3. Silent Night (1/1)

last chapter - i had hoped to do more but nothing else occurred to me. there's always next year! enjoy.

have a very merry christmas, everyone!

disclaimer: none of this is mine.

"silent night, holy night,all is calm, all is

ight..."

vlad noticed bertrand twitch from the corner of his eye as they sat studying in vlad's room again. wolfie was singing - it seemed he really liked christmas - outside the door, obviously playing with pup in the hallway. the chosen one sighed."go on, then. tell me the horrific vampire version of silent night." bertrand frowned, but he didn't respond. "bertrand?" his tutor shook his head."there's nothing to tell." vlad blinked at him, and he sighed. "there are a lot of memories attached to that song for me."

the night was indeed silent, for the first time bertrand could remember. it had been weeks, weeks of fighting and mud and just hoping the trench wouldn't cave in in such a way that he was left exposed to sunlight. he'd managed to falsify paperwork that allowed him to move up and down the line, meaning that he could be conveniently in a supply trench whenever there was a daylight attack. at night, though, he was a deadly weapon, sneaking off into no-man's land to finish off the mortally wounded and

ing back vital information. he wasn't even sure why he'd got involved in this blasted war, but he was still french; this was still his country and he would still fight for it.

tonight, though, there was no fighting. earlier, there had been a huge game of football; one of the wounded in the trench had been kind enough to explain the finer points of the rules while he was trapped by the daylight, and he'd joined in for the last few minutes after dark. then everyone had shaken hands, exchanged mementoes, and generally been altogether too chummy for mortal enemies. it was a mark of how blasted awful the war was that bertrand hadn't protested this fraternising with the enemy; had even joined in.

they were back in their own trenches now, bunking down for the night, wondering what the morning would

ing. the generals were bound to be furious, it could only be a matter of time before threats were made, and the future seemed uncertain. that was when the voices sounded softly across the battlefield.

"stille nacht, heil'ge nacht,alles schlft; einsam wacht..."

the soldiers stirred, and it wasn't long before english lyrics mingled with the german in the unnatural stillness of the night. bertrand decided, there and then, that he would leave before dawn; the war was not for him anymore. let the

eathers deal with it; the men he'd signed up alongside were dead and he wanted no further part in this apocalypse.

in the meantime, he joined his comrades in soft, reverent song.

back in the present, wolfie was still singing. vlad, who'd gone back to staring at his book, looked up with a start as another soft voice joined in.

"sleep in heavenly peace,sleep in heavenly peace."