Short Story; Mum's the Word

Credits; Tala,

"Vhat is it Svel?"
Tala looked away from the dark Taran skys at the mention of the Count's use of her other name, the one that only members of the pantheon, like themselves, knew.  The gray clouds and rumble of distant thunder suited both her and the Count.  It was the atmosphere expected by his visiting children, and the weather fit her tastes more often than not.  She turned around and leaned against the balcony.  It was, or had been at least, one of her Father's properties.  She'd purchased it from her great-grand niece, and then signed it over to the Count as a Umpty thousand and somethingth birthday present.  It wasn't as though he needed another castle, but she'd always liked the four poster in the master bedroom and it was nice for him to have somewhere local.  He didn't look it, but he was many years her elder, and unlike many immortals he'd managed to neither grow old nor remain young.  Instead, Vlad had achieved a sort of dignified middle age.  He looked old enough to be her, well that wasn't quite fair.  Truth be told neither of them had stayed young.  The Count had been aging slowly for thousands of years, so slow that few even noticed, but Tala always went to certain lengths when they were together, particularly to avoid people thinking he was her disturbingly physical father. 
"Nothing, I was just thinking."
"Svel, you never just think.  I know you to vell to fall for that."
"Did Yuri ever forgive me?"
Vlad stiffened.  Tala couldn't blame him.  She'd abandoned him with their child, had he done so to her she would have likely never spoken to him again.  It was a testament to his patience that she was even still allowed into the castle.  But she wasn't about to miss her son's funeral.  It was..it was the right thing to do.  She may not have been any sort of mother, but he'd been a fine son, the best anyone could hope for. 
"No.  I do not believe that he did."
"I..I wish I could go back."
"There are many things ve vish ve could undo.  But ve must live vith the things ve have done.  You should not have left.  But I should not have tried so hard to make you stay.  You vere to young then, you vere not ready to be a vife, much less a mother."
"I would have gotten used to it.  I would have learned to enjoy it."
Vlad began to massage her shoulders lightly.  He had spent years perfecting the technique, and Tala could feel her body relaxing as he worked out all of the stress and tension of the day. 
"No my little storm cloud, you would not have.  You still could not; some people simply aren't meant to be housevives.  You are one of those vimen."  He leaned over and kissed her neck.  "Vhich is good, because ve all need you in the field." 
"Why didn't I marry you when I had the chance?"
"Because you were afraid."
"I was afraid, so I ran off and killed demons.  Good thing I didn't marry you, that kind of crazy is contagious." 
"I should probably get tested then."  She could feel him smiling.  It was one of those wierd vampire things, they had this sort of aura.  Normally it was just a way of appearing more spooky and dangerous, but Vlad had a way of letting it show all of his feelings and emotions.  He was still grieving Yuri, but he'd buried the sadness with the body.  He'd lost a lot over the ages, Yuri was not his firstborn; although he was certainly his closest in body, mind, and spirit.  But being together again was certainly cheering them both up.  And right about now, face to face with her own failure, her weakness, she needed some cheering up. 

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"To my father I give my record collection, my dancing shoes, and an amulet bearing the curse of grooves; for the hippest guy I know."  Vlad blushed.  Tala was used to it as one of the other bearers of the rare honor of having made the count blush.  The memorial service had been short; only a few family had been invited, Yuri hadn't had many surviving friends.  The King of Tara had attended, but he hadn't been mentioned in the will so he'd already departed.  Petra, his mentor and school teacher, was the only person in the room who didn't share his blood, including the lawyer. 
"To my Granddaughter, Courtney, I grant my cloak.  Its enchanted so that anything you wear goes well with it, and it will keep you warm through even the darkest, coldest winter.  I also leave her Vestine's martial arts simulation programs, which she will doubtless find most enlightening." 
The young woman in question stood and curtsied gratefully before she wiped a tear from her eye.  Vampires weren't normally emotional, but Yuri had been a much beloved patriarch.
"For Professor Petra Zinksfeld, my mentor and favorite teacher, I offer only a little wisdom and my entire stockpile of enchanting ingredients.  'You once told me that I already had the greatest treasure a man could ever hope for; you were right, now go be some nice boy's treasure.  Its the one thing your mother never regretted doing."
"God I'll miss that little brat."
"And lastly, for a woman to whom I owe it all, I leave Tala, the storm mage, my forgiveness.  You may not have been there for me growing up, but don't think I didn't spot you watching over me.  I may never have liked what you did, but I learned to love you in spite of it Mom."
Vlad had a handkerchief out just in time.  Tala normally did a very good job controlling herself.  But Vlad knew that sometimes even the brightest, most terrifying little cloud had to rain a little.