The Night Owl (Vicente)

 A/N: Vampire dad Vicente is my favorite Vicente he deserved better so have some fluff

 

“Vicente?” A small voice squeaks out quietly as something pokes my cheek curiously “are you awake?” Opening my eyes I move the tiny hand away and look at two large eyes staring down at me “I am now, what do you need?” I ask sitting up. Lucien moves out of the way to allow me to get out of the coffin “Alright, I’m awake, what’s wrong?” Lucien hops from one foot to the other almost nervously “I can’t sleep!” the boy blurts out with a flail of the arms and stomp of his foot. Hmm, now what to do with a little night owl?

The rest of the sanctuary continues to sleep peacefully, as peacefully as a group of professional assassins can. Lucien and I however have found ourselves on the floor of the sort of common area, surrounded by various previously discarded attempts at falling asleep. “Where do you think that one goes?” Lucien looks at the piece in his hand before glancing down at the partly complete puzzle. “Here? No…here? Humph, also no. What about-? No, not there either.” The dark guardian that inhabits the sanctuary wanders by, and Lucien attempts to give it the puzzle piece, not understanding that it probably doesn’t know what a puzzle is. After he wanders off he continues his efforts, watching him is oddly fascinating, the mind of a child is capable of remarkable feats really, even after a somewhat rocky start and continued rather unusual upbringing. After some time he succeeds, before giving up the activity for the night, preferring to wander around the room wringing his hands slightly. Why he does that I have no clue, but it seems to be a way of regulating himself, or at least getting out excess energy. “Can we go for a walk?” He asks and after a few moments of thought I agree, a walk might finally put him to sleep.

With some help tying his shoes and buttoning his coat we go up and out into the fresh air of Cheydinhal. Nighttime walks have the advantage of being a time where I have no need of a hood. Taking my hand the two of us walk along the mostly empty streets of the little town, Lucien pointing out different shapes in the stars he learned from the sailors who looked after him before I found him, and tells me the stories behind them. Of course I know most of them already, but some he explains in ways I’ve never heard, perhaps different storytelling traditions as a result of different cultural origins. A short walk seems to be all he needs before requesting to go home, and so home we go, hand in hand, wandering the quiet streets back to the sanctuary.

Once back to the familiar labyrinth beneath the abandoned house shoes and coats are put away, and Lucien runs off for a moment before returning with a stuffed animal one of the other members had given him, a cup of milk and a book, holding it up for me- a silent request for a story. With a sigh I pick him up and sit in the old plush chair in the corner with him on one knee. For a not quite seven year old he’s rather small for his age, though when it comes to his training that’s an advantage- still, I worry about it sometimes. Between listening intently and observing the pictures, and the sleep inducing properties of milk he eventually falls asleep cuddling the already somewhat worn stuffed animal, the empty cup discarded on a side table. An interesting phenomena occurs when he gets tired, he seems to revert into Breton, babbling softly to himself, suggesting Common is his second language. As quietly as possible I put the book down, making note of where we left off, and carefully maneuver things until he’s placed back into his own bed. “Goodnight, Lucien. My little night owl.” I whisper fondly and move a stray lock of hair away from his eyes, though he’s too asleep to notice.

Checking the time I realize the sun is most likely on the rise soon, time passes quickly when attempting to get a child to sleep. Climbing back into my coffin with a sigh I lay back down, at least I’m a vampire- it’s stereotypical of me to sleep during the day, night owl or not, I think as I close the coffin. For me, it’s high time I had a rest.