Work Text:
“Mikaela, today’s a special day.”
He looked up from his seat, sapphire meeting dark red eyes. He waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. He decided not to pry, knowing she would continue on her own. Three years with her, the killer Queen, had made him acquainted with her. It was a horrible feeling, being on semi-friendly terms with his killer jailer saviour Sire, and he hated that he couldn’t hate her. She was his Sire though, his mother, and it was her venom that flowed through his veins. He couldn’t ever hate her or hurt her and he hated could never forgive her for that. He was her faithful dog ‘til kingdom come – maybe even longer, he thought bitterly.
Her voice filled the room once more and he pushed his thoughts away to listen.
“I hadn’t even noticed, time flies by so quickly, but it is my birthday.”
He was surprised. Three years and she never mentioned this before. He paused – well, as vampires, no one celebrated birthdays, or even cared about them. What was the point if they were immortal? He supposed three years wasn’t a long time to beings who lived so long.
He spoke softly, “Happy Birthday then, Krul.” He hated that he was sincere.
She barked out a laugh, eyes closing for a moment. She smiled humourlessly but nonetheless said, “Thank you, Mikaela.”
There was a pause and he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to fill it. Nevertheless, he asked curiously, “Is there anything you would like?”
She hummed to herself before sitting up properly. She reached an arm out. “Would you come here for a moment?”
Without hesitation or reluctance – god he disgusted himself – he stood from his seat, moving to kneel by Krul’s feet.
She patted her lap once and he looked at her questioningly.
“May I play with your hair?” she asked quietly.
He was confused. She had done so before, but she had never asked for permission. There was no point, as the answer would always be yes. She was his master, he her slave.
“I would like an honest answer, Mikaela. If you say no, I will not be offended.”
That confused him even more. He locked gazes with her, trying to read the emotions she was trying to lock away. She wanted an honest answer however, so he paused to think. Since she was his Sire, he would do it if she commanded. But she had asked for honesty, so honesty he would give.
“May I ask why?” He quickly added, “If that is all right.”
Krul didn’t answer for a long moment. She didn’t break eye contact with him, but she was not focused on him either. He could wait, it didn’t matter much to him.
“It’s a family tradition,” she finally answered. Her eyes betrayed her, she looked so sad. Her expression flickered, before returning back to her usual meaningless smile. “I would—“ she let out a breath, glancing above as if searching for strength or hope or something he couldn’t even dare to understand. “I would play with my brother’s hair – his beautiful, beautiful hair. He was — is my twin and on our birthday he’d allow me to play with his hair, said it was his gift to me since I loved his hair so much.” Her voice was near incomprehensible near the end as she whispered, “Vampires should not hold onto such human sentimentality.” It sounded as if she was berating herself, but Mika knew that could also be applied to him.
He didn’t know Krul had a brother. He didn’t ask where he was, it was obvious it was a sore subject. Dead, he would presume. He always forgets that vampires used to have families too. This was the most human he had ever seen Krul be. As if he could say no now.
“Family is important,” he said quietly, moving to place his head in her lap.
“It is,” she agreed, tenderly tangling her fingers into his blond locks.
They stayed like that for a long time. The only interruption was when they moved so it was more comfortable, Krul sitting on the floor with Mika’s head in her lap. He didn’t look at her expression, fearing it may make him want to hate her less.
Family tradition, huh? He was irritated she had considered him family. He was happy she had considered him family. He didn’t know how to feel at all, his emotions mixing and churning, and all he knew was that he didn’t hate her. He wanted to scream, “Family is supposed to be warm and nice and kind and nothing like this!” But he didn’t. He realized that family could also mean wanting to protect each other ‘til kingdom come. Ironic, he thought, that Krul would possibly never reach the afterlife. It caused a pang in his heart, thinking of her dying.
Eventually, Krul spoke once more, “We would drink each others' blood on our birthday.”
He stiffened. Then, he felt her kiss the top of his head.
“I am not expecting that, Mikaela,” she said and he knew she was telling the truth. “I am sorry if you feel like you have to do that. I promise, I would not force you to share your blood with me.”
Why can’t she be mean?
“I want to share blood,” he said and he meant it, he really did. “Just for today,” he tacked on.
He was afraid he had offended her when she didn’t say anything. Then, she pressed another kiss to the top of his head.
They got wine glasses. Krul was graceful in her movements, being used to giving blood to Mika by now. After she filled a glass, she glanced at Mika with an unreadable expression. He was holding the empty wine glass in his hand tightly.
She softened. It wasn’t fair – make me hate you please.
“Mikaela, you don’t have to do this. I can get blood from other sources.”
He shook his head. He wanted to do it for her, even if she didn’t deserve it, even if she didn’t deserve his kindness.
He quickly made a cut, letting his blood fill the wine glass in his hand. Krul was watching him but he didn’t look at her.
After he finished, they handed the other their glass.
“Happy birthday, Krul,” he repeated.
She said something in a different language, something ancient, something he couldn’t understand. He supposed it was something she wanted private.
Krul held her glass filled with blood, raising it above her head.
“’Til kingdom come,” she spoke, irony in her tone.
Mika lifted his glass filled with the Queen’s blood.
“’Til kingdom come.”