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It took an awful lot of work to keep a clan of vampires safe and well-fed. Bone-weary work, thankless work sustained - just barely - by the eldest (sans one) remnants of the Amaurotines. The Fourteen had divided tasks equally according to their ability; those who would best keep the law of the clan, those who were best at keeping the peace, those who were best at finding food, finding safety, finding the next place to hide away at; history keeping - so that they would never forget - all these tasks fell in the Convocation’s purview. The arms of the Amaurotines spread across the width of the old continent, one could trace the paths they’d walk - would walk again - and the myriad of hide-outs and mansions under ill-gotten names as if the map of them were tiny veins. It was reassuring that, to know if he failed in his duty that there would be safe-guards, that even should a horde of self-righteous jurors with torches and ‘stakes’ came upon them - they could retreat, regroup. But of course, that would require him failing. Which he wouldn’t.
Emet-Selch poured over the same letter that he had been trying to decipher for the better part of the last day. The lawyer who sent it had truly atrocious hand-writing, all twirls and double-backing loops. At some points, it seemed he had written over what he had originally wrote, muddling both letters and meaning until it was near-impossible. If it hadn’t been… urgent to transfer this manor into the care of one of their own before the end of frost revealed what had happened to the lordling owner then he would have given it up as a lost cause.
But no. Some fledgling had to get over-confident in his own self-control and kill their generous - even before being enthralled - host. If Lahabrea hadn’t been so lucky as to grow the ability to conjure illusions, they would’ve likely been run out before the first snow fell. Before they had even settled in, the villagers below the manor’s hill viewed the group with consternation and distrust. Trust could be earned later - that could be postponed so long as they acquired this structure to the letter of the law in such a way that did not raise too much suspicion. It was getting late, the fire beginning to flicker out, the soft crackling of the embers lulling the world to tranquility. Hades smiled faintly, these were the peaceful moments he worked for, worked so his comrades could share in. And then, of course, the door slammed open.
“Guess who's back!” The chipper voice rang out, without a care that there were those still worked despite the growing hour. Hades turned in his chair, his smile seemed more like a grimace to the two returning. Any peace of the last few weeks was surely about to go out the window and burn up in the daylight. That… did not mean he was not relieved to see them - not that he would ever say such a thing.
“Azem, Hythlodaeus.” Emet-Selch stood to greet them, out of courtesy. “I trust your travels fared well enough? You certainly seem… fit.” There was a hesitancy as he stared at Azem’s soul, before shaking his head.
Hythlodaeus hummed in greeting, “As well as they usually do, my friend. Though, the road took us longer than usual. A few of our resting stops were… let’s say compromised. Ah, the poor fools did not stand much a chance against our dear Azem. But we could hardly rest there after the fact. Both for safety’s sake and the smell.”
Azem sniffed, “If they’d at least stopped to talk, we could have divined how much they knew about those buildings. They’re in such disrepair I wouldn’t be surprised if one or two had been innocents seeking shelter from the elements, thinking the barn’s owners would not notice or care..” They shook their head of so dreary a notion, “Anyhow, we’re back now! Very little to report other than that, I shall surely be heading out again soon to make sure those compromised stay clear. Though… while I’m here, do you require any assistance, Oh dear Emet-Selch?”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t hear of it. I do not need assistance right now and I certainly don’t need one from some one so…” Hades struggled to find the correct wording, faltering and changing pace for the next second. He felt… slow. “As you said, you were traveling for weeks. Go crawl in a coffin before exhaustion takes you completely.”
“What do you mean I need rest? Exhausted, please! I’m an energy machine. You, on the other hand… Hades, I’m quite sure you hadn’t moved an inch until we came back.!” Azem crossed their arms, eyebrows raising slightly. “Go on, tell me, how much have you slept in the last two weeks.”
Emet-Selch’s glare hardened, “I do not need to explain nor justify myself to you, weary wanderer. You’re not yourself when you’ve been… deprived of either your sleep or your senses. And it appears you’ve lost both, hm? Now, now, run along. Your journey was long, was it not?”
Hythlodaeus turned the pages on Emet-Selch’s desk towards himself, skimming the letter with a focused brow. “Hades, in idle curiosity, how many of these have you gotten through in the last oh, let’s say, last sunrise?”
“That- does not concern you, Hythlodaeus and that would be Convocation business regardless. If you were so inclined to know, then perhaps you might have considered taking up the mantle before rejecting it.”
“Oh, you know I wouldn’t have been any good at it. Too much fuss, so very little fun. Besides, I would’ve been depriving our clan of a most eminent alternative. How could I ever live with myself?” Hythlodaeus tilted his head, a small slightly sad smile crossing his features.
“Hey, you stop that. You would have done just as well if you had set your mind to it. Though, I am thankful you turned it down, my adventures are much better with a companion by my side!” Azem clasped a hand onto Hythlodaeus’ arm then turned to Hades with a stern expression, “I think I know why you’re so grumpy all the time, Emet-Selch. After all,” They put their index finger up as they quoted one of their far-flung friends “Your future depends upon your dreams - so then you must sleep, sleep often and well, so that they may find you readily. ”
Emet-Selch looked down at the page and then back up at Azem, “Oh and you’re one to talk. You haven’t rested in weeks! Your soul is so dull, it’s a wonder you still hold onto it. Your words of wisdom ring awfully hollow if you do not deign to follow them yourself.”
“Well, resting is -- it’s not my favorite activity, now is it, Hythlo?” Azem shrugged with a pointed look. “But I certainly remember a special someone extolling its virtues.”
“No, never, I’ve watched you drop from exhaustion often enough to have realized that.” Hythlodaeus clapped his hands, “So, it is apparent that you both need rest, how about that? Chip chop, to bed the both of you!”
Emet-Selch groaned, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the both of them wore him down. As they always did. “Not you too. The two of you are going to give me a migraine.”
“You haven’t drunk enough blood lately to have one of those.” Azem stuck out their tongue, a low and childish taunt but one that made Hades’ brow furrow even deeper. No wonder he had aged so when it seemed none the rest did. They continued at this, going back and forth - a banter they had all missed dearly when distance had stretched long. But it was not a topic that would be dropped so easily, the concern for a friend, an unstoppable force met with Emet’s dedication, an immovable object.
Ever-watchful Elidibus spoke then, appearing beside Azem with quiet step and voice flat, “It would appear that you all need rest. Get to bed and then hunt as soon as you wake, before you get so weakened we must send someone to hunt for you three.” Firm, with very little room to argue. When had he learned such a quality, as important as it was to his role? He returned to the shelves that had hidden his presence from those without soul sight; namely Azem, who jumped near out of their skin.
They sniffed, hand covering their heart, “Well, how can I go to bed now that I’ve been scared half-to-death?”
“If your soul is half-way gone, then it should be all the easier to get to sleep, yes?” Hythlodaeus pulled at his friends’ arms, “Come, neither one of your grand plans will come to fruition now and if they did, I dare say you wouldn’t be able to properly enjoy the fruits of your labor. And it wouldn’t do for the Emissary to have grounds to censure us, I’m sure it’d near break his heart.”
“What rot. Unlike some people, I don’t do my duties for mere enjoyment but because they must needs be done and none other can be trusted with them.” Emet-Selch rolled his eyes, but the thought that perhaps the incomprehensibility of the letter he had been trying to make head of was from himself, and not the writer, sombered him. “Fine, fine. I would not be able to get any more work with you two requiring constant attention anyhow.”
“Oh, please, you like feeling needed.” Azem teased, before looking at Hythlodaeus, a quiet hope in their eyes. After all, they could not forget how often their friend had neglected himself in favor of making sure they did not. “You’ll get rest too?”
Hythlodaeus smiled gently, fangs just barely showing, “If that is what it takes to keep you two hale and healthy, then yes. I suppose I can make that sacrifice.” He turned to lead the two out of the room before a loud snore stopped the three of th em in their tracks. Nestled in the corner, so as to not suffer distractions from his unruly friends, Lahabrea’s desk was shrouded in shadow and none of them had noticed that he remained hunched over his stack of papers and news clippings to sort through. The man was utterly passed out, shoulders rising and falling with the reflex of breathing - despite it long since not being needed.
“Lahabrea-” Emet-Selch’s consternation was quickly hushed by Azem, who laughed quietly under an inhale as they shook their head.
“Let us get some rest… after we have hauled him to bed as well.” They danced across the floor, looking to the other two for help as they weakly pulled at an arm. They could have pulled him up by their lonesome, but that would risk waking him and Azem would not risk calling down the disappointment of the emissary if they did. Besides, for all their talk, their strength was failing them.
“I swear, compared to him, we’re practically freeloaders.” Hythlodaeus mumbled, as he swung Lahabrea’s arm over his shoulder. They carried him to the room they had squirreled away for themselves, with a bed befitting the… former lord of the manor and shades so thick that they hid the shadows inside from the incursion of daylight. The perfect nest. A coffin outfitted with the softest of blankets laid in the corner - Azem with their flair for dramatics had insisted on it for nights when close quarters grew bothersome for Hades. Lahabrea was laid as gently as possible into it, blond hair splaying over the coffin’s edge. So exhausted was he, he did not stir at the jostling. For all the three had sworn to the high (un)holy that they weren’t tired, it seemed their souls left them as soon as they hit the bed, curling up immediately against each other with the ease of a still breath. For a long few minutes, the only sound was the slow … slow… slow… beat of the vampire’s hearts and the rustling of leaves outside.
“Azem..?”
“...Hades?” Azem cracked open an eye, barely able to make out their friend’s form for the bleariness. Their voice was a whisper, husked from exhaustion. “You better not still be working on all these mundane legalities in bed.”
There was a heavy sigh, “While I do not appreciate being told how best to do my job, and make no mistake choosing when the work can be put aside is a part of it… and while you are an ever present thorn in my side, I am glad to see you returned safely.”
“Heh, it almost sounded like you missed me… sleep well, Hades. You’re very welcome for dragging you to bed..” With that, their head fell back onto the pillow and they slipped into a dreamful slumber. Dreaming well of their next adventure, and how they could possibly cajole Emet-Selch into joining the duo on their travels at last.