Prince Charming

Note: Ok! I know, I know…it’s late. My apologies. I promised it for Friday and, well, now it’s Monday. I felt uber bad sick…and if you want to whine…I’ll just cough on you! Hah! So there! Anyway… :gonk: I’m still not totally better physically…but my mood is better…and that’s what I find most important anyway so…yay! ^^ I’ve told you before, fate is against me when I try to make promises…so I’m just going to cough on fate to and say I HOPE I will post again on Friday…maybe even earlier! But probably not…since, even though I’ve got this written up to seventeen…I’m going through icky writer’s block. XP Okay then! End of the dreaded ‘Rant of the Sick Person’…and onto the story! (Many thanks to my beta again, yay! ^^)

Chapter Thirteen

Kneeling beside the stream, Drake took a quick scoop of the crystal clear liquid and splashed it far from sparingly over his face, shutting his eyes as the sub-freezing water ran over his travel-heated features, and breathing the fresh scent of wilderness, mountains and un-tampered-with nature.

“I really don’t see how you can stand that…” He glanced over at the voice, drying off the majority of the water with his shirt sleeve as his eyes ran over the slender figure currently propped up against a nearby tree, sheathed dagger between his fingers as he attempted, and repeatedly failed, to toss and catch the thing with a spin. After dropping it for the fifth time since their stop, he stooped to pick it up, frowning and shaking his head as he did so. “It’s freezing. Literally.”

“Ice melt. Very cold…” Drake stood up from the bank, brushing off his damp hands on his leggings before coming forward enough to take back his dagger. “…but not freezing.”

Teige looked dissatisfied, but didn’t argue, shuffling his feet and stuffing thumbs in the sides of his belt like makeshift pockets. “Close enough…and I was practicing with that!”

“This?” Davinoff waved the dagger from side to side in front of the other as the smaller man’s disgruntled appearance increased. “No, you weren’t practicing…you were trying to take Stallion’s eye out.” As if he had heard, the horse gave an answering whinny of impatience, scuffing a front hoof along the already battered grass patch beneath its feet. “Besides…we should get going…”

“Trying? I was almost succeeding…” Teige muttered in a mildly sarcastic drawl before proceeding to follow after his companion’s example. “Where are we going, anyway? And what’s the hurry? It’s always go, go, go with you and you never tell me where, or why…haven’t I been around long enough to earn the right to at least a few questions?”

“We’re going where I decide we’re going in a hurry because I like to move fast and yes you have the right to a few questions, I’ve just answered three. Any more?” Teige looked rather taken aback for a moment, then scowled, but before he could argue, the larger man continued. “I never said you had to follow me…feel free to leave at any time.”

“Draaaake…” It sounded more like a whine than anything else and Davinoff quirked an eyebrow before unlashing Stallion’s reigns in silence, ignoring the plea completely. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

“Hmph.” It came out as a grunt, the larger man lifting himself onto the horse in one move and glancing down to the other with an indecisive expression. “Somehow…I have a feeling your deals won’t end well for me.”

“Sure it will.” Teige offered up a hand and Davinoff took it, helping him up easily and pulling him into place against him, wrapping his arms around to each side to grip the reigns. “I’ll quit asking where we’re going and why…and you teach me how to use that dagger, starting tonight.”

“Does the shutting up part start now or do I have to wait till tonight?”

Teige dropped his head backwards, landing it with a mild thud against the brick wall of the other’s chest before sending the larger man a silent glare. “Now. Deal?”

Without a second’s pause, the man nodded, urging the horse into a trot even as he answered fluently. “Deal.”

They rode straight for hours, as they often had on days before, following the stream upriver and staying near the bank in order to give the horse free room to walk. By mid afternoon, they had begun trekking up the base of mountain, but, as promised, Teige put no further questions on his companion about their whereabouts or destination. That deal did not, however, keep his mouth shut, and for the majority of the evening, his voice alone filled in time with a nearly endless stream of chatter. To his surprise, Drake never requested his silence once.

As the sun dipped lower over the treetops, they began searching for a suitable campsite. About an hour later, with the sky nothing but a foggy pink and purple haze, they pulled to a stop in a reasonably flat clearing almost directly on the riverbank. Stallion took advantage of some interesting shreds of plant life growing by the stream and drank to his heart’s content before retiring early. The two humans took a bit more time arranging their sleeping quarters.

Because of the close confinement and limited flat space, they eventually decided against tents, simply unfurling two sleeping rolls for the night and declaring their beds satisfactory. In an effort not to attract any unwanted guests, they prepared only a small fire, for warmth alone, and ate from their supply of traveling biscuits by the flickering light.

“We don’t really need a fire…” Drake grumbled mildly as he folded up the remainder of his meal to save for another day. “The mountains are only going to get colder. You should get used to it now while the weather’s mild.”

Teige shivered, running a hand over his forearm in a brief hope for warmth before giving up and shaking his head as he too wrapped up his meal. For a second he almost questioned why they had to pick mountains to gallivant off into in the first place, but then remembered his deal and took a different approach, ignoring the other’s statement completely and bringing up a new subject. “You promised me dagger lessons…ready to start?”

“Now? The sun’s long gone and you can barely see-“

“Ah,” Teige corrected, standing from his makeshift log chair and brushing the dust off his leggings. “Correction, you can barely see.” Glancing to the treetops, then all around, his blue eyes shifted about the dark woods surrounding him before he gave a quick nod. “I can see just fine.” The last statement came out slightly quieter, a looming reminder of a subject he didn’t even want to think about. “Besides…” He sent a small smirk in the other’s direction, successfully playing off his worry lightheartedly. “You’re the professional. You should be able to throw those things blindfolded with one hand tied behind your back.”

Drake gave a dissatisfied grumble, a wide array of incomprehensible noises escaping him as he tossed a stick on the fire, stood, and stretched with a muffled yawn. “You sure this can’t wait till morning? The gods blessed us with sunlight for a reason.”

“And, I assure you, I feel totally blessed, but…I like the night, and now is as good a time as any considering you’ll want us leaving as soon as grey dawn breaks tomorrow morning.” Teige stated with confidence, his eyes following the other’s movements as he came up beside him, fingering free a small dagger from its position at his hip and palming it in first his left, then his right. After a moment, he stepped to the side, picking up a medium sized log from their small stack and lifting it before his companion.

“See this? When this is ashes…” He tossed it in the fire. “…the lesson’s over. Got it?” The smaller man nodded, and he returned to his side. “Alright…” He freed a second dagger from the opposite side of his belt and offered the first one to his dark-haired companion. “…that tree there?” He pointed to a reasonably large tree with a wide trunk about fifteen feet ahead. “Try and hit it.” Within seconds of Teige lifting his hand, the other hastily interrupted. “No, no, no! Wait…look, the dagger’s not a stone or branch…it has shape, it’s made to be thrown, so treat it like it. Hold it like…” The man paused, first raising his left hand, then frowning and switching to his right. “…this.” When Teige attempted to mimic the move, Drake’s brow furrowed slightly and he caught the smaller man’s hand in his, sliding his fingers till they came into place and moving behind him as he led his movements. “It’s not a troll’s club or barbarian butcher knife made for crushing and ripping to bits…it’s light, small. You have to feel the movements.”

With Davinoff’s help, who was literally behind him every step of the way, Teige hit the target the first three times, always off center even with Drake’s guidance, but at least in the trunk. His first time alone he hit the trunk with the hilt, and his second, third, forth, and fifth missed altogether. Thankfully, his eyesight allowed him to find the small blade in the grasses, regardless of the lack of light. On his sixth time out around the tree in search of his weapon, he struck up conversation again, raising a point he’d wondered about once before, and had been brought to his attention again by the other man’s actions at the beginning of their lesson.

“You’re left handed, aren’t you.” Teige made it more of a statement than a question, but Drake didn’t take it all that positively, a frown of indecision marring his features as he folded his arms and leaned a shoulder against a trunk closer to the campsite.

“I usually use my right, but I can use both.”

“You’re better with your left though.” The smaller man persisted, stooping as he located the missing piece of weaponry and wiping the dirt carefully from its blade with his tunic. “I saw you use it with the salcidae, then again at the beginning of our lesson. You use it sometimes when you practice, too…with your sword?”

Davinoff frowned, shrugging off the comment and standing up off the tree as Teige returned to his throwing station with the dagger. “Nothing gets past you, does it…?” The redhead muttered, only halfway sarcastic as he flipped a dagger in his right and tossed it carelessly at the tree, hitting dead center. “I told you, I can use either.”

“You favor your right but do better with your left. Why?” Teige tossed his own dagger and hit the tree beside his target about five feet over with side of the blade, knocking off a bit of bark but not much else as the weapon spun and fell with a light thud into the grass.

“Why are you asking?” Davinoff went to retrieve his blade at the same time as the smaller man followed to find his.

“I’ve been traveling with you for…what…a few weeks? A month?” Teige brushed back a loose strand of raven locks as he glanced down in search of his knife.

“Not a month.” Drake pulled free his dagger and glanced over as the smaller man spotted his own and stooped to grab it.

“Awhile…and I don’t know anything about you.” Inspecting the dagger first, Teige eventually shrugged moving back over to throw again as the other followed after. “Maybe I’m just curious…”

After a moment’s pause, Drake hesitated, eying the obsidian-haired figure as he made a second throw, then watching with a lingering fascination as the smaller man bent to retrieve his loss. Finding himself staring, he hastily snapped his gaze away, glaring at the dagger in his palm as if it might have had something to do with his distraction before muttering dryly. “I was always told…the left hand is the hand of the devil…only evil could come of me using it so…” Again, he tossed his weapon, this time with considerably more force, and Teige resisted the urge to wince, almost feeling the tree’s pain as he watched the dagger sink nearly hilt deep. “Don’t use my left all that often.”

“Who told you that?”

Another pause. “My mother.” Teige watched the man retrieve his weapon, yanking it from the trunk rather roughly and keeping his grip clenched, knuckle-white around it even after it came free.

“Your mother told you your left hand was evil?”

“She told me a lot of things about me were evil, actually…never could seem to get much right around her. The one mistake in her perfect life…a liability, miscreant, troublesome disappointment, but hey!” Drake had made his way across the grass, now standing directly before his companion as he snatched up the second dagger. “What are mothers for, right?”

Teige frowned, concern etched in his features as he opened his mouth, but the other interrupted before he could get more than a word out. “Drake-…”

“Lesson’s over. Take out your bedroll and get some sleep.”

“But-…” He glanced to the fire, the given log barely halfway to ash, then gave in, still dissatisfied as he unfurled his sleeping cloth and worked open his boot laces, curling into the durable bedding shortly after, fully dressed, the weather too cold for much less cover. As he heard the other performing the same activities over the dying cackle of the fire, he pulled his sheet unconsciously closer, shutting his eyes before mumbling quietly. “Drake?”

At first, he thought Davinoff might not have heard him, and had just prepared to ask louder when he got his answer in the form of a gruff acknowledgement. “Yeah?”

Teige relaxed slightly into the covers, the very faintest of smiles curving onto his lips as he replied. “Goodnight.”

Though Teige couldn’t see it, the redhead turned at his comment, russet gaze examining the smaller figure with a perplexed, but almost pleased expression before he shook his head, turning away from the sight and mumbling beneath his breath. “Goodnight, Teige…”

As per the younger man’s prediction, they woke, ate, and departed before grey dawn had left the sky, the heavens silvery and fresh, barely awake with the promise of a new day when they first mounted the mercenary’s proud black steed, and for two weeks, their situation barely changed. Together, they participated in nightly dagger lessons, though in none of them did Davinoff ever let slip any more of his parentage, upbringing, or past in general, and the few times Teige attempted to bring it up, their current lesson met an abrupt and untimely end.

Over the course of their travels, they came across fewer and fewer villages, their path continuing up through a nameless mountain range which Teige never asked an identification of for fear of breaking his end of the deal. On days where the trail grew rougher and Stallion showed signs of tiring, they occasionally walked, and other times stopped altogether, Davinoff taking the time, at Teige’s request, to show his smaller companion more styles of weaponry, defense, and even simple hunting skills. By the third week, however, Teige became preoccupied with glancing up the mountain, part of him feeling drawn to move suddenly faster and reach wherever they were headed, and another part dreading their arrival altogether. Each day, the weather got colder.

Snow crunched beneath Teige’s feet, the cold seeping through the thick, water-resistant skins of his boots and chilling him to the bone regardless of how much cover he packed on the outside. Each step felt like breaking through brittle glass, the material beneath him more ice than snow, and despite the sizeable physical strain of just walking through it, his movement did about as much good as his clothing to dispel the frigid temperature.

“D-davinoff…” Teige brought frozen hands over his lips, shutting his eyes and praying for warmth as he breathed onto them, willing his voice steady before he glanced over to the man on the opposite side of the horse, apparently suffering none of the effects of such cold. “…are we…g-going…” Silently, he cursed himself for the stuttering, gritting his teeth, then continuing with persistence. “Are we going downhill again soon?”

Davinoff eyed him closely, his expression unreadable with a look that Teige had seen more and more often in recent days. Eventually, he gave a curt nod and looked away. “I think we’re nearing the peak of this one. A couple more hours and we should be heading back down…by nightfall we’ll be in the forests again…” After a moment’s pause, he continued, his voice almost concerned as he spoke. “Do you want to ride?”

Glancing to the coal black stallion at his right, such a giant contrast to the icy white snow around them, Teige shook his head. Stallion looked as exhausted as he felt, but held himself proud regardless, breathing fog from his nostrils even as he shook his mane in cold frustration. “No…I think Stallion’s been through enough already…and he already has to carry our packs. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

Teige turned his head to eye his companion, the barest hint of a smile twitching onto his lips despite the cold as a flicker of mischief lit up his eyes. “Worried about me, Drake?” Brown eyes snapped to him, then quickly detoured away, the larger man giving an avid snort as he shook his head with a scowl. Still, he could have sworn he saw the man’s cheeks darken, though it might have just been the cold. When the redhead offered up no reply, Teige left it at that, but the smirk never quite left his lips, a sudden warmth that had nothing to do with the weather filling his chest along with a fluttery feeling that he didn’t really want to get rid of, or even think too deeply about.

As promised, they reached the summit not too much later, or at least the summit of their current climb, and began the downward trek shortly after. Though the mountaintop gave a stunning view, seeing all the mountains left ahead in the distance was not a particularly inspiring site for the already exhausted youngest human member of their team, but heading downhill again made up at least partially for the enthusiasm lost during his disheartening glimpse of their treks for the near-future. It wasn’t until sometime in the late afternoon, the sun still bright in the sky but dipping lower over the treetops, that anything out of the ordinary came up.

They had made it back into the areas with tree growth, the snow still abundant, but the green patches growing larger and more frequent the further down they went. With Stallion in a better mood after leaving the windy, snow-filled peak, Teige had gone back to riding, though Davinoff remained on the ground, leading the horse on, and with nothing much else to do, blue eyes had began to wander. Somehow, appreciating the beauty and variety of nature felt easier when he wasn’t trudging in freezing conditions through windy snowstorms. Still, when his eyes landed on something not suited to the natural landscape at all, his heart leap with hope.

“Drake! Drake, hold up a second…” The man on the ground paused, bringing the horse to a halt as he glanced up with a puzzled expression to the man above, then following the man’s gaze. “Is it…possible…that someone would be living up here?”

The redhead frowned, doubtful as he squinted through the reflective glimmer of white, and yet, off some odd number of yards to the left his eyes came to focus on something definitely not nature-made. “I don’t see how-“

“Let’s go see it! Maybe if someone’s over there they’ll let us stay and we can sleep in a bed and-“

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up…” The larger man grumbled mildly, fighting the urge to smile as he dipped his head to hide his expression and began leading the horse over.

Sure enough, they had come across a structure, a cabin more specifically, though, to Teige’s distress, it looked like it hadn’t held an occupant for several years, the snow piled high on the steps, around the door, and completely blanketing the roof. Still, unwilling to give up, he dismounted the horse for a closer look, kicking off the built up icy white residue on the front steps and making his way to the front door to first knock, then test the handle. To his surprise, he found it open, nearly jumping backwards when it actually gave way with a rather loud cracking noise and swung back to reveal an almost completely empty interior. As Teige took a rather startled first glance inspection of the place, Davinoff voiced his first objection.

“Teige, I’m not sure we should-“

“Oh, nonsense, have you looked at this place?” The smaller man’s hopes had quickly taken several leaps upon seeing the door open, his heart racing with a newfound excitement as he ventured a step inside, taking in the smell of dust, old pine sap, and fermented whiskey, along with several other types of alcohol as far as he could tell. “No one has touched this place in ages…look at all these cobwebs!” He pointed out, taking a less hesitant second step before admitting himself full entrance and stepping around inside the wide empty space of the first room.

Directly across from him, about twenty feet away sat an ashy grey fireplace, long ago abandoned, with a rusty grate and a single half-burned log still lying in wait. To both the left and right, also a good distance to each side, the cabin housed two seemingly identical bedrooms, each with one small hay-stuffed, twin size mattress atop a rickety bed frame with one window and a table. Neither room had much space in it, the majority of the three room bungalow was taken up by the front area containing the fireplace, and apparently everything else needed to run a household, shelves adorning the walls though most of them stood empty save for a few web-covered bottles, and a single log chair resting in the corner.

“This place is gorgeous!” The smaller man finally declared, spinning around the center of the room with his arms widespread, and though Davinoff had yet to step inside, he looked doubtful of Teige’s assessment.

“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea to-“

“Just come in here, will you? It’s a bit shabby, I’ll admit it, but it’s an enclosed structure…with a fireplace! And beds! Two of them, the perfect number. Don’t you see? It was made for us. Sent from the gods to-“

Davinoff almost jumped at the sound of a voice from outside in the woods, and his gaze snapped up to the sound to find a figure approaching, coming out of the trees at that very moment, though he looked like he hadn’t noticed them yet. “Gods damn it all, Teige, get out of there! Someone’s coming and-“

“Ahoy, there!” Drake resisted the urge to drop his face in his hands, attempting to smile instead though it came off as a sort of guilty grimace. “Found me bungalow, did ya? Nice place, if I do say so m’self.” The man laughed, and as he came closer, Drake became increasingly aware of his appearance. With white hair, wrinkled features and the oddest looking shabby attire he’d laid eyes on, the old man barely looked capable of living, let alone taking care of himself alone in the snowy mountain peaks in a home as run down as the one they’d come across. “And who might you fellers be?” He had just come close enough to see the rather startled form of Teige inside, but he showed no signs of a negative reaction to the man’s presence there.

“I…uh…Davinoff…Drake, Drake, you can call me Drake and…this is…Teige. We’re-“

“Traveling together, tough times, tough times. Say, you boys look like you could use some shelter…you think you could help an ol’ man out?”

“Uh…” Still trying to get over the fact that a) the man had appeared in the first place and b) he was still alive, Drake couldn’t seem to come up with many suitable answers, but Teige, who had taken rather hastily to removing himself from the cabin once it proved to have an owner, solved the problem for him, stepping out of the doorway and onto the steps with a rather guiltily embarrassed expression before speaking up.

“Sure, anything. Really, I’m sorry for barging in but I thought…well…I didn’t know anyone lived there and-“

“No worries, no worries. That’s actually what I was meanin’ to ask ya…I’ve really been a poor sport at keepin’ the place up, and now, I’m headed down the mountain for a time, and got no one ‘ere ta keep it rollin’. If you’re interested in some spare change…it’s not much, but-“

“Wait, let me get this straight… You…are going to pay us…to live here?”

“I’ll probly be gone for ‘bout a week…but yeah. If you fellas are willin’ to stay in for me…keep it breathin’, ya know…”

“Deal.” Drake answered with firm conviction, startling even Teige with his abrupt acceptance; the man gave a toothy grin, revealing a mouth that looked like someone had gone bowling in.

“Great. You’ll find yer money in the tin can atop the mantel over the fireplace. I’m takin’ Betsy down to town and leavin’ Lancelot here with you. Have a mighty fine time, now!” And then, as quick as he’d come, he disappeared, gone around the corner of the cabin then out of sight, leaving Davinoff and Teige alone once more. After a brief silence, the younger of the two eventually spoke up, expressing his puzzlement in both his tone and his question.

“A week? What happened to moving fast and-“

“As soon as he’s far enough gone, we take the money, see if ‘Lancelot’ is anything useful, and take a slight detour down the mountain…”

“Drake!” Teige looked sourly disappointed, though whether his frustration came from his companion’s dishonesty or the loss of beds for the night, Davinoff couldn’t tell.

“The man was obviously a fool, he’ll likely die soon anyway, and besides…we need the money, however little it is, and can’t afford to-“ Teige turned abruptly away, ignoring the rest of the man’s statement and storming off into the room, catching the other completely off-guard. “What? What?? Teige!” He climbed the steps hurriedly, pushing the door inside in order to follow after and frowning as he came upon the smaller man, curled up soundly on the straw mattress on the left side of the house. “Teige…”

“The least we could do is spend one night! How much would it hurt you, huh? To spend one night on a bed, under a roof, with a proper fire…” The whining shouldn’t have affected him, not in the least, not even the tiny, tiniest bit…but it did, and Drake, very much against his better judgment, felt his objections crumbling to dust at the sight. “I want a bed, Drake…just once…just one, itsy bitsy night? Pretty please?” The man rolled onto his back, hands above his head and expression outright needy in a way that made the older man hastily turn away, muffling a groan in his palm and shaking his head curtly.

“Fine. Deal. Just…get off the bed for now, alright? Go…get some firewood…”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Davinoff heard the man get up, but couldn’t have prepared if he’d had a lifetime to do so for what came next. Slender arms wrapped their way around his midsection, catching him in a tight hug from behind before the man spun around in front of him with a grin. “You will be loved in my heart forever…” He mumbled quickly, tone still carefree and eyes dancing as he lifted himself up on tiptoe, placing a butterfly-fleeting kiss on the taller man’s cheek before backing back up again. “Firewood it is.” The next moment, he disappeared out the door, running off into the snow and leaving the shocked-silent Davinoff alone in the empty cabin.


Review Replies

Falcon Bertille: Yay! Now I get to rave about all the stuff I loved!

I am a huge Drake fan, so it was really wonderful to get this glimpse inside him. I think you handled his emotions really well, making them powerful but also very repressed. Like storm waves battering at the sea walls which strain to contain them. And it was interesting to learn some hints about his history, and why he has a particular hatred of vampires. And, on a deeper level, why he has such a need to protect people.

The dream was absolutely amazing. You created such a beautiful sense of peace with the gull's cry echoing through the salty evening air and the waves washing over Drake's feet. Then you blew it all to pieces! The descriptions of the bats flying in "like a plague of locusts" and swirling around Drake "in live tornadoes" gave me chills down to my toes. And then this sentence totally sealed the deal for me: "...he discovered he couldn’t run as fast, his legs shorter and his hands barely the size of teacups..." I think that perfectly captured how unreal motion in dreams can be, how our bodies and physical abilities become completely distorted.

I already mentioned how much I love the fact that Drake named his horse "Stallion". Dear Drake. Not the creative, flamboyant type at all. Just solid and practical.

The moment when Drake decides that he can't kill Teige, no matter what Teige is, was very tender and poignant. Especially considering Drake's hatred of vampires. Somehow, when Teige was teasing Drake about leaving him alone to fend for himself, I imagined Teige talking with a Southern accent and dressed up like Scarlet O’Hara from "Gone with the Wind".

Oh yeah, and my favorite line in this chapter: "...dark lashes flitted open, like black butterfly wings lifting to reveal a sea of azure flowers." Gorgeous and evocative!

Love,
Falcon

I’m so glad and really…relieved…to know that you think I handled Drake’s emotions well. I often find it hard to get into the more ‘dominant’ figure’s mind not only because I find it slightly difficult to relate…but because I also tend to just ‘create’ dominants with minds that are very hard to weave into. o_O ^^; We’re only going to learn more about his history now as things go on…a lot more in the next chapter actually, and the main thing I pray for is that it’s not to cliché or overly done…I know the whole ‘dig into the character’s past’ thing is done oh so much. xP But I’ve put an effort into not making it too boring…^^;

^^ I was worried about the dream…so it makes me happy to know so many people took it well. Usually, whenever I write dreams, I just keep typing and typing and typing…the entire thing is just one long thought, and it doesn’t end till the dream is over. I don’t think anyone’s ever read any dreams done by me before…but that’s probably because I don’t like to put them in. I often feel guilty about them for some odd reason and feel like they’re not a ‘real’ part of the story…so I only put this in here cause I felt it held some important elements about Drake and…it wouldn’t go away.

You noticed Stallion! xD For the first few chapters or so, the horse didn’t have a name, and when the thought of naming him first occurred to me, I wondered if Drake would even bother to name his horse…for the very reasons you mentioned. Then, I decided that since Stallion was likely a pretty important character in Drake’s life…seeing as how he didn’t relate to people all that well, I figured that he must have some sort of title for him…so I capitalized an ‘s’ and grinned like a madman. xP I’m so lazy…I’m glad you liked it. xD

‘…the nerve of ya’…threat’nin’ ta leave poor lil’ ol’ me all alone in the world ta fend for m’self…? I’s jus’ plain cruel…’ xP Sorry. xD I’ve never actually read OR watched ‘Gone With the Wind’ (sad, no?), but as a (reluctant) Southerner…I find accents fascinating. xD Now that you mention it though…I can totally see Teige as a cowgirl…:gonk:

^^ Thankies again for your most lovely reviews and life saving (ok, not quite, but close) critique on my work!

MakaiKitty: Nice chapter. The dream sequence was really good, painted very clear pictures in my head. I look forward to your new Monday/Friday update schedual. Yay!

Hehehe…….^^; *guilty look* Very sorry bout the mess up with the Monday/Friday thing…I really will try to keep to it, but you’ve been with me for a while so you know stuff happens. xP Anyway…thanks! I’m glad people liked the dream…’specially since I was worried about it. ^^ Thanks for keeping up with the reviews!

Corenn: *hug Cyprien and Raspel's dolls* Nyaaaah *__* Nice chapter ! If you've guessed that I spoke a different language than english, what awful grammar's fault have I done ? >.< *hit herself* Qnyway... continue ! Or I'll bite ya >.

Yay! They both have dolls now…Raspel feels loved. ^.^ Anyway…eh…grammar? Well………they’ve been all over the place. But don’t worry! I always know exactly what you’re saying…and you never fail to get your point across in a way that makes me grin, so yeah. ^^ Don’t hit yourself…I don’t even know a second language (besides Spanish…but I don’t ‘know’ it…I’ve just dabbled briefly in it…couldn’t even come close to speaking it fluently…)…so you’re ahead of me already. ^^

*Meep!* Don’t bite me! It’s here, it’s here, I swear! :gonk: ^^ Thank you as always for the reviews! ^^

Charisa: I was Reckless Mist, but apparently ALL of my damn stories AND my profile were deleted off of here, I moved to Kirafics. Anyway, I love this story, and if your current beta decides to say "bye-bye" I'm free. I wonder what Teige will do when he finds out Drake knows what he is???

Sorry. My Internet died and I thought my review didn't post. So ya got three o' me this time! ;)

Aww…poor you. Sorry you got deleted. ^^; I don’t know what I’d do if I lost everything I had on here…probably break down into tears…but that’s just because I’m a lousy whiner like that. Thanks uber much for the offer, and though I pray that she doesn’t, I’ll definitely keep you in mind! ^^

That little discovery probably won’t happen for a few chapters, over the course of which Teige will just have to feel guiltier and guiltier as he discovers why Drake hates vampires, thinking the man will hate him when he finds out…even though he already knows! Ha! Ahem…sorry…I felt like a rant…but ANYway…thanks for the…three…reviews…^^ And no problem about the internet thing…I’ve had my internet die before at important times soooo often…it’s painful to count. :gonk: But yeah. ^^