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The General's Crusnik	By : vbruce Category: +S to Z > Trinity Blood Views: 4086 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Trinity Blood. All rights, proceeds and monies go to the original creator. Making no cash from writing this. It's just for fun.

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Abel glanced around the room as he followed Catarina up to her chair near His Holiness' throne. When word had been spread that an emissary from Over the Ocean, from Lost Canada, had arrived a full session was instantly called and the Cardinals fetched with their seconds. Francesco had already arrived and was scowling at everyone but there was nothing new there. Alessandro was clutching his Crook as if it were a lifeline and the silver haired man hoped Francesco wouldn't bellow quite so loud today. As Catarina sat down, Abel had a few moments to wonder who had been sent and if they knew the General before the herald appeared at the door to announce the emissary.

The herald stepped forward, looking more nervous than anyone had ever seen him.

"May I present to this good counsel, the high chancellor and advisor to King Michelangelo of Canada, General Lucien LaCroix.”

Abel blinked, sure his ears were deceiving him before he quickly bent to murmur in Catarina's ear. "Treat him with respect and authority, but don't be afraid of him."

Catarina nodded, vaguely wondering who the man was and exactly how Abel seemed to know him so well.

"Trust me. He was a Roman General when Vesuvius buried Pompeii." That was the only warning he could give before the doors were swinging open, and he straightened behind her chair, his eyes already looking for his friend.

Lucien strode into the room, barely acknowledging the herald. His eyes scanning the room for weapons, exits, possible enemies and allies when his gaze landed on a most unexpected sight.

Francesco was on his feet in an instant and Abel dreaded to see the outcome here. "What is this *vampire* doing in His Holiness' presence?" he roared, getting a flinch from Alessandro.

Lucien raised one eyebrow only slightly before baring a fang in a smile. "This Vampire is ignoring the comments of the willingly imbecilic."

Francesco's face turned even more red and Abel buried his face in his hand with a small groan. "Catarina, please stop him," Abe whispered. "Before LaCroix truly gets annoyed."

"Please, General, my brother has little tolerance for the Methuselah. His mind often outpaces his manners in that regard," Catarina said, glaring at Francesco.

LaCroix tilted his head slightly and nodded to her. "I comprehend that, dear lady. However, he is mistaken in the presumption that I am a Methuselah. I am a Vampire of the old blood, not at weakened child of the new."

"Cardinal diMedici? Perhaps we should hear what General LaCroix has to say first?" Alessandro offered, his voice soft and hesitant, and Abel breathed a sigh of relief as Francesco bowed with an "Of course, Your Holiness."

“Medici," Lucien said, smiling more widely this time. "I knew your ancestors." He turned and addressed himself to the child seated on the throne that should have belonged to a man much older. "Your Holiness, my king has simply requested that contact be initiated between our country and the Vatican. Considering he is from this country originally, he is fond of it."

Alessandro nodded, straightening a bit. "We are always hoping to find more allies to make contact with. What does His Highness wish aside from contact between us?"

"His wish is, if the contact be initially friendly, to visit. As I have said, he is from this country. Born in Florence but spent much time in Roma."

"We are always happy to have a former resident return to visit," Alessandro began only to shrink back as Francesco whirled on him, face as red as his robes.

"Your Holiness, why should such a *creature* sully Your Holy City with his presence?" bellowed Francesco before sneering at LaCroix. "No matter who he was originally, he is a spawn of the Devil!"

“Interesting. Whom do you think created the chapel ceiling? Or the marbles scattered throughout the Vatican?”

"What do you mean by that, *vampire*?" He spat the word as if it were a curse as he glared at LaCroix, trying to burn him where he stood.

"I would have thought it obvious even to a simple mind such as yours."

"A great artist carved the marble before he died," Francesco said, speaking as if talking to a simple child. "The man who created these works of art is dust in his grave."

"Oh, I'll be certain to inform him of that. It will greatly amuse him to know he's dead."

Reaching up, Abel pulled off the glasses he wore and massaged the bridge of his nose. He sincerely hoped that the General didn't traumatize Alessandro too much.

Lucien practically roared with laughter. "How entertaining. I've not been so amused since seeing Christians fed to lions. We didn't put enough out of their misery," he said. He sketched a short bow to Alessandro. "I'll await your answer." With that, turned on his heel and was striding out the doors.

Abel glanced at Catarina, silently asking permission to chase after him. He really wanted to talk to the General but he couldn't leave right then without it seeming strange.

Catarina nodded her permission and Abel slipped out of the room as soon as all the attention was focused on Francesco’s rant about how His Highness Michelangelo of Canada was not the same as the Great Artist. He only hoped that Francesco’s pig headedness didn’t get the Vatican in trouble with LaCroix or Michelangelo. The last thing the Vatican needed was a war with the True Vampires.

The Vatican wouldn’t last against that sort of force.

He was able to easily follow the General, asking for him either by name or description, and quickly found his way up to the luxurious suite that LaCroix was renting for the time being. Taking a breath, he knocked on the door and waited.

Lucien opened the door and smiled at the young man in front of him. Not young by anyone else's standards aside from his but that hardly mattered.

"Get in here, boy."

He smiled and ducked his head slightly as he entered the room. "I came as soon as I could get away," he confessed with a small shrug. "I think Francesco is *still* ranting about having a True Vampire in the Vatican."

Lucien flicked Abel's collar on his priest's garb. "That would explain this travesty in fashion. Would you care to tell me exactly HOW you became a Vatican priest?" He waved Abel over to the side table before sitting down himself.

"It's a long story, but to summarize, I rescued a young Catarina Sforza from Methuselah assassins, and she managed to trick a promise out of me to help her achieve her dream," he explained, walking over and settling into the chair. "That dream was peace between the human kingdoms and the Empire."

"I believe that has been accomplished quite successfully. The question now is, why did you remain?"

He sighed. "I don't know where to go from here."

"Perhaps I can assist you in figuring that out."

"That would be appreciated." He chuckled and looked at him. "I was actually thinking about you and your family earlier today."

“Should I be flattered or annoyed?"

"I was wondering what you were up to and what your current name was." He smiled. "And since I was considering getting in touch with you again, flattered."

Lucien put one hand over his heart and bowed slightly to his guest. "Honored. Truly."

That got a soft laugh from Abel. "I miss the conversations we use to have and the company of you and your children."

Lucien chuckled. "You mean the sniping and screaming matches between Nicholas and myself when he's being an obnoxious brat."

"Perhaps, but you do have a firm hand." A faint blush stained his cheeks as he remembered just how firm a hand.

"Obviously not firm enough or the Natalie incident wouldn't have happened."

"You can't help who you love." His words were directed a bit more at himself than towards the ancient vampire.

Lucien sighed. "You didn't LOVE her, you know, Abel. You were genetically engineered as breeding pairs. You and Lilith then Cain and Seth. It was simply a matter of programming a want of her into you."

He looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. "Logically I know, but it still aches. Like a limb that's suppose to be there."

He reached out and patted Abel on the shoulder. "I understand all too well, believe me. However, you'll not find what's real until you let her go."

He looked up at him. "She's buried on the grounds here, in a mausoleum, but I haven't been down to see her since she was put there."

"But you know she's close to you. That keeps the wounds open and bleeding, Abel."

He sighed. "It's not like we were taught how to deal with basic emotions like grief," he pointed out.

"No one is. When I was a boy it was the men who were overly emotional while the women were stoic. Divia was the perfect example of that, as was her mother. Now it's completely the opposite. Grief is something everyone deals with differently so teaching one person's way to deal with it would be pointless."

"By that logic, I am dealing with her death the only way I know how."

“Touché, my boy."

He let a small smile touch his lips as he looked at the General. "How hard did you have to beg to be sent?"

"You know I beg no one. His Highness SUGGESTED I come. I’m certain you understand his "suggestions" quite well."

He grinned. "I'm surprised he's not waiting on your ship right now for the signal that he can enter."

"There's nothing that says he isn't."

"Except you are *here* instead of *there*." he tilted his head. "Of course, you could be a diversion away from him."

Lucien rocked the lovely cut crystal glass he was holding against his chin. "Perhaps," he said cryptically.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I do apologize for the way you were treated earlier. Alessandro is all of fifteen, and Francesco wishes it was himself that was the Pope instead of his half brother. And Catarina, being their half sister, keeps trying to shield Alessandro from Francesco's bellowing."

He snorted and waved away the apology. "I've been treated far worse by far better people. It isn't your place to apologize for the idiocy of others."

"As Catarina's unofficial second, I feel I must at times."

"So, how is she," he asked, smiling.

"Feisty when she's fighting for what she believes in, stubborn as Nicolas, and yet afraid of going as far as Francesco has for what she believes is right."

"I think you're being deliberately obtuse, dear boy."

He huffed. "If you are referring to between the sheets, I am unable to answer that through ignorance of the facts."

"That is a sorry state of lacking affairs. She's lovely."

"Yes she is, but in many ways, I'm just another of her attack dogs."

"Again, you're being deliberately obtuse."

He rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to say? That I've never screwed her brains out? I'd be more likely to break her with a careless touch. She’s human."

"She strikes me as the sort who'd simply find a nice pair of manacles from the dungeon and secure you to a solid object then have her way with you," he said, sounding amused. He'd forgotten how much fun their conversations on this subject were.

He shook his head. "She wants flowers and romance." A wry smile twisted his lips. "She confessed that much to me when she was younger."

"That may be. Young women have their heads full of such things. Older women or men for that matter have a much different take on those matters.”

"If you're interested in seeing for yourself, I can tell you that she's still pure."

“I would Definitely break her and since you're fond of her, I'll pass. Though there are ways of garnering satisfaction while remaining pure.”

He offered a small chuckle. "I'll just leave her for the Spaniard in the group then." He blushed. "Yes. I know."

"And what do you know, my boy?"

"That sometimes the only one who can satisfy you for even a little bit is yourself."

"That is true. Though it wasn't what I was speaking of."

He looked at him. "Then what were you speaking of?"

A slow smile spread across the older man's face. "I'll be happy to show you some time. Once you've healed."

A blush raced across his face again. "Would that be anything like how you showed Cain how to handle a whip?"

He shrugged. "He wanted to learn how to use one safely and properly. It only stood to reason I would be the one to teach him. But no. I would have other lessons for you.”

"I think… I would like that. Very much so."

"Excellent. We shall have to keep that for another time though. It's almost dawn and I, unlike you, can no longer walk in sunlight."

He nodded. "Once Catarina can get around Francesco, she will have an answer for you, but I don't see her having a problem letting His Highness enter the city." He smiled and rose to his feet. "Have a pleasant rest."

"Abel."

He paused, looking at him.

"Be very careful in that nest of vipers. Your facade is wearing thin. Others are bound to start noticing soon as well."

He nodded, a bittersweet smile on his face. "One reason I spend most of my time in the Market and cafes unless I'm on a mission."

Lucien nodded and followed him to the door. "Again, be wary, my boy. I'll see you this evening."

He nodded and reached out to rest his fingertips on the vampire's cheek. "I will. I promise." He let his hand drop. "Until sunset."

"Sunset."

He turned and reluctantly left the room, heading back to hide in his room at the Vatican.

Lucien watched from his window until Abel hurried out of sight. He pulled the heavy drapes closed and went to prepare himself for sleep. Thinking that the gloaming could not come soon enough.
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The General's Crusnik