” Adrian said firmly and Hector was sure now, Adrian was nobility. He spoke with the calm assurance that his order would be obeyed and the confidence he would not be punished for his impudence.
“If your mother has to come down here to retrieve you, you can be assured that your father will hear of it,” the tall vampire warned and Adrian nodded briskly.
“Father will not be disturbed, believe me,” Adrian assured him and the servant bowed and started down the hall. Once again Hector wondered who his father was. The way Adrian had said, believe me, and the emphasis the servant had put on the potential disclosure to the father, made him think it was someone quite terrifying.
He watched the beautiful golden hair move into the shadows and wondered how someone so sweetly innocent could have a terrifying parent. It was confusing to him. One thing was clear however; Adrian was not in any danger from the castle inhabitants. They clearly knew who he was, and where he was.
It is time for you to return to your sanctuary before someone realizes you are… The speed with which Michael seized him was unlike anything he’d ever encountered before, and Hector’s cry of alarm was silenced by the powerful palm that was wrapped around his neck.
The coppery scent of old blood and something like tanned leather that had been left to mildew, was overpowering as the vampire lifted him off his feet. Terror was a bulb lodged in his throat and exploding roots and leaves in riotous fury. “And who might you be then?” the vampire sneered, drawing him closer to the fangs that spelled out doom.
I didn’t want to die this way, Hector thought. It was something of a surprise to learn he was particular about this. He’d always assumed that he didn’t really care about how he died, so long as it happened. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? There’s a chance that if you die here, you’ll never die again and you don’t want to live forever.
The flame in his hand flared and Hector gasped for the words to his spell. “Put him down!” Adrian said coldly and both predator and prey turned as one to see a blonde child with glowing eyes and an armful of supplies staring at Michael with furious disapproval.
“And why should I?,” the servant asked with a sneer. “He was sneaking around the castle! I suspect your F--.”
“He is my friend and Father would be displeased by your lack of hospitality.” Adrian narrowed his eyes. “You will let him go. Now.”
Michael’s grip lessened and he set Hector on his feet. He did not let go. “Master Adrian, be reasonable. I can’t let him go, he could hurt you, or steal something of value, or--.”
“I will personally be responsible for him. If he was going to hurt me, he would have already. We’ve been playing for the last hour. He was in the garden.”
The servant’s face grew guarded and he released Hector immediately. The boy fell to his knees, gasping. “The garden? The one Lord Tepes forbade all from entering?”
“One and the same.” Adrian’s eyes gleamed in the shadows and his voice was firm. “I think he’d be displeased that you were mistreating his guest, don’t you?”
“I think he’d be displeased to know you didn’t follow his orders,” the vampire retorted and Adrian simply smiled.
“Then this never happened, did it? Come on Vasilis, let’s go back now.” Adrian neatly stepped past the servant, took Hector’s hand, and started down the stairs.
Hector’s throat still hurt, but his hand was tingling where the dhamipr held it. Adrian’s skin was soft, warm, and so smooth. He was ashamed to have his calloused, rough palms on his. But he simply followed, marvelling at the grace and beauty of the blonde.
“I’m so sorry he hurt you,” Adrian said once they had descended the flight of stairs. Hector shook his head. “No, truly.” Adrian insisted. “I told you I would keep you safe and I failed.”
“It’s not your fault,” Hector croaked out. “I followed you.” He gulped, trying to avoid coughing. “You weren’t escorting me.”
They reached the green safety of the garden and stepped through the arch. “About that.” Adrian turned to him, pausing. “Why did you choose to follow me?”
That wasn’t an easy thing to answer and Hector suddenly felt shy. He looked at the vibrant rosebush and mumbled. “I was afraid you’d get hurt.”
Adrian used his hand to guide him to a stone bench and placed the supplies on the surface. When his other hand was free, he put it on Hector’s shoulder. One hand on his shoulder and the other entwined with his, Adrian looked at him.
“That is the most selfless thing anyone has ever done for me,” he said simply. “Thank you.” He gently let Hector’s hand go and set about cleaning his wound. Hector curled his hand up into a loose fist, trying to mimic the sensation of the boy’s hand holding his. It wasn’t the same and he stifled his sigh.
“I’m sorry,” Adrian said quietly. “I know it must sting.”
Hector shook his head. “No, I was just thinking about how, um, how nice it was of you to defend me.” He turned, looking at the golden hair in the bright sun. It was funny how he’d smelled Michael right away, but he couldn’t really smell Adrian. Maybe the garden was too strong? Or maybe he didn’t have a scent?
“Of course!” The boy was empathetic as he gently wrapped the cloth around Hector’s bicep. “You are my guest and my friend. Michael should not have been so quick to attack.” He frowned. “If we had not agreed not to discuss it with Father, I would think he’d like to know.”
“May I ask, who is your--?” Hector started to ask and Adrian sprang up.
“All done!” he cried. “I’ll just put these supplies back and return. Stay put please!” In a crimson flash, he was gone.
He really doesn’t want to discuss his father, Hector thought and resolved to just leave it alone. After all, it really didn’t matter. He was doing what Lord Tepes told him to do and staying within the boundaries he’d been told to. The blonde was obviously not going to tell anyone Adrian had been here, so there wasn’t any trouble to get into in this scenario.
He stood up and looked at his bandaged arm. It was neatly bound, with a small little bow. Charmed, he touched it and smiled. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” came Adrian’s anxious voice and Hector looked up.
“No, not at all,” he said honestly.
“Oh good!” Adrian said relieved. He held up a book. “I took the liberty of grabbing something I thought you might like. It’s a book of night-tales. I enjoy them and thought you might too?”
Hector’s heart sank. Adrian wasn’t going to play with him anymore? “Oh,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. “That’s very kind of you, thank you.”
“We don’t have to read them!” Adrian cried, clearly anxious. “I just thought you might enjoy a bit of a rest after what happened with Michael. I could find something else to read to you, or we could play some Noddy, or--”
“Wait, you were going to read to me?” Hector asked, eyes wide and a grin creeping across his face.
“Well, yes,” Adrian said seriously. “I think you should rest your throat after that confrontation.” His face fell. “Oh, um, unless you would like to be alone? That is understandable aft--.”
“No! No, please, stay!” Hector said swiftly and then felt a little embarrassed about how demanding it sounded. “I would love to be read to, really. Night-tales sound simply perfect.”
Adrian’s grin was enormous and he nodded. “Let me get a blanket and some pillows. We can sit under the cherry tree.”
They constructed a little picnic space under the pink blossoms, a woven throw across the moss, velvet cushions from the sitting room and some grapes with crusty loaves of bread and crumbling cheese that Hector had been left with for his meals. There was a pitcher of cold water and two mugs that they used to toast their food with.
What started as two boys sitting across from each other and eating quickly became Adrian lounging against a pile of pillows while Hector lay on his belly beside him, listening intently to the scary, beautiful and fascinating stories.
Adrian’s voice was a chorus of unbridled beauty, the notes of his voice soothing and intriguing and mysterious all at once. It was perfectly suited for this collection of tales. Twice they broke for food and the second time for a small walk, before Hector excused himself for the commode. He rushed through washing his hands as quickly as possible, afraid that Adrian might have gotten bored of his company.
The little boy was patiently waiting, watching the sky on his back. Hector joined him there and they talked about the shapes of the clouds. Adrian explained that they were actually made of water vapour and Hector was fascinated. It was around this time that Adrian started yawning and Hector remembered that this was actually the time that Adrian would normally be sleeping.
“I think I might take a nap,” he said casually.
“Oh, really?” Adrian asked, golden eyes wide. “Are you tired?”
“A little bit,” Hector said. “Would you be alright to take a nap too, if we are under the tree but still in the sunshine?”
Adrian smiled, the tip of his fang peeking. “Should I read you to sleep?”
Hector hesitated, debating, and finally said it. “You’ll stay though, right?”
“I can stay for a while longer, yes.” He looked at the sky. “I have a couple more hours before breakfast.”
That’s right, he has to be back so his mother doesn’t get angry, Hector remembered. And his father doesn’t find out. They would definitely find out if Adrian fell asleep in the middle of breakfast.
“Let’s take a nap,” Hector said agreeably and settled back down beside Adrian, pulling a pillow up and turning toward the beautiful boy. Adrian started to read and Hector closed his eyes. In the moments just before he drifted to sleep, he realized that the reason he couldn't smell Adrian was because he smelled like green things. A dhampir who smells like spring, he thought with wonder and slipped into dreams.
“Hector,” came the deep, dark voice and the cool pressure of a large hand on his shoulder. With a start, Hector sat up. Long shadows had stolen the charm of the garden and made it a pocket of mysterious quiet, waiting in a cluster of scent and shape. Night was falling.
Adrian! he thought and looked over to where the boy had been. There was no pillow or glass, or even the book. The blanket was unrumpled and neatly straightened. Did I dream him? he wondered, confused.
“Hector, are you alright?” Lord Tepes asked him, standing back up.
“Yes. I’m sorry my Lord, I am just waking up. I slept longer than I intended.” With a deep sense of disappointment that chased yearning at a hard pace, he slowly got to his feet and bowed.
“Of course. I am glad you were able to rest.” The dark, intense eyes of his master dropped to his arm. “You were hurt, I see.”
Hector froze. Giddy awareness and hope burst, like a chickadee from its nest, and he looked down at his arm. There was the neat bandage with its pretty bow.
He’s real, he thought. My friend is real! The joy of it caught his breath and he simply nodded, bringing his hand up to touch the simple bandage.
“It’s a good bandage,” Lord Tepes said. “And the wound smells clean. I trust no one injured you.”
“No sir,” he whispered. “It was just an accident.”
“Good,” said the vampire. “We need to be going. The journey will take much of the evening and I would have you settled before I must return.”
“Of course sir,” he said. “Let me just get my rucksack.” Hector went down the path into the side room that he’d been given. On the bed his worn brown sack sat, waiting.
Beside it was the book of night-tales.
“Adrian,” he whispered and felt like crying. He picked up the book and opened the first page. There was a tiny peach rose bud pressed between its pages and something written. He couldn’t read it. Hector couldn’t read.
It was obviously a gift. Reverently, he placed the book in his sack and went out to join Lord Tepes.
Many months would go by when he would trace the spidery script with his fingers, and dream of the day he could read what Adrian had written. While he waited for that ability, he would bring the pressed flower to his nose and sniff, thinking of a beautiful blonde boy whose laugh sounded like all the joy in the world captured in a sound and who smelled like springtime.
The day he could sound out the words was one filled with tremendous meaning for him. Hector smiled and he whispered to himself:
“Your friend, Adrian.”
---
"Koad," Yann Tiersen
