Chapter Warnings: Blood (and marrow), violence, character death
***
Palette rolled onto his side, unable to sleep. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't stop thinking about Goth and the wedding that would be happening tomorrow. He was meant to be the best man, but he wasn't sure if he could do it with a straight face.
It had taken him the better part of the week to realize the feelings swarming in his chest were jealousy. Once he began fitting the pieces together, he was able to admit he held romantic feelings for the small vampire. Of course, it was much too late to do anything now with the wedding only hours away.
By this time tomorrow, his crush would be married to someone else.
Huffing out loud, he threw his feet over the bed and redressed himself; he needed a walk to clear his skull if he hoped to get any sleep tonight. He had already done a poor job hiding his gloom from Goth if their constant questioning was any indication, so he didn't want to worry his companion further by losing sleep. Opening the door to his room, he immediately noticed the door across from his was ajar.
He could've sworn he closed it when he left.
Pushing the door the rest of the way open, Palette frowned at the absence of his master. Closing the door once more, he searched the house while asking every servant he came across if they had seen Goth.
Finally, one of the female servants was able to point him in the right direction, stating the vampire had sought out Daria to talk. The name sent a spike of jealousy through Palette, but he kept a straight face and thanked the servant.
Jogging down the main strip, a commotion up ahead drew his attention. A mortal man was raving, surrounded by a large crowd and a few guards as he got closer, "Lord Arnest has gone mad! He and his men attacked me and the young master in the meeting hall! The young master fought them off and allowed me to escape, but I fear he-"
The man's voice faded out as Palette took off toward the meeting hall in a panic, hoping desperately that Goth was okay. The last time a life-or-death situation occurred, the small vampire had barely made it. The memory of matted, bloody fur, the weakening pulse cradled in his palms, the overwhelming relief when his companion began moving again; those thoughts urged him to run faster. He had to make it this time too.
His entrance into the building was heralded by a domineering aura crashing into him and Daria screaming, "Please, no!"
Forcing his trembling legs to maintain his pace and follow the voice, Palette's soul guttered at the distressed screech just down the next hall. Turning the corner as a light wind swept past, his marrow boiled at the sight of the visiting lord pinning Goth into the wall. His battered companion let out a weak grunt as pressure was applied to his sternum, struggling for freedom to little effect as their skull lolled forward in exhaustion and their sockets scrunched in pain.
"No more games; this end now," the older vampire raised the edge of his sword to Goth's neck with a glare consumed in rage and spite.
A small, rational part of Palette was grateful that he was just out of their line of sight as he dashed toward them; leaping up and grappling his arms around Lord Arnest's neck in a chokehold and bellowing with all the ferocity he could summon, "Let him go now!"
He subconsciously registered Goth being dropped to the ground like a ragdoll, gasping for air as his enemy grabbed at him with their free hand, digging their sharp nails into his forearm. He grit his teeth against the pain, determined to hold on no matter what it took.
He knew what he was doing was incredibly stupid; he knew he stood no chance at all... but if he could at least buy Goth time, that would be enough.
"P... Palette...? No... no, you can't be here! Palette, get out of here! Run!" Goth finally seemed to register what was happening, struggling arduously to his feet.
The servant countered through clenched teeth, "Not without you... that was our promise!"
"Enough!" the elder snarled, ramming himself into the wall and successfully dislodging Palette's arms as the skeleton sunk back against the indented plaster. He wasn't even given a chance to get his bearings before pain tore through his chest followed by Goth screaming his name alongside Daria's wail of horror.
With a sharp inhale, he slid down the wall, pressing his hand against the red spot growing along the bottom edge of his vision. Pulling his hand back, the marrow-stained hand was all the proof he needed to know he messed up.
"Pests, each and every one of you! It was bad enough to have a mere child ruin my plans, but to think some lowly mortal monster would have the audacity hinder me as well?!" Lord Arnest spat, venom lacing each word and a wild look in his crimson eyes, "I will have you all pay-!"
Goth's scythe ripped through the man before they could finish; not giving them a chance to recover before slashing a second time at his neck with an enraged scream. The older vampire's body crumpled to the floor; blood pooling around his decapitated corpse as his daughter sobbed in the nearby doorway. The two servants with her stared at the scene in mute horror, letting Daria sink from their slack grip to the floor in misery.
Dispelling the scythe and staggering over to Palette, Goth tried to lift him up only to collapse when their strength failed them; forcing out a wet gasp from the skeleton as the movement jostled his damaged ribs.
"No... no, I'm sorry... Palette, you have to hold on... please hold on," Goth begged, unwinding his scarf and pressing it sloppily against the wound as he searched around feverishly, "Your bag... where's your bag? Where's the first aid kit?!"
"Did... n't.... bri-," Palette choked out before a coughing fit stole his voice.
"No... Daria, can you heal?!" the small vampire snapped his attention to the woman with a look of wild desperation.
"No...," she wept, her answer muffled by the hands covering her mouth.
"G... Goth...," Palette wheezed, his vision wavering as tears welled up in his sockets, "I... I don't want... t'go yet... I want t's... stay with you..."
"You're not going ...ere, do you h... ...e?" Goth order with tears forming in his sockets as well. Palette squinted his sockets, suddenly finding it hard to focus. The smaller's mouth was moving, but the sounds were sporadic, "Pal... ...ou ne... ... gi... ... ...sion... .... tu... ..."
"W... wha...? I... I c...... can't......," Palette stumbled over his words, barely registering the warm palm pressed against his cheek and Goth's blurry face yelling soundlessly at him before the last of his strength faded away.
***
Oops...
Word Count: 1,166