Chapter Two

“Densunus, sir?” the black-haired man asked, looking up from the stack of papers on his desk. He seemed a typical vampire, with long black curls and pointed fangs and an irrepressible sense of elegance and beauty.

Personally, Densunus thought him laughable. Especially that black top hat of his—what was that little white thing on it, anyway? It looked like a little dead fish. Hell, Densunus wouldn’t put it past him to decorate his clothes with fish, but really, it seemed rather unsanitary and—

“Your highness?” the man asked, more insistently this time.

Densunus huffed, adjusting the jeweled crown on his head. “What is it now, Armel?”

“Well, it says here that you want me to infiltrate mage territory…”

“And?”

“Well, what part of it, sir? Elephas or Grandiore or Milseth or…”

“I don’t know—pick one!”

“Pick one?” he repeated.

“Yes! Pick! Whichever you’d like!”

“Well, personally I’d prefer Paris…” Armel murmured.

“No! Not Paris! Paris is just one big distraction! Somewhere here. Somewhere uninteresting.”

“Close by and boring?” the vampire repeated dully.

“Yes, here and uninteresting.”

“I suppose it’ll be Elephas, then… lots of drunks there to get information from. Also very boring. So I suppose I’ll see if there are any government officials lurking about?”

“Sure, sure—just go,” Densunus muttered tiredly.

“You know, sir… if you know Cicero so well, why don’t you just call him up and ask him what he’s going to be doing this Saturday night instead of making me lurk around, spying on his friends for information…” he asked cheekily.

Densunus growled, massaging his temples. “Go before I throw something at you, Armel.”

“Yes, sir!” Armel declared, saluting. Densunus stared at the back of his hat as he left before slumping in his chair.

“Eurgh…” That man was always underfoot and always suggesting ludicrous things. He’d shown up at the castle almost a year ago and Densunus had given him a job, but he ended up immediately regretting it. Armel was easily the most annoying man Densunus had ever met, even counting that whiny, annoying fourth cousin of his who lived on the third floor.

Unfortunately, Armel had his redeeming qualities—he was excellent at getting intelligence. He seemed to have contacts everywhere, especially within mage territory. And he knew the best places to be to hear the right things at the right times and it grated on the king’s nerves so badly that Armel was so good at finding things out because if he sucked, then he could get rid of him!

And besides, just seeing Armel made his head hurt and feeling the man’s presence within the castle made his stomach twist into knots. On top of that, the vision in his left eye got so blurry and sometimes he could only see red, a thick wall of red … he didn’t know why, but he couldn’t write it off as being caused by something else. Armel was the only explanation, because five minutes after he’d issued the order, all the pain subsided and he felt in a better mood than ever.

But unfortunately, there were bigger problems in the world than even Armel. He was annoying as hell, but at least he didn’t have an army too.

Cicero… damn him. Densunus didn’t want to believe it, that his old friend, the soft-eyed mage he’d teased and confided in and spent so many holidays with had… had splattered his parents’ blood on the walls. That one over there, Densunus remembered, although the blood had been cleaned long ago and only a rosy outline remained.

And then his brother, too… That man had killed his brother, the person who was supposed to be his best friend in the world, the one he cared about the most, the one he’d spent so much time and energy protecting… the one he’d…

…The one everyone had loved.

He’d never forget that smile.

Dammit, his eyes hurt again.

(m)(o)(u)

His every move was powerful, his steps self-assured, his nose in the air, top hat nearly brushing the ceiling. Even with most of his power gone, he retained his air of importance. After all, nobody would mess with someone who looked strong, whether they were a threat or not. No matter where he went, he got noticed. He certainly didn’t mind—he loved the attention.

“Well, guess who was a lucky little duckie? Ha ha. Me. Me. Go me. Ahem. So, who do I happen to find in the first bar I go into? The mage king himself! And frankly, he looks and sounds a little drunk… eyes unfocused, slumping in his chair, tears in his eyes, and drivel spilling out of his mouth.”

Although, really, it wasn’t all that surprising—after all, it was Saturday night, and Cicero had a routine… although perhaps it was a bit altered, because his servant was beside him, the pale blue-haired boy who was rarely seen out of Cicero’s presence. He didn’t drink, but he was tugging gently on Cicero’s sleeve. Probably trying to get him to see sense and return home, but it was well-known that Cicero didn’t leave until the bar closed. Not on Saturday nights.

“Come on, Cicero, you know I can’t carry you if you pass out… why don’t we go back now, hmm?” the servant tried, smiling pleasantly at the king.

“Maybeh youuuuuuu should go home-uh, Mak-kur-ra.”

“Please behave, sire,” Makura said, grabbing the king’s hand and attempting to pull him out of his seat.

“But I don’t wannnnnnaaaaaaaa go home!”

“Well, you can’t stay here—you’re just going to keep drinking and then you’ll come home at five in the morning tomorrow and puke up a storm and then I’ll have to clean it up!”

“Thuh jan…ee…turs can clean ith up,” Cicero explained simply.

“But they won’t! You’ll make me clean it up because you’re so mean to me!”

“Awwwwwws, I’m not mean tuh yous… you’s justh sooooo fun to boh-tha…” Cicero attempted to pat the top of Makura’s head, but ended up hitting the chair beside him instead. “When’d you get ova there?”

Makura sighed. “Come on, sire… we’re going home. I don’t know why you dislike going back so much—I mean, it’s not like you get mistreated or anything. You’re a king. You get whatever you want.”

“Whennnnnnns I gos back… I see the denths in the waaaaaaall…”

Makura bit his lip. “It’s all right, sire,” he gently whispered and pulled Cicero from his chair with more strength than he looked like he had. “I won’t let the dents get you.”

“Don’ be-l… be-litter… be-litt… looksth down on me!”

“I’d never do that, silly! You’re taller than me!”

Armel watched as they passed through the doors, growling as he realized he’d have to follow or face Densunus’s wrath. It was terribly unfair, how the king disliked him so much. Unfair. He crept outside, following them at a safe distance, barely visible in the dark.

“Buuuuuut Mak-kur-aaaaaaah, I wanth to go to the—”

“You’re not going there. You’ll only hurt yourself, sire, and I won’t let you do that. Not this time. Just… forget about it.”

Cicero peered at the servant dutifully tugging him down the street, supporting him with his thin shoulder. “I can’ forgeeeeeeh… you knoooow I can’…”

“Oh, excuse me, sirs? Armel finally piped up, leaning against a lamppost. “Do you perhaps need some help?”

Makura glanced back, taking inventory of the tall black-haired man. “No, thank you.”

“Aww, why nooooooot, Mak-kur-aaaaaaaah? Whyyyyy nooooooot?”

“You whine like a two-year old!” Makura hissed defiantly.

“Your friend there—he looks a bit tipsy, if I must say… you might be hard-pressed getting him home in that state. I can drive you home if you’d like,” Armel offered, stretching his arm out to Makura in a gesture of friendship. The blue-haired man eyed him warily as Cicero turned around to look at him.

“C’mon, Maaaahkuraaaaaah, let’s get a ride! Nobodeh wants to walk…k.k.k.”

“All right, sir. We sincerely appreciate your kind offer,” Makura droned, helping Cicero over to the sleek black car conveniently parked in front of the bar.

Cicero piled into the backseat, Makura settling in beside him. Armel smirked, opening the driver door and sitting down while the servant nagged the king in the backseat.

“Now really, Cicero, this is very undignified! I’m sure this will be in the paper by morning! Imagine the headlines—‘King of mage empire wanders the city drunk and has to be escorted home by strange curly-haired man with a dead fish on his hat!’ It’ll be so horrible for public relations…” Makura sighed heavily. “Oh, what am I to do with you, sire?”

“Oh, not to worry, your secret’s safe with me, gents,” Armel said. “And it’s not a dead fish. It’s a decorative accessory.”

“Feeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssh babehs!” Cicero yelled, pointing far ahead of them.

“Where?” Makura cried, looking around frantically.

“Gotssssssscha,” he grinned.

“So, where to?” Armel asked, placing his hands elegantly on the steering wheel.

“First, may I see your license and registration, Mr. Fishy-Hat man?”

“Leave the man be, Maaaakuraaaaah. I knowth who he ithhhhhhssssss… hee hee.”

“Who?”

“That Frennnnnnnth guy… the one who—”

“So, would you like me to drop you off at the castle?” Armel cut him off, a mite worried by the way Cicero’s eyes met his. They were unfocused, but there seemed to be much more than just alcohol there.

“Shhhhhhhhhure… such a nice man… donth you agree, Maaaahkurrrrrraaaaah?”

“Really, sire, my name isn’t that long,” Makura said pointedly.

“Of courthhhhhh,” the king agreed, lying back and resting his head in Makura’s lap.

“Do you have permission to do that, sire?” Makura asked, staring down at the man.

Cicero laughed. “Tee-hee-hee… hic… I donth need permithunnnnn! You’re my thervanth! My favorith thervanth!”

“Right,” Makura sighed, setting his hands in the king’s hair for lack of anything else to do. He stared out the window. “The city is really nice at night… too bad you only come out here to get drunk—you’d probably really enjoy it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Makura murmured, absent-mindedly stroking the long black hair beneath his fingers. “There are so many bright lights and the sky is like velvet…”

“A velvet goldmine?”

Makura laughed. “No. Certainly not, sire.”

Armel sighed, aggravated. “Stupid drunks and servants and mushiness. Why not talk about your plans for war?” he muttered to himself. He was actually planning to take them back to the castle—after all, he wasn’t foolish enough to cross the mage king, no matter how drunk he was. Even shitfaced, he was sure to be a formidable opponent. Armel might have been able to show him a thing or two a few years ago, but he was hardly anything to speak of since… well, since becoming a vampire. Damn vampires.

“Soooo, fithy-hat maaaaaaaan—how’ve you beeeeeen sinth you got turned?”

Armel’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. Cicero knew more than he should… so Armel was a spy, but no one knew he was, and he wasn’t important enough otherwise for Cicero to have any interest in him… as far as anyone else knew, he only had a desk job.

“Turned? You speak as if you believe I’m a vampire. Vampires are awfully filthy creatures—I’d never associate with them,” Armel answered haughtily, forcing himself to calm down. Breathe.

“Oh, but they’re awf’lly useful for thum thingssssth,” Cicero murmured, waving his hands about wildly as he sat up.

“Cicero,” Makura warned lowly. “Don’t be so pushy.”

“Like… openeh cans of tooooooe-may-toh juith… counthing large amounths of shings… relieving your… tensions…” Cicero’s eyes met Armel’s in the rearview mirror, and for a moment the cloud of drunkenness was gone from his eyes. But then the seconds passed and he doubled over.

“Cicero!” Makura cried, bending down to see what was wrong.

“Can we thoph, pleathe? I think I migh’ puuuuu—”

“Certainly,” Armel replied primly, pulling over to the side of the road, glad that the king’s moment of clarity had passed. How could Cicero know those things? It wasn’t like it was common knowledge… Armel had never told anyone how he’d become a vampire, so how did this… this drunkard know?

Or maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he was just blabbering on about things, trying to get under Armel’s skin without knowing the significance of his words. Maybe… yes. That had to be it. There was no way he could know the truth.

He put the car in park, waiting for Cicero to get out. After long moments of not hearing a door open, he turned back. “Do you need some help, sir?” he asked, glancing at the king.

“No, of course not,” Cicero said, narrowing his eyes and twisting his mouth into a devilish line. His outstretched hand met Armel’s shoulder and suddenly his fingers were like knives or a million little poles piercing his body, running him through. Blood spattered everywhere, hitting the shocked servant’s face.

“Cicero!” Makura cried, covering his mouth in horror. “What was that? You’re more than drunk, Cicero—you’re—”

“Heh heh heh,” Cicero smirked at Armel, watching as blood dribbled down his chin. “Hate to say it, but you deserve this. You see, you sweet little darling, this is what happens when you touch what doesn’t belong to you. This is what happens when you tangle with kings, you foolish little mage.”

“Cicero, you can’t just kill people!”

“Watch me, Makura. Watch me.”

Makura turned away, opening his door and retching.

“Or don’t watch. I wouldn’t want you to throw up everywhere,” Cicero amended, giving his servant a gentle pat on the back. “So, how about you finish up here and then drive us home?”

“Walk home, you lazy, ungrateful bastard,” Makura bit out, glaring at the king.

“Ooh, prickly. You wouldn’t be so upset if you knew about that guy… and all the things he’s done.”

“It’s not that I mind you killing random guys so much, it’s that you didn’t warn me first and now there’s blood all over my face…” Makura groused as he sat up, testily wiping at his face with his fist.

“I can help you with that,” Cicero offered, smiling.

“Pah. Go away, drunkard. I’m taking you home.”

“But Makura, I’m not as drunk as you thunk!”

“Cicero, you’re obviously as drunk as a skunk,” Makura pointed out, swallowing thickly and going to the front seat to drive.

“Ooh! We should write a children’s book! Umm… the skunk thunk the stump stunk, but the stump thunk the skunk stunk!”

“Go to sleep, sire,” Makura advised, buckling his seatbelt and starting the car.

Scrap Two

Hello, Densunus!

I am sorry to inform you that I have just skewered your servant in his car… tee-hee-hee. I’m a bit drunk now and Makura is a little tramatized... traumaticized… tra… upset because he’s got little blood specklies all over his face, but not to worry—he can still drive, wheeeee! He drives really fast too. Hee hee.

Yeah, but that servant of yours… he was a right ass. You probably didn’t realize quite who he was, but he certainly wasn’t a friend of yours. In fact, he wasn’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. Uhh… well, I’m sure you’ll figure out who he was eventually. I know you—you’re kinda slow, ha ha… but you get it in the end. Use your noodle. I know you can!

Lovin’ you bunches,

Cicero

Dear Cicero,

W. T. F., mate? I know you said you were drunk, but seriously. And what’s this about killing my servant and me being slow? I am not slow, damn you! I am very intelligent and perceptive and you’re just jealous!

And which servant? Machi? Whitfield? Gerbendham? If it’s him, then good riddance. Three cheers for sweet revenge, brother. Uhh… sworn enemy. Yeah.

This isn’t proper. I’m not going to talk to you again until you’re sufficiently sober.

Boy Howdy!

Well, after puking my brains out (and watching Makura clean it up, whee, so much fun!,) I’m pretty sober. So yeah, you know, that curly-haired fish-hat guy? Arm…face? Arm…or? Armly? Something like that. He’s the one I offed, because damn did that guy deserve it. I can give you the grisly details in person. Hee hee. Quite a satisfying experience, I must say—I haven’t had so much fun in ages! Although regrettably, I think that perhaps my dear Makura is leery of me… I would never harm you, my dear, sweet, puke-cleaner-upper! Never! Ahem.

Wishing you would wise up,

Cicero

Dear Cicero,

You still sound drunk. But I guess that’s a permanent malady for you? Always doddering around, not making any sense? Yeah, dude. Get laid or something—it’ll help.

Wishing you’d buy a large box of condoms,

Densunus

Yeah, Densunus,

Sex has always been your solution to every problem that arises. Failing geometry? Have sex! World hunger? Have sex! AIDS epidemic? Have sex ‘til you fall over and the cows come home and buckets are kicked and there is gonorrhea and SYPHILIS and GENITAL WARTS! GENITAL WARTS!

That is gross, man.

Love,

Cicero

You know what? Screw you!

Love,

Densunus

Hey, Den-guy! Not today, baby! …And not tomorrow either, I’m afraid. I’m saving myself for someone special. Someone who doesn’t have…

GENITAL WARTS!

Loving you more every day,

Cicero

AN: This story will never be serious as long as the characters keep acting up like this… ;P But it’s fun for me. I only want to share my joy with others! Yeah, OK.

…I love Makura. Eeeeeee. Lovelove.