Tomorrow's Shadow - Part II - Transitions

by Marcus Kruger

  ~ Weathering the Tumult ~

  The storm whipped over the land, tossing waves against the jetty's cliff face as if Poseidon himself were trying to dismantle the island back into the sea. Further from the sliver of land, above the cove, Stefano opened the balcony doors to better see lightning chase raindrops to the ground. Tempest-tossed twigs and leaves from surrounding bushes and trees swirled in the wind performing their own intimate dance of chaos. Stefano watched the sea pummel the distant finger of land then turned his attention to the clouds swirling overhead. In the severe intensity of the deluge he somehow found peace, gradually healing from his emotional upheaval three evenings past. I am fortunate Sire was not here to see my breakdown. I have caused him enough grief. He sighed, losing himself in the violent chaos outside until he felt Gerik’s hands slide around his waist and pull him backward.

  “It is odd to have the doors open during a storm.”

  Stefano rested back against Gerik’s chest. “Indeed. Normally storms come in from the sea to the mainland, thrashing the doors as they pass. This one is moving across the land to the water, very unusual. But it affords us a grand view of the storm’s majesty and power.”

  “The wind howls as a banshee on moonlit waters.” He slid a hand up under Stefano’s tunic, running his fingertips lightly over the other man’s abdomen to his pecs; finally centering on a nipple. “It is good to be safely tucked away in our own fortress of wood and stone.”

  Stefano released a low moan. “Careful, pet. You will wake the dragon if you keep that up.”

  Gerik laid his cheek against Stefano’s shoulder as he moved his hand down, slipping fingers under the waistband of his sire’s trousers. “If I wanted to wake the dragon, I would just tug on his leash.”

  Stefano’s abs instinctively drew in, allowing easier access below his belt. “Hush now, he’s already stirring.”

  Gerik slipped his hand into a net of dark curls before the men were jolted from their growing desire by a solid, loud cough. Gerik withdrew his hands as he and his lover turned around to the waiting manservant.

  “Gentlemen. Might I have a word with ye both?”

  Gerik leaned toward Stefano and whispered, “I could come to hate that question.”

  Stefano bit back a laugh as they crossed the room to stand at the bar, Stefano in the lead. “Of course, Viktor. Is there a problem with preparations for Father’s ceremony?”

  “No, m’Lord, yet there is a matter that needs attended to at first convenience. I am sorry if I have intruded on a tender moment.” He shot Gerik a look that was anything but repentant.

  Stefano nodded. “Pour us each a glass of house wyne, then continue, please.”

  “Yes, m’Lord.” Viktor filled two glasses of the bloodwyne and set one in front of each kindred. He left the bottle on the bar for ease of refills. “Daruka has tendered her resignation as third cook.”

  Behind Stefano, Gerik rolled his eyes as master of the keep replied. “Indeed?  Did she give a cause for her decision?”

  “She feels stifled here and that she can never advance. She claims the second and first cooks are derogatory towards her.”

  “That does not sound like either Prospera or Fayon.”

  “No, m’Lord, but it does mean you need to deal with Daruka afore she leaves Haven.”

  “Agreed. Thank you for letting me know. Advise Daruka that I wish to bid her farewell before she departs.”

  “Yes, m’Lord. That is all I require, except to tell you preparations for the Rite of Passage are proceeding on schedule. Thank you, m’Lord Stefano.” He paused briefly. “And ye also, m’Lord Gerik.”

  Gerik smirked. “Nice of you to include me, Viktor.”

  Viktor arched a brow. “Of course, m’Lord. Ye are in the room; it is only proper.”

  Gerik stepped away from the bar, raising his voice slightly. “Proper?  What do you care of proper?  If Stefano hadn’t been here you would have simply ignored me.”

  Stefano glanced between the two men but remained silent for the time being.

  “I would never and have never ignored ye.”

  “Oh Fates. A couple eves prior to Lord Vargon’s visit I asked you a question and you walked into the kitchen, disregarding me completely.”

  “As I said to ye when ye first mentioned this, it was not my intention to do so. My mind was set on Lord Vargon and his visit.”

  “That’s why you were speaking poorly of me when you left the room?”

  “If I were speaking, I imagine it would have been regarding said visit. Certainly nothing against you.”

  “You truly expect us to believe that?”

  Viktor clenched his left hand but left his arm relaxed at his side. “What you believe is your matter, I suppose, Lord Gerik. I am sorry if you were slighted, I most certainly did not realize.” He slowly released the tension in his hand.

  Gerik grabbed the bottle from the bar and threw it at the cupboard of drinking glasses and mugs. Stemware shattered in a shower of shards. Shelves broke and dropped the remaining glasses to the floor. Bloodwyne rained down, staining wall and floor. “I am becoming tired of…”

  “Enough!”  Thunder rumbled through the great room.

  Both men turned to Stefano. Surprise registered on Viktor’s face, recognizing the word and the delivery to be as if Lord Vargon were speaking.

  “By the Fates you two are acting like school boys fighting over who gets the ball.”

  “Sire, I don’t think…”

  “M’Lord Stefano, I highly doubt…”

  Stefano held up his hand as both men started to respond at the same time. “I should make the two of you kiss and settle your differences.” Viktor and Gerik looked like he had asked them to bite the head off of a serpent. “Would you men please relax?  I was trying to alleviate some of the tension with humor. I can see that is not going to work.” He shook his head. “I am suddenly becoming uncomfortably aware of how Sire has felt at times. Viktor, thank you for telling me about Daruka’s decision to leave. And thank you for the dedication toward the upcoming ceremony. You are released to go back to your daily routine.”

  “Thank ye, m’Lord.” Viktor walked stiffly into the kitchens.

  “Gah, thank you for getting him to leave.”

  Stefano put his index finger on Gerik’s lips, silencing him. “You I am most displeased with. You know better than involve yourself in an argument with staff. I am positive Lord Falow did not let you speak that way to his servants.”

  Gerik looked at the floor. “No, you are right. I should know better.” He raised his eyes. “It’s just that he is constantly…”

  Again Stefano cut him off, laying his finger again against the man’s lips. “Let it go. When you have calmed to the place where we can speak of this without emotion, then I will hear what you have to tell me.” He replaced his finger with his lips, pressing ardently and moving to hold Gerik close. “If I remember correctly, we were speaking about a certain dragon…”

  Gerik captured his sire’s lips, their tongues dancing feverishly. His hand slid down Stefano’s chest, over his abs, to his trousers. His fingers curled over the firm bulge pressed against the fabric. “Mmm. Let’s go upstairs before Vi…” He stopped himself. “We should go upstairs.”

  - - - - -

  Locked in the safe confines of his room, Viktor sat in meditation, working on releasing the thought train that kept him in an anger loop. I do not act like a child. Gerik is obnoxious and rude. Did I truly ignore him on purpose? Was I so woven into Lord Vargon’s issues that I ignored my primary responsibilities here?  Candles burned down slowly, almost to going out before he finally opened his eyes. His normal calm and peaceful demeanor radiated throughout his room. He chuckled remembering Stefano's commanding voice. Not yet through the ceremony, yet already he speaks as a Prince.