Takes place before the events of Oblivion, and written in the sense that this could be taken as romantic or platonic, requested by MileSnape, I hope you like it!~
It was far past time for anyone to be awake, much less wondering through a forest towards a seemingly abandoned fort with a history of hauntings, yet that was exactly what Vicente Valtieri found himself to be doing. The Breton vampire had recieved a letter, not so much an order as an invitation, from his old apprentice and recent superior, Lucien Lachance. Vicente had never himself been to Fort Farragut, but included in Lucien's letter had been directions to approach using a secret passage in a hollowed tree to the west of the main door.
Spotting the trap door, Vicente climbed down into the the main living space of the fort, and was immediately greeted by the sight of his old prodigé, sitting at a table set for two, and donning civvies instead of the drowning black robes of the Black Hand. Vicente crossed over and took his seat across from the Imperial, eyeing a chalice that was pushed towards him in disdain.
Lucien chuckled, a broad grin spreading over his features. "I assure you it's blood, I know that wine is a bit too refined for your taste." Vicente scoffed, but a warm smile betrayed his amusement. "Refined? Next you would try to pass on that swill the Nord's call mead as top of the mark." Lucien laughed this time, a deep warm laugh that few had the pleasure to partake in. Vicente found himself thinking of how lucky he was to be the one to have caused it.
"Even I would not stoop so low. Say, brother, do you know the reason I called you here tonight?" Vicente shook his head as he took a sip, immediately recognizing the metallic taste of fresh Orcimer blood. He was briefly suprised and touched by what Lucien most likely had to go through to retrieve such a thing. "I am afraid not, brother, but before you ask, yes I would like to know." Lucien laughed jovially once again, they hadn't spoken in weeks, but they clicked together right from the start, falling back into routine and finishing the other's thoughts.
Lucien swished his cheap wine around, looking into the crimson liquid as his laugh died down and a small smile overtook its place. "Truthfully I wished for some company. Although I prefer my privacy, I find myself craving your company far too often nowadays." The old Breton smiled, reaching over the small table to clasp a hand over Lucien's shoulder.
"I find myself craving your company as well, my Speaker. Feel free to bother me at any time, you are aware I have no need for rest." Lucien frowned, "Come now, there is no reason for the formalities when we are alone." Vicente found himself wishing at that moment that the Speaker would call upon him more often as he replied. "Of course, Lucien, anything for you."