~ Rite of Passage ~
Stefano picked at the collar tips of his burgundy silk shirt.” This thing is stiff; it pokes at my neck. And the color. I do not wear colors this dark.”
Gerik looked up from the chair where he sat, slouched with one leg over the arm of the chair.” Viktor says we dress for the prince leaving, not the prince beginning. And the color is fine. Yes, it is subdued, but this whole evening is to be subdued from what I can see.” He raked his eyes slowly over his lover’s form.” Besides, dressed in that ash grey jacket and trousers, you look … delicious.”
“Thank you, but that isn’t helping. I am too agitated to be romantic. Or lustful for that matter.”
Gerik stood and padded barefoot across the room.” Then let me worry about lust.” he said, then slipped slowly to his knees in front of his sire.” I am fairly certain I can get your mind off the ceremony for a minute or two.”
Stefano pushed on Gerik’s forehead, shoving him over backwards. As Gerik lay there, looking up at him, Stefano began to chuckle which gradually turned to laughter. The surprised look on Gerik’s face was replaced with an impish grin.
“See? It is working already.”
“Incorrigible. Does your sire know you act this way?”
Gerik crawled forward to kneel again in front of Stefano.” He usually encourages it, though of late I think he’s been a bit preoccupied.”
Stefano bent down to give Gerik a light kiss on his cheek. He put his index finger beneath his chylde’s chin and stood straight, coaxing Gerik to stand also. “More than just a ‘bit’, I’m afraid. As much as I would move the stars to be lost in our passions, I’m sure I would feel rushed afterwards which would turn my mood darker still.” He kissed Gerik’s lips briefly. “But I love you for wanting to be here for me. Even with that unnecessary remark about my stamina.”
Gerik arched a brow then began to flush. “Oh, that. Yes. Well. . . it was all part of my grand overall scheme to put you at ease.”
Stefano chuckled again. “Well, it worked. So I’ll let it slip for now. Remind me to disprove your statement when this … thing … is over.”
“Gladly, Stef. Though waiting through the ceremony will now be twice as difficult.”
“Good. You deserve it.” With that, Stefano gave another peck on the lips then sat in one of the overstuffed leather chairs and grabbed one of his boots.
“Here. Let me help.” Gerik moved in front of Stefano and helped him slip on his boots. The second boot was scarcely on when a knock sounded on their door.
“Lord Stefano? Lord Gerik? Overseer Viktor requested I tell you it is almost time and you should be downstairs already.”
Stefano recognized the young voice.” Perrin, Tell Viktor that we are coming.”
“Yes, Lord Stefano.”
“Gerik, get dressed. Your feet, straighten your shirt. I do not wish to leave you in our room.”
The younger kindred quickly finished dressing. He opened the door then paused to look back.” You really shouldn’t have lied to Perrin.”
“In what way did I lie?”
Gerik winked. “You told him we were coming. And you know that won’t happen until after the ceremony. Although I did try.”
Stefano playfully pushed Gerik through the door. “Out. Before I forget my manners and take you here.”
“In truth?” Gerik spun around and began walking backwards. “I’m ready, sire.”
Stefano shook his head and sighed. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Gerik’s forearm just as his chylde’s foot slipped, unprepared for the top stair.” Now turn around and mind your behavior. Try to remember why we are going through this.”
“Yes, Sire.” Gerik carefully turned to descend the stairs with Stefano following him.
Once downstairs, Gerik walked to the bar while Stefano moved off to the right of the fireplace. The representatives were standing in an arc again, each holding a glass of bloodwyne, though no one was drinking. Vargon stood to the left of the fireplace while Odessa sat in one of the chairs back behind the men who stood before her husband.
Vargon looked at Stefano and smiled. Stefano bowed his head in return. After waiting a few moments longer, Vargon moved to stand in front of the fireplace and looked at the men before him. The room became morgue-silent, an analogy Stefano shoved to the back of his mind to keep from laughing. From his first word, Vargon spoke in the tone of a prince.
“We gather this eve at the birth of a new age that rides the wake of the one before. You have all heard it said, time and again, ‘A Prince is for life.’ which, if the Fates allow, means forever.” A few men chuckled softly.
“There comes a time when every prince should sit back and examine their reign. ‘Is my territory expanding or contracting?’ ‘Do my representatives serve me gladly with honor?’ and most importantly, ‘Do I wish to maintain my realm?’ I say most importantly because a prince who does not hold reign with all their strength and soul, is a prince who must step down. This is not an option to be ignored. It is part of tradition going back to our First Father, indeed, all the way to Lord Cain.” Vargon paused to look around the room and ensure he had everyone’s attention.
“It has been one of my greatest joys to walk this plane as kindred. Greater still to serve you as prince. Yet, as I adhere to the laws of tradition, I find my longing to be prince wanes. It is not from a representative; it is not from land, camp, or kumpania. This has been true since I married Odessa, she holds my heart and my soul now.” He paused to look at his wife, then looked back to the room.
“At the time I wed, my first chylde was not ready to take the responsibility before him now. Since that time, with my instruction, he has become a strong, mature kindred. I no longer have qualms with his taking my place. But, before I proceed, as is also traditional law, I ask if anyone has any cause to doubt Stefano’s ability, or to keep him from being Prince of my territory.”
Vargon stopped and looked around the room for anyone against the ceremony continuing. Stefano kept his gaze on his sire. After several awkward, uncomfortable minutes, Vargon raised his glass. “We proceed in unity, bound together by territory, by region, by love.” He took a sip of his wyne, all the representatives followed suit. Vargon’s eyes shone as he continued.
“Stefano, chylde of blood and friend of spirit, will you accept the confidence held by those within my territory?”
For the first time since the ceremony began, Stefano shifted his weight slightly on his feet as he replied. “I am, Lord Prince, protector of all who live under your shadow.”
“Then come forward, my chylde, and take the greatest gift, other than life itself, one can receive.”
Stefano stepped forward and moved in front of Vargon. Standing this close he could now feel the power, authority, and acceptance radiating from his sire. He swallowed hard, hoping he remembered the lines Vargon had taught him. “I accept what is given, my Prince, and ask that you remove any impurities from me so I might reign as you have reigned, in honor and respect for your kindred.” He slowly moved to his knees, his eyes still locked on Vargon.
Vargon’s mouth twitched as if he fought a smile. “I take all and return all to you then, Prince of Shadow, Lord of Kindred, Heir of Vargon, your prince.” Vargon knelt on one knee in front Stefano, grasped both shoulders, and leaned forward. As his chylde tilted his head to the side Vargon injected his fangs, suddenly and without restraint.
Stefano hissed in pain but remained steady. He fought the urge to collapse as Vargon removed his teeth and began to drink. Just before he gave in and blacked out, Vargon stopped drinking, licked the wound, then stood again.
“Rise, Prince of Shadow. Rise to take your place, to govern in fairness and respect of all, maintaining honor firstmost.”
Stefano stood slowly, dizzy but managed to grasp his father’s shoulders. “I take from you the mantle of responsibility and claim you a free and independent kindred.” He almost fell forwa
rd but kept himself upright as he punctured the other’s neck and began to drink heavily. His mind slowly came back in focus.
Do not drink all. Do not kill. Do not take life. Stop. Stefano shuddered and stopped. He licked the wound to close it then searched Vargon’s eyes for any sign he needed to sit. Seeing only strength and determination echoing back at him, he turned to face the room.
“My kindred. Family in shadow. I accept your approval as Prince. I take on all that once belonged to Vargon. I shall protect all who live in the shade of my hand. I promise to kill any who seek to harm even one of my family. I so declare and so do reign.” As he made the final declaration, his voice deepened, took on an authority all had so recently heard from Vargon.
Before him eight kindred, representing dozens of souls, broke into a yell in unison “Long reign Lord and Master Stefano. Prince of our families.” As one they raised their glasses and took the remaining wyne in one swallow. Stefano remained as he was until all had come to greet their new prince, then finally turned to Vargon, who spoke first.
“Chylde of my heart, my son. I am proud of you this night. You have become more and exceeded all a sire could wish.”
Stefano stepped forward and embraced his sire and whispered. “I love you, Vargon. I owe all to you. I am sorry it took so long, but you will always hold a piece of my heart.”
Vargon broke the embrace and moved back to look Stefano in the eyes.
“That is all I have ever needed to hear.”