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Grendel had been sleeping.

He almost couldn't remember the last time he had actually slept, in one of those deep slumbers that the Gods sometimes found themselves, similar to a vampire's torpor. His little escapade in the Holy Temple had drained him, had taken something from him, and had left him feeling completely burnt out. The sleep wasn't a peaceful one, however. It was filled with whispers, of promises and enticements. The words echoed, over and over, sometimes soft and other times as an insistent chant.

He was tired. He just wanted to rest.

The Spear demanded action.

Eventually, he roused himself, not knowing how long it had actually been. Eyes opened and pupils dilated, staring up at a dark and empty ceiling. His head ached. The dregs of sleep lingered and threatened to pull him back under, though the voices in his head pushed for him to stay awake. Growling lightly to himself, he forced himself up and buried his head in his hands, digging the heels of each into his eyes, pushing away the slumber.

He wondered at how long it had actually been, how much time had been *wasted*. Time always flowed a bit differently for Gods. It could have been hours. It could have been months. There was something that bothered him about not knowing, something that niggled at the back of his head. A promise that was never spoken, but possibly made in secret to himself. A determination, to get back to someone who might be waiting for him.

He rose to his feet. His muscles and ligaments creaked and groaned. He stretched, rolling his neck and shoulders, curling and flexing his fingers and toes. It was only then that he remembered the glove in his hand, and he reached over to peel it back and look at what remained beneath.

Still not healed. It looked exactly the same as before.

He still had a lot to do. He hadn't even begun to search for the Crusnik. He had an idea of where to start, but only that, an idea. There was an urgency there, and he knew that, but there were words, a warning, that he had also been given, one that had made him second guess his course, one that made him hesitate.

His feelings for Ravnos had not faded. He wondered if the Disciple still felt anything for him at all. No, he didn't just wonder. He needed to know. He needed to examine what he could still lose before deciding if he could go on.

Perhaps he would even let Ravnos be a part of that decision.

Closing his eyes, he searched, just as he had done so many times before. The finding came swiftly like there was some invisible connection there that could be grabbed ahold of all too easily now, and that was somehow surprising and yet not at all. He could see him, and he smiled to himself, feeling just a bit lighter now like he had less of a burden to carry on his own.

Dracian.

A quiet whisper in the Disciple's ear, just a split second before he travelled directly to him, stepping out of the pure blackness of shadows. The God's eyes found him, and for a moment, they seemed to shine brighter.

It was all he could do to just stand still and wait for Ravnos to come to him. While he was very, very happy to see the Disciple once more, there was still that small bit of doubt that lingered, the one that told him that those few days together had been a dalliance, a flirtatious fling, and nothing more. Now, as he watched the vampire move toward him slowly, too slowly, that speck of doubt grew, until finally he felt Ravnos's hands against his face, and leaned into them, delighting in the feel of them, his concerns melting away, if only for a brief moment.

The whispers could only be staved off for so long. Incessant. Confusing. Though his eyes were bright, there was something straining at the edges of them, like a faint glimmer of discomfort or pain.

He reached up to place his hands on Ravnos's shoulders, pulling him close so he could lean his forehead against the others, his hands moving to lock around the back of his neck, the direct contact soothing.

"How could I stay away?" His lips pulled up in a small smile, yet his voice was gruff with a certain tiredness.

I have missed you

For a moment he just enjoyed the embrace, a tension that had been eating away inside of him slowly easing away, bit by bit. Those arms around him that he had ached to feel again since their last parting. The sound of his voice. His smile. His damn pretentiousness (except he couldn't even call it that because the absence actually had been excruciating). He missed all of it and was content for now to just drink it all in.

Though it was possible Ravnos had other plans.

Before he could ask if the vampire had been well, he found lips pressed against his, hard enough that he could feel the fangs just on the other side. He returned the kiss, eagerly enough, but the whispers never ceased, and they were an unwelcome distraction.

"Wait." He said, pulling away enough to look Ravnos in the eyes. "We should talk."

The problem with talking was that Grendel wasn't very good at it. He tried not to say more than needed to be said at any given time. He wasn't good at expressing himself vocally and preferred to use actions. So this...this was difficult for him. It seemed like there was a lot to say, and he didn't even know where to start.

He studied Ravnos's face, the way his brow furrowed, and he considered just kissing him again instead. That seemed far more simple and a lot more fun.

Instead, he loosed his grip from around the Disciples neck, hands running down his shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze, and another smile. He really was very happy to see him.

"Perhaps we could sit down first, and share a drink." It had been days, and though Grendel didn't need to feed like the vampires, he still enjoyed it. Letting go of Ravnos's shoulders, he summoned a glass for each of them, one filled with something adequate for the Disciple's tastes, and something much stronger for the God, who would barely feel its effects.

The voices, for a moment, increased in intensity. The Spear wanted to be summoned, but Grendel was refusing.

For the first time, Grendel really looked around at where they were. Up until that moment, he was so focused on Ravnos that he hadn't even noticed their surroundings. The room was nice. Lavish, even. It seemed far more stylish and refined than he would have expected from the Disciple. He followed him to the table with the highback chairs and eased himself into one, relaxing and closing his eyes, willing the whispers to stop so that he could just...enjoy Ravnos's company in peace.

When he opened his eyes, he lifted his glass to his lips and took a long drink, watching the vampire over the rim. Putting his glass down on the table, he sighed and tapped a gloved finger on to hardwood tabletop while he contemplated where to begin.

"I've got the Spear." He started, "It is here with me now, though I will not summon it, no matter how much it wants me to. It talks to me, it doesn't stop talking to me. It makes promises..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, as if answering a question only he could hear, and raised his glass from the table for another long drink.

If only Ravnos knew how difficult it had been, how there was more than one moment where he was sure he would fail, even if he had resolved himself to fight as hard as he could. All he'd cared about was achieving his goal, and it could have easily killed him.

Still, it was nice to hear that Ravnos had believed in him.

"I did not mean it like you are, just that it wants me to, and I refuse." He explained with a small frown. He finished off his drink, and then swirled his glass until it was quite full again.

"The Holykat Angelique told me that it can change destinies. All destinies. I....I'm still not even sure why he let me have it." He paused, then, realizing that he was getting to the crux of the matter.

"I still have not used it. Cernunnos said that it comes with a price and that I could lose that which I care for most in this world." He looked away, then, clutching back at his cup and setting his jaw.

"I worry about what that could mean for us. For you."

"I don't know what it wants." He snapped, becoming too easily irritated, the whispers crawling around his brain setting his teeth on edge. "I just know what it offers. The death of my Father, an endless night, the whole of Faetasia mine to do with as I please. Anything that it thinks that I would want, it offers."

"It does seem odd now, doesn't it? Maybe a little too convenient." Grendel grumbled, but his tone had at least shifted slightly as he tried to get his agitation under control.

He let Ravnos talk now, and he drank from his glass again as he listened, hoping that perhaps he might be able to dull his senses just a little bit, just for some respite. The Disciple might have felt dubious about the Spear, but Grendel had felt its power, had fought to hold it, and the evidence of that was etched deep in his hand.

"So, you are not concerned?" He said when it appeared the vampire was finished.