NaNoWriMo - Where We Fall, part 7 of 14

[emeraldembers]

Janos could not say he had expected a visitor; certainly not a self-imposed guest and certainly not Vorador; less than that had he expected someone to help him. He was a murderer; he'd taken people from the streets, uncaring of whether they had family or friends to mourn them, uncaring of why they had been out at night, and he had killed them. He was a blood drinker, a scavenger, he was worthless and he had ignored his duties; for weeks he had paid no attention to his role as a guardian, would not even have known if the Reaver had been stolen from the Canyons.

But Vorador had not cared. Vorador had looked for him instead of finding a new home, something he ought to have found easy with his skills and the story he had to tell of why he'd left the old one. And even when Janos had attacked him, even when Janos' madness could have cost him his life, Vorador had held steady, practical and simple, and...

He did not deserve this. Did not know what Vorador had planned, how the human intended to help him - and he did need help, because no matter how he cared for his human friend he could not ignore the singing of Vorador's heartbeat in his ears, the way his thirst was near unquenchable, human after human scattered about his aerie's courtyard. He'd killed nearly one each day across the weeks; sometimes less, sometimes more. He could not dare think how many he had killed in total.

"If you start getting the urge to tear my throat out I'd rather you head back to the village and kill someone else. Or at least tell me so I have time to knock you out," Vorador announced before loosening Janos' bonds, helping him to feet that felt almost ticklish as blood raced to them given the binding had slowed his circulation in most areas before gesturing for him to follow.

The courtyard still resembled a butcher's stall, but something a little more upmarket given the way the bodies had been stacked neatly into a pile, and some... device Janos couldn't quite understand set up next to them. Curiously, nearly every pot that could be found in the aerie seemed to have been stacked there too.

For a moment he wondered how Vorador had ever been able to climb down to the courtyard - or back up again, for that matter - before he spotted the tied together bed sheets around one of the aerie's columns.

Vorador took hold of the knotted bed sheets and slid down to the courtyard before heading over to the peculiar device and using the rope he'd retrieved from Janos to connect up the various pulleys before dragging a corpse towards it, tying its feet up with one end of the rope. "Take this," Vorador ordered, holding out the other end of rope. "I would have tested this myself but you were occupying the rope. Seems only fair you should have to do the work."

Taking firm hold, Janos started pulling and found that the system of pulleys Vorador had set up seemed to make life several times easier; once the corpse had been lifted a good foot off the ground Vorador took the rope back from him, tying it up and seeming somewhat impressed with his own handiwork. Janos had to ask, quite simply; "What now?"

Vorador gave Janos a look that he couldn't quite interpret but suspected was an amused measure of his foolishness, handed over a knife. "Slit his throat."

"... He's already dead," Janos pointed out, which tipped Vorador over the edge into laughter as he took the knife back and slit the throat himself, a thick glut of partially congealed blood running out from the gash in the corpse's neck and into the bowl below. "... Ah."

"Ah indeed." Vorador tilted his head to one side as he watched the last of the blood drain. "I've seen one or two human butchers do this with animals. Not that they had bitten and partially drained the animals' blood beforehand, but still. Efficiency."

"There is something decidedly dark about you, Vorador." Janos said, chewing on his cheek in thought as he waited until only drips were left, moving the bowl aside and untying the corpse's feet.

"I would say I'm ruthlessly practical rather than dark." Vorador caught the body and dragged it off to the side, setting it down and making sure there was a decent distance between it and the bodies that hadn't been drained yet, though the slit throats were a good marker in and of themselves. "You can start the next one, and when we're done here, we're cleaning you up."

"I'm not a child," Janos reminded, giving Vorador a warning look when the human opened his mouth with what looked very much like full intentions of saying something offensive. "I can clean myself."

"Very well, you can clean yourself, and I'll clean your clothes. Either way, I need to know where there's a water source other than ice around here."

Janos nodded, wondered how much food and water Vorador had brought with him as preparation for the trip. The blacksmith's thoughtful streak ran deep - were he a strategist he'd be outright fearsome, ironic given he was on the one side that had yet to engage in a truly consuming war. "If you need water you can drink, the lake is clean enough, but normally cleaning is for the hot springs -"

"Good," Vorador cut across. "I'll gather your rags and riches together, then you can show me how the hell we get out of this damned place to the springs."



Vorador was swift in his preparations, untying his makeshift rope after finishing with using it for climbing and separating out the various sheets used to make it before folding them roughly into a bundle and heading for Janos' bedroom to reclaim the scattered, filthied robes. Within minutes he had a full basket gathered together; Janos had almost forgotten he owned a basket, felt outright ashamed of the unwashed clothing that had accumulated. "Well?" Vorador asked. "May I have the directions?"

Janos hesitated, twitching his wings both in instinctive preparation for flight and in wondering of how best to put forward the facts. Vorador tended to prefer straightforward answers, so may as well be truthful; "Humans can't reach the springs - not with any ease, anyway. If you insist on coming with me, I'll have to carry you."

Vorador shrugged. "I insist. Until I'm damned sure you're not going to fly off to the other end of Nosgoth when I turn my back on you, I'm not letting you out of my sight for more than ten minutes. Are you ready?"

"Well, yes -"

"One moment then," Vorador cut across, before putting down the basket he had been holding and tipping the clothes out onto the floor, taking a bed sheet from the pile and wrapping it around the others before tying it into a neat bundle he could then sling over his shoulders and secure around his arms. "Good. Now."



It had been months since he'd carried Kylian out of the air forge. Even that incident had been strange; Janos was not used to having another person's weight to support, though the fact Vorador was not a dead weight made carrying him immeasurably easier despite a bundle of robes settled against his back.

God, and Kylian was one of those who'd taken their life on realising what their curse meant, yet another of those he'd known who was no longer part of this world. Jayne had been executed for the human murders - and how cruel a twist of fate that had been given what followed hours after the execution - and he'd heard nothing from Elena, suspected the worst.

"If you thought any louder I could hear you," Vorador announced, first words he'd said on the journey. He'd repressed any fear of falling or vertigo well all things considered, perhaps by keeping quiet so that there was no chance of him being able to acknowledge such fears. And that was good too; Janos would never say such a thing out loud in case it brought on the very accident he was trying to avoid, but he could easily picture dropping someone who started squirming in terror.

The hot springs had not changed with the raising of the Pillars; it was surprising how little of the North had in general, but that said, the North had never been as ravaged by the war as other areas and had less to heal. It was hard to estimate how much of Nosgoth was healing through the war being over and how much through the strange magic of the Pillars, but either way it was clear that the Hylden's absence seemed to be letting the land cleanse swifter than he had ever thought possible.

Landing carefully given that he was holding Vorador a little lower than himself and needed the human to prepare for grounding as much as him, Janos breathed out in relief, muscles seeming to unwind at the very thought of bathing. It was a little strange watching Vorador shed the bundle of robes he had tied to his back; easy to forget that human physiology allowed such a thing.

"I'll attend to my task if you attend to yours," Janos announced, trying to sound reasonably confident as he found a somewhat more sheltered part of the springs, waiting for Vorador to look away before stripping and sliding into the water. It was easy to forget just how indulgent the waters were, almost too hot against his skin, especially in comparison with the cool air of the rest of the mountains.

Even if he was conscious to retain an air of dignity as he washed, Janos still found himself feeling overly self conscious of his nudity. There was only a certain amount of emotional distance one could keep when washing one's skin; the gestures were inherently sensual, and that in itself was discomforting, especially given that Janos had come to something of a realisation some time ago, ignoring the fact as best as possible for practical reasons.

He was attracted to Vorador. Despite his being human, despite the visible tattoos and the fact that high cheekbones aside he bore few of the traits normally found attractive by his kind, Janos found him appealing. Certainly not to the degree where he was stunned senseless by Vorador's looks; it was an appeal that had grown as he learnt more about the human, and somehow, aging had added further character to Vorador's face that he could not help but admire. Watching him rinse the dried blood off used robes, eyes focused on the task and slightly shuttered, there was something outright handsome in Vorador. Taking a bath barely out of the human's vision made Janos feel quite alarmingly exposed.

It did not help that when Vorador finished washing the bundle he had brought with him, leaving some to soak in the water a while longer, he disobeyed Janos' unspoken request for privacy by walking over and picking up the robes he had shed in order to bathe. "Should I wash these too?" He asked, raising an eyebrow despite his expressions not being aimed in Janos' direction. At least he'd kept his eyes averted.

Well, thank God for the heat of the springs providing an effective excuse for the flush to his skin. "I'll need something to wear once I'm through," Janos reminded; it ought to be obvious why even without explanation. Common courtesy and modesty aside, walking around Uschtenheim in the nude was not a recommendable course of action for even those with the hardiest of skins.

"Fair enough. I'll drape the rest to dry, let me know when you're ready."

Watching Vorador leave left him at once slightly disappointed yet more relaxed, able to finish his bath in relative privacy as a few distant tree limbs were borrowed for drying his clothes, sinking beneath the water regardless of his wings. They already needed grooming; besides, after shedding the water from his wings the time for their drying would be bought by a need to dress and recover his washed robes.



After setting Vorador to hanging up the rest of his clothes - regardless of Vorador taking him as host, he was not yet prepared to treat the human as a guest - Janos retreated to his bedroom, looking through the cabinets, scarce remembering where he stored washing equipment. Strange to see all the dust here; at the Citadel he was meticulous about arranging and cleaning his property, and he had been the same here; just that after so long away from home nature had taken its course; he'd have to make several quick repairs to the stone, quakes in the area having left it in such a state it might have collapsed were it not for the magical support.

Finally he managed to recover his razor, nearly dropping it and cursing out loud despite himself when Vorador announced his entrance by slamming the door open.

"Local slang?" Vorador asked, walking over to him and taking the razor from his hands with a slight frown. At least Janos had instinctively sworn in a manner mostly confined to vampires, else Vorador might have been a little more violent in acquiring the razor.

"Something like that," Janos replied, before tilting his head towards the razor. "I was about to take care of -"

"I'll cut your hair for you," Vorador replied, looking about the room before nudging Janos over to the bed. "Sit down."

At least Vorador had been swift enough to assume the correct answer instead of leaping to conclusions about Janos' bringing out the razor, even if he did have to roll his shoulders to ease the tension in them as he sat down on the bed's edge. Despite common sense and despite himself he couldn't help but feel anxious as Vorador moved to kneel behind him, lifting the hair from his neck and causing dark strands to fall across his face as he sliced the tangled length away before scolding him, "You might have been a decent enough General but you're god-awful at looking after yourself."

"How did you know where to find me?" Janos asked, enjoying the alien feeling of air cool against the back of his neck. Apparently Vorador was intent on cutting it short, but he had no complaints; had felt strangely uncomfortable with the length of his hair for some time now but never quite got around to taking care of it.

"I didn't. Your damned directions were completely useless; I headed North and wandered the rest of the way from there, listening out for pretty much any vampire story I could hear. Apparently the humans around here have been made stupid by the cold because rather than complaining about vampire attacks they seemed to be more concerned with a mysterious plague."

"I'm a plague now?" Janos half-asked, half-stated in an amused tone of voice. "It's inventive."

"Human talent," Vorador replied, sounding similarly amused as he ran fingers over Janos' neck to sweep loosened hair away, the razor returning to add a little more structure to the cut. It had been a long time since he wore his hair so short, but with the stress of recent weeks having added silver to his hair that had not been there before, it seemed an advisable change to make. "I think we're done here."

Janos nodded, taking the razor back from Vorador carefully and using its reflective surface to survey the resulting haircut as best as possible. It would certainly do for now, even if the slightly over-long front did add something a little whimsical to the look he would likely have to rid himself of at a later date. "And now grooming," Janos grumbled, going to get off the bed before finding his shoulder tapped, Vorador waving a small bottle of oil. Apparently he'd come prepared.

"I'm guessing this is what you use normally?"

"Well, yes, but -" how to explain vampire physiology to Vorador? He'd never experienced wings and how the sensitivity of the nerves could make one react. "I ought to do this myself." Vorador sighed a little melodramatically, held the bottle out to Janos while running his free hand along the outer bone of one wing and sending Janos' breath quickening against his will. Oh, this was a bad idea, but he had spent so much time without company, and it was hard to resist when Vorador was just warm enough to comfort something deep within his skin. Waving Vorador's hand aside, Janos dug his claws deep into the mattress to give him something to concentrate on while resisting the urge to flare his wings. "If you're determined. Be careful, any accidental tickling and I'm likely to break your arm or knock you off the bed."

"As you wish. I thought birds had a natural secretion for this," Vorador pointed out as he tipped a little of the oil into his palm before setting the bottle aside and rubbing his hands together.

"As do we," Janos replied, tensing at the first stroke of calloused hands down his wings, "But we disregard it as you would sweat." Vorador's stroking grew firmer as he became more certain of what he was doing, the friction bringing warmth and the sensation of trapped dust being shifted and replaced by a light slick of clean oil soothing Janos' nerves. "The smell is quite... pungent," Janos added, tensing further as Vorador's hands slipped under his wings, more oil coating them in preparation for the under-feathers. He should not have let Vorador do this favour; it was too intimate, far more than he'd expected. Grooming was not uncommon between close friends but there were close friends and there were close friends you were attracted to, and the difference was all-important.

"I thought I'd smelt musk," Vorador agreed. "It doesn't smell as bad as you might think." Fingers grazed the base of Janos' wings and he gasped despite himself, wasn't surprised by hands withdrawing and the expected question, "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Janos assured, catching his breath and forcing himself to regain his composure, freeing a hand from the bed sheets to rub the back of his neck. "That was instinctive. I'm sorry."

Vorador said nothing, hands returning to their task, and this time Janos bit his lip as the remaining under feathers were oiled before he gasped and arched back, unable to help himself as Vorador seized the base of his wings and oiled this too. Impossible to suppress the sounds he wanted to make and resist the urge to let his wings flare. "There's no need f-for you to oil there," Janos explained, felt Vorador still for a moment before the callused, oiled hands repeated their journey up the base of his wings, coating it further.

"There is every need if it makes you gasp like that," Vorador replied, voice dark with something Janos had not expected, barely believed even after hearing it, and Janos turned to comment but had the words stolen away by firm lips on his. It didn't matter that the angle was awkward, that his neck was aching and his wings felt crushed between his body and Vorador's chest, because Vorador had started the kiss, not him, and that meant this was mutual.

He had to catch his breath again when Vorador pulled away, wondered when his eyes had closed as he reopened them, and licked his bruised lips as Vorador smirked. "I should have known I would have to act first," Vorador said, stretching with satisfaction before allowing Janos to nudge him into lying on his back.

Still unsteady with the idea that this was truly happening, Janos shifted to kneel over the blacksmith, saw that Vorador's loose trousers did no more to disguise arousal than his own robes did to hide his. "How long have you -"

"Do you remember?" Vorador interrupted, eyes narrowing, and Janos wondered who was going to make the next move, unsure what to do, uncertain what he wanted. "No. So you should realise I have no more idea than you as to how long."

Vorador had taken the lead in starting this but seemed content to relinquish control, letting Janos unlace his trousers with hands that kept fumbling with the suddenness of this and slide them down before lifting his own robes up. "You hid your feelings well," Janos said as he shifted to rub against Vorador, biting back a gasp at the contact of flesh against flesh and trusting Vorador's hands to take care of what he couldn't, his own hands occupied with maintaining his balance given he half expected to collapse at any moment in sheer disbelief at what had happened.

"You weren't looking for them. You were too busy thinking that I could never be interested," Vorador teased before reaching up suddenly and wrapping both arms around Janos' waist, pulling him down close even though doing so limited their movements.

Perhaps that was a good thing; gave Janos time to recover a little from the head start in arousal Vorador had given him through grooming. It was a short rest though, Vorador rolling quickly so that they lay side by side, most of their legs sticking out comically off the bed's edge, but at least this gave them more ability to manoeuvre without crushing Janos' wings or forcing one of them to keep balance. Dislodged feathers and the tufts of sliced away hair made an odd addition to the bed sheet's surface but even if his skin was fascinated by the sensations Janos found all his attention was devoted to Vorador's eyes, the way he was being devoured beneath that stare. No violence in them despite Janos finding his hand slapped away when he went to stroke Vorador's erection, Vorador's hand trailing up his side beneath the robes instead of somewhere more intimate and exploring him, and it was so strange to realise that they truly were from different species. The curve of Vorador's back and waist was so slight in comparison to his own, the muscles of his torso not geared to support wings, muscles of his legs not designed to help him spring into the air. Their colours were different, their hands different - even the amount of body hair was different, and he'd given so little thought to this in recent times. He never forgot that Vorador was human but ever since the time Vorador had angrily declared "I'm a blacksmith, not some chicken-boned child", Janos had barely given a moment's consideration to the fact they weren't from the same race.

It ought to have been too cold for it but Janos found he seemed to be sweating anyway, his hand unsteady as he brushed his thumb across Vorador's lips before moving in for another kiss, and this time Vorador allowed the contact, finally sliding a hand back between them and letting Janos return the gestures. God, he'd never... he remembered what slick heat had been like, sinking into warmth and softness and wetness, but Vorador was male and human and different. Vorador was hard, hard for him, and a few quick hand movements were enough to shift slickness from the head of his erection down over the length of it, and these were motions he remembered from times when he'd entertained himself but it wasn't his erection he was holding, it was Vorador's. Vorador who smelt of iron and smoke, Vorador whose heartbeat Janos could feel ever since the curse.

The kiss ended as Vorador moved back long enough to bite at his ear, down to his neck, leaving him squeezing the erection in his hand harder while the hand trapped against the sheet clutched at nothing, his feet little better as they grasped for a hold on air that could not be granted. He wasn't able to fly here, he wasn't with someone who could fly.

Between the grooming and the shock, he had honestly, genuinely thought he would come long before Vorador started showing signs but his human was shifting against him, moving into his every stroke and squeeze, and Janos found himself sliding a leg around Vorador's waist to let them move against each other more effectively. Where he'd been left simply breathless, unable to find any words for this, Vorador was panting and grumbling, rambling mostly nonsense but snippets coming through, every sound inflaming his own veins and making him ache with more than arousal, growls of "Too much, you're too damn much," and his name uttered like it were something between holy and obscene.

Vorador's come over his hands felt both surreal and yet utterly right at the same time, confusing his senses when they were already overloaded with sight and sound and smell, the taste of salt sweat and feel of slickness everywhere, his body feeling hotter than seemed possible in Uschtenheim. It felt impossible to take anymore but the precipice of orgasm seemed further away every time he moved closer towards it and he thought, honestly thought it was going to drive him mad, but Vorador was staring at him, eyes flicking only briefly to where both their hands were moving now between watching him, and that gaze left him more bare, more naked than he could ever be without the robes, and as he slammed his hips hard up against Vorador, finally coming over the human's chest, he sobbed with it for a moment, exhausted and shattered by the experience, and Vorador might have muttered something more but it was lost on him as sanity slipped away.



He might have been asleep for a moment; he might merely have been incoherent, but he only truly woke as smooth, cool material brushed across his overheated skin, clearing away the worst of the mess on his front. Opening his eyes showed a similarly cleaned Vorador using a corner of the top-sheet as a tool for this, moving slowly, as if savouring as menial a task as this. He had to look ruined - exhausted, hair in all directions from sweat, covered in a sticky mess with his own shed feathers and hair adding substance to it all.

Words didn't exist for the moment he caught Vorador's eyes so he didn't try to find them, allowed his human to help him to his feet so they could gather the ruined sheet's corners together and tied the whole thing into a bundle before throwing it across the room. "You'll have to sleep with me tonight," He said, nothing coming close to suiting the moment and his practical side demanding a voice instead.

"Would I have said no if you asked?" Vorador taunted before pulling back the blankets, looking at them with some puzzlement, and cursing. "How many sheets do you have?"

"I wasn't taking that risk," Janos replied to the first question, stripping out of his robes before getting into the bed with a satisfaction he'd scarcely thought possible without physical exercise and demonstrating how exactly the sheets worked; they weren't so complex in all honesty, one sheet tucked into the mattress, one loose beneath the main blankets, and usually one on top of them all though they'd seen to that particular sheet's uselessness tonight.

"Seems more like a challenge than a place to sleep," Vorador grumbled. "One sheet used to be enough back home."

"Your home was not Uschtenheim," Janos replied, trying not to be too amused by Vorador's near sulking at the cold, pulling the blankets up to their waists once Vorador had got in and relaxing into the mattress with an ease he'd not had since... God, he couldn't remember. The bonelessness of orgasm had left him near weak, and it was paradoxically exhilarating.

"I might have lied before," Vorador explained as he reached across, brushing Janos' hair back from his face. It was an easy gesture to relax into, and Janos found himself closing his eyes almost involuntarily, sleep tugging at his eyelids. "I said I didn't know but I think I was answering the wrong question."

"Hm?"

"I've always thought you beautiful," Vorador replied, repeating the brushing gesture for no practical reason. "Even when I first found you sprawled on the hill like fallout from some drunken vampire orgy."

Janos laughed at that analogy near breathlessly, catching the hand running through his hair in his own and squeezing lightly. "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you."

"Huh." Vorador sounded dismissive, pulling their joined hands back from Janos' face and kissing the knuckle of Janos' thumb before letting them slip down to his hips. "You might not deserve this, but I do."

If Janos said anything further past that point, he would never recall it later, words seeming to lie meaningless between them. There were times for symbols and words and comparisons, and times when all of those fell short and all that mattered was listening to another person's voice while slipping into sleep.



Janos woke up to a callused hand stroking down his back, the quiet humming of some human tune, and he found himself yawning into the pillow with satisfaction, stretching with pleasure.

"You slept well," Vorador said with some amusement, fingertips tracing each bump of rib before skipping straight to hip-bone.

"Did you?" Janos asked, lifting his face from the pillows and wondering what exactly to do with the morning; he must have had plans, but for the life of him could not recall anything. Stranger still, he didn't mind not knowing.

"Not particularly," Vorador replied, hand moving back up into Janos' hair. "But I can't say that bothers me."

"What happens now?" Janos asked, still feeling almost awed by what had happened. Fate keeping the world balanced yet again, his life collapsing around him and the one good thing that had happened since the Hylden were banished had changed from a brief break from reality's harshness to a constant.

"I have a few ideas, most of which require the abuse of your grooming oil, but breakfast sounds good for now."

Janos laughed at the simplicity of the answer - the obviousness of it and the grounding in reality. But that was a human talent through and through, wasn't it? Humans had no need for flights of fancy and poetic answers. They could give them, certainly, but strip those decorations away and human culture was as simplistically rich as possible. "Just when I thought I knew you."

"The shallowest people in the world still have a few surprises up their sleeves," Vorador replied before sitting up and stretching, his stomach grumbling audibly. "Can you even get food in a place like this?"

"How do you think I survived before the blood thirst?" Janos asked before answering his own question, "You would be surprised what the ice will preserve. Food just takes longer to cook."

"Best get started then. I'm sure I'll find a way to keep myself amused during the wait."

Janos shivered pleasantly as fingers trailed up his spine, arched when they moved into his wings. "We can't just spend all day in bed."

"I see no reason why not, unless you're thinking of the kitchen table." Vorador's expression dropped a little of the wickedness then, though not much. "Nothing you could ever say would convince me you do not deserve a rest."

"What have the past hours been then?" Janos asked, wondering when he last attended to something close to his duties.

"Preparing to rest," Vorador replied. "General or not, you still need to relax."

"I should -"

"One day," Vorador interrupted, rolling over onto Janos' back and pressing his face into the wings before sniffing loudly, breath tickling Janos' feathers. "Mmm. One day, then we can start worrying about should and should not."



Janos lacked the strength and, truth be told, the desire to resist Vorador's suggestion any longer, although he was fairly certain it was unwise to prepare breakfast while naked. Vorador had positively revolted at the idea of putting on any clothing before he had eaten, was insistent on dragging Janos back into bed for another few minutes to explore their differences with fingers and tongue while the hearth took care of his meal. There was plenty more in life than food and sex but Vorador seemed wholly uninterested in the alternatives for now, would likely have refused to get dressed at all if Janos had not insisted breakfast be served elsewhere in the aerie; he had little energy for protesting but certainly drew the line at breakfast in bed. That was for the ill or the lazy, and he was neither.

Peculiar as it seemed, Janos found it far easier to observe Vorador outside the bedroom; with the sense of urgency gone it was easier to think over what had fled his mind before he could note it while they had been in bed. Vorador's arms particularly had his favour, their size and strength driving home the idea that his human was not weak or fragile despite the normal disparity in strength between their races.



The day passed relatively quickly, but blissfully despite that, allowed the two of them time enough to return to the hot springs and wash the sheet they had ruined the previous night after a proper grooming given that any tidying of his feathers had been negated moments after Vorador's first attempt by the activity they had followed it up with. Conversation drifted from topic to topic, family being a sore point for both due to loss and swiftly brushed aside in favour of friends, general interests, talking to each other about their skills and what they entailed. He could not help feeling a little as if he was learning Vorador all over again; that as a friend there had been an unspoken need to keep some details quiet but now there was an equally intense need to just... to say everything and have someone hear it, someone who might understand when they had never dared tell someone else.

The sun started to set as Vorador had his dinner - if it could honestly be called that, given it was mostly breakfast's leftovers with added spices and cooked for longer - but Janos held true to his word, kept silent about his duties until any signs of amber, red or purple had faded from the sky, leaving it black and strewn with a mist of stars. Light pollution never hid the majority of the stars out here as it did in the Citadel, allowed even the faintest to shine through.

As much as Vorador might have liked to hold the sun in place and demand it stay there until he was satisfied, he lacked that skill and Janos had to disappoint him by returning to the subject of duties. "We'll have to pack for tomorrow morning," Janos announced as he looked up at the sliver of sky visible between partially drawn curtains.

"Hm. You're thinking of returning to the Citadel, aren't you?"

"I need to reclaim the Reaver," Janos pointed out. "And I owe it to those who retained their sanity to oversee their burials, assuming the worst."

"Then they were not all hell-bent on maiming every human or vampire they could find?" Vorador asked, sounding a little surprised. "I was starting to think you as mad for wanting to return as you were when you left."

Janos' wings twitched a little at the memory and he closed his eyes for a moment, sighed to himself. "I left General Lemm fighting to save you. Or, rather, to see if you needed saving." He smirked despite himself at the thought. "I was not much of a hero that night, was I?"

"You did well enough. And if General Lemm earned the reputation she has amongst humans, I suspect she'll have done a damn sight better for herself than you might fear." Vorador rolled his shoulders with a yawn, night sapping his energy, then frowned. "You realise I cannot come with you."

Janos opened his mouth to protest before coming to a sudden realisation, one that had somehow, and bizarrely, slipped his mind; he could control his hunger, but it was not necessarily the case that the others would. Given the feeling of satiated thirst, they might not even want to. Taking Vorador back to the Citadel would be like leaving a lamb in the care of starving wolves. "I would protect you -"

"And alienate your own kind. Go, Janos. Do whatever duties you deem necessary. But don't ask me to come with you."

"Where would you stay?" Janos asked, tying one bag around his hips before bringing the other up across his chest. "I could be away some time. Weeks, perhaps months."

Vorador rolled his eyes as an alternative to outright stating the answer, and Janos nodded in return.

"If for any reason you should –"

"I'm not a child and have no plans on dying in your absence. If something happens, I know where to find you."