Chapter Text
Victor never wanted to be in charge. He never asked for it, he'd much rather be forgotten. His aunt would much rather that as well.
It was ten years after he dissapeared from the world. Seventeen and yearning for a chance to be seen by someone who didn't leave bruises, Victor spent his evenings sketching and writing in his journal. The only unfiltered place he could really express himself.
That is, other then his weekly meeting with the only two friends he had. (A year ago he learned to pick locks, so while theoretically he could leave whenever he wanted, he only ever left when he knew his aunt was away). She always had a meeting that ran for hours on Wednesday, so he learned that schedule, picked his room window, and slipped out and back in before she ever came back.
Today was a Wednesday, and Vera and Vargas didn't know about the murder trial that was going on for another day, but Victor did.
He was going to risk it anyway. After all, rules are only truly broken when you get caught.
He picked the lock to his window with practiced precision; there was peace in routine.
The sky was lit up a pretty pink that meant sunset was almost over, when darkness settled he would come back, not knowing when his aunt would be home that night.
He hopped through the window, ignoring his sketchbook that fell off his desk as he slipped out the other side.
He didn't know the servants would hear and come knocking.
His peace followed him all the way to the treehouse, found on the edge of the forest. He climbed the ladder, already hearing Vera gossiping inside.
"...insane? It said in the paper he doesn't even remember it happening." Her voice filtered in, judgemental as ever, through the opening of the treehouse, the boards slightly creaking as he climbed his way up.
"Hey guys." He said, hoping his voice didn't sound as tired as he felt.
"Hey Victor, I was almost worried you weren't coming. Did you hear about the murder trial? First murder since the gates were closed." Vera immediately turned to him, excited but muted in a way that implied she really wanted to know.
He aimed for a careful response.
"I think my aunt mentioned it." He said, sitting down.
He glanced at Vargas who was idly reading the small paper. Another way that vampires kept their waste small, rations were placed in paper that also held the most recent events going on.
Vargas must have already cashed in his ration for today.
Vera jumped on the comment he made.
"Well he claims he doesn't remember, and with a deeper look into it they think he went insane from lack of food. Now that he's in his right mind they're trying to figure out if they should punish him for the murder or not." Vera said, she had some craft or other in her hand, honestly all he could see was a hook and a ball of string.
"The real question is if they're going to change rations again." Vargas said, his eyes still scanning the paper. "I bet you money it's a bigger guy who was used to the old ration amount, and not used to sharing."
"We don't know how desperate their situation could have been." Victor piped up quietly.
Unfortunately for him, they weren't used to him interacting when they were having political conversations. Everyone's eyes went to him, it was just four but it felt suffocating.
He put his hands on his lap, avoiding eye contact.
"I'm just saying we don't know everything about him." He said even quieter.
Vera stopped her crafting.
Vargas glanced back at his paper.
Silence fell and despite being among friends that night, Victor flinched when Vera cleared her throat.
"Well I think we can make clear judgements with all the facts we know."
"Honestly, I think Victor is right." Vargas said finally. "What if the facts we don't know make all the difference?"
"I think if they made such a big difference, we'd know." Vera said.
When Vera decided something, she stuck to it, even if refuted with evidence or proof.
"Vera." Victor was quiet, but he wasn't stupid. "The press doesn't know everything."
Vera shot him a withering glare, and he flinched back before his mind caught up.
"I know that, Victor."
The tension in the treehouse was palpable.
Vargas folded his paper and set it down.
"Either way, it's up to the Eldress on what happens to him." Vargas said, trying to stop them from fighting.
Victor tensed at the mention of his aunt.
"The Eldress doesn't know what's good for anyone." Vera shot back.
"You shouldn't talk about her like that." Victor folded his knees to his chest. "I don't want you to lose rations or something."
"Ugh, nobody even cares. Everyone knows she's not fit to be in charge." Vera snapped back, angrily returning to her craft.
Victor tried not to take her tone personally, she was just upset they didn't agree with her.
"I think we can speak freely in here." Vargas said. "Do you agree with the decisions the Eldress has made, Victor?"
Victor froze, holding his breath.
This wasn't planned, if word got out then he'd be screwed, but Vargas can always tell when he lies.
"I think maybe she doesn't think outside of the box the way previous leaders did." He carefully chose.
"Yeah okay? He asked for your opinion not a synopsis." Vera sharply said, her hands moving far too jaggedly to be calm.
If they found out and spread around that he had a low view of his aunt he'd be done for.
Vargas was as observant as ever, his head leaning to the side as he watched Victor hesitate. Victor saw the sun steadily falling, the pink sky turning to shades of orange and green.
He had a sudden idea of having a much different approach. This could go well, or decidedly wrong.
"I mean, what happened to her nephew? Apparently he dissapeared around the same time as his parents dying. I looked in the records and there isn't anything about a funeral." Victor was careful to keep himself guarded, Vargas was watching carefully and he was far too observant to not figure it out if Victor didn't watch himself.
"Her nephew died with his parents, didn't he?" Vargas turned to Vera with a raised eyebrow.
"There isn't any record of him dying, and no record of him alive either." Vera stated. "I don't even think he has a ration card."
Every vampire has to work for four hours a day, in addition to doing anything the council demands.
Vera most commonly chose to spend that time distributing rations, since the workers get all the rations that fall on the ground, or are otherwise can't be given out.
Victor watched Vargas as the wheels turned in his head. He really hoped Vargas wouldn't come to a conclusion.
"You have any experience with the Eldress herself, Victor?" Vargas finally asked.
*And this is how Vargas finds out.* Victor thought glumly.
If he lied, Vargas would know, if he told the truth they would both assume he was the *nephew*.
He was so utterly done for.
"I mean other people can redeem ration cards that aren't theirs if they know the right information, right?" Victor asked, trying to avoid Vargas' question.
Vera's hook stopped for a moment.
"They'd have to know the date of birth and number of the person but I geuss it's possible." Her hook continued it's path across her yarn.
"If the Eldress knows his information, I mean she is his legal guardian right?" Vargas didn't turn to Vera to ask the question this time.
Victor swallowed, hoping the fear in his voice left with the taste of bile.
"In theory I geuss?" Victor tried his best to play it off. "If he's still alive, and if she is his only remaining relative."
"I mean, do you think you met the kid or something? I really don't see how this came up. We were talking about the Eldress not her shifty nephew." Vera finally said.
"I'm just saying if I was a generally good leader, I'd at least have my relatives affairs in order when–or I geuss if–they died." Victor said.
Too quickly, too defensively.
He felt Vargas looking at him, like he could see through his soul.
He prayed to any god that existed that Vargas wouldn't figure this out.
"I mean. I normally wouldn't defend the Eldress, but the kid was like seven when his parents died. It's entirely possible she just didn't want anyone in her business while she mourned a dead child." Vera suggested.
Vera had carefully returned to her craft, her hook swaying with her words like punctuation.
"She would've wanted him honored just to milk it for the drama." Victor spat back. "Don't even lie about that."
Victor would know. Any time anything happened there was some drama. Anytime he fought her she would go on and on about how "thankful" he should be that he's even alive.
"Somehow I feel like we're not just talking about someone vaguely." Vargas butted in.
*Shit* Victor thought. *Time to bail.*
Hopefully by the time the next week came around they would have forgotten, swept away in the business of their own lives.
"I have to go. The sun is already falling, I'm sure we all have places to be now." Victor stood up.
He tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking.
He had already revealed too much, and if he stayed in the treehouse any longer he might snap.
"No don't." Vargas was suddenly up as well, his hand on Victor's arm.
"Let go of me." He had flinched back instinctively and now they were standing face to face, one shaking arm in another’s firm hand.
"Sorry." Vargas let him go, but his dark eyes never left Victor's. "Just...don't go yet. I'm sure your aunt can wait."
Vera had frozen where she was crafting and was watching them both carefully.
They were still looking in each other's eyes...until Victor broke eye contact.
"I've been gone... longer than I had planned for."
The sun had dissapeared beneath Mount Rayburn.
"I really have to go." Victor explained.
"Yeah all good. Just...come back when you can? I'm in here most days. Avoiding some people." Vargas admitted.
"Yeah. Yeah I'll see what I can do." Victor relented.
He didn't wait for a reply.
He slipped out of the treehouse as though the shadows themselves owed him everything.
At least the shadows didn't ask questions.